FIC: The Lucky Two (Helga Hufflepuff/Rowena Ravenclaw)
Title: The Lucky Two
Author: lar_laughs
Characters: Rowena Ravenclaw/Helga Hufflepuff (with a command performance by Salazar Slytherin and Godric Gryffindor)
Prompt Number: #126
Word Count: ~8900
Rating: R
Warnings: Domestic violence, angst, character death
Summary: Rowena's life, summed up in three parts.
Disclaimer: I do not own the Founders or any other character from the Harry Potter books. Those are owned by JK Rowling and Scholastic Books.
Author's Note: The title and lyrics at the top of each part are from The Lucky Two by Missy Higgins. I hope this isn't too angsty for prompter but I couldn't resist the idea that took over my brain when I heard this song on my iPod while washing the dishes. Much thanks and love to my beta, Aster. I took liberties with Rowena's life but did it with good intent.
The Lucky Two
Part 1: Rowena, a girl
I remember someone old once said to me:
That lies will lock you up with truth the only key.
But I was comfortable and warm inside my shell,
And couldn't see this place would soon become my hell.
The first time Rowena saw the ginger-haired witch, she wanted to weep. It was her engagement day, the day her parents had been eagerly awaiting since she had reached her majority seven years ago. She'd given in to their demands only a few weeks ago, agreeing to marry Nathaniel Heldincourt because she was tired of arguing. It would be nice to have some peace outside of the library for once.
And now she was paying for her impatience as she held out her hand to the younger woman with a smudge of flour on her cheek. This was where she should have said something like, "I've heard your meringue rivals that of even Queen Mab" or "Roast goose is your specialty? It's my favorite" but her tongue was suddenly too big for her mouth and her lungs weren't moving air in and out of her body properly.
The other girl seemed to have no difficulty as she dipped into a low curtsy. "You do me a great honor to select me, of all the others you could have chosen, to cook your wedding feast."
Perhaps it was all in her imagination that there had been spark of recognition of kindred spirits in the girl's eyes when they had first alighted on her own. No, there it was again. The girl turned her head slightly so that, as she lifted it back up, she was hidden from the other occupants of the room. Her smile was from the devil himself as it made Rowena's insides turn over.
What were these feelings? She'd never felt this for anyone before. If no one else had been in the room, she might have stepped forward so that she was close enough to Helga to feel the warmth of her skin. She would have lifted a hand to run it through the tiny curls at the nap of her neck that had escaped from her combs. If those advances weren't spurned, she would have leaned in for a kiss. Just one. No use glutting on this girl on the first acquaintance, after all. She was like a dessert that needed to be savoured.
Color painted Rowena's cheeks as she realized what exactly she had been thinking of doing. Heaven help her, she wanted to bed this girl. Not that it was a new feeling for her. When her mother had threatened to send her a nunnery, she'd delighted in that idea too much for her mother's taste and that had quickly stopped being a punishment anyone used. Naked male statues left her cold as ice but even a heavily draped female form left her staring long after everyone else walked by.
This was one of the reasons for the push toward Lord Heldincourt. He was richer than the Ravenclaws but, most importantly, didn't spend much time at his main home in favor for the fleet of hunting lodges wherever there was plentiful game and, if the stories were to be believed, willing wenches at the ready. He didn't mind a woman as well-read as Rowena and only smiled when she flung her most sarcastic barbs at him. His own family was long dead, the men having succumbed to the lust for glory on the battlefield and the women bearing the truth that musty old castles were torture on delicate lungs.
"I would have you show me one of your dishes," Rowena declared as a shiver of desire left her knees knocking together. She had to have time alone with this girl and she knew just how to achieve that. "No, two of them at the very least. I would hate for everyone at my marriage feast to go home hungry and tell the countryside that Heldincourt didn't feed them properly."
"Very good idea. I'll leave you to your discussions. Come, Ravenclaw." Heldincourt clapped her father on the shoulder with a meaty paw, laughing too loudly and too stridently for anyone of good stature. He was no better than the dogs he always had lying at his feet. "Show me that copse of trees you were describing last time. I think that would be just the place to set up a deer blind." And with that, her fiance and her father were out of the way.
"Mother, I'll leave you to the arrangements." Rowena stood up, sweeping her dress away from Helga as if she was afraid the girl would contaminate it with her flour-dusted hands. "You know what Heldincourt likes. Ten dishes at the very least."
And just as she predicated, her mother began to fall all over herself to get out of the room, crying that it was no longer her duty to keep the countryside fed at her daughter's wedding. A daughter, she pointed out for the third time that day, that had reached her majority enough years ago to make her more than ready to run her own household without any help. Always before she had listened to the familiar rant, chiming in with her own fierce argument as to what she thought of her parents trying to run her life as if it was their own to command, but today she watched her mother leave with pursed lips and a song in her heart.
Her words to Helga were quiet, meant only for the two of them even though they were all but alone in this room. "Take me to the kitchens and show me your skills."
The grin she received back made her heart sing. It might have been her engagement day but she would always look back on it as the day she discovered her true heart.
***
The day before her wedding started out like any other day, except for the wafting scent of bread and cinnamon that woke her. That could only mean one thing. She rolled to her side as the door to her room widened and a cart began to roll through the opening. When Helga's smiling face came into view, Rowena's heart skipped a beat.
"What have you brought me?" she asked, staying where she was even though she wanted to jump up and slam the door shut to keep her in before she could escape back to the kitchen again. "And will you stay to enjoy it with me?"
For a moment, it seemed as if she was truly meant to be just a delivery girl but a quick glance over her shoulder and Helga was decided. "Your mother is... proving to be quite the taskmaster. The house elves have agreed to lie about my whereabouts should she come checking up on the progress this morning."
"So we have time together?" Rowena couldn't stop the smile from tugging at her lips as she contemplated just what that phrase meant. She imagined Helga's soft hair tumbling down her back, unbound from the normal plaits that encircled her head. Her fingers itched to be able to comb through it, to wind it around her fingers until she was ensnared with the titan strands.
There was a pause, as if Helga was working through all the implications before agreeing to this break in her schedule. Rowena knew enough about the girl that she would go back to the kitchens without another thought if she felt that was where she needed to be. But maybe, just maybe, her own smiles would be enough to pull the girl to her today.
"Please, Helga. Stay with me. I have so little time left where I will be my own person. Where I can do what I like without having to explain myself to anyone."
"But your mother-"
Rowena fell back on her bed, raising her arms to the ceiling. "My mother cares only that there will be food on the tables come tomorrow. It doesn't matter to her who makes that happen, be that you or your minions that have multiplied every day you've been here. With all that help, I think that you'd be able to have a few moments-"
The mattress shifted as Helga climbed up onto the bed. She snuggled up beside the girl, resting her head on Rowena's shoulder but keeping her face tucked away. "I've told you, they aren't minions."
Her cheeks hurt from the huge smile that suddenly broke out on her face. Rowena could feel a wave of happiness swamping her heart. With care, so that she didn't frighten Helga away, she brought her arm down and around the trembling girl. This was not just about what she decided to call the house elves, Rowena realized. This was much deeper than that. This was her chance to tell Helga just how she felt about her. To explain that their differences meant nothing to her.
"Yes, I know they aren't your minions but they hold you in such high regard that they could be. If you were a different sort of person. But you aren't. I admire that about you." When the girl lifted her head and started to protest, Rowena put a finger over her lips to silence her for the moment. "You have many wonderful qualities. You're kind and generous. You bake the most divine pastries. And then there's the way that you make me feel. When you smile, you make my day brighter. Your eyes find mine and I want to giggle. I haven't giggled since I was a child, Helga. But you make me want to giggle again because there's too much happiness in my soul to keep it hidden away."
Helga licked at the finger keeping her words hostage, nuzzling the wet digit against her warm cheek. "You deserve to be happy."
"I don't think that I am meant to be, though. I've tried to read my cards lately but... it frightens me to do so. I can feel the sadness of my future when my hands hover over the cards." She reached down to smooth a hand over Helga's braids. "Would you do something for me?"
"Anything," the girl whispered.
"Would you undo your hair? I've wanted to see it all for ever so long. You always wear it up."
The words were hardly out of her mouth before Helga was struggling to sit up, her hands at the pins that were keeping it all in place. In no time at all, the auburn tresses were flowing down over the flour-dusted pinafore. Suddenly, Helga seemed to become conscious that her clothes were nothing like those that Rowena wore. "This will not do at all. I'm a mess."
Before she could pull back her hair and run from the room, Rowena captured her hands in both her own. "That is something I can help you with."
"I will not have charity." The words were said in a strange, fierce voice, accompanied by brightly coloured cheeks and an icy gaze. It was a change worthy of the strong backbone that Rowena had always assumed was hidden beneath the kind words and happy expression.
"You misunderstand me, Helga. I don't want to dress you up." Rowena tugged at one of the ties in the back of the garment. "I want to undress you. When we are both without clothes, neither will be able to judge the other."
"You do not have to flatter me to make me want to lay with you." But the ice was thawing in her eyes. She lifted her hair so that Rowena could do a better job of undoing the ties. When all were undone, Helga turned her head to look at Rowena again. "Since the first moment I saw you, I felt as if we belonged together. As if we share a bond. Do not fear your future for I will always be there for you."
The flush that coloured Rowena's cheeks continued until her belly was aflame with desire. "Now who has the pretty words," she murmured as she leaned forward, her lips touching the other girl's in the softest caress. She wasn't sure what to do from here but Helga took over, pivoting around so that she was astride Rowena's lap. This time, their lips met with a much fiercer clash. Tongues waged a battle, fingers quested and fought to gain access to skin still covered with clothing, breath mingled. When they finally pulled apart for the first time, Rowena could only pant as her lungs struggled to pull in air once more.
