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The Bittersweet Taste of Victory	By : Nerys Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Hermione/Voldemort Views: 37648 -:- Recommendations : 2 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 11
- 12
- 13
The Bittersweet Taste of Victory

Did I disappoint you or let you down?

Should I be feeling guilty or let the judges frown?

'Cause I saw the end before we'd begun,

Yes I saw you were blinded and I knew I had won.

So I took what's mine by eternal right.

Took your soul out into the night.

You touched my heart you touched my soul.

You changed my life and all my goals.

And love is blind and that I knew when,

My heart was blinded by you.

I've kissed your lips and held your head.

Shared your dreams and shared your bed.

I know you well, I know your smell.

I've been addicted to you.

And I still hold your hand in mine.

In mine when I'm asleep.

And I will bear my soul in time,

When I'm kneeling at your feet.

Goodbye my lover.

Goodbye my friend.

You have been the one.

You have been the one for me.

I'm so hollow, baby, I'm so hollow.

I'm so, I'm so, I'm so hollow

James Blunt, Goodbye my lover.

Chapter twelve

The world is swirling as I feel him push my magic back inside of me. I am trying with all my might to stay conscious; to not pass out from the pain. It's horrific when your own magic gets pulled out of you. I can't even begin to describe the sensation. But even its return does not alleviate the painful symptoms its retraction caused. I can't even stand up straight at this moment. However, Voldemort is holding me so tightly, that I am not lying on the floor in a foetal position. I close my eyes and lean back against him. I need to focus, to overcome these effects. He unleashes one of his arms around my waist. And I brace myself for the inevitable impact with the floor. But instead of him dropping me, he caresses my face gently and I hear the vilest words anyone has ever spoken to me in such a soft manner.

'Don't worry, Hermione. You're going to be fine. I will take very good care of you.'

And I know he is never, ever going to let me go, not after that exhibit of magical force he just showed me. Our combined magic provides him with the means to Apparate right through the Hogwarts' Wards! Something that is supposedly impossible. And this is only the beginning, just a little experiment. God only knows what he can do once he truly masters this new found ability. And I am exhausted, drained of all my energy. His restoration of the magic inside of me isn't doing the trick. The world is still spinning and I feel I am on the brink of collapsing. Suddenly, he lifts me up like I am a feather, which I assure you I am not. My head falls on his shoulder and I see a pair of crimson eyes watch me wary before everything turns black again.

It's already dark when I open my eyes again. Eerie shadows dance upon the cracked wooden ceiling my eyes fall upon. The flickering lighting comes from the flames of the torches that hang in various shaped brackets along the wall of the room he has brought me too. Everything in this building seems old and derelict. Except for the bed I am lying in. I get the distinct feeling Voldemort conjured it when I was unconscious. Still, the softness of the bed does not cover up the fact that I feel utterly dreadful. Every muscle in my body is protesting, like I ran a marathon yesterday without the proper training in advance. Needless to say I feel tremendously tired. I turn my head around slowly to check my surroundings further, a bit worried that any movement may enhance the pain I am currently feeling.

Unfortunately, Lord Voldemort hasn't miraculously disappeared, while I was out cold. He is standing in front of the partially boarded window, staring outside to something, though I can't help but wonder if he actually is seeing what is really out there. He seems very much caught up in his own mind. I think we're still at the place he Apparated us to, though I have no idea where we are.

'My late father's mansion in Little Hangleton,' he answers my unspoken question shortly, spooking the living daylights out of me.

And as he swirls around, his black robes swaying elegant around him from the movement, I wonder why on earth I ever felt intimidated by Professor Snape. It isn't even the strange inhuman snakelike features, which mark his appearance, that are responsible for the distinct impression Lord Voldemort leaves on others. It's his posture; the manner in which he holds himself that dictates the fear and awes his presence commands. Well, there is that, and then, there is his eerie ability to stare straight into your very being. All this combined with the knowledge of what the man is capable off, makes him without a doubt the most dangerous and feared wizard of all time. And that wizard is now slowly gliding towards me.

I plant my hands in the mattress and manage to push myself in a more or less seated position against the headboard. The pillow my head was resting on is now crumbled up behind me in a rather uncomfortable manner, but what is even more disturbing is Voldemort, who has arrived beside the bed and is gazing down on me with a peculiar glint in his eyes. A lazy flick of his wand removes the sheet and blankets that only partly covered me up. His eyes meticulously take in my appearance and I realise that I am not wearing my clothes anymore, but a rather thin, silk, black nighty that he must have slipped on me while I was out. It's a bit too short and revealing for my taste, but there is not much I can do about that right now.

