Hope you all had a nice Christmas, please review and enjoy!
I only want sympathy in the form of you crawling into bed with me.
Dance Dance.
Fallout Boy.
"I'll be home at tea" her husband bent at the waist to kiss her and then lower to touch baby Draco's crown with his lips.
"What would you like to eat?" She covered her mouth to stifle a yawn as she nursed the child in her arms.
"I can see to that on my own," he laughed gently, "I want to see you here, nice and awake. No unnecessary activity - you are tired."
"I am," she moved to the window and to where the baby's basin was, "Still, I should make some effort to be presentable for my husband, don't you think?"
She lay the flaxen haired infant down and was hard pressed to remember the last time in the few weeks he had been on the earth that he had slept more than an hour. She sighed gently, motherhood was playing havoc with her health and she had yet to recover from the tremendously hard labour she had endured. She prayed hard that he might find the wonders of long sleep and bask in it any time soon.
"Well," Lucius turned to kiss the side of her head, "I shall see you later?"
"Yes," she yawned again as she made her way to the bed and lay down, "I will see you, have a pleasant Lunch with your associates."
"I highly doubt it," he raised his eye brow, smiled then turned on the spot and disappeared.
She was grateful for the quiet of the cool house, of basking in the freshness of the chamber which she had barely left since Draco had come into the world when she flung open all the sashes and let the air in. She was exhausted and all she wanted was to lie down and sleep for hours. But she decided -after lying and not finding sleep for over an hour- that she would lie in the bath for a long while then dress up and try and make herself feel awake.
She ran the bath, warm and bubbly and languished in it, ears now continuously listening for a murmur or cry of an infant. She liked the cry of him, just to remind her of how much she loved him and how this little vessel was hers to fill with everything. Or sometimes, she was suddenly so aware, to ruin.
She smiled to herself and getting out of the bath, took time luxuriating in the routines she had become lax of in the last few weeks. Creams and lotions and the usual potions which she employed she relished in, and enjoyed the feel of the glamorous clothes which she hadn't worn against her skin.
Just as she finished, as if on cue Draco set up a wakening wail from where he lay, his tiny arms flailing and waving as his little face reddened.
"Oh," she scooped him up with fluidity, "Oh, my little darling, hush."
The child calmed, but clicking her fingers she sent the elf to warm the milk and feed him anyway, for he was due to eat.
"Hello, Draco," she nursed him softly, "Good afternoon."
She sat herself down on the rocking chair and began feeding him from the silver lidded bottle Lucius had as a child. The Malfoy's even Lucius, insisted on this type of tradition. She decided she should like to walk in the gardens with her son in the perambulator Lucius had bought in Diagon Alley that was still new for she had been so tired of late she hadn't energy to go outside for a walk never mind with the new baby. But today, she decided as she carried him down stairs and ordered the elf to fetch her cloak and the perambulator, she would.
Setting the child and wrapping him up, she found herself rather excited that she was about to do this. The Autumn sun was shining and the leaves had gathered in the basin of the huge fountain, so the water was coated with a sheet of bright orange and brown as she walked past, kicking the leaves at her feet as she went. The air was crisp and just right to feel fresh in, just enough to want to walk for hours and so, that was exactly what she did.
By the time she began skirting the edges of the grounds and walking back to the manor, darkness was encroaching on the light and she was hugely aware of what night brought with it - the prolonged absence of Lucius. She sighed slightly to herself and looked down at the sleeping child, who was so frighteningly like his father she often wondered if she had had any part in his creation at all. And then she was crudely reminded of the labour she had endured three months before and was very aware of how she had been part of him. She smiled comfortingly to herself and leaving the perambulator at the foot of the porch for the elves, lifted Draco out and closed the door behind her. An elf greeted her at the foot of the stairs.
"Mistress," the elf's voice seemed copiously nervous, "There is being a visitor."
"A visitor?" Narcissa looked at the elf with contempt.
"Yes Madame! He be in the Drawing Room."
"I see," she handed Draco to the Elf and sweeping up her skirts, and hastening in curiosity made her way to the Drawing Room.
