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anto-pops · 14 days ago

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The Serpent's Paramour CH 15 - Sebastian Sallow x Female!Reader

Summary: While some people might say the truth will set you free, you were convinced that those people had never been faced with truths like this. Your long awaited discussion with Sebastian finally transpires, and to say it goes poorly would be putting it... mildly.

Word Count: 5.3k

Warnings: 18+, aged up characters, explicit language, miscommunications, lots of angsty feelings, dialogue heavy

New early update is also live on Ao3

The inn, for all its less desirable qualities, did in fact have running water. It wasn’t particularly hot, but a quick swish of your wand had fixed that problem before you had time to dwell on it. You’d conjured up a rag and a bar of soap, then stepped into the warm, soothing water and got to work without a sound. The tub had been emptied and refilled twice, and you’d scrubbed your skin raw about four separate times, but once the soapy water ran clear, you decided you had stalled for long enough.

The clothes you had magicked up for yourself weren’t pajamas. The pants were snug, thick, and the interior was lined with wool. You’d slipped a grey shirtwaist on, the top button reaching just below your clavicle, and the long dress coat you had conjured up was lined with fur and pearly buttons. It was currently hung up in the chifforobe for later, along with a pair of laced leather boots.

Maybe it was overkill, but you weren’t about to be caught dead out in the cold in such thin clothing a second time. If you were lucky, you would go the rest of your life without seeing snow ever again.

Your hair was slightly damp still, but there wasn’t much you could do about that presently. At the very least, you had been able to detangle it with an ivory comb instead of your fingers. Gathering it off the nape of your neck, you sighed and leaned back against the headboard of the bed. The hot bath had helped with the lingering soreness radiating from your bruises, but what you really wanted was another vial of Wiggenweld. One or two more would do the trick, and then the evidence of what had transpired in the castle would be a distant memory.

At least, you hoped it would be.

Soft voices filtered through the crack beneath the door, and you knew Sebastian was likely still waiting for you to call him inside. You needed to talk to him– to get the discussion over with before you lost your nerve and ran off into the sunset. Where you would go, you didn’t know, but you were in self-preservation mode to the nth degree, and sticking around to run into Victor Rookwood was the last thing you wanted.

Everything was such a fucking mess.

You stayed on the bed for a few extra minutes, inhaling deeply through your nose and exhaling slowly through your mouth. It was one conversation. You could have one conversation with him, and if you didn’t like what you heard, you could leave. Curing Anne was a valiant goal, but it seemed secondary to keeping yourself safe, especially considering Ominis had been dutifully taking care of the younger twin this entire time.

The mere thought of going back on your promise to Sebastian made you bristle, though.

Lifting up your wand, you cast Lumos and stared at the pulsating orb for a couple seconds, then flicked it towards the door. The ball of light broke away from the tip of your wand, rising and falling listlessly as it took itself to where you willed it to go. It plunged down towards the thick gap beneath the entrance, slipping under and disappearing into the lobby of the inn. You knew it had reached Sebastian when the orb zinged back into your room, reattaching itself to your wand before the glow steadily faded, then vanished entirely.

On cue, there was a soft knock of arrival. Sebastian’s head poked through the doorway, his eyes scanning the dim room in search of you before spying you atop the bed. He flashed you a small smile as he let himself in, but it was tight, stiff, and obviously forced.

“Feeling better?” he asked as he strode across the room, his usual swagger absent from his gait.

You nodded as he sat down on the edge of the bed, your hackles rising against your will at the close proximity. You knew he wouldn’t hurt you, but that didn’t make any of this easier. “I’m surprised this place has any functioning plumbing. It’s decrepit.”

Sebastian huffed out a dry laugh, turning to look at the missing strips of wallpaper above the bathroom door. “Yeah, it’s not exactly fit for a king. We’re still in France– in some backwater village. Colmar, I think. It was the best place we could wait while Ominis went to get you. It’s been mostly abandoned for a long time since the whole town is still recovering economically from some muggle war.”

Well. That explained the lack of people, at the very least.

“And Anne? Is she really here?” Sebastian looked back at you, nodding once as the corners of his lips pulled down into a grimace. “Have the two of you seen one another since you escaped?”

