FIC: Rabe und Wolf, PG13 Title: Rabe und Wolf Author: Rosy Rated: PG13 Challenge: Fairy Tale Challenge Disclaimer: The Potterverse does not belong to me, and I do not make money off of it. More's the pity. Summary: There once was a puppet who wanted a heart Warnings: AU, somewhat dark Notes: ...this is what happens when you watch Princess Tutu, read too many Grimm’s Brothers and Hans Christian Anderson, and then find out there's a Fairy Tale Challenge going on at Lupin_Snape.
Once upon a time, there was a puppet who wanted to love.
Even if he didn't know it. For what could a puppet made of ebony and amber, even one enchanted by fae magic, know of love?
When the puppet master learned what the raven puppet had done, he was furious. "Deceitful wretch!" he screamed. "Do you know what you have done? He knew where the child is. The boy who is prophesied to cause my downfall! And you let one of his protectors escape!" The puppet master sent his greatest hunters out, to try to catch the trail of the man in furs. "They shall catch him before the day is out!" He said to the raven, "and then we will kill him and you together, for your betrayal!"
"Never! Never! Never!" the raven clacked, hopping along his perch. The puppet master had him chained to the arm of his grand throne in his palace. The puppet master's hunters searched three days and three nights. None of them were able to find the man in furs, and the raven never revealed that it was the silver wolf that escaped from the puppet master's dungeon. Surely, surely, none of them could find the sleek and silver wolf. But the greatest and most fierce of the puppet master's hunters, more beast than human, returned on the fourth day with a scrap of fur from the man's cloak.
"I have caught his trail, milord, and surely I shall catch him."
The puppet master smiled. "No. Take my best guards with you and follow him. He will lead you to the Potters, and you shall bring them here. Then I shall dispose of this child and all those who harbored him." He turned to look at the raven. "You have one last chance, puppet. Make the potion which will turn the Potters into my puppets, and I will forgive you. I shall give you what you wished for: a heart. A true heart." He held out the potion recipe to the raven.
The raven looked at the potion recipe, knowing that the puppet master had not the skill to brew it, nor did any of his followers. "Never! Never!" he cried, mantling violently against the leather strap tethering him to the throne.
The puppet master was furious. "Take him to the courtyard and bind him to the dead tree!" he screeched in his rage. "He shall watch as we perform the ritual to send the child into the netherworld, where he can never be reached, and then kill those who harbored him!" Though the raven struggled, two of the puppet master's servants carried him out to the courtyard and tied him to the craggy trunk of an apparently dead oak tree. The tree had once been massive, shading the whole courtyard. Now, it was skeletal and gray, with no leaves budding from it's twisted limbs. The two bound him tightly, so that even when he shifted in the moonlight, he would not be able to escape. For a while, the raven struggled, knowing that with each wasted moment, the Potters and the silver wolf had less time to live.
'Be calm and think!' he chided himself. 'Though you've no true heart, you've more a mind than that megaloniacle fool! Now think. How can you help the Potters and Remus escape?' He turned the problem over in his mind, and waited for an idea to come. Then, quite suddenly, an idea struck him. For in the quiet of the courtyard, he had heard a sound that no human could hear: the soft thrumming of the barren oak's life. The oak, though old and lumbering towards its true death, only slept like the very old. The raven, though a different shape, was still the heartwood of another tree, and so could still remember how to whisper in their private language.
'Father Oak! Father Oak! I am in need of your help!'
'Burrraaaarooom.... who is that whispering in my ear?' The sleepy old oak rumbled.
'I am the raven bound to your trunk, come to try and stop the puppet master. I need your help, Father Oak!'
'Hoooooraaaarrroom.... why should I care? One human falls... another will take his place. Humans measure time in hours and days. One life of a tree is thousands of the lives of men... why should I care if this puppet master falls or not? Another will come eventually... you should know this...'
The raven huffed. He was getting no where this way... 'Aren't you tired, Father Oak?'
"Mmmmmmyeeeeeeesss....' the grand old tree groaned, its limbs shuddering. 'I have grown in this place for many many years... and now I merely wait for the last, deep sleep to fade into the earth...'
'My plan will only hasten that end, old Father,' the raven whispered. 'You can sleep in the deep recesses of the earth, never to be bothered by the petty meanderings of men until the crack of doom.'
The old tree was silent for a long, long moment. "Brroooorarrrrrr.... yesss... do what you must... little raven... I ammmm too tired to argue....'
