When the Butterflies Fly Home

She was awake but she couldn't bear to open her eyes.

She was alive but just barely, her soul lay crushed, her resistance lay breached, her mind battered.

It was hopeless.

It was all just…. Hopeless.

That is the worst feeling in the world, knowing that you are causing harm but you can do nothing to prevent it.

The blood stained her fingers, spreading over her pale hands like water. She scrubbed but it wouldn't come off.

She shrieked, she howled, but it wouldn't wash off.

HELP ME! SOME ONE PLEASE!

No one was there to listen… no one was there to help

They cackled all around her, the sounds of death and the cries of the tormented souls. They knew it was her fault that they were dead.

WHORE, BITCH, DISGUSTING CUNT! They shrieked at her, SLUT, FILTH, SLAVE all your fault!

She was filth, her clothes were stained with the endless gushing crimson blood of men and women who sacrificed themselves for her.

Blank white eyed children taunted her, women with streaming hair cursed and threw rocks at her.

Men advanced towards her, WHORE they yelled, we will treat you like the SLUT you are.

There was no one there to stop them, no one there to help her.

She couldn't escape…

She didn't want to escape…

This was her penance….

Her payment….

Her salvation….

….

Hermione woke crying silent tears, her body was soaked through with sweat and her hair was tangled into snarls of knots. The mirror across the room reflected her puffy, swollen face.

Whore, whore, whore the voices of the dead still chanted in her ears… fading from the piercing screams to taunting whispers.

Today was the day …

Today was the day….

…..

He strapped on his armor.

Today was the day…

Today was the day…

….

She dressed like a marionette.

Her movement's automatic, in a dreamlike state. Her hands brushing the little bump that was her babe.

Forgive me mother, for I have sinned.

I am leading men to their death

….

Chariots carrying men and women trundled past Hermione.

"Why are do you look so gloomy, my dear?" the handsome man beside her asked with faux gentleness, his thumb caressing the delicate skin of her inner wrist. The contact of his skin with hers caused shivers of unease to run up Hermione's back.

"You must smile, you are the guest of honor!" he said with a sinister smile, "The most important person today!"

She nodded mutely and turned her head the other way.

As the massive Arena came into view, Hermione felt her insides quiver in a mixture of pain and anticipation.

A hand on her elbow guided her out of the chariot and towards the steps Coliseum, she could hear the polite chit-chat of the aristocrats and the high-ranking military officers behind her, they were curious about her. Wanted to know who she was, it was not unusual for a man to bring his mistress to an event like this. It was considered below a lady's status to enjoy the blood and gore that went on in the Arena, men were supposed to be carnal by nature; therefore they enjoyed the death and destruction.

Hermione floated along in a haze unaware of the confusion around her. Until someone jerked her arm in panic, Hermione turned her amber eyes onto Caesar. Shocked to see his face brimming with fear.

He jerked her wrist, all pretense of kindness evaporating as he muttered under his breath. Hermione took the time to look around her, in the throng of spectator's men and women dressed in full battle regalia stalked in a methodical line towards the throne that sat at the highest point of the Arena, surrounding it. Apparently, he had underestimated the rebels, they were moving faster than anticipated and their numbers too were larger than once believed.

The dark haired dictator's guards drew out their weapons as they tried to move their master as inconspicuously as possible. The public had not yet noticed the warriors, so caught up in their excitement were they but Caesar who had been watching for them caught sight of them immediately. They hadn't seen her yet but she could make out their watchful eyes scanning the crowds.

"Could I have your attention please?" rang out a loud voice, amplified by the little pores of the walls of the Coliseum.

Men and women stopped moving, looking down at the sandy battle ground in the center of the Arena.

A lone woman with golden hair stood poised with her arms outstretched, her lovely pale skin glinted in the hot afternoon sun, she wore white silk that bared her arms and part of her legs, a gold collar bejeweled in rubies circled her throat and a circlet of gold sat atop a nest of perfect coppery, golden curls.

Wide cat eyes glinted maliciously, with a hint of triumph regarded the still people. No one had recovered from their shocked yet. Her vicious eyes danced lightly from face to face until they landed on Hermione's taut expression, a smirk unfurled across the angel face.

"No…" came a strangled voice behind her, "No this is not possible." And before she could turn Hermione felt a sharp pain begin at her spine and traverse up her back.

Her hands pressed into her abdomen and came back wet in deep red. In the shock and confusion, Caesar slipped away from her, as she watched in mute horror as the front of her white Stola began to unfurl like a flower in deep scarlet.

The crush of people around her muffled her moan of pain, unable to stand she fell forward, her eyes shutting for the final time.

….

Caesar wiped the bloody knife against his Toga as he hurried to get away from the Arena, his men were slaughtered he was sure. There was no other way that the rebels would have gained access to the Arena. He had misjudged them gravely but before he could form another coherent thought he felt the prick of an arrow pierce his chest…

Turning his horrified eyes onto the archer he barely whispered out his last words…

"Et tu Draconis…"

…..

The blond man walked away, his back stiff and his carriage proud, feeling the warmth of burning flames lick and caress his back.

…The End…

Thank you all for travelling this journey with me, I assure you I couldn't have done it without you. I know most of you would be disappointed with the ending but there was no other way I could have ended this story. I have agonized over it for the past week before I wrote this chapter. I'm afraid Hermione and Draconis's story was just not strong enough for me to save her, their bond was not enough. Like I said the characters often guide me and I must say I very much like this Hermione and I wanted her to die honor… not having submitted to anyone. This story has been very special to me and I feel that the ending unjust as it was, was apt.

Please know that without your support and help this story could never have taken off as it did. Hermione died the death of the brave and Draconis was redeemed. The ending is open for interpretation. So please take it as you will…

Also as this story draws to a close I will begin on When a God Loves a Commoner. It has been a long time since I worked on that story but I feel very pumped about it.

Also a very merry Christmas to you all and Happy new year. Also my birthday is around the corner so I would love it if someone would do a Dramione one shot for me