"Those who are unhappy are those who do not know what they want. You cannot deny that your sister has always been unhappy, and I find it fairly obvious that hers was a mistake borne of rashness and misery."
"She hates us Lucius, my own sister hates me! Say it as prettily as you'd like, but it means the same thing. It was never so bad before Bella joined the wretched-"
"Narcissa!" Her husband's voice was full of warning, and Narcissa hung her head dejectedly.
"You know I don't really- It's just- Andromeda…"
"I understand," Lucius purred, his tone instantly caressing once more. The blatant lie held little comfort to his young wife, who bit her lip and blinked several times. She was clearly trying so hard not to cry, but when her efforts were unsuccessful, she stood and glided over to the window of the lavish study she sat in to stare unseeingly through the rain-streaked panes onto the grounds beyond.
"They won't forgive her. Not Father or Mother…especially not Bella. I- I shouldn't either. After all, a Muggle-born… an unashamed one, at that. But my sister…Dromeda…" She stopped, certain her tone was reflecting too evidently what she was feeling. Lucius won't approve, her mind chanted needlessly. Care for her as he might, it was only a matter of time before his short temper snapped and he started yelling about how she wasn't supporting her purity, her Black and Malfoy names, how Andromeda was as worthless now as the mudblood she'd wed before storming from the room in disgust. True, he'd take her in his arms later, stroke her hair and perhaps even apologize for the outburst, but Narcissa didn't think she could handle his angry words at the moment without breaking down entirely.
"Lucius… Could I ask you for a favor?"
"You may ask anything you wish, my dear, but I promise no return."
"Would you- That is to say, I'd like some privacy for the time being." She managed, vowing not to swipe the moisture from her eyes until he had gone.
There was a moment's pause, and then a faint rustle that indicated him standing. Several seconds of his padding footstep across the lush carpet, and Narcissa gasped in surprise when hand fell upon her shoulder.
"Do you truly wish me to leave?" His breath was warm against her ear, and Narcissa turned to look at him. A mistake, as her gaze was now locked with his intense grey one.
"I-" She was at a loss for words. Then, slowly, cautiously, Lucius raised his hand. Instinctively Narcissa flinched, despite the fact that Lucius had never laid a hand upon her intending harm during the extent of their relationship. Blushing slightly at her loss of composure, Narcissa drew her eyes back to his, stunned and confused by the pained expression she saw there. His hand, still raised, reached forward, even more tentatively, and Narcissa found herself incapable of breathing as she felt the slightly-callused pad of his thumb carefully brush the tears from her cheek.
"Lucius?" But he ignored her questioning tone.
"Don't cry." The words didn't sound like a command, but a request. A highly unusual occurrence with her forceful husband.
"I still love her despite what she did, but she doesn't love me." Narcissa whispered in an attempt to explain. Lucius shook his head slowly, and cupped her face in his hands.
"I love you, Narcissa," He murmured candidly. Narcissa gaped. Perhaps this whole conversation was just a warped dream- it certainly had the quality of one as Lucius dipped his head, lightly kissing each closed eyelid, her damp cheeks, and finally, her moist lips. With utmost gentleness, he tasted the saltiness there, and deepened his touch only when her lips parted without persuasion.
He was never so tender before as then, his fingers sweeping along her throat and shoulders, and finally pulling her into a protective embrace.
"And even if those words mean nothing to you, I swear to you I will do all that is in my power to see to it that you never shed another tear. And when it is not within my power, I hope the knowledge will be of at least some comfort to you."
She was still speechless from his declaration of love- the first that had ever passed his lips- and this second promise was almost too much.
"I-I don't know if I love you!" She blurted nakedly. They'd been married for only a year, a marriage neither had been given a say in, and what could she give him but the truth? Lucius's nod was not a surprised one.
"I don't expect, nor have I have asked you to. I will be content for now, my dear, if you simply don't cry."
A/N: This was originally for the Whos Line? contest at the Hideaway, but I got carried away with nearly 800 words where only 500 are allow. I wanted the post the 'uncut' version here. Tell me what you think?