They finished undressing so that their next kiss melded not just their lips but their skin. Rowena pulled Helga's hips against her own, moaning as she felt the heat radiating from the girl's core. She traced a pattern over hips and thighs that she longed to trace with her lips when she'd had her fill of the girl's kisses. One hand became tangled in a long strand of Helga's hair and her attention was all drawn to the silky strands once again.
Her desire continued to increase until she was conscious only of Helga's fingers kneading her breast. Capturing them, she drew them down her body until they were at the entrance to her throbbing core. "Touch me," she whispered, remembering what her daydreams had been like lately. She'd been pretending her own fingers were really Helga's since she'd first seen the girl but that didn't even begin to compare to the real thing touching her now.
She pushed Helga down onto the bed, supporting herself on trembling arms as she rode the questing fingers. Her back arched as she struggled to find the exact place where ecstasy and agony coexisted together. When her throat was raw from screaming and every muscle in her body quivered, she lay in the protection of Helga's arms and tried to remember how to breath.
"I must get back to the kitchens. The food must be up to your mother's satisfaction," Helga murmured, trying to extract herself from Rowena's sprawled body.
"You aren't going anywhere until I've given you the same satisfaction you've given me. I care not what the food tastes like tomorrow. Your helpers can make everything for all I care. I want you beside me this day, of all days. Would you deny me this on request?" She finished her plea with a swirl of her tongue around one of Helga's puckered nipples. As she had hoped, Helga was loathe to deny her anything.
With an ease she certainly didn't feel, she began exploring Helga's body with her tongue and hands. When she finally arrived at the nest of fiery red curls that matched the rest of the hair on Helga's body, she smiled and glanced up at her friend. "Would you like me to stop?" she asked as she placed a chaste kiss on the sensitive skin of her upper thigh. "You have all those duties to perform-"
Helga's answer was to knot her hands in Rowena's hair and push her back towards her weeping core. Rowena had found her perfect happiness at last. This girl truly was the other half of her aching heart. Her life was complete.
***
Her magic was not enough for Heldincourt. On the fourth noon of their married life, when all the family and well-wishers had gone back to their lives, he finally laid out his demands. A steady stream of magic to keep his home lavish and acceptable for any guests he might want to invite over for a random feast, ensuring his place in society. Amulets to ensure that he would be the greatest hunter in any group he went out with so that he was thought well of and looked upon with envy. Spells to keep him randy as a goat to fulfill all the women he would continue to keep in his life. And an heir.
She was prepared for the first three demands, had been helping with the first since she'd agreed to what she'd thought would be a sham of a marriage. The woman she had assumed was his grandmother had been the last witch he'd made a bargain with to make his life as perfect as possible. He'd sapped her of all her strength and magic, leaving her a husk of a woman who had literally crumbled to dust at the end of her life. After he'd used her up, he went looking for something better than just an average witch. He wanted the best.
As Heldincourt told the story, Rowena's revulsion for him grew as she realized just what trap she suddenly found herself in. Even if this man didn't have much of a handle over his own magic, never being taught how to use it properly, he did have a physical prowess that made him dangerous.
"If I die, witch," he held her chin up with one of his huge fingers, "then everything you love dies."
"My parents can-"
"Not your parents. I care nothing for them. Nor, do I suppose, do you." His laughter froze her blood to ice in her veins. She tried not to shiver as his hand moved from her chin to clasp her throat. "Don't think I didn't notice those looks you spent the last few months giving that kitchen wench. You thought you could have both milk and cream. I don't mind but we will have one thing straight between us. You will come to me when I ask and you will conceive an heir within the year or she will lose a hand. I will do it with this blade in this room while you watch her blood drip on the carpet. Her screams will wipe away any memories you have of her passionate moans."
When she didn't protest, he pressed his thumb into the hollow of her throat until she had to step back or lose her ability to speak. Bile rose up her throat and she only just succeeded in swallowing it back down again. She was too busy trying to figure out how her secret had been leaked to question his edicts. It didn't every occur to her to question if he would do as he'd promised.
It was only later, as she lay shivering in the bed that she had been so apathetic about only a few hours ago, that she wondered what he had in place if he died. Were there spells that would activate if she were to pick her wand up and curse him? Could she harm him physically without repercussions? As her own blood pooled from between the battered and bruised place between her legs, she felt her resolve crystallize. Whatever it took, she would figure out how to free herself from this bondage that she had so thoughtlessly placed herself in.
Part 2: Rowena, a wife
When you're young you have this image of your life:
That you'll be scrupulous and one day even make a wife.
And you make boundaries you'd never dream to cross,
And if you happen to, you wake completely lost.
She started every morning with a walk through the gardens to the small piles of stone that marked the entrance to the woods beyond. There were two markers but there would be three within the week. Nothing she had been able to concoct had put color into the pale cheeks of Grayson and his cough had gotten more pronounced over the last few days. The wet season had just begun. There was nothing she could do to keep her small child from the inevitable lung infection that would claim his life.
The only tears she had ever wept have been in this place and only when she'd not been accompanied by anyone else. As far as everyone else thought, she was beyond such emotions that came with the loss of a child. There had been whisperings about her in the Muggle village nearby, many believing that she was a witch come to kill them all. The fields in the area hadn't produced nearly as much since she'd come to live at the Heldincourt residence. Many of the villagers had fallen sick and died. No matter that the rain hadn't stopped falling or that many of the farmers had been trying to grow crops from tired land that was in need of a year's rest. They lay the whole fault at her feet and she had let them because she no longer cared about her life.
A witch she may have been but she was also a grieving mother and a terrified wife. Each afternoon was spent ensuring that all her spells were working properly before moving on to new recipes for different salves to take away the stain of last night's bruising. As soon as it had become apparant that Grayson would not live to see his first birthday, Heldincourt vowed to plant his seed more firmly in his wife this next time.
"A fine, strapping son this time, witch. No more of your conjuring up potions to drink that will make my children weaklings."
"Yes, my husband." The fire had long since gone out of her words. She had barely enough strength to keep the fires of her rancor burning in her chest without wasting it on sarcasm that Heldincourt wouldn't recognize.
As she stared at the two mounds, she thought of the children they sheltered. The first had been a little girl. She had been as full of life as her mother, with bouncing dark curls and a look in her eye that boded ill for any one who got in her way. It had been obvious right away that this was a child who would be able to handle herself when her father was around, Rowena had decided and been glad of it. She spent her days knitting little outfits fit for a princess, telling her cooing daughter all the lore she could think of even if she was barely able to hold her head up.
Rowena made the mistake of warning her husband to hold the child gently one afternoon in the garden. "You favour this child," he thundered, in a sudden rage. "You meant to have a girl-child just to show the world that you are greater than I am. I know you, witch. I understand what goes on in that mind of yours."
With a great shout, he threw the small child onto the rocks outlining the path. Nothing Rowena could think of would stop the bleeding or return the heartbeat into the small chest.
Heldincourt demanded a boy this time. Two children died in her belly from the harsh treatment she began to receive at his hand but he didn't care. In his mind, he was convinced those had been girls that she had been carrying in direct retaliation of his orders. Losing them was her punishment for trying to outsmart him.
The second mound had been the much-waited for male heir. He stopped breathing almost as soon as he was named. Try as she might, Rowena was not able to convince her husband that her magic had nothing to do with it.
While she was carrying Grayson, Heldincourt had her locked away in a dungeon with only bread and water to sustain her. None of her books or her wand were allowed in her prison with her. "You won't be able to kill this one. I've outwitted you, at last." But nothing he did could ensure that his seed would spring true. Rowena had only just recently realized that the last witch to suffer under his threats had put a curse on him with her dying breath so that no Heldincourt heir would ever live to maturity. That, along with Rowena's ire for her husband, would kill every male child she would ever produce.
As the tears leaked out of her eyes, Rowena wondered what death might feel like. Certainly it would be far better than this life she lived now.
***
Helga seldom visited for she bore a scar on her right hip from the last time they thought they might have some time together. Heldincourt had come home unexpectantly, catching them huddled together in front of the kitchen fire. They had been doing nothing but catching up on each other's lives and sharing a warm loaf of bread that Helga had made especially for her friend, but he had seen what he wanted to see. The only thing that had saved Helga from a more severe beating was Rowena's quick thinking. She grabbed a knife and held it to her own throat.
"If she is harmed, you will be left with nothing for I'll spill my own blood just as quickly as you like to." Her threat had worked on both of them for Helga dared not come back for fear that Rowena would harm herself to keep Helga safe.
On the day that new baby's life quickened within Rowena's belly, Helga sent a letter. I have found a solution to all your problems. His name is Salazar and he thinks he can help. Pray find a way to meet me on Diagon Alley on 15 February for I want you to meet him. I've already told him of your plight, dear friend. Be assured that I am here for you. Always.
A tiny spark of hope sprung up in her chest. To have news from her friend on the same day as she discovered that she was carrying a baby girl was almost too much joy for her to comprehend. If there was a way out of this life before this baby came to the attention of her husband, perhaps this life would be able to grow and thrive.
The fifteenth was not far away but there was much for Rowena to do to ensure that she would be able to leave. She hadn't wandered far from the grounds for many years but it was possible for her to do so. Heldincourt hadn't wanted it to seem as if she was being kept prisoner, after all. As long as he was assured that his property and person were safe from harm, he was more than happy to let her wander wherever she might like.
