Bellatrix was terrified. She had never done this before. She felt totally unprepared. She couldn't ask her sisters for advice, because they were younger than her, and they certainly hadn't done it. And she couldn't ask her mother because, well... they just didn't have thatsort of relationship. The only person Bella knew who had done it was her sort of friend, Marysia Elmtree. And even she was only a friend because pure blood ran through her veins.
And so Bella had gone with Marysia to some fancy boutique with ludicrous price tags, owned by a glamorous woman with a fake French accent. She had purchased the purple silk underwear with the black lace trim, because Marysia insisted that it went well with her skin tone, and now here she was dressed in it, stood staring at herself in the bathroom mirror with the door locked. And she felt like an idiot.
She had waxed and plucked and buffered and polished every inch of her skin not just in preperation for the wedding, but for the night that she knew was to inveitably follow. She had taken her hair down from the veil and the pins that had restricted it all day, and her black curls now tumbled softly over her shoulders. She had taken off most of the heavy make up that had made her feel like a fool, and now her face looked a little less flawless and her eyes were less pronounced. But she felt more comfortable that way.
Bella still couldn't get her head around the fact that she and Rodolphus had shared their first kiss only that day, and in front of the eager eyes of their friends and family. They had only ever met five times prior to their wedding day. And now here Bella stood, shivering in her ridiculous under wear, about to give herself away to a man she wasn't even sure she liked. Everything was moving too fast.
"We don't have to do anything until you're ready," Roldolphus had promised her when they had had the awkward conversation a few hours before about the night that was to follow. But Bella knew that the moment had to come eventually, and she'd just rather get it over and done with.
So, trying to stop her limbs from shaking, Bella unlocked the bathroom door and took a step outside in to the hall. The bedroom door was right in front of her, and to make matters worse it was closed. Feeling as if she was about to enter her execution, Bella gently knocked on the door first before entering. Roldolphus was sat on the bed, dressed in nothing but a pair of black boxer shorts. He was the first man Bella had ever seen half-naked before, and as her dark eyes roamed over his pale skin and his softly ripping muscles, Bella found herself blushing despite promising herself that she wouldn't.
They stared shyly at each other before Bella turned to close the door. Her heart felt like it was in her throat. When she turned back around Roldolphus was on his feet. He reached out a hand. "Come here," He ordered softly.
Bella stepped closer to him. Roldolphus took her hand and kissed it, then he lead her on to the bed. He had done this before, she knew he had. And that was what scared her the most. She didn't know what sort of man he was. He could easily ignore the fact that she was still totally inexperienced, a tiny fragile doll in his strong arms, and they both knew that he could really hurt her if he wanted to. But he didn't.
He didn't because if he was honest with himself Rodolphus felt sorry for Bella. She didn't want to marry him, he knew that much. This whole thing was being forced on her. But this he could make easy for her, and although he never usually spared the feelings of others, this time Roldolphus did because there was something about Bella that he truly liked, and if he wanted to make their relationship work then he knew he had to go about it the right way.
And so he was gentle. He was soft and loving and slow. He kissed every inch of her and whispered lovely things in her ear. He told her that she was beautiful and that he was so glad he had found her.
Bella didn't truly believe him. She knew that men would tell women anything to get what they wanted. But she allowed herself to sort of believe him, because nobody had ever treated her this way and she was, in a way, enjoying it.
It hurt. Like hell. But she knew that the experience could have been a million times worse. Afterwards Rodolphus kissed away her tears and tenderly washed the light smears of blood from her thighs and he held her in his arms as they fell asleep, and although Bella was only half sure that she liked him, and she knew that she definitely didn't love him, she was beginning to trust him.
It wasn't much to build a relationship on, but it was something.