Fan Fiction ❯ The Life and Times of a Girl Named Blaise Zabini ❯ Chapter Eleven ( Chapter 11 )
[ T - Teen: Not suitable for readers under 13 ]
By: Rosy the Cat 
More family secrets and an emotional blow-up; angst ahoy!
Anime/Manga: Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Supernatural / Romance / Drama / Angst | Type: Crossover | Uploaded On: 03.05.2004 | Pages: 6 | Words: 3.7K | Visits: 346 | Status: Completed
More family secrets and an emotional blow-up; angst ahoy!
Anime/Manga: Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Supernatural / Romance / Drama / Angst | Type: Crossover | Uploaded On: 03.05.2004 | Pages: 6 | Words: 3.7K | Visits: 346 | Status: Completed
The Life and Times of a Girl Named Blaise Zabini
By Rosy the Cat
Summary: Blaise Zabini isn't your average Slytherin. She's smart, she's
loyal, and she wants to kick Voldemort's arse. Oh, and she's not human.
LotR (movie cannon) /Harry Potter fusion with elements from "The Sandman."
Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created
and owned by J. K. Rowling, various publishers including but not
limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and
Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark
infringement is intended.
The Lord of the Rings belongs to J. R. R. Tolkien, probably his family,
New Line Cinemas, and probably a bunch of other people.
The Sandman belongs to Neil Gaiman, and DC Comics/Vertigo.
Record of Lodloss War belongs to Ryo Mizuno.
Author's Notes: Sindarin is the elvish dialect Legolas probably spoke
the most often, since he is a Sindarin Elf.
Chapter 11
Notation: [...] means the words are being spoken in Elvish
*************************
Desire of the Endless rose from it's reclining position on a fashionable
chaise lounge and sauntered provocatively up to its gallery in The Threshold.
Carefully examining the six items arrayed along the wall, it finally selected
one.
"Attend, sweet sibling. I stand in my gallery and I hold your sigil. Will
you talk to me?"
A steady glow grew, resolving itself into the short, squat and to some
grotesque figure of Despair, Desire's twin.
"I am always ready to *listen* to you, Desire. Talk."
Leaning against one wall, Desire began. "A game I have devised, sister. I
wish to attempt the impossible."
Despair pondered this, absently carving a slender line along her expansive
front with her hooked ring. "Little is truly impossible if given sufficient
time, Desire. What is this game?"
"I seek that which I have long sought with our brother, Dream. But I wish
to see if such would be possible with our elder sister, Death."
Despair immediately responded with, "The elder three do not play our games,
Desire! And our sister does not kill."
Shrugging, Desire simply said, "It was merely a thought; perhaps it could
have worked. Still, one wonders about our dear sister. Can she bear a mortal
child? It is said she spends a day of each century as a mortal..."
Nodding, Despair slowly replied, "I have heard such tales, though I do not
know the truth of it. As for a child...It is unknown." Pulling harshly on
her bottom lip with the hook of her ring, Despair said slowly, "This is
something to ponder, and something that could take a great deal of time."
Desire smirked, beeped its sister's nose, and said, "Are we not *Endless*,
Queen of Despair? Go you well, my twin."
+++++++++++++++++++++
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Blaise woke with a great, shuddering gasp, sitting up rigidly in her bed
for a moment, one hand to her head. Quietly, she patted Della (formerly
Delai; Auntie Del had thrown a hissy-fit at that name earlier that week)
gently on the side flank at the cat's protesting "mew!", soothing her
back to sleep.
*Someone* should be getting more than four hours of sleep tonight, after
all.
The half-elf slipped silently out of bed, tucking the pile of covers
tenderly around her familiar before scuffing her feet into her newly-
acquired Record of Lodloss War slippers. Those massive, sticking-out
ears the elves in that series had were a laugh riot.
Japanese portrayal of Elves, however, weren't the issue of the moment,
however. The dream smacked altogether too much of truth in an utterly
scary way, a feeling that lingered even as the dream itself seemed to
fade away. After scribbling what she remembered of her dream down into
her diary with her invisible ink, Blaise riffled through her trunk for
a bathrobe, grabbed the diary, cast a ball of Ethric light, and double-
checked her words.
She didn't know what to make of it, really.
