Chapter Thirty-six: Marler

Author's first note: Thanks again to Grunnarc the Loaf for helping with the action scenes. Sometimes, you remind me of Rose: a great housekeeper with a violent streak a mile long.

The Lord and his servant peered into the room, one of the many third floor rooms the servant had never been allowed to enter. Lucius looked in with great distaste, Rose with an equal amount of curiosity. It was enormous, cluttered, and very, very dusty, not at all what she'd expected for Draco's new dueling room.

"I expect it to be empty and spotless by the end of the day. Understood?" he ordered lightly.

"Yes, sir," she answered, not so certain that it would be possible, but determined to try.

"And, meals will be served on time, no excuses." Her eyes widened a bit as she looked up at his uncompromising face.

"Yes, sir," she repeated hoping that she sounded more certain than she felt.

He leaned in conspiratorially, his eyes cold and incalculable. "If you fail me, pet, I'll have no choice but to whip you like a common slave." The tiniest flicker of a smirk appeared at the side of his mouth, but his next words were hard. "Do you understand me?"

She almost smiled at the assurance of blood and sweat and pain tonight, sweet release from the tension of the past few days; Alex's renegotiation with Lucius, Death Eaters in and out of the house at all hours, secret glances from Severus, and Lucius pacing relentlessly when he wasn't otherwise occupied. She needed to scream, to writhe, to cry, and the ache to return to the dungeons and feel his whip on her skin had been growing steadily worse for some time, now. Her answer was resolute, a promise that she could never manage to keep, much to her keeper's delight - and hers.

She plunged right in when Lucius left, certain that she'd never finish it, knowing that she wasn't supposed to, but determined nevertheless to impress her employer with how far she'd come. The furniture would need to be reduced, but first it would have to be cleaned. Lucius wasn't about to allow anything this filthy to be stored away. With that in mind, she drew her wand and set to work.

Two hours later, her panicked cry tore through Malfoy manor.

When she ran out of air to fuel the shriek, she choked, scuffling back on all fours from the horror before her. An open grave yawned in the floor at the very back of the room, the casket was open as well and there lay within a familiar body... her own. The coffin closed with a sickening, damning sound and the woman inside began to scream.

Rose gasped a lungful of air and reached with a shaking hand to reclaim her wand, but withdrew with a whimper. She couldn't do it. It was too close to the grave. The woman within was scrambling, scratching at the wood, begging to be released, but Rose could only shiver with fear as she inhaled deeply, trying to regain some dominance over her instincts.

From somewhere above, a harsh shout was heard, and the vision seemed to implode, leaving only a rancid smell and oily black smoke in its wake. Rose raised her eyes to see Lucius standing over her, wand still raised, attention refocused on the cowering maid.

"Boggart," she managed to mutter. He raised an eyebrow, and her stomach turned. Mab, she must look like a complete idiot. A child could dispel a boggart. "Sorry."

"Buried alive in this disarray?" he joked.

She rose awkwardly to her feet, catching a stumble with a hand on his arm and refusing to look at the smirk on his handsome face. "That's funny, sir."

"Yet, you're not even smiling," he answered sulkily.

"Just... give me a minute. I don't do well with boggarts," she said shakily.

"So I surmised." He took a hard look around the room. "You'll never finish your task on time at this rate, you know. Do you really wish to invoke my wrath?" he asked coldly, the tiniest flicker of playfulness under the words.

She lowered her eyes to hide the excitement there. "No, my lord. I'll hurry."

"I suggest you do... and for Merlin's sake keep the noise down," he added lightly. "My son and I are trying to work." With that, he turned on his heel and left.

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The whipping was breathtaking, overwhelmingly painful, everything Rose needed it to be and more. Her master had tormented her for a long, long time before finally giving in to her cries for mercy. Even then, he withheld her pleasure until she begged for it, crying at his feet while he looked on with a cruel smile. There was no shame, though. She loved begging for him. It brought the most beautiful spark of pure lust to his eyes.

Now, though, her body was aching from the act. She'd need a restorative or two before Alex left on tonight's errand. And she'd need to hurry. Lucius was waking earlier and earlier from the sleeping draughts. It was more than a little disturbing, this steadily-increasing tolerance he was building. She'd have to ask Sev about it on Sunday.

For now, Rose made her way back to her rooms, raided her potion supply, and began to prepare. The information Lucius had given Alex about tonight's target was disturbing, but it was the picture that Malfoy had inserted into his profile that caused her stomach to knot. She knew him at first glance. It was the enormous man who'd grabbed Rose from behind at Malfoy's meeting, the one who'd suggested that they rape her... just to pass the time. According to Malfoy, Rose would have been one in an endless line of such women. Tonight he would pay, but she'd need to remember that this was business. Her desire to hurt him, really hurt him before she killed him could only make her careless and ultimately ineffective.

It took her very little time to change, pack, and disapparate.

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Marler's home was a heavily-warded mansion on the outskirts of Wiltshire. He lived alone since the untimely, and unexplained, demise of his father, but was rarely without female companionship of the unwilling muggle variety. Most of the house was closed off, leaving only the west wing to navigate. Alex skirted the front pillars, heading for the only lighted window on the second floor around the side.

