Yet more Narcissa. I'm not sure about my characterization of Lucius. Comments? The title, by the way, is from the musical Chess, which is brilliant.
Narcissa Black Malfoy sat in her window seat watching rain pour down on the Malfoy property. It was a lonely sight, looking out over miles of drenched lawns and forests. From this window the little cottages of their tenants were invisible, leaving Narcissa to feel as though she was the only human for miles around. The windowsill she sat on, the largest one in her suite of rooms, was draped in pale green silk, matching the delicate embroidery on the fragile white settee and chairs. The room was also empty, as was the rest of the manor. Lucius was gone, and would not be home until dinner or later. The manor, beautiful and full when Lucius was there suddenly felt enormous and hollow without its dazzling master. Feeling her eyes fill with tears of loneliness, Narcissa turned quickly away from the window, clapping her hands for her house elf. Eli appeared with silently, as Narcissa commanded. She hated the way the elves would arrive so loudly and startle everyone in the room. Today, however, the unnatural silence disconcerted her. Still, she spoke mildly enough to the elf, simply commanding tea to be brought to her study. It wouldn't do to show her feelings to anyone, even an elf.
Narcissa's study was as clean and delicate as all her other rooms. Though her desk was made of the same dark hardwood as Lucius's, the carving was delicate rather than imposing, and when backed by the pale blue walls and gauzy white curtains, even the heavy dark wood was cowed into femininity. By the time Narcissa had settled herself in the ornately carved desk chair, a wedding gift from her uncle, Eli had brought the tea, perfectly steeped in Narcissa's favorite teapot, with no cakes. Narcissa smiled at it, glad of the simple fact that the house elf already knew her preferences after so few months. Then Mrs. Malfoy, sipping her tea, turned her attention to her desk, and the fresh stationery sitting there, awaiting use.
Tapping an eagle feather quill against her lips, Narcissa considered the leaf before her. It was her favorite pale green, with her initials, NBM, embossed in silver on the top. Finally, she placed it back in the drawer from which it had come. That stationery was for invitations to the first tea party she would host here, or possibly to invite someone who needed to be put in his place. Right now she needed find out exactly what was happening in society. For the past few months she'd heard practically nothing of the marriages and births and deaths and affairs of the wizarding world, first as she lost track of other affairs for her wedding, then the honeymoon, and now settling in to Malfoy Manor and arranging everything to her taste. But finally it was time for her to take up all the threads she had left hanging when she had told Lucius "Yes."
Narcissa pulled a very different set of stationery from her drawer. These pages were delicate pink, and the header was a frothy bouquet of narcissus, a birthday gift from her mother some years before. Smiling unthinkingly at the memory, Narcissa bent to compose a note inviting Dacia Woodworth to tea the next day. Dacia had never been a close friend of Miss Narcissa, but would certainly visit, if only to see how her old classmate had changed after her marriage. And Narcissa, in turn, would learn every scandal that she didn't know, and probably some that she did. Smiling at this neat method of dealing with her problem (asking Bella or Mother would be tantamount to admitting weakness), Narcissa finished the carefully worded note with a flourish, then paused to consider her signature. Finally, she signed her name in its entirety: Narcissa Black Malfoy. Looking at her first real signature as a married woman, Narcissa smiled with true satisfaction and clapped her hands for Eli to take away the remains of tea, and mail Narcissa's re-acquaintance into the high society of the wizarding world.
Lucius returned earlier than she'd expected him. Narcissa was changing for dinner when he clattered up to the front door, shoulders slumped against the wind and rain. Malfoy Manor, so far as Narcissa knew, was impossible to Apparate to, even for its master, so everyone entering had to come through the gatehouse, and thus pass inspection from their utterly reliable and rather large gatekeeper. The wide sloping road that led from the gatehouse to the Manor was a pleasant enough drive in fine weather, but carefully designed to intimidate the uninitiated, taking a long curving path to the house, showing glimpses of it at all angles, before bringing one directly up to its forbidding doorstep. There was a quicker path through the grounds that Lucius had shown Narcissa once, and both kept horses in the gatehouse stables against the chance of inclimate weather. By the time Lucius had divested himself of his horse and cloak, Narcissa was waiting for him in the family parlor, a fire already lit and a drink waiting by his chair. This parlor still boar the legacy of Marguerite Malfoy, dead for nearly three years now, but Narcissa still couldn't bring herself to refurnish this one tribute to Lucius' beautiful, delicate mother. The room was done entirely in shades of rose, from the delicate tint of the walls to the thick, dark, rose-patterned carpet. Marguerite had always kept fresh roses in this room, but Narcissa hadn't been able to find either the elegant crystal vases or Marguerite's secret horde of winter roses, so the room was now scented by dried rose potpourri in a china jar on an out of the way table. Rose, Narcissa remembered Marguerite telling her, was the perfect color for a family room; gently relaxing, warm enough to make everyone seem comfortable, even they hadn't spoken in years. Rose would never do for a formal receiving parlor; visitors were to be put in their place by imposing dark paneling, or made uneasy by unnaturally pristine white.
