Lost in the Nothingness..

Chapter Three: Lost in the Nothingness...

When this began,

I had nothing to say,

I get lost in the nothingness inside of me.

- "Somewhere I Belong", Linkin Park

Sirius rolled to a defensive standing position, and had to reach out the hand not holding his wand to grasp the study table in front of him. The room was spinning...and he hurt like the nine hells everywhere. Where was this place? The last thing he remembered was...yes, Bella and her stunning spells. He'd always had a certain weakness for them. He grinned wryly and shook his head, ignoring the shock of ebony hair that fell over his eyes. And after that, he had fallen -somewhere- cold, mind-numbingly cold for an instant, then nothing.

Was he dead? If he was and this was hell, they had a long way to go if they meant to break him using spinning rooms and little aches in all kinds of places.

Speaking of the room...from his half-standing position all he could see clearly was the large, mahogany-worked table he was holding onto, something large and ostentious, one he would never see in his house if he had a say about things. The table was neat, its surface uncluttered. There were only a few pens in an incongruously simple penholder, and a tall glass of water. The rest of the room seemed to be much the same: sparsely decorated. The walls were bare, and there were no visible openings, as far as Sirius could see.

"Well...finally awake, are we?"

Sirius looked up, slowly. The yammering in his head just refused to cease and desist. Someone was approaching him...but due to poor lighting or foggy eyesight (or both) he couldn't quite lock onto anything definite about whoever it was.

"Hm. That blasted headache? Stupefy isn't pretty, no, and your cousin's does seem to pack that extra oomph...does she, perchance, have something against you? Maybe you'd better sit down."

The figure pointed at a spot behind Sirius, and as he turned his head (very slowly) too look, he realized that here was a really large, plush chair there. He sank gratefully into it, for once not worrying that he had been sure there had been nothing there a moment ago, or about whether there was anything suspicious, like a nest of adders, on the chair; he was dead, anyway.

"Not checking for a nest of adders?" The figure chuckled, and as it continued coming closer Sirius realized, with a jolt, that the slightly wavy hazel hair, golden eyes...it was Remus. He ignored the mirroring of his thoughts, and just stared. No, not really. There was something different about this person. Not as pure as Remus. If Sirius could compare, he would say this person was more like Snape than Remus. Just as he had that thought, the eyes of the man in front of him seemed to darken until it was amber-brown. Sirius frowned, confused.

"What, is something wrong?" The man had stopped at the opposite side of the study table, and Sirius had to tip his head up if he wanted to see the other man's face more fully. He did not wait for an answer, but continued, "Oh, I know why. Do I look like...Remus Lupin, good friend of yours for many, many years? He looked up to you and, once, asked you, "Do you like me?" To which you replied that why, of course, you're his best friend...I'm curious. Did you really miss the expression in his eyes, or did you just refuse to acknowledge it? Oh never mind, don't answer; I know it's the latter anyway.

The man gracefully extracted a pen from the holder and began to idly twirl it with the fingers of one hand. When Sirius, head now lowered, did not say anything, he continued.

"You always were more attracted to the disquiet, the unfixed, and...you're wondering why I know this, aren't you? Very well. I know you. I know you...Sirius."

At this, Sirius raised his eyes, now only inches from the other man's. He asked, instead, "Where am I?"

The man who looked like Remus leaned back, then, only his fingertips resting lightly on the table. He smiled slightly. Unpredictable, this Sirius Black. And he replied, "In this case, we, since it's me and you, are everywhere, " he spread his left hand in the general direction of one side of the room in a broad gesture, and the "study", all except the chair Sirius was in, fell away to be replaced by a succession of scenes: rush hour at the London Underground, people immersed in their studies at the library, children at play at the local playground-cum-park, suited businessmen holding a hushed meeting on a matter of great import -

"and nowhere." This time it was as if the two of them were in a bubble, floating in a void, the vast black darkness that was only made more amazing by the occasional rent of sparkling light in the velvet expanse. Peace reigned supreme here, and anything that threatened this peace would -

Abruptly, Sirius "found" himself in the study again. The man who looked like Remus was looking at him quizzically, as if to ask whether he was impressed.

Sirius, only cocked an eyebrow in reply, as if to insinuate the answer had not been particularly useful. At least the headache did not seem to be as severe now. So he shrugged and ask, "Well, then. Who'r you?"

The other man grinned and stepped back a few steps more. "I am, was, whatever. A very, indeed very, long time ago this was how he viewed me. He, who I first used the power of this for, in desperation, and who is still the reason I remain bound. Not that you'll know him. " A slightly apologetic look at Sirius. "You can call me Romulus, I suppose. I am the Master of Fire -" He lifted a hand, and a ball of brightly incandescent fire formed in his palm. With a sudden action, he hurled it to the ground and the room was momentarily engulfed in flames. Sirius felt the heat all too clearly.