She dressed with care on that cold morning. While she was interested to meet this man that Helga claimed could help her, she was more eager to see her friend again. Love felt like a foreign concept to her these days but there was a still a glow in her heart when she thought of Helga. Excitement coloured her cheeks but her hands were steady as she reached for her wand, caressing it with a slim finger before clutching it tight. Before Heldincourt could come in and demand to know where she was going, she Apparated to Diagon Alley.
There were still not many houses on the street, although there was more life here than there had been the last time she'd been here. Helga had enjoyed shopping at the few shops that had been open but had preferred the courser establishments, having been raised in a small farming community in Wales. The little time she'd spent with the Ravenclaws had done little to endure her to the higher levels of society that could be found in the wizarding society which was why she had enjoyed the commonness of Diagon Alley. There was a small pub at the edges of the settlement that she had approved of on those early outings. It was here that Rowena all but ran, keeping her head down for fear of someone recognizing her. There was really very few people who might pick her out as the Ravenclaw daughter, as she'd never been much for society herself before her marriage. Then, just as now, her saving grace had been her books.
Thankfully, Helga was waiting for her just outside the door to the tavern. She was instantly enveloped in her friend's arms, surrounded by the smell of risen yeast and melted butter that always accompanied her. As Rowena laid her head on Helga's comforting shoulder, she couldn't hold back the sob from the back of her throat. For several minutes, they stood, wrapped together, as Rowena fought to get her emotions back into check once again. Not a tear had fallen from her eyes so that, when she finally composed herself, her face was just as serene as ever to anyone who hadn't witnessed the previous scene.
"I was concerned you wouldn't make it."
Even the tiniest bit of concern nearly brought Rowena to the edge once again. She smiled, clutching at Helga's hand as if she needed to be tethered to the earth. "I wouldn't have missed this for anything. I should have tried harder to come to you before this. We've been apart too long."
"No, I don't want you endangering yourself and, by Ptolemy, are you with child again? You are, aren't you? I can see it in your face and now... I can feel her magic twined with yours." There was both fear and happiness in Helga's eyes as she reached out to embrace Rowena yet again. "She's strong. So much stronger than the others."
"She was born of my desperation."
Helga let her move away but continued to hold tightly onto her friend's upper arms. "And we're going to get your free. Salazar has spent hours researching this. I know he'll have the answer."
It made Rowena's face flush to think that someone else was privy to her predicament. It was bad enough that her pride pricked to know that Helga was seeing her at her very worst. This was something she should have been able to fight her way out of alone. "I... I don't know what to say."
"Just say that you'll give him a chance. He's a bit... well, he's not sane. Not the way that most people decide is sane, at least. But he's ever so competent. You'll see what I mean when you meet him. Oh, and Godric came along as well. I should have warned you about him but please remember that he's a very good man on the inside. Where it counts."
With Helga's warnings ringing in her ears, she let her friend lead her into the quiet room. For a dreary winter's day, it was nearly empty. As Helga slashed her wand at the door, Rowena realized that the whole place was under a spell so that they would be alone. For a strange, disjointed moment, Rowena wondered what she had missed of Helga's life all these years. Waves of jealousy were pushing at her, threatening to drag her away on a tide of possessiveness for a woman who had every right to go on living while she herself had all but curled up and hidden away.
A hearty greeting rocked the timbers of the room, sending motes of dust floating down from the rafters. Even though Helga was pulling her forward, Rowena dug in her heels so that the two of them came to an abrupt halt. A giant of a man stood in the middle of the room. His great beard and long hair were deep brown in colour but that was the only difference between him and her husband. It didn't matter that this man had a smile on his face or kindness radiating from his eyes. All she saw was the brute of a man she was forced to spend her life in servitude toward.
"That's Godric. Godric Gryffindor." Helga was trying to get her moving forward again but Rowena was having none of it. She had not come here to be trapped yet again. Her wand was up, ready to defend herself against an onslaught before she even realized what was happening. The deadly actions she had worked so hard to keep hidden in her daily life hadn't been completely eradicated, only hidden away for when she could use them once again. "Sit down. You're scaring her. I told you to wait until you were introduced, you great brute. Do something, Salazar. Don't just sit there, grinning like a lynx."
There was a scuffle of movement and sense of weightlessness. Without realizing that she'd moved or been moved, Rowena was in a comfortable chair in front of a roaring fire. The delightful scent of yeast told her that Helga was nearby but she had no desire to turn her head to look for her. A sense of calm had infused through her veins. Surely it was a spell, she reasoned with herself, but she didn't care any longer. She as warm and cared for and little else mattered.
"Okay, give me back my friend from where you've taken her. Yes, that's better. How do you feel, Rowena?"
"Better. Thank you."
Helga settled down at Rowena's feet, her hands resting on Rowena's lap. There was a hesitant movement to the side that had her frowning. She indicated the man pulling a chair closer to the flames with her chin. "That's Godric. He's really very kind even if he is frightfully large. But he doesn't use his size or his strength to hurt people."
"Nor will I ever," the man interjected with a deep voice that would have made Rowena start to quiver again if it wasn't for a continued calming influence. Instead, she was able to see the humor in the man's shy smile. The truth of Helga's words were clear enough now that Rowena wouldn't have pulled her wand on him again even if she hadn't been mentally tied down. "I would like to be your friend, Miss Rowena. If you'll allow it, that is. I won't take it personally if you don't want to. Miss Helga's told us a bit of your story. A right bugger you've found yourself married to."
"Stop talking," Helga commanded as tears began to fill Rowena's eyes. "Don't you remember me telling you to stop talking? I gave you three specific directions and you've now failed at two of them. Should I expect that you'll be breaking furniture next?"
"Leave him be," came a quiet hissing from the other side of the fire. A man sat there, as quiet and still as a cat watching a playing mouse. Long, silver hair gleamed in the firelight. That and the lined face of the man gave the illusion that he was old but Rowena doubted that he was actually as old as he seemed. His wand was settled on his lap as if it wasn't in use but Rowena could suddenly feel the pull of magic from him. He was the one responsible for the spell.
She had to concentrate to get the right words out. "You must be Salazar. Please unbind me. I'll behave."
With a nod from Helga, he did as she asked. As soon as the spell dropped, she reached out to hold Helga's hands as a way of keeping herself balanced. "That was impressive. I've never been held under any sort of spell for that long. I had a nurse when I was younger that tried but she never succeeded for more than a few seconds. May I ask what spell you used?"
"Not one you'll ever find in any books. At least not one that's ever been written. I'm currently working on a book of my own design but that is getting ahead of myself in the conversation. Might I inquire why you didn't simply break out of the spell?"
"Because... because I couldn't."
Salazar shook his head, "No, you simply did not. At any time, you could have brushed it aside as simply as you did the nurse's spell when you were a child. You seem to have forgotten how strong you truly are."
"I'm not-"
"You are one of the strongest witches I've come into contact with. Even Helga, who is also quite extraordinary, cannot hold a candle to you. Even without the help of your child, you would be able to best most magic."
"But not all." She surveyed the three faces in front of her. Two people had figured out that she was once again with child. That meant that soon Heldincourt would be able to figure it out for himself. They had scant time to work this out if she was going to be able to save her child. "Helga has told you my story so you know of the spell that binds me to my husband. Part of it is done in blood and part of it is done in death. Neither of which I am familiar with."
All three of them smiled but it was Helga who answered. "That is why I know we can defeat him now. Godric is the best duelist I have ever seen. He's taken on much stronger spells than any that are wrapped around you. And Salazar understands the darker magic in a way that no one else ever has."
"Except the Endoric Witches but they're all dead now."
"Yes, well, that's neither here nor there. But we can help you, Ro. We have the abilities to overturn anything that bastard throws at us. He won't be able to hurt you or your baby. Not ever again."
She was willing to let them try with one exception. "I want my parents protected. I've already brought enough grief to my family. I'll have no more brought to them to bear because of my actions."
***
They had nothing to fear for her parents. Three days after their first meeting, the Ravenclaws were traveling by carriage to their home on the coast. A wind storm swept a tree into their path. The horses bolted and before anyone thought to get out their wands, the coachman, the footman and the two passengers were broken and bloody at the bottom of a ravine.
As soon as Rowena received the news, she packed her bags with the essentials she had already decided to take with her on this flight. There was no time for tears. Not yet. When she arrived at Helga's doorstep, she sent a message to Salazar and Godric.
It has begun. There are no other impediments in the way of our plan. Meet us tonight.
***
The Manor was in flames but no one was doing anything to put them out. It had been frightfully easy to undo the spell that Heldincourt had cast over Rowena once they understood the basic structure. Salazar moaned over the poor construction which is what had baffled them at first.
"No one knows how to cast a decent spell anymore. We've raised countless generations of lax witches and wizards. 'Tis a pity."
Godric clapped the man on the back, his soot-covered face solemn. It was so odd to see him without a smile that Rowena felt like frowning herself. "We should do something about that. We've two of the most talented witches and, I'll dare say, the two best wizards alive right here. Seems to me that we could do more than most people could if we stuck together."
"Not again, Godric. I don't want to teach anyone anything right now. I just want a warm cup of tea." But there was a smile on Salazar's lips.
Rowena leaned into Helga, letting herself be wrapped in a warm embrace. She had lost nothing tonight. As the flames traveled up toward the icy blue Storm Moon, Rowena didn't feel at all sad about what she had witnessed tonight. The man she had been wedded to had been a monster. The more she had talked to Salazar, the more she realized that Heldincourt had kept her from something very precious - he had made her forget just how strong she was. Not just as a witch but as a woman. No one would ever do that to her again.
Part 3: Rowena, a woman
And we will only need each other, we'll bleed together,
these hands will not be taught to hold another's
'cause we're the special two.