Lucius swirled in, still wet and obviously in a bad temper. He dropped into his chair by the fire, and sneered at it for a moment before glancing up to look at Narcissa, who sat on the end of one of the soft carnation couches, her eyes firmly on her work. As she glanced up at him through her eyelashes, a reluctant grin appeared on his face. Narcissa smiled back, then inquired, "How was your day?"
"Unpleasent," Lucius replied. "I was at the Ministry today, and I ran into more mudbloods and muggle-lovers than I care to think about." He paused then added, "I'll be late tomorrow. If this dreadful weather's past by the afternoon, I wanted look over the grounds with Goyle." Goyle was the groundskeeper, a large and taciturn man who had yet to say more than "Yes m'lady, no m'lady, if you please m'lady" in Narcissa's presence.
"Of course," Narcissa said. "I hope to see Dacia Woodworth for tea tomorrow," she added in passing.
Lucius raised a sardonic gold brow. "Don't you mean you hope to hear her? If I recall correctly, my dear, Dacia Woodworth wasn't silent for more than ten minutes her entire time Hogwarts."
Narcissa smiled in spite of herself. In private, Lucius had a sharper tongue than anyone gave him credit for. She felt impelled to correct her husband, however. "You recall incorrectly. There was the time Severus put a silencing charm on her for two hours the week we took our OWLs."
Lucius chuckled, and rose, offering her his arm. "I stand corrected. I presume dinner is ready?"
Dinner in Malfoy Manor was not always the grand affair guests received. There was a small dining room in the South wing, all in mint and chocolate, with a circular, walnut table just the size for a small family. This was the supper room, whenever Lucius was home for that meal. When he wasn't Narcissa chose to take her meals in her own suite, where the pervading loneliness of the empty house was less penetrating. Narcissa shook her head slightly to herself as she entered their dining room. Lucius was already there, holding her chair, and the whole room, one she tended to avoid particularly when alone because the little carved gargoyles seemed to scowl so fiercely and without food the whole place seemed echoey as a cave, was now warm and cozy, and the gargoyle's grotesque expressions appeared to be parodies of smiles rather than frowns. Sometimes Narcissa wondered just how much the magic in Malfoy Manor was tied to the master, and if she'd ever get used to the way the whole place seemed to miss Lucius when he was gone. Smiling a thank-you at him as she sat, Narcissa decided she probably wouldn't.
Dinner was a pleasant meal, during which Narcissa forgot, as she always forgot in the evenings, the loneliness and emptiness of the afternoon. They were just finishing their sherbet, and Narcissa was thinking what a pleasant evening this would be for music, when Lucius stood abruptly, his spoon clattering to his bowl, and his face tight.
"I apologize for my departure, but urgent business. I will see you later, my dear," he said as he crossed the room in a few swift strides, and was out the door before Narcissa had risen. She hurried after him to the front hall, feeling utterly useless. He stood there, cane in hand, calling impatiently for Dobby to bring his coat. When the harried house-elf appeared with the requested item, Lucius shrugged quickly into it, and set out. Just before he pulled open the front door, he turned to see Narcissa watching him the slightest of worried frowns marring her brow. He smiled at her, in spite of it all, and touched her cheek lightly, "Don't wait up, Narcissa. I don't know when I'll be back." Then he was gone, back out into the furious night.
Trying to smooth away the frown, Narcissa clapped her hands for Eli to clear the dinner dishes away, returned to the family parlor, and took up her lace again.