Quidditch League Fanfiction Competition Prompt: CAPTAINS: Write about a light character committing the sin of LUST or a dark character demonstrating the virtue of CHASTITY. I have written about the latter.
Months of the Year Challenge Prompt: Month of June: Write about a strong female character, whether good or evil.
Prompts are at the bottom.
Disclaimer: This story contains themes that may be triggering. Read at your own discretion.
Vivre Libre: Persephone's Wings
"Birds born in a cage think flying is an illness."
—Alejandro Jodorowski
A gentle breeze caressed her pale cheeks, its icy touch leaving thin veins of crimson beneath her skin. She stepped forward, her toes curling in the cool sand as she watched the shimmering grains cut her feet and draw blood, much like the jagged pieces of glass did when she drew them across her wrists.
She reached down and pressed between her toes, the warmth of her own blood sending shivers down her spine. Folding her fingers into a fist, save for two, she trailed them up her bare leg—first in a straight line and then in little curls—until her fingers disappeared under the hem of her skirt. She peered down at her masterpiece, a small smile gracing her chapped lips.
This had become a favourite pastime of hers, painting the stretched canvas of her skin with the deep crimson of her own making. It pleased her to no end, knowing that her creations belonged to her alone, and nobody else.
'But you are mistaken, my child.' The whisper ghosted across the back of her neck, making the hair there stand on end. 'For you are mine, and everything that is yours belongs to me.'
The darkness crept along the frozen ground and up her sides, coiling its phantasmal arms around her throat as it laughed, a dry, paper-like sound, into her ear. It led her closer to the edge of the cliff she was standing on and stroked her hair. She eyed the pulsing mass that lay at the bottom of the chasm, her heart fluttering.
She knew those creatures—recognised the emptiness in their hollow, red eyes. They knew her as well, staring up at her intently, for they were a part of her: her demons.
The ethereal voice purred into her hair as it tightened its grip around her throat. She knew what it wanted from her, and, as always, she knew she had no say in the matter.
'Do it, my love,' it whispered, its voice laced with the faux endearment and hint of condescension she was used to hearing. 'Kill them all.'
-oOo-
"Marriage?!" Bellatrix screeched as she leapt out of her chair and slammed her palms down on the dinner table.
There was silence as her family stared at her. Her parents, their faces never betraying anything they felt, offered her a passing glance before returning to their caviar and wine. Their meal was, after all, of foremost importance. More so than their offhanded mention of their eldest daughter's betrothal to some fellow she had never even heard of in her fifteen years of life.
And, of course, her dear sisters were eyeing her with a mixture of alarm, disdain and trepidation—the third of which was because of the ugly, throbbing vein on their father's forehead. There wasn't a surer sign of a disaster to come than that, and Bellatrix eased back into her seat, quiet as a mouse, not daring to challenge The Vein.
Supper went by slower than ever, even the usual, uncomfortable silence doing nothing to placate Bellatrix's nerves. Really, she scolded herself. An outburst at the dinner table? What were you thinking?
In her defence, it was a rather normal reaction at being told that she was to be engaged to some bloke twice her age—an exaggeration, but the point remained—where her opinion mattered even less than their useless house elf that kept tripping over its own feet.
Bellatrix lingered until her father had left the room with her sisters and his fourth glass of wine—much to her mother's displeasure—and she had a chance to put forth her case. Before she could so much as turn in her seat, however, her mother, not looking up from folding her napkin, said, "Not a word, Bella."
"But—"
"Your father and I reached this decision after having discussed it at length, and we both agree that it is the right thing to do."
"The right thing for whom?" Bellatrix demanded, an angry flush creeping up her neck. "This is nothing more than a political move so Father gets back in Grandfather's good graces!"
Her mother's lip twitched, and Bellatrix knew she had hit the nail on the head. Not wanting to let go of the rare opportunity, she braved on. "Everyone knows that Grandfather isn't all too pleased after what happened with—"
"Enough!"
Her mother rose from her seat, and, even in her anger, laid down the napkin neatly, for nothing took precedence over proper table etiquette. "Go to your room."
Bellatrix began to argue, but one look from her mother was enough to silence her. Glaring at the older witch, she deliberately scraped back her chair, threw down her napkin, and stormed out. The satisfaction of spiting her mother lasted only until she reached her room, though, and standing outside the door, she hesitated.
Would rebelling against her parents serve any purpose? None of her previous attempts had ever succeeded, so she didn't see how or why it would start to, now.
As though having read her mind, the door slowly opened and Narcissa poked her head out to whisper, "Are you coming in or not?"
Behind her, Andromeda looked up from Bellatrix's bed and grinned. "Well, hurry up, then. This plan isn't going to work if the main actor's missing."
"What're you both up to?" Bellatrix asked as she joined the only two people in the world she knew would always be on her side. As Andromeda began to complain about how she was much too young to be an aunt, with Narcissa's exaggerated gestures of horror and disgust for emphasis, Bellatrix wondered if it wasn't too late to break free of her shackles.
