Disclaimer: These characters belong to JK Rowling and various publishing houses and not to me. This story occurs right after the events in Half Blood Prince.
Paying Your Dues
The unkempt guard pocketed his newly acquired galleons and turned to lead the slight figure down the dark corridor. The woman followed slowly, her hood hiding her face from the curious.
The air in the prison was dank and she could almost smell the fear, desperation, and hopelessness that mingled with the stench of filth. She shuddered involuntarily. Although she knew the conditions were deplorable, they were nothing compared to the icy feel of death that had existed when the dementors had guarded the prison.
As she followed the greedy guard, she wondered at the condition she would find Lucius in when she reached him. It was hard to picture him in this place; it was such a contrast to his beauty and his spirit. He was not a man to be beaten or rundown.
They passed other prisoners in their cells, but she kept her eyes forward. She did not want to see them, to think about this place and the desolate souls incased within. Her thoughts of seeing him again propelled her forward anytime she felt the urge to turn around and flee. He was expecting her. She couldn't disappoint him.
Not any more than she already had.
At last they reached his cell. It was separate from the others, secluded from the general population. This didn't surprise her. He had money and while that wouldn't have mattered much with the dementors, the Ministry's desperate attempts to guard the prison resulted in a less than scrupulous bunch, and they at least appreciated the worth of a galleon.
The guard let her into the small area and then seemed to melt back into the walls. She was sure he was still around, watching them but at least they had the appearance of being alone.
He had not yet turned to face her, and yet she was sure he knew she was there. His clothes were worn and graying from the grime that seemed to permeate the place. Still, there was a regal air about him that took her breath away in its familiarity.
This was her love.
Her Lucius.
He turned toward her then, his grey eyes piercing through the armor she had so carefully constructed.
"My dear," he said softly. "Come closer so I can see you better. It is always so bloody dark in this hideous place."
She did as he instructed. Just as she always did. He had seemed to cast a spell on her those many years ago, and she knew she would never be free of it. Not that it mattered. She loved him, and she would do anything for him. Which brought them to this point in time.
She was close to him now. Close enough for him to touch her, even though he did not.
"Well?" he continued. His voice was low in case the guard was still there listening. "What is happening? Tell me … has Draco succeeded?"
She hesitated.
How could she tell him?
Selfishly, she wanted a moment. A moment to relish being near him after so much time apart. Just a moment before …
His eyes narrowed at her hesitation, obviously fearing the worst.
"Tell me!" he commanded grabbing her arm tightly.
"Lucius," she said, not flinching or pulling away. "Let me begin by telling you that Dumbledore is dead."
"This is good news, indeed. Then Draco has succeeded!" But the look on her face told him differently.
"Not exactly."
"I am losing my patience, my dear," he growled at her. His face was inches from hers. "I suggest you tell me what is happening with my son."
She realized her moment to relish being near Lucius was over.
She'd had enough.
"Really, Lucius," she said, finally pulling her arm away. "There is no reason to bully me. After all, I am here of my own accord. I have come precisely for that reason … to give you information. Perhaps we could just skip over you trying to intimidate me and just get on with it, shall we?"
"As you wish, my dear," he agreed, silkily. "However, if I remember correctly, that used to be your favorite part."
She just glared at him, although she too remembered those days. She would not let him seduce her … not yet, anyway.
"Very, well," he continued. "Explain what has happened. I am afraid I do not get any news in here."
"Snape was the one to kill Dumbledore."
"Snape?" She could tell he was surprised … and angry.
"How could you let this happen?" he demanded.
"How could I have stopped it, Lucius?"
"You could have followed the plan! I trusted you to do what was needed. Now the Dark Lord will be furious with Draco for failing, and he will have him killed!"
"Lucius, he is safe. He is with Snape."
"And how long do you think it will take the Dark Lord to find him?" He stared at her, his eyes penetrating. "You have failed me."
Although the words were said calmly, she felt as if he had slapped her.
"I did all I could." She was almost pleading with him to understand.
"I do not believe that," he answered. "You should have done more."
"More?" Her voice rose in anger. "Did you say more, Lucius? I betrayed them! They trusted me, and I betrayed them. I am the reason Dumbledore is dead at this moment. A man who did nothing to me but believe in me and help me any chance he could. I went against everything I ever believed in … for you! It was all for you, Lucius! There was no other reason. And yet you think I could have done more?"