And we could only see each other, we'll breathe together
These arms will not be taught to need another,
'cause we're the special two.
"It's beautiful, Helga." Rowena held the curve of silver up to the light so she could see the diamonds sparkle. Even with flour motes flying through the air from the busy kitchen in the room beyond, there was enough natural light in the room that she could see what an artistic masterpiece she was holding in her hands. "Wherever did you find anything so divine?"
Helga dropped to sit at Rowena's feet, resting her ear against the woman's round belly to listen to the baby for a moment before lifting her head with a smile. "I will admit to you now that this isn't just from me. It's from Godric and Salazar, as well. You're the only one who... who doesn't have an heirloom to put on display at the school."
It took a moment for Rowena to flutter her eyelashes enough to keep the tears at bay. She could have blamed it on the extreme emotional shift she was having this pregnancy but she knew it was because she still felt a pang of sorrow every time she realized that she had lost most every single Ravenclaw artifact. There had been a magical recoil the night that Heldincourt was destroyed, one that would have surely destroyed her parents if they had still lived. Salazar had assured her that there was nothing she could have done to prevent it but the loss of life amoung the servants still stung. The glorious library that that decades of Ravenclaws had added to had become nothing more than ash.
As if following her train of thought, Helga picked up the hand that wasn't holding the diadem and laced their fingers together. "You'll have that library again, dearest. It's going to be bigger than anything your father or grandfather ever dreamed about. You'll see. This is the right thing to do."
It was all a bit much to think about at the moment. She'd gone along with Godric's plans for a school because it had helped her to think about something other than what sort of shambles her life was in. There were only two bright points - Helga and the little girl that was becoming more persistant in announcing her plans on joining them soon. Everything else was pale and watery and not that important.
She did try, though. Godric had left some of the designs of the castle up to her discretion but she hadn't done much more than scribble ideas down on the papers he'd left with her. When the school was discussed, she tried to join in but it always felt as if she was just smiling and nodding along with everything that anyone said.
"I know," she whispered. "We'll be doing good thing by teaching these people to actually use their magic instead of relying on family mythology handed down through the generations. It's a good thing."
As always, Helga cut right to the heart of the matter. "But you don't think they all deserve it."
"What if he had been taught to truly use his magic? What sort of condition would our country be in? He would have taken hold of every bit of power he came into contact with and more would have suffered. More than just...." She couldn't finish the thought. As they always did when she started to talk about the horrors of this possibility, her words clogged in her throat. Helga was the only one who knew the terrors that woke her in the middle of the night, the screams that tore out of her soul before she could contain them.
"That's part of the reason we need to do this. Power that is shared becomes less of a thing to be longed for. That is what we'll teach them. That's why there are four of us. We all have special skills so that we can attain great things. Alone, we wouldn't be nearly as powerful. Not a single one of us can take power from the others without losing something vital."
Even though Rowena nodded, she wasn't completely sure she agreed. Vows and promises weren't something she would be able to trust for a long while, no matter who was saying the words.
***
Her throat felt raw from all the screaming. No matter that the midwife told her that this pain was to be expected or that Helga assured her that everything was going just as it aught, Rowena knew that something wasn't right. She hadn't been like this for any of the other births. There was a rending of her soul, as if the baby was intent on taking a part of her when she left the womb. Each contraction of her muscles was a threat to her completeness.
"You're doing fine, Rowena. She's almost here. Almost here. Just keep pushing."
But I don't want to push. She's going to rip me in half. But what would Helga say if she were to actually articulate those words? The only other option was to kill the baby. But, no. That wasn't an option. She wasn't Heldincourt. She would never harm another living being as he had. No matter what happened, she would care for this baby with every ounce of her power.
"I'm your mumma," she whispered to the infant the mid-wife lay on her chest. Every part of her body ached with the effort of the birth but it was the emptiness inside that worried her more than anything. There would be time to worry about that later. Now she had a child to take care of, to nourish and raise with love and light. "Oh, my darling. Mumma is here. Nothing will ever hurt you again."
The mid-wife cast a cleaning spell on mother, baby and room before leaving as quietly as she had entered hours before. As if sensing the loss of a spectator, the baby began to fret. Even with the two women trying to comfort her with touch, she couldn't be satisfied.
"I know I shouldn't laugh but she's so cute when she screws her face up like that. Such an adorable baby, even only a few minutes after her birth. What will you call her?" Helga had been biding her time for weeks, holding back her question when the suspense had clearly been driving her batty. Even though Rowena hadn't meant to keep it a secret, she wasn't sure exactly what she wanted to name the baby.
As she looked up into the shining eyes of her love, she now knew exactly what she wanted to call her daughter. There was no way she could tell the world of her love for Helga Hufflepuff in any other way, for even though they shared a house, they were merely a widow and an eccentric baker to most everyone that cared look their way. But she was so much more than that to Rowena.
"Her name is Helena. Helena Ravenclaw."
Helga's quizzical expression immediately fell as she struggled with her composure. "You... you didn't have... have to."
"But I want to. You're the only thing that has kept me going these past months. No, even before that. If I'd been as wise as I profess to be, I would have taken you in my arms that day we met and walked out of my parent's house. I shouldn't have been so prideful. Look at where it landed me."
The baby stopped crying as she discovered the waiting breast, content to nuzzle at it for a moment before latching on. Helga smoothed a trembling hand over the small head covered with dark hair matted down by sweat and magic. "But if you hadn't, you wouldn't have this little darling."
And I would still have a complete soul. Rowena pushed that thought back down. Now was not the time to try to reason out what had happened here tonight or what this might mean for her. "True. We're very lucky to have her, you and I." She lifted a hand to smooth down the bit of hair that had come loose from Helga's clip, smiling sincerely at the woman who had done so much for her. Not only had she saved her from her husband and the life full of pain that the cards had foretold, but she had saved her heart as well. "And I am very lucky to have you. Very lucky, indeed."
"No. I'm the lucky one." Tears dripped down Helga's face. She moved her head so that Rowena's hand was cupping her cheek. "When we first met, you made me realize just how special I was. Seeing me through your eyes, I saw what kind of person I could be. All these years, I have strived to make your vision of me a reality. I've wanted to be a woman worthy of your love."
"But that's not what-"
Helga shook her head, pulling away from mother and baby. "We've become maudlin, you and I. You should rest. There is still much to do before you and Helena," her voice softened as she smoothed her hand over the baby's tiny hand that was clutching at Rowena's bare skin, "can settle down for the night. We will talk more in the morning."
It was impossible for Rowena to form words as she watched Helga walk from the room. For several moments, she struggled with her emotions, all but giving up on getting them to even out so she could think coherently. The only person around to hear her whispered words was Helena, and she didn't seem to care what was going on around her at the moment. "You have always been worthy of my love. It is I, dear heart, who had to become worthy of your love. Every day, I still struggle on but it is always you, holding me up, that keeps me going down the right road."
***
The last time Rowena saw the ginger-haired witch, all she could do was smile. Each breath was a struggle but she never took her eyes off Helga's face. Love for this woman made her heart sing even as it struggled to keep beating. A few more minutes. All she wanted was a few more minutes with Helga and she would go peacefully.
"Why didn't you tell me when you first discovered there was something wrong? We could have done something then."
"What... would you have... done?" Rowena asked even though she didn't want the answer.
If she could have kept this secret from Helga forever, she would have. If only she hadn't followed through with Salazar's plan to find Helena, her daughter might still be alive. Rowena had been sick but it hadn't been so bad that the Baron needed to find Helena and bring her back. No matter the coughing fits, Rowena might have lived for years longer, even if the men thought she was near death. Any sickness scared them. They were worriers, not like Helga who faced every adversity with a smile and the subtle lifting of her chin. Even so, she hadn't wanted to tell Helga that utilizing Helena's magic, while she was in the womb, had bound the two women together far stronger than the normal mother/daughter bond. They shared a soul and the death of one of them had endangered the other.
"I would have found a way to protect you." Helga's voice was high-pitched, a sure sign she was under distress. In that moment, if it was psosible, Rowena loved her more. "We could have figured out a way to separate the two of you. We could have spared you from all of this. There must have been a potion or something we could have found that would have helped your lung disease. You never even gave me a chance."
"Love, you... couldn't have helped... me."
"I could have tried." Tears were running down her cheeks now, dripping on the hand she was holding to her lips. "You never gave me a chance."
Nothing would have worked. In her heart, Rowena saw the last twenty-five years as a gift. She knew that Godric would make up some cockamamy story for the history books so that her death would seem romantic but the plain truth was that she should have died the moment she gave birth to Helena. Any more time than that was a gift, plain and simple.
She moved her fingers slightly, a caress against her lover's lips. It was all she could do even though she would have rather pulled Helga down for a kiss. As if hearing her thoughts, Helga leaned down and touched her lips gently to Rowena's. It was nothing compared to the passionate kisses they'd shared in the past. No, this was better. This was a gesture as full of love as any they had shared.
"She... took my... soul but you... have always had... my heart."
The last sound Rowena heard was her friend trying to stifle a sob. She wanted to tell her that there was more for her to do in this life than to mourn her, that there was still so much for her to accomplish. The children needed her. All of the children. Those that were magical and those that weren't. In the last minutes of her life, Rowena was finally able to see what Helga had been saying for all these years. She just wished she had enough energy to tell her what she now saw with great clarity.
Instead, she smiled as her eyes drifted shut. She had lived a good life, no matter what the cards had predicted for her. No matter the horrors she had witnessed and experienced, she wouldn't have changed it for anything. Her life choices had brought her both Helga and Helena. They had been her life and, for that, she was thankful.