"Something about Mum and a baby," Blaise murmured softly to herself,
wracking her brain for more information even as she added that bit to
her notes. She began pacing around the dorm room, careful not to wake
her roommates
What to do, what to do...
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The next morning, Blaise wasn't any closer to figuring out that dream.
She'd contemplated entering the Dreaming again, perhaps to ask Uncle
about this, but she had hesitated. She had lost her way in the Dreaming
before, and she rather despised nightmares.
Her next idea was to ask Professor Trelawney about it, but everything
she had heard about the Divination teacher pointed her out to be just
a few prophesies shy of a quack. No go there.
Then she had had a bit of a brainstorm and had written a quick letter
to Cousin Orpheus, complete with a copy of what she remembered from the
dream. The man was an oracle in his own right; he would know what to
make of the whole thing. She'd sent the letter off with Verde after a
quick detour to the Owlery on her way to breakfast.
Even so, four hours of sleep in one week did not a happy eleth make.
Upon her arrival at her usual spot at the Slytherin table, Blaise was
presented with a large blueberry muffin by Draco, which she accepted
with a tired grunt, and placed in the center of her plate. The delectable
pastry was stared at for about three minutes.
She abruptly face-planted into the muffin, her right cheek pillowed by
the baked goodie, and, sighing blissfully, fell asleep.
Draco sweatdropped.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
+++++++++++++++++++++
"I take it by your summons, sibling, that you have divined some kernel
of information on your new diversion," Despair remarked dryly upon
catching her first glimpse of her twin, who was practically bouncing
with barely-suppressed glee.
"That I have! The rumors are quite true, sister, and I have divined the
opportune moment necessary for all to proceed."
"And a father for a child?"
"Whoever happens to be present should suffice, so long as he is plausibly
attractive enough."
"And if a child is not begotten?"
"..."
"...The thought never occurred to you, did it?"
Desire opened its mouth to proclaim a vehement denial, snapped said mouth
shut, then shrugged absently. "You know me far too well, my twin. In any
case," it continued, flopping bonelessly into a formless stuffed armchair,
"Even if the main goal is not achieved, we will at least have the diversion
of teasing our *dear* elder sister. And, hmm, come to think of it, there
are a few fertility deities that owe me favors..."
+++++++++++++++++++++
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Blaise had, for the first time in her scholastic career, had to literally
*run* to get to a class (Charms) on time. Draco had just barely managed
to get her to wake up in time for *that*, as it was. While she was in
class with bare minutes to spare, she found her mind drifting off,
pondering the latest installment of her particularly odd dreams.
Were they mere flights of fancy, brought about by stress and recent events
and blown straight through the Gates of Ivory, whence pass only lies? Or
were they true, from the Gates of Horn, which are no longer guarded? Quite
frankly, Blaise found that second possibility to be the worst. If the dreams
were true, then so much in her life was due to Desire, her Ojibasan.
As much as Blaise adored her parents, her sister, her friends...this
potential discovery threw the pain and suffering of those self-same people
she loved into extremely harsh relief. Because of her relatives' stupid,
retarded...AAAARG!!!...games, an already nigh-intolerable situation had
been made worse. Even more so the guilt she felt.
Before now, Blaise could go about her life in ignorant bliss; she had long
felt angry with her father's wife, who had left he and Dallandra behind
when the pull of Valinor had become too strong for her to deny, but, well,
for the majority of her life she had worked under the assumption that the
eleth had been her grandmother, not her step-mother. She knew the elven
attitude towards marriage: you only ever entered into it out of true,
soul-deep love, and you, therefore, never did anything marriage-appropriate
outside of your marriage. But, because of Auntie Despair and Ojibasan no
baka, her father had broken, though unintentionally, his vows. Step-parents
just weren't something you had among elves; 'till death do you part didn't
apply, because it was nigh-impossible for an elven couple to be permanently
separated. If one was killed, the other, one way or another, at some time
or another, would join the killed one in Valinor eventually. And her being
alive just made it worse.
A tear slipped silently down Blaise's face as she rushed out of class on the
proverbial coat-tails of Professor Flitwick's dismissal.
