Hi Lovelies!

Another fic! Yay! This one was also written for Tippy-LaRoux, just like my last one (We Sing of Constellations... If you haven't read it. You should read it, and review! *wink wink*). Except this one was written for her birthday!

It was inspired by the song Wicked Game (a great song. Please listen).

Also. Random. I'm writing this A/N while watching Merlin with my roommate? I love this show!

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I use a LOT of prompts in this, almost all of which are from Hogwart's Writing Club (Where I am a Slytherin). They are listed properly at the bottom.

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Warnings: Implied rape, torture, character death, murder. There's also depression and abuse. It's like... It's dark. Maybe one of the darkest things I've written? I don't know.

Word Count (excluding A/N): 2062

I Played Your Game and I Won

Age 21

Narcissa shielded her eyes against the bright light as the heavy dungeon door creaked open. It hadn't done that in a while. It might have been weeks, but it also might have only been hours—time is a tricky thing to tell in complete darkness, and Narcissa was unable to use her magic to help her keep track of it. Even if she had enough strength to do so, Lucius wasn't stupid enough to allow her to keep her magic unrestricted.

"Are you ready to be a good, obedient wife?" he asked, his stance strong, but Narcissa could swear that she heard hesitation in his voice. She chose not to answer his question.

"You loved me, once," she whispered, her voice coming out raspy. She hadn't spoken since the last time he had been down to see her, asking the same question as he just had. She had screamed at him then; this time she was trying a different tactic.

"I never loved you," he said, his voice immediately hardening. "What you remember was nothing more than a game to me."

Narcissa bit her lip, watching the brightness of the light behind his body give his silhouette an almost ethereal halo. "What a wicked game," she replied, pressure building behind her eyes. She had made a pact to herself to no longer cry in front of him, but the hurt she was currently feeling was almost too much.

"Get over it," he said simply, taking a step into the dungeon and closing the door behind him. It was pitch-black once again.

She swallowed the tears back, though, lifting her chin in hopes of appearing strong—a worthy opponent. Well, as worthy as an opponent can be while lying shackled to a cold dungeon floor. "Don't deny it, Lucius. It may no longer be inviting, our love or our home, but it was not so long ago."

A warm hand pressed into her skin, cupping her cheek, and she instinctively leaned in, letting his touch draw her into the security she had once known with him. She knew it was wrong, after the hurt he had put her through, but she couldn't help it. "I've missed your touch," she breathed, desperate for what once was.

"You want me to hold you, is that what you're saying?" he asked. He barely waited for her to nod before magicking her chains away and pulling her into his arms. She inhaled greedily, not knowing how long it had been since she had last taken in the smell of his cologne.

"Draco. Is he alright?" she asked after a moment of silence, her body shaking slightly from the overwhelming amount of stimulation it was receiving when she hadn't been so much as poked in what felt like ages. Lucius stiffened considerably.

"He's alive, if that's what you mean," he said coarsely. Narcissa held back a sigh. "But, my love," he continued, "I didn't choose this life. The Dark Lord… he chose it for us."

"I know." It was true. Narcissa did know that; she also knew that her husband was too cowardly to refuse and choose something better for his family. She had given up the hope that he ever would. Lucius would remain at the Dark Lord's right hand, and Draco would grow up with no option but to be forced to do the evil man's bidding.

"Lucius… as long as he remains with you, he is in danger," she whispered, clutching Lucius's shirt. She was afraid, so afraid, that Draco wouldn't survive what the Dark Lord had planned.

"I really wish you would just join us," Lucius said softly, changing the topic after a moment of silence. "Stand by my side. Be Draco's mother. Damn your own selfish morals."

Narcissa almost bit back, letting herself fall into the familiar pattern of refusing to bend to the Dark Lord's will, but she wanted this moment, this safety, so she remained silent.

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Age 23

Gone were the days that her husband would hold her in the darkness, letting his warmth sooth her aching soul. He had been conditioned by the Dark Lord to truly hate her, to think her nothing more than a blood traitor, and it showed.

"Wake the fuck up. I have news," Lucius Malfoy said, slapping Narcissa awake. After being treated in this manner for well over two years, Narcissa no longer let out a surprised or terrified yelp at the instant consciousness and the pain in her cheek—it was just a thing she had gotten used to under Lucius's control.

"Unfortunately, the boy… couldn't withstand his punishment," Lucius said coldly. Even though the light was at his back, casting his face in shadows, Narcissa could see a glint in his eyes that could send shivers down any sane man's spine.

It took a moment of heavy silence, Narcissa trying to fight through her foggy reality to try and understand what his words meant, before Lucius clarified. "Draco is dead, bitch," he snarled. Narcissa wasn't sure which brought her to reality: his words, or the spit that landed on her cheek as he snapped the words.

It felt like she was falling, the ground pulling away from her. She was desperate to cry, or hit her husband, or scream, but she couldn't muster a breath to do anything. There was just nothing left.

She hadn't seen her son in over two years, and now she would never get the chance—he had been five. Anguish stabbed her in the stomach, forcing her to double over, her body trembling.

"I'll be back when you've had enough time to process the information," he said, his voice low. "I need a new heir."

His lips were close to her ear, invading the space around her and the bubble of despair she had created for herself. His breath was warm, and she had an urge to lean into it, to let it wash over her and take away the pain she felt. But, before she could, or before she could pull herself together to make the decision not to, Lucius was gone, leaving her cold and alone in the dark to mourn the death of her son.

