Part Fourteen: The Wife's Place

"It's not that I'm opposed to what your suggesting, in fact it fits with your whole "I am Lord Voldemort and this is my new regime thing', but I am no duellist. I would be cut down by any Auror!" Elizabeth spoke animatedly as she paced the master bedroom, his robes still on her body and trailing behind her.

For some reason she had developed a liking for his wardrobe and he himself did not mind sharing a boudoir with her. Like the ring on her finger, having her dressed in his clothes was another subtle sign of ownership, and it appealed to him.

"Even the test that you're suggesting, this 'match' between me and Bellatrix, she'd murder me in moments." Elizabeth laughed again and turned to face him, placing her hands firmly on her hips. "What could I possibly protect you from?"

Voldemort smiled up at her and motioned with both of his hands for her to come to him. She obeyed and he took her hand as she settled onto his lap. He ran his fingers through her hair, noting the increase in white streaks.

"You defeated the best of my Death Eaters at a dinner table without using your wand once." He said softly, curling the end of one long lock of hair around his fingers affectionately. "And it got me to thinking about what would happen if my lieutenants – or even I – were disarmed in battle?" He gestured with one hand to himself and Elizabeth reached out to stroke first his hand, and then to place his hand over his heart, her hand over his.

"Do you want me to be back up?" She asked, genuinely curious. Usually she asked him questions when she already knew the answer or had a general idea of the answer, but her face now was all honest inquiry. He kissed her cheek softly. The healthy warmth had returned to it.

"You're trained. You can handle yourself without magic, and while I deplore those without the use of magic, your ability to become victorious in battle without magic, despite having it, makes me see a great weakness amongst my Death Eaters and subsequently a great strength in you."

"I don't train anymore. That was in my youth. My reactions now, are more like reflexes, it's like riding a broom, you never really forget. But I am far from as limber as I once was." As Elizabeth spoke she shook her head, as if already denying him his ventured request.

"Limber." He said stopping her, rolling the word on his tongue. "I think you are quite limber." He raised an eyebrow at her and she swatted his chest playfully.

She got out of his lap and stood before him. She placed her feet apart, held out her arms parallel to the floor with her palms flexed at a ninety-degree angle at the wrist and then seemed to let her feet fall out from under herself as she hit the floor, her legs shot out in either direction from her torso. She twisted from side to side, facing forward, and then favouring each hip. She winced slightly and looked up to the left as she did this, as if evaluating her flexibility and finding it less than to her liking.

"As I said, you seem limber enough to me." Voldemort said, watching her as she struggled against the natural resistance of her joints.

Elizabeth's father had insisted she be educated in the war tactics of the East and she had done well as young girl and gone on to perform at several notable occasions as an adolescent, but she had retired after early adulthood. In fact she had only been teaching locals in the village where he'd met her at the time he had discovered her.

"I guess I could get myself back into decent enough shape. I'd never fly around the floor like I used to, but I could still get myself back into well enough shape to tie on a sash again." She leaned forward; her legs still extended out at either side of her and placed her elbows on the floor, her chin in her palms. "If I trained, I could probably keep one or two wizards off of you for a few moments." She wiggled the toes on her feet as she spoke and he smiled down at her.

"So you want me to fight Bella, defeat her, and this will prove to your followers the importance of my place next to you, but also give me a place in battle – something they will actually respect – and defeat her without a wand?"

Voldemort nodded at her summary. "I think it should be done after the wedding, perhaps as part of the celebration. Everyone loves a good duel." He said as the thought came to him.

"You would put me in danger on our wedding night?" Elizabeth teased.

Voldemort leaned forward, propping his elbows on his knees as he leaned down to speak to Elizabeth. "You and I both know, that if I throw you and Bella into a pit, it's Bella that need worry about being in danger on our wedding night." He reached out and tagged the tip of her nose with his finger and she giggled, resuming a more normal sitting position. He enjoyed offering this affectionate gesture and she always seemed to receive it happily.

"Ok. It makes sense." She said plainly. She stood up and dusted off her bottom. "Your very clever, Tom."

"I know." Voldemort said as he sat back in his chair. "Now, do you think we could find a use for your contortionist skills in bed?" He asked, grinning. Elizabeth smiled and shrugged before falling backwards onto the bed and motioning for him to follow.