Written for Quidditch League, Round 3
Team: Holyhead Harpies
Position: Beater 1
Main Prompt: Write about someone asking for forgiveness.
Optional Prompts: Regret / Relief / Impatient
Lyric Used: I know who I married
Word Count: 1261
Warning: Murder/ spousal abuse (mental)
Breaking Point
"You should cut your hair," she said, glancing at him over her shoulder. "You look ridiculous with it long."
Rodolphus surrendered immediately to the sinking feeling in his stomach. It was familiar, if unwelcome. He'd hoped they'd have a better night.
"I'm not Rabastan, Bellatrix," he sighed, running a hand through his hair. It wasn't overly long—certainly not Malfoy long—but that never stopped his wife from criticizing him.
Or comparing him to his brother.
"I know who I married," she sneered, tightening the corset around her waist. "More's the pity."
Rodolphus just shook his head. What was there to say to that that he hadn't said a million times before.
...
"Why can't you do anything right?" she demanded, the fire flaring in her eyes a warning that Rodolphus could do nothing to heed.
He stayed silent, his hands shaking under the cover of the slightly too long sleeves of his robes.
"Why can't you be more like your brother?" she continued, clearly not needing a reply from him. "Rabastan did amazing, tonight. You… you were an embarrassment."
Rodolphus nodded, and looked away, because really, she wasn't wrong. Rabastan had done much better than Rodolphus had.
Rodolphus had been told to keep watch, while Rabastan, Bellatrix and the others caused chaos and destruction through the small muggle village.
While the Dark Lord had praised their work, he'd passed over Rodolphus as he distributed his words.
Unfortunately, Bellatrix didn't. She loved to flay him for his failures.
...
"Do you take this woman to be your forever bonded?"
Rodolphus nodded, his smile honest as he replied, "I do."
"Do you take this man to be your forever bonded?"
The veil that had been covering Bellatrix' face lifted up gently, as though caught in a gust of wind. It settled around her shoulders, leaving her face finally visible to Rodolphus.
"I do."
The look in Bella's eyes confused Rodolphus. Why did she look so… angry? Hadn't she been pleased with the match? His father had been so sure of it when he'd delivered the news to Rodolphus of the accepted contract.
He didn't understand, and when he held his hand out for her to take, he could feel the tension in her body beside him.
When she recoiled from his touch as though he were poison, Rodolphus couldn't help but think he'd made a grievous error.
...
"Get your hands off me," she snapped, when he turned over in bed, his hand landing on her hip. "Don't touch me!"
Rodolphus pulled away, putting the usual space in between them. It was a large bed and the space between them felt like a gulf of hostility and hatred.
He wanted to snap back at her, that she was his wife for fucks sake, was it really so unreasonable that he wanted to be close to her, but he didn't.
It would only cause a row he didn't have the energy for.
He didn't have the energy for much anymore.
...
"My father told me I was to be married to Rabastan," she snarled at him, almost as soon as they stepped from the floo. "Not you! I would never have agreed had I known the contract was for you."
"I…" Rodolphus cut himself off, because what was the right answer to that?
He'd always been fascinated with Bellatrix, even so far back as their school years, when she'd only been growing into her personality. She was vicious, deliciously so, and her cackle entertained him unendingly.
A curl of regret began to wrap around his gut, and she shook her head at him.
"You don't even have the conviction to stand up for yourself. You disgust me."
...
"Rabastan—"
"I'm not Rabastan!" Rodolphus screamed, the tumbler of whiskey he was holding shattering against the wall and falling to the floor in a shower of shards and amber liquid.
She stared at him, eyes wide and shocked. Eventually, she sneered, "No. No, you're not."
He'd had it. "I'm sorry, Bellatrix," he spat out. "I'm sorry that I'm not him, that I'm not the one you want, but I'm the one you've got and… that's it. We're both stuck with this. It would be good if you could accept that instead of making both of us infinitely more miserable than we need to be!"
She opened her mouth to reply, the fire missing from her eyes for a change, but she stopped herself and turned away. "Stop whining, Rodolphus. You're meant to be a Pureblood. Pull yourself together."
...
"She came to me last night," Rabastan told him softly. When Rodolphus' glared at his little brother, Rabastan held his hands up in surrender. "Nothing happened, Rod. I would never do that to you, I thought you knew that?"
He couldn't deny that he felt a sliver of relief that his brother wouldn't betray him. He had no doubt that his newly wedded wife wouldn't even give him a second thought given the chance.
He huffed. "I don't know what I know anymore. She… she hates me."
"I'm sorry," Rabastan said, squeezing his shoulder. "Do you regret marrying her?"
"Of course I do!" Rodolphus exploded, throwing his hands in the air and dislodging Rabastan's hand. "I know that Father insists that the only reason to marry is to continue the family line, but I wanted—" he shook his head. "I wanted to marry for love."
"I know. I know you did, Rod. I'm sorry."
The fight left him as quickly as it had arrived, and Rodolphus sighed. "What do you have to be sorry for? It's not your fault that my wife prefers you over me, is it?"
...
She rolled her eyes at him as he walked into the room. She treated him as though she was perpetually hoping he'd be someone else, and always disappointed when he wasn't.
It made his blood boil a little more every time she did it.
"Where have you been?" he asked, his brow furrowing. He hadn't seen her for three days; not entirely new, but usually it was because she was on a mission for the Dark Lord, and Rodolphus knew that she hadn't been on any missions.
"None of your business," she growled.
"You're my wife," Rodolphus snapped, impatient to know where she'd been. He was tired of the way she spoke to him, as though he wasn't worthy of even the slightest respect. "Everything you do is my business."
She arched her eyebrow, even as her thin lips tipped into a smirk. "Finally growing a backbone, Dear? Too little, too late, I'm afraid. I was spending some time with a real man."
Rodolphus stared at her for a long moment. "Who were you with?"
"Wouldn't you like to know?" she replied, her tone teasing and cruel.
Her eyes were flashing with malicious joy. She was enjoying this.
"Who were you with?" he repeated, his question a demand and a plea.
"Did you know," she asked, "that Rabastan has a little birthmark, on his right hip?"
...
Rodolphus dropped to the floor beside her, his hand resting on her cheek as tears dripped from his chin onto her skin.
She was always pale, but now she was pale from the blood that drained from the slash on her neck into the thick, grey carpet.
It made her lashes stand out even more than they usually did.
"I'm sorry," he cried. "I'm so, so, sorry, Bellatrix. Forgive me. Please, Bella, forgive me."
He pleaded in vain, asking for a forgiveness that she was already too far away to ever grant him.