Written for Lady Eleanor Boleyn's Birthdays challenge on The Dark Lord's Most Faithful forum. It took me a long time to finally write it. I'm not sure if I'm happy or annoyed with the result. Some parts I like and some parts I don't. Well here it is.
Yes, Bellatrix is drunk. I imagine she was at a New Year's Party.
Many thought Lord Voldemort was a monster: Inhuman, evil with no traits which would define him as human.
They were right on some counts.
With only one sixth of a soul residing in his body and his flesh seemingly disintegrating in rivers of what looked like wax around his blood shorts eye, there was something inhuman. In the way he cursed and killed without a trace of remorse in his eyes or heart, there was something inhuman. How he held himself above everyone else without displaying any passion or care, there was something inhuman.
That was the aim.
Lord Voldemort always knew he was greater than any other mere mortal so he subscribed to never appear as such. He knew the impacts of his every action. He knew the results of a smirk, a sneer, a glare, a hollow laugh. Every action had a purpose.
At least when others could see him.
When he was alone, he allowed himself some level of freedom, but only to a point. Even alone, he had such a large sense of personal pride that he would never degrade himself, even if there was no one around to see such displays.
It was a fine line. Very fine. Normally, anything that was not productive, he neglected and refused to consider.
Often, but not always.
Eyes closed against the faint flickering of the firelight, he brought a glass to his lips. The faint burn travelled down his throat, as he placed the now empty glass down on the table beside him. The soft clinking of ice against glass was the only sound other than the crackling of the log in the hearth. Even Nagini had left his side, rendering him alone.
He preferred it.
Creaking his eyes open, he flicked his long fingered hand at the bottle of scotch resting on the table. As if by itself, it rose and poured a generous serve into the glass before the bottle moved back onto the table and the glass drifted back into his hand.
He sank into the leather armchair slouching in a way he would not normally, eyes closed as he drank from the glass again. His muscles relaxed even further.
It lasted only one more sip before any elements of relaxation vanished.
Despite the several glasses of scotch he had drunk, he heard the click of heels on floorboards and, before the door had even opened, his wand was in his hand and he was on his feet, any trace of calmness vanished from stony features.
Bellatrix faced him from the doorway. He had not invited her nor had he expected her. If he would have known, he never would have indulged himself. He was not drunk by any means, tipsy perhaps, but he still possessed all his self control and logic. It did not mean he wanted anyone interrupting him.
She did not react to his aggressive stance or the wand in his hand. She stared at him through slightly unfocused eyes. However, the expression in those dark irises was not fear. No, only obsessive and lust shined through. It did not please or surprise him in the slightest. Anger unrestrained by the slightly weakened inhibitions that surged through his veins.
He was close to cursing her and had even raised his wand, before she collapsed without his command. In the tight dress she wore, she scrambled on her hands and knees to his side. It was only the display or obedience and worship that he had enough control of his anger to wait until she reached his side.
"Bellatrix," he hissed angrily, his eyes flaring red as he looked down at the woman who was kneeling before him. He would have continued, but she uncharacteristically cut him off.
"Master," she practically slurred, her lips savouring each syllable as her hands found the bottom of his robes. He did not pull them away from her hands. "Master I had to see you. Master I am sorry I had to. Please, Master, please."
"You should not be here," he snapped coldly, with his usual firm tone. There was nothing to indicate he was not acting normal "Leave."
"No!" she practically cried, collapsing more to the floor as she placed kiss after kiss on the trail of his robes. "Please, Master, please! I only want to please you! It pleases me to please you."
Still he did not pull away from her hands. His eyes only remained with a furious glare. "I do not care if you are pleased."
"But I care that you are pleased. Please let me please you!" Her eyes were imploring as she tried to straighten up onto her knees and lowered her voice to a more seductive purr. "You like it when I please you don't you, Master?"
At that moment any kind of self control vanished. He should have cursed or kicked her. She was taking too many privileges, but he could not deny the view down her dress was appealing to even him and he knew from experience her body was even more pleasing to the eye once all her clothes were stripped from her. Perhaps it was that or the way she knelt or possibly it was alcohol. Either way he gave up acting and let go.
Without even replying, he seized the trailing looks of her messy hair and slammed his lips into hers in a demanding kiss. The bed was not far away and he pushed her back until he pinned her against the mattress and ripped the dress from her.
As he devoured her on his bed, he allowed himself to enjoy the body of his most loyal with less self control and more vocally than he usually would have.
When they eventually finished, both breathing heavily he made no move to extract himself from their tangled limbs. For tonight he was prepared to allow himself some pause, some allowance of some privilege for her and for a moment he did not care.
He thought Bella might even be too intoxicated too notice, at least until she rose a little in his arms. Smiling slightly, she gazed to the clock on his bed side table, noting it was past midnight and then back at him.
"Happy New Year, my Lord," she murmured softly and without a word kissed him passionately on the lips. He did not pull away this time. He only deepened the kiss before he flipped her onto her back once again.
It may not be his birthday now, but he could still allow himself to relax and enjoy himself a little longer.