Chapter Eleven: Reasoning With Lucius

Rose was a mess, drenched in sweat and caked with dirt as she worked in the extensive garden at Malfoy Manor. Some day soon, she'd have to find a book on magical gardening to see if there were any useful spells to take the edge off of the physical labor. For now, though, she reveled in the sweat rolling down her back, the sound of her breath heavy in her ears. As long as she was lost in her exertion she couldn't concentrate on Severus and his last words to her.

No one had ever hurt her so badly, neither her father's killer, nor the Death Eaters (Bellatrix and Dolohov, she'd discovered through Severus), when they killed Nina. She had tried to be an empty shell, to just exist without any emotion after she left Hogwarts, but it was no good. Instead of feeling nothing, she had become more keenly sensitive than she'd ever been before. She was completely raw, like an uncovered wound, and nothing seemed to aid in healing her.

For three days she'd tried to work it off, sleeping only a couple of hours at a time before she'd awaken and leave her bed to polish the chandeliers or scrub the floors. She'd also taken it upon herself to polish all of the silverware and jewelry in the house. And last night, Draco had asked her to mend his quidditch robes, saying that his father could, of course, afford new ones, but it was tradition to wear the same robes as long as possible, sometimes all the way through school, patching the rips, tears, and holes so that by one's graduation, the player's robes were said to be as seasoned as the player. Rose had thought it to be an adorable custom and had readily agreed to mend the few rips and holes in Draco's robes.

Today, she was trying to get as hot and sweaty as possible, hoping to bury her emotional pain in the strain of her muscles as she pulled weeds, trimmed hedges, and replaced dead plants the muggle way. She'd been at it since before breakfast, stopping only to fix lunch for the gentlemen, but the only result was an aching back, torn hands, and a little dehydration on top of the desperate ache in her heart.

Her only joy was watching Draco chase a snitch around the garden while he, and occasionally she, dodged a bludger he'd set loose. More than once, he had shouted a warning and she'd looked up just in time to dive to the ground as the vicious ball, neither knowing nor caring that she wasn't a quidditch player, came hurtling her way. Draco's laughter, when it sent her flying into rosebush or rolling into the pile of weeds and dead limbs she'd accumulated, was infectious, and sharing in his mirth at her misfortune did lighten her mood just a bit.

Until---

"What do you think you are doing?" came a cold, drawling voice directly behind her.

Rose closed her eyes for just a moment trying to gather herself. Lucius Malfoy had taken her recent sullenness as a personal affront, thinking that she was bothered by the fact that he had kissed her, and had responded to her denial of his responsibility with great agitation. Apparently, he really hated being lied to, even for his own comfort.

Then again, she wasn't lying, so what was one to do?

She turned and looked him directly in the eye, which she had also learned pleased him greatly. He felt that one couldn't hide as well when making eye contact. Little did he know that she had learned from Cimino not only how to block her mind off completely from other wizards, but also how to press other thoughts to the forefront of her mind. In this way she could pretend to be an open book (a trick she'd used with Malfoy the day of her interview).

Presently, she allowed him to see her great attraction to him and her extreme reluctance to become intimate. She also pretended to be working through her frustration with the situation. It hid her actual heartbreak, and padded Mr. Malfoy's ego as well. That never hurt. Unfortunately, it also forced her to concentrate on how splendid he looked today in a crisp white linen shirt cut in the old-world style and perfectly tailored gray trousers. Merlin's beard, did the man ever have a bad day?

"I'm weeding and trimming the garden, Mr. Malfoy."

"That is obvious, Madam. Do you not have spells for that kind of work? You are absolutely filthy." He curled his lip in disgust.

Rose hung her head. "I'm sorry, sir. I enjoy getting my hands dirty, sometimes."

"And your face, and your clothes, as well, obviously."

"You've made your point, sir," Rose said a but more sternly than she intended. Then added with a sigh. "Have I done something to upset you-- besides this, I mean?"

He considered her for a moment, then seemed to make up his mind about something. "Go and bathe yourself, then attend me in my sitting room. There's something I should like to discuss with you."

Uh-oh.

"Yes, sir. Right away."

Half an hour later Rose found herself sitting across from Lucius Malfoy, ironically in the chair that Alex had once occupied, trying to think of a way to turn down the generous glass of wine he was pouring for her. Nothing came immediately to mind and she found herself taking a small sip just to appease him. It was remarkably good.

