Sweeter Than All the Roses
Chapter One
Narcissa Welsh
The crisp air felt good to his lungs. Lucius Malfoy walked down the dirt road silently with his one-year-younger sister, Ariel. This is ridiculous, Lucius thought. I have better things to do with my time than meet France's Dark Magic royalty. Glancing at Ariel to see her expression, Lucius saw what he always saw. A small, ice cold smile playing on her beautiful face framed by strands of black hair and cold lilac eyes. Her amethyst dress swished and swayed with every step she gracefully took. She looked quite innocent, omit the cruelty in the eyes.
But Lucius knew her better. He knew she was lewd and michievous and quite blunt when it came to his needs. Although she was younger, it was she who sometimes looked out for Lucius. This bothered him for he was supposedly the man of the house, but her clever insight and ability to sense things that aren't seen made her superior.
"And there they are," murmured Ariel suddenly. She gave Lucius a fake, but somewhat realistic smile. "Put those smiles on, dear Lucius. Its time to greet the guests."
Looking up the road at which an ashen carriage rolled up with snow white horses, Lucius grumbled, "I don't see why we have to invite them to stay at our house."
"Because they're the French Dark Arts royalty," said Ariel impatiently. "It'll be good for our social standings. Besides," she added delicately. "I hear they have an extremely beautiful daughter.."
Lucius immediately drank in this piece of information. "Oh no," snorted Lucius, rolling his eyes. "I am happy being a bachelor. You are not setting me up with anybody."
"We'll see," drawled Ariel mysteriously with a broadening smile.
Before Lucius could say anything, they had reached the horses. The carriage door opened, and he was complied to bow down grudgingly as a portly man with a few clumps of straw hair on his balding head and laughing silver eyes lumbered down the steps and immediately stuck out his hand for Lucius. "Hello, Lucius," bellowed the man. "Why, last time I saw you, you were just a wee boy."
This is France's Dark Arts king? thought Lucius. He looks more like the burger king. Forcing a somewhat pasty smile, Lucius shook his hand. "Hello, Mr. Welsh." He kept his face straight as his skin touched the mushy and damp hand of the opposing man. Quickly wiping his palm on his slacks hastily, Lucius held out his hand for Mrs. Welsh.
This time it was harder to show no expression as a smooth, unwrinkled hand placed itself smoothly on his. As he gently held the hand up, a thin and wiry woman ivory hair and lime eyes stepped out with her nose in the air. "Hello, Lucius boy," said the woman blankly.
Lucius smiled a sickingly fake smile. "Hello, Mrs. Welsh. Mr. and Mrs. Alexander Welsh, may I please present my sister, Ariel." He watched with great amusement as Ariel couldn't help but grimace when Mr. Welsh pecked her cheeks with his wet lips, or when she frowned slightly at Mrs. Welsh's walnut colored dress. Lucius knew how much Ariel hated the color brown. He again raised his hand to be taken by the so-called beautiful daughter. He awaited the presence of a hand apprehensively. The hand, however, never came.
He looked up . . . and laid eyes on an angel.
Light lemon hair flowed like streams down her shoulders and her pale delft eyes shone with happiness and contentment with life. That's strange, thought Lucius. Her family's involved in the Dark Arts, and yet, she's quite jolly. With flawless skin the color of cream, her cheeks were tinted with hints of rose. Her crimson flame dress was cut in a very low square-neck and puffs of marble white lace sprung from the elbows. The dress trailed like spilled wine behind her. In her delicate hands clutched a white sun umbrella. She swept away from his hand gracefully and merely curtsied when she stepped out of the carriage on her own.
How very . . . independent, thought Lucius nastily, getting over the shock of this celestial apparition in front of him. I'm guessing she's a tart who's never worked at anything. Probably has the brain the size of a bean.
Lucius started to lead the way to the grand doorway, thinking about what a nuisance this was all going to be. Why his home? Why not Snape's, or Zabini's?
While thoughts were racing through Lucius head, Mr. Welsh beamed and said with pride, "Lucius, Ariel, this is my daughter, Narcissa."
