Honeysuckle

"Hey, Death…" Ione Dorea Potter absentmindedly called out, her feet propped up on the table laden with unorganized chaos, a pen twirling in between her fingers.

A swirling dark figure materialized in front of her, a shadow it once was until it formed into a figure of a man in a suit, looking handsome and impeccable and just utterly perfect she had the urge to throw her pen straight at him.

Well, almost.

"You rang?" the man sweetly purred, sensual and smooth like melted dark chocolate waiting to be dipped with something.

Ione thought about fruits. Fresh, juicy fruits would go exceptionally well with chocolate.

Ione stared at his smirking face, contemplative and judging, before saying, "I don't recognize that face you're wearing. Is that someone else's?"

Death shook his head before halting, considering, "I don't think someone has this face yet. It's just a combination of features from a few people I've seen. I tried my hand in blending some of their favorable attributes to see if the result was something you might like. Why do you ask? Is it to your liking?"

She continued to stare at him for another moment before nodding, a grin stretched across her face, "I love it. You look gorgeous."

The man's smirk turned into a full-blown sunny smile, looking visibly pleased for the compliment, "Thank you, Ione."

"You shouldn't wear it when you go out though. The humans will think you look too perfect and then where will you be, hmm? Probably strapped on a wooden cross just waiting to be publicly burned."

Death scoffed and waved a hand, unconcerned, "Details. They can't do something unless I let them."

There was a crease on her forehead when she remembered who she's currently talking to, "That's true. I forgot."

Death chuckled huskily, fond and amused, "Silly Ione." A chair appeared on his side and Death took his seat, trying to make himself comfortable before asking, "So, what did my darling Mistress call me for?"

"Oh, right." Ione straightened up on her seat, remembering her objective, "How long has it been since I last took a vacation again?"

"Almost around three hundred years now. Are you planning on going somewhere?" he inquired, distastefully looking at the mess on her table before giving her a pointed look.

"I swear I'll take care of these before I dash away," she instantly replied.

Death gave her a gauging look before saying, "You better. The last reaper you left with your clutter basically bawled and desperately begged to be reassigned in the Upper World for a thousand years. A surprising dedication but I took pity on the soul and sent him away anyway."

Ione sent him a nasty glare, "That was your fault. If you hadn't rushed me into leaving, I would've finished the bloody paperwork. You didn't even have the grace to tell me it would take years to properly resolve everything."

Death scowled, an unpleasant mar on his perfect face, and argued back, "Perhaps if you hadn't procrastinated too much, you wouldn't have left countless number of paperwork needed to be done when you arrived." He sighed deeply, a hand on his forehead, before saying, "But we're off the point. Have you any ideas on where you're planning to go?"

She replied with a grimace, "Not really. I just realized I haven't gone out of this place in a very long time and just had the urge to suddenly go. Got any exciting places for me to go?"

Death mulled it over before eventually suggesting, "There is an interesting place you might want to go. However, they have their own higher beings and they might not like us trespassing on their territory so I'm going to have to check and see it for myself first."

She rubbed her hands together in excitement and anticipation, "Neat. I'll wait for you to come back then."

Death nodded, "Alright." He stood up and gestured a hand at her table, "In the meantime, you take care of these first or you won't be going anywhere."

"Not like you can stop me," she grumbled under her breath, adding in a much louder voice, "It'll be spotless in no time!"

He gave her a shrewd look, "Hmm… I'm sure." He turned around and waved a hand over his shoulder, saying, "I'll be back shortly."

And then he was gone.

Ione tackled her paperwork with unwavering determination, wanting to get everything done and over with as soon as possible so she could get out of this dull and unexciting place, all the while thinking about how her life had turned out when she unknowingly possessed and united the three Hallows despite splitting them up right after.

Many years passed and she was still the same, so unlike her friends who'd been steadily growing white hairs and showing gradual crinkles on their skins. She remained youthful and full of life as the world aged around her, seeking answers as to why it was happening―she never did start her own family except for the ones she already had―but they never did find one until the day Death popped before her and told her what she was and what the title entailed.

She'd been full of bitterness and contempt at first, completely in denial over the fact that she would remain alive and unchanging, robbed of the sweet, eternal rest and was instead driven into hiding, fearful of the aftermath that would arise should the world catch on that she was now too different.

