Disclaimer: The Harry Potter universe belongs to JK Rowling. Only the original plot, characters etc are mine, and no money is being made.
Note: Just because Lucius is insane doesn't mean he doesn't know how to get what he wants. He is a Malfoy after all!
Thoughts: Hmmm.
This chapter has been re-worked due to thoughtful comments received. I hope it is improved! If you prefer the old chapter then I'll gladly re-post it here or at my greatestjournal or send it to you. No major changes have been made, but hopefully a greater insight into Lucius' mind is presented, showing what I intended.
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Part Two
Tom carefully sipped from the delicate bone china cup, the beautiful decorations reminding him of his beloved Lucius.
The Chinese man opposite observed the Dark Prince neutrally, allowing none of the distaste he must feel, to show. Replacing the cup on its equally insubstantial saucer – the delicateness reminding him once again of the fragile man he had left behind – Thomas Riddle decided to bring the negotiations to a close.
"In exchange for my protection of you and your people you shall grant me three of your excellent dragons, following with a fourth in one year: one queen, and three males. Do you find the deal fair?"
The old man studied the dark haired wizard as if he could see into the immortal's soul. Whatever he saw in the scarlet orbs seemed to soothe him and he gave a brisk nod in acquiescence. Smiling happily, Tom stood up and bowed in the formal tradition of the Dragon Lords.
"It has been pleasure to do business with you, Lord of the Silver-Gold Dragon. May we continue to have good relations."
The elder man stood as well and repeated the etiquette. Just as the Prince turned to depart his eyes caught sight of the flimsy tea sets on the shelves, one design standing out in particular.
Wraithlike dragons encircled each cup and saucer, their bodies inter-woven, their gleaming scales glowing in the light thrown by the oil lamps. Iridescent colours and precise brush stokes ensnared the imagination, while jewels and gemstones the size of birdseed bestowed the wise stare of the sinuous serpents.
Lucius will love the pattern. He does so enjoy a proper cup of tea, and this should bestow many hours of pleasure on my love.
Decision made Tom signalled to the man, alerting his attention to the tea set.
"How much?"
Five minutes later the Dark Lord exited the imposing building to walk through the breath-taking gardens protected from winter's cruel touch via magic. He meandered his way past carefully trimmed trees, feet brushing vibrant green grass aside in his wake.
He paused by a placid pond dusted with pink blossom and white lilies, taking a heartbeat to arrange his robes around his slender frame ere he and his guards Disapparated.
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Upon Apparating into the departure and arrival room Thomas found himself confronted with the displeased stares of two of Lucius' private Hi'dai. Not unduly concerned yet, he gestured for them to proceed into the adjoining room. However, Sadie's hand on his arm forestalled any such action. Immediately alarmed he hissed, "Speak."
The Lieutenant inclined her head a fraction in respect.
"My Lord," she began, "your husband is closeted with the rebel leader called General Weasley. He ordered everybody out, refusing to heed any advice and is now alone with the captive. Captain Blackston however, guards the doors, ensuring that nothing ill can happen to your Consort, but I think it would be prudent to move swiftly, your Highness, so as to end this madness."
She stiffened as her Lord's handsome face contorted in rage, not expecting any different from the protective and possessive husband of the Consort. As Thomas strode out she fell into step behind, determined to aid in whatever way she could.
Pausing only briefly at the entrance to the throne-room the tall wizard inhaled deeply, then flung the doors open, fearing what he would find. What he did see brought him no joy.
His husband was in a tête-à-tête with the infamous General Bill Weasley, whose paws were roaming a little too far over the person of his Consort.
"Good day Lucius," his voice rang loudly in the hushed hall, and he glared furiously at the startled General as he sneered, "Receiving gratification are we from my Consort?"
Bill warily climbed to his feet wondering what to do, an enraged husband was never a good thing, and when that vengeful husband was Voldemort – no, Thomas Riddle – then the situation was a thousand times worse.
However, before the volatile state of affairs could explode, Lucius distracted everyone's rather tense demeanours by running up to his husband and almost jumping into his arms.
