HP: Panem et Circenses

May 30th, 1996

Bluebells and primroses thrived through the Scottish highlands, dancing in the faint cool breeze that drifted from the shores of the Black Lake. Tristan leaned back against the thick tree trunk and drew Fleur against his chest with a small sigh.

'Perfect.' He closed his eyes, running his fingers through her silky long braid and breathing in sweet vanilla.

A shadow fell across his face. Tristan cracked open an eye to bright sunlight and the towering outline of Madame Maxime.

"On y va, Fleur. It is time to say au revoir."

He glanced over his shoulder. Beauxbatons students split from the white-shirted mob that waved by the foot of the Castle. They walked across the lawn to Hagrid who issued the Abraxan horses into harnesses of their carriage.

"Merci, Madame, but I'm staying here a bit longer." Fleur interlaced his arms around her midriff. "Mes parents already know and will collect my belongings."

Madame Maxime's lips pursed. "D'accord, Fleur. Enjoy your summer." She briefly inclined her head to Tristan. "Au revoir, Tristan Peverell."

"Have a safe trip back, Madame."

"Merci beaucoup." She turned in a graceful ripple of velvet fabric and swaying opals, crossing the lawn in long strides to her waiting students.

Fleur's ribcage shook in a brief burst of laughter. "If one year ago someone told me I'd stay behind for an English boy, there would've been plenty of fire..."

Tristan smiled, pressing a kiss through her silver hair. "A lot can change in a year." He closed his eyes and let the warmth of her seep through his skin like rays of summer sun, listening to the tune of birds and the rustle of leaves in the gentle breeze. 'And so much has changed for me...'

"Urgh... Do you guys ever just keep your hands off of each other?" Valeria's voice drifted from behind the trunk. "Literally, anytime I see you, you're touching."

She skipped in front of them, sleeves rolled up her forearms and golden hair capturing the sun.

"But it's so comfortable." Fleur placed one of Tristan's hands over her heart and snuggled back against him. "If you had a boyfriend yourself..."

Valeria eyed his hand with a snort. "You don't say..." She crouched down, flicking a blade of grass against Tristan's head. "Unfortunately, boyfriends will have to wait until this one has graduated." She raised one eyebrow at Fleur. "Which reminds me... How come you're still here?"

Fleur smirked up at Tristan. "Someone would be heartbroken if I left him all alone already."

"Yeah, he might just die from withdrawal symptoms," Valeria sniggered. "But anyway, the Express rolls out in an hour. You two should probably get ready soon."

"We're not taking the Express," Tristan chimed in. "Can you tell Mother and Father that we have a picnic planned for the afternoon? Just in case we're not home by the time you've arrived already."

Valeria snorted. "I'd rather tell them you've not spent a single night down in the Slytherin dorms since the third task. Mother's reaction would be so much more fun..."

"True," Tristan laughed. "But you won't get any chocolate from Honeydukes for saying that."

His sister beamed innocently, batting her lashes. "Well, why didn't you say so in the first place?" She ruffled his hair and skipped off. "Enjoy your picnic and see you at home tonight, big brother!"

Fleur remained still in his arms until his sister's giggles were carried away by the breeze, then she craned her head up at him, blue eyes large and bright. "Ready, Tristan?"

"I am." He took a deep breath and nodded. "Let's have our picnic while the weather's still nice."

Fleur laughed softly, stretching against his chest like a cat. "Don't think I forgot that you still owe me a real picnic date." She wiggled her bare toes through the grass and rose to her feet. "And my expectations increase with each day..."

"Don't worry. I'll make it perfect for you," Tristan murmured, admiring the way her skirt hitched up her creamy thighs as she bent over to tie her shoes.

"I can feel you're watching me."

He heaved himself off the grass with a grin. "You said I'm allowed, unlike the other boys..."

Fleur stepped underneath his chin and smirked up at him through her long eyelashes. "Don't get too distracted. This might be dangerous."

"Not this time." Tristan kissed her, smothering a tiny flicker of unease. "Let's disillusion ourselves until we've reached the edge of the forest in case someone from the staff is still looking. Then we'll find those wands."

"D'accord." She twirled her wand over herself, her form rippling in the summer breeze as she faded from view.

Tristan mirrored her and tracked her footsteps of bent grass to the towering pines where the arena had stood. Dense branches swallowed the sunlight and dead pine needles crunched under his heels.

