Paradox | T. Riddle ✔

~•4.9•~

Eleanor was counting each hour and each day that passed by. She hadn't been there at the Dark Lord's hideout for long but she wanted to escape as soon as possible.

Every second that passed was no less than torture to her. She felt suffocated surrounded by all those people who looked at her as if she was beneath them, not a fellow Death Eater but a prisoner their Master had taken a twisted fancy to.

However, the person she dreaded crossing paths with even more than Voldemort himself was Bellatrix Lestrange. Ever since Eleanor had been brought to the hideout, Bellatrix constantly felt threatened by her presence.

She knew not what past existed between Voldemort and Eleanor but she could see the way he looked at her and how obsessed he had become with her. It made her anxious that his obsession could lead to Eleanor replacing her as a favorite of the Dark Lord.

It was the fourth day since Eleanor had been forced to give up her freedom for Regulus and Esmeralda's release and as time was passing in that horrible monotony of torture on repeat, her resilience was getting weaker. Each night was nothing short of hell for her and each day was the dreadful ticking of hours leading up to that wretched time when Lord Voldemort would show up to her room and torment her further.

She was slowly giving up.

And as the will to keep fighting was fading inside her, her temperament of always being fiery and a challenge for Riddle was starting to fade too. And he noticed that.

He now had her in his reach but it didn't give him the same satisfaction as earlier to see her struggling against him. The fiery Eleanor Troy he had been attracted to ever since the first day he had laid eyes on her was reduced to a broken puppet awaiting her end.

And that did not amuse him even a bit as compared to the past.

Torturing her was starting to lose its luster for him as well. She no longer reacted to anything he did to her and it had come to the point that it frustrated him.

Considering his nature, he should have thrown her away as she was no longer of any use to him. But if he threw her out, she would go back to Regulus and he couldn't stand the thought of it even.

If he couldn't have Eleanor's love then he would make sure that no one else would receive it either.

Especially not Regulus.

Even if it meant damaging her to the point of no recovery because for some reason he couldn't choose the easier option and kill her.

For some reason, he couldn't bring himself to cast the killing curse even though she died each night in his captivity from the torture she was put through.

He pushed open the door to her room and found her in bed though he had noticed she hadn't left the room for two days. He hadn't seen her during their daily meetings where all Death Eaters were supposed to be present, including her.

And right then as he entered, she had stiffened as if bracing herself for what was about to follow but didn't move an inch from her position. It was almost as if she was too exhausted to lift a single finger.

"Eleanor," he called out seeing that she was awake at least, her marble-green eyes looking up at the ceiling.

She no longer gave him any response so she didn't reply to him. But he still felt something was off with her.

His hand rested upon her forehead briefly, recoiling on sensing that she was burning up in fever. Her eyes were red from either exhaustion or shedding tears and her body temperature was much higher than usual.

"What happened?" He asked, hands trailing down to her cheeks which were just as hot, and then to her arms and shoulders, feeling that she was burning up all over. "How long have you been sick?"

She still gave no reply knowing that his concern was futile. If she was sick, it was due to him and if she died due to the sickness, at least she would be free from that constant torture.

He paused, having just read her thoughts. He knew that deep down she was in such a pitiful state because of him but for some reason, he had been justifying his actions all along with false excuses. Such as that she deserved to be tortured for what she did to him and that she chose that fate herself.

But deep down he knew it was wrong. Even if he wasn't using the killing curse on her, he was the one slowly killing her.

Quite like a poison that had seeped into her body and was infecting all her organs one by one, eventually subjecting her to a painful end.

But at the same time, he didn't want her to die which was quite a hypocrisy in itself.

He sighed and it was almost melancholic as if he was genuinely sad about the current predicament.

"I've hurt you so bad, haven't I?" At last, he spoke in a low voice, taking her hand in both of his, "but what choice do you leave me when even now all you think about is Regulus..."

Hearing his name from him made her eyes well up and she looked away, feebly trying to free her hand from his grip.

"Things could have been so different if you were someone I met in my time and not due to some time loop," he resumed, his eyes darkening slightly at the prospect, "we could have done such great things together... But sadly one can not have everything he wishes for in this life. You are everything I could have once wished for, Eleanor. But wishes seldom come true."

She was listening to him but knew that it was futile to think about what was impossible. They belonged to two separate times and their fate had entwined due to her mistake of using a time turner.

"That first time I had seen you at the Leaky Cauldron, I had wanted you to be mine and mine alone," his other hand curled at her soft brown hair, tugging out a strand to play with, "I wanted to own you... And that was why I did so many things to you that I shouldn't have. Maybe because I've never thought the way others do. Maybe because to me, owning something is making sure that no one else is able to take it away from me. Not even fate."

His words sent an uneasy chill down her spine. She knew exactly what he was capable of but still hearing things like that from him made her even more anxious for her future.

If she even had a future left.

"So I didn't want you to be taken away either," he sighed softly, concluding his explanation, "once I see what should be mine, I claim it and don't let go until there's nothing left."

She shuddered at his words, right then realizing how utterly helpless she was in that situation. He was definitely not going to let her go until she had faded away completely into a ghost of what she used to be. And perhaps even then he might detain her just for the reason of not letting anyone else ever get close to her.

"Don't overthink, love," his voice reached her and it seemed as if he had sensed her thoughts, "rest for now until you get better."

Her breath hitched in her throat as he leaned closer, serpentine red eyes locked upon her. But he didn't do anything except place a kiss on her forehead before pulling apart from her.

Her skin was still burning up and it didn't seem as if the fever would dissipate all by itself.

He let go of her hand but didn't leave the room, considering what to do. At that rate, she would die from weakness and the intensity of the fever.

"I'll send Narcissa in," he remarked, knowing the woman was good at making healing potions and would figure out some remedy for Eleanor's state, "she'll see to it that you get some medication."

Eleanor still didn't say anything, hoping he would just leave.

Sensing that, he did not stay for long, stepping out of the room at last. Once he was out, he sent for Narcissa Malfoy to check up on Eleanor.

***