“Only from afar, and it was always a one sided affair. I never wanted her to know I was around. Hanging out near St. Mungo’s didn’t seem wise, which is why Devlin and I put a few implants at the hospital. They keep an eye on Anne and update me with any news of her.”

“That must have made for an awkward reunion then,” you muttered, training your gaze down at your hands. Your palm was sweaty where it was curled around your wand, but you refused to put it down. Truthfully speaking, you’d had your fingers coiled around the thin handle from the moment Devlin had handed it to you.

Sebastian watched you for a moment, his eyes roving over all of you in a nano-second. “You didn’t call me in here to talk about my sister, though. What’s happening in that pretty little head of yours, princess?”

The way your heart fluttered and your resolve weakened in response to the nickname wasn’t ideal. This was serious, and you couldn’t let yourself be distracted by his suave one-liners or that playful glimmer in his eyes. Sighing, you rolled your shoulders back and lifted your chin to stare at him head on, and when he caught sight of your resolute expression, his half-smile vanished. “Henri made a comment while I was with him. I don’t think he expected for me to hear it since I was– well, I shouldn’t have been able to pick up on it, but I did. He mentioned something about you.”

“About me?” Sebastian cocked his head to the side, “I suppose I should be flattered that I have fans talking about me all the way out in bumfuck nowhere.”

You furrowed your brows and frowned, “This is serious, Sebastian.”

“Obviously. You’re kind of scaring me here. Just tell me what he said.”

“That’s just it,” you admonished with a groan. “I can tell you what he said, but I don’t think you’ll be able to tell me if there’s any truth to it.”

Sebastian’s expression turned grave, and he pivoted so he was facing you fully before scooting forward slightly. “You can talk to me about anything, princess. Yes, there are some topics I can’t go into graphic detail about, but I wouldn’t be outright deceitful. You can trust me on that.”

“I know. But you told me before that you couldn’t say much about your escape from Azkaban because of an Unbreakable Vow. What Henri said… I’m sure it has to do with that.”

It was barely perceivable– just a slight narrowing of his eyes at the same time his lip twitched– but you still caught the movements. He was nervous. “Tell me. If I can’t answer, then you’ll know you’re right.”

Fair enough. You anxiously ran your fingers along the wood of your wand, your eyes boring into Sebastian’s as you gathered the nerve to say what had been eating you alive for days now. “Henri said you’re Victor Rookwood’s protegee. Are you?”

Sebastian visibly paled, and his lips pressed firmly together. His eyes skirted away from yours to widen at the wall, and then there was silence. Loud, deafening silence as his answer, and your chest tightened uncomfortably.

It was true.

“Why? What the fuck, Sebastian?” Your voice was tight and cracked when you said his name, which only served to make him close his eyes entirely. “There’s no way. I killed Rookwood– he’s been dead for five years.”

He shook his head before letting it sag between his shoulders, leaning away from you completely since that was apparently easier than looking at your crestfallen expression. “He’s… well, he’s not exactly at his peak anymore.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“I–” he swore under his breath, sitting up to rake his fingers through his hair. “I don’t know what to tell you. I don’t know what I can tell you. I’m not able to be as transparent as you might like, but believe me when I say I wish I could tell you everything.”

“Well that’s reassuring,” you snapped, bitter sarcasm dripping from every word as your hands trembled with anger. “That makes all of this so much better. You want to tell me, but you can’t, but you wish you could. Real sound arguments there, Sebastian.”

“For Merlin’s sake– what do you want me to say?!” Standing up quickly, Sebastian took to pacing along the length of the bed, his body coiled tighter than a spring. “You know I’m sworn to silence. Everything about my arrangement with Rookwood pretty much falls into the ‘do not mention’ category. The hows and the whys– I’m stuck between a rock and a hard place, princess.”

He was right, but that didn’t make you any less resentful. Scowling, you crossed your arms over your chest, watching ruefully as Sebastian threaded his fingers together behind his neck. “Well, is there anyone who can tell me what I want to know? Or are all of your lackeys under the same gag order?”

He shot you a biting look in response to the petulant way you spat the word, but you saw the gears in his head turning all the while. His hesitation confirmed that there was absolutely someone else you could talk to. Around a heavy sigh, Sebastian finally said, “Devlin can fill you in. I’m the only one stuck with the unique circumstances. But I need to be there for the discussion.”