Fleur's form faded back into view and she swiftly tied her hair up. "Where to?"

"Over here." Tristan dispelled his disillusionment charm, pointing his wand down the slim forest path. "Follow me."

They stumbled into the dark, past thicker growing trunks to where the roots arched up to his waist. He spun his wand through his fingers, his heart beating a little faster as a familiar spark of excitement ignited in his breast.

"I encountered them after I jogged for roughly fifteen minutes in that direction, so thirty minutes of walking should do it," he murmured.

"Lumos." Fleur sent forth a set of pulsing spheres of bright magic with flicks of her wand.

They crept past the eerie shadows the source of light sent dancing over the thick pines, climbing over fallen trees, pausing only when the sharp snap of a twig echoed from the dark.

Fleur conjured a shield charm, stopping the sharp-needled boughs from whipping across her face. "I didn't like this forest the first time," she muttered in annoyance. Her knuckles whitened around her slim wand and the tiny hairs on her neck stood straight. "I don't like it now either."

"We're almost there." Tristan pointed his wand at a large cut-through root. "I remember this one."

A massive pine loomed within a small clearing, casting a shadow upon a thin carpet of white ashes. Fleur rounded the tree once, running the tip of her wand over the deep scorch mark in its trunk, and crouched down to scoop up a handful of ashes.

"This is where you fought them, non?" She closed her eyes, shuddering as the ashes seeped through her fingers.

"It's distant, but I can feel the magic that took their lives," she whispered with a shiver. "It's like an echo, still clinging to this very spot like thick, black smoke. Far away and fading... but once it was so strong."

"I did what I had to." Tristan slipped his fingers through hers with a small frown. "Otherwise, I wouldn't be here," he murmured, tugging gently. "We should keep going, Fleur."

She startled and blinked her eyes open. "Pardon." Her gaze softened to a little gleam as she followed his pull out of the clearing.

Fleur caught his eye as he helped her over the next fallen trunk. "May I ask you something, Tristan?"

Tristan sighed. "You'd like to know if they were the first..."

She gently squeezed his hand, forcing him to stop and look back down at her. "Oui. I do."

'If you want me to be a part of your life, then you'll have to let me in eventually.'

Tristan wrestled with the distant echo of her words, swallowing a heavy tangle of unease. "No. They weren't the first," he admitted. "I've killed before. Just once. At the Quidditch World Cup last summer."

Her eyes darkened a hue, an unreadable expression dwelling in their depths. "Who? And why?"

"His name was Frederick Parkinson," Tristan recalled. "Frederick and a few of his friends held a spontaneous Death Eater reunion for old times' sake. My father tracked them down. And so did I."

"These Death Eaters... They were the followers of the one with the silly name, non? Lord Voldemort?"

"More like servants, but yeah," Tristan snorted.

"Bon," Fleur hummed, placing a chaste kiss on his lips as she strode past him. "Then I'm sure this Frederick Parkinson deserved everything he got. And I'm glad you're well."

'That's it already?' Tristan stared after her bright ponytail, billowing between the thick trunks, then stumbled over twisting roots and pinecones to catch up with her. 'She really meant it when she said she was different.'

A gradient rose a few meters ahead of them. "There it is." He funneled Fleur's orbs of light to illuminate their path, offering her his hand as the slope grew steeper.

They carefully peeked over the edge. The rune-covered boulder prodded from the center of the clearing.

"I half expected the bodies to still be here," Fleur murmured in his ear as they climbed over and stumbled down the slope into the pit. "It almost looks bizarre without them."

"The acromantulae probably cleaned up after themselves," Tristan hummed, circling the boulder once and studying the remains of his spell work. "Let's get what we came for."

"Accio wands!" Fleur murmured.

The eerie silence prevailed.

Tristan frowned, unease prickling in the pit of his stomach. "Wait. Let me try it." He twisted his wand through a blur of black mist. "They've got to be somewhere here."

His magic wrapped itself around himself and Fleur, lifting them atop the boulder from where he thrust out his open palm.

Small pebbles and twigs levitated all around the boulder, squirming in the air, yet his finger curled around nothingness.

"How?!" Tristan growled in frustration and leaped off the boulder, his magic catching his fall. "I know I had them with me! They have to be here!"

The forest floor began trembling in a low distant rumble that soon shifted into the rhythmic thunder of hooves. Something fast whizzed from within the dark pines.

Tristan slashed his wand, batting aside an arrow and watching it spike into the boulder behind him with a menacing thud.

