Note: This chapter is where the rating kicks in. There is some groping and some frustration, please don't read it if you are too young to do so, or if you are offended by such things. (NO underage hanky-panky, don't worry)
Chapter 6
Honeymoon
The new Mrs. Malfoy and her mother stayed in her room, bustling with her luggage for as long as they could contrive a reason to stay, but the appearance of Bellatrix, announcing that dinner was ready to be served finally drew them back downstairs.
Mrs. Black departed almost immediately. While stealing a few moments to speak with her youngest daughter she had been shamefully lax in tending to their numerous guests. She set off to make up for this. After Bellatrix went off to look for Rodolphus, the youngest Black was left completely alone.
No, not the youngest Black. Narcissa thought as she stood by the staircase, the youngest Malfoy.
She wandered through the front of the house, taking time to admire the beautiful decorations that her mother had arranged, and to steal a glass of punch. It took a long time to make her way into the supper room. Every few steps, someone new would take her arm, commenting on her lovely dress, telling her she had made a beautiful bride, or inquiring, as subtly as they could manage, what she would be doing in nine months. Narcissa answered them as gracefully as she could, but was relieved when she finally reached the main hall and made her way to the head of the table.
Lucius hadn't sat down yet. He was standing in one of the corners, speaking to his mother while his father and the tarty redhead old Mr. Malfoy had brought as his guest lingered at his side. Narcissa was struck by the similarities between Evangaline Malfoy and her son. Both had long, silky white hair and cool grey eyes. Looking intently at their faces, she understood at last the reason why the older woman's smirk had seemed so familiar- it was the same look she had seen on Lucius's face.
Narcissa had anticipated that the appearance of both Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy at the same event would be uncomfortable, but she was confused by what she saw. Rather than appearing angry or unnerved by his wife's appearance, Julius Malfoy was doing everything in his power to catch her attention and to inch closer to where she was standing by their son. Meanwhile, the redhead was annoyed.
"Ah, Narcissa!" Evangaline noticed the bride's arrival first. She broke her attention away from her son and extended an arm. "There you are darling. We thought you'd run off."
"No," Narcissa answered quietly, trying to avoid Lucius's gaze. She could feel his eyes on her skin, and she shivered to think of what was probably running through his head, "primal urges" indeed!
"You look beautiful, Narcissa," Julius Malfoy said- the first civil utterance Narcissa could recall his making in her presence. "Doesn't she look beautiful, Eva?"
"Exquisite," Mrs. Malfoy- whom Narcissa could never imagine referring to by a nickname- replied and turned a cool gaze upon her husband and his escort. "I'm hardly surprised. You picked her out, after all, Julius- and you've always shown exceptional taste when it comes to picking out little girls."
Narcissa shifted uneasily. Julius hadn't exactly been the one to, "pick her out", but she didn't think it would be wise to insert herself into a family argument. She merely voiced a quiet, "Thank you" and turned to take her seat.
Almost immediately, she sensed Lucius behind her. He pulled out her chair, letting her sink onto it before pushing it back to the table.
"Thank you," she said again, and then studiously ignored him as he took the place by her side.
"Is something wrong?" Lucius frowned at her.
Narcissa blinked innocently, "Should there be?"
"No, I…" he sighed, "Nothing. You seem out of sorts."
"Shouldn't I be?" Narcissa snapped. Considering everything that she had been through that day- everything she still might yet endure that night- it was audacious to even imply that this ill temper was a fault.
Lucius instantly stiffened. Any warmth or concern that had been in his features faded. "I thought that brides were supposed to be happy on their wedding day," he retorted coolly.
"I thought that brides…" Narcissa started to reply hotly, but bit her tongue. "Nevermind."
The rest of the meal passed in tense silence. Like the wedding, it seemed to race past in a blur. There was dinner, then toasts, and finally Narcissa and Lucius went to cut their cake, feeding each other tiny, tidy bites and ignoring the bawdy shouts from her horrid cousins to smear the confection in each other's face.
After the cake, Narcissa shared a dance with her father, then one with Lucius, and finally with Mr. Malfoy. She was going to beg a seat and another glass of wine when Lucius intercepted her at the edge of the floor. "Take a walk with me, Narcissa," he commanded, "There's something I want to talk to you about."
Narcissa wasn't sure how many more "private conversations" she could stand that afternoon, but she couldn't very well disobey. Grudgingly, she followed her new husband out into the gardens.