"Rose," he began carefully, leaning back in his chair and freezing her with those piercing gray eyes. "I have waited patiently for you to talk to me willingly, but you have not, indeed you have avoided me at every opportunity. I am growing increasingly annoyed with seeing you so miserable."

"I'm alright, sir," she hastened to reassure him, just as she had several times this week when he had grilled her about her sudden change in demeanor; for try as she might there was no hiding the pain she felt. The wound was too fresh. "I'm sorry that--"

Lucius held up his hand in that royal manner that he had, cutting off not only her words, but her thoughts as well. Sweet Mab, he was beautiful! It was a shame that she had been forced to endure the punishment from Severus, but had not had the pleasure of committing the sin.

"Rose, I am not certain what you are accustomed to, but in my home, you will wait until I have finished speaking before interjecting your own thoughts."

She lowered her head in mock subservience, but that was not to be allowed. "Look at me when I am speaking to you."

Obediently she raised her gaze. Usually she got a kick out of this master/servant game he liked to play, but today she didn't feel like being toyed with. She just wanted to get out of here and work until she dropped from exhaustion as had been her custom since Sunday night. Unfortunately, from the way he was drinking, this promised to be a long conversation. Lucius Malfoy, with a few glasses of wine in his system, could talk the hind leg off a hippogryph.

He didn't notice that she had put her glass aside.

"I am not a man who is accustomed to being denied what I want."

Uh-oh.

"And, I am aware that you desire me, yet you denied us both the pleasure when I made the offer. This is highly unusual behavior but I was prepared to accept it, though it was most certainly within my abilities to overpower you, then alter your memory." The insinuated threat hung in the air without a response. "However, you seem more disturbed than you should be under the circumstances, and I must insist that you favor me with an explanation. Are you offended that I made the offer, or are you disappointed that you walked away?" He rested his arms on the wings of the chair and steepled his fingers, signaling that she could now respond.

Oh, well, she thought, may as well give him what he wants. It will get him off my case, anyway.

"I'm not offended that you kissed me, sir. I'm flattered that you would even notice me. And I am, admittedly, very disappointed that I couldn't accept what you were offering. It took all of my will to walk away from you." That, at least, was the truth.

He tilted his head in curiosity. "Then, why did you do so?"

Rose took a deep breath, her thoughts racing for a valid explanation.

"Because I'm a hired servant, sir," she answered.

"And?"

"And you pay me generously for my services. Should that particular service be added to my responsibilities, I would fall into a category that is unacceptable to me." She looked at him meaningfully, expecting that he would understand her subtle meaning. The sudden raised eyebrows told her that he did.

"You assumed that I would consider you a whore?"

"No, sir. I was concerned that I would consider myself a whore. As much as I appreciate this opportunity, sir, I did not take this position with the intention of becoming the personal toy of the Lord of the manor." She took up her glass and drained it of half its contents.

Lucius immediately refilled it.

"Shouldn't I be filling your glass, sir?" she asked.

"Not at present, no," he answered briskly. "If you feel that you made the right decision, and it would seem that you do, why does it continue to trouble you?"

Rose smiled shyly. "Because I'm no longer certain that I did make the right decision." She looked down, her face flushing, no longer able to meet his eyes which had developed an amused twinkle at her last words.

"Yet you are still reluctant to give in to your desire. Why?"

"I suppose--"

"Rose, you are not looking at me."

She forced her eyes to meet his and continued. "I suppose I would have to confess-- that I'm afraid of you."

Lucius laughed; a long, slow, soft laugh. "The final proof that you are an intelligent woman. But, surely there's something else," he said shrewdly, "or perhaps, someone else? Someone you left behind, perhaps? It has not escaped my notice that you receive no letters from home."

Someone else-- Severus, my love.

Desperately, she tried to think of something else, but memories of her last encounter with Severus had her reeling in an instant, and the tears that she'd kept at bay since Sunday began to fall. She brought a hand to her eyes to wipe away the humiliating flow. Merlin's beard! Did she really have to break down in front of Lucius Malfoy of all people?

A moment later, a silken handkerchief was placed in her free hand. She nearly laughed at the sight of it. How perfectly genteel. Of course he would have a silken handkerchief to give to grieving woman.

"Thank you," she murmured, now thoroughly humiliated, but dabbing her eyes with the cool cloth, nonetheless. "May I please go now? I need to see about dinner."

