Black Night
Part Two
Rated R
Narcissa/Rabastan, Narcissa/Lucius, Bellatrix/Severus
The night was the darkest and warmest Narcissa could ever remember feeling, which was strange, considering it was mid-October and the year in general had been cold.
Smoke curled up before them, making her eyes water. The mission had been a hard one, and they had come very close to losing Severus, the youngest of the Fold by three months at seventeen. He was skilled and his spells were powerful, but he often left himself more vulnerable than was necessary. Under normal circumstances, the Dark Lord would have punished him for his shortcomings, but in the end, it had been Severus who had taken out the target from where he lay on the ground, sprawled in a pool of his own blood, and for that, the Dark Lord forgave him.
Bellatrix being the best in the group at Healing, she was still next to Severus, her wand out, talking to him between spells, and he was responding quietly, his black eyes glittering in the firelight. As she watched, Narcissa saw him reach out his hand and touch Bella's cheek gently, and he smiled.
She looked away, at the fire, feeling the muscles tighten in her own cheek. It seemed she would never have that. The only man of the Fold she had wanted, ever, was Lucius, but he seemed to dismiss her, and she had given up hoping that that might change.
She glanced around the circle again at the men. Most of them were quite subdued despite the victory; the newest intiation - Rabastan Lestrange, the younger brother of Rodolphus, who had been the fourth Death Eater - was holding a small glass bottle in his hand, examining it glumly. Lucius was sitting three seats away, talking in a soft voice to the older Nathaniel Avery, who was nodding slowly. As her eyes lingered there for a moment she saw him look up at her and then away quickly.
Rodolphus sat not far from Bellatrix and Severus, silent and brooding, and their key spy, Augustus Rookwood, was sitting alone - the others seemed to keep away from him.
Narcissa herself sat alone as well - on one side, several feet away, was Rabastan, and on the other there was no one, although Bella and Severus were the closest that way. They were slightly outside the circle of where people were sitting.
She looked over at Rabastan again - he was the only one in the circle who she could look at without emotion right now - to find that he was looking at her, too. A breif smile flashed across his face and he put a lid back on the glass bottle and stowed it in a pocket.
He stood and moved to sit by her - for a moment the circle went silent, but then the soft talk started again. Rodolphus was looking at the two of them with mild interest.
Rabastan was silent a moment, and then he said softly, "Are the missions always that. . .brutal?"
She looked at him a bit sharply - he was staring at her with large brown eyes that were both interested and frightened. He wasn't used to the way of things yet, and hadn't been expecting what had happened.
She looked down, away from him, and said quietly, "Sometimes. Not always."
"How long have you been. . .?" he started to ask.
"Since the beginning of August." She hadn't watched his initiation, and she wondered vaguely what happened to the men. Her Mark stung.
His seemed to have, as well, because he asked next, "How long does it hurt for?"
"The constant pain reduces for about a month before vanishing, but it burns still sometimes. I expect it always will." He nodded with a sigh, and she looked back at him. "I've gotten used to it. You will eventually."
"I'll have to be strong, if I mean to survive in the Fold," he said almost to himself. "I was never very strong, but now I have to be."
"The strength comes to you," she said, sensing his fear. "It comes to you, with time."
He looked at her, and his eyes had changed, very suddenly holding something else. "I don't. . ." he began, and took a deep breath. "I don't know if I would join again, if I could make a second choice. I can't see myself surviving this. I never realized. . .Rodolphus was always stronger. I just wanted to prove that I could be strong too. I agree with the morals, I agree that the world needs to be purged of the unworthy magical, but I can't believe that I can do this." He flushed, looking away, as if suddenly ashamed of saying all that he had out loud. Narcissa had a feeling that he had said exactly what he was thinking. She looked away too, not wanting him to be any more ashamed, over at Bellatrix, in time to see her bend over Severus and kiss him hard. She looked back at Rabastan. Anything was better than watching that.
He was looking at her again with that strange look in his eyes. "Thank you," he said quietly. "I don't usually find people who won't laugh at me when I say something like that."
She smiled, and kissed him.
She was very aware as she did so that the circle had gone absolutely silent, that every eye was on them. Even Lucius'.
It gave her a bitter sort of pleasure to know that.
She pulled back after a long moment. Rabastan looked thunderstruck, but not in the least bit displeased, and he smiled at her, less shyly, looking much younger than he had a few moments before. His eyes gleamed darkly, and his face glowed as the surprise faded from it.
Lucius was still staring at her.
It was almost an hour later, after the fire had died, that they finally began to Disapparate home. Bellatrix finally left Severus' side, only to tell Narcissa that he was still too weak to Disapparate so she was going to lend him strength to double-Apparate. They exchanged smiles and then Bellatrix and Severus were gone, Avery and Rookwood went as well. Rabastan shot Narcissa an apologetic look and she smiled as he too vanished with his brother.
