Knowing
Round One of Choice Pairing at HPFC- Voldemort/Bellatrix, with prompts a king never dies and dreams
Disclaimer: The world and characters of Harry Potter do not belong to me. Feel free to review! I love them.
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The Dark Lord understands you. He loves you- but he cannot love, he does not, and you know that too, dear (don't call me that!).
When you sleep, it is his face you see. His penetrating voice whispers to you to the way only he speaks- deadly, soft, and dangerous, and more exciting than anything you know.
But dreams are not real, and he does not love you (yes he does, don't say things like that, or I'll start to believe them.).
So you shake your head at yourself (he loves me). And when you are not working for your Lord's grand cause, you sleep your days away.
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The Dark Lord is immortal. You know because he has told you so- and of course he would not lie to you, dear (what did I say about that?).
And after all those years in Azkaban, you are free once again, and you will rule the world with him. He has told you that you will be his queen, forever and ever.
You dream of standing beside him, a crown on your wild dark hair and triumph in your heavy-lidded eyes, and you know that this will happen, because he loves you.
You glance up at the golden cup every time you enter your vault, just to ensure that it hasn't moved- and of course it hasn't; only your family can open this vault, and no one will betray you, after what happened to little Regulus so long ago.
Someday, sooner than the fools who call themselves "The Light" know, he will be king (oh yes, yes, everyone will be in their rightful place.). And it's difficult to wait, but wait you will. Without Dumbledore, they will weaken quickly.
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The Dark Lord is yours. Well, perhaps he is not, but he will be- keep telling yourself that, dear (damn it, shut up! I have a wand and you do not want to make me use it!).
He will be yours, forever and ever, because a king never dies- those long years between lives do not count, after all. He was alive, waiting for you, and now that he is with you, there's no stopping you.
You are awoken from your sleep by Rodolphus. He tells you that it is time.
And yes, oh yes, it's time. You know that will win tonight, and your Lord will finally take his place at the head of your new society. Your wand is at home in your hand, sending curses faster than screams pierce the air, and this is right.
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The Dark Lord has fallen beside the Boy! You drop to your knees and implore him to stand- "My Lord, My Lord,"- and of course he is okay, you knew he would be, because a king never dies. You wipe your face- crying, dear? (shut up shut up shut up, I'm not afraid to Cruciate you.)
And the Boy is dead, and you won't need to dream anymore, because this is reality and the triumph choking you is better than anything you dreamed of.
You laugh as you march back to the castle- you've won.
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The Dark Lord is being defied! How dare they, how dare they? Not that you are any better, dear (this is getting ridiculous now).
You snarl as you duel some little girls. You know who you are- the Dark Lord's greatest servant, a true queen of darkness- and no teenager will take you down.
And you hear a curse and you turn- "Not my daughter, you bitch!" and you laugh, for it is only the plump Weasel. Then you're dueling and she's good for a blood-traitor, and any dreams wafting through your head dissipate. You try to concentrate.
But she looks so angry and it's such a funny picture that you laugh, an exhilarated laugh born of adrenaline and power and the slash of your wand, and then it's over.
And you live in dreams, falling forever and ever and ever- just what you wanted, dear- and the best part, the worst part, is knowing that your Lord will never truly join you (a king never dies, and I know that).