The words had barely left his mouth before you were standing, already storming over to the bedroom door with purpose driving your every step. You heard him say something along the lines of ‘hold on’, but you were done waiting. You wanted the truth, and you wanted it now.

Devlin was still seated at the long table in the middle of the lobby. He had moved so he was closer to the firepit, his head bowed over a strip of parchment, but it snapped up at the sound of your thundering footsteps closing in on him. His brows furrowed when he caught sight of Sebastian jogging to keep up with you, and the question he had aimed at his boss was cut off by your harsh bark of, “You. Talk.”

“Come again?” Devlin scooted his chair out and braced his hand on the back as though he were about to stand and make himself scarce. Apprehension was visible on his face, and you didn’t doubt you looked to be ten different kinds of pissed off.

Sebastian sighed behind you as you yanked on the chair across from Devlin, the legs scraping against the floorboards as you aggressively threw yourself into it. The older man’s eyes jumped from Sebastian to you, then back to Sebastian as he hesitantly turned around to settle into his seat once again. “I’m a little worried here, Sallow.”

“I would be too,” Sebastian muttered, and you didn’t bother looking at him as you made a particularly vulgar gesture at him from over your shoulder.

“Talk,” you repeated. “Tell me about Rookwood. Tell me everything.”

Devlin’s eyes widened in shock, his mouth falling open as he turned his full attention to Sebastian. “How did you– what the hell did you tell her?”

“I didn’t tell her anything,” Sebastian hissed. “Henri and his fat, French mouth did, though.”

“Well. Shit.”

You were seconds away from lobbing chairs at both men. “If I have to ask again, I might start breaking things.”

A long, drawn out groan came from Sebastian, and he moved to sit down in the seat next to you. You tensed uncomfortably but otherwise said nothing. Now wasn’t the time to get pissy about his close proximity to you. Devlin, for all intents and purposes, looked to be on the verge of soiling himself, and it wasn’t until Sebastian gave him a stiff nod of confirmation that the elder Ashwinder looked back at you. “What do you want to know?”

Thank the gods. “How about you start with how he’s alive? He wasn’t exactly in great shape when I saw him last. I honestly thought I’d killed him.”

Devlin looked puzzled at your words for a moment before something dawned on him, and then the confusion was swiftly replaced with surprise. “You’re the one who messed him up five years ago?”

“If by ‘messed him up’ you mean I broke damn near every bone in his body and left him for dead in a field, then yes. How do you know about that?”

Sitting back in his seat, Devlin chanced a look at Sebastian, who still looked incredibly put off by the circumstances. “Everyone knows about that. Victor was as close to dead as they come after that whole ordeal. Medics tried healing spells and potions, but they could only do so much to help. The damage was too severe– everyone was stumped by the magic that had done it because it ran deep enough to scar his soul or something. I’m no doctor, but I can tell you that no one expected him to live. To this day, he’s what you might call a shell of the man he once was.”

Perfect. So you hadn’t actually killed Rookwood– you’d just crippled him for life. For some reason, that didn’t make you feel any better. “I should have thrown him around harder, then. How does Sebastian factor into this? Why is he working for Rookwood?”

The almost casual way you spoke about murder made Devlin gape at you, but he recovered fairly quickly, rubbing his temples as he got to work dredging up the past. “Right… well, the short version of the long story is this: it took a long time for Victor to recover from his fight with you. By the time he was functional– or, uh, somewhat functional– he knew he needed a replacement. Someone to take up the mantle and act on his orders. He might have been weaker physically, but he didn’t want to relinquish control of his position entirely. He had heard about Sebastian ending up in Azkaban and decided that he had potential, so he orchestrated the whole breakout from the sidelines.”

That made next to no sense to you. Glancing at Sebastian, you saw that his spine was ramrod straight. It looked like he wanted to say something, but it wasn’t like he could insert his own opinions on the matter. At least, not without keeling over and dying at the hands of that damn Vow he’d foolishly made. Idiot.

“Why Sebastian?” you asked, turning to look back at Devlin. “Why not a dark wizard he was already familiar with? You’re telling me he went out of his way to break a teenager out of Azkaban instead of just passing the reins to someone closer?”

Shrugging, Devlin began toying with the corners of the parchment in front of him. “I honestly don’t know. Plenty of people objected to the decision, but he was dead set on getting Sebastian for some reason.”