She had longed to be free ever since she could remember, yearned to do as she pleased without incurring her parents' wrath, but she had always abstained from crossing the final line. Now, she wondered if she had been standing on the other side of the line the whole time and had simply been tricked into believing that she wasn't.
-oOo-
Colourful petals, strewn all about
The yellow peonies, the purple iris
The red of the roses, so brilliant, so bright
Pluck a petal, and it fades to white
Touch a thorn, and it bleeds crimson
Touch a thorn, and it bleeds crimson
Now hold it tight, now hold it tight
Watch as the crimson turns black
Watch as the crimson turns black
Watch, there's no turning back
-oOo-
"—someone Bella would fancy, am I not right?"
Bellatrix looked up at her friend blankly, not having registered anything beside her name. "What?"
Sylvia pursed her painted lips and flipped her golden curls over her shoulder. "This is starting to be an annoyance, you know, you constantly being in a daze and not paying attention to anything besides your own morbid thoughts." She nodded over her shoulder at a group of seventh years clustered around the far windows of the common room. Bellatrix's eyes were immediately drawn to the one in the middle.
The green light from the lake that filtered in cast shadows over his handsome features and made his wine-coloured eyes shimmer. She watched his animated narration of what she presumed was his latest escapade, and as though sensing her eyes on him, he glanced up at her. The moment Bellatrix met his intense gaze, she looked away, pretending to be listening keenly to what Sylvia was saying.
"—someone like him, who pays absolutely no heed to the rules. Really, what sort of upbringing has he had?"
"Don't you know?" Madeline asked disinterestedly from over the magazine she was flipping through.
Sylvia huffed. "Do you?"
"Well, Jeanine and her boyfriend said they think the rumours of him being a Muggleborn is true."
Bellatrix found herself eyeing the older boy again, Madeline's words causing an inkling of an idea to form within her. Her mind wandered back to the latest letter from her mother, which detailed the date of her meeting with "Reginald" and that her father would be thoroughly displeased if she were to absent herself from it.
"You're right," she said, her lips upturning in a superior smirk.
"Pardon?"
"He really is my type." Bellatrix eyed the boy, his sand-coloured head thrown back in laughter, her heart beginning to race.
"No one can possibly reign in his madness besides you," Sylvia agreed.
The idea now blooming forth into her next plan of action, her smirk widened as her eyes met his again. Yes, she would make him hers. It was the perfect way of throwing a damper on her parents' schemes. After all, abstinence was never really her virtue to begin with.
-oOo-
She rolled the moonstone between her fingers, belatedly registering the drops of red that blemished its surface. The longer she rolled it, the faster its light dimmed out. Soon, the glistening sliver of light was veiled in darkness, and as she eyed the tarnished stone, she couldn't help but wonder:
Were the stains ever going to wash away?
-oOo-
'Freedom is what you do with what's been done to you.'
It was something she had read a long time ago and had forgotten about until just now. Now, it made sense to her, as she eyed the Encyclopaedia on Greek Gods and Goddesses. She had found it lying around the common room, and had flipped through it in her boredom.
Reading the legend of Persephone, she couldn't help but feel mixed emotions towards the Queen of the Underworld. She, who was tricked and manipulated into doing everyone's bidding from beginning to end, was someone Bellatrix did not think was worthy of such a title.
"A golden cage is still just a cage," she muttered to herself.
Brushing her fingers against the portrait of a feminine woman seated on a swing made from briars with red roses in her hair, Bellatrix felt drawn to her. She sympathised with Persephone's life, even if she did not condone it.
She was snapped out of her daze by someone calling her name, and she looked up to see her blond-haired, maroon-eyed King of Hell. No, her mind said. He deserves no such title for his foolhardiness and his lofty ignorance.
Turning to cast a final glance at Persephone's portrait, she shut the book and set it aside. As she rose to her feet, she thought to herself, No, abstinence is not a virtue. It is an excuse to continue in one's cowardly ways.
"Ready to wreak havoc?" the older boy asked as she neared him.
Walking past him without looking up, she quoted a line that followed after the one she remembered from a long time ago to herself: "'Why do you stay in prison when the door is wide open?'"
-oOo-
The corridor was long—longer than she remembered it to be—and the harder she ran, the farther she got from the end.
Yet, the eerie laughter followed after her without respite, always just a few steps behind her; far enough that she could hear it echo around her, but close enough that she could feel it on the back of her neck.
The shadow loomed over her, engulfing her in its massive darkness, and she tripped, falling to the ground. Curling in on herself, she wrapped her arms around her knees in a poor attempt to protect what was hers to give and no one's to take away.
The moonstone pulsed in her embrace, its light intact even when enshrouded by the darkness. It may be damaged, but it was still hers, and she would protect it with her life.
After all, abstinence seemed to be her only virtue.
The moonstone cracked.
-oOo-
"When are you going to stop this nonsense?"
Bellatrix glanced at her sister sideways and shrugged. "When Father and Mother come to their senses and realise that their daughters are not pawns to be used for their own, selfish motives."
"None of this would have happened if you had just agreed to marry him!"