"And of Ice." He snapped the fingers of one hand, and the flames died down to little flamelets, then disappeared altogether. The temperature of the room started dipping as Romulus crossed his arms, a small smile on his face. When ice crystals were starting to form on the surface of the water in the glass on the table, Sirius began to tap his foot, partly due to impatience, and partly because it really was getting cold. Romulus's eyes noted the movement immediately and, sighting, made a cutting gesture with his right hand. The temperature in the room rose to a more comfortable level.

"And of much everything else, here, but most importantly of illusions." Sirius was taken aback when Romulus's features changed, melted into...Lucius Malfoy's? In a split second, he had leveled his wand at the other man, even though it took all he had to make sure it didn't waver. Lucius held his hands up in a gesture of mock surrender. "Why, is this any way to welcome an old friend?" It was Lucius's voice...he had been tricked. "Romulus" must have been just a disguise, a tall tale intended to mislead him. He shook his head. Lucius's features were...changing again...even as he readied himself to cast a stunning spell. A sudden rush of dizziness made his head reel, and all he managed to say before he fell was, "Stu..."

As he sank to the ground (or whatever passed for the ground around here), in those few seconds he seemed to see the figure of his beloved approaching...his last image was of a pair of eyes darkened by concern, before the general world faded into blackness...

~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:

Romulus sighed as he changed his form back to a more familiar one. At least Mister Black would remember what he had glimpsed. Or at least, Romulus hoped he would. You never knew about these things...or at least, Romulus would never know, not being a strong enough Empath, even enhanced as he was. And Sirius Black was more unpredictable than the most he had...well, administered to. He eyed the man lying prone on the study room floor, and decided a change of scene was required if he was to carry out his orders.

He thought for a moment, tapping a finger lightly against his forehead. Childhood? The time before Sirius Black had had to endure the trials that had made him the man he was? No, that won't do. Too inappropriate, and besides Black was not the type to deny his past. His childhood hadn't been particularly happy, anyway. Hogwarts? No, won't do either, too confined, and besides Black had cared more for the people within Hogwarts than the ancient, drafty mansion itself.

Seriously, without people it would be really hard to make Black happy, since he was the kind of man who basically lived and survive don human company. Even if it was just one person (if the person was the right one, of course). Romulus snickered. For all his skill at illusion he wouldn't be able to handle more than two, since people were considerably harder to anticipate and plan for. Particularly if the people were doing things like...Romulus shook his head, bemused.

So one person it would be, and he would use the ideas Black held closest to his heart to try his best to come up with what Black had always dreamed about but never really knew or expected to come true. An illusion, of course, but here he could always make it wholly substantial. All in the mind...But the mind would in turn affect the body, and...well. Not being hampered by the physical body did have some advantages, such as, in this case, the enhancement of his powers. He wondered when Sirius Black would realize that magic did and could work here, within the bounds of physical limits, but that if he, Romulus, did not want it to be so Black could well be waving a useless stick around. What happened, what he saw, was real. Black would be no more able to change the environment such as Romulus had done than handle a spell right now.

He sighed and slowly knelt down beside Sirius. Black was out cold, and no doubt due to overexertion. He had known Black had a stubborn streak, but Black had seemed to react more violently than he should have when he had changed his from to Lucius's. Strange, verily. He peered closer at Black. Some cleaning up would be in order, but even with the bruises and sign s of exhaustion clear on Black's face it was obvious that Black was a fine-looking fellow, indeed. And he seemed to know it, from what Romulus had gleaned about his harem of admirers at Hogwarts.

Romulus stood slowly, sighed, then began to work on what Black would see when he woke again. When at last he was done, he stood back, crossed his arms, and smiled slightly. A fine job, indeed...one of his masterpieces, he was certain. After a moment's thought, he added one last touch: a tray laden with Black's favourite foods. No point letting his quarry starve...Romulus only hoped that Black would not be so stupid as to use the bread knife to do bodily harm to himself, in a warped attempt to get back to the "real world", as the last had done. Romulus wrinkled his nose in disgust. That would be messy, yes, and would do no one any good...so just to be safe, he left a sentry of sorts, formed of mist and magic, to contact him when Sirius woke...

~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:

Romulus sat on the straight-backed chair with a book on Astronomy opened to Chapter Five: The supposedly most "constant" star is more well-known than the brightest one.. A casual observer would have thought that he was immersed in his reading, head bent intently over the page, though his posture was relaxed - that is, of course, until you realize that he had not turned the page in the last twenty minutes, and that his gaze was slightly unfocused, his thoughtful expression marred by a slight frown, as if he was thinking about something but also at the same tame trying not to think about it.