She yanked off her hood in her anger. She wanted him to see her face clearly … to see how much he had hurt her. Her curly hair was piled on her head but tendrils had broken free of their binds and framed her lovely face.
"Calm yourself, Rosmerta," he instructed her with a whispered command. "Before we have half the guards in the prison down here."
She continued to glower at him, her chest heaving in anger.
"While I do admit that you have done a great deal for me, I have to point out that you are not actually in prison … and you are not on the run from the Dark Lord. In fact, if things went according to plan, everyone now believes you were under the Imperious curse. So no one actually knows that you betrayed them. Is that not correct, Madam Rosmerta?"
"Yes, but I know!"
"You also know that you will be rewarded greatly for your assistance, my dear."
"I do not want your money, Lucius," she replied, still angry.
"I was not talking of money, my sweet Rosmerta." He lifted his hand and lightly touched the side of her face. His voice was now low and husky, and her body reacted to each velvety syllable.
His hand traveled to her throat as his thumb stroked the vein pulsing there. He leaned into her and took a long sniff.
"You smell so sweet … so clean. It has been so long since I have been around anything clean!" He slowly ran his tongue over her jaw, tracing it to her ear.
"You taste delicious," he whispered before taking her earlobe into his mouth.
Rosmerta melted against him. It had been so long since they were this close: since he had touched her, kissed her… licked her.
"Lucius," she breathed. It wasn't a statement but more a plea for him not to stop.
"My dear, I am looking forward to tasting you, thoroughly. I have been starved for far too long. But first, I need to know if you followed my orders, exactly."
He reached into her cloak, and she knew he was pleased with the results.
"Lovely," he murmured as he drew back the cloak to reveal her lush, naked body.
She gasped as the sudden coolness of the prison air hit her fevered body.
"Lucius," she protested. "The guard … I think he is still here, watching."
"I have no doubt that you are correct, my dear," he purred in her ear. "So let us not disappoint him."
Rosmerta wanted to protest further but found that the thought of some unseen person watching them was strangely erotic. Until Lucius, she realized, she had never had such decadent thoughts.
She felt as if she were on fire. She wasn't sure if she was reacting to the thought of the other man watching or Lucius' voice and wandering hand, and at this point she didn't even care.
"What do you think, my dear? Would our poor guard risk losing his hands just to touch you once?" He leaned in closer to her ear and whispered, "I would."
"Please Lucius," she cried.
"Do you want me, my sweet?" he asked silkily.
"Yes," she whispered desperately.
He guided her towards the small dirty looking cot in the corner of the room that was covered by an old blanket. The cool air surrounded her as he discarded her cloak. He pulled her down onto the bed. He was still completely clothed but this was not something unusual. She wanted to undress him … to feel his body against hers. But she knew that she would have to follow his lead.
He touched every part of her. The feel of his hands was exciting and yet familiar. He knew her so well. What she liked. What she didn't like.
He was teasing her … and punishing her. He was still upset about Draco.
Her thoughts didn't dwell on that. How could they when he was doing such wondrous things to her.
They both reached a fevered pitch quickly; it had been so long … and the guard was still watching. Lucius unclothed just enough to do what he needed to do. Rosmerta, although disappointed, enjoyed the feel of the rough clothes against her sensitive skin.
Their release came swiftly.
He cleaned them with a flick of his hand while Rosmerta retrieved her discarded cloak.
"I am surprised you are able to perform magic here."
"Only the simplest spells are allowed," he answered. "Money does have its rewards."
Trying to draw out the time before she had to leave, she gazed lovingly at the wizard in front of her. She touched his cheek gently and for a second he let himself give in to the tender feelings.
"You will look out for my son?" he asked breaking the moment. "I expect you to bring me any news."
"Of course, Lucius," she responded. "Do you think I will be able to return?"
"I do," he said with a smirk. "And I expect next time you won't even need galleons."
A/N: Written for The Sky is Falling Festival on Sycophant Hex.
The following prompts were used: non-conventional pairing, exhibitionism, most original place. This version is edited so that I could post it on this site.