As I look up to him he takes a hold of my face, and in an ever so calm and collective manner he seats himself on the bed before me. Once again I am reminded how very tall he is and how bloody short I am, because he towers above me even though we are seated at equal height. I feel my chest constricting and my breath hitches in my throat as his other hand comes to rest on my leg. I tense up considerably. This is one of those fight or flight moments. However, I am incapable of doing both and I remain frozen at the scene; silent.

'I have rendered your magic back to you, but you have not reverted back to your previous condition,' Voldemort concludes. 'Where does it hurt?'

I blink. Yeah, right, like I am going to donate that information freely. Just exactly how stupid does he think I am? He smiles for a moment and then his hand leaves my leg and joins his other at my head. And as his long, spidery fingers softly roam through my hair, he closes his eyes. His wand, perhaps, I can…

But a massive bolt of energy strikes me as his hands swiftly move down and come to rest on my shoulders. I gasp; my eyes widen; my legs bend; and my hands clench on to the sheet that covers the mattress, while I slowly sink back further. It feels like he is pushing me down, though I can tell his hands aren't pressing on to me. It's the sheer force of the strange energy that he is channelling through me, that is forcing me to drop further down, back into a semi lying position. But as it travels past the painful areas of my body it almost seems to pull the pain away and I feel rejuvenated when he is done. The only thing that remains pounding is my head now. He opens his eyes again and gazes at me with those slit-shaped pupils.

'Better?' he enquires, while his hands are resting on my shoulders.

I merely nod in astonishment.

'Close your eyes,' he orders.

I do as he says. It's not like I have much of a choice here. I shiver as a small breeze brushes my exposed skin. This house really is draughty.

'Cold, honey?' he whispers rhetorically and his hands take a hold of my head again.

A slightly different jolt flows through my throbbing mind and the pounding slowly diminishes. A soft blow of his breath on the skin of my neck makes me tremble and the coldness that instills my body dissipates. It's when I realise he is too close for comfort, but only my mind is thinking that, my body is telling me otherwise. He tilts my head slightly and I feel his lips brush mine. Briefly, he hovers there, teasing me with his presence, before capturing me in a passionate kiss. I can feel his tongue demanding entry and I comply with his wishes.

A part of me is screaming at me to push him away, to fight, and to remember who is kissing me so very deliciously. Only another, far more vocal, part is edging me on, making me quiver at his touch and telling me to forget and enjoy the moment. His hands leave my head and start to investigate my body. It feels like he is everywhere at once, when his left arm wraps around my back and pulls me down completely. I open my eyes when I feel his weight coming down on me. A distinctive hunger is ever so evident in his features and a victorious, predatory glint darts through his eyes as I move my hands to touch his pale face. I am certain that it would glow in the dark so bright is his extreme white complexion. In a trance-like state I caress his bald head, before moving down to his body, which is still annoyingly covered by his robes. And as I fiddle on the damn buttons that are hidden underneath layers of thin, soft fabric, he circles my tongue with his, ravishing my mouth in a manner that seals his hold over me, before moving on to different ground. A soft whisper in my ear tells me to stop fooling around with the buttons.

'Use your magic, dear. Here, I'll guide you,' he says.

I close my eyes and he guides me to allow my magic to undress him. 'Yessss,' he hisses, 'you're doing fine, Hermione.'

His hand takes a hold of my knee and bends my leg while pushing it to the side. He traces the inside of my thigh with the tip of his fingers and I shudder, while he barely touches me. A wave of his hand and his magic hits me between my legs where I am most vulnerable and I arch into him while groaning in delight. Our eyes meet and I see the triumph in his as I buck toward him.

'Do you want me inside of you, Hermione?' he asks smirking and simultaneously another brush of his magic hits me down there with a casual wave of his hand.

'Yes,' I moan, shaking from pleasure.

'Tell me; hon, was I your first?'

Another lazy gesture. 'Ooohh.'

And I feel like I am about to explode. My body aches and yearns for him. Every fibre of my being wishes he would stop fooling around and get on with it. But all he does is position himself at my entrance and tease me with his magic. 'Answer me, Hermione,' he demands.

I forgot what the question was.

