Doormat
by: dangermouse
"Ama me fideliter!
Fidem meam noto:
De corde totaliter
Et ex mente tota,
Sum presentialiter
Absens in remota."
---Carmina Burana, "Omnia Sol Temperat"
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At first glance, the room was clean and pleasant. The antique furniture and fixtures were bathed in a warm flickering light streaming from the fireplace, their rich navy, maroon, and gold tones complimenting each other perfectly. Soft, comfortable couches and chairs were arranged in creative seating arrangements throughout the room, inviting the occupants to sit and participate conversations easily. It was the sort of room that a person could have walked into and felt welcome, as though it were there own sitting room in their own home, had it not been for the solitary figure standing in the darkest corner, shrouded in heavy, black robes.
The figure sucked all warmth out of the room by its presence alone. Shadows tucked themselves easily around the dark figure, finding it a comfortable place to gather. The deep maroons were now dried blood, the rich navy colors suddenly dark and oppressive. Beneath the many hoods and layers, a soft wheezing came from the figure, who leaned heavily on a twisted wooden cane, fashioned to look like a deadly serpent. Its cold, glittering ruby eyes peered through the pale, skeletal fingers that clutched it. An equal pair of eyes just as cold, only this time like dark obsidian, gleamed out from under the hood, staring impassively at the fire.
Without warning, the golden flames turned bright green, the air filling with smoke and a lightly sulfuric scent. The figure took a step forward, muttering a soft, Latin-sounding phrase under his breath. The smoke instantly cleared, revealing a second, heavily clothed figure standing before the fireplace, whisps of smoke clinging to the hem of the long robes. The newly arrived individual made a deep bow to the first before speaking.
"My great Dark Lord. It is an honor to be in your presence," came the smooth voice of the second from underneath thick robes, strands of golden hair clinging around the hood as the Death Eater straightened back up.
"Malfoy," replied Voldemort, his voice deep and rumbling. "It is about time you arrived. You have kept me waiting."
"My most sincere apologies, My Lord," said the Death Eater. "There were... issues that had to be dealt with. I did not want to raise suspicion."
"Your family, then?" Voldemort inquired a smirk in his voice. "I wonder if they are more trouble than they are worth." The Dark Lord took a step forward towards his guest, pushing his hood away from his face as he did so. His tight, pale skin glowed almost warmly in the light of the fire, his dark, bottomless eyes raking a hungry glance up and down the body of the Death Eater before him. Malfoy quirked a slight smile before answering.
"Perhaps, but they are a necessary to keep up appearances," came the easy reply. "They are puppets, easily controlled."
"You're son is growing quite quickly, in power and body," the Dark Lord said.
"He is yours, if you wish him to be," Malfoy replied with a careless shrug. "I know he will serve you well and make you happy. He is quite the obedient child, quite eager to please." Voldemort chuckled, resting his hands on his minion's shoulders.
"If he is anything like his parents, I believe that to be true." With one smooth movement, he pushed the hood away from his guest, taking in the calm, pale features and the shining, touchable hair. "Bring him with you, next time," he told his servant with a twisted smile. "I should like to get... aquatinted with him." Malfoy returned his smile.
"As you wish, my Lord."
"Is everything moving according to plan?" Voldemort finally asked, getting down the business. The Death Eater nodded.
"Everything is running smoothly, my Lord. Your followers are in position and awaiting your command. I've made certain that, over the years as I waited for your return, everyone we need would be in place." Malfoy gave the Dark Lord a slightly cynical smile. "It amazing how easy it is to manipulate the Ministry."
"Easy for you, perhaps. You've always been my favorite," Voldemort told his servant. He brushed strands of silky hair away from the face of his Death Eater, taking in what he considered to be a perfect visage. "So easily overlooked. Who knew such blackness existed in your soul?"
"It is an honor to serve you," replied the fair-skinned Malfoy. "I want for nothing more."
"You have always been quick of mind and steady of judgment," Voldemort said, nodding. "One cannot buy loyalty such as yours, even with promises of power and fame."
"You needn't buy my loyalty, my Lord," Malfoy said, looping delicate arms around the neck of the Dark Lord. "You have it and anything else you may want from me. You always will." Voldemort smiled, gazing deeply into his servant's eyes before leaning forward and taking full advantage of the willing body in front of him, the two kissing deeply. After a short eternity, the kiss ended and Voldemort gave the Death Eater an appraising look.
"Return to your home and wait for my signal," he told his follower, running his long bony fingers over delicate features. He cupped Malfoy's chin in his hand, giving one more, almost chaste kiss before stepping back and pulling his hood up.
"Yes, My Lord," Malfoy replied, bowing deeply before the Dark Lord, then turning back towards the fire. Voldemort nodded and started to turn away as his servant began to mutter a spell to return home. The fire once again turned green and the Death Eater made move to go forward, but paused at the voice of the Dark Lord.
"One more thing," Voldemort called over his shoulder. "Remind that husband of yours about the meeting tomorrow."
Narcissa Malfoy turned to look at her Dark Lord, her face glowing oddly in the unnatural light of the green fire. She gave him her best smile, her blue eyes twinkling with an inner light before nodding sharply and stepping into the flames, vanishing.
~~The End~~
A/N: *grins* Didn't see that one coming, did 'ya? *laughs* I get so tired of weak, pathetic, submissive Narcissa. She's a WITCH, for goodness sakes. Who says she can't be as powerful as her husband? Or even more so? ~_^ You go girl!
Translation of the Latin verse at the beginning:
"Love me faithfully!/See how I am faithful:/With all my heart/And all my soul/I am with you/Though I am far away."
And the title for this story comes from this quote:
"Feminism - I myself have never known what feminism is. I only know that people call me a feminist whenever I express sentiments that differentiate me from a doormat."
Rebecca West, The Clarion 1913