She needed to get away.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Blaise slammed the door to the hidden room she'd taken Draco and Ginny to
a few weeks before behind her before launching herself haphazardly into
the nearest desk, burying her tear-streaked face into her arms. All the
way there she had avoided any and all contact with her fellow students,
and had been fortunate enough not to have come across any professors. A
single, heart-wrenching sob tore itself from her throat, from the depths
of her very being.
The damn had finally broken. Waves of self-loathing were bombarding her
like a raging sea in a full-out, extremely nasty hurricane battering
down upon a small tropical island.
Blaise was well and truly despairing.
"You call to me, niece."
Blaise felt her shoulders, nay, her entire body, stiffen at that voice.
The voice of a being that, prior to that day, she would have freely and
cheerfully have claimed to love.
A hurricane of depression, in that instant, became a tidal wave of
*loathing*. Blaise launched herself at the elder of her two aunts,
screaming.
"HOW COULD YOU?! Are the lives of others all nothing more than a stupid
game to you?! Are we all just a bunch of toys, or bugs, or *pond scum* to
you?! I *HATE* YOU!!!"
Despair, for her part, was completely and utterly confused at this point.
While the goddess of empty rooms normally would be able to tell not only
what was wrong with those who fell under her domain, but also what had led
them there, it was both easier and harder when concerning her family. With
her siblings, she had known them so long that the difficulty was almost
negligible, but her niece...was still another story. She was only getting
part of it, something involving dreams, though why her brother's realm
would lead Elessario to such a rage she had no clue.
At her aunt's continued look of confusion, Blaise continued with, "It's
all your fault, you know; yours and Desire's. If it weren't for you two,
Ada wouldn't be spending most of his time fighting back guilt for cheating
on his wife with Mum. If it weren't for *you two*, Dad wouldn't have been
obsessing over his sins and suchlike and might have noticed something off
with Lorenzo earlier and had talked my sister out of marrying that
sonofamotherlessGOAT! It's all your fault! If you'd just stopped and
considered the consequences of your actions for a minute back then, you
could have talked Ojiba-baka-frickin'-yarou out of it! I wouldn't be
alive and making things even worse for Ada now because he'd be frickin'
STERILE like the Valar intended! I HATE YOU!!! Hate you, hate you, HATE
YOU!!!"
Blaise's voice was quite hoarse by this time, huffing, puffing, and
clearly still fuming over the issue. Quite frankly, Despair did not
know how to react. Usually, when one of the games or schemes developed
by the younger three Endless, though rarely Delirium, were discovered,
the backlash was slight, perhaps a reprimand from those of the elder
three that they had involved somehow. Never had one of the few descendants
(for there were only five at the time) learned of these things,
especially not one that concerned them directly. Though she could see
why her youngest niece would be upset, she had most certainly not
expected this, much less the intensity of her ire. Thus, Despair found
herself doing something she had never done before.
She apologized.
"I am truly sorry, niece; it is true, I did not truly consider the
consequences of our actions, and I would like nothing better than to
take it all back. But I cannot. That is not the way of things. We,
all of those affected by what was done then, will have to live with
it, and make the most of it."
Blaise was quiet and, while still standing rigid, relaxed almost
imperceptibly. Quietly, she asked, "Does Mum know?"
Despair got a full-on deer-in-the-headlights look and said, "I
emphatically hope not."
Both stood quietly for a few more minutes in silent contemplation. Blaise
broke the silence by asking, "Should I tell Ada? Will it make him feel
less like an arse, or moreso?"
"...That," her aunt finally said, slowly and carefully, "Is for you to
determine on your own. In any case, Elessario, before you let guilt
take you over so thoroughly again, you should ponder something," Despair
cautioned even as she began to fade out of sight. "A different action
on my part might have left your father and sister emotionally better
off, but how would your lack of existence have effected those you care
about now? Of course, in the end all of the could-have-beens in the
world will not change anything, and you will have to move on. So, are
you going to dwell on the mistakes of others, or are you going to use
the results of those mistakes to do the most good for yourself and
others?"
Blaise was still pondering her aunt's words when she went to bed that
night, cuddling Della closely to her in comfort.
*************************
Glossary of Words the Readers Might Not Know:
Ada = Elvish, I don't remember which language, but it means Father, Dad,
or Daddy.
Ojibasan = My bastardization of Japanese. Literally means UncleAunt.
