EXILE | TOM RIDDLE

14. The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes

My arms are wrapped around Salazar's waist within a moment, pulling him close to me and burying my head into his chest like I did so often as a child. Every inch of me aches, every little crevice of my being in agony as I allow myself to melt into him, breathing heavily as I try to cling onto the life that was so nearly sliced away from me.

"Do not cry, Little Bird," he says to me, his soothing voice echoing through my ears, and I find my brow furrowing together in confusion. Am I crying?

I am, I realize, tears streaming down my face and sobs wrecking through my body, a body that is still alive despite what Tom nearly did to me.

I cry harder, nails digging into his back as I hold him tight, as though he might slip away from me if I let go.

"I have been waiting for nearly a thousand years for your return, Little Bird," Salazar says, his hand finding a place atop my head, gently rubbing my hair. "I have missed you so much. So, so much."

"I have missed you too, Salazar," I murmur against his tunic, the wetness of my tears staining the fabric.

"I am so sorry," he continues as though I have said nothing, continuing to rub my hair. "I never should have got you involved, Rebekah. I am so sorry."

The usage of my real name has my eyes widening ever so slightly, a shock to my system that allows me to calm down enough to pull away, releasing him from the death grip I had around his waist and instead looking up to meet his eyes. Despite how significantly he has aged, his eyes remain the same. An icy blue, like a lake frozen over in the winter.

"I was not sure you would ever find me," he continues. "But I waited anyways. Waited, for a thousand years. For you."

"Why?"

His lips curve upwards ever so slightly. "You needn't worry about it. You are here now. That is what matters."

"Do not lie to me, Salazar," I insist, a spark of anger igniting in me. "You got me into this mess. You are the reason I went through time — I need to know why. I need to know. Please."

He inhales a deep, sharp breath. "There was a prophecy, that Bronwyn Hughes made. About a girl."

I blink, straining as I search my mind for any recollection of that name, eventually coming up blank. "Bronwyn? Who is Bronwyn?"

He shakes his head, his eyes filled with an uncharacteristic sadness, unlike anything I have ever seen upon him before. "No one you need worry about, Little Bird. She is long dead."

I bite down on my tongue, resisting the urge to inquire more about this girl, a girl who seems to be causing Salazar more pain than anything should. Instead, I ask, "Was the prophecy about me?"

"I believe so, yes," he nods, reaching over to stroke my hair once again. "It was so long ago, I do not remember exactly how it went. But...it said you would aid in leading to the destruction of muggles, and the muggleborn world as it is known today."

A silence ensues, a long, painful silence in which I have not a clue how to react, what to say or do or think. All I can focus on is the awful ringing in my ears.

"How?" Is all I can manage, letting out a breath gasp. "How could I do such things? I would never, Salazar, I would never."

He says nothing, simply continuing to stroke my hair like a father might to their crying child. After several long moments, his lips part, making way for words to spill, but before he can say anything, a groan emits from behind me.

"Tom..." I mutter, turning around to watch as he pathetically pushes himself up onto his feet. It is evident he is barely conscious, using every ounce of strength he has to fight off whatever curse Salazar struck him with, and keep himself upright. Next to him, on the ground with the bones is his knife, though he makes no attempt to go for it, as he wobbles towards the pair of us, fire in his expression. Though when his gaze meets Salazar's, he falters ever so slightly, eyes growing wide.