-Song Prompt 1-

State of Grace

'So you were never a saint
And I've loved in shades of wrong
We learn to live with the pain
Mosaic broken hearts'

"You knew what this was, Bellatrix. You knew who I was."

The voice of her master, the most feared and powerful wizard in the entirety of the world echoed around the room, seemingly hitting her from all angles as a dark-haired woman with sunken cheeks and dry, cracked lips pulled her knees to her chest and bowed her head into them.

'But I want more' She wanted to screech those words over and over, tear them from her throat again and again until it was a ragged gasp.

What hurt the most? He was undoubtedly right in what he had told her. She had known.

The Black Solstice Ball – circa 1951-

Their very first tryst was her parents' annual solstice ball. Where drinks had been carefully poured yet carelessly consumed. Where husbands' hands were placed precariously around the waists of their wives whose smiles were as fragile as the crystal cut glasses they sipped from.

Bellatrix Black was only three days away from becoming eighteen. She was beautiful and so incredibly bored.

"Darling, do look like you wish to be here, your parents would be most upset to find their festivities critiqued by their own daughter," Rodolphus murmured into her curls, the raven tresses tickling his cheek as she gazed up at her…fiancé.

The word tasted wrong. Sweet, yet bitter after the acknowledgement that he was her fiancé finally registered.

"Your future husband is quite correct, Bellatrix,"

Her gaze quickly diverted then as another voice abruptly caught her attention, the voice of her lord, her master.

"I did not know you were attending, my Lord." Bellatrix quickly bowed, and Rodolphus followed suit just after her.

"I was not aware that my social calendar was reviewed by you each evening, Miss Black."

For a brief moment, Bellatrix felt her breath catch in her throat and every muscle tense as if she were expecting some sort of curse to course through her body. She only exhaled when she saw the small smirk curving up on his lips as his eyes met hers before breaking to gaze downwards, eyes trailing up and down her form.

Was he admiring her?

Although Bellatrix tried to tell herself that the mere notion was ridiculous, and that the Dark Lord would never lower himself to such base, primal urges- it didn't stop a light flush of pink rising upon her cheeks. And as soon as Bellatrix could even conceive the idea that admiring her was exactly what he was doing… his eyes were once again fixed on hers.

"Rodolphus, I wonder if you might be so kind as to lend me your betrothed for a dance?" He asked, which was remarkably polite considering he could have just taken what he wanted. She wished he had taken what he wanted.

"Of course, my Lord." Rodolphus replied without faltering for a second. As far as he was concerned, his master could have asked him for his left kidney and he would not have hesitated. Lending him his soon-to-be wife for a few minutes? That was no difficult feat. "I must go speak to Malfoy about some business tomorrow night anyway."

Bellatrix didn't say a word as the Dark Lord led her towards the centre of the ballroom. There were already a few couples dancing. Partners, lovers, spouses… then there was them. As the Dark Lord's hand pressed against the small of her back, instinctively pulling her closer, the other trailed down her arm, the one that bore his mark, and as his fingers delicately ghosted along the familiar pattern, she couldn't help but gasp quietly as a warm pool of pleasure flooded through her veins.

Within a few moments, the two had settled into a familiar four-step that was simple enough for them to hold a conversation without falling out of step (which was bold considering Bellatrix didn't think she could breathe, let alone converse with him).

"He releases you too freely,"

Bellatrix glanced upwards at him. Even in her highest teetering heels, her master always seemed to tower above her.

"My Lord?" she managed to murmur. He didn't reply for a moment, and Bellatrix had just begun to question as to whether she had misheard another conversation and he hadn't actually spoken at all when he spoke again.

"Rodolphus, he releases you too freely." He paused for just a few moments. "If you were mine, I would not let you out of my sight all evening."

If Bellatrix could have melted into a puddle right then and there, she would've. However, one thing needed correcting.

"I am yours, Master." She murmured in response, and she thought she felt his grip on the small of her back tighten before a low chuckle rumbled through his chest.

"You are mine in many senses of the word, Bella." His thumb gently stroked between the crevice of her thumb and index finger. "But not in the same sense as Rodolphus."

But I want to be…

"I know," he answered idly, a small smile on his lips now. Bellatrix silently cursed herself for letting her guard down, allowing him free reign of her mind and thoughts. "Do not be so hard on yourself Bellatrix. I am your Master; you should always have your mind open to me." He twirled her for the sake of it before pulling her close again. "You think I do not see how you yearn for me? That I do not feel your legs tremble when I fix your posture during our training?" Bellatrix flushed again. If she had been pink before, she was positively scarlet now- and she was quite sure he was enjoying it. "Or even that you deliberately misposition yourself because you know I will touch you?"

She was mortified, fully and utterly. If it had not been him she would have broken away and rushed off. But the issue was that he was the only one who could affect her like this. She lusted after him more than she had ever lusted after anything.

"I do not mean to be insubordinate, my Lord. I will quell my… thoughts," she tried to excuse, her head bowing shamefully.

The next thing she knew, his fingers had trailed up the column of her throat, using the pads of his fingers to tilt her head upwards.

"Do not be sorry for how you feel, Bellatrix. Your weaknesses flatter me." He considered her for a moment, eyes searching hers before he glanced upwards and leant in, lips ghosting her ear. "Walk with me,"

It was a miracle she found her footing at all, and as he broke apart from her, she followed him out of the room where the party was being held, and as the door shut the sounds of the orchestra faded back into the distance. She had presumed they would go to the gardens. Despite the chill of the autumnal air beginning to settle in England, the room they had previously been dancing in was unbearably warm and she was grateful for the potential change in temperature.