"How do you feel?" he asked when they had finally walked far enough away from the house to be alone.
"Tired," she answered truthfully, but swallowed the words "angry" and "frightened" which also sprang to her tongue.
Lucius laughed, "I can't blame you…but you can wait a little bit longer before bed?"
Narcissa did not take it as a good sign that Lucius was mentioning bed.
"Yes, though I expect I will sleep very well tonight," She said pointedly.
Lucius gave her an odd look, but continued, "What I mean is- it might be a little longer before you're able to rest. I have a surprise for you."
"Oh, what is that?" Narcissa asked, already knowing what he was going to say.
"I'm going to take you on a little trip," He announced and waited for her reaction. Receiving none, he pressed on, "Have you ever been to Paris, Narcissa?"
"Of course I've been to Paris!" she answered haughtily. She was the blue-blooded aristocrat, after all!
"Oh," he said, sounding faintly disappointed, "Well, we're going to go again. I thought it might be a nice opportunity for us to spend some time alone together," he explained, unwittingly copying her mother's words.
The similarity was not lost on Narcissa, "We're alone right now," she pointed out.
"This isn't what I mean," Lucius said with growing annoyance.
"What do you mean?" Narcissa asked sweetly, daring him to say it.
"I mean-" he started hotly, but was interrupted when his mother suddenly appeared through a break in the shrubbery. "Ah, Lucius- Narcissa. I wanted to tell you. Your portkey is almost ready."
He sighed, "Thank you mother. I was just telling Narcissa about her surprise."
"Oh…and did she like it?" Evangaline looked at her new daughter-in-law, her expression looking as though she could guess the answer.
"Of course," Narcissa lied.
Recognizing that there was no real way to avoid her fate, Narcissa allowed herself to be herded back into the wedding. She tossed her bouquet (which, predictably, Bellatrix caught), changed into soft blue travelling robes and met Lucius again in the parlour.
"Owl to me if you need anything, petal. Anything," Orion Black said emphatically as she placed her gloved hand on the pretty silver mirror that would port the new Malfoys to France.
Mrs. Black was crying too hard to say goodbye and offered a watery hug instead. When she finally drew away, Lucius clasped Narcissa's hand, and then took out his wand.
He tapped the portkey once. Then, with the sensation of a hook catching around her navel and yanking her through space, Narcissa was drawn into the spell. In spite of her worries, she was grateful for Lucius's fingers curled around her own. It was a long trip to France, and she got portsick quite easily.
Finally, just as nausea was about to overwhelm her, her feet made contact with a very deep plush rug. Feeling woozy, Narcissa stumbled as she met the ground, but Lucius's arms were around her in an instant, once again enveloping her in his masculine strength and heat.
Exhausted, disoriented, and feeling slightly ill, it was all too tempting to stay exactly where she was- her head resting on his chest, and her body held aloft by his powerful arms. She felt his breath on her neck as he leaned forward, "Narcissa are you feeling okay?"
She mumbled "yes" and nodded her head. Her stomach was starting to settle. It usually only took a moment to feel better.
"Perhaps I should get you to bed."
That was the wrong thing to say.
Like a switch had been flipped, the easy languor left Narcissa's body. She stiffened and leapt out of his arms- careening into the registration desk of the very posh hotel where they had reappeared.
Narcissa winced as an expensive-looking vase wobbled and then crashed to the floor. The wizard behind the desk arched a brow. "Monsieur and Madame Malfoy, I presume," he said in thickly accented English.
Lucius nodded, sighing.
"Lune de miel," the wizard said dryly, "You have that look."
It was only a few moments before Lucius and Narcissa were checked in. Their bags had been sent ahead, and were waiting for them in their room. "Not a suite?" Narcissa asked, surprised. After a week filled with extravagances, she had half-expected whomever booked the lodgings to reserve a floor, or perhaps the entire hotel.
"Oui, seulement une chambre," The wizard said, dropping briefly back into French as his annoyance grew, "We find that newlyweds don't usually require much space."
Narcissa felt a shiver of misgiving as she followed her husband to their chamber. As promised, it was a single room, though appointed with every luxury they could desire.