Straightening up more, Lucius waved a hand at Ariel. "Narcissa, I don't believe you've been my sister, Ariel Malfoy."
"Hello, Narcissa," he heard Ariel say softly in her sophisticated voice reserved just for guests and strangers. Her voice was light and dainty. What an actress, thought Lucius. "Welcome to Malfoy Manor."
Lucius saw Narcissa smile politely. "Thank you."
When they reached the dark mahogany double doors, he gave a tiny sigh of annoyance. Ariel snapped her head up quickly and gave Lucius a look, then turned to the Welshs and said pleasantly, "Let me show you to your rooms. I fear my brother has some business to attend to, and it would be best if he was left alone." Smiling dully, she led the way into the mansion.
After watching them retreat into the North Wing of the mansion, Lucius headed in the opposite direction and did not stop until he reached his bedroom.
* * * * *
After Ariel purposely showed Mr. and Mrs. Welsh to their rooms, Ariel started to walk Narcissa towards the South Wing, where, unbeknowest to Narcissa, was where Lucius's bedroom was. To Ariel's annoyance, Narcissa was very bubbly and cheerful.
"I am afraid that there are no more available bed chambers in the North Wing. I hope you can settle for something in the South wing, although I sympathize with you if you would miss your parents a great deal," said Ariel with fake understanding.
Narcissa laughed out loud. "I don't think you have to worry about that," said Narcissa lightly as they stopped suddenly next to a set of double doors.
Ariel pushed them open slowly, and Narcissa almost gasped at the sight. Furnished with the finest, polished marble as furniture, and blue bedsheets, curtains, and pillows, not to mention the pale sky carpet, the room was breathtakingly gorgeous. "Oh wow," breathed Narcissa with big eyes. "It's so beautiful."
"It's just a room," said Ariel cooly. "And it's yours." She strolled quietly towards the door and stepped outside. "Dinner will be in ten minutes," she called before shutting the door. "Freak," she muttered under her breath while ambling towards her brother's bedroom. Upon reaching the doors, she rapped loudly against the cold wood.
"GO AWAY, ARIEL!" yelled Lucius through the door. His wishes were not granted however, for in the next instant, he heard the door click shut. He sighed in exasperation. "What do you want?" He spun around to face an unruffled Ariel.
"Just came to tell you that dinner starts in eight minutes," said Ariel briefly, then gave Lucius a piercing glare. He fidgeted slightly in his chair. "Sometimes, I do not feel as if I am appreciated in this house."
Lucius shrugged aimlessly. "Feel what you wish, Ariel." He felt a small ping of satisfaction as Ariel stormed off.
After getting ready in a hurry, he walked to the dining room to find everybody already seated. Giving the polite bow, he slipped into the head chair directly across of Narcissa at the long table. With a snap of his fingers, a young man dressed in black sauntered over with champaign and ice, while an equally young girl, perhaps merely fifteen, walked over with appetizers and soups.
Mr. Welsh was quite surprised. "You have human workers?" he asked, incredulous.
"Well, I wouldn't call them workers," said Lucius politely. "They're really slaves. I give them shelter, food, and clothing, and in turn, they work for me. No pay."
"Why not use house elves?" asked Narcissa curiously. "Aren't they much more efficient?"
Mrs. Welsh snapped her head up so suddenly that it cracked, which caused Lucius and Ariel to grimace. "Narcissa," she reprimanded sharply. "You do not question the host's actions."
Narcissa blushed slightly, which wasn't a bad effect in Lucius's mind. "That's all right," said Lucius to Mrs. Welsh. "I do not mind." Looking at Narcissa, he said, "Do tell me a little bit about yourself, Narcissa. I don't believe my father spoke much about you."
"Well," said Mr. Welsh, intruding. "Narcissa's nineteen years old, and she's quite bright. Top student in her class."
Ariel looked at her with renewed interest. "What do you do in your spare time?" asked Ariel politely. Only Lucius saw the malicious glint in her eyes that meant she was up to something, and he didn't like it. He gave her a look that clearly meant do-not-even-try-it-Cupid.