Baka = Japanese. Means foolish/stupid/idiot. ex.: Orc no baka! =^^=
Bakayarou = Japanese. The most common translation I've heard use is
Jackass, but it is quite possible it implies stronger connotations,
and the Anime censors settled for that. In any case, not a nice thing
to be called.
Author's Notes: Sorry this new chapter was so long in coming, not to
mention short, guys, but, hey, I got it all banged out in about three
days! That's gotta count for something, right? Right?
*sighs*
Anyhoo, work in winter and classes of late have kept me busy, but,
look, writer's block is gone for a while! Yay!
My thanks, always, go out to you guys, my readers and reviewers. For
those of you I've been in contact with between last chapter and this,
obviously I've decided against re-writing this entire shebang. On the
plus side...Look Cin, Blaise is becoming fallible! Yay!
To my reviewers:
Jaya- Ah, yes, ff.net; I don't have much right to complain, really; I've
gotten quite a few reviews through them. As for your amusement over Snape
and the bathroom scene, well, I'll freely admit that it gave me some
giggles too.
Hmm, good question about the psudo-insult to Hermione. The answer? I
honestly do not know. I think my main goal was to get more of Hermione
into the story. I rather promised her I would, you know. In any case,
I am very glad my characterizations amuse you.
Darcel- Yay! *huggle-glomp!* And may I say, "They Shook Hands" was
spiffy to the uber-max? Because it was. Any chance for a sequel?
*hopehopehope!*
...Okay, now that my fangirl moment is over and done with, I'm glad
you like the story so far, but, in answer to your canon question: in
GoF, one of the places where Gladrags Robes For All Occasions was
listed as being located was Hogsmeade, which makes sense; I mean, not
only do you have kids who out-grow/ruin clothes on occasion, but there's
also the teachers, some of which would probably prefer not to have to
go to the effort of going to Diagon Alley. Diagon Alley seems mostly to
be where students go for supplies because it's in London, capitol of the
U.K. and thus more people would be able to get there easily. Also in
GoF, it's mentioned that Harry and Ron buy a bunch of socks for Dobby
at a shop in Hogsmeade.
Elainie- Thanks, glad you're enjoying this!
EnchantedSpirit, aka fantasyangel- *pats her on the head* Good girl!
Though this advice is probably months too late, don't let Tolkien's
pacing get you down. I had a hard time getting through "The Hobbit",
personally. And thanks!
Aleh, Sushinase, and Bla- Thank you.
Liz- Again, thanks for your concern over that particular issue, and
thanks a whole bunch for hosting a lot of my stories. Seriously, you
rock da casbah.
Kiwinut- All hail Kiwinut, who created my very first piece of fan art,
for it is spiffy!
*concerned* Seriously though, Kiwinut, you might want to make sure
everything is okay with your e-mail. I've tried to send quite a few
thank you notes, but none of them went through. *brightens!* Consider
this your thank you note! For everybody else, Kiwinut's lovely artwork
can be found on the story art page of my site, which is at
www.geocities.com/rosythecat/
village idiot (seriously, that's what they signed the review!)- Thank
you. Personally, I noticed an odd sort of trend of Blaise-centric or
expanded stories shortly after I started posting this. Either I'm
perceived as a trend starter, or it's all a gynormous coincidence.
Draqulyn- Nope, nothing's wrong with you. To be honest, I started
reading Ranma 1/2 crossovers before knowing anything about the canon
story. You tend to pick things up as you go, really. Anyhoo, thanks!
The Idiot Savant (again, that's what they signed the review!)- *blush!*
Well, thank you! Aren't you nice?
And because you just *know* you're getting noticed when you're flamed:
Skye14321- Ahem. First, never seen the Harry Potter Lexicon, never
heard of it either. In any case, I don't give a darn, and neither
do, apparently, a bunch of other people who like to write Blaise as
a girl. Second, nitpicky-ness is good within reason, but, really, are
you completely incapable of suspending disbelief? If so, hate to say
this, but fiction in general is going to be really disappointing for
you. Third, I can honestly say with complete certainty that this is,
in fact, *not* the world's worst Mary-Sue. I have seen some Mary-Sues
that were so bad, I wanted to dunk my brain in bleach after *one*
*paragraph*. I will freely admit that Blaise has some Sue-ish elements,
but I'm working on that.
fd- You are a sad, sad person if *my* efforts, of all things, ruin
The Sandman, LotR, and Harry Potter. And that is all I have to say
to you.