The focal point, of course, was a huge, silk-covered four-poster swathed with gauzy netting and silk. There wasn't any sofa, but two comfortable looking chairs were placed before a cheerfully burning fire. There was a writing desk, an armoire and a dresser. A pair of frenchdoors led to a large balcony and through another opening was an enormous bathroom.
Narcissa hadn't seen a larger tub since the last time she had sneaked into the prefect's bathroom at Hogwarts. It was surrounded by a marble ledge and faced a huge window which, though undoubtably charmed against anyone looking in, displayed a glittering panorama of the Parisian
cityscape.
"Oh!" she exclaimed as she drank it all in. She hadn't lied earlier. She'd been to Paris before a dozen times, but it was never like this. She'd always being herded from house to house of her stuffy relatives, or accompanying her mother to fittings for gowns that her family really couldn't afford. She'd never seen the city in style.
"Do you like it?" Lucius asked, more eager than he cared to admit to hear just one word of approval to fall from her lips.
He couldn't understand her metamorphosis. He didn't expect her to act like a typical bride by any means, but Lucius had dared to hope that she might show a little warmth towards him, and quite frankly he expected a certain degree of civility. His bride had seemed perfectly amiable before the wedding. For his sake, he hoped Orion Black wasn't craftier than he had given him credit for – he hoped Narcissa's icy, aloofness was just a result of overtiredness and stress, and not the true character of his new wife.
"Narcissa?" Lucius pressed, when she stayed silent. "I am now permitted to call you Narcissa, aren't I?" he checked churlishly, despite the fact he had been doing so all afternoon. His voice was dripping with sarcasm. If Narcissa wanted to play games, then so be it.
"Of course," she mumbled. "And, it is a very nice room," she added softly.
Lucius looked around the lavish surroundings, which were impressive even by Malfoy standards. His lip curled in a sneer as he hissed the little word 'nice' angrily beneath his breath. If Narcissa heard him she didn't let it show. She just stood like a little statue, her eyes downcast and her mouth pinched in a small thing line as if she was waiting for something unpleasant to occur- a dental appointment, or a potions exam, Lucius wasn't sure that he had ever felt so insulted before in his life. He rolled his eyes irritably and loosened his cravat. He needed a drink. Fast.
Lucius poured himself a glass of Scotch, then offered Narcissa anything she wanted. He was unsurprised when she politely refused. Rebuffed again, he sat down in one of the fireside chairs and drank half the contents of the glass in one quick gulp. He knew that he should really take the situation in hand before he lost his tempter. He didn't want to inflict that on Narcissa only a few hours into their marriage.
He glanced across the room at his young wife. She was still hovering over by the door. "Are you planning on staying there all night?" he drawled coldly. It was the calmest response to her provocation that he could manage.
"Perhaps," came her tart, childish reply.
Lucius was about to snarl at her when he saw her bite her lip. He prepared to launch into a tirade against this and each of her other quirky un-Malfoy-esque habits when she did it again, and it finally struck him. She was nervous – in fact, she seemed poised to have a fully-fledged panic attack if he could judge by the way that she was chewing her bottom lip!
He leant back in his chair and let the majority of his anger slip away. He would have to find a way to set her at ease, although, that was probably easier said than done; he wasn't entirely sure what had her so rattled and he doubted she was about to tell him.
"Come and sit down, Narcissa," He said, his voice was a good deal softer than it had been before. She looked like she wanted to resist his invitation, but couldn't find a plausible excuse to use, and so was forced to join him. "You seem a little tense," he murmured, knowing that the words would surely only make her tenser, but they were the only thing that he could think of to say. He watched as she visibly stiffened. "Perhaps you'll feel better after a good nights sleep?" he sighed, deciding he wasn't about to get anywhere fast.
"Pardon?" Narcissa gasped. Lucius frowned at her, swirling the remains of his Scotch around the glass.
"Go to bed. We'll talk in the morning," Narcissa looked from Lucius to the bed and back to Lucius again.
"And you'll sleep…?"
"Here," he snorted, finishing off the glass, "or the bath looked rather comfy," he drawled.
..ooOOoo..
He hadn't actually been serious- though Narcissa obviously did not share his sense of humor! Cursing under his breath, Lucius tossed to his side in the porcelain tub, making a futile attempt to get comfortable while he tried to unravel his new wife's mind. He thought that he understood women. He'd prided himself on it- but Narcissa Malfoy was an absolute mystery.