She stopped at the window directly beneath it and drew a round piece of beveled glass from a pocket. Placing it on the window, she peered through and saw the room within as if it were illuminated by a full moon. It was empty. Good. She would enter there, but first...

The short climb to the second floor was simple, and made even easier by the ledge that ran directly beneath the second-floor windows. She chuckled darkly. It was almost as if the designer had spying in mind when he built the place. A subtle glance betrayed her target's location. Another, that his back was turned almost completely to the window. She stepped around the edge for a closer look, making certain to never make full eye contact with any part of him. Any decent wizard could sense a pair of eyes boring into him. He was tinkering with something on a worktable before him, completely absorbed in the task. The bulk of his body hid the object he worked with, but it seemed to have many metal and wood components, judging by the pile on the edge of the table.

Alex smiled as she climbed back down. The task should keep his attention focused enough to avoid sensing her presence in the house. That seemed to be a talent which was generally reserved for witches, most men lacked the sensitivity, but she'd come across the occasional wizard who had the gift.

Back on the ground, she used the tiny golden ball to absorb the energy from the wards around the frame, picked the conventional lock, and slipped inside. The library was extensive, but not as much so as the Malfoy collection. It was also rarely used, judging from the thick layer of dust on the shelves. Disgusting. Apparently, not even the maid came in here.

Once in the darkened hallway, she drew out the Hand of Glory and a handful of poison pellets. Her wand was left on her thigh. It was a last resort when dealing with wizards of Marler's caliber.

It was difficult to tell which way to go from there, but the corridor to the left felt correct, and she proceeded down the wide passage cautiously, admiring the artwork on the walls as she did so. Thankfully, the portraits were all sleeping, so none tried to converse with her or made any unnecessary noise as she proceeded. The next left turn was an even wider hall ending in a large, well-lighted circular room with a stairway. She put away the Hand and proceeded quickly, slowing only briefly to admire and assess the market value of two gorgeous dragon-like gargoyles crouching like sentinels on either side of the hallway. Promising herself that she'd return for them when she was finished (they were just too beautiful for any self-respecting thief to pass up), she slipped past them toward the stairs.

Her feet hadn't completely passed them when the breath was stolen from her lungs with the bloodcurdling scream that suddenly split the air.

Alex froze, then looked back in almost painful realization at the two gargoyles, obviously placed there as highly-decorative alarms. Their mouths were now split open revealing rows of vicious teeth. Thankfully, they didn't move, and the alarm stopped quickly, replaced by rapidly-moving, heavy footsteps above.

Damn.

The door to the left was locked.

The footsteps were on the stairs. She threw the poison pellets on the bottom step and dove for the door to the right which, thankfully, swung open. The room had two exits, one open door leading into another room and another closed door leading Merlin knew where. Alex bolted for the open door, squinting in the near blackness, and listening intently as the steps faltered for a moment. Damn. He'd obviously seen the pellets on the floor. A harsh spell, the same one Bellatrix Lestrange had used, blew the poison down the hallway and the footsteps continued on more quietly than before. The poison pellets probably gave away her identity. Every Death Eater had been schooled on her techniques after her first attack, so that they would know her before they saw her, and know what to expect. That was one of several advantages she'd lost in the past minute.

Damn the paranoia of Death Eaters!

"Come out, Madam Borgin. I want to play," the deep voice called into the blackness, stupidly pinpointing his location. Obviously not very gifted, this one, but she knew from personal experience that he was as strong as an ogre. Getting close to him was not an option.

Silently, she crept around the perimeter of the room toward the voice, drawing her dagger and looking for a clear shot. Merlin knew what kind of personal wards the man had raised when he heard the gargoyles. Briefly, she considered just leaving and trying again another day, then realized that she was lost in this place. She'd have to kill him or outrun him in unknown territory, and neither were very promising options at present.

The modest light was suddenly blocked as a hugely-muscled silhouette moved through the doorway and stopped, presenting a great target. She raised her dagger for a fatal throw as he raised his wand and spoke. The room suddenly lit up like midday, and she had to close her eyes against the sudden brightness. A petrifying spell followed immediately afterward and she rolled blindly to avoid it, dropping her knife in the process.

When she finally opened her eyes, she could just barely make out the exit a few feet away. A mad dash brought her to the opening before a spell of sheer force blasted her into the wall on the other side of the hall. She shook off the pain, feeling only the terror of the rapidly-closing figure moving swiftly toward her, and took off again, this time down the hall toward another open door at the end. Another spell and the floor beneath her feet shattered, bits of stone exploding into her face. The next step caught one of the jutting stones and she fell on the sharpened rock, tearing cloth and skin. A stabbing pain announced that a sliver of stone had penetrated her side.

She pulled herself to her feet, mentally checking for damage. It wasn't too bad, certainly not as bad as the looming Death Eater rapidly closing the distance between them. Her lunge for the open door at the end of the hall came a little too late, just as a another spell hit her from behind, and her body was hurled forward, reaching its goal quickly, but rather more roughly than she'd hoped. Her forward momentum was stopped by a table, spilling the objects it supported to the floor as she fell.

