Written for Lady Eleanor Boleyn's 'Ten Deadly Sins' challenge at xoxLewrahxox's forum.
Prompt: write a drabble with a word count of an exact multiple of 100 -or at least, as close as possible - I don't mind if it's a few words under or over - dealing with a HP character (or characters) and one or more of the Seven Deadly Sins - Envy, Lust, Rage, Gluttony, Greed, Sloth and Pride.
This is lust and pride
Exactly 1,200 words
The terms of Pureblood marriage vows were known by all members of the wizarding aristocracy from a young age. Mothers told their daughters, and fathers told their sons. The words were always a bit different, but the meaning was always the same.
On the wedding night of Rodolphus and Bellatrix Lestrange, the terms were not far from either of their minds.
The wedding had been a grand affair, after all, the marriage of the firstborn children from two of the most influential wizarding families in Europe was not an everyday occurrence. Anyone who was at all important had been invited to watch the bonding ceremony, and even more were invited to the reception.
But now, with everyone gone and Lestrange Manor empty but for the newlyweds, the gravity of the situation was descending upon the two. They were married.
It was late, and they both knew that they ought to get to sleep; their coach would be leaving for Marseilles early in the morning. But they sat instead in the library, Rodolphus swirling his brandy, and Bellatrix staring at the fire, as if willing someone to appear out of it and break the tense, uncertain silence.
Bellatrix and Rodolphus had never spent much time alone, and neither knew what to say. Rodolphus sighed and leaned back in his chair, trying to remember the terms of the bond.
Pureblood marriage vows will be nullified if the bond is not consummated within one month of the bonding ceremony.
And there was Bellatrix, sitting across from him, perfectly awake, still in her wedding robes. Would she? Tonight…?
Unbidden, images came, of him, taking off her robes, lying her down on the bed, bringing a hand down to her thighs, to spread them, Bellatrix moaning happily (of course) and begging to take him in her mouth, she'd always wondered what that would be like…
His grip on his glass of brandy tightened.
Please, Rodolphus, oh I've dreamed of this moment so long…Bellatrix on her knees before him, looking up with eager eyes, Bellatrix on the bed, back arched, crying out for more! please, oh more! more! ohh!
Rodolphus cleared his throat and said, "Bellatrix, why don't we go upstairs?"
She turned slowly to face him. "I'm not tired, Rodolphus." Her voice sounded dead.
"Neither am I."
Understanding dawned on her face, and she shifted uncomfortably. "Rodolphus…I…" Think you're disgusting? Would rather have sex with a Weasley? – no, that's going too far.
She looked at him for perhaps the first time all day, and took him in. He wasn't bad looking, of course. Pointed black beard, straight nose, dark eyes. But he wasn't what she wanted. Not now, perhaps not ever.
But there he was, standing patiently, waiting for her. Whether now or later, it would have to happen.
She gave a quiet sigh and stood. She couldn't think of anything to say, so she followed in silence.
When they reached the door of what was now their bedroom, Rodolphus turned around and smiled. A tender, reassuring smile, the kind of smile that said, 'everything will be perfect, my love', the kind of smile that Bellatrix hated. But of course, Rodolphus didn't know that.
He took her hand in his own and pushed the door open, leading her to the bed. She sat down on the edge of it, not looking any more comfortable than she did in the library. But Rodolphus didn't notice that. He brought a hand to her cheek, tenderly brushing it with his thumb, his face so close to hers that she could feel his warmth, the soft tickle of his breath on her neck, and she flinched. But Rodolphus didn't notice that. His hand moved slowly down her cheek, her neck, until it reached the edge of her robes, where it hesitated a fraction of a moment, then moved further down, coming to rest just where her heart was. But of course, it wasn't her heart he was interested in. She stiffened, but Rodolphus didn't notice that.
His other hand found her shoulder at the same time as his mouth found hers. And by pushing ever so tenderly, he brought her to her back, and he was lying atop her, his mouth, soft and warm, pressed against hers, one hand in her hair, in a moment destroying hours of work, his other hand still by her heart, trying to find the key to make her open for him.
Bellatrix shut her eyes and gave a choked, unbidden whimper. It sounded weak even to her, and she hated herself for it. She was the eldest daughter of the oldest and most important family, perhaps in all the world, and she ought not whimper. But Rodolphus took it as a different sign, not of weakness, but pleasure. Lust.
His fingers found the edges of her robes, and he slipped them off neatly, gently. When his fingers touched the flesh of her abdomen, Bellatrix's toes curled, half in pleasure, half in horror.
A Pureblood bond of marriage may be nullified if the woman if found not to be a virgin.
Her mother had read her the book of rules on Pureblood bonds when she was thirteen. That rule had always stuck with her, and now she knew why. She wished, more than anything, to be able to push him off, shout 'It won't work!' and have him stop forever, never marry again. But she couldn't.
For the first month of Pureblood bonds, both parties are placed under a strict Veritas spell.
She couldn't, because she knew what would happen if she lied.
Rodolphus' hands were wandering again, and they found something that nearly caused another unbidden whimper.
He removed his mouth from hers, but his face remained close.
"Bella," he breathed, "will you let me make you my wife?"
Her jaw tightened. That name. That name of all others. How dare he? But she couldn't say it. Not when it would bring shame to her family. There was only one proper thing to do. It had to happen. She was a Black, and blood came before water. Her family wanted this, and this she must do.
But she couldn't say it. That would be giving too much. So she nodded, a tiny inclination of her head. But it was enough, and soon something that wasn't his hands was pressing against her, in a place she reserved only for herself.
Close your eyes and think of the family tree. Narcissa had said, jokingly. Think of all those rules you've got to obey. There's so many he'll probably be done before you. She'd giggled.
Stiff as a board, Bellatrix lay.
Laid on the bed.
Hungrily, and so easily Bellatrix was ashamed, he pushed.
I am a Black. Bellatrix Black, daughter of Cygnus and Druella Black, nee Rosier. My sister is Narcissa Black. My cousin is Regulus Black, son of Orion and Walburga Black. My grandparents are Pollux and Irma Black, nee Crabbe.
I am a Black, I am a Black, IamaBlack, IamaBlackiamablackiamablack
blackblackblack
I Am A –
Rodolphus groaned, pressed hard against some part within her that still needed something. He withdrew himself, but the ache remained.
"Mrs. Lestrange," he murmured, and kissed her forehead.
Black.
What do you think of this, hm? (Perhaps spare a moment for a review...?)