Lucius had finally convinced her that it was time to sleep, waited as she selected a nightgown (a long, prudish garment no doubt meant to remind him of the promise he had made to Orion Black), and then met her stare when she shot him a disapproving glance.
"Would you mind Mr. Malfoy?" she said, nodding her head toward the bathroom. "I'm going to change my robes."
Of course, he hadn't intended to stay and watch her change. Nevertheless, it was on the tip of his tongue to tell her that yes he did mind, and that she certainly didn't have anything that he hadn't seen before - or, at any rate, that he wouldn't see again on a minimum of a thrice weekly basis beginning the day she turned eighteen- but he decided that it was better to indulge her for the time being.
"I'll go wait in the bath," he announced, to her palpable relief. He meant it as a favour- but his only reward was a locking charm- and he had left his wand outside! Narcissa hadn't even allowed him pillows. After nearly an hour of waiting to be released, he was reduced to wadding up towels to cushion while he slept his wedding night away in the tub.
The little chit had better be worth it! Lucius thought furiously as he stared out into the Parisian cityscape. From the window, he could make out the silhouette of the Eiffel Tower rising above the hip-roofed buildings and, further in the distance, see the lights of La Defense. It was a beautiful view- a view meant to be shared, though that seemed very unlikely to occur.
The source of Narcissa's worries was rapidly becoming clear to him. Either she hadn't been informed of his vow to her father, or she didn't trust him to honour it. The first possibility was vexing, and the second insulting. Either way, she was wrong. Just because she looked good enough to eat in the divine little blue silk robes and jacket she had been wearing, didn't mean that he was going to take a bite. He was a man, not an animal- perfectly capable of controlling his lust.
Did he lust for her?
It was an uncomfortable question, but one that needed to be confronted. He liked to think that he was incapable of nurturing an attraction for a girl who wasn't even out of school- even if she did look years older than she actually was- but there was no denying that he felt something different, and far more satisfying, for Narcissa than he had her sister. Andromeda was physically perfect. Already a full-fledged woman, she had curves that engorgement charms couldn't match, mahogany ringlets, and eyes like green glass. She was flawless- and yet she had failed to capture his interest. He had imagined that it wouldn't be too hard to perform his duties to beget an heir. She was a beautiful woman, and he was a healthy male, but he'd always imagined their baby and not the process of making it happen. Whereas, with Narcissa…he turned over again, readjusting the towel behind his neck…with Narcissa, he wouldn't help and wonder what it would be like in the not too distant future when he finally made him her own.
She was a total innocent. He could tell from her kisses that she was completely untrained and untouched. The prospect of initiating her to womanhood was both thrilling and daunting. It was in turns pleasing and then torturous that he had so long to plot the seduction out. He would take her very slowly, kissing and testing every inch of skin on her lovely little body before finally making her his. He would show her so many kinds of pleasure…
"Lucius?"
Narcissa's voice called through the doorway. Overhead, the picture of the mermaid splashed off of her rock and disappeared, just as the door swung open.
"You weren't in the common room," she said, putting her satchel of books into the floor and stepping toward the tub. "Don't you remember? You're meant to help me study for my test."
"Your test?" She was right. He had forgotten. He had been so busy with Quidditch practice- or was it a business deal at Gringotts? He didn't remember- that it had completely slipped his mind.
"Kissing!" she reminded him. "Professor Cupid is going to be terribly angry. I couldn't bear to fail."
"You won't fail," he assured her. He turned off one of the taps- the one pouring cotton-candy scented pink bubbles into the tub, and then got out, lapping up the admiring way that she watched the water slid off of his leanly muscled frame.
"Lucius! You're naked!" she said in a frightened little whisper.
"Yes," he replied, and he would have reached for a towel, but didn't tie it around his waist. "You need to study kissing?"
She nodded. "I need you to kiss me."
"Where?"
She giggled nervously, "On the lips," she finally announced.
"But Narcissa, that lacks imagination," he purred back. "There are so many nice places to kiss."
She was wearing her whole uniform: robes, jumper, shirt, skirt, tie, knee-socks…He quickly divested her of the first two, and then rooted the tail of her oxford out of her skirt. Her breath puffed against his hair as he bent forward to kiss her neck. At the same time, he let his palms slide under the top.
He teased her skin, and then he bowed his head again, pushing the fabric away and covering it with his mouth.
