Title: The Cane
Pairings: Lucius/Voldemort, Voldemort/Lucius' cane
Warnings: UST, implied slash, implied use of a sexual toy
Disclaimer: None of the characters used within this story are owned by me.
A/N: This story is a one shot, which will at some time be followed by a sequel or two. It is based on a challenge by masterofmercury, so thanks for the idea!
Summary: As stated by the challenge- 'For Voldemort, Lucius will always be his right hand man. Lucius is certain that it's not because of his services, since Voldemort never really asks for his counsel. He is also curious of why Voldemort demands that Lucius leave his cane with him for an hour every time he's summoned. Curious, eh?'
It had all started as a surprise. Even before Lucius had first been initiated into the Death Eaters, he had heard of the enigmatic man only known as Lord Voldemort. The power that he was told of was completely too appealing to even think of turning down. He did have the Malfoy name to uphold of course.
Upon first seeing his new master, even the pain throbbing through his arm caused by the dark mark being branded onto him could not distract him from slightly disturbing thoughts. He never imagined how amazing a man nearly thirty years his senior could look. Nor did he ever think that he would imagine himself in such a position, if such a position was even possible! Never would such an exquisite specimen glance at him in the way that he suddenly desired. To have that powerful flesh beneath his fingertips would be too much to hope for. Instead, he could only dream that he would be able to rise through the ranks high enough, quickly enough in order to be able to spend time in the presence of such a being. He had heard of the grotesqueness of his Lord, but either he usually used a glamour when in public, or Lucius was already immune to the waxy looks of his master that he had heard rumoured of through Bellatrix Black.
Finally the pain flowing through his left forearm ceased and upon looking down, the newly created blackened snake and skull tattoo was evident. Ideally this mar upon the once perfect skin would demonstrate just how much that he was prepared to do for his Lord. Nobody else in the world would have been able to touch his flawless flesh, let alone mark it to show that they own it. Hopefully this would be the first step in his rise to a more prominent position. Maybe his master night even want to inspect his body to prove that the brand had taken well and that would lead to…
Suddenly the raspy voice of his Lord interrupted his thoughts.
'Lucius, rise!' the Dark Lord Voldemort stated. 'You have chosen well boy. Welcome to the Death Eaters. Be prepared to put your training into use at a moments notice. Now leave your cane with me. You can pick it back up in an hour. Go!'
If Lucius had not been so depressed at being called boy and ordered around with so little emotion from the object of his recent fantasy, he might have taken the time to question why exactly he needed to leave his cane in the meeting hall. As it was though, he placed it at his Lords' feet like a sacrificial offering and proceeded to slightly limp out of the room.
Strangely enough, when Lucius returned to Riddle House to regain his beloved cane, he was presented with a much more different version of his Lord than was present in the meeting hall earlier on that evening. The skin on his face hadn't changed and his pupils still had a reddish tint to them, but if possible he would have thought that the Dark Lord had a very content, almost satisfied, expression on his face. He had walked out of a now locked room (that Lucius hoped was his bedroom), stroking the head of the sliver snake-topped cane and had peered at his servant, with a smirk upon his lips. After handing Lucius back his cane and reminding him to definitely bring it with him next time he visited the manor, for want of a reward. Before he left once again, he could have sworn that the Dark Lord had had some difficulty when walking back towards the locked door.
This became a regular occurrence over the next couple of years. Lucius became very well acquainted with the wide corridor that had the bare, wooden double doors at the end of it. He often stayed for a few minutes to stare at the portraits surrounding the door. Who exactly was Thomas Riddle? Well, whoever he was, if his master had not overtaken all thoughts in his mind, that fellow could definitely stand a chance with him. Long fingers framed the handsome face that was staring out of the frame. The dark coloured eyes, partially hidden by the even darker hair, seemed to gaze right into the soul of the painting's viewer. He seemed to be quite tall too; as if his arms could envelope somebody the size of even Lucius himself. The portrait to the other side of the door demonstrated the very same man, as he was a few years prior to the first picture. Apparently this man grew even more handsome with age. As beautiful looking as the boy version of Thomas was, the man was still breath-taking compared. However in Lucius' opinion, his Lord fit perfectly between the two pictures. His tapered fingers and smirking gaze almost seemed reminiscent of this Thomas figure in the paintings.