Centauri emerged from every side of the clearing, their bows raised and loaded, pointing down at him.

'You've got to be kidding me.' Tristan ground his jaw. "Fleur?"

"I'm here." She landed beside him in a rustle of pines, fingers clutching her wand. "And I'm staying..."

A massive, wild, chestnut-bodied centaur reared on his thick hind legs and charged down the slope. The herd of roughly two dozen followed him into the clearing, galloping around the boulder, their whipping tails casting long flickering shadows in Fleur's light.

The chestnut-bodied one broke formation and trotted towards them with his bow stretched. "Who are you, humans?" he asked roughly.

Tristan kept his eyes on their pawing hooves and pointy arrowheads. "This is Fleur Delacour," he gestured at Fleur and then at himself, "and I am Tristan Peverell."

The centauri in the surrounding circle shifted restlessly, muttering and tightening their bowstrings.

"I am Magorian, leader of the herd," the chestnut-bodied centaur bellowed. "You're not welcome here, son of Peverell! Your kin brought nothing but blood and fire into our forest!"

Tristan spun his wand in a swirl of black mist. "I lost something here during my last visit. I need it back. It's important to me." He bit back his frustration as the longing swelled in his breast. "Once we have, we'll take our leave and won't ever return."

The centauri pawed the ground in outrage.

"You talk as if you stand as our equal on these lands, human!" Magorian growled. "We consider that a great insult!" He reared again, the thunder of his hooves echoing over the clearing.

"Look!" Fleur breathed into his ear, pointing at Magorian's bare, muscular chest.

A small leather bag dangled from the strap of his quiver, two wand tips poking out from the top.

'Finally!' A flare of triumphant rose in Tristan's breast and he stepped forward. "You have what I lost with you right now." He thrust his wand at the leather bag. "I'd like it back. Please."

"This?" Magorian snarled and ripped off the bag, tossing the two wands to the ground. He reared high, stomping with both hooves and snapping one wand into splinters.

"Come and take it, human!"

The centauri bellowed their approval and laughed raucously. Their wild neighing echoed over the dimly lit clearing and rang in Tristan's ears, stirring the cauldron of rage in his heart to the point it bubbled over.

Black mist flared from his wrists, slicing his sleeves to tatters as he summed the second wand and the splinters into his open palm.

"How dare you, human?!" Magorian roared in rage, his hands flying to his bow and quiver.

Tristan pocketed the wand securely and pulled the splinters out of his open palm one at a time, watching the cuts creep closed. "Now that we have what we came for, we will take our leave."

Another arrow zipped through the air and rammed into the boulder, inches above his head. "You think we will let you walk free from here, boasting that you insulted and bested us?!" Magorian bellowed.

Tristan's magic bled from his wrists in low whispers, creeping around the arrow sticking in the boulder above his head and disintegrating it to ashes.

"I don't wish to fight you." He flexed his fingers around his wand, tasting the cool rush of adrenaline. "But if you don't let us leave or shoot a single arrow at me again, I will slaughter every last one of you."

The centauri screamed in fury, drawing back their strings.

"So be it then." Tristan drew Fleur close to his side and raised his wand like a torch, staring through the heat haze of his magic at two dozen arrowheads pointing at his heart. "Let red stain the pines..."

The centauri let loose. A cloud of arrows smashed into his wall of black magic with eerie rings. Shafts burst into thousands of splinters and gleaming arrowheads rained down to his feet.

"Spears!" Magorian roared.

Half a dozen centauri grabbed wooden stakes as thick as Tristan's arms and almost twice his height. They reared on their hind legs, took a run up, and threw. The spears pierced through his own and Fleur's shield with a screech of steel over glass, one stopping barely an inch from Fleur's throat.

'That almost killed her.'

A cold point of rage swelled in Tristan's breast and he whirled, thrusting out his wand and intercepting a spear as it shattered Fleur's shield.

He grasped his wand with both hands, swinging it like a muggle baseball bat. The spear reared back at twice its speed, impaling the centaur who threw it with its blunt end and launched him a few meters through the air back up the slope.

Magorian gaped at his dead companion, his hairy face wrenching into a mask of rage. "Centauri, attack!"

The herd charged with thundering hooves.

Tristan fused the gleaming arrowheads to his feet into four-pronged spikes. "Gemino." He poured his magic into his creations and scattered them into their path.