"Lucius!" She groaned his name, grinding her hips against him again and again until his entire body was aflame.
He smiled at the sound, and then said strangely, "I don't think the elves needed teatowels."
Narcissa nodded as if she understood.
"Lucius, your mother wants baked beans at breakfast. Tell her that she can't have any."
"I will," Lucius promised, wondering when the Slytherin common room had gotten so dirty. Now they were standing there, naked, watching the other students play chess.
"Lucius? Lucius Malfoy?" one had asked .
"Lucius?" This time it was his father's voice, and he turned away, hoping to avoid it.
"Lucius?" That voice was very near.
"Lucius!" The voice was louder.
"Lucius you have to let me in."
He awoke with a start, flushing instantly as he recalled his dream. The real Narcissa was pounding on the door. "Lucius! Let me in! I need to go!"
It was already morning.
Lucius sat up in the tub, blinking and rubbing his eyes. Sunlight was streaming through the window. He must have fallen asleep after all- but it had not been an easy night. He could tell that his hair was wild, and he had a terrible crick in his neck. Worst of all, his body was still on fire.
"Lucius. I really need the lavatory!" Narcissa called through the wooden barrier. "Please let me in!"
"You set the lock!" he growled back tersely.
"Oh…did I?"
There was a moment of silence, and then a muttered incantation. Finally the door finally swung free. Narcissa rushed inside. She opened her mouth to speak, but Lucius had already stalked past her, keeping the door between them, and then his back to her, in an attempt to conceal lingering effects of his desire.
"Lucius?" Narcissa murmured timidly, loitering in the doorway.
"I thought you needed to use the bathroom?" Lucius snarled, so harshly that Narcissa instantly vanished with a little gasp of fright.
He waited until the door was shut (and relocked!) before slumping in a chair, trying desperately to will away the fierce throbbing that filled his body.
Narcissa's evident repulsion of him did go a little way to dent his ego and consequently dampen his lust. She was young. She probably didn't understand what desire was yet, he thought more charitably, and then sighed heavily. He was lusting after a child! Something he had never thought to do, but this realisation did at least kill off the remnants of his need. He would at least be able to walk across the room, (albeit with his hands jammed firmly in his pockets,) without his condition being too obvious now.
Lucius listened as Narcissa unlocked the bathroom door, made a grab for the complimentary copy of the previous days newspaper, and then arranging it carefully over his lap. He made a show of reading it intently when his wife cautiously re-entered the room.
"You slept well?" he sneered, unable to hold his tongue, unwilling to even look at her.
"Yes, thank you," she replied quietly. "The bed was very comfortable."
Lucius's head snapped up, was she goading him deliberately? Judging from the sad look in her eyes he didn't think so. He shook his head wearily. He would find some way to cheer her up; he couldn't stand seeing her so unhappy, but he was in no state to try and soothe away her fears at present.
"I'm going to take a bath," a cold bath, he amended silently, "unless you've now commandeered that room too?" He stood, hands in his pockets, and glared at her.
Narcissa blushed and shook her head meekly, watching Lucius march into the bathroom, shutting the door firmly behind him. Once she could hear the steady sound of running water Narcissa sat down on the edge of bed. She had succeeded wonderfully in keeping Lucius at arms length, she reflected, but she had been rather less than tactful in doing so.
She hadn't meant to make him mad. Her stomach turned over as she thought of the contempt in his eyes- he had barely been able to look at her! He had also seemed almost in pain. Narcissa cringed a little as she thought about the night he must have spent in the bathtub. She should have at least given him a few pillows and a blanket. Her cheeks coloured deeper. She was behaving like a child. She wouldn't be able to stop Lucius from- from doing whatever it was that he wanted to do to her forever, but maybe she could keep him at bay until she was a little more prepared?
Narcissa must have been sat thinking for longer than she'd imagined, because the bathroom door reopened and Lucius strolled out – wrapped in nothing more than a towel.
"Lucius!" she squealed, a wave of panic washing over her. "You're naked!" And dripping wet, she noted, a vague curiosity tugging at her senses. Lucius simply raised one scathing eyebrow and indicated to the towel around his waist. "Well, almost," Narcissa muttered the correction, unable to peel her eyes away from the little droplets of water that were trickling down the well defined muscles of his chest.
