And the visitors made up a rather large group. They were priestesses, and their followers. The entourage from Avalon was there, as well as the Norse worshippers. As a novice, Nimue uncomplainingly did her duty of seeing the guests to rooms and making sure that they were comfortable. Offering lightweight linens in place of the heavier wools and furs that the visitors had traveled in. But she only went through the motions on the outside, on the inside her mind was humming. She knew that she wasn’t imagining the looks that the foreigners gave her. She could feel their eyes following her. And she didn’t like it.
As soon as she was able, she rushed away to the quiet spot on the beach that she had claimed as her own. It wasn’t visible from the temple or from Cadmus’ camp, but somehow Aias was always able to find her when she retreated there. Within moments of her arrival he was visible coming down the path towards her. She was usually thankful for his company. He had offered valuable company and advice. And he kept her secrets, especially the secret of what she had been practicing ever since she had heard about the attack on her mother.
She wanted to be prepared. And Aias had helped her when Kalliope and Remus wouldn’t. She owed him a great debt, and she would sincerely miss him when she left Greece. And there was no doubt in her mind that she would leave Greece, and sooner rather than later. She was just waiting for the right time.
“Nimue,” Aias greeted her with a slight dip of his head as he stopped a few paces from her.
“Aias,” Nimue tried to offer him a brave smile, but it faltered. “They are here because of me, I just can’t figure out what it is they want with me…”
“The mind of a priestess is often shrouded in mystery,” Aias offered. “As a healer, I have noticed that many do not seek my aid until they are nearly past the hope of recovering…”
“I don’t think your healing skills can help me Aias, but I thank you for the offer,” this time Nimue’s small smile was genuine. She knew that Aias would give her whatever aid he could. But it had reached the point where she had to stand on her own. “They will be wanting me…” She looked up the steep slope of the cliff where she could discern that the lights of the temple were being lit. “But it will only be a welcoming feast tonight, protocol states that no business will be done yet tonight…” she turned that thought over before deliberately sitting down in the sand that had begun to cool in the night air.
“I will stay to watch over you,” Aias crossed his legs as he sank to the ground. His short sword lay across his knees should he have need of it. But it was more of a symbolic gesture. Both of the beach’s lonely occupants knew that physically they were safe where they were. But it was likely to be a long night emotionally for the British born novice.
~~~~~~~~~~~~
Severus held the vial between the tips of his fingers. His red tinted fate was so easily assessable, a few drops to end a life that had been full of pain and self condemnation. He was no longer in a fit enough state of mind to recall the few memories of joy that he usually had to cling to. His wife was lost to him, and he had convinced himself that he had ruined any chance he had of reconciliation with his children. He was close to drowning in the dark madness of his soul. It had taken weeks, but Severus’ mind was now clear on one point. During his days as a Death Eater he had always been prepared for the fact that each day could be his last. Now he was determined that his end was now.
His hands shook slightly as he uncorked the fatal bottle. He passed one hand wearily over his eyes. Eyes that he would be content to close for the final time. To be away from the pain, and hurt, and agony, and…
“Daddy?”
Severus looked up in terror at the sound of that voice. If he had only had one single moment more…
“Daddy, would you read to me out of my book?” Olivia opened the door a bit wider. Behind her Dierna and Serena were frantically trying to figure out what to do through whispered consultation and hand signals. If they had realized Olivia’s intentions earlier they would have stopped her from walking straight into, what they were convinced was, the proverbial lion’s den.
Severus stared blankly at his youngest daughter, the vial still clutched in his hand.
“Or I could read to you,” Olivia offered as she ventured a few steps further into the room, “but I’ll need your help with some of the larger words. I can’t figure them all out by myself.” She shifted from one foot to the other uncertainly for a long moment when her father remained silent.
It had taken all the bravery the seven-year-old could muster to come in here on her own. She had even left Tristan, the one companion she had always depended on, behind. This was the first truly significant moment of her life that he had not been by her side. She had spent several moments crying with him in her room, and then, in a fit of maturity far beyond her few years, she had come to the conclusion that she could somehow make things right again. She at least knew that she had to die. Somehow, the child knew that she was on the verge of losing another set of parents.
She started to turn, nearly ready to admit defeat. She could see Serena and Dierna gesturing to her to join them through the still open door. But, she stopped. She was not able to understand her father’s recent behavior, but she did not like to see him so sad either. For, that was the only emotion she could name for what she had seen in him. She was too young to know how deeply Severus Snape’s self-loathing went.
She finished crossing the room and crawled up onto the bed so that she was sitting on the edge of it next to her father, the leather-bound book held securely in her lap. “What’s that?” she pointed to the vial, which she could just barely see, small as it was, clutched in Severus’ hand.
Severus looked from the vial, back to Olivia, and then back to the vial again. His mind felt oddly numb. Finally he spoke, his words slow, “that book looks awfully large for you.”
Olivia shrugged, “Serena helped me read the first part. I like it.” In the last months she had moved away from the picture-filled story books in her own room, to the length tomes that were on her parents’ neatly ordered shelves.