People did still have the fear of the unexplainable unknown and the exceedingly powerful.

That was someone she'd become after all.

She'd been a right mess for years, completely pushed to the edge when Teddy's youngest daughter left the mortal lands. She didn't have the courage to stay for her godson's remaining living family, deciding to leave and wander all around the world after a long and heartbreaking goodbye.

She'd raged and had been stubborn, trying all sorts of things just to end her life, only to find out her attempts had been futile. It had been a tiresome journey but Ione managed to pull through in the end.

It had been a slow progress, like baby steps, but an improvement nonetheless. She gradually took up her responsibilities with the dead, hesitant and uncertain about the entire premise of her job at first, but those weren't something experience couldn't fix.

Seasons changed and years passed by, Ione lived through it all, a passive observer she became as she witnessed empires rise and fall, wars waged and then some semblance of peace attained, towers, monuments and buildings taken down and being rebuilt.

It certainly kept her from getting bored, kept her from creating chaos and wreaking havoc herself just to see what the humans would do in another time of crisis.

Having the ability to communicate with the dead was a pleasant bonus and a definite help―Hermione and her mum's still-existent morals were somewhat keeping her in line. The twins, Sirius and her dad being her primary enablers to blow things up and get wild―an ability that Death told her much, much later.

She'd been sore about that particular one for days.

Still, she mused as she perused the gibberish written on the paper, everything worked out in the end. If she got a bit lonely, it wasn't something a little visit couldn't fix, and she'd already done so a couple of times. She wanted to get out into the world this time though, tired of being enclosed in this hovel for too long. She deserved a little break from all this madness.

People thought that being the Mistress of Death was all wonderful and dandy. Well, it wasn't.

The paperworks were more demanding than the job itself and up to now, Ione wasn't even sure what her work was, even with the tacky title. Sure, being the Master of Death will make them powerful to the point of being invincible but if they manage to stick much, much, much longer than that they'd find themselves with a desk job, with the bonus of odd and spontaneous trips to other worlds to personally take care of some being's death they don't care about.

She should really commission for someone to spread the news and change the title.

She especially and absolutely abhorred wars. It wasn't because of the countless casualties, both young and old―apparently, being exposed to the dead for a very long time has made her lose most of her moral compass―but rather, it was about the endless paperwork she had to do to get the influx of souls moving, to get them to simply move on into their next great adventure.

One would think everything was plain simple when they're dead. They should read the bloody fine print.

In conclusion, Ione was stuck with the job until Death deems her alright to move forward and completely be with the rest of her family and friends. Until then, she'll just have to find ways to continuously amuse herself.

-o-

"You certainly took your time," she spoke out in slight surprise as he appeared beside her.

Death grimaced, still wearing the same face he created, "I apologize. There were a few details I had to take care of but nonetheless, you are free to go whenever you wish." He considered her immaculately empty table and commented in a dry tone, "I forgot how indubitably efficient you are when you're motivated."

"Of course! It only took me three hundred years to decide that I'll be going out after all. I need to give it my best," she easily replied as she made an arrogant show of flipping her long, raven hair.

"Almost," he reiterated before puckering his lips into a pout, angling his head in a way that made him look ridiculously endearing, whining, "Don't you like spending time with me in here?"

Ione made a face as she waved a dismissing hand, "Don't do that. That face isn't meant to look cute." She sagged on her seat and grumbled, "And you don't get to say that when you rarely visit me anyway. You've been consistently roaming around causing mayhem you didn't even consider asking me if I wanted to go with you. Is this another one of your ploys to get me to stay again?"

Death bent and placed his head on top of hers, rubbing himself on her as if he was a cat begging to be petted, "Not at all. I merely thought you were having your own fun and I didn't have it in me to disturb you. I didn't even realize you've missed me. If I did, I would've dropped anything I was doing and immediately ran to you."

Ione grabbed a few of his tresses and lightly pulled, nonchalantly saying, "I didn't. I'm just missing out the fun, is all. I need a holiday. Probably a long one too."

"And what about your work?" Death kept on rubbing his head, silently trying to get a point across and Ione eventually relented, stroking his hair, not the least bothered about him being uncomfortable, being bent in an awkward angle like that. He probably didn't mind anyway.