The first centauri leaped over the trap. Those who followed screamed in rage as they impaled their hooves, rearing high onto their hind legs and backing into those behind as the spikes multiplied and turned gleaming white hot.

"Sectumsempra!" Tristan struck down isolated centauri with cutting hexes, casting a glance back over his shoulder.

Fleur weaved through arrows and spears alike with grace. Tendrils of white magic blossomed from her like petals from a flower as she twirled her wand in long, smooth strokes. She transfigured the roots along the ground into thin ropes, setting them ablaze and raising them to the height of her waist before hurling them at their attackers.

Front hooves snapped together as the ropes snaked up like fiery serpents, wrapping themselves tightly around torsos, trapping arms and searing so deep through furry bodies, smoke and the stench of burned flesh reeked over the clearing.

Tristan turned back around and strode forward. 'You all chose to be an obstacle.' Smooth elder flashed hot and cold between his fingertips, feasting on his rage. 'Now I'll treat you like one.'

Wisps of black magic curled around his wrists, deflecting arrows as he fired volleys of bone-splintering curses, burying them in a storm of hexes. He ripped off his tattered sleeves and blurred the wand motions together, forcing his arm faster and faster to the rapid drum of his heart.

Colorful spells flashed from the tip of his wand over the clearing, connecting with centauri in bright spurts of blood, screams of agony, and echoing snaps of limbs. Some curses hissed past, punching away entire chunks of trunk from the pines opposite him.

Out of the corner of his eye, Tristan caught a long-bearded centaur charging at him. He twisted around and ducked the path of his arrow, feeling the wind of it whisper past his cheek. Tristan slashed his wand, severing one front leg with a fiery whip.

The centaur roared and stumbled, crashing into him and tossing him backward against the boulder. Pain flared bright across Tristan's back as the air vanished from his lungs and the taste of copper coated his tongue.

He spat out a mouthful of blood and wiped his lips. Tristan thrust out his hand, snatching his wand from the air in a flood of dark mist as he whirled back around. His magic broke free, ripping the centaur apart in a spray of red, shattering his bones and cracking his skull like an egg.

Tristan slowly retreated until he was back-to-back with Fleur again, deflecting back arrows and piercing through the bare chests of the centauri like needles through a bubble of soap.

'I'm fucking tired of this.' He clawed deep for the rage, letting it trickle through his veins like ice until cherry-red flames spewed from his wand in furious whispers. Tristan fed his hatred into the inferno, allowing whispers to swell into piercing screams as he swatted the fiendfyre back.

The flames billowed high, bathing half a dozen centauri in their searing heat, melting flesh of bones and leaving spasming, charred corpses in their wake.

'Fire and blood.' Satisfaction swelled in his breast, so sweet he could taste it on his tongue. It spread into a small smile on his lips as he wiped sweat and ashes from his forehead.

A loud growl sounded from behind him. Magorian charged down the slope at the head of the remaining foursome of centauri, their long hair billowing and the tips of their gleaming spears pointing at Fleur.

Tristan pooled the dancing tongues of cherry-red fire tight together into the blazing coils of a basilisk. Fleur banished the hooves out from underneath the centauri and the basilisk reared its head and lunged, fangs ablaze, snatching the trio behind Magorian and swallowing them whole in a searing snap.

Magorian crawled on his arms through the steaming entrails of his herd. He heaved himself back onto his hooves, dragging one broken leg, his eyes blazing with pure hatred. "You wizards have... no pride... no honor."

Fleur strode towards him with her head held high, wiping stains of blood and ash from her blouse and skirt. "We have magic, centaur." She lit the tip of her wand in a flash of azure and raised it, glowing like a flame in the dark. "You should've thought twice before attacking us over something you can't even wield."

Magorian limped toward the closest spear. "Magic... doesn't give you... a backbone."

Tristan stepped beside Fleur, laughing coldly as he ground his heel on the spear. "And what good is a backbone, Magorian?"

He thrust his wand at the centaur and lifted him up into the air, holding him as the fatigue bit deep into his sore muscles. Tightening the grip of his magic, he wrung his wrist like he turned a key. "Shall we find out together?"

Magorian twitched, his bearded face reddening as his low groans turned into a piercing scream. A column of pale bone burst from his broad chest in a squirt of red. Blueish-purple guts spattered the pine cones as he toppled over, the light fading from his eyes.