She coughed, sputtered, and heaved herself up onto hands and knees, reaching to her boot for her other knife, but he was on her in an instant. "Alexandria," he grunted, sending her back to the stone floor with a merciless kick to her side. She felt a crack, then a wave of nausea as he knelt on her still-twitching form, pinning her to the floor.

Her hand finally closed upon the weapon that it sought and she drew her secondary knife, an unfortunately untainted, but keenly sharpened blade. Her arm was pinned, but she managed a quick, shallow stab to the leg that was holding it in place. He jumped back a bit in shock, taking the knife with him, but it was just long enough for Alex to scramble away and grab the first thing her hand found. She couldn't believe her luck. It was another blade, a rapier, actually, apparently knocked to the floor when she crashed into the table.

She never stopped to consider what a muggle weapon was doing in the home of a muggle-hating Death Eater. She just scrambled to her feet and began slashing at him, noticing somewhere in the back of her mind that the room was filled with ancient muggle weaponry and torture devices and wondering how much some of the more obscure pieces were worth, while the rest of her brain tried like hell to get the feel of the ungainly sword and make some use of it. She sliced into his wand arm, but only barely. He actually laughed at the attempt.

Arrogant bastard.

She took another swipe, and he caught the swing with his wand, laughing even harder. "That's it, precious," he leered. "Make me work for it."

Her temper flared. She tossed aside the rapier and snatched up a short staff, cracking him hard across the face. When he turned back to her, a thick line of blood flowed from his temple, and he was no longer smiling.

A vicious, back-handed blow sent her staggering into the table again, but she struggled to keep her feet and raise the staff for another blow. This time, he wasn't giving her the chance, striking her again and again, huge fists slamming into her face and head and body, a succession of blows that came so rapidly she had no time to fall. When he finally relented, she crumpled to the floor like a rag doll, her will to fight rapidly fading.

"You stupid little whore," he spat. "Do you have any idea how much your head is worth to our Lord?" Another kick, this time to the face, sent her mind reeling. "But, I'm sure the Master won't mind if I reward you for your bad manners." His face was inches from hers as he straddled her, running his tongue sloppily over the side of her face that wasn't pressed to the floor. "If you scream for me, little one, I might make it quick."

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Author's second note: Alright, everybody except Lady Jenilyn, mary, and Quietude, I suggest that you become one with the cliff, because I am leaving you hanging there until your fingertips turn blue! (Can they do that?) Three reviews!??! Geez!!! Was the chapter that crappy? I've never felt so dumped in all my life. What did I do? Did I offend? Did I misspell? Did I misuse my commas? I mean, where the heck IS everybody?

Hellllooooo ooouuuttt tthhheerrree!!!!!

Okay. No more ranting.

Lady Jenilyn: Thank you for reviewing, you dear soul. I appreciated the detail. It really helps me to know what to write and what to pitch. I thought that it would be best to clarify Severus' position, not only for the reader's sake, but also for Alex's. He wouldn't want to mislead her, not when his only chance of having her is an understanding between all three of them. I fear that Draco has not seen the end of his trauma. With his life, it would be difficult to. Your suggestion about a crossover is something I hadn't considered. It's interesting, but I'm not the girl to write it. I just don't have the balls to do something that big. Thanks for saying that you think I'm a good writer. I'm very insecure about this venture, and I'll take all the emotional handouts I can get, especially after the mediocre response for the last chapter. I'm forced to assume that most of my reviewers thought it sucked wastewater. Tell me honestly, did it? I'm sorry that that naughty author stole your idea and published it. How dare she?! I'm not overly-concerned, though. With your imagination, another idea will blossom in its place. I have great faith in you.

Quietude: Good to hear from you, and thanks for the review. It's good to know that you understand about Snape and his loyalties. I've always seen him as a soldier with a foot in both camps, just waiting for his chance to tip the scale in the direction that most favors him. Thanks for your compliment on the dialog. It's my favorite part of the process, so I find it very rewarding when someone enjoys reading it as much as I enjoy writing it. I'm going somewhere with Rose's growing addiction to Lucius and his particular tastes, and you're right. It can't be good, but that's as much as I'll say. It was so cute the way you predicted that something bad is going to happen. Now, what makes you think I would do something to wreck all this peace and quiet? (Laughs quietly as she turns away) By the way, I hope to see you around when I do start on my next story. If you like Severus, I think you'll at least find it tolerable.

mary: Thanks for the review. Are you asking for another love scene between Lucius and Rose? I was getting the impression that I was making my dear readers uncomfortable with all the steam. But, hey. I love writing them, and I have a few unfilled spaces in the outline. I'm sorry that Sev has to share his woman right now, but it's for her own safety. It is kind of cruel to make him watch Lucius give Rose The Look, knowing what he's been doing with her, and having to smile in his face as he revels in it. Sometimes, I hate myself for treating Sev that way.