He smiled wrily at the thought. It was like trying not to think about pink elephants when they were dancing right in front of him and wearing pink tutus and matching ballet slippers...he had said that once, and for a long time Romulus had puzzled over the meaning of the phrase until he picked up, or rather filtered through the minds of some of the more recent people through his domain. M'lady's world was more than a little strange, he admitted, because from the memories he had appropriated the moment they had made a step into his study, it seemed that most people lived in great jungles of artificiality, and even seemed to enjoy a life among the concrete and...what was it? Alumnum, or some such. Amazing.

Such a far cry from where he had been. The Vale is, was, a place of clean air, healthy environs, natural and unfettered by the chains of what he believed were now known as "society". A place of peace, even though its occupants were not entirely oblivious to war; where there were humans there was bound to be disagreements, strife; despite what some might say, it is not in our nature to conform. Humankind lives for challenges, indeed thrives on them, and...Romulus looked up as a loud twang (it sounded like a string of a violin snapping under stress) ran through the room.

He was not surprised to see Lucius Malfoy appear in his library, but he was surprised when he saw who he had brought along. Standing up in a fluid motion, he proceeded into an elaborate bow. "M'lady. Lucius. A pleasure...what brings the both of you here?"

There was no response from M'lady. Her eyes were lowered, but Lucius was glaring at him. "Have you finally managed to do something about Black? It's been seventy..."

"Yes, seventy days. Of course I am aware of that, but have I not already told you once that he was utterly inaccessible to me? The only reason I can think of is because he was imbued with some unique power in an unsuspected quality...but yes. Blacks eems to be of weak constitution, though - he fainted at the sight of you. I had no idea you were so fearsome, Lucius..." Romulus grinned, while Lucius continued looking suspiciously at him and M'lady remained silent.

"Have you begun, then..."

"Begun doing something about my mission? Of course I have, Lucius, but with Black abed and all...he isn't what I'd call very...responsive. It'll take a while, perhaps even a year, to accomplish what M'lady has requested I do."

"A year would be..."

"Fine, of course, since you all have preparations and all, a lot of things to handle..." Romulus blithely rattled on, oblivious to the narrowing of Lucius's silver eyes as he continued.

"Will you stop..."

"Oh, interrupting your sentences? I'm so sorry, Lucius...I didn't realise at all -" He imbued the sentence with as much mock chagrin as he could muster, and was gratified to see Lucius lower his head to speak quietly to M'lady and subsequently disappear in a mauve mushroom cloud.

Only then did M'lady raise her eyes and speak to Romulus, "Romulus, why do you dislike Lucius so?"

He laughed bitterly and replied, "I'm sure the feeling is mutual, M'lady. Just pre-empting any chances for him to act on that, you see. Might I be so bold as to ask what M'lady sees in that...well, in Malfoy?"

M'lady smiled slightly, but her eyes were sad as she replied, "Lucius made a choice long ago, and because even then I was already lost, I pledged my heart, my soul, my being to him. And he accepted it. " The expression in her eyes grew hard. "I realised too late that I had been dazzled, but by then I had someone else to care about, and for his sake by Lucius's side I will bide. "

Romulus watched the spot M'lady had been on, a single tendril of mauve reaching, reaching, then fading and dying in the stillness. His eyes, a soft chocolate brown haunted by ghosts unknown, narrowed. He had an idea of who M'lady spoke of was, and if he was right they knew each other, even if the other might not be aware right now.

~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:

He sat heavily back down onto the comfortable one-sitter he had been on, before his library had been invaded. With a thought, he raised the opaque impenetrable wards around the room; it had been a promise M'lady had given him a while ago, the gift of absolute privacy from any eyes, even her own. It only ever worked in the library, but it was Romulus's sanctuary.

But he was tired of doing this. It had been so long, and even if he knew he didn't have to wait much longer he also knew he might not be able to continue on 'til the end. It had all been for him, but now, even as Romulus yearned to see him again he also feared rejection, because he had done many terrible things. He was weary, both of mind and spirit.

Sighing, he called up a memory, blurred despite several attempts to still the hand of the ravages of time. The soft pure high tones of a flute echoed in the room, a tune the composer had shyly admitted only one other person was allowed to hear. The longing, hope and wonder at having finally found something that made life so joyful, so much more complete, distilled in the spell of song. Romulus watched as the figure in front of him played, absorbed in the beauty of the music and the act of sharing it. When the last notes faded away, the figure held out a hand to him, and Romulus, silent tears trickling down his face, mouthed the words as they were spoken.

"Will you come with me, please, Romulus?"