“Olivia, I…” if he could just order her from the room he could continue what he had started. He could still end his life.
“Here,” Olivia interrupted his thought process and tugged on his arm. “Sit against the pillows,” she used all her weight to get him to move so that he was seated against the headboard and quickly cuddled up next to him. “Would you like to read first?” She offered him the book.
Not knowing what else to do, Severus took the book from his daughter’s hand and opened it to the marked page. In his deep, true voice, he began to read, “The first part of their journey was performed in too melancholy a disposition to be otherwise than tedious and unpleasant. But as they drew towards the end of it, their interest in the appearance of a country which they were to inhabit overcame their dejection…”
The vial had fallen from the hand in Olivia’s struggle to get him situated to read to her. The contents spilled across the floor in a bloody fashion as Severus continued to read.
By the time he had finished the chapter Olivia had wormed her way under his arm so that she could see the book to follow along as he read. Halfway through chapter seven Serena and Dierna moved from standing in the doorway to crowding onto the bed. Dierna sat slightly off to herself, hugging her knees to her chest on the other side of Olivia. Serena leaned against her father’s left arm. They sat like that for hours, until one by one, the girls fell asleep, lying there together, a family for the first time in months.
Severus watched them as the candles burned down. Until a few hours ago he was convinced that his children were his only future. That he had nothing left to offer the world. He had never really understood his children. Their mother had showed them love at every turn, she had hugged them, dried tears, been genuinely interested in everything that they did. Yet the confounded creatures still came to him for comfort. At times in the past they had even come to him before their mother. He wasn’t an affectionate man. He did not hug his children. He allowed them to hug him without pushing them away. He might rest a hand on their shoulder. He allowed Olivia to climb all over him as his other children had done at that age, but he never encouraged them. And now… now of all times they were clinging to him. When he had most wanted to die, his children had come to him…
Carefully he slipped out from between them. He couldn’t bear to watch them anymore. Silently he made his way to his private lab. He was no longer sure if it was the haven it had once been. It was where he had tried and failed to find some way of saving his wife. It was where he had brewed the poison that was to have taken his life just a short time ago. It was where he had followed a passion. Now the cold grey stones seemed to mock him. They were as unwelcoming and hard as he could wish them to be, as he deserved for them to be. Olivia had stayed his hand tonight, but what of the next night? What of a fortnight from now? How much longer could he go on?
He turned at the sound of footsteps behind him, his reflexes still sharp and finely hone, wand drawn. He found himself face to face with Dierna. She hadn’t so much as flinched when he turned on her like that, she simply looked… tired. But it wasn’t from lack of sleep. She didn’t hold her shoulders back as proudly as she once had, dark circles under her eyes had become a permanent feature, and her hair had lost its luster. “Leave me,” he ordered in a quiet voice. It was a voice that was weary, tired of life.
“Dad,” Dierna’s voice was tired as she spoke to her father voluntarily for the first time in months, “we’re still here…” the red stain on the carpet hadn’t escaped her notice. And while Serena might not have realized what it was, she was certain that she knew. “Don’t abandon us.”
Her simple plea cut him more affectively than any knife could have. Severus looked away. Looked at the shelves lining the walls, they held many things, but not the answers he was looking for. But there was one answer, standing right in front of him. He had to live for his children. It was what Morgan would have wanted. It was his duty. He looked at Dierna, “Adelaide,” for once he used the name her mother had given her, not out of anger, but for Morgan, “I am sorry, it was not my intention to hurt you.” He looked away from her again, he was not accustomed to apologizing, and he never did so in such a direct manner. He was not going to watch while she turned away from him.
“Dad?” Dierna stepped closer to her father, putting a tentative hand on his arm, “Dad, are you ok?” When he didn’t turn to face her she walked around him. It was a memory that would never leave her for as long as she lived. Through the tears in her own eyes she could see that her father was crying. She was sure that it was an act that no other living person had witnessed, not even her mother.
And, in that moment of agony Severus was able to do something else that he had never done before. He reached out to another person for comfort. It was the first time he could remember truly welcoming an embrace from one of his children, and he held onto Dierna in return as though his life depended on it.
His life did depend on it. His children had saved him from death tonight, and they would for many nights to come. They sank to the floor together, finally finding release for their grief, and forgiveness for each other.
Severus, always a study at emotional control was the first to regain composure. He surprised himself over his lack of shame at showing such a moment of weakness in front of his daughter. But, it did not bother him as he would have thought.
“Here,” Severus gave Dierna a hand up from the floor. “You have no color in to you at all,” his voice was back to its normal neutrality. But, it was different somehow. As Dierna choked down the glass of brandy he poured for her she was able to honestly tell herself that they would all survive this trial. Somehow, the biggest hurdle had just been crossed.
“Dad, I…” Dierna sought for the right words, but wasn’t sure what one would say in such a situation.
“I would appreciate it if you did not mention details of this occurrence to your siblings.”
Dierna half smiled to herself, things were definitely starting to look better. “I won’t, but only if you promise me you won’t be brewing any more poisons.”