Rough, he grabs a hold of my chin and pulls my attention to his face. 'Have you ever been with another man?'

There is a threatening undertone in his voice when he asks me that question. Almost like it is something you can answer wrong. 'No,' I answer truthfully. I never got around to it.

He stares into my eyes for a long time, and suddenly, when I no longer expect it to happen, he trusts inside of me with a gleeful snarl. My body arches to accommodate him and I try to grab a hold of him, but he captures my wrists and pushes my arms back into the mattress. It's surprising how someone who seems all skin and bones can be so strong. And I struggle for the release of my arms, but he merely smiles at my attempts and halts his movements; pinning me down with his body completely. God that man is a bloody tease. I growl out of frustration and he softly bites my earlobe.

'I like how you feel around me, Hermione,' he breathes into my ear. 'Only you are a bit too comfortable right now, wouldn't you agree, darling?'

Comfortable, he has gone nutters. My body aches and flinches in distress from the need it has to be thoroughly touched. And he is just lying there, buying his time, baiting me.

'Oh, but you are sweetheart. Let's do something about that, shall we? I believe you could be a little tighter around me.'

His eyes flash viciously at me and fear washes over me, when I feel my muscles contract at the command of his magic. He moves his mouth towards mine and whispers on my lips. 'Move with me, dear. Unless you like to hurt yourself.'

And he starts trusting back and forth inside of me in a dilatory manner. I know he will damage me severely if I don't move with him. So I wrap my legs around his back to prevent him from exiting, as I desperately try to keep up with his rhythm. He is purposely not keeping a steady pace, making it impossible for me to follow continuously, and as he rocks inside of me, I cry out in a mixture of pain and delight. After a while, he picks up the pace and I can no longer keep up even a little bit. So I close my eyes, stop my attempts at gaining some control of the situation and surrender myself to his mercy.

'Yesss,' he hisses at my submission and he finally takes pity on me and pushes me over the crest of the wave he has held me on for so long. An unearthly scream leaves my mouth when the full impact of my release makes its way through me, while he snarls my name upon his own completion. He drops beside me in the bed and I hear him pant as heavily as I do. I am exhausted, soar and I know I am bleeding relentlessly, but I feel thoroughly satisfied.

It's when his magic strikes me again and I notice how he stops the bleeding and is healing me. He slowly leans over me, pulls me backwards against his chest and holds me in his arms while his magic washes over me.

'Sleep, Hermione,' he quietly says, 'you need to gather your strength. I've got so much to teach you.'

I am a bit tired when I wake the next morning even though I slept in considerably. Voldemort isn't there anymore. Maybe he suddenly realised he did it again with a Mudblood and went on to drop himself of the nearest cliff out of shame. Well, a girl can dream, can't she? I crawl out of bed and put on my robes that are lying neatly folded on top of the dresser. My wand, however, is conveniently absent.

The sun peeps through the cracks of the wood that cover the window and curiously, I walk over and glance outside. The view is magnificent. The house is standing on top of a hill and is overlooking the wildly overgrown grounds and the almost Dickens-like village below. A small church and its churchyard are partly visible, when I realise that is the place he had Wormtail kill Cedric and used Harry to resurrect himself. Somehow knowing that diminishes the charm of the view completely and I walk to the door of the bedroom.

Upon grabbing a hold of the doorknob I turn it, not really expecting the door to open, but it does. I'm baffled by this strange occurrence, but I don't linger on it and proceed onward. The wooden floorboards crack underneath my weight, but it remains silent in the house, like it is empty and abandoned again. I walk down the stairs slowly, expecting Voldemort to pop up out of nowhere any second now, when I realise it also feels empty to me. I don't sense him anywhere. OK, this is too weird.

I walk to the front door and open it. There isn't a single ward set in place preventing me to leave. OK, scratch the weird part and enter insulting. Does he really think that just because I shagged him last night, I have suddenly become his devoted servant? Pffttt… Maybe our magic makes me have these minor lapses in judgement around him, but that doesn't mean I have forgotten everything and gone completely bananas. Merlin and his little "I-Can-Sense-Your-Magic-Everywhere" theory can go straight to hell. I swirl out the door and pace down the garden path. Feel free to use a Hogsmeade Apparation Portal to return to Hogwarts, Riddle. I am so out of here, wand or no wand.

'Going somewhere?'

'Argghh,' I growl frustrated upon hearing that taunting question and I swirl around.