The raven would have leapt for joy, had he not been tied. The first part was done. Now for the harder thing to do. He reached down to the core of himself, seeking out the bit of magic always pulsing in the very core of him. He called to it, cajoled it, and whispered to it. Slowly, he felt it answer, spreading through his limbs and drawing out his transformation. He felt his legs dangling above the ground, and his arms wrapped back around the trunk. He took a breath, then coaxed it out beyond his skin, into the old, withered oak tree. Slowly, the magic seeped into the crusty bark, and began to seep further and further in, drawing him in with it.
His legs sank first, merging with the tree up to the waist. Then his arms to the shoulder, until the only things apart from the tree were the jutting prow of his chest and his head. Even the tendrils of his hair were burrowing into the craggy bark. He had to fight, though, to keep his mind from the tree. For if he sank too deeply into the old oak, he would become more treeish and lose his sense of time. Even now, the minutes seemed to melt away...
~*~*~
"...what have you done to him!?" Lily gasped, trying to break free from the mammoth man holding her to run to the tree. No... to him. She was running to him. How odd he must look now. Slowly, he looked up. He could see Lily and James, held by two of the Marionettenmeister's followers, another holding the infant. They had the silver wolf - it must be night now - was muzzled and leashed, looking rather beaten. He glared slightly, turning his head to look at the Marionettenmeister.
The man was regarding him with bemusement. "My dear lady, I had nothing to do with this. Though... why he would do such a thing is beyond me." The Marionettenmeister waved his hand dismissively. "No matter. He was only going to end up as kindling in any case." The follower holding the baby cackled and brought the infant over. Lily and James both lunged and struggled, but their captors were strong. He watched as the Marionettenmeister started the ritual. They were all so wrapped up in his chanting and hand waving; they didn't take any notice of the tree and its strange occupant.
Which was just what Severus wanted.
He moved slowly at first, stretching until he could sense the Marionettenmeister and his followers right above him. Then, the earth shuddered and then erupted as the roots of the tree broke through the ground and wrapped around the Marionettenmeister and his follower. They barely had to chance to scream before they were encased in the thick woody vines. A knotted, thorny hedge sprouted and grew around them in a semi-circle, blocking off any attack from the others. Lily and James stepped away from their trapped captors. "Rabe? The baby?"
One of the vines shifted, curled into a kind of nest as it hovered. The infant was safely nestled in the crook. He watched Lily take her son while James freed the silver wolf. "Go," he wheezed softly, finding that breathing was difficult. He pushed one of his roots through the wall, tearing an opening in the mortar and stone. "Follow the stream through the woods... it will take you back to Sweinmet. You will be safe there."
"Not without you," Lily said. "You've done so much for us... for little Harry, we cannot leave you behind now."
Severus shook his head. "My magic is already fading," he murmured. "If I were to leave with you, they would escape. No... it ends tonight, Herr Dumbledore's story. It began the night I killed him... and it ends tonight, when I kill the Marionettenmeister."
"How do you think you can manage that?" James asked, laying a hand on Lily's shoulder.
Severus smiled thinly. "The Marionettenmeister gave me a heart of coal for my services," he rasped. "He will find it was foolish to put something so flammable inside of a being made of wood."
Lily's eyes widened. "No... Rabe....” she placed her hand on his chest, eyes misted over with tears. "You mustn't..."
"Of all creatures on this earth," he murmured. "You were the first to show me kindness. Go. Take your son. I will finish what was begun." A tear slipped down her cheek, before she pressed a soft kiss to his own.
"I will never forget you, Kind Rabe," she murmured. "Your story..."
"Is not yet complete."
When Severus looked up, his eyes widened. Where the silver wolf had stood only a moment ago, Remus stood. No longer was he draped in a cloak of mottled furs, but instead tunic and hose of silver and white. His brown hair was streaked with silver, but his eyes were still the eyes of the wolf. Lily put a hand over her mouth, gasping softly. James clapped him on the shoulder. "It's done, old boy! The old man came through!"
Remus smiled sadly. "My curse has two parts, or had you forgotten, James?" He looked at Severus for a moment, then back at the Potters. "Go. Go now. He hasn't much time... and neither have I." Lily shook her head, but Remus merely kissed her cheek. "Promise me. Promise you'll tell Little Harry our story."
"Yes..." she whispered, softly. "I promise." James looked sadly at his friend, but knew better than to argue. He took Lily's hand and helped her through the hole in the wall. They both looked back at the puppet and the man, and then disappeared into the night.
