The sweaty odour that now permeated the underground chamber made her nose
wrinkle. Her limbs felt weak and shivery, an after-effect of Voldemort's
curse. She was now curled up in the foetal position, he face turned away
from her captor, who was pacing around her with an oddly satisfied look.
Malfoy, who was enjoying the whole experience, threw his gaze over the girl. He felt no guilt but pleased that he had got what he wanted. Rowan was looking a little less sleek than before, but that could hardly be helped. What did surprise him was her apparent lack of enjoyment, Lucius knew that he had been somewhat forceful, but she had made no attempt to protest, in fact she had said nothing.
He decided to voice his concerns. "Are you all right?" He asked ever so stiffly.
There was no response from Rowan.
Lucius strode over to the figure, his footsteps echoing around the sealed stone. He approached her from behind, kneeling down so that they were on a level. He half nestled his head into her hair and neck, placing his right hand upon her shoulder.
"Why so quiet?" He asked softly, stroking his left index finger on her neck. He felt a shiver ripple down her spine.
"Don't" She whispered feeling her throat sticking uncomfortably.
"Mmmm?" He queried gently.
"Don't start being nice to me." She said, more firmly. "You don't have to."
Lucius, who, it was fair to say, was a little taken aback by her comment, said nothing. Although his finger still stroked rhythmically.
Rowan, who had been keeping her take on the day's events silent, soon felt the urge to voice it.
"This hasn't got anything to do with me. Has it, Lucius?" She shifted her body, sitting up for the first time. Her muscles felt weak and unused. However her eyes had become adjusted to the orange glow but she was keen to find out more about her surroundings. How many people could say they had seen inside a tomb while still alive?
Looking around the chamber she took in all there was to see. The smooth stone panels, the orange glow and even the stone like block where their deed had been committed. Her darkened eyes rested there for a moment, replaying a scene from hours before. She felt a sharp shot of pain and realised with a start that she had bit her lip.
Trying to discard the coppery taste enveloping her mouth, she turned her gaze to the rest of the vault. There was little there, just stone and stone and more stone. This stone was harsh and unlike any she could remember. It might have been the dull lighting but there was something wrong.
If her idea of being in a vault was correct, then there seemed to be a distinct lack of evidence. Sure there was the sickening smell of decay but ironically a vital part of the vault was missing. There were no bodies.
Rowan looked around again, a frown forming upon her brow. Lucius looked uncharacteristically uneasy, checking his silver pocket watch and pacing around like a caged animal. She looked past him to the wall; here she saw a crest carved into the stone. Her eyes narrowed, she became curious, swinging her legs around and slipping off the block.
She slinked over in Lucius' direction, brushing past him slightly until she reached the correct wall. Bending in closer she saw all she needed to see. It was a simple thing; two identical serpents wrapped together, their heads facing in different directions. It was the Malfoy's crest.
Huh, she thought sourly, a derisive smirk forming on her lips.
"What?" Lucius asked self-consciously, turning to look at her quickly. She just shook her head, feeling a small laugh forming. Lucius asked the question again.
"I thought you'd put me somewhere else, that's all. I didn't realise we were in your basement!" He heard her giggle childishly. However she did not stop there. "You want to be careful, your wife might hear you." She turned around slyly, an urge for revenge overpowering her. "How is Narcissa these days?"
Rowan leaned back against the cool wall, enjoying the effect. She looked up at the strong-shouldered man who seemed to be holding his tongue. "Always the way, eh, Lucius. Never satisfied are you?" He lifted his chin slightly, looking down his nose at the girl who was still smirking.
"It's all about you and your power games." She said, smoothing her hands through her hair, trying to undo some of Lucius' handiwork. "I know all about you Mr. Malfoy." She raised her right eyebrow. "All about you and my Mother." He did not flinch. "How you pursued her relentlessly, how you never left her alone and how she chose my Father over you."
Rowan's eyes hardened, she went on with even more conviction. "You could not have my Mother, so you have me." Lucius took a slow breath, the mention of Rowan's Mother biting at his spine. He noticed the way her eyes never left his own. Yet he said nothing.
"You despised my Father, and all because my Mother wanted him. Lucius Malfoy just can't stand being rejected." She looked waspishly up at him, her confidence growing. Rowan did not notice the light dying behind his silver eyes.
