Chapter Twenty-Five: Learning To Fly

Author's Note: This chapter is dedicated to my little Sylvan who came up with the idea of the flying lesson in the first place.

With respect to this, one of my favorite songs, the quote is intended as a joke.

A soul in tension that's learning to fly

Condition grounded but determined to try.

Can't keep my eyes from the circling skies

Tongue tied and twisted just an Earth-bound misfit, I.

-Pink Floyd

Lucius Malfoy leaned heavily against the window frame as the first rays of morning light caught his eyes and turned them to molten silver. The trees of the estate forest glimmered in the morning dew, and the pond caught fire as ebony swans danced atop the water.

It was all lost on Lucius. His eyes were turned inward, remembering Alexandria as she'd slept in his arms, the only time he'd ever seen her completely peaceful. Of course, the other times he'd been in her company she'd had no reason to be peaceful, would have been a fool to let her guard down at all.

It had been unexpectedly pleasant, seeing her smile when she spotted him in the restaurant that fateful evening, her audacious kiss, signaling a complete lack of enmity. She felt that the contract allowed her that luxury, the peace of mind that came from knowing her enemy was powerless to harm her. But, the contract itself was nothing. What she didn't understand was that her perceived enemy had no desire to harm her. It was he who had decided that he would give her the opportunity to break the binding of her own free will, at great personal risk, no less. It was his benevolence, his uncharacteristic patience with her, that allowed their cessation of hostilities... that, and the fact that he found himself thinking about her constantly, remembering her spirited laughter, her energy, and the flicker of desire that he felt every time she challenged his authority.

In his hands he twirled a length of hair, the thin, golden-brown lock that he had severed from her head with her own wand as she'd slumbered beside him. It was the most important ingredient in the Breaking spell that he would be forced to cast if she rebelled against him. He slid the hair through his fingers again and again, considering his options, then sighed deeply. If Alexandria refused to cooperate, he would have to hurt her. There were no options.

He could tell her about the Breaking spell, but no matter how he put it, she would think that he was threatening her, and Alexandria did not respond well to threats. Five dead Death Eaters were testament to that fact.

You are a different story, he thought as his maid entered the room with a breakfast tray. Rose D'antoni had been most well-behaved since he brought her up from the dungeons two days ago. It was a shame that he'd had to go so far to prove a point to her, but it had made an enormous difference in her attitude. Where she had been respectful, she was now reverent. Where once there was obedience, there was now total submission. Rose had ceased to be a servant and was now a willing slave.

"Good morning, my lord," she greeted quietly. He fixed her with a menacing glare, and refused to respond, just to remind her that she had not yet regained his favor.

"Will you be taking breakfast in bed today, my lord?"

He gave her a wolfish smile. "I'd rather take you in my bed, Rose." Her reaction was a lovely flush that spread from her cheeks to her throat, and a soft, shy acquiescence.

"If it would please you, my lord."

"It would please me greatly." He stepped forward and her eyes flew open at his approach. He halted and continued. "Unfortunately, I have other, less-pleasant business to attend to this morning." It was true. He had to make certain that the Breaking spell was perfect in his mind, that everything was prepared for its casting if Alexandria, Merlin forbid, should refuse him. "I'm not hungry, to answer your question. Just leave the tea."

She lowered her head, followed his instructions, and practically ran from the room without another word. He watched her go with a satisfied smirk. He could certainly have taken the time to have the pleasure of a lovely woman in his bed, but he wanted her to be willing when he took her, and she was certainly not willing right now. She needed time, something more than two days to get over her newly-inspired terror of him. He wanted her fear, she needed to fear him, but the wild look in her eyes each time he approached her would have to go.

A fluttering caught his attention and as he turned, a large, feathery projectile dove for his head, nearly scalping him.

"Bloody beast!" He scowled across the room at the owl, now perched calmly on his bureau, and contemplated cursing it. "Is that letter for me?" he asked petulantly, referring to the envelope clutched in his attacker's beak. The owl just glared at him with huge golden eyes. Lucius grabbed his wand and took aim, but the bird, taking the hint, dropped the letter and flew off, leaving behind a less-than-welcome "gift" on the newly-polished wood. Lucius summoned the maid as he opened the envelope.

"Yes, my lord?"

"Some horrid post-owl has soiled my bureau," he said tersely.

"Taken care of, my lord," Rose promised, hurrying off to collect cleaning potions.

Lucius sank into his chair as he read.