The sight that welcomed her was, oddly enough not unexpected. She had assumed that this would eventually come but she had no idea how swiftly, or indeed how abruptly.
"So," Abraxas stood up as she entered the room, her heart thudding as she closed the door behind her, "I finally meet my daughter-in-law."
"Indeed," she brushed down the front of her robes and stood erectly poised before him, "Can I offer you anything? A drink perhaps. Something to eat?"
"No Thank you," he waved his hand and moved to rest on the mantle, staring at the pictures. She found herself watching how similar his son was to him, how they moved with that same arrogant fluidity and how their bodies were austere and regal but languid all at the same time. She found herself wondering if Draco would be so symmetrical with Lucius' characteristics. If he would hold his hands the same way, if he would sneer with that utter contempt.
"Well," her uncomfortable feeling was rising and his silence was irking her, "How can I be of assistance to you?"
"Do you continually speak like that?" Abraxas looked at her with condescending eyes and she could not help but feel he was mocking her.
"I beg your pardon?" She found herself snapping at him, then realised she must reign in her temper for Lucius was not here to defend her against what she knew only as evil, as an animal.
"You are entirely formal," Abraxas merely shrugged and smiled nastily, "I imagine Lucius likes that, though. Where is he?"
"He has business," she answered shortly, still keeping well at a distance and near the door. She felt she were facing a Dragon, from which unless she was on her up most guard there was no escape.
"I see," Abraxas answered, "I shall stay until he returns, of course I might have had the manners to ask you if that is alright?"
"I doubt he will be any long-" but already, her words were swallowed with shouts of her husband heralding his return. He always shouted when he came home, usually so she would greet him,
"Narcissa! Darling?" she could hear him coming nearer the door and dreaded what was to happen next " In here, Lucius," she found herself weakly replying. He came through the door a moment later and smiled at her, kissing her softly on the nose.
"How are you to-"
"Lucius," his father wasted no time and Lucius seemed not to react to his presence, merely to stare at the person before him that had addressed him. She could see in his eyes anger but not the light of it inflaming, it was simply abated by a blank stare.
"Hello, Father," he nodded his head strangely, "I assume you are here to see my son."
"Indeed," Abraxas smiled and Narcissa found herself momentarily dumbfounded, why hadn't he shouted? Why wasn't he angry like she had expected. Then it suddenly occurred to her that he simply might not care.
"Narcissa, darling," he reached out and touched her arm, all the while his eyes boring into the lined face of his father, "Fetch Draco, will you?"
"Yes," she nodded her head and left the room swiftly, her skirts sweeping behind her.
She returned with the baby a few minutes later, settled in her arms. The room was still tensely silent, though now Lucius had asserted himself by removing his cloak and making his way to the window. He turned and opened his arms to take the child when she neared him.
"Good afternoon, Draco," he addressed his son and then his Father, "Father, this is your Grandson. My Heir."
"I see," Abraxas looked on the boy with feigned interest, though this was only a formality anyway, "He is very small."
Narcissa took that as an insult and she knew Lucius would too; she seen the not-so-discreet vein on his neck throb as he offered up his child for scrutiny.
"He looks like you when you were born," Abraxas commented, "You were scrawny too, I never thought you'd amount too much."
"And did I?" Lucius question through gritted teeth, turning to her and silently handing back the baby.
"I don't know," Abraxas shrugged, "Your Mother commandeered you, I never seen you."
"Is there anything I can do for you, Father?" Lucius questioned, making his way to the door, "Otherwise, I have business to attend to, as does my wife. We are busy."
"And what a charming wife you have, Lucius," Abraxas nodded at her, and laughed "Nice and compliant I wager? Eh?"
"I shall see you soon Father," Lucius held open the Drawing Room door for his own Father, "Goodbye."
"Yes, goodbye."
Abraxas left with a shadow of tension behind him and when Lucius slammed the door unceremoniously behind, the room was filled with an awful silence.
"I best return Draco to the nursery," she bustled to the door.
