eachdraidh | ( video ; seelie + unseelie )

Entry tags:

( video ; seelie + unseelie )

(ooc: link to a video representation here! tw for torture/blood)

THE DREAM;

[ It starts of as nothing more than blackness and screaming, the sounds flickering desperately and the panicked breathing soon taking over. When Hermione remembers this moment it's the pain that surfaces first, then the panic, then the horror of her memories, but it takes so, so long for the memories to crawl out and be more than just echoed sounds.

Then there are visions, flashes of a face bearing into her own, whispering to her and a wand moving in front of her eyes, the sound of a curse echoing around her body as she screams with the pain, twitching. Her vision swims, now, from the agony, even as she lies through her teeth - and she is lying, desperately, not expecting to be believed but relishing the fact that even now, when she's on her back on a cold floor with a witch trying to Crucio her to death, she can protect her best friends.

It doesn't take long for the other woman to come back and take over Hermione's light of sight completely, leaning close and shouting in her face even as she tries to bite back desperate sobs. It's almost impossible, not with the ravaging pain that's taking over her, and it's not until the woman moves to the side and jerks forward, body twitching as she does something out of Hermione's vision but she still screams, body lurching and everything twisting as she tries to get away.

Everything is burning pain and agony and there's nothing she can do but breathe and try to keep going, despite her tears, desperate sobs that overtake the entire nightmare. The one word that echoes, over and over, is Mudblood; mudblood, mudblood, each hiss like a stab to her heart and another cut to her body.

Eventually, finally, the screaming is over, her voice is hoarse, and she's left just... Staring. Her gaze is a little fuzzy and distant, a little lost, and her hands twitch a little, her body readjusting to it's pain threshold being pushed too far, too fast, pulling all her energy out of her and leaving her worse for it. Eventually there are more whispered shouts behind her and a hand lifts, grabbing her, a knife pressed to her throat and her best friends in front of her, their lives on the line again and she'd failed --

and then she wakes up. ]

ADDED ABOUT AN HOUR LATER, text;

I don't suppose there's any way to get rid of this, is there? I'm sorry for anyone who had to see that. I'm truly sorry.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

I don't know. Is there? Some people like to talk about it. Some don't. I'm not going to shove some armchair psychobabble at you, but I'm just letting you know if you WANT to talk, you can. I've been through some stuff too. I get it.

It's. That word. I'm proud of who I am but that word, remembering who put it there and why... I don't know if I can sleep again, not for a while. That's all.

What? The mudblood thing? Is that another wizard word like muggle? Why do I have a feeling it's not a good thing? You can come over. If you want. I think I can make the little flying jerks in my room get some tea.

It means dirty blood. Lesser blood. It's a slur, it's implying that people that are muggleborn don't deserve their magic, that they're disgusting, that they're dirty or wrong. People accused us of stealing magic, of being thieves. It's not a good thing.

Could it be lemon and ginger?

I have two words for whoever uses that, then, and they start with F and U. No, wait. Y. Let me see.

[There's a pause between messages, then he sends another.]

At great expense to my safety and well being, I have gotten the message across and they're going to make a pot of it. Want some pie or cookies or something. Sweet sometime help.

Lots of people used it. There was a war that stemmed from it, a war I fought in. That's why I was taken by her. That's why she did. That.

I'm on my way now. I might take a bit longer - I have to apparate, but I'll be there soon.

You really have to teach me how to do that. Then I can show up with tea and stuff. I'm in my workroom. Just come on in.

Thank you, Stiles. We can work on it sometime this week, maybe, before we think about Animaguses.

Magic talk later. Consoling now. I'm in console mode. Get your witchy butt over here.

My 'witchy butt' is on it's way.

My door's unlocked. See you here =)

[ It doesn't take her long to get there, really. Not considering. She takes her time to be comforted by Legolas, to enjoy his company, before she forces herself back into a state of less than broken and apparates home to Caer Glaem, heading straight up to where she knows the workshop is. It dakes her a little while and she moves, opening the door with a little knock on the wood, just to announce herself. ]

Stiles?

[He looks up from where he'd been reading something, getting up and coming over with arms wide in invitation. For a hug? Maybe. But mostly just to invite her into the room in general. He's not in his cloak, just rocking the plaid shirt and jeans look, but there's a tray to the side with a pot of tea and two mugs set down on it and he gestures over to it.]