"Ann," Bellatrix said with a sigh. "I'm sure you understand why I did what I did, seeing as you're next in line to be married off."
The anger in Andromeda's eyes turned to fear, and she flopped down on the bed beside Bellatrix. "I don't want to," she whispered, her voice trembling.
Bellatrix swallowed past the lump in her throat and inhaled deeply. "Neither do I." There was a knock on the door and Madeline poked her head in. Bellatrix nodded and turned to offer her sister a small smile. "But I have to."
When she entered the empty common room, her eyes skimmed across the dimly lit space and came to land on someone standing at the doorway. Wine-red eyes that held a certain darkness in them shone from the shadows as she walked towards him, his thin lips spreading into a grin that she could only describe as ravenous.
He tapped the wall with his knuckles as he held his other hand out to her. Bellatrix stared down at his palm, feeling the bile rise to the back of her throat. She wondered if it would have been any easier if she had the Gryffindors' foolish courage just then, but while she deliberated, the door grated open. He grabbed her hand and dragged her out without a word, his intentions clear in the overbearing silence of the night.
As her feet moved mechanically down the corridor, she couldn't help but wonder: had it always been that long?
Bellatrix touched the elastic of her sheer stockings where she had stored her wand, hoping that she wouldn't have to use it.
-oOo-
She jerked back when her demons lunged at her. They knew that their end was near, yet they refused to go down quietly. She understood their need to put up a fight; she, too, had struggled at every opportunity. Although she knew that they had to be undone if she had to get what she wanted, she hesitated.
The darkness tightened its grip around her throat. 'Everything you have ever wanted is on the other side of fear. Conquer it, or it will conquer you.' It coiled around her torso and limbs. 'Do not fear, for I am here.'
Reaching up to touch her neck, she inhaled deeply and strengthened her resolve. She would rid herself of her demons, and she would do it alone.
"Nobody gets to rescue me but me."
The grip around her disappeared, and a bloodcurdling scream echoed in her ears.
She smiled.
-oOo-
Bellatrix rose to her feet and straightened her clothes. Slipping her wand back in its place, she looked down at the fellow lying at her feet. She hummed and nudged him with her shoe, smiling when he groaned.
Feeling something trickle down her leg, she eyed the thin trail of blood for a moment before reaching down and running two fingers along it—first in a straight line and then in little curls—until her fingers disappeared under the hem of her skirt.
There was another groan from the older boy, and she lifted her leg, bringing her foot down on his head, hard. A crack sounded, and she wondered if she had split open his skull.
"Not like there's anything inside anyway," she murmured to herself with a cheerful little giggle.
Twirling a stray curl around her finger, she strode out and peered down the long corridor. A sudden breeze blew past her, causing all the lamps to die out, and in the momentary darkness before they re-lit themselves, she felt a sense of immense belonging.
Bellatrix skipped down the corridor, revelling in the darkness. Now that she no longer had anything to lose, she was free.
-oOo-
She eyed the cracked moonstone, saddened by how much damage it had taken. It had lost its lustre, the one thing that made it what it was, and now it was just a hollow, empty shell.
Running her finger along the crack, she watched as the jagged edge cut her skin, causing a tiny droplet of crimson to slip into the crack. With a smile, she pressed her finger against the crevice until her blood dripped along the edge. It hardened and sealed the fissure, and she held the stone up, closing one eye as she peered into it.
The world through the bloodstone was painted in her favourite colour.
The wound had healed, and the result was far more beautiful than the original.
-oOo-
Bellatrix walked through the corpse-strewn village, humming a little tune as she twirled her wand in her fingers. She reached a pile of debris and bodies and climbed up it, grinning wide when she reached the person standing atop it.
Crimson eyes turned to eye her and a long, bony finger pointed down. "Look, Bella. The vermin still live."
"It seems they do," she replied as she came to stand beside her master, her King of Hell.
He turned, disgusted by the struggling Muggles, and walked away. "Kill them all."
"Gladly!" She laughed as she took his place and pointed her wand at the writhing creatures. "Avada Kedavra!"
Watching the light leave their eyes, she cackled, feeling immense pleasure at casting away her abstinence. After all, what sort of virtue was it, if it could be tainted so easily?
No, her chastity lay in the darkness and in her freedom, for she was the one true Queen of the Underworld.
~*FIN*~
MotY prompts:
1. (word) feminine
2. (colour) purple
3. (emotion) cheerful
4. (dialogue) "Nobody gets to rescue me but me."
7. (location) A family home
8. (item) moonstone
9. (plot point) a female character, literally or figuratively, saves herself/someone else
10. (word) marriage
Chastity- Courage and boldness. Embracing of moral wholesomeness and achieving purity of thought through education and betterment. (Taken from the link posted on the QLFC Round 6 thread.)
(Basically I've experimented with her practicing the virtue through her abstinence, and then again, through her freedom. The logic behind it is that the darkness is purer than the light as it is all encompassing and cannot be tainted.)
Thank you for reading, and let me know what you thought!
Arty xx