"Well if you find it so repulsive, stop staring," he suggested with a sneer, picking up one of the suitcases and tossing it onto the bed. Her innocent gaze was threatening to undo the good work of his freezing bath. He was an idiot for forgetting to pick up a clean set of clothes!
"I don't- I don't find you repulsive," Narcissa whispered truthfully, finally managing to look away from her husband as he began search for some fresh robes.
Despite her very first assessment of Lucius, she was beginning to see him in a very different light, and she couldn't help but wonder how he thought any women could possibly find him repulsive. Of course, Narcissa thought woefully, any other woman probably would not have forced him to spend the night- his wedding night no less- locked in a bathroom!
She sighed heavily, and that, coupled with her shaky confession meant that Lucius's eyes were now watching her. She could feel them, focused upon her with an unnerving intensity.
"Narcissa," he began gently.
"Yes, Lucius?" She still didn't meet his eyes, but she turned her face toward him so that he could see that she was listening.
He sighed heavily and sat on the corner of the bed, his fresh robes draped across his legs while the rest of him remained gloriously unclothed.
"I think that we need to talk."
"Oh?" she muttered and glanced down at her hands. They were twisting nervously in the robes that she was wearing, leaving tiny creases in the silk.
"Yes. Now that we are married…" he watched her freeze over automatically and then he closed his eyes, taking a deep breath to fight down the frustration that rose in response. "Now that we are married…" he began again carefully, "There are some matters which should be made clear between us."
"Yes, Mr. Malfoy," she answered meekly. "Of course."
"You understand that you will be expected to bear my child."
There. He had said it. The uncomfortable topic that had hung between them for the past day was finally in the open. As he anticipated, Narcissa paled further, but he did not stop speaking. "I understand," he continued gently, "that you are still a very young girl who is hardly ready to…make that a possibility."
At last he saw a softening of her expression.
"Narcissa, I promised your father that I wasn't going to force you into anything before you were ready." He dared to inch a little closer, moving to the chair beside her. "And if a promise to your father isn't good enough- I'm making that same promise to you. Let's just…not think about this," he gestured toward the bed, "Until you're a little older- will that make you less frightened?"
The look of patent relief on her face spoke where her voice did not. Her body slumped as its tension melted away. "I'm…I'm very sorry, Mr. Malfoy!" she blurted, so sincerely that he almost laughed. He realized, however, that this would ruin the effect of his gentlemanlike declaration.
Likewise, he didn't think it would do to tell her that he was very sorry too- albeit for different reasons! Instead, he stood. "Well, I'm glad that we have that settled," he stated sincerely.
Narcissa bobbed her chin in agreement.
"I do want to be your friend, Narcissa," he said, turning toward the bathroom where he could change his clothes.
"Yes, Mr. Malfoy. I want that too."
He sighed and shook his head, "There is something that you could do for me, however?"
"Yes, Mr. Malfoy?" This time, the flash of worry in her face was very brief. She was starting to trust him- although he could anticipate already that it would be a slow process.
"Call me Lucius," he commanded firmly, but added: "Please, Narcissa?"
"Yes…Lucius," she answered. At last, he allowed himself a little smile.
"I'm going to finish getting ready. Why don't you order breakfast, and then we'll go out for a while?"
Narcissa did as she was told, ordering up a pot of tea, and a tray of fruit and warm croissants. After breakfast, they went out to see the city.
The hotel was located in the Latin Quarter, near Notre Dame, and they visited there first, before descending into the catacombs that housed the gateway to wizarding Paris.
Narcissa had been shopping in France before, but never with such reckless abandon as with Malfoy. She had only to comment that something was pretty before an order was given that it should be wrapped and returned to their hotel.
"Lucius! You have to stop!" she exclaimed after he had ordered a particularly fine, and outrageously expensive charmed mirror for his bride.
"Why?" he laughed. He enjoyed spoiling her. After the rocky start they had experienced, it was an exquisite pleasure to see her laugh.
"We'll spend all your money!" she answered in a scandalized whisper.
Lucius snorted in amusement, "Oh, you don't need to worry about that!"
"Well, perhaps not." Narcissa couldn't help but smile. She knew that she would very soon get very used to not having to look at the price tags of anything, to simply knowing that everything she wanted was obtainable...but abruptly that smile faded. Evangaline Malfoy's words came back sharply to haunt her: Lucius will give you anything you ask for- except his heart. "All the same…" she murmured softly. It was excessive. After all, it wasn't as if Lucius was a real newlywed intent on cosseting his bride. He was simply… trying to buy her good favour? If that was the case, (and Narcissa wasn't wholly sure that it was; he had seemed so genuine when asking for her friendship) she didn't understand why he was bothering. She belonged to him now after all.
