Chapter Text
1992 August 7
“Elena, thank you again for coming,” The angular, black-haired girl looks with a smile at a beautiful blonde a little older than herself.
- I repeat. One life, he's an asshole, - The blonde flicks her nose. We'll have a drink on the weekend.
“Father won’t approve,” Joan sniffs.
We won't tell him. Saint Fred Fersday. It would be better to go to catch the eaters, - Elena hugs her friend.
- Can you stay? All the same, the clock is almost eleven in the evening, it is already dark. Lena, please, - that evening, Joan Fersday seemed to feel something and asked her friend to change her mind.
- Little one, close to me. Don't be afraid, my owl will fly to you in the morning. Cook cookies, - Elena goes down the stairs and turns around, waving to her friend.
After leaving Joe, Elena boldly walks home, singing some cheerful tune. Today turned out to be quite an interesting day: her birthday coincided with the breakup of Joan's relationship. Having finished her birthday cake, Morse rushed to comfort her friend.
Young Jo, who had just finished her fifth year at Hogwarts, always chose the wrong guys: either womanizers, or gamblers, and this time she even managed to contact Slytherins. Where the unlucky Miss Fairsday managed to find them, Elena did not know ...
The girl sighed and turned onto the street that led to her house. She could almost see her own windows, when suddenly someone approached her from behind and, before she had time to orient herself, brought a handkerchief with chloroform to her face.
***
The head ached, the body does not obey. Elena opens her eyes and sees that she is bound. Around it is a rich atmosphere, as if in a royal palace. The girl sees a long table at which magicians unknown to her are sitting. He tries to move but in vain.
“Look, our guest has woken up,” she hears a hoarse low voice. With horror, she looks at the tall, overweight man who sits at the head of the table. She knows who he is... Lewis Protheroe, one of the most fanatical death eaters.
“Bring her here,” Prothero gives the order and lures the bound Miss Morse with a spell.
The green eyes of the girl are full of fear. What will happen to her? Lewis's hand roughly lifts her chin.
“Beautiful,” the man growls and licks his lips. - And probably a virgin ... They have it in Gryffindor with this strictly.
“Let go,” Elena beeps. - I will not tell anyone.
The drunken laughter of the Death Eaters answered her. The girl looks at Lewis pleadingly.
“Don’t be afraid, Elena, if you’re submissive, I won’t hurt you,” the Dark Magician shamelessly crawls under her jacket. His touch is vulgar and vile. Elena turns away and looks at the table. Her gaze darts in horror over the plates of human flesh. She doesn't even look at Prothero's plate of fried babies...
- No! Let go! Elena starts to wriggle out of Lewis's arms. She loses her balance and falls on top of him. Trying to resist, she wraps her arms around his neck, as if hugging him.
- Rubbish! Lewis growls and pushes her away. The girl falls on the table and two of the devourers squeeze her hands with theirs. Prothero looms over her and points his wand...
— Lena! Lena! An excited cry cuts through the darkness of the nightmare. The woman opened her eyes. She's not there, she's not there...
- Open your eyes! You are at home, at home! An elderly, overweight man sat on the edge of her bed and stroked her hair. Miss Morse was breathing hard and wiping her cheeks from tears.
- Like this! Good girl! Come back to me! -Prothero kissed the corner of his beloved's mouth and hugged her.
“Lewis.” Elena clung to him and began to cry. - Again…
The blonde felt pain in her right side, in the place from which at one time Prothero cut out a small piece of flesh and ate it. As he then said, for testing. He did not like Miss Morse's meat and this unwittingly saved her life.
The woman touched her side and it stopped hurting. Taking a deep breath, she looked at Lewis and smiled faintly.
They lived together for almost two years and were happy. Ever since Elena confessed her love to the Wendigo King at the mansion, they have been inseparable. They were keenly interested in each other's lives and participated in them whenever possible. So Prothero was listed as a freelance employee of the Auror, Elena's assistant. This did not bother either Miss Morse herself or her friends. In 2 years, she was able to rise to the rank of Deputy Fred Fersday and now fiddled with papers more than participated in investigations.
As for the life of Lewis, sometimes Elena dined with his retinue in the mansion or danced at the Sabbaths. On them, she was just an observer. And of course she didn't tell her brother or anyone else about it.
And only one thing overshadowed their happiness: Lewis's absences to hunt at night. These were the nights Elena feared the most. After all, it was then that the nightmares returned, it was then that her past came to life and plunged its claws into her soul and heart.
- You need to see a psychologist! Lewis said when Elena finally calmed down. — How is it? John Flynn?
-Yes he. I didn't see him for almost 4 years. I thought I conquered the past,” Morse chuckled. - Stupid Muggle.
"Don't belittle yourself," Lewis kissed the top of her head. “My woman is a smart sorceress and she just needs help.
Elena hated to turn to anyone for help. She solved all her problems herself. But now she felt she needed to show herself to John.
***
“You look lousy,” Endeavor Morse, Elena’s younger brother, sat across from her and looked at the woman.
“The nightmares are back,” Elena mutters. Endeavor took a deep breath. He knew exactly how his sister felt now.
I'll book you in with Flynn. I think today at 5 o'clock. You need this meeting, - Morse took her hand.
- I know. There were no nightmares for almost 2 years. Ever since Lewis and I started dating. But in recent weeks they have resumed and become more realistic.” Morse sighed and sipped her coffee.
- Why? The brother was surprised. - What's happened?
- That's just the point that nothing. Everything is as usual ... But now they are so real, - Morse shivered.
Endeavor sighed. All the years of therapy, all their efforts, could not heal Elena. The young man was in despair. Even the love and warmth of Prothero could not defeat the Darkness of the past.