“I will not take orders from my daughter over what I will and will not brew in my lab, I am a potions master, and as such I have earned the right…”
“Please, promise me,” there was a light of determination in her green eyes that proclaimed she would not be pushed aside. “We’ve just been given the chance to be a family again, don’t ruin it.”
Severus sighed, “go to bed Dierna.”
“You haven’t promised yet.”
He nodded slowly, “you have my word.”
~~~~~~~~~~
Nimue shifted the weighty jar of wine from her left hand to her right as the sea breeze tugged her hair loose from its braids and whipped her white robes around her slim figure. The grey sky was ominous and thunder rumbled low in the distance as she traveled the path from the storehouse to the meeting hall where the senior priestess and their visitors were meeting. She was the only novice who was serving them today. The rest of the serves were priestesses. It was odd that the rest of the novices had been sent away.
She wished the visiting priestesses would leave. She wanted to discuss with Kalliope the prospect of leaving. She had a feeling her request would be refused, again. But this time Cadmus agreed that it was time for her to go home. He had also agreed to use whatever influence he had.
She nodded politely to the group of satyrs who had ventured up to the temple, and they, grinning, inclined their heads in return. She had a feeling that whatever it was that they were whispering together was anything but polite, but at least they didn’t say it loud enough for her to hear.
The warrior who stood at the entrance to the meeting hall pulled aside the heavy wool door covering so that she could enter. It took a good deal of focus and a few choked back tears to keep from coughing as she entered the incense filled hall. The priestesses were deep in discussion and barely acknowledged her as she passed between them to refill cups.
The High Priestess of Avalon was the first to respond to the girl’s presence. “She will be well off in Avalon,” she addressed the other priestesses, although she was watching Nimue, “it is in her homeland, after all. I would prefer that she performed the ritual there, but if you need her here for a bit longer her vows may initially be made here.”
Kalliope’s shoulders tensed as she sat up straighter, “I had not intended on sending her to Avalon so soon…” she was careful to keep her voice neutral.
“But she is already of an age to be made a priestess. And, her lineage is that of Avalon, not of your people. Ideally she will return with me when I leave here. I would see her as a priestess in a month’s time, and such promise as a seer…”
Nimue opened her mouth to protest being spoken about in such a manner, having her future planned out for her, but could find no words. How dare they speak of her as though she weren’t present! How dare they plan her future without her permission or input! They wanted her in Avalon now… they wanted her to be a seer. It was the farthest thing from what she wanted for herself. She cursed her ‘gift’ of the Sight. It had only ever brought pain to her. She wished it away from her with all of her being.
If she was going to be stuck with it for the rest of her life, she certainly wasn’t going to use it for others. She wouldn’t become a pawn in this game. She wanted to be her own person… The room started to spin around her as the conversation continued. Plans for her initiation as a priestess, debates over where she would be, Greece or Britain, the possibility of a political marriage… it went on and on and on… her breathing grew rough as she fought for balance. She managed to set the wine jar down before she spilled it.
“Let the girl speak for herself!” The command came from the far corner of the room. The strong voice brought Nimue back to the incense filled room and the priestesses who were now looking at her expectantly.
“I…” Nimue struggled to put into words what she felt.
“Speak child, your heart will guide you.”
She could see now that it was one of the women from the North. A tall and stately woman with dark hair who still wore her fur trimmed warrior’s outfit. Her sword left outside in respect of the conclave. Her voice was rich and smooth. Her bearing that of a queen. She could blend in or stand out at her own discretion. Her encouraging smile and warm eyes encouraged Nimue.
“I will not go to Avalon.”
“If it is your wish to remain here as a priestess, arrangements may be made,” Kalliope began, “our wish is for your happiness… and your safety...”
“If you were concerned for my happiness you would send me home!” Nimue drew herself up, “I will not play this game of yours anymore. I will not be a priestess. I will not be your seer.” She gazed around the room. It was a room full of women who looked as though they didn’t believe her. As though they new what was best for her and would see that she followed their orders, even if she didn’t want to. She could tell that Kalliope was thinking, but only the Norse woman, she recalled her name, Svafa, she was the only one who was nodding in agreement with what she said.
Nimue felt a rush of courage fill her as she squared her shoulders. “I will not be a priestess for you, because I am going home. Will you provide me with an escort?” she turned to Kalliope.
The High Priestess studied her carefully. The girl had grown up under her care. She was, in fact, older than she should be. “I made a promise to your parents, I always keep my word.”
Nimue noticed for the first time that it was not a direct refusal. She was being given a choice. The room erupted around her when she stated once again that she was leaving. No novice had the right to speak that way, to go against the wishes of her superiors. She reached inside of her trying to find a way to get what she wanted without implicating Kalliope in her plans. She thought of one option. She had tried it, practiced on her own. But never for a very great distance. There was no telling where she might end up, or even if all of her would end up there. But she had to try.
She took a deep breath and concentrated on relaxing. As she turned, the last thing she saw before she disapparated was Svafa’s triumphant look.
~~~~~~~~~~~~