Lucius found many times when he wanted to question his Lord. Why were the portraits hanging on the walls outside the locked door. Who was the man in them? But most importantly, why on Earth did his Lord keep asking to borrow his cane, especially after all of these years? However, even though he had managed to rise right up to the inner circle and was ranked along with the very first Death Eaters to join the cause (a feet never before seen), he knew better than to question his Lords' wishes.
All of a sudden one day, just under a year later, Lucius was once again summoned to Riddle House. However, unlike every other time, now there was no other present in the room.
'Ah, there you are Lucius. I was starting to wonder if you had heard my call.'
Immediately Lucius fell to feet and started to grovel with the man he worshiped.
'I'm sorry my Lord. I was detained at Hogwarts- Board of Governors meeting. Dumbledore was unfortunately actually present this time, so I was forced to wait so that he would not become suspicious.' His pleading eyes stared up from his prone position on the floor, hoping more than anything else that he would gain his Lord's forgiveness.
'Don't let it happen again, Lucius,' he was told. 'For now I have a task for you. Leave your cane with me for the evening. You will be heading up the front tonight. The plan is to raid Hogsmead. We need to get the Death Eater name recognised. Take no prisoners. If Aurors show, you will beat them. Your job is to oversee the rest of your team, but do not fear for them. They already have been briefed. Just make sure to cast the Morsmordre before you Disapparate from the scene. Now give me your arm and leave your cane beside me.'
After dropping his cane to the side of his master's chair, Lucius rolled up his sleeve on his left arm to reveal the slightly dulled dark mark. However, after Lord Voldemort touched his tattoo, it darkened from grey to black. Other Death Eaters started to Apparate into the meeting room and within seconds a sizeable group of ten people had gathered in a semi-circle to surround their Lord and fellow Death Eater standing next to him.
Pointing to the now trapped Lucius, Voldemort said, 'Malfoy is to be your leader for this task. Do whatever he tells you to do. Now, go!'
With those few words, eleven pops could be heard echoing through the hall and Voldemort was left alone. Peering down to his side, he spotted the silver coated, black, wooden walking-stick. With a little smirk and a caress to the head of the silver snake, he clutched the cane and heading out of the meeting room, down the long corridor and towards the locked door.
Thanks to that first strike that Lucius directed, it did not take long for him to lead nearly every one of Lord Voldemort's plans. Although not all of the attacks went quite as smoothly as the first, not once did Lucius get badly injured. Bar the few mild scratches that he had gained when a misfired blast from an Auror's wand triggered a loose scrap of bark from the nearest tree to bounce into him, he was still as perfectly healthy as the day that he had joined his master's cause. His leg could still be a bother sometimes, but thankfully it did not affect his work and so was not viewed as a problem by him.
The only thing remotely wrong with him was the fact that his parents had forced him to become betrothed to a Narcissa Black. No amount of cajoling had managed him to escape the engagement, as the ring lying around a finger on his left hand announced. Even using the excuse that he was married to the cause and he had no time in his life for anything other than helping his Lord and bettering the Malfoy name could not stop the inevitable. When the time of his marriage came, after working as a Death Eater for about four years, he could only be glad that the marriage contract did not have an infidelity clause in it. No matter that he was now legally wed, when ever he was in his master's presence he still could not help but to revert to the state he was in the first time he bore eyes upon his Lord. Although he was not in his master's confidence, he took pride in the matter that none of the other Death Eaters were either and that for all purposes he could be perceived as the right hand man of the Dark Lord. He was never consulted though about his master's plans, so his services could not be what enticed him to his Lord, but there was nothing else that he could think of that would promote him to the right-hand man of the Death Eater regime. However, he still thought highly of himself. His sister-in-law Bellatrix may potter around trying to convince others that she got the pleasure of being called 'Bella' by their Lord, but only he got to lead practically all the attacks for their side of the fight. Surely that had to mean that his Lord trusted him? Well, no matter just how trusted he was to by his master, still at every meeting he was requested to leave his wand behind at every meeting, now for increasing amounts of time each time.
Unfortunately during one mission in mid-June of 1979, one of the higher Aurors (Lucius suspected Scrimgeour) was able to accurately throw a slashing hex at his already injured leg. The truth that his injurer probably would someday become the head Auror with an ability like that did nothing to relay his wounded pride. So before any more damage could be done, Lucius called a halt to the attack and signalled for all of the Death Eaters to retreat. With a quick tap on the dark mark on his arm, he Apparated back to the meeting room at Riddle House.