Do you think Flynn will help? Elena asked timidly, looking at her brother.
“I don’t believe expensive charlatans,” Lewis looked into the office. How long have you been treated by him?
- from 25, - Elena stood up and kissed her beloved. - Hello.
-Listen, is Deadpool considered a superhero? Lewis hugged Elena.
- Yes, why? Morse was confused.
“They posted a Halloween theme in our sharaga. Superheroes and villains. I want to dress up as Deadpool. He is somewhat similar to me. Same goofy. And you... Catwoman... Latex and leather will suit you... Damn, I'm already hard at the thought of you in this outfit, - Prothero purred.
"Shoot me," Morse groaned behind the couple.
***
In the evening, Elena drove her yellow beetle to Dr. Flynn's office. Lewis sat next to her and looked at her intently. Now his woman looked so calm and peaceful that it was hard to believe that she had been tormented by nightmares in the morning.
Miss Morse turned up the volume on the radio that was broadcasting Joan Morse. Mrs. Morse was talking about a mysterious outbreak of a strange virus in the town of St. Mary. The symptoms of the virus were at first like a normal SARS, but then it hit the lungs and became deadly.
"That's still not enough," Elena sighed as she parked outside John's office.
— Go with you? Lewis stroked her hand.
-Let's. Support does not fit me, - They got out of the car and entered the office holding hands.
***
-Elena! - Dr. Thomas John Flynn, an elderly handsome Englishman from an ancient magical family, got up from the table and approached Elena smiling. A woman dressed in an impeccable Dior business suit put her purse on the floor and sat down on the couch across from the doctor.
"Hi, John," Elena smiled faintly. - Long time no see…
- 4 years, almost 5. Tell me how you are, - John looked sympathetically at his former patient.
Elena sighed and told him everything that happened during these 4 years. When she got to her relationship with Prothero, Miss Morse took a deep breath and blew it all out.
“Is… like… that is… you were only able to enter into a relationship with him?” - Flynn for the first time in his medical practice encountered this.
John has changed. Me too. We are happy. We love each other. But my nightmares they returned. And they became so frightening ... - Elena ran her hand through her hair.
“Hmm… Did you have sex with Prothero in that mansion?” John adjusted his glasses.
Elena nodded. A desk, a bedroom, a library... Where they just didn't do it with Prothero. The old cannibal surprised her with his sexual experience and inexhaustible fantasy.
What about BDSM? Flynn glared at Elena.
“We… we… wanted to, but somehow it didn’t work out,” the Sorceress blushed.
Well, I think we've found a cure. I advise you Elena to enter into a BDSM relationship with your cannibal. But they must be according to the charter of the Theme, and not the fucking rules of the Death Eaters. You can relax for a while, give him control to get rid of those nightmares. The setting should be as close as possible to the sessions that Lewis arranged in your youth. But only the setting. After sessions-post care. I emphasize the post of care a lot,” John smiled. — And in case of his absences, I advise a dream trap.
pov elena
I leave John's office and see Lewis getting up and walking towards me. I hug him and hear a familiar purr. I feel at home in his arms...
"What did your dear Charlatan say to you?" - We go with him to my car and I throw him the keys to it.
Lewis' eyebrows go up. He freezes and looks into my eyes.
Is everything that bad? “Usually I only let him drive if something happens to me.
John said to try BDSM. You are the top, I am the bottom. All according to the laws of the Theme, — I exhale.
Lewis chuckles.
- And what's so terrible? I know one club, we'll go to the weekend and try it. Then we equip the playrooms for you and for me, - He kisses me.
Should he be told that everything should be like in our youth? What if it blows his mind off? What if he becomes my tormentor again? No, not yet. For now, let's just try a regular session.
I hug him and hug him. I've suffered too much already. Let everything stay as it is for now.
***
“I don’t like the Saint Mary virus,” I growl, putting down my laptop. Lewis comes to the bed and undresses, lays down next to me.
“You pay too much attention to the little things, honey.” He bites my shoulder. - They will get sick, turn white and pass. More importantly what we wear for Halloween.
I smile and push him on the shoulder. The cannibal growls and knocks me onto the bed. We ride on it and squeal like teenagers. I stroke his body, sides, chest and back and feel that I am turning on. Damn wendigo. Prothero rips my nightie off and starts caressing me. At first slowly and measuredly, and then bolder and more assertive. He puts his hand between our bodies and strokes between our legs.
- Your cunt is ready for me as usual - A lustful look and the first push into me.
“Oh, My insatiable nymph,” he purrs and bites on the collarbone. I kiss him and start moving with him. Now what John told me faded into the background. First, we will try the usual BDSM, and then how it goes ...
Encouraged by my thoughts, I begin to move in time with Lewis and kiss him. My hands are everywhere: on the nipples, on the sides, on the stomach ... I shout out his name and reach the peak of pleasure ...
“Sex with you will never get boring,” I whisper. Prothero laughs and pulls me close.
“Will you come with me to Bonfire Night?” Lewis asks, kissing my hair.
What is a fire night? I stroke his chest.
— A celebration in honor of the gods of fire. Lighting a new fire. Plus 30 years of my reign. Wendigo Sabbath by all the rules,” Prothero smiles. You love to dance with me there.
“You know, I… feel remorse. I never told the guys where I disappear at night sometimes. After our dances, I sleep on the go, and Fred doesn't like it, I laugh.
“Hmm… You can invite them along.” They will see that you are safe with me and have not become a wendigo. Plus, I wanted to annoy Fred for a long time - Lewis tickles me.
“Prothero, what a vile you are,” I mutter.