She grunted, unconcerned, "It's not like I'm going to be disappear for a very long time. It can wait a millennium or two. I'm not going to make the same mistake of assigning some random reaper this time though, and just let Hermione take care on some of it if it piles up too much." She shrugged her shoulders, dislodging his head from its perch, "You still haven't told me where I'm going."

He gave her a saucy wink, "It'll be a surprise. You'll get to see all sorts of creatures in there, you'll love it! It's fairly behind the times though. No technologies and those whirring machines you dislike so it'll be perfect."

"Hmm… Wanna come with?"

His current grey eyes took on an unnatural glimmer before it turned dull after a very short moment, his slim form drooping as he dejectedly mumbled, "I'll have to stay behind while you go off gallivanting." He perked up again really quickly, "However, that doesn't mean I can't pay you a visit. You know I'll always find you wherever you are at the moment."

"That's disturbing," she quipped.

Death laughed, giving her a few pats on the top of her head like she was an adorable, silly child, immediately thinking that she really was, considering he was practically ancient.

He tweeted, sounding entirely amused, "You make it sound like that's something new, love. You're my Mistress. Of course, I'll be in tune with you."

"People who doesn't know any better will still find that unsettling," she asserted, crossing a leg on top of the other in a huffy kind of way.

Death made a musing sound before saying, "That's true."

"Still, I want to know at least something about the place I'm going. I want to be prepared for whatever I'm going to encounter in that place and you keeping details isn't helping," she firmly insisted.

He sighed and sat on top of her table, caving in, "Alright, alright. Hmm, let's see… In that place, you're likely to come across nasty Orcs and Goblins, some breed being made by a Dark Lord…"

"Oh, great. Another Dark Lord," she moaned in despair, hunching over her table, "What an excellent start."

Death rolled his eyes, "When isn't there a Dark Lord? Whatever world there is, there's always going to be an evil overlord trying to force whatever morals and principles they have." He paused and thoughtfully frowned, "That or they simply want to subjugate. For sport. You never really know what goes on inside their heads."

She whipped a hopeful yet anxious gaze at him as she pleaded, "Please don't tell me that what I'm thinking is true."

"And what would that be?" came the mischievous reply.

"That you're only recommending that place because I need to slay the Dark Lord wannabe."

"Not a wannabe. He's already achieved that part." A pause before he drawled out, "And what if I was?"

She groaned and tried not to express her immense displeasure. Because, really? She had to take care of another one?

Bloody hell, no.

"Then I'll have to decline your offer... and find somewhere peaceful so I can enjoy delightful afternoon teas." A longing sigh before she mumbled, "I miss eclairs. And shepherd's pies. Treacle tarts too."

Death let out a hum, carding his fingers gently through her hair as he eventually replied, "Then I am honored to say that you're in luck, my dear."

"Why?"

"Because you won't be slaying anyone. Or anything for that matter. Well, that depends really. How else are you going to defend yourself?"

"Magic, of course," she easily answered before registering what he said. She turned her head to look at him, her face cracking a beaming smile, "Truly?"

"Truly," he parroted with a nod, "Designs are already in place and fates are being sewed. You could try and help but the decisions are yours to make. It isn't going to change anything for the worse."

Ione drew out a huge sigh of relief, "Oh, that's good. One way or another, I'll be getting those afternoon teas. You'll see!"

"Hmm, I'm sure you will. If you know exactly where to look."

"So, what else is there?" she prodded eagerly.

"Well, there are pretty Elves that live in very pretty areas. You could drop by their dwellings and learn what you can. They're considered wise and long-lived but still susceptible to grave injuries and death and their libraries will be a massive source of information for you… if you want to learn that world on that particular route. That one has seen their own taste of wars."

"What world doesn't?" she cheekily remarked.

Death pinched her cheek before placing it back on her head, resuming his previous ministrations as he continued, "There are talking, mystical trees, enchanted forests and equally dark creatures. Animal shifters too, though that distinct race is sadly getting fewer and fewer. There is the spreading race of humans, gullible and still has a weakness for power. Not like it's anything new. Anyone could desire having it, especially when they're still governed by monarchy... among other things."

"Ughh, arranged marriages a popular thing then?"

"Absolutely. You know how it goes… The more allies, the better and superior the kingdom. Hmm... what else, what else… Ah! Almost forgot the Dwarves. They're excellent craftsmen, I believe, but they've taken to living under mountains where the precious stones are. Wizards are there as well but they'll come in on the later years. They're not like the great numbers your first world had though, probably barely even reaching the number of all the fingers on both hands," he drily said.

