Author's Note: I read on Harry Potter Wiki that the prisoners of Azkaban had their card numbers tattooed into their necks, so I just had to do something with that in this chapter.
Additional Author's Note: This chapter has been slightly edited from its original version based on a review that I received; but it is only a minor change, and the change occurs towards the end.
Lucius didn't really want to take a bath, but he also didn't want to smell worse than he had in Azkaban. Besides, the least that he could do for his wife was to smell decent, especially after he had made such a disaster out of her life. Narcissa was constantly living in fear for herself and for her family, and it was all Lucius's fault.
Really, taking a bath was the least that he could do for her.
But Lucius really hated getting naked. He hated looking at his skin.
Lucius caught sight of his reflection in the mirror. Unlike Narcissa, he did not bother with keeping a perfect appearance. His long hair was unkempt and had lost most of its luster. His face looked rough and exhausted. His eyes reflected his constant terror for himself and for his family. His eyes reflected just how broken and defeated he felt. Overall, he looked as if he had aged several years in a very short period of time.
The Dark Lord found a lot of amusement in Lucius's less-than-perfect appearance. The Dark Lord thought that Lucius was truly accepting his punishment for being such a failure and a disappointment.
But what the Dark Lord didn't know was that this was really Lucius's way of rebelling. The Malfoy patriarch no longer had many ways in which he could rebel, but the least he could do was no longer care about how he looked on the outside. He was tired of trying to look perfect on the outside, especially considering that he had never felt perfect in the inside.
At long last, his outer appearance was reflecting what he truly felt in his inside.
But Lucius still didn't like his skin. The way that his skin looked had nothing to do with rebellion. It had everything to do with accepting and with being a proper Pureblood.
Lucius looked at the Dark Mark on his left arm. For Bellatrix, it was a badge of pride. But for Lucius, it was a mark of slavery.
It was a mark that showed that Lucius belonged to someone else beside himself. It was a mark that showed that Lucius was not his own master and that his life was not his own.
Lucius had always known this, of course. He had always known that he didn't truly matter to the Dark Lord, and that he was nothing more than a piece of property that was kept around for as long as he remained valuable and useful in some way.
Lucius had never been as foolish as most of the other Death Eaters.
But until now, Lucius had not really cared. He had just accepted it. He had just accepted that he was nothing more than someone else's property.
All that Lucius had cared about was preserving the Pureblood population, the Pureblood population which was constantly decreasing. He had been willing to accept that he was nothing more than the Dark Lord's slave, just as long as his kind continued to thrive.
Everything had changed, though, when the Dark Lord had "liberated" Lucius from Azkaban.
Upon arriving back at Malfoy Manor, it had not taken long before Lucius had seen the Dark Mark on Draco's left arm.
Lucius had never wanted his son to be someone else's property, to be someone else's slave. Lucius had wanted his son to have a life that was his own.
It was becoming harder and harder for Lucius to accept the Dark Mark. He could accept it on himself, but he couldn't accept it on Draco. He wanted a better life for Draco than a life of slavery.
Lucius was just grateful that Narcissa had never been Marked. He was glad that she was still pure and untainted. He was glad that her skin was still perfect.
Lucius's eyes drifted away from his Mark. He then found himself looking once again at his reflection in the mirror.
And once again, he saw it. He saw the numbers that had been tattooed on his neck after he had been sentenced to Azkaban.
Another mark on his skin. Another mark that showed that he was someone else's property and that his life was not his own. Another mark of all his failures in life.
Azkaban may have had literal bars, but Lucius now realized that he had always been living in a cage, with heavy chains weighing down his arms. He had always been living for someone else besides himself.
He now realized that he did not know what freedom meant.
Bellatrix was proud of both her Dark Mark and her numbers on her neck because both of those marks showed her loyalty and her devotion to the Dark Lord. The marks showed the honor that she felt for being willing to sacrifice herself and to suffer for the Dark Lord.
But for Lucius, there was no honor in being loyal and devoted to the Dark Lord. There was no honor in being marked in any way.
Once again, Lucius found himself thinking about Draco. Would Draco one day be marked as a prisoner of Azkaban as he had been? Or would Draco end up dead? Lucius couldn't decide which fate would be worse for his son. He could only hope that Draco would survive all this, without having to be marked again. But most of the time, it was hard to have much hope, especially in regards to Draco's well-being.
Lucius had to look away from his reflection. He just wanted to have clean skin for once. He just wanted to belong to himself for once.
But that would never be possible. The marks would never go away. The marks would be forever tattooed into his skin.
Even if Lucius was to somehow regain the Dark Lord's favor, he would never be truly free. No matter what, he would always be someone else's property.
His marked skin would always reflect that.