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Age 25

It had taken a while, Narcissa's body unable to nurture itself, let alone another human being, but after countless nights, or days as she still couldn't tell the time, of being threatened with things worse than death if she didn't produce an heir, she was forced to watch Lucius's expression twist into horrifying glee after performing the test on her.

"Congratulations, whore," he said, his voice biting. "You are going to finally be a mother again."

"You are a bit twisted," she sneered softly as it continued to hit her: she was going to be bringing another child into this deranged man's home. Then despair crept into her heart; she knew what was coming next. She ducked her head, her shoulders caving in.

"You going to make the right choice this time and actually raise your fucking child?" he asked, grabbing a fistful of her hair and forcing her to look up at him.

This time, for the sake of the baby, she nodded.

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Age 26

Narcissa reached for her child, an action that would have been difficult to perform a year ago. It was amazing what a decent bed and proper meals could do for a person.

The first time she had looked in the mirror after coming out of the dungeon, she had been horrified. "Good thing it was dark down there," Lucius had said, standing behind her, a look of disgust on his face. "It would have been hard to fuck you seeing this mess."

She had been beyond thin, not much more than a skeleton wearing a thin layer of skin and grime, and she had dark bags of purple under her eyes as prominent as the nearly permanent purple bruises across her body. Hair that had once been as dark and soft as a raven's feather was clumped in dreadlocks with patches of grey. Skin that had once been perfectly pale was almost ashen—a sickly grey with nearly every single blue-green vein in her body visible. She no longer held the beauty envied in the Blacks, but was a horrifying wraith-like creature.

"Just don't go gaining too much weight. I want my wife to be thin," Lucius had said, his grey eyes threatening. She had just nodded, not knowing what else she could say.

Now, as she reached for her child almost a year later, her skin held an almost healthy tint, her body held just a little bit of the necessary fat for sustaining life, and the dark circles under her eyes had vanished. The purple bruises still bloomed about her body. Although, those were easily covered up with concealment charms—one of the only bits of magic Lucius allowed her to do.

"Hush, my sweet child," Narcissa crooned, bringing the baby girl to her chest. At first, Lucius hadn't been happy with the gender of the child, but the Dark Lord had been pleased enough. Narcissa was terrified that the young girl would end up undergoing something akin to what she, herself, had.

Something inside of her had snapped when she first laid eyes on her baby girl, her perfect little Lyra, and she began hatching her plan.

It was almost time to make her great escape; surrounded by Death Eaters, it wouldn't be easy. She was about to do something that there was no going back from, but it was necessary to keep her and her daughter safe. She would do anything to keep her daughter safe. She wished she could've done the same for Draco.

"You're prettier than I am," Narcissa said softly, holding her daughter close. "Please, don't fall under a man like your father when you grow up. Loving him was the biggest mistake I ever made."

Lyra said nothing, just gave a the soft whine of a baby being comforted by her mother, and Narcissa repressed a smile.

"I'll be back for you in just a moment, my love," she whispered. "I must ensure your father will never be able to follow us. I do hope you'll forgive me for what I'm about to do."

Once again, Lyra said nothing. By this time, she was asleep, lulled completely by her mother's soothing tone. She didn't wake up when Narcissa laid her back down in her cradle.

Narcissa swallowed hard when she took one last look at her child before picking up the two items she needed to carry her plan through: the potion bottle which held an altered version of Lucius's nightly relaxation potion, and a dagger, for if the potion failed.

The potion had been easy enough to mess with. The house-elves had taken pity on her, for she had never been cruel to them, so they helped her to find anything she needed—even if that happened to be dragon blood, Lucius's most coveted ingredient. Dobby, her favorite house-elf, had been particularly helpful in locating Lucius's spare supply. Indy, another house-elf she was close with, snuck her the potion. When combining what the two had brought her, she was able to create a bastardization of the relaxation potion. It would still do its job in relaxing Lucius; it would do its job too well.

He would fall asleep, content and comfortable, and he wouldn't wake up.

Narcissa had wanted to do something more painful, but she had limited resources and didn't want to be caught. Besides, this wasn't a revenge mission; it was an escape. She tried not to think how, after this, she and her daughter would have nothing.

With one last glance around the room, Narcissa set off to kill her husband and liberate herself and her daughter from his awful reign.

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Age 17

"I never wanted to fall in love," Narcissa giggled, holding Lucius close. They had just graduated from Hogwarts and were soaking up their last few minutes alone before the wedding planning became too out of hand—the engagement between the Black and the Malfoy had created quite a fuss, and it seemed that everyone was getting involved.

Narcissa didn't mind. The only thing that mattered to her was that she married the love of her life.

"I promise," Lucius said, his eyes bright and his smile sincere. "You won't regret that you did."

A/N 2.0:

A bit dark, yeah. It got a little out of hand... I just had to let the fic flow, ya know?

Writing Club:

Ami's Audio #8: Write about escaping a monster (human or otherwise)

Lyric Alley #22: It's not inviting now, don't deny what you meant.

Book Club #6 Wade:

(dialogue) "You want me to hold you, is that what you're saying?"

(word) Harassment

(plot point) Threatening someone

Disney Challenge #4: (dialogue) "As long as he remains with you, he is in danger

Showtime: #12 (setting) Dungeon

Emy's Emporium #2: (theme) Broken promises

Film Festival #19: (dialogue) "You're prettier than I am."

Dark Lady's Diabolical Lair #14: (dialogue) "You are a bit twisted."

Liza's Loves #4: Riches to Rags (item) Potion bottle

Bex's Basement #9: Write someone breaking the law for a moral reason.

Lo's Lowdown: #10 (plot point) Losing a child