Author: lar_laughs
Characters: Rowena Ravenclaw/Helga Hufflepuff (with a command performance by Salazar Slytherin and Godric Gryffindor)
Prompt Number: #126
Word Count: ~8900
Rating: R
Warnings: Domestic violence, angst, character death
Summary: Rowena's life, summed up in three parts.
Disclaimer: I do not own the Founders or any other character from the Harry Potter books. Those are owned by JK Rowling and Scholastic Books.
Author's Note: The title and lyrics at the top of each part are from The Lucky Two by Missy Higgins. I hope this isn't too angsty for prompter but I couldn't resist the idea that took over my brain when I heard this song on my iPod while washing the dishes. Much thanks and love to my beta, Aster. I took liberties with Rowena's life but did it with good intent.
The Lucky Two
Part 1: Rowena, a girl
I remember someone old once said to me:
That lies will lock you up with truth the only key.
But I was comfortable and warm inside my shell,
And couldn't see this place would soon become my hell.
The first time Rowena saw the ginger-haired witch, she wanted to weep. It was her engagement day, the day her parents had been eagerly awaiting since she had reached her majority seven years ago. She'd given in to their demands only a few weeks ago, agreeing to marry Nathaniel Heldincourt because she was tired of arguing. It would be nice to have some peace outside of the library for once.
And now she was paying for her impatience as she held out her hand to the younger woman with a smudge of flour on her cheek. This was where she should have said something like, "I've heard your meringue rivals that of even Queen Mab" or "Roast goose is your specialty? It's my favorite" but her tongue was suddenly too big for her mouth and her lungs weren't moving air in and out of her body properly.
The other girl seemed to have no difficulty as she dipped into a low curtsy. "You do me a great honor to select me, of all the others you could have chosen, to cook your wedding feast."
Perhaps it was all in her imagination that there had been spark of recognition of kindred spirits in the girl's eyes when they had first alighted on her own. No, there it was again. The girl turned her head slightly so that, as she lifted it back up, she was hidden from the other occupants of the room. Her smile was from the devil himself as it made Rowena's insides turn over.
What were these feelings? She'd never felt this for anyone before. If no one else had been in the room, she might have stepped forward so that she was close enough to Helga to feel the warmth of her skin. She would have lifted a hand to run it through the tiny curls at the nap of her neck that had escaped from her combs. If those advances weren't spurned, she would have leaned in for a kiss. Just one. No use glutting on this girl on the first acquaintance, after all. She was like a dessert that needed to be savoured.
Color painted Rowena's cheeks as she realized what exactly she had been thinking of doing. Heaven help her, she wanted to bed this girl. Not that it was a new feeling for her. When her mother had threatened to send her a nunnery, she'd delighted in that idea too much for her mother's taste and that had quickly stopped being a punishment anyone used. Naked male statues left her cold as ice but even a heavily draped female form left her staring long after everyone else walked by.
This was one of the reasons for the push toward Lord Heldincourt. He was richer than the Ravenclaws but, most importantly, didn't spend much time at his main home in favor for the fleet of hunting lodges wherever there was plentiful game and, if the stories were to be believed, willing wenches at the ready. He didn't mind a woman as well-read as Rowena and only smiled when she flung her most sarcastic barbs at him. His own family was long dead, the men having succumbed to the lust for glory on the battlefield and the women bearing the truth that musty old castles were torture on delicate lungs.
"I would have you show me one of your dishes," Rowena declared as a shiver of desire left her knees knocking together. She had to have time alone with this girl and she knew just how to achieve that. "No, two of them at the very least. I would hate for everyone at my marriage feast to go home hungry and tell the countryside that Heldincourt didn't feed them properly."
"Very good idea. I'll leave you to your discussions. Come, Ravenclaw." Heldincourt clapped her father on the shoulder with a meaty paw, laughing too loudly and too stridently for anyone of good stature. He was no better than the dogs he always had lying at his feet. "Show me that copse of trees you were describing last time. I think that would be just the place to set up a deer blind." And with that, her fiance and her father were out of the way.
"Mother, I'll leave you to the arrangements." Rowena stood up, sweeping her dress away from Helga as if she was afraid the girl would contaminate it with her flour-dusted hands. "You know what Heldincourt likes. Ten dishes at the very least."
And just as she predicated, her mother began to fall all over herself to get out of the room, crying that it was no longer her duty to keep the countryside fed at her daughter's wedding. A daughter, she pointed out for the third time that day, that had reached her majority enough years ago to make her more than ready to run her own household without any help. Always before she had listened to the familiar rant, chiming in with her own fierce argument as to what she thought of her parents trying to run her life as if it was their own to command, but today she watched her mother leave with pursed lips and a song in her heart.
Her words to Helga were quiet, meant only for the two of them even though they were all but alone in this room. "Take me to the kitchens and show me your skills."
The grin she received back made her heart sing. It might have been her engagement day but she would always look back on it as the day she discovered her true heart.
***
The day before her wedding started out like any other day, except for the wafting scent of bread and cinnamon that woke her. That could only mean one thing. She rolled to her side as the door to her room widened and a cart began to roll through the opening. When Helga's smiling face came into view, Rowena's heart skipped a beat.
"What have you brought me?" she asked, staying where she was even though she wanted to jump up and slam the door shut to keep her in before she could escape back to the kitchen again. "And will you stay to enjoy it with me?"
For a moment, it seemed as if she was truly meant to be just a delivery girl but a quick glance over her shoulder and Helga was decided. "Your mother is... proving to be quite the taskmaster. The house elves have agreed to lie about my whereabouts should she come checking up on the progress this morning."
"So we have time together?" Rowena couldn't stop the smile from tugging at her lips as she contemplated just what that phrase meant. She imagined Helga's soft hair tumbling down her back, unbound from the normal plaits that encircled her head. Her fingers itched to be able to comb through it, to wind it around her fingers until she was ensnared with the titan strands.
There was a pause, as if Helga was working through all the implications before agreeing to this break in her schedule. Rowena knew enough about the girl that she would go back to the kitchens without another thought if she felt that was where she needed to be. But maybe, just maybe, her own smiles would be enough to pull the girl to her today.
"Please, Helga. Stay with me. I have so little time left where I will be my own person. Where I can do what I like without having to explain myself to anyone."
"But your mother-"
Rowena fell back on her bed, raising her arms to the ceiling. "My mother cares only that there will be food on the tables come tomorrow. It doesn't matter to her who makes that happen, be that you or your minions that have multiplied every day you've been here. With all that help, I think that you'd be able to have a few moments-"
The mattress shifted as Helga climbed up onto the bed. She snuggled up beside the girl, resting her head on Rowena's shoulder but keeping her face tucked away. "I've told you, they aren't minions."
Her cheeks hurt from the huge smile that suddenly broke out on her face. Rowena could feel a wave of happiness swamping her heart. With care, so that she didn't frighten Helga away, she brought her arm down and around the trembling girl. This was not just about what she decided to call the house elves, Rowena realized. This was much deeper than that. This was her chance to tell Helga just how she felt about her. To explain that their differences meant nothing to her.
"Yes, I know they aren't your minions but they hold you in such high regard that they could be. If you were a different sort of person. But you aren't. I admire that about you." When the girl lifted her head and started to protest, Rowena put a finger over her lips to silence her for the moment. "You have many wonderful qualities. You're kind and generous. You bake the most divine pastries. And then there's the way that you make me feel. When you smile, you make my day brighter. Your eyes find mine and I want to giggle. I haven't giggled since I was a child, Helga. But you make me want to giggle again because there's too much happiness in my soul to keep it hidden away."
Helga licked at the finger keeping her words hostage, nuzzling the wet digit against her warm cheek. "You deserve to be happy."
"I don't think that I am meant to be, though. I've tried to read my cards lately but... it frightens me to do so. I can feel the sadness of my future when my hands hover over the cards." She reached down to smooth a hand over Helga's braids. "Would you do something for me?"
"Anything," the girl whispered.
"Would you undo your hair? I've wanted to see it all for ever so long. You always wear it up."
The words were hardly out of her mouth before Helga was struggling to sit up, her hands at the pins that were keeping it all in place. In no time at all, the auburn tresses were flowing down over the flour-dusted pinafore. Suddenly, Helga seemed to become conscious that her clothes were nothing like those that Rowena wore. "This will not do at all. I'm a mess."
Before she could pull back her hair and run from the room, Rowena captured her hands in both her own. "That is something I can help you with."
"I will not have charity." The words were said in a strange, fierce voice, accompanied by brightly coloured cheeks and an icy gaze. It was a change worthy of the strong backbone that Rowena had always assumed was hidden beneath the kind words and happy expression.
"You misunderstand me, Helga. I don't want to dress you up." Rowena tugged at one of the ties in the back of the garment. "I want to undress you. When we are both without clothes, neither will be able to judge the other."
"You do not have to flatter me to make me want to lay with you." But the ice was thawing in her eyes. She lifted her hair so that Rowena could do a better job of undoing the ties. When all were undone, Helga turned her head to look at Rowena again. "Since the first moment I saw you, I felt as if we belonged together. As if we share a bond. Do not fear your future for I will always be there for you."
The flush that coloured Rowena's cheeks continued until her belly was aflame with desire. "Now who has the pretty words," she murmured as she leaned forward, her lips touching the other girl's in the softest caress. She wasn't sure what to do from here but Helga took over, pivoting around so that she was astride Rowena's lap. This time, their lips met with a much fiercer clash. Tongues waged a battle, fingers quested and fought to gain access to skin still covered with clothing, breath mingled. When they finally pulled apart for the first time, Rowena could only pant as her lungs struggled to pull in air once more.