“Even immobile, old men can’t resist my wit and charm,” Sebastian deadpanned beside you. The joke fell flat, however.

“Rookwood saw Sebastian with me in Hogsmeade years ago,” you recalled cautiously, the memory of that day vivid and clear as though it had happened yesterday. “In The Three Broomsticks– he cornered both of us with Harlow. He already knew the two of us were friends… could that be why he wanted him?”

Devlin’s puzzled expression told you that he didn’t seem convinced by your logic, which only served to frustrate you further. “Maybe, but I doubt it. You were both totally unassuming kids at that time. It’s more believable that Victor didn’t even recognize Sebastian after getting him out of Azkaban.”

Your scowl deepened at the same time your nails began to dig into the table. It was too big of a coincidence for you to overlook. Devlin didn’t understand– he hadn’t been there to witness Rookwood’s desperation as he’d stared you both down in the middle of the pub. He had to have known that you and Sebastian had history. Why else would he have gone to such extreme lengths to break a random man out of prison, just to sic him on your trail?

It was too convenient. Too perfect.

“Anyway, Sebastian has been running the show in Victor’s stead ever since. It was agreed that he would take over in exchange for help curing his sister. It was Rookwood who suggested using the relic to do it, and it was his idea to track you down to get it open.”

Oh.

If you’d been reeling before, now you were spiraling. It was as if a rug had just been yanked out from under your feet. Your heart fell into your stomach, and your head suddenly felt fuzzy. The repository’s magic buzzed to life beneath your skin, reacting to your emotions and making your hair stand on end as it charged the air around you. Sebastian heard your strangled intake of breath and side-eyed you warily, obviously feeling the dark power rolling off of you. Devlin looked like he wanted to be anywhere other than here.

Sebastian had lied. He had looked you right in the eyes and lied about everything.

It had never been his idea to come find you. The map you’d found in his office littered with dates and ancient magic sites was a direct result of Rookwood sending him after you, because of course he would. There wasn’t a single doubt in your mind that Victor wanted vengeance for what you’d done to him. Since he knew you and Sebastian had been friends, he must have figured that using him would make it infinitely easier to accomplish that feat. Maybe Sebastian was just a tool for Rookwood to utilize, and maybe he really was none the wiser to his mentor’s true motives, but he had still played you.

He had fooled you. He’d cozied up to you and gotten you to lower your guard. He had kissed you and wooed you and made you feel things you had never experienced before, all while fibbing through his teeth. His silver tongue had simultaneously crafted the finest of flattery alongside the most convincing of lies, and you’d gone and believed all of it. The betrayal you felt in that moment cut sharper than any blade, and you truly didn’t think you’d ever been so hurt in your entire life.

Sebastian said your name, pulling you out of the suffocating pit of aggrieved thoughts you found yourself drowning in. Slowly, you twisted your head to the side to stare at him. There was nothing but vast emptiness in your gaze– an impassive coldness that brought a crestfallen expression to Sebastian’s face.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, his brows pinching together as he reached out to take your hand in his, but you yanked the limb away before he could touch you. He winced as though he’d been burned, then let his arm fall back to the table. “I would have told you if I could. But none of this changes the fact that I need your help.”

He couldn’t possibly be serious. You scoffed harshly, curling your hands into tight fists. The power rippling through the room intensified in that moment, and you could have sworn you heard Devlin gag.

“It changes everything! I’m not nearly as stupid as you think– Rookwood sent you after me because he hates me. He probably wants to kill me himself when the time comes, and he knew that you would be the perfect little delivery boy. Breaking you out of Azkaban, sending you after me, then promising to help you with Anne– it makes no sense! That loathsome cockroach could have probably cured her himself if he really wanted to! But no! This?” You gestured wildly at the room, broadly referring to everything about the situation. “All of this is about him getting revenge. Nothing more, nothing less.”

Devlin sat forward, holding his arms up and fixing you with a stern look that left little room for argument. “I know you’re worried, but Rookwood couldn’t cast a simple charm if you paid him to do it. His magic isn’t what it used to be. He’s more like a squib now than ever before, and he’s definitely not a threat–”

“What do you mean he could have cured Anne?” Sebastian interrupted. You and Devlin both turned to look at him, and you pursed your lips as you took in the frantic gleam in his dark eyes. The flickering light from the firepit cast a foreboding shadow all across his face, and his voice wavered as he asked, “What makes you think he would have any ability to fix her curse?”