My dearest Lucius,

Day and night I have thought of nothing but you, and have found it almost impossible to put aside the memory of you to consider your proposal; your touch, the taste of your kiss, the silken brush of your hair against my skin haunts me. My desire for you leaves little room for rational thought. As I promised, though, I have managed to carefully contemplate your words, and I have an answer for you. Apparate directly into the room we shared at the Connaught, nine o'clock Friday night. I look forward to seeing you again.

Always,

Alexandria

Lucius read the letter through three times, searching for some subtle hint of Alexandria's state of mind but, with the exception of obvious sensual content, it was deliberately sterile. He checked the clock. It was barely after six. Fabulous. Fifteen hours to worry. The letter was tossed onto the bureau as Lucius strode purposefully out of the room toward the library, tea tray following obediently.

Rose grumpily cursed the enormous creeper vine which had invaded the shrubs on the south side of the garden seemingly overnight. The thick, green plant immediately shriveled and died, slowly curling in on itself until there was nothing left but ash. She sighed at the sight. It was so much more satisfying to garden the muggle way, but Lucius would have none of it. He insisted on keeping everything spotlessly clean, even the help.

Her mood brightened measurably when she saw Draco approaching through the arch of climbing ivy dressed in his newly-patched quidditch robe and polished flying gear.

"Hi, Drac," she called winningly as he approached.

He stopped in front of her with two brooms in hand. She recognized his easily as he was on it almost every day. The other looked older, almost antique, though the wood gleamed in the sunlight and each twig was perfectly groomed.

"What's this?" she asked nodding at the new edition to his daily flight.

"This is my father's old broom." He scowled at it dubiously. "I've been after him for years to buy a new one, but he just ignores me."

"I didn't know your father flew," she commented uneasily, unsure of where Draco was going with this.

"He used to be great, one of the best quidditch players Hogwarts has ever seen," he answered proudly. "I've always wanted to fly with him, but he's much too busy for that type of thing."

Rose's mouth tightened into a straight line. Of course Lucius was too busy to spend time with his only son and heir. Did she expect anything else from him? Quickly she pushed aside the anger that was threatening to cause a torrent of uncharitable comments about Lucius Malfoy's parenting methods.

"He does have quite a few responsibilities," she admitted as gracefully as she could.

Like drinking too heavily, hitting on the maid, and torturing his enemies.

Again, she pushed the spiteful thoughts aside.

"So, why do you have his broom?" she asked.

"I asked him if I could teach you to fly," he answered casually.

"And, he said 'no,' of course," she led.

"He said that you deserved a bit of recreation." Draco passed the broom to Rose and she took it awkwardly, still unsure.

"Are you sure he didn't say, 'Draco, stop fraternizing with the help?'" She eyed him steadily. If he was lying, and she was caught playing around on his father's broom when she should have been working, Lucius would skin her alive.

"Don't be ridiculous. Father considers you to be much more than just a maid. You're practically a member of the family," Draco insisted.

Rose let a quick bark of a laugh escape her lips, and Draco's face grew serious.

"He speaks very highly of you, Rose," he added, obviously offended at her disbelief.

She stared at him doubtfully. "He does?" she asked finally.

"Why would I lie?"

She laughed again, more easily this time. "Don't ask me to fathom the mind of a teenage aristocrat, kiddo," she answered easily. "So, how do I do this? I'm kind of the 'Earth-bound misfit' type."

"'Right," Draco's demeanor became so suddenly professional that Rose had to hold back a laugh or risk offending him again. "Follow my lead." He dropped his own broomstick on the ground, and after a moment's hesitation and a glare from her young teacher, she followed suit.

"Now, say 'up,'" he instructed, "Like this." He demonstrated, and his broom leapt obediently into his hand.

Rose looked down dubiously at the broom lying beside her and called, "Up."

It didn't budge.

"I think your father's broom is a dud," she said with a scowl.

"No, it isn't," Draco answered seriously. "You're just not being authoritative enough."

"Well, I am a servant," she joked.

"Well, that broom is not your employer. Now stop being so delicate with it," he ordered.

His tone was enough to anger her out of complacence. This time, when she called the broom, it leapt into her hand as if it had belonged to her for years.

"Well done, now mount your broom like so," he said, demonstrating. Rose mirrored his movements. "Kick off, hard." Again, he led by example, hovering a few feet above ground.

Rose followed suit, and hovered unsteadily a bit higher than her young instructor.

"Stop wavering so much," he ordered testily.

She struggled to keep her balance, teetering on the broom as the light breeze buffeted her.