He is standing there, his black robes waving softly in the wind, and he seems ever so comfortable with the situation. His arms are folded over each other and his head is tilted slightly, while he is leaning in a casual manner against an old yew tree with his shoulder. He is clearly enjoying himself a lot and it is aggravating the crap out of me. I plant my hands on my hips and glare at him furiously.

'Not happy to see me?' he teasingly asks. 'And here I was under the impression that you kind of liked having me around.'

'Well, then you were mistaken,' I snarl.

He sends me a mocking smile and he starts making disapproving clicking noises with his tongue, while pushing himself away from the tree. 'Trying to fool yourself, darling?' he softly states as he slowly strides toward me. 'You see I have this very fond memory of last night when you practically begged me to become very intimately close to you.'

'Now, who is trying to fool himself?' I spat. 'You know perfectly well last night meant nothing or did you skip those sections in Merlin's book?'

'Oh … I read those sections, Hermione, but did you? Or maybe you read it, but didn't quite understand the true meaning of Merlin's words, because you had to miss out on access to more valuable sources of information?'

I narrow my eyes at his condescending tone, but he merely laughs at me. 'Shall I explain it to you properly?'

'Don't bother,' I hiss and he raises his eyebrows, while strolling in my direction. I fold my own arms over each other and match his condescending tone perfectly. 'I am perfectly aware that a person's magic is controlled by his or hers Central Nervous System. Any performance of magic is guided through your neural pathways. Hence our magical compatibility is a physical attribute that affects other bodily functions that are guided by your nerves as well, making the unfortunate events of last night very easily explanatory.'

'Really?' he says smiling and he halts inches away from me.

'Yeah, really,' I sneer, 'it's only the magical compatibility that provides physical compatibility, which explains the physical attraction when we get too close, as right now. So you may want to remove yourself a bit further.'

A short laugh greets my rather perky statement and his hand reaches out to caress my cheek.

'True, that's Merlin's explanation, but there is so much more to it, Hermione,' he says quietly, 'after all, you did share your body with me willingly last night or do you deny that?'

'It was only sex. It means nothing,' I say defiantly, but a small string of doubt is beginning to form in mind, because he is eyeing me far too victoriously. Still, I don't recall anything in Merlin's writings that will put me in trouble over what happened last night. He's probably just toying with me. Yes, that has to be it.

Voldemort has moved his hand to my shoulder and is now slowly strolling around me, while leaving his arm in place. Finally, he stops behind me and he pulls me toward him. Our extensive contact makes the magic inside of me jump with joy, but unlike last night I am able to remain clearheaded. I am certain it was no big deal. It is just an unconditioned physical response. A reflex, that's what Merlin compared it to. It means nothing.

'I am afraid you are misinformed, dear,' he whispers in my ear. 'It means everything. Especially, since I am the only man who has ever taken you. But I suppose I can't blame you for not knowing this, since the Dark Arts weren't thoroughly taught during the days you attended Hogwarts. You really should have nicked some of the other banned books too, beside Secrets of the Darkest Art. It may have made you aware beforehand of what you so generously donated me yesterday. Would you like me to enlighten you?'

And he is clearly snickering at my expense now. I can practically feel his pleasure and my heart turns heavy. Please, don't let me have missed something that can worsen this situation. I've got enough on my plate as it is. His crimson eyes gaze down on me and he places his hand around my neck and pushes me into him further. My head leans slightly over his shoulder as he presses his fingers lightly down on the arteries that supply my brain with oxygen. I can feel the pulse of my blood against his fingertips and it is beginning to speed up.

'Hmm… are you finally getting worried, Hermione?' Voldemort says calmly. 'You must know I don't make idle statements or threats. I always have something to back them up with. And in your case that something is so wonderful. Can't you feel how my mere touch affects you now? The power you granted me?'

And his magic soars through me, almost knocking me out completely, but now I know he is bluffing.

'You already did this to me yesterday. Nothing has changed,' I state certain.

He kisses me on the cheek. 'Everything has changed, darling. You've lost. Yesterday, you could have returned the favour the moment I let my guard down. Now … you no longer can.'

I momentarily stop breathing upon that statement. 'What?' I blurt out stupidly and he kisses me again.