"My love!" he cried, glee suffusing his entire body. "You have returned early! Oh! And just in time." Tugging on his husband's sleeve, he pulled the Dark Lord over to their thrones.
"Bill here has been keeping me company. You know I get bored so easily when you are away on those awful long trips?"
"Yes," replied Thomas cautiously, wondering where Lucius was heading.
"Well, now I have Bill to entertain me. Please, do not kill him Tom! It is so boring and repetitive here."
Lucius focused his entire being into getting what he wanted, ensuring to simper at his husband and play the devoted Consort (not that he wasn't devoted) to his Lord and Master. He loved Tom, but he was lonely and if Thomas refused to reduce his workload then he wanted someone who would keep him entertained.
It helped greatly that he was still mad enough so his thoughts were not entirely ordered or even sane. However, Lucius remained a clever and cunning opponent and not above giving his madness a nudge if it would aid him in his machinations. Not too strong a push – Lucius didn't want to fall over the brink has he had done five years ago in the dank, dreary cells of Azkaban. In many ways Lucius was more dangerous now than when he had been a hundred percent sane.
Gazing into the pleading eyes of the man he loved Tom felt himself crumble. He is so nearly healed. If this will do the trick then it is worth the price. However, that does not mean I will ignore protocol. I shall not endanger your safety for anything my pet.
Sighing, Tom tenderly stoked his husband's silky mane. Tugging gently on the strands he forced Lucius to look into his eyes.
"You can keep him, but he must be secure at all times and he will have guards on him twenty fours, seven days a week, understood? I want you safe, otherwise there is no concession."
Seeing the seriousness in his love's face Lucius nodded emphatically, nuzzling his head into the crook of his husband's neck when released. In his position Lucius did not see the threatening stare Thomas shot at Bill, followed by a very real threat in words.
"Know this General, you are only alive because my Consort wishes it and for no other reason. I would have killed you for simply daring to talk to Lucius about assuaging his boredom, let alone touching him. So be careful General, watch your step. Your life depends entirely on your actions and how long Lucius remains interested. Understood?"
Bill agreed even as he was led out of the hall. He knew how close he had been to death and that he owed his continued existence to Lucius Malfoy.
I will repay my life-debt Lucius. I shall never hurt you. Casting a look back at the happy couple Bill thought sorrowfully, I think you have always been a trifle insane.
"Go to our room my pet," breathed the Dark Lord, "I shall follow presently."
Grinning Lucius sprang to his feet, racing off, pleased to have gotten his way.
"I will check on our children husband!" he shouted as he disappeared, his guards on his heels.
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Entering the baby's bedroom Lucius smiled when he caught sight of his eldest son standing by the window, his back to the door.
Draco stood tall and regal in his elegant robes, all sleek and ominous lines. The weak winter sunlight caught the strands of white-blond hair as his son turned. The tousled locks brushed high cheekbones set in a face of remote beauty. A beauty of hard lines, jagged edges and frosty pallor all adding up to a lethal, untamed splendour. The eyes were grey stones of concrete, preventing anyone from reading Draco's true emotions. Stern and conceited, the young man reeked of power.
Lucius felt pride well up in his chest. My son is a true Malfoy.
Holding out his arms he accepted his son into his embrace, ignoring the stiff posture of the youth, pretending that his eldest son did not hate him for what had happened to his mother.
: Five Years Ago :
"It was an accident son," whispered Lucius frantically. "She left the safety of the Manor-"
"But why did she leave the confines of the Manor?" cried his son in grief. "She knew the dangers!"
"Valdis said that he did all he could, that she must have allowed her fear to overwhelm her common sense…"
"Valdis!" Draco emitted the name in a shrill cry. "I don't trust that savage werewolf! He is always so grim and cold. A grave has more warmth!"
A slap echoed and Draco raised a thin hand to a red cheek.
"You are a Malfoy, son!" snapped Lucius. "Act like one! If Valdis' words are not enough our Lord has reassured me personally that all that could have been done was done. Your mother simply lost her head and ran into the werewolf pack. Foolish woman. How could she forget the hunger of the werewolves?"