Narcissa, oblivious to this little exchange of nonverbal threats between sister and brother, said peacefully, "Well, I enjoy archery and horseback riding."
Raising her eyebrows, Ariel said amicably, "Really? Well, you could go horseback riding with my brother sometime. You could join him on his daily trips, for he usually has no company." She looked at Lucius with innocent lilac eyes.
Mr. Welsh slapped his knee and bellowed, "Well, that works out perfectly! Honey, why don't you go with Lucius tomorrow? You see, my wife and I have to visit the Dark Lord anyway."
Desperate to somehow scramble out of this unfortunate situation, Lucius said hastily, "Well, that wouldn't work out perfectly, actually, for you need a person with Malfoy blood to get out of the entrance, not to mention come back in."
Ariel said kindly, "But I could do that for you, Lucius." Giving him a smile, she continued, "Besides, you need the time off." She gave Mr. Welsh a dazzling smile. "I won't mind."
Mr. Welsh blushed the color of a cherry.
Two seconds later, every champagne glass on the table exploded suddenly with a deafening BANG, sending crystal shards in every direction, Mr. Welsh's direction in particular.
Lucius, with his lightning reflexes, immediately mumbled, "Reparo," and the shards went flying back to form champagne glasses once more before they touched anybody. He glared at Ariel, positive it was her, but all Ariel did was stare back blankly.
Mrs. Welsh sobbed convulsively while Mr. Welsh comforted her with would-have-been-bloody arms. "Perhaps we should retire for the night," said Mr. Welsh, unsure, looking at Lucius.
Nodding, Lucius sent them on their way accompanied by several servants.
"I think I'd better go, too," said Narcissa shakily as she rose out of her chair, trembling with big eyes. Without waiting for Lucius's nod, she stumbled out the door.
Ariel looked amused. "Well," said Ariel with a sneer. "That was quite a first dinner for the French royalty." And with that, she stood up and proceded to the door.
"Ariel," commanded Lucius, his hands balled into fists. When she turned around, he asked her quietly, "Was it you who did that?"
Tilting her pretty little head to one side, Ariel asked back, "Would you believe me if I said no?"
"No."
There was a slight pause before Ariel said, "No, I didn't do it." Then she left.
* * * * *
A few hours later, Ariel creeped into Lucius's room. He sighed and swiveled around in his chair. "Nobody is allowed in here, not even you, Ariel," he snarled, glaring at her. "Especially that little show you did during dinner."
Ariel raised her head in defiance and said, "I just came to ask you a question."
"Go on with it, then," said Lucius dismissively while he swiveled back to look at his papers.
"What's your opinion on murder?" asked Ariel quietly.
Lucius's pen froze above the paper. "I think that murder is fine when it is needed. If you have to kill, you kill. It's the natural order of things." He glared at her over his shoulder. "Does that answer your question?"
Ariel seemed to be satisfied with his answer, leaving quietly without a trace.
* * * * *
Narcissa breathed in the fresh, crisp autumn air as currant, chartreuse, and coffee colored leaves swirled pleasantly around her feet. Since Lucius wasn't up in the morning, she had decided to take a walk. Truth be told, narcissa didn't want to be around Lucius for long. There was something about him she couldn't quite place. His sister, however, seemed nice.
"Excuse me, ma'am," a feathery voice said kindly. "Are you lost?"
Narcissa jumped and spun around to find herself face-to-face with an amused young man, a little older than Lucius, with bronze skin and silver eyes. Quickly regaining her composure, she answered nonchantly, "My name is Narcissa Welsh, and I am not lost. I'm a guest at Malfoy Manor."
Before she even finished, the instant she mentioned her name, the man's beautiful eyes filled with fear . . . and loathing. "I'm sorry, madam. I thought you were a stranger," he said hastily, so obvious trying not to get into trouble.
"It's alright," said Narcissa calmly. "What, if I may ask, is your name?"
