Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘣𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘥𝘴𝘩𝘦𝘥, 𝘤𝘳𝘪𝘮𝘴𝘰𝘯 𝘤𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳

𝘶𝘩-𝘩𝘶𝘩, 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘰𝘮𝘣𝘴 𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘤𝘭𝘰𝘴𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘥

VALERIA GENOVEVA RUBIO emerged from the essence of rubies and gold, the quintessence of the sun incarnate—resplendent gold from a distance, yet an intense carmine for those who dared to draw near. Gold, the emblem of enlightenment, love, ardor, mysticism, and sagacity. The ruby's sanguine sheen undoubtedly evoked potent connections to the vital fluid coursing through her veins. Her forebears, cloaked in their signature vermilion and gold, bore these hues with a pride that heralded their dominion and affluence to the corners of the earth. They were impregnable, as was she. And in this, she found her rapture—the keen maroon gemstones that cleaved her skin, the golden ichor that seeped out, infusing her with an overwhelming vitality; her name itself a beacon for her enduring legacy. Yet, within this splendor lurked a shadow of disdain and aversion, the very essence of her adoration morphing into the curse of her existence. It was a commitment, the vermilion decree. Had she invoked the ire of the god of war? Had her lineage transgressed against the goddess of affection? Was she under a curse wrought by an irate Hades? If the deities themselves could find no solace in their deepest yearnings, what right had a mere mortal to luxuriate in what was denied to the gods? Thus, perhaps, the envious gods imbued the hapless maiden with a profound fear of the tranquil prelude to turmoil. The golden serpent, forever cherishing those she could never truly hold, and venerating those who could not revere her in return.

THOUGH THE MAJORITY may never regard them in the same light as Caesars or Plantagenets, the pure-blooded aristocracy of the wizarding realm saw themselves as parallels. Those, whose lineages extended into the mists of time and memory, with magic coursing through their veins, considered themselves divinely ordained. The crimson fluid, vital to life yet cursed as an emblem of demise, revered as a mark of distinction among men yet invariably identical as it spills onto the frigid earth, engendered a nearly sacred fascination among them. To preserve its purity was their solemn duty, thus leaving nothing to chance. Blood, akin to a fragile sapling, required cultivation, protection, and, when necessary, pruning. Only then could it ascend to the majesty of a grand and noble oak. Not merely blood but gold too, for what is a sovereign tree devoid of its foliage? This was Valeria's ordeal. Despite this, Valeria cherished, shielded, and obsessed. She found solace in the belief that her destiny would not be marred by cruelty. Yet, her faith betrayed her. She was blind to the deception of her beloved. Upon unveiling the treachery, her heart was rent asunder. Her grace, intellect, and zeal—were they merely bestowed upon her that she, akin to a prized steed, might be bartered to the highest bidder, sold for her equivalence in precious metals? The serpent was merely a spectacle to be admired and traded, but never genuinely loved. The deities of love and conflict benevolently endowed her with the fortitude to pursue her desires, yet the deity of demise in turn cursed her, yoking her to a fate most dire. For if the god of demise could not keep his beloved by his side, neither would she. The heiress rebelled, tearing at her gilded restraints. The illusion of love and sanctuary was merely a cage, designed to ensnare. It promised luxury, wealth, connections, even affection. Yet, it was a venom, sweet yet lethal. It is the rarest, most luminous birds that are plucked from their freedom and encased within golden cages. That cage, wrought of gold, resplendent, pliable, pure? Nay, but fool's gold, that beguiling element, a lure for the unwary, ever so captivating with its false promises of bliss and contentment.

DOOMED WAS SHE to be one of those exquisite captives. An adornment, a treasure to flaunt and vaunt. Bred for no greater purpose. This was her legacy; this was her destiny. Yet, she would not yield, for it contradicted her essence; she was incapable. Whether as blessing or curse, it was her legacy to resist. Born a Rubio—with the ancient blood of Martells pulsing through her veins—she was bound to defiance, the blood within her forbade capitulation. That blood would challenge defeat until its last droplets were absorbed by the dust of the earth. She was incapable of surrender, the blood which flowed through her forbade it. That blood would defy defeat till its last drops had drained onto that dust of the earth, which, in the end, must bare all man's sorrow and sin. Only the gods would have mercy on those so imbecilic as to stand in her way. Valeria would obtain her heart's desire, and if it was not meant for the possession of mortals, she would decimate those who stand in her way, seeking to be divine.

❝ 𝐓𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐡𝐮𝐦𝐚𝐧 𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐬 𝐛𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐚 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐫,

𝐚 𝐰𝐚𝐫 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐟𝐞𝐚𝐫. ❞

―𝐀𝐥𝐞𝐱𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐆𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭

CAST

Bruna Marquezine

as VALERIA GENOVENA RUBIO

❝ 𝘤𝘢𝘳𝘪ñ𝘰, 𝘪 𝘥𝘰𝘯'𝘵 𝘤𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘪𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘬𝘺 𝘣𝘭𝘦𝘦𝘥𝘴...𝘪 𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘨𝘦𝘵 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘪 𝘥𝘦𝘴𝘪𝘳𝘦 ❞

Désiré Mia

as BLAISE ZABINI

❝ 𝘤𝘢𝘳𝘢 𝘮𝘪𝘢, 𝘪𝘧 𝘪𝘵 𝘪𝘴 𝘢 𝘸𝘢𝘳 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵, 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘢 𝘸𝘢𝘳 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘴𝘩𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘨𝘦𝘵 ❞

WITH

Lupita Nyong'o ― MARISOL LUCARELLI

Andrea Chaparro ― MARIA-ANGEL DELGADO

Lorenzo Zurzolo ― SANTIAGO EMILIO LOPEZ