'In Merlin's days, they had a rather narrowed view on humans. Mind, magic and body were seen as thoroughly separate entities. Merlin already made an exceptional step forward by acknowledging that a person's magic is coming from within his or hers' body. Therefore explaining the physical attraction he had with Viviane. Only he started rambling on love and other silly notions and failed to understand the power of the mind in matters such as these. It is your mind that is responsible for the control of your magic and body, but your mind counts on the independence of the other two. The power of three is hard to break, but last night you handed me one of those willingly. You freely gave me, and only me, your body. An intricate part of who you are. And without your body being your own, your mind can not break the hold I have over your magic. So thank you for handing me the very essence of your being last night. I'm truly sorry to disappoint you, but our having sex wasn't just physical. It was so much more.'

'Oh Merlin, no,' I think as I close my eyes in desperation. There has to be a loophole. Something he misjudged. I can't have made such a huge mistake. I just can't. There has to be a way out of this for me. Some way I can survive this.

'But there is, dear,' he whispers in response to my unspoken question and I realise he has used his considerable Leglimency skills to get into the only place that is, apparently, still my own. He is inside my mind.

'Join me, Hermione. Join me and I will show you a form of magic that is greater than anything else in the world. Join me and I will teach you everything I know. Join me and I will grant you more power than you've ever held before and more than anyone else will ever have. Join me and I will set you free.'

'If I join you, I will never be free.'

'An understandable, yet erroneous conclusion; the truth is you'll never be free, if you won't join me.'

'Not interested,' I say stubborn.

'I think you are. You've been denying yourself to grow beyond the mediocre; holding yourself back on silly notions of right and wrong, good and bad, but the world isn't just black and white, is it? There are lots of beautiful grey colours. You only need to want to see them. Notice them Hermione, and become the extra-ordinary witch I know you can be.'

And I don't know why I do it. I got Crucio-ed several times because of my responses yesterday. I am very much aware of the fact that I have no means to defend myself, and normally, I am must smarter than this. I really ought to be thinking before acting, but somehow, he is so annoyingly present and I absolutely want to wipe that infuriating, triumphant smirk of his face.

'Your manipulative mind games won't work on me, Tom Riddle,' I say risky.

I am positive that using his real name shall do the trick and remove that pleased expression permanently. I am right. I am also right about it not being the smartest move I ever made. He extracts every last shred of magic from me and I cry out in sever pain, while he Apparates us back to his quarters in Hogwarts. Unlike before he does not help me, but leaves me crawling in distress and despair on the floor, while he goes about his business, watching me ever so coldly from the corner of his eyes for hours, until I am exhausted and can no longer move, for I feel nothing anymore. I am certain I am about to die, when he, suddenly, comes back into view and towers above me.

A casual gesture of his hand makes my magic flow back inside of me and I can breathe again. Only the pain returns with a vengeance upon his restoration of my magic. He walks away as I scream my lungs out yet again, and a second later, the room goes silent for he used a Silencing Charm on me. I try any posture I can think of to ease the pain, but nothing helps and I lie there in more agony than I've ever known in my life, as the sun slowly begins to set on the horizon. And my mind begs to him to stop, to please help me. I may not be able to make a sound, but I know he can hear me. I tell him I can't take this anymore, but he is rubbing it in.

Finally, when the candles need lighting and it has turned thoroughly dark outside, Lord Voldemort returns to tower above me and he gazes down on my still, sore figure coldly. I feel sick with myself as I stare at him, pleading. And as he stands there beside me, I am hoping he will, at last, release me of this ordeal. A vile smile graces his marble white face and I see his red eyes flash in delight upon seeing my tormented state of being glare at him hopefully.

Oh Merlin, he is not done yet. And I feel my levels of fear rise beyond my wildest dreams. What more can he possibly do to me? Locking my eyes with his gaze, he mentally tells me what he wants from me and undoes the Silencing Charm. And I need this to end now, so I comply. I roll my strenuous body over on my stomach and crawl toward him on all fours.

'Please forgive me, my Lord and Master,' I whisper and I kiss the hem of his robes, feeling utterly revolted with myself.

Several seconds pass as I am lying there before him, when a mere flash of his wand ends my misery and I slip into a delicious state of unconsciousness.

A warm prickling streak of sunlight is what wakes me. I blink several times before realising it is morning again and I have awoken in a tiresome state as usual. His arms are possessively wrapped around me and I feel the warmth of his body against my back. When he first pulled me in his bed at Hogwarts like this, I thought he was going to force himself on me, but he didn't. He has made no attempt to take me after that night in the Riddle Mansion, when I willingly had sex with him and suffered the dire consequences of it.