"You know nothing about me." He snapped acidly, showing emotion for the first time.
"I know more than you would like." She teased him cruelly moving off the wall and getting closer. "You're too late." She noticed the way a muscle in his cheek twitched as she spoke.
"What do you mean?" He asked quickly, swallowing hard.
Rowan's face lost some of its malice. "She's dead."
Lucius blinked, "Dead?"
Rowan nodded, silently clamping her jaws together to block out any stray waves of grief.
"When did this happen?" He asked solidly, not really wanting an answer.
"A while back. Long after you left, if that's what you're wondering." She had dropped her eyes and moved back from the man, turning her body from him. The talk of the past unsettled her, though she had the feeling Lucius wouldn't push it.
He cleared his throat. "I, well, I'm.."
"You're sorry?" She asked sarcastically, forgetting her head. "Whatever for? You have it all; your wife, your son, Voldemort, me." She finished duly, her hair falling in front of her eyes for a moment. She looked up defiantly. "What were you planning to do, send an owl to my parents describing what you were doing to me?" She could not help releasing some of the anger pent up over time.
Her words were partially ignored by Lucius. He was too wrapped up in understanding how he missed the fact her mother was dead. They did, however, remind him of the owl that Rowan would have to write later on. He turned as well, casting his eyes around for his bag containing parchment, quills and ink.
He busied himself in setting them up on the stone block, which was at the right height for someone to kneel at. Lucius could not let the news of her Mother's death cloud his mind, he had to get this done as quickly and as correctly as possible.
"Here." He said briskly, moving his head towards her. "You've got to write a letter." Sensing that Rowan was about to interrupt, "Before you say anything, it's to Draco." He raised himself back up and moved stealthily over to her, placing his hands onto her shoulders and whispering tenderly into her ear. "Do it for your master, my red one."
Immediately she jolted away from him, her body going rigid. "Just do it." He ordered heartlessly. He pushed her, his hand between her shoulder blades, onto the floor. "Tell him that you're going to be away for a bit, that your sorry and that you miss him terribly."
"How about the fact his Father just slept with me." She said dryly, the pain in her knees making her eyes water.
"Tut tut tut." Lucius said sarcastically. "So you did enjoy it. Well now, Rowan, if only you had let me known earlier." He smirked. "Yet I do believe my dearest son would be a little alarmed if he knew. Perhaps we should save the father/son times if you two get married."
She blinked through the tears, wondering if he had heard him right. "Excuse me?" She asked blankly.
"Oh you heard me right. He won't mind then." He smiled politely.
"No, Lucius, if we get married? I'm sorry but where did that come from?" Her pain was forgotten all Rowan cared about was getting the truth from him.
"Draco's marriage. You did not know? It has been arranged for years!"
"No!" Rowan wheezed, any power draining from her.
"Well Draco needs a pureblood, someone to produce some decent heirs. It seems you two have already had a head start." He chuckled to himself. "Get on with the letter girl, I haven't got all day."
Rowan, who did not know quite whether to jump up and down in wild frustration or to sob silently, faced the block. For all she knew, Malfoy could be bluffing, in fact she was pretty sure of it. If the man had no clue that her Mother was dead then any knowledge of arranged marriages seemed a little unreliable.
In front of her was a smooth parchment sheet, an inkpot stained black with slippery contents and a noble eagle-feather quill. She recognised it as being like the one Potter had, how odd that two wizards poles apart in beliefs could pick the same stationary.
Flipping the lid from the pot, she dipped the quill into the pot, tapped of the excess ink and began to write scratchily onto the parchment.
Dear Draco, I am sorry if you could not find me today. I am afraid I have been called away on some urgent business. You will have some idea of which I speak but must understand that I cannot go into details for risk of Ministry interception. Anyway, I am unaware as to how long I will be absent. It might only be for a short while, say another day or two or, as I deeply fear, longer.
If anyone asks and I mean anyone Draco, tell them my Father is ill. I had to rush to his bedside and so on. I'm sure you will be able to embellish satisfactorily on that. I am awfully sorry Draco.
You may hear from your Father. You will know where he is now, he knows little so do not quiz him about my whereabouts. It is for a great cause, my dragon, one day you will be more thankful than you are now for our work.