In closing, thank you all (especially Rhonda-sensei) for your kind
and loving support. Here's hoping for more inspiration to strike
soon, and please review!
-- Rosy the Cat
rosythecat@yahoo.com
3-3-04
By Rosy the Cat
Summary: Blaise Zabini isn't your average Slytherin. She's smart, she's
loyal, and she wants to kick Voldemort's arse. Oh, and she's not human.
LotR (movie cannon) /Harry Potter fusion with elements from "The Sandman."
Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created
and owned by J. K. Rowling, various publishers including but not
limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and
Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark
infringement is intended.
The Lord of the Rings belongs to J. R. R. Tolkien, probably his family,
New Line Cinemas, and probably a bunch of other people.
The Sandman belongs to Neil Gaiman, and DC Comics/Vertigo.
Record of Lodloss War belongs to Ryo Mizuno.
Author's Notes: Sindarin is the elvish dialect Legolas probably spoke
the most often, since he is a Sindarin Elf.
Chapter 11
Notation: [...] means the words are being spoken in Elvish
*************************
Desire of the Endless rose from it's reclining position on a fashionable
chaise lounge and sauntered provocatively up to its gallery in The Threshold.
Carefully examining the six items arrayed along the wall, it finally selected
one.
"Attend, sweet sibling. I stand in my gallery and I hold your sigil. Will
you talk to me?"
A steady glow grew, resolving itself into the short, squat and to some
grotesque figure of Despair, Desire's twin.
"I am always ready to *listen* to you, Desire. Talk."
Leaning against one wall, Desire began. "A game I have devised, sister. I
wish to attempt the impossible."
Despair pondered this, absently carving a slender line along her expansive
front with her hooked ring. "Little is truly impossible if given sufficient
time, Desire. What is this game?"
"I seek that which I have long sought with our brother, Dream. But I wish
to see if such would be possible with our elder sister, Death."
Despair immediately responded with, "The elder three do not play our games,
Desire! And our sister does not kill."
Shrugging, Desire simply said, "It was merely a thought; perhaps it could
have worked. Still, one wonders about our dear sister. Can she bear a mortal
child? It is said she spends a day of each century as a mortal..."
Nodding, Despair slowly replied, "I have heard such tales, though I do not
know the truth of it. As for a child...It is unknown." Pulling harshly on
her bottom lip with the hook of her ring, Despair said slowly, "This is
something to ponder, and something that could take a great deal of time."
Desire smirked, beeped its sister's nose, and said, "Are we not *Endless*,
Queen of Despair? Go you well, my twin."
+++++++++++++++++++++
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Blaise woke with a great, shuddering gasp, sitting up rigidly in her bed
for a moment, one hand to her head. Quietly, she patted Della (formerly
Delai; Auntie Del had thrown a hissy-fit at that name earlier that week)
gently on the side flank at the cat's protesting "mew!", soothing her
back to sleep.
*Someone* should be getting more than four hours of sleep tonight, after
all.
The half-elf slipped silently out of bed, tucking the pile of covers
tenderly around her familiar before scuffing her feet into her newly-
acquired Record of Lodloss War slippers. Those massive, sticking-out
ears the elves in that series had were a laugh riot.
Japanese portrayal of Elves, however, weren't the issue of the moment,
however. The dream smacked altogether too much of truth in an utterly
scary way, a feeling that lingered even as the dream itself seemed to
fade away. After scribbling what she remembered of her dream down into
her diary with her invisible ink, Blaise riffled through her trunk for
a bathrobe, grabbed the diary, cast a ball of Ethric light, and double-
checked her words.
She didn't know what to make of it, really.
"Something about Mum and a baby," Blaise murmured softly to herself,
wracking her brain for more information even as she added that bit to
her notes. She began pacing around the dorm room, careful not to wake
her roommates
What to do, what to do...
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The next morning, Blaise wasn't any closer to figuring out that dream.
She'd contemplated entering the Dreaming again, perhaps to ask Uncle
about this, but she had hesitated. She had lost her way in the Dreaming
before, and she rather despised nightmares.