“…You don’t know? Ominis never told you?” Some of your righteous anger evaporated as you realized what you had thought in your cell was correct; Sebastian wasn’t aware of Victor’s role in Anne’s suffering.

His jaw hardened, and the paranoid glint in his eyes amplified. “No one has told me a damn thing. What the hell are you on about?”

“Victor is the one who cursed Anne,” you murmured firmly, taking care not to sound boastful about the whole thing. It wasn't Sebastan’s fault he’d been fooled by his apparent mentor. It was kind of tragic, really.

It was also incredibly predictable.

He was up and out of his seat in a heartbeat, his fingers buried in his hair as he planted himself directly in front of the firepit. Between your dark magic filling the lobby and Sebastian’s palpable fury joining it, the inn suddenly seemed five times smaller than before. With his back to you, the tension in his posture was visible, and you and Devlin both cast warning glances at one another. The modicum of disbelief on the older man’s face told you he hadn’t known that tidbit of information either. “When did he tell you?”

You stammered for a moment, “He didn’t exactly admit it outright, but–”

“What did he say?”

Shit. That was the voice of a man on the brink of erupting. Despite your justified anger at him and the situation as a whole, you willed your body to calm down, swallowing thickly as you stared at his back and psyched yourself up to break the gut-wrenching news to him.

“Before he brought me to that field, he tried convincing me to work with him. When I refused, he got angry and started yelling about how he should have known better than to try reasoning with a child. He…” Your hands shook as you momentarily relived the terror you had felt in that moment. Outside of that wand shop in Hogsmeade was where you’d realized that Victor Rookwood was capable of evil, demented things like cursing a child just for crossing his path, and you had genuinely believed that he would do the same to you. Not your bravest moment, certainly. “He told me, ‘I’ve always said children should be seen and not heard’.”

The silence that followed your statement was the anxiety-inducing kind. No one moved. Devlin looked confused, but understood enough of what was happening that he kept his mouth shut. Your eyes were glued to Sebastian’s back. He was eerily still– enough so that you couldn’t be sure if he was even breathing. Tiny tremors danced down his arms, which had fallen away from his hair to curl into iron-tight fists at his sides. You’d never been one to invade other people’s privacy, but in that moment, you wanted nothing more than to listen in on his thoughts. What was he thinking?

“I’m going to kill him.”

Ah. He was voicing his thoughts. That helped.

“Hold on,” Devlin chimed in, ignoring the six foot tall mass of vibrating wrath behind him. “You’re telling me that Victor was responsible for this whole mess? The curse he promised to help break was his own doing?”

“It would appear so,” Sebastian growled. The rough timbre to his voice promised violence, and you weren’t sure if you found it worrisome or reassuring.

Devlin sighed, sitting back in his seat and pinching the bridge of his nose. You wouldn’t be surprised if he ended up completely gray by the time the conversation was over. “So… what then? He’s been using Sebastian this entire time?”

“To get to me,” you surmised quickly.

“No offense, kid, but not everything is about you and your special magic.”

You were about to send a bolt of said special magic right at Devlin’s exasperated face. “That’s rich, coming from the Metamorphmagus. Do you have any other bright ideas?”

“Well no, but yours is just insane!” Devlin threw his hands up, “You’re saying that Victor spent the last five years orchestrating this whole plan to get a relic for Sebastian to cure his sister– the very sister he cursed himself– all for the sake of getting you in front of him so he could, what? Kill you? Get one final lick in before he kicks the bucket? I wasn’t kidding when I said the man can barely hold a wand anymore, much less cast with one.”

“How should I know what that demented loon has planned? You’re the ones working for him. I’m just telling you what I know,” you scowled, the urge to scream and shout leaving you abruptly. This discussion… it hadn’t gone at all like how you’d anticipated. “Rookwood always wanted the repository for himself. He always planned on crossing Ranrok to get it, but obviously I beat them both to the punch. Maybe whatever prompted him to send his people after me has to do with that, or maybe it really is as simple as revenge.”