Then her smile faded as she realized that this had left her alone with a displeased-looking Lucius.
She fumbled for her wand to Disapparate, frantically looking anywhere but Lucius, but before she could she felt a hand grip her upper arm tightly, right around where the Dark Mark was. She winced, and looked slowly up into Lucius' face.
His eyes. . .they were strange, seeming to glow almost like the Dark Lord's did - except grey, rimmed with black, instead of red. His face was tight and angry and his fingers were holding her arm so tightly she was sure she would find bruises there later.
He lifted her to her feet, his eyes flickering over her face - she was sure she looked terrified - and then he smiled cruelly. His wand was in his hand, and she heard the word spoken, Imperio. Her terror melted - her fear was nothing - she was flying - everything was perfect - and there was a small voice inside her head, a smooth one that she was sure she ought to obey, saying Kiss me.
And she did.
Harder, the voice insisted, and she felt her trembling body almost against her will - no, not against it, with it, this was what she wanted - pressing closer to him, closer, tasting the mint and the copper again, and the voice continued, Relax, and she felt herself obey, her tenseness vanishing, letting him take control, letting him unfasten her cloak and push it to the ground. Letting his fingers as she remembered untie her robes, and then the voice continued, and she found herself struggling with the buttons of his shirt, and the voice kept talking in her head. She was only too glad to obey.
His fingers stopped for a moment, and hers obediantly paused as he whispered something, still clutching her to him as if she was going to break, and there was a swirl of color. She felt the ground beneath her feet vanish and then she was standing in a room with him, a darkened room, and he had pushed her roughly against the wall, and she was whispering the words he told her to whisper, I love you I love you I love you, and the words were lost into his mouth, and he was gasping into hers, still working with the strings and buttons and zippers of her clothing. He was bare- chested now, and she was still trembling, shaking, hearing that wonderful voice inside her head.
He had finally managed to push her robes away and start with her undershirt, one arm pulling at it, the other holding her right up against him.
Then the cold hit her, and she was aware again, and she was still doing the same thing, obeying the commands that he had been giving her. Whirling, her mind spinning gladly, she wondered why she had broken the spell. But she was more aware now of his heat, of his smooth skin and of his hands that were now pulling her back away from the wall and pushing her onto the bed she had not even noticed.
She moaned quietly - his fingers had just done something strange and she could not help herself, he pulled back for a single breath and laughed at her softly, and pulled her closer again.
The night was the darkest and warmest Narcissa could ever remember feeling, which was strange, considering it was mid-October and the year in general had been cold.
Smoke curled up before them, making her eyes water. The mission had been a hard one, and they had come very close to losing Severus, the youngest of the Fold by three months at seventeen. He was skilled and his spells were powerful, but he often left himself more vulnerable than was necessary. Under normal circumstances, the Dark Lord would have punished him for his shortcomings, but in the end, it had been Severus who had taken out the target from where he lay on the ground, sprawled in a pool of his own blood, and for that, the Dark Lord forgave him.
Bellatrix being the best in the group at Healing, she was still next to Severus, her wand out, talking to him between spells, and he was responding quietly, his black eyes glittering in the firelight. As she watched, Narcissa saw him reach out his hand and touch Bella's cheek gently, and he smiled.
She looked away, at the fire, feeling the muscles tighten in her own cheek. It seemed she would never have that. The only man of the Fold she had wanted, ever, was Lucius, but he seemed to dismiss her, and she had given up hoping that that might change.
She glanced around the circle again at the men. Most of them were quite subdued despite the victory; the newest intiation - Rabastan Lestrange, the younger brother of Rodolphus, who had been the fourth Death Eater - was holding a small glass bottle in his hand, examining it glumly. Lucius was sitting three seats away, talking in a soft voice to the older Nathaniel Avery, who was nodding slowly. As her eyes lingered there for a moment she saw him look up at her and then away quickly.
Rodolphus sat not far from Bellatrix and Severus, silent and brooding, and their key spy, Augustus Rookwood, was sitting alone - the others seemed to keep away from him.
Narcissa herself sat alone as well - on one side, several feet away, was Rabastan, and on the other there was no one, although Bella and Severus were the closest that way. They were slightly outside the circle of where people were sitting.
She looked over at Rabastan again - he was the only one in the circle who she could look at without emotion right now - to find that he was looking at her, too. A breif smile flashed across his face and he put a lid back on the glass bottle and stowed it in a pocket.
He stood and moved to sit by her - for a moment the circle went silent, but then the soft talk started again. Rodolphus was looking at the two of them with mild interest.
Rabastan was silent a moment, and then he said softly, "Are the missions always that. . .brutal?"
She looked at him a bit sharply - he was staring at her with large brown eyes that were both interested and frightened. He wasn't used to the way of things yet, and hadn't been expecting what had happened.