Worry not, and keep up our pride, Love, Rowan xxx
Malfoy, who was enjoying the whole experience, threw his gaze over the girl. He felt no guilt but pleased that he had got what he wanted. Rowan was looking a little less sleek than before, but that could hardly be helped. What did surprise him was her apparent lack of enjoyment, Lucius knew that he had been somewhat forceful, but she had made no attempt to protest, in fact she had said nothing.
He decided to voice his concerns. "Are you all right?" He asked ever so stiffly.
There was no response from Rowan.
Lucius strode over to the figure, his footsteps echoing around the sealed stone. He approached her from behind, kneeling down so that they were on a level. He half nestled his head into her hair and neck, placing his right hand upon her shoulder.
"Why so quiet?" He asked softly, stroking his left index finger on her neck. He felt a shiver ripple down her spine.
"Don't" She whispered feeling her throat sticking uncomfortably.
"Mmmm?" He queried gently.
"Don't start being nice to me." She said, more firmly. "You don't have to."
Lucius, who, it was fair to say, was a little taken aback by her comment, said nothing. Although his finger still stroked rhythmically.
Rowan, who had been keeping her take on the day's events silent, soon felt the urge to voice it.
"This hasn't got anything to do with me. Has it, Lucius?" She shifted her body, sitting up for the first time. Her muscles felt weak and unused. However her eyes had become adjusted to the orange glow but she was keen to find out more about her surroundings. How many people could say they had seen inside a tomb while still alive?
Looking around the chamber she took in all there was to see. The smooth stone panels, the orange glow and even the stone like block where their deed had been committed. Her darkened eyes rested there for a moment, replaying a scene from hours before. She felt a sharp shot of pain and realised with a start that she had bit her lip.
Trying to discard the coppery taste enveloping her mouth, she turned her gaze to the rest of the vault. There was little there, just stone and stone and more stone. This stone was harsh and unlike any she could remember. It might have been the dull lighting but there was something wrong.
If her idea of being in a vault was correct, then there seemed to be a distinct lack of evidence. Sure there was the sickening smell of decay but ironically a vital part of the vault was missing. There were no bodies.
Rowan looked around again, a frown forming upon her brow. Lucius looked uncharacteristically uneasy, checking his silver pocket watch and pacing around like a caged animal. She looked past him to the wall; here she saw a crest carved into the stone. Her eyes narrowed, she became curious, swinging her legs around and slipping off the block.
She slinked over in Lucius' direction, brushing past him slightly until she reached the correct wall. Bending in closer she saw all she needed to see. It was a simple thing; two identical serpents wrapped together, their heads facing in different directions. It was the Malfoy's crest.
Huh, she thought sourly, a derisive smirk forming on her lips.
"What?" Lucius asked self-consciously, turning to look at her quickly. She just shook her head, feeling a small laugh forming. Lucius asked the question again.
"I thought you'd put me somewhere else, that's all. I didn't realise we were in your basement!" He heard her giggle childishly. However she did not stop there. "You want to be careful, your wife might hear you." She turned around slyly, an urge for revenge overpowering her. "How is Narcissa these days?"
Rowan leaned back against the cool wall, enjoying the effect. She looked up at the strong-shouldered man who seemed to be holding his tongue. "Always the way, eh, Lucius. Never satisfied are you?" He lifted his chin slightly, looking down his nose at the girl who was still smirking.
"It's all about you and your power games." She said, smoothing her hands through her hair, trying to undo some of Lucius' handiwork. "I know all about you Mr. Malfoy." She raised her right eyebrow. "All about you and my Mother." He did not flinch. "How you pursued her relentlessly, how you never left her alone and how she chose my Father over you."
Rowan's eyes hardened, she went on with even more conviction. "You could not have my Mother, so you have me." Lucius took a slow breath, the mention of Rowan's Mother biting at his spine. He noticed the way her eyes never left his own. Yet he said nothing.
"You despised my Father, and all because my Mother wanted him. Lucius Malfoy just can't stand being rejected." She looked waspishly up at him, her confidence growing. Rowan did not notice the light dying behind his silver eyes.
"You know nothing about me." He snapped acidly, showing emotion for the first time.