Her next idea was to ask Professor Trelawney about it, but everything
she had heard about the Divination teacher pointed her out to be just
a few prophesies shy of a quack. No go there.
Then she had had a bit of a brainstorm and had written a quick letter
to Cousin Orpheus, complete with a copy of what she remembered from the
dream. The man was an oracle in his own right; he would know what to
make of the whole thing. She'd sent the letter off with Verde after a
quick detour to the Owlery on her way to breakfast.
Even so, four hours of sleep in one week did not a happy eleth make.
Upon her arrival at her usual spot at the Slytherin table, Blaise was
presented with a large blueberry muffin by Draco, which she accepted
with a tired grunt, and placed in the center of her plate. The delectable
pastry was stared at for about three minutes.
She abruptly face-planted into the muffin, her right cheek pillowed by
the baked goodie, and, sighing blissfully, fell asleep.
Draco sweatdropped.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
+++++++++++++++++++++
"I take it by your summons, sibling, that you have divined some kernel
of information on your new diversion," Despair remarked dryly upon
catching her first glimpse of her twin, who was practically bouncing
with barely-suppressed glee.
"That I have! The rumors are quite true, sister, and I have divined the
opportune moment necessary for all to proceed."
"And a father for a child?"
"Whoever happens to be present should suffice, so long as he is plausibly
attractive enough."
"And if a child is not begotten?"
"..."
"...The thought never occurred to you, did it?"
Desire opened its mouth to proclaim a vehement denial, snapped said mouth
shut, then shrugged absently. "You know me far too well, my twin. In any
case," it continued, flopping bonelessly into a formless stuffed armchair,
"Even if the main goal is not achieved, we will at least have the diversion
of teasing our *dear* elder sister. And, hmm, come to think of it, there
are a few fertility deities that owe me favors..."
+++++++++++++++++++++
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Blaise had, for the first time in her scholastic career, had to literally
*run* to get to a class (Charms) on time. Draco had just barely managed
to get her to wake up in time for *that*, as it was. While she was in
class with bare minutes to spare, she found her mind drifting off,
pondering the latest installment of her particularly odd dreams.
Were they mere flights of fancy, brought about by stress and recent events
and blown straight through the Gates of Ivory, whence pass only lies? Or
were they true, from the Gates of Horn, which are no longer guarded? Quite
frankly, Blaise found that second possibility to be the worst. If the dreams
were true, then so much in her life was due to Desire, her Ojibasan.
As much as Blaise adored her parents, her sister, her friends...this
potential discovery threw the pain and suffering of those self-same people
she loved into extremely harsh relief. Because of her relatives' stupid,
retarded...AAAARG!!!...games, an already nigh-intolerable situation had
been made worse. Even more so the guilt she felt.
Before now, Blaise could go about her life in ignorant bliss; she had long
felt angry with her father's wife, who had left he and Dallandra behind
when the pull of Valinor had become too strong for her to deny, but, well,
for the majority of her life she had worked under the assumption that the
eleth had been her grandmother, not her step-mother. She knew the elven
attitude towards marriage: you only ever entered into it out of true,
soul-deep love, and you, therefore, never did anything marriage-appropriate
outside of your marriage. But, because of Auntie Despair and Ojibasan no
baka, her father had broken, though unintentionally, his vows. Step-parents
just weren't something you had among elves; 'till death do you part didn't
apply, because it was nigh-impossible for an elven couple to be permanently
separated. If one was killed, the other, one way or another, at some time
or another, would join the killed one in Valinor eventually. And her being
alive just made it worse.
A tear slipped silently down Blaise's face as she rushed out of class on the
proverbial coat-tails of Professor Flitwick's dismissal.
She needed to get away.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Blaise slammed the door to the hidden room she'd taken Draco and Ginny to
a few weeks before behind her before launching herself haphazardly into
the nearest desk, burying her tear-streaked face into her arms. All the
way there she had avoided any and all contact with her fellow students,
and had been fortunate enough not to have come across any professors. A
single, heart-wrenching sob tore itself from her throat, from the depths
of her very being.
The damn had finally broken. Waves of self-loathing were bombarding her
like a raging sea in a full-out, extremely nasty hurricane battering
down upon a small tropical island.