"What a small number," she idly murmured, the fingers on her hair soothing and definitely lulling her to sleep. She doesn't need to but it was one of the few pleasures she would indulge whenever she wanted to.

That and eating. Food still has its special way of uplifting her immortal body and soul.

Death agreed with a snicker, "Right? There will only be five of them and they'll be color-coded too. The highest hierarchy of them all being white. They will cross vast and turbulent seas to help restore balance and goodness in that world but even their most powerful wizard will soon be easily swayed by the seductive clutches of evil. Formidable but a fool nevertheless." He dropped a kiss on her head, teasing, "So different from my precious Ione, who once thought she could get rid of the Hallows if she were to simply toss them off some cliff like boring, old rocks."

Ione huffed, feeling a tad irritable at being reminded of how silly she'd been. He'd made the same, apathetic comment a few times before and she'd been a bad-tempered bitch about it, still full of angst and boiling anger, the hurt still fresh in the recesses of her mind and body.

"Well, it didn't work, did it?" she snarked.

"It didn't," he answered, trying to sound morose but not really succeeding.

She scoffed before sardonically saying, "You still suck at empathizing. You really should just stop trying."

Death lightly tugged on her hair before threading them through her hair once more, "I was so sure I was doing better at it. Oh, well. I shall strive harder next time."

"Looking forward to it," she blearily drawled, making a few attempts to shake him, "Tell me more."

Death hummed, contemplative, "War is brewing and another one is lurking, though that last one won't be evident for a couple years more. I believe it all started when one of the gods became too evil and kept waging war against the fellow gods. He's gathered himself some loyal followers, one in particular, and created his own foul creatures, similarly turning some of his brethren's creations into dark and vile beings. Wars kept on happening until a couple of rings were eventually forged and were given to the Elves, Dwarves and Men.

Three rings were given to the Elves, seven to the Dwarf-lords and nine to the kings of Men. I haven't got a clue on what happened to the Dwarves. Most of their kind have retreated into the deepest of the mountains, continuously digging out precious resources and gold. The Elves took great lengths to take care of theirs, which doesn't really surprise me even just a little considering they're the wisest. The nine kings though... The rings have slowly turned them into awful-looking wraiths, their allegiance solely to the Dark Lord."

"Horcruxes?"

"Not quite, though the last ring made in secret sort of is. I heard you'll become the most powerful of all when you have it," he answered, a bit distracted as he tried to remember some certain details.

"Wonderful. Anyone can easily use the damn thing then?" she remarked, lethargically scouring for his hand and urging him to resume caressing her head.

Death fondly chuckled, acquiescing her request, "Of course not. The ring has a mind of its own. It's going to twist everything that the bearer has until they become its unattractive servant. Besides, its loyalty is to its one true master. You can use it but it will use you in return. Did I mention it's going to be misplaced soon?"

Ione opened an eye, not recalling when she'd close them, and blearily looked at him, "Misplaced? That Dark Lord must be inept. I bet I'd do a better job than him if I decided to become a Dark Lady."

Death drily responded, "Planning to become one soon then? I'd offer you my full and undying support."

Ione softly snorted, "I said 'if'. I won't like the paperwork that will go with it if I do become one."

"You could always acquire a few minions to do the most tedious of work," he suggested, sounding extremely hopeful.

Ione mustered to send him a baleful glare, bracing herself on the table for a bit, "And they'll most likely muck it up and in the end, I'll be redoing all the work. As if this one didn't already have enough things to do. Yes, a splendid idea." She slumped back, yawned and murmured, "What else?"

He looked down and let out a chuckle, hopping off the table and embracing her in his arms, nuzzling his face on her hair, "That's enough storytelling for today, I think."

"But I want to know what happens next and who gets the ring," she whinged, trying to get herself to stay awake to hear more stories and failing, heavily enticed to succumb in sleep's wonderful embrace.

He let out a huff, faintly saying, "You'll get VIP seats as you witness the happenings of Middle-Earth if you stay long enough. Besides, you have no need for a boring, drab ring when you have me."

And Death, with his Mistress on his arms, languidly made his way towards the door and out of her office.