They finished undressing so that their next kiss melded not just their lips but their skin. Rowena pulled Helga's hips against her own, moaning as she felt the heat radiating from the girl's core. She traced a pattern over hips and thighs that she longed to trace with her lips when she'd had her fill of the girl's kisses. One hand became tangled in a long strand of Helga's hair and her attention was all drawn to the silky strands once again.
Her desire continued to increase until she was conscious only of Helga's fingers kneading her breast. Capturing them, she drew them down her body until they were at the entrance to her throbbing core. "Touch me," she whispered, remembering what her daydreams had been like lately. She'd been pretending her own fingers were really Helga's since she'd first seen the girl but that didn't even begin to compare to the real thing touching her now.
She pushed Helga down onto the bed, supporting herself on trembling arms as she rode the questing fingers. Her back arched as she struggled to find the exact place where ecstasy and agony coexisted together. When her throat was raw from screaming and every muscle in her body quivered, she lay in the protection of Helga's arms and tried to remember how to breath.
"I must get back to the kitchens. The food must be up to your mother's satisfaction," Helga murmured, trying to extract herself from Rowena's sprawled body.
"You aren't going anywhere until I've given you the same satisfaction you've given me. I care not what the food tastes like tomorrow. Your helpers can make everything for all I care. I want you beside me this day, of all days. Would you deny me this on request?" She finished her plea with a swirl of her tongue around one of Helga's puckered nipples. As she had hoped, Helga was loathe to deny her anything.
With an ease she certainly didn't feel, she began exploring Helga's body with her tongue and hands. When she finally arrived at the nest of fiery red curls that matched the rest of the hair on Helga's body, she smiled and glanced up at her friend. "Would you like me to stop?" she asked as she placed a chaste kiss on the sensitive skin of her upper thigh. "You have all those duties to perform-"
Helga's answer was to knot her hands in Rowena's hair and push her back towards her weeping core. Rowena had found her perfect happiness at last. This girl truly was the other half of her aching heart. Her life was complete.
***
Her magic was not enough for Heldincourt. On the fourth noon of their married life, when all the family and well-wishers had gone back to their lives, he finally laid out his demands. A steady stream of magic to keep his home lavish and acceptable for any guests he might want to invite over for a random feast, ensuring his place in society. Amulets to ensure that he would be the greatest hunter in any group he went out with so that he was thought well of and looked upon with envy. Spells to keep him randy as a goat to fulfill all the women he would continue to keep in his life. And an heir.
She was prepared for the first three demands, had been helping with the first since she'd agreed to what she'd thought would be a sham of a marriage. The woman she had assumed was his grandmother had been the last witch he'd made a bargain with to make his life as perfect as possible. He'd sapped her of all her strength and magic, leaving her a husk of a woman who had literally crumbled to dust at the end of her life. After he'd used her up, he went looking for something better than just an average witch. He wanted the best.
As Heldincourt told the story, Rowena's revulsion for him grew as she realized just what trap she suddenly found herself in. Even if this man didn't have much of a handle over his own magic, never being taught how to use it properly, he did have a physical prowess that made him dangerous.
"If I die, witch," he held her chin up with one of his huge fingers, "then everything you love dies."
"My parents can-"
"Not your parents. I care nothing for them. Nor, do I suppose, do you." His laughter froze her blood to ice in her veins. She tried not to shiver as his hand moved from her chin to clasp her throat. "Don't think I didn't notice those looks you spent the last few months giving that kitchen wench. You thought you could have both milk and cream. I don't mind but we will have one thing straight between us. You will come to me when I ask and you will conceive an heir within the year or she will lose a hand. I will do it with this blade in this room while you watch her blood drip on the carpet. Her screams will wipe away any memories you have of her passionate moans."
When she didn't protest, he pressed his thumb into the hollow of her throat until she had to step back or lose her ability to speak. Bile rose up her throat and she only just succeeded in swallowing it back down again. She was too busy trying to figure out how her secret had been leaked to question his edicts. It didn't every occur to her to question if he would do as he'd promised.
It was only later, as she lay shivering in the bed that she had been so apathetic about only a few hours ago, that she wondered what he had in place if he died. Were there spells that would activate if she were to pick her wand up and curse him? Could she harm him physically without repercussions? As her own blood pooled from between the battered and bruised place between her legs, she felt her resolve crystallize. Whatever it took, she would figure out how to free herself from this bondage that she had so thoughtlessly placed herself in.
Part 2: Rowena, a wife
When you're young you have this image of your life:
That you'll be scrupulous and one day even make a wife.
And you make boundaries you'd never dream to cross,
And if you happen to, you wake completely lost.
She started every morning with a walk through the gardens to the small piles of stone that marked the entrance to the woods beyond. There were two markers but there would be three within the week. Nothing she had been able to concoct had put color into the pale cheeks of Grayson and his cough had gotten more pronounced over the last few days. The wet season had just begun. There was nothing she could do to keep her small child from the inevitable lung infection that would claim his life.
The only tears she had ever wept have been in this place and only when she'd not been accompanied by anyone else. As far as everyone else thought, she was beyond such emotions that came with the loss of a child. There had been whisperings about her in the Muggle village nearby, many believing that she was a witch come to kill them all. The fields in the area hadn't produced nearly as much since she'd come to live at the Heldincourt residence. Many of the villagers had fallen sick and died. No matter that the rain hadn't stopped falling or that many of the farmers had been trying to grow crops from tired land that was in need of a year's rest. They lay the whole fault at her feet and she had let them because she no longer cared about her life.
A witch she may have been but she was also a grieving mother and a terrified wife. Each afternoon was spent ensuring that all her spells were working properly before moving on to new recipes for different salves to take away the stain of last night's bruising. As soon as it had become apparant that Grayson would not live to see his first birthday, Heldincourt vowed to plant his seed more firmly in his wife this next time.
"A fine, strapping son this time, witch. No more of your conjuring up potions to drink that will make my children weaklings."
"Yes, my husband." The fire had long since gone out of her words. She had barely enough strength to keep the fires of her rancor burning in her chest without wasting it on sarcasm that Heldincourt wouldn't recognize.
As she stared at the two mounds, she thought of the children they sheltered. The first had been a little girl. She had been as full of life as her mother, with bouncing dark curls and a look in her eye that boded ill for any one who got in her way. It had been obvious right away that this was a child who would be able to handle herself when her father was around, Rowena had decided and been glad of it. She spent her days knitting little outfits fit for a princess, telling her cooing daughter all the lore she could think of even if she was barely able to hold her head up.
Rowena made the mistake of warning her husband to hold the child gently one afternoon in the garden. "You favour this child," he thundered, in a sudden rage. "You meant to have a girl-child just to show the world that you are greater than I am. I know you, witch. I understand what goes on in that mind of yours."
With a great shout, he threw the small child onto the rocks outlining the path. Nothing Rowena could think of would stop the bleeding or return the heartbeat into the small chest.
Heldincourt demanded a boy this time. Two children died in her belly from the harsh treatment she began to receive at his hand but he didn't care. In his mind, he was convinced those had been girls that she had been carrying in direct retaliation of his orders. Losing them was her punishment for trying to outsmart him.
The second mound had been the much-waited for male heir. He stopped breathing almost as soon as he was named. Try as she might, Rowena was not able to convince her husband that her magic had nothing to do with it.
While she was carrying Grayson, Heldincourt had her locked away in a dungeon with only bread and water to sustain her. None of her books or her wand were allowed in her prison with her. "You won't be able to kill this one. I've outwitted you, at last." But nothing he did could ensure that his seed would spring true. Rowena had only just recently realized that the last witch to suffer under his threats had put a curse on him with her dying breath so that no Heldincourt heir would ever live to maturity. That, along with Rowena's ire for her husband, would kill every male child she would ever produce.
As the tears leaked out of her eyes, Rowena wondered what death might feel like. Certainly it would be far better than this life she lived now.
***
Helga seldom visited for she bore a scar on her right hip from the last time they thought they might have some time together. Heldincourt had come home unexpectantly, catching them huddled together in front of the kitchen fire. They had been doing nothing but catching up on each other's lives and sharing a warm loaf of bread that Helga had made especially for her friend, but he had seen what he wanted to see. The only thing that had saved Helga from a more severe beating was Rowena's quick thinking. She grabbed a knife and held it to her own throat.
"If she is harmed, you will be left with nothing for I'll spill my own blood just as quickly as you like to." Her threat had worked on both of them for Helga dared not come back for fear that Rowena would harm herself to keep Helga safe.
On the day that new baby's life quickened within Rowena's belly, Helga sent a letter. I have found a solution to all your problems. His name is Salazar and he thinks he can help. Pray find a way to meet me on Diagon Alley on 15 February for I want you to meet him. I've already told him of your plight, dear friend. Be assured that I am here for you. Always.
A tiny spark of hope sprung up in her chest. To have news from her friend on the same day as she discovered that she was carrying a baby girl was almost too much joy for her to comprehend. If there was a way out of this life before this baby came to the attention of her husband, perhaps this life would be able to grow and thrive.
The fifteenth was not far away but there was much for Rowena to do to ensure that she would be able to leave. She hadn't wandered far from the grounds for many years but it was possible for her to do so. Heldincourt hadn't wanted it to seem as if she was being kept prisoner, after all. As long as he was assured that his property and person were safe from harm, he was more than happy to let her wander wherever she might like.