Hey there, witchy boo. Look, you made it all in one piece. That is so nifty. Gotta learn that. But, comfort first. Does someone want a Stilinski hug? Huh? Because I can offer that. Right here. Fresh Stilinski.

[ She smiles, not even reluctantly, actually being sharply reminded of Ron and how silly and charming he could be when he was attempting to be a comfort. She steps over without saying anything, wrapping her arms around him and letting herself be embraced -- she's always been a comfort hugger, a hand-holder, and this is something she needs. These are her friends and they're comforting her, she can accept that. ]

Thank you, Stiles. Do I get to give you a silly nickname now?

[He's quick to wrap long arms around her, hand resting on her back and patting lightly. He doesn't get to hug the gentler gender very often, but Stiles is also a bug hugger for those that he cares about who need it. Or when he needs it. Hermione definitely looks like she needs it and he's happy to provide.

He laughs a little at the question, shrugging before he lets his hands slide free.]

Kind of figured my name was silly enough. But hey, if you've got something else in your cauldron, drop it on me.

[ She squeezes into the hug, letting herself be comforted, before she slides back and leans out of it. She needed it, it's true, and she appreciates the fact that he was more than willing to do it and take care of her. It was times like this that she was a little frustrated that Harry was so far away, even if he was within apparation distance. ]

I don't know if Stiles is any sillier than Hermione... [ She's smiling, though, feeling better already. ] I wonder what would match 'Witchy Boo'.

I'll admit, Hermione is kind of a mouthful. But hey, at least it's your legal name, right? Stiles is already a nickname, so, feel free to come up with another one. Might have a hard time finding anything quite as awesome as Witchy Boo. That just suits you. Maybe Master of the Universe? I like that one. You can go with that one.

[If there was one thing Stiles was good at, it was running his mouth. He gave her arms a pat as she moved out of the hug, following it with a smile as he went to go pour her a cup of tea.]

I wasn't sure what to get you for a dessert, so I figured you could just ask them yourself if you wanted something.

[Them being the two pixies that fluttered down from the top of one of the bookshelves, coming over and hovering in front of her with little sympathetic looks on their tiny faces.]

Ron and Harry used to call me 'Mione, sometimes. It was a little easier than spouting the entire thing, especially if they were in a mood with me. I'll let you keep that one, though, just because it's you.

[ She goes with him, moving and settling down with the tea, lifting it to her mouth and just... Sipping. She can focus on that, on pulling the threads of herself back together, for as long as she can. ]

I'm fine for now, thank you - all of you. [ She smiles at the pixies, trying to look happier. ]

Maybe I'll call you 'prat' and cut to the chase?

I guess Hermy's off the table then, huh?

[He's not pouring a cup for himself because eww, tea, but he'll sit down across from her and offer her an ear for chatting, if she wants.]

Is that like British for brat? Because I'm offended. Highly. I'm way beyond my brat stage. I'm leaning more into being a jerk, I think.

Definitely off the table. I haven't been called that since I was five.

[ And, no, she hadn't appreciated it then either. Still, she is rather pleased with the tea and she tries not to look as smirk-y as she's sure she is. ]

Maybe a litte, but it's a term of endearment. Promise.

Mmhmm. Well, hey, if that's what you want to call me, it's better than some of the other things I've been called. Prat away, Witchy Boo.

[A wide grin followed that and he sat back, arms draped over the chair as he looked at her. Well, she looked better than she had right after she'd gotten here and he could only imagine what she'd looked like after the memory. Maybe he was doing his job right.]

[ Stiles is almost lucky that she's come here after seeing Legolas; she was in a far worse state then, barely able to keep herself together. At least now she can pretend she isn't hurting as much as she actually is. ]

Prat it is, then. Maybe Wizzy Prat...

Nope, no. No way. Entirely wrong. Totally doesn't roll off the tongue like Witchy Boo does. I'm going to guess you're not used to giving people nicknames.

Not really. I didn't have that many friends to give nicknames to.

No? Why not? You don't really seem like the, ah, bitchy type to me.

[In fact, she was downright chummy, having been more than informative when they'd first talked and she'd been helping him along with a few tweaks to things. Who couldn't like her?]

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