But they took a left instead of a right, and she soon found herself in her father's study, the smell of worn mahogany and well-leafed through books permeating the air. It was a smell she had always loved, reminding her of countless hours spent researching in the family library, or hiding from her sisters between shelves during heated games of hide-and-seek. It smelt like childhood.

Although her master had not raised his wand, she heard the click of the lock on the door that ensured they would not be disturbed, and she felt her heart begin to race at being rendered alone with him here. It was like the two didn't belong together. Childhood…and a very stark contrast into her future merging together. Even in spite of her thoughts, it had not gone unnoticed that he was slowly walking over to her, though she didn't realise that she had been stepping back until she felt the edge of her father's desk bumping her thigh, just beneath her buttocks.

His hand reached out once she had been rendered between himself and the desk, teasing a stray curl that had come undone from its loose chignon bun. "You are so young, Bella." He murmured, almost thoughtfully. "Who would think that my bravest and most vicious soldier would be nothing more than a little girl."

She didn't like the way he said it, it felt like he was mocking her as her cheeks burned with embarrassment.

"I am not a little girl," she told him defiantly, defending her own honour as she straightened up.

He laughed softly then, not unkindly, but still definitely at her rather than with her.

"Not many would be able to say they have taken a life before being taken in bed," he remarked observantly, fingers still gently tugging and teasing the same curl he had been playing with, searching through her mind for a semblance of intimacy between Bellatrix and Rodolphus- not completely surprised to find nothing.

"Speaking from experience, Master?" Bellatrix snipped, almost immediately in complete disbelief she'd had the nerve to answer him back.

He smirked in response to that, his hand moving deftly from the tendril to the pale column of her throat, thumb pressed against her jugular and squeezing- not so much to cause pain as to threaten.

"Be careful, Bella."

A small pout formed on her full, darkened lips- and she let out a small sigh as he released his hold on her neck after just a few moments- though his thumb trailed across her collarbone, and she fought to catch her breath. He was still raking across her mind, taking everything in as memories flashed left, right and centre. Rodolphus' hands wandering, her eyes rolling back in frustration.

"I want to wait until marriage, Rodolphus. You know that."

"How proper of you, Miss Black. I had no idea you were so traditional." He grinned as she drowned in her own humiliation- none more so than when an image of what he was looking at next flashed through her mind.

Her room, the darkness only broken from the moonlight illuminating through the window. It was silent. No, nearly silent. Heavy, yet rapid breathing. Muffled.

Bellatrix sprawled out in her large four poster bed. The sheets giving away her position. Legs parted, the slight shifting of one hand so obviously between her legs- other hand pressed against her mouth as her hips jerked downwards and her eyes closed tightly.

"Oh…my Lord…"

"Stop!"

The sudden noise came out like a wounded deer bleating and crying out. Bellatrix had forced him out so fiercely that it had disoriented them both for a brief moment.

"Not so innocent after all,"

Bellatrix just wanted the ground to swallow her up. She was so embarrassed that the cruciatus curse wouldn't touch the suffering she was undertaking right then.

"I'm sorry, my Lord! I should never even think of you in such a way, I-" Her voice cracked and she fell silent as he pressed his index finger to her lips.

"I am flattered to be the object of your desires, Bellatrix." His thumb trailed against her full bottom lip, stained with a dark red lipstick that didn't smudge as he touched her. "And I am a most merciful Lord, am I not?"

She nodded blankly, a tight coil winding in her stomach.

"Good girl. Though… I cannot have my most loyal servant distracted by such carnal urges." He mused.

"M-my Lord?"

"Perhaps, Bellatrix." He considered a moment. "Perhaps giving you exactly what you want is the best option for us both. You keep your focus, and I keep my best soldier."

"Master…" She whispered. Lust and hunger evident in her smouldering gaze. She did not want to be forward, so was grateful when he leant in, his lips grazing against hers in a tentative and gentle kiss. Bellatrix had barely gotten to respond before she felt a painful tug to her hair, forcing her neck to snap back as she gasped.

"Understand, Bellatrix. This is not love, nor is it you fulfilling my needs." He tightened his hold even more and she whimpered. "You can live with that knowledge?"

"Yes Master," she whispered.

And that night, he had taken something from her that should have belonged to Rodolphus- and in every single way possible she was his.

The very same voice scoffed at the skeletal frame hunched over in the corner of the dark room.

"You will be better, LeStrange," he sneered, leaning over a visibly trembling Bellatrix in disgust. "Love has made you weak, it is disgusting." She would feel his foot impacting her side, swinging into her ribs with just enough force to hurt, but not injure her. She gasped, the air knocked out of her.

"I-I'm s-s-sorry, my Lord," Bellatrix wept. She did not cry out of physical pain, but the pain of disappointing him greater than anything else. Things had not been the same since Azkaban, and she couldn't help but mourn for what she had lost with him.

The laugh that responded to that very thought was cold and strained.

"You cannot lose what you never gained, Bellatrix. It was not love, it was a tactical manoeuvre to keep you focused. But you are useless. Even if I could reduce myself to such a pathetic human emotion… you would be the last person I looked at."

Bellatrix LeStrange had taken the cruciatus curse. She had endured countless beatings from him, survived fourteen years in Azkaban. But one sentence, a string of words collected together…

Broke her.