"I know more than you would like." She teased him cruelly moving off the wall and getting closer. "You're too late." She noticed the way a muscle in his cheek twitched as she spoke.
"What do you mean?" He asked quickly, swallowing hard.
Rowan's face lost some of its malice. "She's dead."
Lucius blinked, "Dead?"
Rowan nodded, silently clamping her jaws together to block out any stray waves of grief.
"When did this happen?" He asked solidly, not really wanting an answer.
"A while back. Long after you left, if that's what you're wondering." She had dropped her eyes and moved back from the man, turning her body from him. The talk of the past unsettled her, though she had the feeling Lucius wouldn't push it.
He cleared his throat. "I, well, I'm.."
"You're sorry?" She asked sarcastically, forgetting her head. "Whatever for? You have it all; your wife, your son, Voldemort, me." She finished duly, her hair falling in front of her eyes for a moment. She looked up defiantly. "What were you planning to do, send an owl to my parents describing what you were doing to me?" She could not help releasing some of the anger pent up over time.
Her words were partially ignored by Lucius. He was too wrapped up in understanding how he missed the fact her mother was dead. They did, however, remind him of the owl that Rowan would have to write later on. He turned as well, casting his eyes around for his bag containing parchment, quills and ink.
He busied himself in setting them up on the stone block, which was at the right height for someone to kneel at. Lucius could not let the news of her Mother's death cloud his mind, he had to get this done as quickly and as correctly as possible.
"Here." He said briskly, moving his head towards her. "You've got to write a letter." Sensing that Rowan was about to interrupt, "Before you say anything, it's to Draco." He raised himself back up and moved stealthily over to her, placing his hands onto her shoulders and whispering tenderly into her ear. "Do it for your master, my red one."
Immediately she jolted away from him, her body going rigid. "Just do it." He ordered heartlessly. He pushed her, his hand between her shoulder blades, onto the floor. "Tell him that you're going to be away for a bit, that your sorry and that you miss him terribly."
"How about the fact his Father just slept with me." She said dryly, the pain in her knees making her eyes water.
"Tut tut tut." Lucius said sarcastically. "So you did enjoy it. Well now, Rowan, if only you had let me known earlier." He smirked. "Yet I do believe my dearest son would be a little alarmed if he knew. Perhaps we should save the father/son times if you two get married."
She blinked through the tears, wondering if he had heard him right. "Excuse me?" She asked blankly.
"Oh you heard me right. He won't mind then." He smiled politely.
"No, Lucius, if we get married? I'm sorry but where did that come from?" Her pain was forgotten all Rowan cared about was getting the truth from him.
"Draco's marriage. You did not know? It has been arranged for years!"
"No!" Rowan wheezed, any power draining from her.
"Well Draco needs a pureblood, someone to produce some decent heirs. It seems you two have already had a head start." He chuckled to himself. "Get on with the letter girl, I haven't got all day."
Rowan, who did not know quite whether to jump up and down in wild frustration or to sob silently, faced the block. For all she knew, Malfoy could be bluffing, in fact she was pretty sure of it. If the man had no clue that her Mother was dead then any knowledge of arranged marriages seemed a little unreliable.
In front of her was a smooth parchment sheet, an inkpot stained black with slippery contents and a noble eagle-feather quill. She recognised it as being like the one Potter had, how odd that two wizards poles apart in beliefs could pick the same stationary.
Flipping the lid from the pot, she dipped the quill into the pot, tapped of the excess ink and began to write scratchily onto the parchment.
Dear Draco, I am sorry if you could not find me today. I am afraid I have been called away on some urgent business. You will have some idea of which I speak but must understand that I cannot go into details for risk of Ministry interception. Anyway, I am unaware as to how long I will be absent. It might only be for a short while, say another day or two or, as I deeply fear, longer.
If anyone asks and I mean anyone Draco, tell them my Father is ill. I had to rush to his bedside and so on. I'm sure you will be able to embellish satisfactorily on that. I am awfully sorry Draco.
You may hear from your Father. You will know where he is now, he knows little so do not quiz him about my whereabouts. It is for a great cause, my dragon, one day you will be more thankful than you are now for our work.
Worry not, and keep up our pride, Love, Rowan xxx