"Damien," said the man hesitantly, afraid that she might use it to report on him. Suddenly, he wasn't staring at Narcissa anymore, but past her. Before someone even tapped her on the shoulder, Narcissa knew who it was.
"Good morning, Mister Malfoy," said Narcissa pleasantly.
Lucius nodded, then said briskly, "Would you like to go horseback riding now? I have business to attent to later on." He didn't want to be around this girl anymore. She was a bore. Might as well get it over with as fast as you can.
"Of course," said Narcissa. She then turned to the man, who was giving Lucius and her looks of politeness, underlined with dislike. Despite his odd expression, she said softly, "It was nice meeting you, Damien." Raising her dress a little, she curtsied gracefully.
Lucius took a deep breath. He was rarely surprised, but behold, he was now. French royalty bowing down to his slaves? He thinks not. "Narcissa," said Lucius, scowling. "In England, we do not bow down to servants." He noticed with satisfaction as Damien's hands clenched into fists. He added snidely, "It's called lowering yourself."
Narcissa, however, looked unruffled. "In France, we bow to everybody," she said, giving Damien a smile. "It's called common courtesy." And with that, she walked towards the horse barn.
Lucius stared after her in awe and frustration. It was refreshing to have a person talk like that to him. People rarely did. It was either stuttering, seducing, or just plain ass-kissing. Never like Narcissa, who was so frank. Well, thought Lucius amusingly. Ariel does. Everyday . . . But then again she's your sister.
Walking just a tad bit faster than a moderate pace in order to catch up with Narcissa, Lucius pondered about this girl. She was two years younger than him, yet had more stamina and courage to stand up to him than people twice his age. Of course, she could just be stupid. Lucius smirked at the thought. But let's just hope it's not that. From the back, she looked refined, graceful. Of course, the image was instantly ruined when Narcissa tripped and stumbled to her knees.
* * * * *
Narcissa stole a glance at Lucius, wondering what went on in that emotionless, plaster face of his. The breeze was pulling at his hair, and he looked rather innocent. Just for a moment. She shook her head slightly. Why did you stand up to him, Narcissa? If Mother saw that, she would undoubtedly grow that wiry scowl on her face and reprimand you on how to be a lady.
Her father, however, would have been a completely different reaction. Narcissa frowned slightly as she thought about her father. He was always giving off that hopeless, chunky, I'm-the-Dark-Arts-French-royalty-and-I'm-so-jolly impression. He had once told her when she asked that it was to surprise anybody that meant harm to him. Narcissa knew the real Alexander Welsh. The one who would give punishment without a care, the master dueler with the perfect poker face. If he had been here, he would probably laugh, joke around, then later, behind closed doors, he would yell and screech about keeping her image as spotless as possible, then she'll get a beating.
Nobody knew about Narcissa's dueling powers. Not even her mother. Her father had, from her birth, taught her how to duel properly, taught her all the tricks and moves. She was a master of the bow and arrow, the knife, dagger, spear, any gun, and, of course, her wand. She was fluent in six languages, had faster reflexes than her father, and could break a man's neck in a second.
However, there was one thing that nobody ever knew, not even her father, not any house-elf. Narcissa herself wasn't even sure of it. Her emotions seemed to always change her surroundings. When she was happy, the sun itself followed her. When she was sad, darkness reigned. And when she was mad, things tended to blow up or explode. She hadn't meant to disturb dinner last night, but her father drooling over Ariel with oily lust was just too much.
And she had to keep all this under the surface and appear to be a fragile china doll who knows nothing of the cruel world, who laughs daintily at anything, who was stupid and boring. Oh dear, thought Narcissa. Now I'm getting depressed.
* * * * *
On the manor's roof, stood a lone girl who seemed serene and nerveless as she watched the two people below on horses. Her rose lips curled into a smirk that didn't seem possible to belong to a girl who's clothes and face showed innocence and chastity. Her aura, however, screamed evil.
So, the girl thought to herself. He is finally interested in a girl. Smiling a dashing smile, the girl walked away. What else should I do but help him along his way to love? Throwing her head back to laugh, in her pretty little head, she had already been forming a plan.