"Yes," whispered Draco hoarsely. "How could she have forgotten?"
Lucius sent his son a sharp look, distrust slipping into his eyes. "Drop the subject son. Voldemort-"
"My new father?"
An angry snarl met the contempt.
"Tom is a great man Draco! He can make you powerful! Do me proud son and forget your mother. Voldemort is not so forgiving as I am when his word is doubted."
A bitter, harsh look had appeared on the pointed features of his son and Draco Malfoy nodded. "I'll forget," he rasped. "It will be as it never was … dad."
Turning away Draco stalked out of the living room leaving a weeping man who couldn't quite summon the Malfoy reserve, because he understood at that moment that he had lost his most beloved son.
: Present :
Lucius gave his eldest one last aching hug before releasing him and moving over to the cradle that held his youngest child. Smiling lovingly the blond reached into the crib and hoisted up the baby, cooing gently.
Switching his gaze back to Draco he said, "Do you want to hold your brother Draco? Arthur has missed you."
Draco repressed a sigh. As much as he felt resentment towards his father these days, he still carried a shred of their love deep in his frozen heart so he could not completely break Lucius' heart. Forcing a semblance of loving elder brother onto his thin lips he inclined his head in respectful 'joy'.
It was worth the effort. The desperate hope in his father's face and eyes was replaced by pure, unbridled happiness. Elation rang in Lucius' voice as his father asked:
"So, son, how is Azkaban these days?"
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Lucius sighed in bliss as his husband crawled on top of him, balancing his weight on his hands above Lucius' head.
A tongue plundered his mouth seeking his warmth and taste. Lucius arched, gasping in pleasure as lips trailed down his body, mapping his contours, categorising his unique scent. Whimpering, he turned his head in an effort to return the favour.
The tempest withdrew, scarlet eyes boring deep into his soul. Thomas Riddle studied his flushed lover, smiling slightly, delighted with the utter want written over the pointed features.
However, tonight was not a night to make love, but a night to reclaim what was rightfully his – and to remind Lucius exactly to whom he belonged.
Seizing a nipple between his teeth, he nibbled on the sensitive morsel while his hand worked underneath Lucius' nightshirt, seeking Lucius' secret place. Finding it, he found the entrance already slick, oil coating the insides of the clinging channel. He growled in pleasure. This would not take long.
Shifting his attention to his husband's sweat coated chest, he rubbed his face against the damp cloth. A sudden strangled groan told him that Lucius was ready. Disregarding the cost of such a garment the Dark Prince gripped the hem, tearing with all his inhuman strength. Grey eyes widened in shock and alarm at his actions but the Prince pressed on.
Staring into the misty pools the Dark Prince shoved forward, pausing a moment to give Lucius time to adjust, then he began thrusting into the welcoming heat that engulfed his member completely.
Slowly but surely the tempo increased. It was a beat composed of plunging muscle, gliding skin and mingled gasps. Lucius closed his eyes but the burning flame that was his Master – his husband – was branded on the shut lids giving him no respite against the fiery demon that drew such a compliant tune from his frail body.
Groaning in delight at the almost brutish thrusts Lucius twisted, attempting to raise his body closer to the source of pleasure, but his husband pressed down with his hands, forcing him back onto the mattress. Body pinned, all Lucius could do was feebly writhe and begin to mewl with passion.
It was the mewling that undid Tom – as it always did. Alight with the love and jealously that partly formed the wicked brew of feelings he had for Lucius, he sank deep into Lucius' being and spent himself.
Emotions raw after such a powerful coupling Tom gathered the sweaty form of his mate to him and collapsed on the tangled bed sheets, burying his nose into the mussed silver-white hair shot through with gold. His dark hair fell over his cheek, brushing the smooth strands below as he breathed deeply.
"Mine," he gasped.
Lucius snuggled closer into the tight embrace and murmured happily in response, "Yes, yours. Mine?"
The Dark Prince smiled tiredly. "Yes, yours."
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A/N: Perhaps a bit sappy at the end but I felt that Lucius deserved some attention from his husband. Thank you for the review herk444!