High above on the third story terrace, Lucius chuckled at the spectacle of his normally poised servant wobbling on his old broom, and tried unsuccessfully to bury the school-boy comments his brain was making about her being unable to handle something long and hard between her thighs. Honestly, he berated himself, this is amusing enough without adolescent commentary.

He whispered a complex spell, sharpening his vision and hearing, allowing him to observe the duo as if he were standing beside them in the garden.

"How exactly do I stop wavering? I feel like I'm falling off this damn thing," Rose snapped at Draco.

"The key is to keep moving the 'damn thing,'" Draco mocked. "You're too hesitant."

While Draco instructed her on how to steer, Lucius ground his teeth. Draco was uncommonly fond of Rose, else he would never have braved his father's anger to ask for his old broom. Rose was a pureblood witch, and therefore acceptable company for his son, but if the boy began picking up her habit of cursing like a commoner, he'd have to cut out her tongue.

Meanwhile, Rose's language was becoming even more colorful as she learned that flying was not as easy as Draco made it look. They were currently soaring around the garden, circling higher and higher with Draco leading and shouting the occasional reprimand or compliment. Rose was still shaking uncertainly on her broom when she turned and Draco was quickly losing patience with her insecurity.

He looped backward and righted himself directly beside her, keeping pace easily. "Keep practicing," he ordered. "I'll be right back."

Her eyes widened at the news that he was leaving her in the air atop his father's broom, but he was on the ground and sprinting for the manor before she could stop him.

Lucius watched her maneuver around the garden with a small smile. She looked lovely darting about high in the air, her silhouette curving in exactly the right places. A faint stirring of desire for her rose quickly, and was pushed back down forcefully. Patience was needed with this one. He would never have allowed another servant to keep him waiting as she had done, but then, any other servant who had spied on him and not confessed when given every opportunity to do so, would have been beaten within an inch of her life.

He still hadn't figured out why he could not bring himself to punish the girl. Something about the dignified way in which she resigned herself to her fate when he led her to the dungeons touched a nerve. He had led many servants to that dungeon, kicking and screaming, but had never had one accompany him silently, head held high. She had known where they were going and why, that had been obvious. She was no fool. It was her intelligence which caused her to be so inquisitive in the first place.

And, there was something about her, something unidentifiable, yet relentlessly familiar. He couldn't for the life of him figure out what it was.

His meditations on the subject were interrupted by Draco's return to the garden with a familiar-looking box. Lucius narrowed his eyes. Surely, he wasn't planning on... but he was. In fact, he had already released the two bludgers from their restraints and they both hurtled skyward as Rose wheeled about, nearly losing her seating. He chuckled against his will, thanking Merlin that Draco hadn't been his flying instructor.

Draco was back on his broom in an instant, soaring back up to where Rose was trying like mad to outmaneuver the two ferocious balls.

"Now, you have some incentive," Draco shouted, easily spinning away from one of Rose's aggressors which had decided to concentrate on him.

"Are you out of your fucking mind?" Rose shouted furiously, obviously trying to get back to the ground, but being forced ever higher by the other bludger.

"Just concentrate on avoiding the bludgers. You'll be fine," Draco shouted, grinning madly as he looped and twisted away from the furious ball.

Rose twisted and looped as well, but only because she had lost all control of the broom. She shouted for Draco who was beginning to eye her with concern, then shot forward, hoping to outstrip the rapidly-gaining ball.

Lucius shook his head, laughing. She'd never outrun a bludger on that old broom. Though it had been the best of its kind when he was at school, it was now mostly a conversation piece. She was using Draco's speed as a gauge for her own, but his Nimbus 2001was better than twice as fast as the decades-old Viperstrike.

She risked a quick look behind her and what she saw tore a scream from her throat. The bludger was ripping through the air, gibbering madly as it sped towards her head. Draco saw the danger and, to his credit, dove to help. He was too far away to offer much assistance, though.

"Rose, dive!" he shouted.

She took him literally, throwing herself from the broom and plunging with a long, dwindling shriek into the pond, scattering swans with a huge splash. By the time she surfaced, Draco had caught the two bludgers and was headed for the ground, a look of uncharacteristic worry clouding his young features. Rose spat out a mouthful of water to better facilitate the streaming diatribe of profanity she was directing at her flying coach.

Lucius Malfoy, for his part, was leaning on the railing, long hair obscuring his features. His shoulders shook as he wiped away the tears of mirth that had formed at the corners of his eyes.

Intel Ewok: That was a really sweet review. Thanks! I'm glad that someone was as curious about those dungeons as I was. Do you really think everyone else was, as well? I smiled when I read that you felt you were right there with Rose. It makes me feel as though I did alright with the description. Hurrah!

