No Fury

Now: Sixty Eight

A/N: Thank you for your patience during the holiday weekend! And *waves* to new readers! Thank you for your votes & comments, I really do love hearing from you guys! ~S.

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Almost immediately we begin to feel the grave chill of the room. Wind howls in through the cracks between the stones. Cold emanates up from beneath us. And everything feels too still.

Very quietly, Liam murmurs, "I'll fetch the undertaker. We'll . . . we'll move them."

With a roll in my stomach I turn, clutching the child to my chest as I make my way toward the door.  I have to step over Douglas to get there, and my heart is tied in knots while I carefully climb back down the winding staircase.

I can hear the fall of footsteps in my wake, Niall's quiet cough, and Catroina's nattering questions. I cannot filter her out, no matter how hard I try.

Who will take him?
I've got no room for an orphan.
I could offer him to Nell.
She's got four though.
Cannot imagine anyone wanting this one, eh?

"Catroina," Zayn hisses, but gently. "Hush, woman."

We reach the landing, and Harry places a hand on my back. "Do you want to lie down?"

I shake my head. "I need to get Anne."

But just then — I do not know what it is, or what happens to my body — I begin trembling violently and I can't stop. It begins right in my chest and radiates outward, jerking my limbs uncontrollably.

Panic is a fist around my beating heart, squeezing the air from my lungs.

My daughter.
My daughter.

I need her with me, immediately.

"Harry," I gasp. "I need her."

My teeth clack together, breaths leave my body in sharp splinters. Quickly, Harry takes the child out of my arms lest I drop him.

"Catroina," he says to the midwife, and she looks up at him with wide, dark eyes. "Speak of this to no one."

She pulls back just enough to approach disrespect. "I wouldn't dare."

"I am quite serious," Harry says quietly, rising to his full height. His words are so heavy with meaning that they carry easily in the space between us. "To speak of what you witnessed will be considered a betrayal."

"I am glad she is dead," Catroina answers, her chin raised. "I would have saved her only to—"

Harry winces, and then stops her with a small wave of his hand. "Leave us."

"The child . . ." she mumbles, pointing to the boy.

"Return home, Catroina," Harry growls, patience thinning. "We will decide what to do about the child. We are grateful for your help, but you must leave. Now."

Zayn steps forward in anticipation of escorting her, but with her shoulders hunched, Catroina scurries down the second set of stairs.

With a lingering, concerned glance at me, Harry turns and lifts his chin to Liam. "Will you fetch Anne from the cottage? I want Cath to lie down."

Without hesitation, all three men turn to follow these orders, but Harry stops them with a quiet, "Wait."

Turning expectantly, they gaze at him and then respectfully drop their attention to the floor.

"Before you go . . ." Harry begins in a quiet murmur, and then pauses. Lifting a hand, he rubs his face, and I can see beneath his fingers how pale he has grown.