Remus slowly walked to Severus, and gently caressed his cheek. "When I was a young man," he said, seeing the question in the jet eyes, "I allowed a friend of mine to taunt an old woman, and I laughed with him. To punish him for his cruelty, she turned him into a large black dog, which now lives with the Potters. He went for help when they came for us... but with me, the old crone was more creative. She said that because I was so desperate for love, but not brave enough to risk sacrifice, that I would now have to do just that. Until the day I found and recognized my true love, I would walk on two legs in the sunlight, and four in the moonlight. But when I did, if I ever spoke the words I would long to say, I would disappear into light and air."
"Then," Severus wheezed, "do not say the words." He let his head tip into the hand upon his cheek, savoring the soft touch. "My time is done, and the old man's purpose has been met. Go... let me die knowing that you still live..."
Remus shook his head, letting his thumb brush over Severus' cheekbone. "No," he said, smiling sadly. "I intend to be very selfish... and yet not so. You need to feel love deeply in order to set the fire, do you not? And besides..." Remus stepped closer, brushing his lips over the puppet's. "I do not think I wish to walk this world without you to share it with." He tipped his head just so, and kissed Severus deeply. His warm, pliant lips danced with Severus', his tongue gently wetting the plump, lower lip before gently coaxing them to part. Severus inhaled sharply, feeling warmth flash through his body, before it settled in a steady, flickering heat in his heart.
When they parted, Remus looked at him tenderly, running his fingers over the smooth plane of Severus' cheek. "You are so warm, my love," he murmured. Even as the word left his lips, a glow suffused his skin, pearly white that washed out the vibrant colors of his skin and eyes.
"No," Severus whispered. "Don't leave me alone..."
Remus chuckled softly, the light growing brighter. "I will be with you... for I am what you need, besides the earth and water beneath your roots..."
"Light.. and air..." Severus whispered, watching as Remus' face faded like the last star in the morning. He closed his eyes, feeling Remus seep beneath his skin and spread through him. He could feel all that Remus was and could be fill him, and all of the love that Remus felt for him adding fuel to the fledgling fire.
His reverie was broken by a mocking laugh. "Fool," the Marionettenmeister crowed, his face pressing against the binding roots. "Fool! Now you are truly alone, and you shall burn to a cinder! And I shall go and take the Potter's child and kill him!"
"No," Severus said, looking at the man. "No, you shall not. For you gave me a heart of coal... and I have given you a prison of wood." He closed his eyes and let himself fall into the feeling that was now raging within him. The fire in the very quick of him spread to all his extremities, including the roots holding his prisoners. At first, he could hear their screaming as the fire began to consume their flesh. Then, slowly, it was drowned out by the rush and frenzy of the feeling beneath the emotion. It blotted out the rest of existence and became his whole world. And he reveled in its breadth and mystery.
"So this is love," Severus mused. "A joyous pain, and an agonizing rapture."
~*~*~
Once upon a time, there was a boy who grew up hearing the story of the Wolf and the Raven. Every night, his mother told him the story, for by far it was his favorite, and every night she said the same thing.
"Believe the story, for it is as true as you or I can ever hope to be."
One day, the boy asked his mother, "If the story is true, then it would have taken place in the village, is it not so? Can we not go and see the places of the tale, so that I may not know it is truly true?" And his mother and father agreed. They traveled into the village, where the old toyshop was thriving. A tinker and his family had been led there by a phoenix puppet. Now, their six boys were soon to be joined by a younger sister, and Herr Weasley was known as the finest toy maker since the Grand Old Man. They went to the pond and the old cottage where the boy had been born, the ruin overgrown with morning glory and honeysuckle. Then the woodcutter led his wife and son to the old ruin, which had been the Marionettenmeister's manor.
They were greeted by a strange and wondrous sight. For the walls of the manor had been pulled down to sink into the earth, and were overgrown with moss and lichen and flowering vines. The courtyard was overgrown with tall, waving grasses and wildflowers. In the very center was the blackened stump of the slumbering old oak. From the stump, grew two very different trees. One was a birch, the bark smooth and white with its leaves flashing silver in the sun. The second was a poplar, with leaves so dark a green they were nearly black. Their limbs wove together, like the fingers of two lovers carding through each other's hair. They stood tall, taller than they should in the short time they had grown, as if they had been rooted to that spot since time began.
The woodcutter and his wife stared at the trees in wonder. "Look, mother, look!" their son exclaimed. "The tree is giving you a gift!" And sure enough, one of the poplars branches seemed to sway lower than the other. Hanging from it was a pendant on a silver chain: a piece of ebony worn into the shape of a heart, bound by swirls of silver.
The woodcutter's wife took the pendant and held it to her breast. "Thank you, Kind Rabe. Thank you, Friend Remus. I shall treasure it always."
And so she did, as well as keeping her promise to tell the boy the story. A story of a puppet who wanted a heart, and found love instead.