Quietude: I would probably have appreciated your observations much more if you had been more vocal up to this point. You indicated that you had read both of my stories, that's 47 chapters worth of hard work so far, and enjoyed them, yet the only time you take the time to say anything is when you have a negative comment. That kind of behavior greatly colors my opinion of you and your comment. Your question was a valid one, however. If I understand you, you're asking me if Alex and Rose are separate-enough entities to have handled this situation differently. Yes, they are, but perhaps not in the way you might think. Alex knows enough to keep her cover until she has no choice but to blow it. Alex would never have given up her wand, would have fought, bitten, kicked, scratched, etc. to keep herself out of that dungeon. Rose would have done, well, exactly what she did. Lucius Malfoy's handiwork in the form of Thomas Marsh's injuries was terrifying because she'd never seen anything so violent, and she had no idea that he wasn't planning on doing the same to her. Then, when the corpse turned out to be very much alive, coughing blood all over her face, she freaked... as anyone would. By the way, as my own personal review, the 'shift' key is a magical little button which capitalizes personal pronouns and the first words of sentences. See ya!

Mary: Lucius is a pretty sharp guy. Rose got the bracelet when she first began her employment for the Malfoy household. It usually summons her to the side of either of the Malfoy gentlemen with a glowing light and a little warmth, but Lucius was proving a point.

Rycca Wolfbane: 'More intelligent than some and more creative than most.' I'll live on that compliment for a month! Thanks! I was really worried that you were unhappy with the plot twists. I'm not sure whether I'm happy about the chapter giving you nightmares, though. If it does I should tell you that I had a raging nightmare about it the night before I posted. That's my penance. Rose might still run away to Australia (That was hilarious, by the way), but Lucius could summon her back with that bracelet. Poor girl. She's a bit stuck. More on that in the next few chapters. Have you decided what you will do about Rougarre, yet?

Arabella Minerva: Perhaps I wasn't clear about that. He didn't punish her. He let her off the hook at the last minute. Really he was bluffing, just proving a point to her, though as I mentioned in this chapter, had she fought him on the way to the dungeon, she probably would have gotten her butt kicked. As usual, I won't tell you what's going to happen in future chapters (that would spoil everything), but I will say that Alex isn't finished with the Death Eaters, yet, so if you're hanging on for revenge, keep hanging. Marsh will be left there until Lucius feels that he's been punished sufficiently, meaning he could be there for a very long time. To answer your last question, I think that Lucius' level of concern for the person he tortures depends upon the person and how angry he is with them. I hope that Penny had a very happy eleventh birthday.

Silverfey: Wow! What a cool review! It really had me laughing. It's awesome that she got caught? You guys really are trying to get her killed, aren't you? You're right, by the way, this is why those two should never allow one to affect the other.

Lady Jenilyn: Hello, fellow groupie! Does this mean that your computer is working correctly again? Okay, okay. Sorry about the heart attack! Sheesh! I will reassert what I told Rycca, I paid my penance with a wicked nightmare about this scene. I have noticed the odd synchronicities between our stories, as well. It's bizarre. I don't believe in the supernatural, so it leaves me scrambling for an explanation. Literary geniuses... that's funny. At least, in my case. Don't be jealous of my Lucius and Draco. At least your Lucius is somewhat involved in your Draco's life. My Lucius has probably forgotten what his son looks like. Besides, your story doesn't focus on Lucius, so it's groovy to not concentrate on making him as deep as your other characters. Your Draco is very well-rounded (and hot in the sack, apparently). As for Alex revealing herself to avoid a little torture, I doubt she'd do it. That ace is staying in her sleeve until she absolutely has to use it. And, yes, I'm sorry to say that Lucius and company are more real to me than the people I encounter at work everyday. I hereby hold you to your promise about ickle Ronnikins! I want to see that little twerp squirm!

Fleur K: Thank you. How sweet! Yes, Lucius knows how to play the psychological torture game. And, as always, he's sexy when he does it. I'm glad that this chapter surprised you. I will do my very best to keep surprising you. If I get boring, just let me know. I respect your opinion.

Annie: Redundant? With praise? You're kidding, right? It is fuel for the writing machine. I'm glad that the imagery wasn't too grizzly. I try to steer clear of vulgar descriptions if I can because I always find them to be so distracting. Once again, your compliments have left me a bit speechless. You make me feel proud of aspects of my story that seem to me to be merely incidental. I'll have to read "Joyous Fatalism" sometime soon. It sounds interesting. Thank you for your kindness.