As he sat in the cell in Azkaban, Lucius Malfoy had never felt so cold or alone and he had never been so scared. Many people thought he didn't have a heart, a conscience or a soul but nothing could be further from truth, even though not a lot of people knew it. You had to be trusted by him for him to let down his walls to you. Otherwise, you'd never know
Only one person in the world hadn't had to earn that trust. Only one had he trusted from the very start and that was of course, his darling wife Narcissa Black-Malfoy. He didn't know why she had been so different for him from the start. It wasn't as if he had known he was going to fall in love with her. it wasn't as if he had wanted to either, for when he was young he hadn't wanted to lose any one
At that moment in time she was the only thing keeping him going, she was his oxygen… His everything, but she had been that for as long time.
He shut his eyes and pictured her face, the only one who had been there through it all for him. He pictured her crystal blue eyes which were so filled with love for him, and her long blonde hair which feel down her back gracefully. Every thing about his beautiful women was graceful. She had been a perfect pureblood since the day they had met when she had been five years old. She hadn't had out burst like the other toddlers. She had been so controlled. Much more so than her sisters.
She had never cared what he did as long as he had come back to her at the end of the day, as long as he held her tightly as she fell in to her dreams for the rest of the night, to hold her tight and tell her she was safe, and by him she was loved, cherished and adored, all of which she was.
Now he couldn't even do that for her.
"I am so sorry baby." He said to the air. He had to be with her, anger run through him.
They couldn't keep her from her side it was to cruel.
Not feeling the warmth of her skin was killing him from the inside and everything left that was good in him was being eaten up by his grief for not being by her side,
They hadn't spent an entire day apart since they had been wed.
She had been so beautiful and young when they had married.
So innocent and naicwe, and he cursed him self for thinking he had been good enough for her. She deserved some thing more than this. She didn't deserve to have to sit at home waiting.
She had had such a mind when she had been young. She had been deviate and she had been independent and she had been determined that she had never needed any mans help. She could have been anything. Done anything. Been anyone's.
So why had fate been cruel enough to lead her to him, when she should have been given a good man. Not an Order member (he wouldn't insult her by wishing one of them on her) but some one neutral in this whole darn war. Some one who kept his nose clean and she wouldn't have to worry about. Some one who treated her as she so deserved.
That was when he remembered that that had been him when they had first met. He had not been a death eater and they had challenged each other mentally, and then eventually when there passion had grown, they had challenged each other physically too. And she had, she really had and it had been amazing.
He had loved her as if there had been no tomorrow. He had encased her in his love and he had worshiped her, mind, body and soul. And she had loved it.
But then, he didn't know. They had aged. And he had been a world class fool.
And all the young passion they had had for one another had died. Not because they had grown bored of each other but because he had allowed it to died. Not her, he had been so desperate for fame when he had got in to the inner circle. He had wanted to be the best death eater.
And so he began doing things to show how loyal he was to Voldemort. But he had lost all the loyalty he had had for his wife. He showed her no respect when she deserved it so much.
He had begun going out all night, looking for whores who he was able to manipulate. He forgot how to make love. Only sex. Nothing more and nothing less. And none of them were as good as what he had when he had been with his Narcissa exclusively. No, that had been heaven. He just hadn't realised how truly lucky he had been when he had had it.
He had wanted to show to his master how cold he was, and how much he didn't need any one.
He had wanted to show how much he hadn't needed any one but him.
But he wasn't, he was warm, and he was red blooded. And he needed his wife. Only her. And their son. He couldn't be taking well to his imprisonment. He had always told Draco when he had been scared when he had been little as long as he had been close by things nothing much was going to go wrong for him or his mother and yet now he wasn't close, so did that mean things were going to go wrong?