Prisoner
Within the bars of his cell, Lucius contemplated the cloaked figure before him that was being (rather reluctantly) searched and stripped of any potentially threatening items. It was unusual that this visit required the escort of three dementors. Such precautions had never been taken upon his wife's arrival.- if this was, indeed, his wife.
But something in the way the dementors were handling the visitor caused him to believe it was not.
The figure was promptly stopped before the cell door and thrust inside. It reflexively pulled away from the skeletal fingers of the guard, causing the hood to fall loose and Lucius's curiosity to peak. He caught sight of the raven hair and tanned flesh just as the door was shut and bolted.
"I see Azkaban has not treated your hair kindly, my dear."
"What are you doing here?" He asked hoarsely.
Bellatrix Lestrange put her hands on her hips in mock offense. "That's how you greet your dear sister-in-law?"
"You must forgive me, but I was hardly expecting a visit from you."
She dismissed his remark with the wave of a hand and seated herself in the metal chair opposite him. "Can you believe the nerve? To lay a hand on me…"
Lucius hesitated, unsure whether to interrupt. The hostile look in her eye made him slightly uneasy. "I don't presume you're bringing good news concerning my release?"
His question seemed to shake her from her thoughts. She straightened herself as she regained composure. "The Dark Lord is still very angry with you, Lucius. And rightfully so." She added quickly as if half expecting the Dark Lord's approval to follow. "He doesn't seem to think you've learned your lesson yet."
"And what do you think?"
"Excuse me?"
"Don't you think I have been punished enough?"
"I think a few months is hardly sufficient compared to the time other followers- more devout followers- have served."
"You're implying yourself?"
"I did not have the luxury of those who were willing to negotiate my freedom as you do." She whispered with a hint of bitterness. "I was abandoned. Left to rot in a cell for twelve years."
Lucius inwardly cringed at her words. They had a sickly truth to them. In a sense, Azkaban had rotted her. It had made her distant, cold. It had depleted her body of any life inside and out. Suddenly her sunken eyes became too unbearable to watch. He turned, forcing the thoughts from his head.
This wouldn't happen to him. He wouldn't allow it.
"How is Rudolphus?" He redirected gently.
"His mistress would know better than I." He was not surprised by the bitterness in her reply. To Bellatrix, adultery was considered a vice only when practiced by anyone not pertaining to herself. He had learned long ago not to press that matter.
"And Severus?"
"What do I look like, your messenger?"
An uncomfortable silence filled the air as he watched her slender fingers roam across the pocket that normally held her wand.
"If you don't mind my asking, Bella, why are you here?"
"Finally a question I like."
He paused in anticipation of her answer, but when it became obvious she was waiting for him to pursue it, he sighed. "Care to elaborate?"
"Lately I've been finding myself unsure of how to… occupy myself."
And that was an answer he liked.
They locked eyes and for just a moment she didn't appear quite so withdrawn and distant. No, she was not showering him with the affection he was accustomed to with Narcissa. But she was present, listening. It was all that she was capable of and, having learned to accept this long ago, it was all that he asked for.
"Come here."
She stood without question, brushing off her robes and crawling into his lap. Her complacency was not unknown to him, but he reveled in it nonetheless. It took true skill to master Bellatrix Lestrange's obedience.
"Is this what is bothering my vixen? She is lonely?"
"She is bored." She said flatly.
"And what can I do to ease this boredom?" He drawled, pushing back the tangled locks of hair to trail his lips along her collar bone. This among all was what distinguished her from her sister. Such a dissimilar bone structure, he thought to himself. While Narcissa's was elegant and refined, hers was harsh and severe. His lovely corpse.
Bellatrix arched her back appreciatively at the attention, running her fingers through his blonde tresses. "My dear brother," She purred into his ear. "I've never known you to neglect a comb like such."
"Narcissa regrettably visits only once a week to maintain my grooming."
She gave a snort of contempt and closed her mouth over his. She was bored of speaking of her sister. She always grew bored of her sister in his presence. He couldn't help but wonder if, had she possessed any rational emotion, jealousy would be responsible for this.
An assertive tongue forced itself between his lips, tasting, claiming as her own. He slid his hands beneath her thighs and slammed her heavily against his hardening erection.
She let out a shrill laugh. "My, prison has made you primitive!"
"I see no problem with acting the part I look." He jested.
"Just don't let that get to your head."
He slid the cloak from her body, revealing a black evening gown beneath. Though she was not adorned with the intricate jewels and fur custom in his wife's evening wardrobe, he could tell she had been somewhere extravagant.
"If I had known you were dressing up for the occasion..." He mused.
"Lucius, I was not joking." She took his head abruptly in her hands and stared into his face with a seriousness that sent chills down his spine. "You cannot allow this to bring pleasant thoughts to your mind. You must be unfeeling. If anything, think of the betrayal to your wife and son. Think of the guilt and the pain and the suffering you will cause them."
"I hardly find that encouraging..."
"I would like for you to have some remainder of a soul when I set you free."
His eyes lit up with excitement. "You will help me escape then?"
"Don't let that concern you at the moment. I only mention it now to get a rise out of you." She placed her hand cleverly over the growing bulge in his trousers to emphasize her pun.
He winced slightly at the weight of her touch. It was taking great strain to focus on her words. "But you will?"
"Of course. I wouldn't be doing my sister a favor by leaving her husband here to whither, now would I?"
With her confirmation, an overwhelming desire flooded his senses; the need to show his gratitude. He unbuttoned his trousers with a grunt and thrust himself inside her.
Their pace was hurried, ravaging, and when he reached his ecstasy, Bellatrix pressed her lips to his damp forehead and stood. The black gown fell around the reddened flesh of her thighs like curtains. His body remained limp, panting as he watched her turn to go. A slight feeling of abandonment turned in his stomach but he dismissed it, having reminded himself that he had done the same to her on many occasions. Besides, there was a more important matter to be concerned with.
"Where are you going?"
"You don't very well expect me to hang around this dreadful cell all day, do you?"
"What about your promise?" He breathed. It had come out almost as a plea and he sensed she knew this.
"Patients, my love. I didn't say I would free you just yet." She cast a smirk over her shoulder as her fingers paused on the door.
"Bella…"
"You should be joyous, Lucius. A few more years here will do a body good."
And with that, she was gone; vanished into the darkness beyond the cell. The faint scent of perfume lingered behind her like a ghost. He exhaled deeply to rid the scent from his nose. Though he did not admit it, the reminder of her presence left him aching, longing.
It was then, for the first time during his sentence, it occurred to him who his true captor was.
And he was her prisoner in more ways than he could ever wish to know.