She dressed with care on that cold morning. While she was interested to meet this man that Helga claimed could help her, she was more eager to see her friend again. Love felt like a foreign concept to her these days but there was a still a glow in her heart when she thought of Helga. Excitement coloured her cheeks but her hands were steady as she reached for her wand, caressing it with a slim finger before clutching it tight. Before Heldincourt could come in and demand to know where she was going, she Apparated to Diagon Alley.
There were still not many houses on the street, although there was more life here than there had been the last time she'd been here. Helga had enjoyed shopping at the few shops that had been open but had preferred the courser establishments, having been raised in a small farming community in Wales. The little time she'd spent with the Ravenclaws had done little to endure her to the higher levels of society that could be found in the wizarding society which was why she had enjoyed the commonness of Diagon Alley. There was a small pub at the edges of the settlement that she had approved of on those early outings. It was here that Rowena all but ran, keeping her head down for fear of someone recognizing her. There was really very few people who might pick her out as the Ravenclaw daughter, as she'd never been much for society herself before her marriage. Then, just as now, her saving grace had been her books.
Thankfully, Helga was waiting for her just outside the door to the tavern. She was instantly enveloped in her friend's arms, surrounded by the smell of risen yeast and melted butter that always accompanied her. As Rowena laid her head on Helga's comforting shoulder, she couldn't hold back the sob from the back of her throat. For several minutes, they stood, wrapped together, as Rowena fought to get her emotions back into check once again. Not a tear had fallen from her eyes so that, when she finally composed herself, her face was just as serene as ever to anyone who hadn't witnessed the previous scene.
"I was concerned you wouldn't make it."
Even the tiniest bit of concern nearly brought Rowena to the edge once again. She smiled, clutching at Helga's hand as if she needed to be tethered to the earth. "I wouldn't have missed this for anything. I should have tried harder to come to you before this. We've been apart too long."
"No, I don't want you endangering yourself and, by Ptolemy, are you with child again? You are, aren't you? I can see it in your face and now... I can feel her magic twined with yours." There was both fear and happiness in Helga's eyes as she reached out to embrace Rowena yet again. "She's strong. So much stronger than the others."
"She was born of my desperation."
Helga let her move away but continued to hold tightly onto her friend's upper arms. "And we're going to get your free. Salazar has spent hours researching this. I know he'll have the answer."
It made Rowena's face flush to think that someone else was privy to her predicament. It was bad enough that her pride pricked to know that Helga was seeing her at her very worst. This was something she should have been able to fight her way out of alone. "I... I don't know what to say."
"Just say that you'll give him a chance. He's a bit... well, he's not sane. Not the way that most people decide is sane, at least. But he's ever so competent. You'll see what I mean when you meet him. Oh, and Godric came along as well. I should have warned you about him but please remember that he's a very good man on the inside. Where it counts."
With Helga's warnings ringing in her ears, she let her friend lead her into the quiet room. For a dreary winter's day, it was nearly empty. As Helga slashed her wand at the door, Rowena realized that the whole place was under a spell so that they would be alone. For a strange, disjointed moment, Rowena wondered what she had missed of Helga's life all these years. Waves of jealousy were pushing at her, threatening to drag her away on a tide of possessiveness for a woman who had every right to go on living while she herself had all but curled up and hidden away.
A hearty greeting rocked the timbers of the room, sending motes of dust floating down from the rafters. Even though Helga was pulling her forward, Rowena dug in her heels so that the two of them came to an abrupt halt. A giant of a man stood in the middle of the room. His great beard and long hair were deep brown in colour but that was the only difference between him and her husband. It didn't matter that this man had a smile on his face or kindness radiating from his eyes. All she saw was the brute of a man she was forced to spend her life in servitude toward.
"That's Godric. Godric Gryffindor." Helga was trying to get her moving forward again but Rowena was having none of it. She had not come here to be trapped yet again. Her wand was up, ready to defend herself against an onslaught before she even realized what was happening. The deadly actions she had worked so hard to keep hidden in her daily life hadn't been completely eradicated, only hidden away for when she could use them once again. "Sit down. You're scaring her. I told you to wait until you were introduced, you great brute. Do something, Salazar. Don't just sit there, grinning like a lynx."
There was a scuffle of movement and sense of weightlessness. Without realizing that she'd moved or been moved, Rowena was in a comfortable chair in front of a roaring fire. The delightful scent of yeast told her that Helga was nearby but she had no desire to turn her head to look for her. A sense of calm had infused through her veins. Surely it was a spell, she reasoned with herself, but she didn't care any longer. She as warm and cared for and little else mattered.
"Okay, give me back my friend from where you've taken her. Yes, that's better. How do you feel, Rowena?"
"Better. Thank you."
Helga settled down at Rowena's feet, her hands resting on Rowena's lap. There was a hesitant movement to the side that had her frowning. She indicated the man pulling a chair closer to the flames with her chin. "That's Godric. He's really very kind even if he is frightfully large. But he doesn't use his size or his strength to hurt people."
"Nor will I ever," the man interjected with a deep voice that would have made Rowena start to quiver again if it wasn't for a continued calming influence. Instead, she was able to see the humor in the man's shy smile. The truth of Helga's words were clear enough now that Rowena wouldn't have pulled her wand on him again even if she hadn't been mentally tied down. "I would like to be your friend, Miss Rowena. If you'll allow it, that is. I won't take it personally if you don't want to. Miss Helga's told us a bit of your story. A right bugger you've found yourself married to."
"Stop talking," Helga commanded as tears began to fill Rowena's eyes. "Don't you remember me telling you to stop talking? I gave you three specific directions and you've now failed at two of them. Should I expect that you'll be breaking furniture next?"
"Leave him be," came a quiet hissing from the other side of the fire. A man sat there, as quiet and still as a cat watching a playing mouse. Long, silver hair gleamed in the firelight. That and the lined face of the man gave the illusion that he was old but Rowena doubted that he was actually as old as he seemed. His wand was settled on his lap as if it wasn't in use but Rowena could suddenly feel the pull of magic from him. He was the one responsible for the spell.
She had to concentrate to get the right words out. "You must be Salazar. Please unbind me. I'll behave."
With a nod from Helga, he did as she asked. As soon as the spell dropped, she reached out to hold Helga's hands as a way of keeping herself balanced. "That was impressive. I've never been held under any sort of spell for that long. I had a nurse when I was younger that tried but she never succeeded for more than a few seconds. May I ask what spell you used?"
"Not one you'll ever find in any books. At least not one that's ever been written. I'm currently working on a book of my own design but that is getting ahead of myself in the conversation. Might I inquire why you didn't simply break out of the spell?"
"Because... because I couldn't."
Salazar shook his head, "No, you simply did not. At any time, you could have brushed it aside as simply as you did the nurse's spell when you were a child. You seem to have forgotten how strong you truly are."
"I'm not-"
"You are one of the strongest witches I've come into contact with. Even Helga, who is also quite extraordinary, cannot hold a candle to you. Even without the help of your child, you would be able to best most magic."
"But not all." She surveyed the three faces in front of her. Two people had figured out that she was once again with child. That meant that soon Heldincourt would be able to figure it out for himself. They had scant time to work this out if she was going to be able to save her child. "Helga has told you my story so you know of the spell that binds me to my husband. Part of it is done in blood and part of it is done in death. Neither of which I am familiar with."
All three of them smiled but it was Helga who answered. "That is why I know we can defeat him now. Godric is the best duelist I have ever seen. He's taken on much stronger spells than any that are wrapped around you. And Salazar understands the darker magic in a way that no one else ever has."
"Except the Endoric Witches but they're all dead now."
"Yes, well, that's neither here nor there. But we can help you, Ro. We have the abilities to overturn anything that bastard throws at us. He won't be able to hurt you or your baby. Not ever again."
She was willing to let them try with one exception. "I want my parents protected. I've already brought enough grief to my family. I'll have no more brought to them to bear because of my actions."
***
They had nothing to fear for her parents. Three days after their first meeting, the Ravenclaws were traveling by carriage to their home on the coast. A wind storm swept a tree into their path. The horses bolted and before anyone thought to get out their wands, the coachman, the footman and the two passengers were broken and bloody at the bottom of a ravine.
As soon as Rowena received the news, she packed her bags with the essentials she had already decided to take with her on this flight. There was no time for tears. Not yet. When she arrived at Helga's doorstep, she sent a message to Salazar and Godric.
It has begun. There are no other impediments in the way of our plan. Meet us tonight.
***
The Manor was in flames but no one was doing anything to put them out. It had been frightfully easy to undo the spell that Heldincourt had cast over Rowena once they understood the basic structure. Salazar moaned over the poor construction which is what had baffled them at first.
"No one knows how to cast a decent spell anymore. We've raised countless generations of lax witches and wizards. 'Tis a pity."
Godric clapped the man on the back, his soot-covered face solemn. It was so odd to see him without a smile that Rowena felt like frowning herself. "We should do something about that. We've two of the most talented witches and, I'll dare say, the two best wizards alive right here. Seems to me that we could do more than most people could if we stuck together."
"Not again, Godric. I don't want to teach anyone anything right now. I just want a warm cup of tea." But there was a smile on Salazar's lips.
Rowena leaned into Helga, letting herself be wrapped in a warm embrace. She had lost nothing tonight. As the flames traveled up toward the icy blue Storm Moon, Rowena didn't feel at all sad about what she had witnessed tonight. The man she had been wedded to had been a monster. The more she had talked to Salazar, the more she realized that Heldincourt had kept her from something very precious - he had made her forget just how strong she was. Not just as a witch but as a woman. No one would ever do that to her again.
Part 3: Rowena, a woman
And we will only need each other, we'll bleed together,
these hands will not be taught to hold another's
'cause we're the special two.