With his limp becoming even more pronounced by the second, Lucius decided that it would be better to risk Lord Voldemort's wrath by begging for his walking stick back than to just wait around whilst falling into agony. So after touching back down to Earth inside the meeting room and waiting for the dizzy feeling that he now always associated with distance travelling, he slowly made his way towards the locked room. A quick glance at his star-edged pocket watch revealed that his master was still due to keep his cane for another half hour according to the three hour loan that was now asked for. Lucius could not imagine that whatever the stick was being used for at the moment was more important than his injured leg and so he hoped that his Lord would understand that he needed it back early.
It was not long before he had reached the large locked doors, surrounded by the amazing portraits. Standing outside the room for a few seconds, he waited to try and gather his courage. It was never a good idea to disturb his Lord, especially without permission. Therefore he figured that to interrupt his master to demand something back from him would at least force him under a crucio until his mind became numb with pain. Although he thought about turning back around, a sudden twinge emanating from his lower leg made him reconsider the idea.
Bravely lifting his arm towards the door, he braced himself for what was to come. The abrupt banging was all that alerted him that he had already actually knocked on the doors. Apparently he was so deep into his fearful thoughts that he was unaware of his actions. The tapping thankfully roused him once again; as he did not want to be caught unaware by whatever his Lord would consider rightful revenge. After getting no response to the first knock, he raised his arm and thumped on the doors for a second time.
'Yes!' A muffled reply resounded through the entrance to the locked room. 'Come in Lucius!'
Lucius was almost positive that was what his master said, even if the tone was strange. He could have sworn that his Lord had moaned the words. Taking the words for what he thought he had heard, he slowly pushed open the doors. The eerie creaking noise demonstrated how little these doors were actually in use. He had actually only known the room to be used when Lord Voldemort asked to borrow his cane after meetings for a while. Usually he would have taken a moment of time to ponder the strangeness of that motion, but the sight that greeted him withdrew all notions from his mind and left him too gob-smacked to form any further thoughts.
When his brain decided to switch back on, the first thing to occur to him that his first guess was right- this room was definitely a bedroom. Ignoring the lush green carpet and silver-embroidered curtains, the most prominent feature of the room drew his eyes. It was not the antique furniture that was scattered randomly around the outskirts of the room or the massive snake curled up in the corner. In fact it was not even the giant king size bed, covered in thick forest green-coloured blankets that occupied his thoughts. Instead, the man that lay splashed across the middle of the bed was the focus of his stare. His master rested completely bare on top of the sheets, with his cane shining at his side. A closer inspection would have shown the source of the shine on his cane. He never had enough time in the last few weeks to polish it as his Lord had required it too often and so the shine expressed then should have been impossible. Of course that would be forgetting the oil that now covered it. A passing thought made him decide that he had definitely misheard his master's entrance invitation. Lucius' gasp upon realising that fact caused his master to awaken from his dreamy state.
Far from looking embarrassed at what Lucius must have known occurred just seconds before, the Dark Lord just turned his gaze towards his right hand man and smirked.
'Ahh Lucius, I suppose you would be wanting your cane back now. A true masterpiece it is. So finely made. It must be a pleasure to have.'
'I, I, I guess m-master.' Lucius managed to stutter out.
Never had he seen such a beautiful sight as that before him; his master in all his glory. His naked skin glistened with sweat that was starting to pool at the top of his thighs. His chest was rising and falling with the deep needed breaths, whilst his stomach muscles continued to ripple, helping to confirm suspicions of his previous activities. But despite this, his stare was locked upon his master's face. Although the sapphire eyes were the same (forgetting the glassy quality they had recently gained), the waxy features had been lost.
The handsome man from the portraits in the hallway was looking back at him. However, unlike the bored look displayed on those pictures, an almost unidentifiable gaze shone from the unique eyes. Never before had Lucius seen his Lord looking at him with such a praising appearance and he could only hope that he could see it again; forever if he had his way. In fact the only time that he had ever seen that kind of gaze was when he thought of his master, while looking in a mirror. A second glance told him that he was not imagining it. As Lucius smiled upon recognising the look and his smile was echoed back at him, he knew it was true. His beloved Lord was looking at him with love and he could not be happier because of it.