“He’s not getting a fucking thing from any of us.” Sebastian turned away from the roaring flames of the firepit, backlit and the very definition of menacing. From where you sat, he looked massive. His stiff, broad shoulders cast a shadow across the table, and his eyes glimmered with deadly rage. “This whole thing is over. I’m done. Three years of my life spent answering to the man who cursed Anne– Victor isn’t getting another fucking second from me.”

Devlin started to turn in his seat, looking incredibly neurotic in the face of Sebastian’s ominous glowering. “Look, we can still cure your sister–”

“How? By playing right into Victor’s hands? Who knows if the relic will even do what he said it would. I won’t take that chance, not with Anne, and certainly not with you.”

Realizing he was speaking to you then, you looked at him anxiously, surprised to find fierce determination etched across his dark features. The stubborn tilt of his chin left you reeling, and you couldn’t help but shift uneasily in your chair. “I don’t need you to protect me. I can take care of myself.”

“Tell that to the bruises you were wearing earlier,” he snapped, and you audibly gasped at the same time Devlin swore under his breath. The way Sebastian recoiled immediately after told you that he regretted the words as soon as they’d left him. He pinched his eyes shut as he deflated, “I didn’t mean– fuck. I’m sorry.”

Oh, hell no. He wasn’t going to weasel his way out of a remark like that with a pitiful apology. You braced your hands on the table and stood, the legs of your chair scraping loudly against the floor and nearly toppling over from the force of the movement. “Let me make one thing abundantly clear; if I ever see Henri again, I will kill him. Not you, not Devlin, me. I’ll do to him what I did to Victor, but this time, I’ll swing harder. I will make sure he’s as dead as can be before I set his corpse on fire, and then I will dance on the ashes. Then I’ll find whoever told him I was responsible for freeing his dragons, and I’ll do the same to them.”

Sebastian held your stare, and you saw Devlin scrub his hands down his cheeks in your peripheral vision. “Gods, kid… that’s…”

Ignoring the fear in the Ashwinder’s voice, you tsk’d in annoyance. Sebastian, on the other hand, actually smirked. “The princess has made her decree, Dev. You better be glad your daughter is in the clear.”

That actually made you raise your brows, your surprise showing plainly on your face before you could school it. “Nora didn’t sell me out?”

“Why the hell do both of you think she’s capable of something like that?” Devlin spat, standing from his seat to better defend his daughter’s innocence. “I get that she’s difficult to be around sometimes, but honestly this is just insulting to hear.”

“In my defense,” Sebastian cast his second in command a sidelong look, “she did suggest I tell Henri. Numerous times.”

“I kind of buried the hatchet with her before everything happened. I didn’t want to believe she was the reason he knew, but I still wondered,” you admitted softly, and Devlin sighed, his frustration simmering down some. “This is hardly important, though. What are we going to do about Victor?”

Everyone fell silent at that, and the three of you glanced at each other uncertainly. No one knew what to say. Where did you go from here? Curing Anne had been the only reason you’d stuck around at first, but now knowing that Victor had likely planned all of this for the express purpose of killing you, staying didn’t seem wise. You didn’t even know what Sebastian was going to do since he was acting on Rookwood’s behalf. Even though he had said he was done, something told you that parting from this life he’d created for himself wouldn’t be so simple.

The triangular huddle in the middle of the lobby persisted for another minute. Sebastian looked at you, you looked at Sebastian, and Devlin just looked at the floor. All of you were at a loss, and you couldn’t believe that the last month and some change had amounted to this. Here you were, standing in an abandoned inn on the outskirts of France, having just been held captive by an insane Poacher for a week straight, only to be rescued by Ominis of all people. Your life was a fucking disaster.

“Even with all those books you love to read, you can still be so thick sometimes, Sebastian.”

The soft, lilting, feminine voice came from the back of the inn, and you turned to spot the source at the same time Sebastian and Devlin did. They were obviously less surprised to see her standing there, seeing as they had been aware of her presence for a while. For you, though, it was your first time setting your sights on the owner of the voice in almost five years. Despite being told that she was here, seeing was definitely believing, and your jaw dropped at the same time your eyes widened.

There was an easy smile playing on her lips and a teasing twinkle in her brown eyes, the shade identical to Sebastian’s.

Anne Sallow stood in the doorway of her bedroom, gazing at her brother with a fondness that confused you and made your head spin.