A/N: I've had this idea for awhile, and post-war Malfoy fics are some of my favorites to write, so I hope you enjoy!
Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or any of its wonderful characters!
In the cold, dark manor, Lucius Malfoy fell to his hands and knees before his master, Lord Voldemort.
"My Lord, please... Please, have mercy, I swear, I-!"
"Silence," said the pale, snake-like man standing before him. "I do wish you'd stop making excuses, Lucius... Did you not swear to me last time that your prior mistakes would be your last...?"
"M-my Lord, I never meant to... That is, y-you can't—"
"I can't what, Lucius? Expect you to keep your promises to me? Trust you to be a faithful servant any longer?"
"No, of course that's not what I meant! You don't understand wh-"
"I don't understand...? I'm afraid I find that hard to believe, Lucius... Crucio!" Voldemort shouted; his high, cold laughter evident in his voice.
Narcissa, standing back from the two men, could do nothing as her husband was tortured. Resisting crying out, doing something, anything, to stop the Dark Lord took everything she had. When she saw that unforgiving look in his red eyes, and knew he had no intention of ceasing his assault, she couldn't hold back any longer.
"Stop it! Stop, please... that's enough... please..."
Slowly, Voldemort turned to her, amazed that she'd dare speak out against him, especially when it was plain to see her husband's life was in his hands. "So," he began with a cruel smile, "the woman wants me to stop. What do you think, Lucius, have you gotten what you deserve?"
Lucius, lying on the floor, still shaking, made no response.
"Or perhaps... You're suggesting that you accept punishment in his place, Narcissa...?"
Narcissa looked back at him unflinchingly. Anything, she thought, anything would be better than seeing her loved ones hurt like this.
"Very well then," Voldemort continued, "yes, that would damage him quite a bit more, wouldn't it...?"
Lucius stared at the scene before him, unable to make a sound. He wouldn't, Lucius reasoned, he couldn't; not to her.
"Crucio!" the Dark Lord exclaimed again, and Narcissa's screams echoed throughout the manor...
Lucius awoke to his own screams, and his wife shaking him awake, calling out to him over and over again. His hand was clenched tight around his left forearm, his breathing heavy.
"Lucius! Lucius, darling, it's okay, you were dreaming!"
He looked up at Narcissa, his eyes still wide with fright. It had only been a dream.
"Cissa... You're all right, thank god..." A wave of relief flooded over him. Narcissa was perfectly safe. Voldemort was dead, and there was no way he could so much as get near her.
"Of course I am. But Lucius, are you...?" Her gaze briefly turned downwards toward his covered left arm, and Lucius followed suit. With some trepidation, he slowly relaxed his grip. Narcissa noticed his reluctance and gently touched her own hand to his, gazing into his eyes expectantly.
Only at this did he take her hand and allowed himself to catch a glimpse of his forearm, which he was absolutely certain would bear the Dark Lord's mark, darker and more prominent than ever, and...
Nothing. His pale white skin was marred not by skull, nor by serpent. "It isn't there..." he muttered in disbelief.
"I told you, didn't I? That you were dreaming...?" she asked softly. As if to prove it, she brought a hand up to his face, stroking his cheek to assure him that the two of them were safe.
It was only then that Lucius noticed in her deep brown eyes, the very same that were so often brighter than the stars in the night sky, the pure fright and concern that still lingered in her. "...Cissa," he said quietly, "You are okay too, aren't you...?"
"I will be, but you gave me quite the scare, Lu. How would you expect me to feel when I'm startled awake by my husband's shouts and he doesn't even respond to me when I call his name...?"
"...That's true. I'm sorry for frightening you," he said apologetically, "and for waking you at this hour," he added, glancing towards the clock on the wall that read 3:37 in the morning.
Narcissa shook her head. "It's not your fault. I suppose I just can't help but worry about you." She offered a small smile, and drew closer to him. "Lucius, I won't ask you to relive that dream and tell me what happened, but are you... Are you really going to be all right...?" she asked kindly.
Lucius paused and exhaled deeply, as if to dispel any remaining uncertainties he held due to the nightmare. "Yes," he told her confidently. "You know it would hardly do for a Malfoy to get upset over something so trivial."
"Yes, you're right... Perhaps I'm overreacting, but... If there's anything I can do or anything I can get you, please don't hesitate to tell me."
Narcissa knew that no Malfoy left this past war unscathed; not herself, Lucius, or Draco. She had seen just how heavy a toll it had taken on them and it lead her to worry about her husband and son more than ever, especially in moments such as these when it was plain to see that the tragedies they'd witnessed as followers of the Dark Lord were finding ways to present themselves once more.
"Actually, Cissa..." he began, "I believe there is something you can do for me."
"Oh? Anything, Lucius, really."
"You won't like it," he warned.
"I'll be the judge of that."
"In that case, what I want you to do... Well, should something ever happen again, be it tomorrow or thirty years from now... Please promise me you'll think of your own safety before mine. Please, for once, let me be the one to protect and take care of you."
A silence that, to Lucius, at least, seemed to last for ages, passed between them.
"You're right," Narcissa said at length, "I don't like that."
"Cissa, I know better than anyone that you're the furthest possible thing from weak, but please j—"
"However," she interrupted, "If it helps you, I... I suppose I might be willing to try."
Lucius couldn't help but be surprised. In all of his many years with her, he had never once known her to yield to him so easily, if at all.
"If that's all it takes to please you, I'm more than happy to rely on you just a bit more from now on, be it in times of peace or of war."
Lucius had difficulty finding the words to say to her. After everything he had been through in the past several years, and crowned by his all-too-realistic nightmare in which her act of putting him before herself nearly got her killed, he was certain she didn't at all understand how much her words meant to him. "Thank you," was all he found himself able to manage.
Suddenly, Lucius frowned. He pulled her closer still, and firmly pressed his lips to hers, holding her there as long as he dared.
"...And just what was that for, Lu...?" she whispered.
"That," he replied, "was to make sure I wasn't dreaming."
At this, Narcissa's mood couldn't help but lighten and she laughed, embracing him. Lucius smiled in return, and the two of them lay back together.
"Do you think you'll be able to fall back asleep now...?" she asked after another moment's silence.
"Just as long as you stay right here with me, love," he said as he wrapped an arm around her.
"Goodnight, Lucius," Narcissa laughed and shared with him one final, swift kiss before closing her eyes.