Blaise was well and truly despairing.
"You call to me, niece."
Blaise felt her shoulders, nay, her entire body, stiffen at that voice.
The voice of a being that, prior to that day, she would have freely and
cheerfully have claimed to love.
A hurricane of depression, in that instant, became a tidal wave of
*loathing*. Blaise launched herself at the elder of her two aunts,
screaming.
"HOW COULD YOU?! Are the lives of others all nothing more than a stupid
game to you?! Are we all just a bunch of toys, or bugs, or *pond scum* to
you?! I *HATE* YOU!!!"
Despair, for her part, was completely and utterly confused at this point.
While the goddess of empty rooms normally would be able to tell not only
what was wrong with those who fell under her domain, but also what had led
them there, it was both easier and harder when concerning her family. With
her siblings, she had known them so long that the difficulty was almost
negligible, but her niece...was still another story. She was only getting
part of it, something involving dreams, though why her brother's realm
would lead Elessario to such a rage she had no clue.
At her aunt's continued look of confusion, Blaise continued with, "It's
all your fault, you know; yours and Desire's. If it weren't for you two,
Ada wouldn't be spending most of his time fighting back guilt for cheating
on his wife with Mum. If it weren't for *you two*, Dad wouldn't have been
obsessing over his sins and suchlike and might have noticed something off
with Lorenzo earlier and had talked my sister out of marrying that
sonofamotherlessGOAT! It's all your fault! If you'd just stopped and
considered the consequences of your actions for a minute back then, you
could have talked Ojiba-baka-frickin'-yarou out of it! I wouldn't be
alive and making things even worse for Ada now because he'd be frickin'
STERILE like the Valar intended! I HATE YOU!!! Hate you, hate you, HATE
YOU!!!"
Blaise's voice was quite hoarse by this time, huffing, puffing, and
clearly still fuming over the issue. Quite frankly, Despair did not
know how to react. Usually, when one of the games or schemes developed
by the younger three Endless, though rarely Delirium, were discovered,
the backlash was slight, perhaps a reprimand from those of the elder
three that they had involved somehow. Never had one of the few descendants
(for there were only five at the time) learned of these things,
especially not one that concerned them directly. Though she could see
why her youngest niece would be upset, she had most certainly not
expected this, much less the intensity of her ire. Thus, Despair found
herself doing something she had never done before.
She apologized.
"I am truly sorry, niece; it is true, I did not truly consider the
consequences of our actions, and I would like nothing better than to
take it all back. But I cannot. That is not the way of things. We,
all of those affected by what was done then, will have to live with
it, and make the most of it."
Blaise was quiet and, while still standing rigid, relaxed almost
imperceptibly. Quietly, she asked, "Does Mum know?"
Despair got a full-on deer-in-the-headlights look and said, "I
emphatically hope not."
Both stood quietly for a few more minutes in silent contemplation. Blaise
broke the silence by asking, "Should I tell Ada? Will it make him feel
less like an arse, or moreso?"
"...That," her aunt finally said, slowly and carefully, "Is for you to
determine on your own. In any case, Elessario, before you let guilt
take you over so thoroughly again, you should ponder something," Despair
cautioned even as she began to fade out of sight. "A different action
on my part might have left your father and sister emotionally better
off, but how would your lack of existence have effected those you care
about now? Of course, in the end all of the could-have-beens in the
world will not change anything, and you will have to move on. So, are
you going to dwell on the mistakes of others, or are you going to use
the results of those mistakes to do the most good for yourself and
others?"
Blaise was still pondering her aunt's words when she went to bed that
night, cuddling Della closely to her in comfort.
*************************
Glossary of Words the Readers Might Not Know:
Ada = Elvish, I don't remember which language, but it means Father, Dad,
or Daddy.
Ojibasan = My bastardization of Japanese. Literally means UncleAunt.
Baka = Japanese. Means foolish/stupid/idiot. ex.: Orc no baka! =^^=
Bakayarou = Japanese. The most common translation I've heard use is
Jackass, but it is quite possible it implies stronger connotations,
and the Anime censors settled for that. In any case, not a nice thing
to be called.
Author's Notes: Sorry this new chapter was so long in coming, not to
mention short, guys, but, hey, I got it all banged out in about three
days! That's gotta count for something, right? Right?