And we could only see each other, we'll breathe together
These arms will not be taught to need another,
'cause we're the special two.
"It's beautiful, Helga." Rowena held the curve of silver up to the light so she could see the diamonds sparkle. Even with flour motes flying through the air from the busy kitchen in the room beyond, there was enough natural light in the room that she could see what an artistic masterpiece she was holding in her hands. "Wherever did you find anything so divine?"
Helga dropped to sit at Rowena's feet, resting her ear against the woman's round belly to listen to the baby for a moment before lifting her head with a smile. "I will admit to you now that this isn't just from me. It's from Godric and Salazar, as well. You're the only one who... who doesn't have an heirloom to put on display at the school."
It took a moment for Rowena to flutter her eyelashes enough to keep the tears at bay. She could have blamed it on the extreme emotional shift she was having this pregnancy but she knew it was because she still felt a pang of sorrow every time she realized that she had lost most every single Ravenclaw artifact. There had been a magical recoil the night that Heldincourt was destroyed, one that would have surely destroyed her parents if they had still lived. Salazar had assured her that there was nothing she could have done to prevent it but the loss of life amoung the servants still stung. The glorious library that that decades of Ravenclaws had added to had become nothing more than ash.
As if following her train of thought, Helga picked up the hand that wasn't holding the diadem and laced their fingers together. "You'll have that library again, dearest. It's going to be bigger than anything your father or grandfather ever dreamed about. You'll see. This is the right thing to do."
It was all a bit much to think about at the moment. She'd gone along with Godric's plans for a school because it had helped her to think about something other than what sort of shambles her life was in. There were only two bright points - Helga and the little girl that was becoming more persistant in announcing her plans on joining them soon. Everything else was pale and watery and not that important.
She did try, though. Godric had left some of the designs of the castle up to her discretion but she hadn't done much more than scribble ideas down on the papers he'd left with her. When the school was discussed, she tried to join in but it always felt as if she was just smiling and nodding along with everything that anyone said.
"I know," she whispered. "We'll be doing good thing by teaching these people to actually use their magic instead of relying on family mythology handed down through the generations. It's a good thing."
As always, Helga cut right to the heart of the matter. "But you don't think they all deserve it."
"What if he had been taught to truly use his magic? What sort of condition would our country be in? He would have taken hold of every bit of power he came into contact with and more would have suffered. More than just...." She couldn't finish the thought. As they always did when she started to talk about the horrors of this possibility, her words clogged in her throat. Helga was the only one who knew the terrors that woke her in the middle of the night, the screams that tore out of her soul before she could contain them.
"That's part of the reason we need to do this. Power that is shared becomes less of a thing to be longed for. That is what we'll teach them. That's why there are four of us. We all have special skills so that we can attain great things. Alone, we wouldn't be nearly as powerful. Not a single one of us can take power from the others without losing something vital."
Even though Rowena nodded, she wasn't completely sure she agreed. Vows and promises weren't something she would be able to trust for a long while, no matter who was saying the words.
***
Her throat felt raw from all the screaming. No matter that the midwife told her that this pain was to be expected or that Helga assured her that everything was going just as it aught, Rowena knew that something wasn't right. She hadn't been like this for any of the other births. There was a rending of her soul, as if the baby was intent on taking a part of her when she left the womb. Each contraction of her muscles was a threat to her completeness.
"You're doing fine, Rowena. She's almost here. Almost here. Just keep pushing."
But I don't want to push. She's going to rip me in half. But what would Helga say if she were to actually articulate those words? The only other option was to kill the baby. But, no. That wasn't an option. She wasn't Heldincourt. She would never harm another living being as he had. No matter what happened, she would care for this baby with every ounce of her power.
"I'm your mumma," she whispered to the infant the mid-wife lay on her chest. Every part of her body ached with the effort of the birth but it was the emptiness inside that worried her more than anything. There would be time to worry about that later. Now she had a child to take care of, to nourish and raise with love and light. "Oh, my darling. Mumma is here. Nothing will ever hurt you again."
The mid-wife cast a cleaning spell on mother, baby and room before leaving as quietly as she had entered hours before. As if sensing the loss of a spectator, the baby began to fret. Even with the two women trying to comfort her with touch, she couldn't be satisfied.
"I know I shouldn't laugh but she's so cute when she screws her face up like that. Such an adorable baby, even only a few minutes after her birth. What will you call her?" Helga had been biding her time for weeks, holding back her question when the suspense had clearly been driving her batty. Even though Rowena hadn't meant to keep it a secret, she wasn't sure exactly what she wanted to name the baby.
As she looked up into the shining eyes of her love, she now knew exactly what she wanted to call her daughter. There was no way she could tell the world of her love for Helga Hufflepuff in any other way, for even though they shared a house, they were merely a widow and an eccentric baker to most everyone that cared look their way. But she was so much more than that to Rowena.
"Her name is Helena. Helena Ravenclaw."
Helga's quizzical expression immediately fell as she struggled with her composure. "You... you didn't have... have to."
"But I want to. You're the only thing that has kept me going these past months. No, even before that. If I'd been as wise as I profess to be, I would have taken you in my arms that day we met and walked out of my parent's house. I shouldn't have been so prideful. Look at where it landed me."
The baby stopped crying as she discovered the waiting breast, content to nuzzle at it for a moment before latching on. Helga smoothed a trembling hand over the small head covered with dark hair matted down by sweat and magic. "But if you hadn't, you wouldn't have this little darling."
And I would still have a complete soul. Rowena pushed that thought back down. Now was not the time to try to reason out what had happened here tonight or what this might mean for her. "True. We're very lucky to have her, you and I." She lifted a hand to smooth down the bit of hair that had come loose from Helga's clip, smiling sincerely at the woman who had done so much for her. Not only had she saved her from her husband and the life full of pain that the cards had foretold, but she had saved her heart as well. "And I am very lucky to have you. Very lucky, indeed."
"No. I'm the lucky one." Tears dripped down Helga's face. She moved her head so that Rowena's hand was cupping her cheek. "When we first met, you made me realize just how special I was. Seeing me through your eyes, I saw what kind of person I could be. All these years, I have strived to make your vision of me a reality. I've wanted to be a woman worthy of your love."
"But that's not what-"
Helga shook her head, pulling away from mother and baby. "We've become maudlin, you and I. You should rest. There is still much to do before you and Helena," her voice softened as she smoothed her hand over the baby's tiny hand that was clutching at Rowena's bare skin, "can settle down for the night. We will talk more in the morning."
It was impossible for Rowena to form words as she watched Helga walk from the room. For several moments, she struggled with her emotions, all but giving up on getting them to even out so she could think coherently. The only person around to hear her whispered words was Helena, and she didn't seem to care what was going on around her at the moment. "You have always been worthy of my love. It is I, dear heart, who had to become worthy of your love. Every day, I still struggle on but it is always you, holding me up, that keeps me going down the right road."
***
The last time Rowena saw the ginger-haired witch, all she could do was smile. Each breath was a struggle but she never took her eyes off Helga's face. Love for this woman made her heart sing even as it struggled to keep beating. A few more minutes. All she wanted was a few more minutes with Helga and she would go peacefully.
"Why didn't you tell me when you first discovered there was something wrong? We could have done something then."
"What... would you have... done?" Rowena asked even though she didn't want the answer.
If she could have kept this secret from Helga forever, she would have. If only she hadn't followed through with Salazar's plan to find Helena, her daughter might still be alive. Rowena had been sick but it hadn't been so bad that the Baron needed to find Helena and bring her back. No matter the coughing fits, Rowena might have lived for years longer, even if the men thought she was near death. Any sickness scared them. They were worriers, not like Helga who faced every adversity with a smile and the subtle lifting of her chin. Even so, she hadn't wanted to tell Helga that utilizing Helena's magic, while she was in the womb, had bound the two women together far stronger than the normal mother/daughter bond. They shared a soul and the death of one of them had endangered the other.
"I would have found a way to protect you." Helga's voice was high-pitched, a sure sign she was under distress. In that moment, if it was psosible, Rowena loved her more. "We could have figured out a way to separate the two of you. We could have spared you from all of this. There must have been a potion or something we could have found that would have helped your lung disease. You never even gave me a chance."
"Love, you... couldn't have helped... me."
"I could have tried." Tears were running down her cheeks now, dripping on the hand she was holding to her lips. "You never gave me a chance."
Nothing would have worked. In her heart, Rowena saw the last twenty-five years as a gift. She knew that Godric would make up some cockamamy story for the history books so that her death would seem romantic but the plain truth was that she should have died the moment she gave birth to Helena. Any more time than that was a gift, plain and simple.
She moved her fingers slightly, a caress against her lover's lips. It was all she could do even though she would have rather pulled Helga down for a kiss. As if hearing her thoughts, Helga leaned down and touched her lips gently to Rowena's. It was nothing compared to the passionate kisses they'd shared in the past. No, this was better. This was a gesture as full of love as any they had shared.
"She... took my... soul but you... have always had... my heart."
The last sound Rowena heard was her friend trying to stifle a sob. She wanted to tell her that there was more for her to do in this life than to mourn her, that there was still so much for her to accomplish. The children needed her. All of the children. Those that were magical and those that weren't. In the last minutes of her life, Rowena was finally able to see what Helga had been saying for all these years. She just wished she had enough energy to tell her what she now saw with great clarity.
Instead, she smiled as her eyes drifted shut. She had lived a good life, no matter what the cards had predicted for her. No matter the horrors she had witnessed and experienced, she wouldn't have changed it for anything. Her life choices had brought her both Helga and Helena. They had been her life and, for that, she was thankful.