Tristan studied the crimson-dripping spine and bright, gleaming points of splintered ribs, slowly spinning them mid-air.

"Nothing," he muttered, letting it thud to the ground. "There's nothing special about a backbone."

He smeared the blood away and patted himself down, allowing himself a deep breath as something pointy poked him from within his pockets.

Tristan drew out the assassin's wand and clutched it in his fist, lips twitching in a flash of wry humor. 'Why do I keep going through hell for pieces of wood?'

A quiet sigh drifted from over his shoulder.

"Fleur." He spun around and pocketed the wand, scooping an arm around her waist to steady her.

"That was more than the short stroll I expected." She squirmed into the crook of his neck, resting her weight against him with a slow breath. "Sometimes I feel like you do this on purpose just to keep me on my toes, non?"

Tristan chuckled. "If things weren't so interesting with me, you'd grow bored and fly away." He brushed his fingers through her long tresses and gently steered her out of the clearing, illuminating their path with a sphere of light. "I'll take you home so you can rest a bit."

Fleur followed his pull, lifting her head off of his shoulder. "Non. I can't meet your family like this." She gestured down at her blood-smeared blouse and skirt, wrinkling her cute nose. "I'm all dirty and smelly."

Tristan helped her over a fallen trunk. "Don't worry. We'll fix ourselves up until we're presentable." He kept one arm around her slim waist as they stumbled the way back through the forest. "And once we're home, you can have a nice relaxing bath for as long as you'd like."

A small smirk spread over her red lips. "You're only offering that hoping I'd let you join me."

"Actually, I'm not sure if I want to join you." An image of Fleur in a bubble-filled bathtub drifted by his inner eye and he grinned. "You probably prefer your water much closer to the boiling point than I do."

"You'll be too distracted to let that bother you anyway," Fleur murmured, stifling a yawn. "How much longer, mon coeur?"

A swarm of butterflies fluttered through his stomach. "Only a bit further." He gestured to where faint light spilled through gaps in the branches and the pines grew less dense. "Over there's the end of the wardline."

"That's it," Tristan said as a familiar sensation prickled down his spine. "We've made it, Fleur." He checked for the wand again, flashing her a glimpse of it. "And we've got what we came for."

"Finalement," Fleur huffed, resting against one of the pines by the edge of the forest and glancing down her front with pursed red lips. "Merde. This was one of my favorite outfits."

"It's okay." Tristan grinned. "I'll buy you a new one from my-"

Her eyes flashed dark and he held up his hands in surrender, offering her a wry grin. "Désolée."

"Now you'll have to buy two outfits to make it up to me." She ran her wand over the stains, sucking blood and ash from the fabric. Then she cleaned her face as Tristan mirrored her and redid her hair.

"Ready?" He held out his hand.

"Non," Fleur pouted. "But I really want my bath."

"You'll get it in a second, but first I'm afraid you'll have to endure our wards." Tristan grimaced, a little niggle of worry eating at him. "They're very sensitive to new arrivals so I'm sorry in advance and promise to make it all up to you, okay?"

"Bon," she held his eye with a little gleam and slipped her fingers through his, squeezing them gently. "Take me to your home."

Tristan tightened his hold and wrenched the world back past him, stumbling from crunched pines onto the balcony of North Dawn Manor.

Fleur tensed in his arms, her fingernails digging through his robes.

Worry stabbed through him, twisting in his stomach. "Are you okay?" He held her tight, brushing silver curls from her forehead. "I promise it'll fade in a few seconds, just take a deep breath and-"

"I'm... fine," Fleur wheezed, "but you're... squeezing my chest... and it's hard... to breathe."

"Wait what?" Tristan startled and let go of her at once, meeting blue eyes barely a hue darker than the summer sky. "How? I mean- uhm - I don't understand-"

"Tristan?" His mother called from inside. "Is that you?"

The slight curve of a belly protruded out the doorway, then the rest of her followed.

"Tristan, I didn't know you were coming early!" His mother's eyes shone with warmth and she rushed outside, pausing for a second in her step before engulfing him tightly. "I didn't know you were bringing a guest either. How long have you two been up here already?"

"It was just a little surprise." Tristan pried himself out of her hug, cautious of her belly. "And we actually just arrived."

"Just now?" His mother swiftly turned to Fleur, holding her hand as they exchanged kisses on each cheek. "Are you alright, dear? I do hope my son warned you that we have some very protective wards on our home?"