She looked down, away from him, and said quietly, "Sometimes. Not always."
"How long have you been. . .?" he started to ask.
"Since the beginning of August." She hadn't watched his initiation, and she wondered vaguely what happened to the men. Her Mark stung.
His seemed to have, as well, because he asked next, "How long does it hurt for?"
"The constant pain reduces for about a month before vanishing, but it burns still sometimes. I expect it always will." He nodded with a sigh, and she looked back at him. "I've gotten used to it. You will eventually."
"I'll have to be strong, if I mean to survive in the Fold," he said almost to himself. "I was never very strong, but now I have to be."
"The strength comes to you," she said, sensing his fear. "It comes to you, with time."
He looked at her, and his eyes had changed, very suddenly holding something else. "I don't. . ." he began, and took a deep breath. "I don't know if I would join again, if I could make a second choice. I can't see myself surviving this. I never realized. . .Rodolphus was always stronger. I just wanted to prove that I could be strong too. I agree with the morals, I agree that the world needs to be purged of the unworthy magical, but I can't believe that I can do this." He flushed, looking away, as if suddenly ashamed of saying all that he had out loud. Narcissa had a feeling that he had said exactly what he was thinking. She looked away too, not wanting him to be any more ashamed, over at Bellatrix, in time to see her bend over Severus and kiss him hard. She looked back at Rabastan. Anything was better than watching that.
He was looking at her again with that strange look in his eyes. "Thank you," he said quietly. "I don't usually find people who won't laugh at me when I say something like that."
She smiled, and kissed him.
She was very aware as she did so that the circle had gone absolutely silent, that every eye was on them. Even Lucius'.
It gave her a bitter sort of pleasure to know that.
She pulled back after a long moment. Rabastan looked thunderstruck, but not in the least bit displeased, and he smiled at her, less shyly, looking much younger than he had a few moments before. His eyes gleamed darkly, and his face glowed as the surprise faded from it.
Lucius was still staring at her.
It was almost an hour later, after the fire had died, that they finally began to Disapparate home. Bellatrix finally left Severus' side, only to tell Narcissa that he was still too weak to Disapparate so she was going to lend him strength to double-Apparate. They exchanged smiles and then Bellatrix and Severus were gone, Avery and Rookwood went as well. Rabastan shot Narcissa an apologetic look and she smiled as he too vanished with his brother.
Then her smile faded as she realized that this had left her alone with a displeased-looking Lucius.
She fumbled for her wand to Disapparate, frantically looking anywhere but Lucius, but before she could she felt a hand grip her upper arm tightly, right around where the Dark Mark was. She winced, and looked slowly up into Lucius' face.
His eyes. . .they were strange, seeming to glow almost like the Dark Lord's did - except grey, rimmed with black, instead of red. His face was tight and angry and his fingers were holding her arm so tightly she was sure she would find bruises there later.
He lifted her to her feet, his eyes flickering over her face - she was sure she looked terrified - and then he smiled cruelly. His wand was in his hand, and she heard the word spoken, Imperio. Her terror melted - her fear was nothing - she was flying - everything was perfect - and there was a small voice inside her head, a smooth one that she was sure she ought to obey, saying Kiss me.
And she did.
Harder, the voice insisted, and she felt her trembling body almost against her will - no, not against it, with it, this was what she wanted - pressing closer to him, closer, tasting the mint and the copper again, and the voice continued, Relax, and she felt herself obey, her tenseness vanishing, letting him take control, letting him unfasten her cloak and push it to the ground. Letting his fingers as she remembered untie her robes, and then the voice continued, and she found herself struggling with the buttons of his shirt, and the voice kept talking in her head. She was only too glad to obey.
His fingers stopped for a moment, and hers obediantly paused as he whispered something, still clutching her to him as if she was going to break, and there was a swirl of color. She felt the ground beneath her feet vanish and then she was standing in a room with him, a darkened room, and he had pushed her roughly against the wall, and she was whispering the words he told her to whisper, I love you I love you I love you, and the words were lost into his mouth, and he was gasping into hers, still working with the strings and buttons and zippers of her clothing. He was bare- chested now, and she was still trembling, shaking, hearing that wonderful voice inside her head.
He had finally managed to push her robes away and start with her undershirt, one arm pulling at it, the other holding her right up against him.
Then the cold hit her, and she was aware again, and she was still doing the same thing, obeying the commands that he had been giving her. Whirling, her mind spinning gladly, she wondered why she had broken the spell. But she was more aware now of his heat, of his smooth skin and of his hands that were now pulling her back away from the wall and pushing her onto the bed she had not even noticed.
She moaned quietly - his fingers had just done something strange and she could not help herself, he pulled back for a single breath and laughed at her softly, and pulled her closer again.