"Narcissa," he stopped her in her tracks by stilling her as she went. She turned to him and looked expectantly. He simply reached out and touched her cheek gently. She smiled for she knew he would not lose his temper with her. She came back soon and there was nothing but note, telling her he would be home tomorrow. She resisted tears and retired for the night to that torturous chamber.
That night she watched him creep into the room, heralded by the squeaking of the door. She wondered if he didn't fix that just so he could wake her, so she would wake and sit with him until his tiredness overrode his conscience. She wanted to be angry t him but she lacked the energy.
"Hello," she sat up and watched him removing his boots.
"Go back to sleep, Bliss."
"Bliss?" She raised an eye brow and laughed slightly, "In this state?"
"Is that not what you are?"
"No!" She giggled slightly and lay back down.
"I am going to bathe," he said from somewhere in the darkness.
"Lucius, sleep…"
"Later," she heard him close the door behind himself. Dragging her own body out of bed, she realised that the room was cold - the fire must have died hours ago. She followed him into the bathroom. He was standing, in all his glorious nudity at the mirror, running his hands over a fresh laceration on his stomach. He was slumped over, his body bruised.
"Darling," she tried hard not to sound too shocked by his physical state. He looked at her reflection in the mirror and smiled.
"Nothing 'Essence of Dittany' wont solve," he said softly, moving to the bath and turning off the taps with a flick of his wand. It had filled up, deep and bubbly and warm.
"Join me?" he smiled a lopsided grin, which was almost too shy to be Lucius Malfoy as he motioned to the bath where he had settled in the steamy water.
She grinned, then walked towards him slipping down the straps of her nightgown as she went.
"It has been a while," she let her night gown drop to the marble floor.
"It has, hasn't it?" He smiled gallantly, as he did often and offering his hand, assisted her in climbing the steps to the bath.
"Hmm," she settled into his lap in the water, her arms tangling round his neck and in his damp hair. She kissed his mouth, then settled her head in the crook of his neck. She decided that this was the best of it, that this was the only way she could have him. His service to the cause was more now and she had taken a seat in the shadows.
"You have lost weight quickly, Narcissa?" He squeezed her already flat stomach.
"Indeed," she kissed the side of his neck, "Oh but aren't you glad of that?"
"Of course!" He laughed slightly, "But only if is natural. You haven't been eating."
"Oh, stop! You will ruin this evening. And anyway, I haven't been hungry!"
"You are very gorgeous, still" he kissed her cheek, "You are stunning, beautiful."
"I know," she looked at herself in the opposite mirror, "We make a fine pair, don't we? You know, I wonder how you felt earlier on with your Father…" She looked for a reaction, his face was blank.
"Don't you want to speak?"
"Hmm," he pulled her to him, so she was forced to lie flush against his body as he sunk them both into the water and kissed her.
"That's a 'no'," he answered, in between kisses.
Later as they lay in bed he held her in an entanglement if the silk sheets. The only light cam from the fire, the only sound his calm breathing.
"I m sorry I left," he rubbed her stomach gently.
"It matters not," she looked at him in the darkness.
"Don't lie," he said sternly, "I had to go but I wanted to speak to you."
"It's what is needed Lucius," she was tired of telling herself this, "It doesn't matter."
"I don't want to anymore but…" he kissed her neck, "I have no cho -"
"You don't have to explain yourself," she interrupted stiffly, "I have heard this. It doesn't stop me wanting you to be at home, it doesn't stop me hating how this takes you away."
"I know," he suddenly tightened his grip on her, "But you are stuck with me, promise you won-"
"Don't even suggest such a thing," she felt indiscernibly attached to him, part of him, trapped in this with him, "I would never go."
"I know," his tone suddenly changed to that of bravado, "I was silly to think it. You have everything you want here."
"This isn't what I want," she turned away from him, "But it is what has to happen."
"Narcissa," he sounded pained as if her words had wounded him. She felt a surge of glee that they had then utter contempt for what she had made him feel, "I love you."
She couldn't say anything, she wanted it all to disappear and for them both to never wake up. The loneliness in his absence was too much and how lonely her days were. She felt the tears, hot and angry and tried to fight them - it was no use.
"Don't cry," he muttered. But she couldn't help herself.
Yours,
M
Xx