"Oui, he did." Fleur smiled. "But I'm already doing fine. Merci, Madame Peverell."

"You do?" His mother's eyebrow rose to unknown heights. "Really?"

"Oui." Fleur nodded again, slipping her fingers through his. "It was a bit uncomfortable at first but Tristan made it better."

"Interesting." His mother's expression shifted from surprise to curiosity, her eyes flickering from their interlaced hands to Fleur's belly. "But all the better. Welcome to North Dawn Manor, Fleur. Right now it's just me and-"

"Tristan!" Something blonde dashed out onto the balcony, hurling itself into his stomach and giggling madly.

He spun Aurelia around before setting her back down, rumpling her hair "Hey, my little ball of energy."

She giggled mischievously, probing their mother's belly with her fingers. "I'm not a ball. Mommy is all round!"

Tristan shot her a wink. "And her stomach will grow even bigger," he whispered behind his hand. "Soon she'll be as round as a Christmas goose."

Aurelia's high giggles died and her lips parted as she stared up at Fleur with wide green eyes. "Wow," she blurted. "You're sooo pretty."

Fleur's soft laughter filled the balcony as she gracefully crouched down, flattening out the wrinkles in her skirt and offering her hand. "Merci beaucoup, ma belle. My name is Fleur."

His sister clutched the hand with her small fingers, shaking it enthusiastically. "I'm Aurelia but I don't speak French yet." Her tiny brows knitted together in a frown. "Mommy said we're starting with German first."

"I just returned your compliment." Fleur smiled, brushing a golden curl behind Aurelia's tiny ear. "You're very pretty as well."

"Not as pretty as you." She claps for a silver lock, studying it with a beaming smile before pouting up at her mother. "Mommy, can you change my hair to silver so I can look like Fleur? Please?"

His mother scooped Aurelia up in her arms, a small smile playing on her lips as she rolled her eyes. "You're much too young to color your hair already, little lady." She glanced over her daughter at them. "Are you staying for dinner, Fleur?"

Fleur straightened and stepped back to Tristan. "Oui. If it is no bother, I hope?"

"Of course not, dear, you're very welcome to stay as long as you'd like." His mother's eyes drifted up from their attached arms and bored into him, sparkling like the sun in a glacier. "I'll have Dobby prepare a guest room for you."

"Thanks." Tristan held back his grin, steering Fleur towards the doors leading inside. "I'll show Fleur around the Manor after we've freshened up a bit."

"Dinner's at six," she called after them. "Your father will be back with Valeria and Galahad by then so do be on time, please!"

Tristan pulled Fleur around the corner and apparated them up into the bathroom, pressing a kiss to the tip of her nose. "And there we are..."

Fleur wriggled out of his embrace. "Someone's very eager to get me in their bathtub." She laughed softly, walking from the double sink past the open shower to the wide sunken bathtub by the corner. "I need to inspect it first, non?"

Tristan locked the door with a tap of his wand, then stepped behind her and slid his arms around her waist, drawing her back against him as he pressed kisses to her neck. "Does it pass your test?"

She bent and opened the taps, holding his eyes with a little smirk as she twisted it further and further to the right until faint vapor twirled from the gurgling pipes. "We shall see soon."

Tristan grinned. "I'm sure I've suffered through worse."

Fleur perused the bottles of lotions by the edge of the tub, deciding on several muggle brands and pouring generous amounts into the rising water. "Turn around for a moment, s'il te plait." She toyed one finger under the strap of her blouse, catching his eye with a wicked little gleam. "And don't peek in the mirror. I'll know if you do..."

Faint heat whispered through his veins as he turned around and closed his eyes shut. He wrestled with the soft twist of temptation tugging at his heart as fabric rustled to the floor and water splashed behind him.

"Bon. You can look now."

He turned back around.

Fleur smirked up at him from within the steaming tub, her skirt, blouse, and something red and lacy piling before it. Damp silver locks sneaked down her bare shoulders, over the delicate line of her collarbone, and to the swell of her breasts, half hidden behind the bubbles.

Tristan swallowed a fistful of emotion as his heart hammered against his rips. 'She's so beautiful.'

He fished the assassin's wand out of his pocket and placed it on the counter by the sink before tugging off his robes and tossing them away. 'Tomorrow we'll find out who your owner was. '

"How's the water?"

Her smirk faded to a soft warm smile beneath bright blue eyes, sending his heart flopping as she held out her hand for him. "Join me and find out."