Fan Fiction ❯ The Tangled Skein of Fate ❯ In Immortal Hands ( Chapter 1 )

In Immortal Hands

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Rating: PG 13 to R

Pairings: Ron/Hermione, Blaise/Harry, Ginny/Draco, misc.

Summery: What would happen if Harry and Draco had been raised in one another's place? What if Draco was the Boy-Who-Lived, and Harry was a Malfoy? Worse, what would happen if someone saw fit to make the boys we know so well switch places like that?

Disclaimer: The goddesses belong to different bits of world mythology. I'm not even sure I own their aliases. All HP characters belong to J. K. Rowling and whoever else gets paid for them. I just enjoy torturing them.

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"That's it!"

The velvet darkness of the silver castle echoed with this growl of disgust. In the candlelit Library, the Deities, Lamia opened her eyes to look at the door, before casting a curious glance at Mielikki, who merely shrugged and went back to reading.

After the typical pause, the door slammed open and Creirwy stalked into the room. In one hand, she was carrying a woven reed basket, neatly covered with silver silk. Her gaze lit on her fellow goddesses and sisters, one at a time. The look was cold, remote and sparkled faintly with a bit of mischievous anger.

Her eyes were silver, luminous as the full moon, framed by thick, long lashes that could have been ductile lines of night. Her skin was a healthy pale, unmarred. Full lips like rose bud petals pressed together unhappily. Through the delicate layers of epidermis, one could glimpse fine traceries of lavender and faint blushes of pink. She was slender, and even still, her form gave this graceful image. Her hair was divided into a half a pony tail, and neatly braided. The bottom half was left down. The locks, with their nearly metallic luster, framed her perfectly, brushing the floor at the end of their length.

Had they not recognized her voice a moment before, they'd have just thought she had another row with Loki. But she never spoke when she argued with him.

Mielikki was sitting in the Lotus position on the armchair, reading from the Comte De Monte Cristo. Her short, ruby hair echoed the less seen, wild side of her nature with it's wind-blown look. Her jade eyes glittered with amusement, the reason she kept her head down. The deities lithe form was garbed very neatly in a white poet's shirt and emerald yoga pants. With the complexion of a porcelien doll, sprinkled with copper freckles and features of an innocent maid, she certainly didn't seem as wild as she was.

Lamia looked her nature completely, however. Her raven hair was cut short, just about her shoulders so it didn't get in the way when she was practicing her weapon skills. Black riding pants and suede matching boots accented her long legs. Her shirt was a silk tank, so dark a green it seemed almost black. Her features were vaguely asian, her skintone a dark tan, full lips painted crimson. She laid back on the white carpet, blinking obsidian eyes up at Creirwy curiously.

Bellona was sprawled out on the black fainting couch, in black leather pants and a crimson tube top of the same color. Her garnet hair was streaked with wide bands of ebony. The locks curled slightly, where they sprang, unruly, from her braid. The death pale of her skin, almost grey, was a stark contrast to the fiery embers of her eyes. She was, of course, reading a romance novel.

Except, now all three were looking up at her.

"What's it, little sister?" inquired Lamia, lightly enough. Creirwy's lips curled into a mockery of a smile.

"Draco Malfoy and Harry Potter. Their feud has gone on long enough and it is far past time for it to be settles. Especially since both are key to defeating Voldemort."

"What's the big deal with that, anyways? One great evil goes out, another pops up." Bellona shrugged and then winced at the icy look the Fair One gave her.

"The "Big Deal" is I want them to stop feuding. It's ruining my fantasies.." This caused the darker two, Lamia and Bellona, to roll their eyes. Creirwy laughed, a sound that was oddly musical, almost as if a harp was being strummed nearby. "Honestly, sisters, I am merely annoyed with the strife. I have just the plan, however.

"Here it comes," Mielikki groaned, tossing the heavy tome aside.

"What do you have planned now?" Bellona almost whined. Bellona never whined. But she came close several times.

Creirwy said nothing. She reached into the basket and pulled out what appeared to be a normal spindle. Wooden, it seemed like some archaic human artifact. Apparently made equally of Oak, Ash and Thorn, it lacked the nessacary Skein.

"What is that?" demanded Lamia, none-too-smoothly. She eyed the thing warily. The spindle flashed softy with golden light, before three distinct, and faintly sparkling threads appeared, separate and wound around the tool.

"Fate's Spindle. "

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Lamia- The first Lamia was a Queen of Libya, who won Zeus's attention. Thus making Hera jealous. Hera turned her into a serpent like monster that fed on infants and seduced sleeping men.

Mielikki- Finnish goddess of Forest and Hunting.

Creirwy- Celtic Goddess Daughter of Cerridwen, called the Most Beautiful Girl. Daughter of the Moon.

Bellona- Roman goddess of war. Rash, impetuous, and otherwise unknown.