So I figured he held me in his arms to unnerve me, to get me to fold. But it didn't take me long to notice there is much more to it. For I always wake extremely tired and he always jumps out of bed with tremendous ease and spirit. Gosh, I truly hate morning people and I have been rooting for some cat to do something about this particular early bird, but alas… nothing has come to pass, yet. Anyway, my tiredness and his liveliness made me realise that by holding me while I sleep, he somehow extracts magical energy from me. I don't quite understand how though and much to my own annoyance I also have no idea how to block it either.

I look at the calendar that hangs on the wall. It's September the first. Today the students will arrive and another year at Hogwarts will begin once more. I find it hard to believe I've been his prisoner for more than a month now, but it is what it is and it doesn't look like the end of this horror is coming to a close soon. Lord Voldemort has tortured me to an extend I did not even dream was possible and there were many times I prayed for some form of escape, whether it was death or slipping into insanity. I didn't care either way. But he is not that unskilful, nor makes emotional errors like that around me. I tried though. I called him Tom Riddle again, hoping to infuriate him beyond reason, when I knew I was almost on the brink of losing my mind, but he didn't swallow the bait. He merely laughed in my face at what he called a foolish attempt of me trying to escape him.

'I will never let you go, Hermione, never.'

I still hear him speak those words right before he made me pay tremendously in a manner that did not harm me irreversibly. I haven't used his given name after that ever again. And since he obviously wasn't going to do me the pleasure of killing me, I tried killing myself. I stopped eating. At first he glanced at me amusedly, when I didn't touch my plate. He would have the House-elves deliver me food that smelled incredibly delicious and it was very difficult to refrain from taking a bite to eat when my stomach growled in protest, but Voldemort did nothing while I got weaker and weaker.

Until one evening when he, apparently, was fed up with my display of defiance. He pulled me on his lap and immobilised my body to spoon-feed me an entire meal meticulously. It was one of the most humiliating experiences of a lifetime and after he was done he warned me that, if I wasn't going to eat on my own from now on, he would have to entertain some dinner guests the next time he was going to feed me. The idea of Lucius Malfoy witnessing me being fed like a baby pretty much turned my stomach and I started eating again.

Besides the physical torture Lord Voldemort would test my mental restraint by targeting my weaknesses and insecurities, which he found out about during his extensive excursions into my mind. I haven't been able to pull any decent form of mind block in place anymore and he has attacked my mind and entered it so many times that I doubt there is a single thing about me that still remains a secret from him.

Fortunately, I partly Obliviated myself. So my parents and the Amulet of Aine continue to be beyond his reach. I know they are the reason he keeps on using Leglimency to force his way into my mind, but I relish in the fact that it has turned a useless endeavour. He can't find what isn't there. And every time he tries and throws a fit after another failed attempt, I enjoy a little victory over him once more.

But then, there is his other, quite different strategy. It entails him promising me the world if I'll join him. Voldemort tries to bait me with knowledge and books he knows I have not read, due to their incredibly dark nature. He will lock me up in his library with no company for days and I have to admit I find it really hard not to grab one of the books on the shelves and start reading. It's by knowing, it is what he wants me to do, that I have been able to stop myself. At those moments, when he tries to pull me into his realm, he invigorates me with his magic and teases me severely by making my body grave his, while simultaneously denying me a release. He will allow me a taste of the power I can behold and then drain me of everything, until I am crawling on the floor begging for mercy.

I have to admit I prefer the much easier to resist physical torture over this strategy, because he can make it sound so logical and sane to give in. He makes it almost feel like it's the right thing to pledge my undying, unwavering devotion to him. And I need to hang on to every last shred of my memory and mind to not fall into the traps he so cleverly spins around me. I can thoroughly remember that one time when I almost surrendered. I was about to tell him he had won, that I would be his, when he swirled away, furiously.

And in his fury he let his mind wander and I heard him think that I am the utmost infuriating, stubbornness creature he ever had the misfortune to meet. It is the biggest favour he unwillingly did me, letting me know I am getting to him as well. It makes me realise there still is a chance, as long as I don't give in, there is still hope. If only I can turn the tables. If only I knew how Viviane broke Merlin's hold over her. If only I can get rid of him; if only…
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The Bittersweet Taste of Victory