"All the same, what?" Lucius chuckled, charmed by her resistance to being spoilt. "You really needn't worry about bankrupting me, Narcissa. I promise"
"No, I know," she conceded. "It's not that. It's just…just that it's me."
"You?"
Narcissa nodded, and then blurted out: "You already paid so much- too much thanks to my parents- for the wedding." She took a breath, "And now there's this trip, and all the presents, and I'm… well, I'm not really worth it, Lucius," she finished quietly. She was nothing more than a second-rate child-bride after all. Sighing, Narcissa stared at the ground for a moment before risking a glance at Lucius's face. She frowned, "Why are you smiling?"
"Oh, I think you are," he laughed, ignoring the question.
"Oh, but you're wrong!" she insisted, turning away so that he couldn't see the delighted pinkness that blossomed on her skin. Why was it that her steps suddenly felt so light? She wasn't certain that she wanted to know.
Lucius's face was suddenly stern. "I assure you, Narcissa, that I am never wrong," he said so severely that she froze, but her body melted again when his expression abruptly changed. He laughed at her again. "In any event, permit me my illusion?" he asked, taking her arm to lead her across a busy street to the exit from Rue Magique and back to Muggle Paris.
As a rule, Malfoy didn't like to mingle with non-magical folk, but he couldn't resist showing Narcissa the remarkable views from the Eiffle Tower and from Sacre Coeur. He loved watching her face as she took in each new experience. Although he was growing more worried than ever that it would be far too easy to grow quite attached to his little wife, he pushed the worries aside. They would only be together for a week, after all. When their honeymoon ended she would return to Cornwall. He would return to Wiltshire, and he doubted that he would see her more than once a year until she was out of school. Besides, he was laying a foundation for the future. He didn't want to share a child with a woman who despised him, did he? He had already seen from his parents' example how untenable such a situation would be. They were going to be friends...it was unusual for Lucius, but he rather liked the idea.
It was nearly midnight when they returned to their room at the hotel. Narcissa went into the bathroom to change, and undo her hair while Lucius loitered by the bed, gathering pillows, blankets, and his wand to hopefully ensure a more satisfactory night of sleep.
Narcissa finally emerged from the bath clad in a modest but pretty gown and matching dressing gown of pale pink silk.
"Whatever are you doing?" she asked, frowning at the pillows.
"Getting ready for bed," he replied, trying to sound happy about it.
"Oh, Mr. Mal- Lucius...you aren't going to sleep in the bathtub again?"
He arched a brow. "There doesn't seem to be another option besides the floor."
Narcissa flushed prettily. "Oh...I thought...that is...you could...now that we have an understanding...I don't...I suppose I don't mind if you stay in the bed?" she managed with difficulty.
Lucius took a steadying breath, barely knowing how to respond. Of course it was tempting- it would be heaven to spend the night on a comfortable mattress underneath a snug down comforter- but did he trust himself? Did Narcissa trust him enough?
"I could," he said slowly, "If it wouldn't make you uncomfortable."
"No," Narcissa answered tentatively, "You...you could stay on your side."
"Of course," he assured her.
"Well, it's settled then?" Narcissa's fabulous blue eyes darted away, and she hovered near the edge of the mattress while Lucius replaced the pillows and then went into the other room to change. When he re-emerged, clad in a pair of dark silk pajama pants, she was already nestled beneath the blankets. She had tucked one of them around her body into a snug cocoon, completely foreclosing the possibility of a canoodle.
Vaguely disappointed, Lucius extinguished the lights, and then climbed into bed beside her. It felt strange to be sleeping in a bed with another person. Of course Lucius had spent the night with women before, but this was somehow different. He had a very heavy sense of the future- that this was the first night of many- saturating the experience with a sense of importance.
"Goodnight, Lucius," Narcissa whispered in a quiet, yawning voice.
He liked the sound. He liked how, wrapped in her compact bundle, Narcissa curled up on her side. He liked how her voice came in slow, gentle puffs as she fell swiftly and silently asleep.
He could get used to this.
TO BE CONTINUED
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