*sighs*
Anyhoo, work in winter and classes of late have kept me busy, but,
look, writer's block is gone for a while! Yay!
My thanks, always, go out to you guys, my readers and reviewers. For
those of you I've been in contact with between last chapter and this,
obviously I've decided against re-writing this entire shebang. On the
plus side...Look Cin, Blaise is becoming fallible! Yay!
To my reviewers:
Jaya- Ah, yes, ff.net; I don't have much right to complain, really; I've
gotten quite a few reviews through them. As for your amusement over Snape
and the bathroom scene, well, I'll freely admit that it gave me some
giggles too.
Hmm, good question about the psudo-insult to Hermione. The answer? I
honestly do not know. I think my main goal was to get more of Hermione
into the story. I rather promised her I would, you know. In any case,
I am very glad my characterizations amuse you.
Darcel- Yay! *huggle-glomp!* And may I say, "They Shook Hands" was
spiffy to the uber-max? Because it was. Any chance for a sequel?
*hopehopehope!*
...Okay, now that my fangirl moment is over and done with, I'm glad
you like the story so far, but, in answer to your canon question: in
GoF, one of the places where Gladrags Robes For All Occasions was
listed as being located was Hogsmeade, which makes sense; I mean, not
only do you have kids who out-grow/ruin clothes on occasion, but there's
also the teachers, some of which would probably prefer not to have to
go to the effort of going to Diagon Alley. Diagon Alley seems mostly to
be where students go for supplies because it's in London, capitol of the
U.K. and thus more people would be able to get there easily. Also in
GoF, it's mentioned that Harry and Ron buy a bunch of socks for Dobby
at a shop in Hogsmeade.
Elainie- Thanks, glad you're enjoying this!
EnchantedSpirit, aka fantasyangel- *pats her on the head* Good girl!
Though this advice is probably months too late, don't let Tolkien's
pacing get you down. I had a hard time getting through "The Hobbit",
personally. And thanks!
Aleh, Sushinase, and Bla- Thank you.
Liz- Again, thanks for your concern over that particular issue, and
thanks a whole bunch for hosting a lot of my stories. Seriously, you
rock da casbah.
Kiwinut- All hail Kiwinut, who created my very first piece of fan art,
for it is spiffy!
*concerned* Seriously though, Kiwinut, you might want to make sure
everything is okay with your e-mail. I've tried to send quite a few
thank you notes, but none of them went through. *brightens!* Consider
this your thank you note! For everybody else, Kiwinut's lovely artwork
can be found on the story art page of my site, which is at
www.geocities.com/rosythecat/
village idiot (seriously, that's what they signed the review!)- Thank
you. Personally, I noticed an odd sort of trend of Blaise-centric or
expanded stories shortly after I started posting this. Either I'm
perceived as a trend starter, or it's all a gynormous coincidence.
Draqulyn- Nope, nothing's wrong with you. To be honest, I started
reading Ranma 1/2 crossovers before knowing anything about the canon
story. You tend to pick things up as you go, really. Anyhoo, thanks!
The Idiot Savant (again, that's what they signed the review!)- *blush!*
Well, thank you! Aren't you nice?
And because you just *know* you're getting noticed when you're flamed:
Skye14321- Ahem. First, never seen the Harry Potter Lexicon, never
heard of it either. In any case, I don't give a darn, and neither
do, apparently, a bunch of other people who like to write Blaise as
a girl. Second, nitpicky-ness is good within reason, but, really, are
you completely incapable of suspending disbelief? If so, hate to say
this, but fiction in general is going to be really disappointing for
you. Third, I can honestly say with complete certainty that this is,
in fact, *not* the world's worst Mary-Sue. I have seen some Mary-Sues
that were so bad, I wanted to dunk my brain in bleach after *one*
*paragraph*. I will freely admit that Blaise has some Sue-ish elements,
but I'm working on that.
fd- You are a sad, sad person if *my* efforts, of all things, ruin
The Sandman, LotR, and Harry Potter. And that is all I have to say
to you.
In closing, thank you all (especially Rhonda-sensei) for your kind
and loving support. Here's hoping for more inspiration to strike
soon, and please review!
-- Rosy the Cat
rosythecat@yahoo.com
3-3-04