Soon All the Suns Will Rise

Love You Like Never Before

Chapter title from "Songbird" by Fleetwood Mac.

This chapter wasn't originally planned, but I happened upon a bottle of wine called "Songbird" that reminded me I had not used this beautiful Fleetwood Mac song yet in this series. Which was crazy, right?  I mean, birds? But clearly it was because the song was saving itself for this chapter. 🕊 (at least the romantic part, anyway).

*Smut Warning, second half- breath play
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Rhiannon nestled Delphi into a bassinet and checked on Teddy, who was fast asleep in his wooden cradle. She was fortunate Andromeda had both. Rhiannon hadn't been sure where else to go after she had left Malfoy Manor, with the secrecy of their own home having been compromised.

After a brief check on Ben, who was sound asleep and curled up with Beedle, Rhiannon made her way to the spare room Andromeda had prepared for her. She closed the wispy curtains and enchanted them so the room was completely dark. She didn't want to see the sun. Ever again.

Breaking Delphi free had been easy enough. The young maid Lucius had hired from Knockturn Alley had little interest in anything but the funds he was paying her, and she was more than happy to have time added back to her day. Rhiannon had thought briefly of the nursemaids in the Rhiannon myth — so terrified at letting the goddess's baby be kidnapped they they'd framed her for infanticide. While the maid didn't seem to be a factor here, Rhiannon truly had no idea how she would handle Bellatrix's rage. She hadn't thought that far ahead; she'd acted on instinct and on the helplessness she'd felt when her father had announced Severus's death by his hand.

Just a few hours after her arrival, Arthur Weasley had arrived to bring Andromeda the tragic news of Remus's and Tonks's passing, and Rhiannon's grief was suddenly fresh and raw. Her family was unraveling. She was pregnant, and now she had Delphi. Her husband was gone— her soulmate, her teacher— and Rhiannon felt like her own soul had been ripped open. Normally when she felt this desperate and confused she reached out to Severus for answers, whether while laying in his arms, or using their bond if relegated to silence in a Death Eater meeting. And Severus always had answers. He understood her; he knew what was good for her, even if she didn't always want to hear it. And now that instinct and impulsivity that was both a blessing and a curse was all she had, for Severus's logical warnings, plans, and analyses were forever beyond her reach.

She sobbed— curled into a ball on Andromeda's quilted guest bed and sobbed. Her shoulders shook and her lips quivered, and she thought she would choke on the sheer amount of tears. She'd cast a silencing charm on the door and warded it shut. While Andromeda was nice enough and Rhiannon was certainly thankful for having her help in smuggling her deranged sister's baby, she just wanted to be alone. The only person in the world who could make her feel better would never hold her again, never kiss away her tears, never chuckle and say, "Stop crying, you silly girl." Rhiannon was certain she'd give anything in the world to hear that deep, sharp baritone scold her again. She would swear to be good and obedient if that meant she could bring him back. She'd swear to bratty, if that's what he wanted, so he could take his pleasure in punishing her. Anything...anything he wanted...

Her throat was dry from the strain of crying, and her chest was sore. She hated to admit it, but she felt her stomach cramp as well. As soon as she felt that dull ache, she tried her best to force the tears to stop. Severus had insisted she do what was best for their child, the child he'd been hinting at for nearly a year, the part of him that would live on if the war were to take him.

Sleep, she thought. I must sleep. For the baby.

Rhiannon thought briefly of Sirius and Colleen as she hovered in that half-dream state before slipping into full sleep. They loved her, of course, and she loved them. But without Severus it would never be the same. They were four parts of a circle, and a missing part would result in one encountering dead ends whenever one tried to feel complete. Rhiannon was open-minded and understanding of all relationships, and she knew many were content and happy in threesomes. But it wouldn't work for them. Their happiness, their magic— it depended on the energy of all four. It had been built by the melding of two bonded pairs. It hadn't had a prayer of working before Colleen, and it would fizzle and die after Severus. Rhiannon was certain of it.