"By all means," he answered in a voice laced with something very unusual. It almost sounded like kindness. Immediately, she dismissed the thought. There wasn't a kind bone in Lucius Malfoy's body. If anything, he was trying to alleviate her fear of him to make her easier to seduce.

As she left the room, Lucius sat back to contemplate the flashes of images that he had seen in her mind; a middle-aged wizard, black hair, not overtly attractive, but very powerful. It was a shame he hadn't been able to see his face. It would have been interesting to see the type of man that fascinated her.

Whoever it was, he had left a stain on her soul, that was easy to see.

This was becoming more and more interesting. How could he erase that wizard from her heart and bend Rose to his will, to make her his servant in every sense? It would be an amusing distraction for awhile, and she was a prize worth the effort.

In fact, walking away from him as coolly as she had, she had almost reminded him of his Alexandria.

He stopped his thoughts. Backed up a bit.

His Alexandria? She was anything, but that. That woman belonged to no one but herself. It was part of her charm.

Where the hell was she now? Severus had written him Monday night to say that she had come to see him only that afternoon, and he had given her the information that she required.

He suspected that she was hiding in Italy and aparating back and forth when necessary. And Severus, as usual, was probably right.

He sighed. It was so irritating to admit to himself that he missed her, missed their constant battle for the upper hand. Had his master not ordered Nina's death, he would probably have already tamed the unruly little witch.

Now that she was bent on revenge he would probably not see her again until the Death Eaters found a way around that contract and captured her, at which point, he would be required to take part in her torture and eventual slow death.

He drained his glass in one long swallow.

He hadn't wanted it to be this way. But, he would do what he must to survive. That was the Malfoy way.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Dinner was a casual affair, just Draco and Lucius chatting (amiably for once) about quidditch, Hogwarts, and Draco's arch nemesis, Potter. Rose watched them carefully as she refilled their glasses, cleared away plates and bowls, and brought in various courses of the meal. It was when they reached dessert that she noticed the heavy eyelids and increasingly drawling voices.

Perfect.

The tiny amount of sleeping draught she'd slipped them was finally taking effect. They would be asleep shortly and wouldn't wake for at least eight hours.

Rose smiled serenely.

Tonight, blood would flow, vengeance would be had, and the Death Eaters would tremble.

Tonight, Bellatrix and Dolohov would die.

_____________________________________________________________________________________

Rycca: Poor Alex, she's falling apart and Snape's picking at the pieces. Jealousy can turn a man into a monster, no doubt, blinding him to everything but his own rage. On a more painful note, you did WHAT??? I'm so proud of you! I'd like to rip your arms off (joking!), but I'm really proud, nonetheless. I guess I'm just going to have to go look up juggling to catch up with you and Sylvan. I'll probably fail spectacularly as I'm hopelessly uncoordinated!

Lady Jenilyn: Yes, the hot sex does make up for ripping her heart out and jumping up and down on it. Wait a minute, what am I saying? Still, I'd suffer heartbreak for a night with Severus. It's shameful, but true. Now that you mention the maternal feelings for the little dragon, I'm inclined to keep him the way he is. It does fit more closely with the way I want Rose to feel about him.

Marina: You're rooting for Lucius, eh? It's hard not to, admittedly. As much as they all surprise me, I know who is going to win in the end, but I'm not telling. I hope you are not disappointed. Please keep reading. I enjoyed your review.

Fleur K: Sorry about the vision. Try a strong cup of mint tea with soymilk and honey. It works wonders for me. Thanks for sticking around through the last few chapters. Things are about to come out of slow motion, I promise.

Silverfey: I'm sorry to tell you that, yes, he did mean it, or at least the biggest part of him which can't stand seeing her go back to Malfoy Manor (back to Lucius, in his eyes) meant every word. He's so jealous he can't see straight. And, actually, you bring up an interesting query. Yes. It actually is hard to make my characters cry, especially Alex. She's been through hell and back, and I don't think she deserves this. It was tough to hurt her again. I believe that Lucius finds Rose interesting, and he is lonely and a little bored, so he's decided that seducing her will be fun. Oh, goodie for her! More heartbreak. I think a small part of him also sees the similarity to Alex, whom he really does find fascinating, and it is pulling him like a magnet, whether he realizes it or not. Draco needed her before she even got there.