Why, in these past several years of Bellatrix so desperately wanting her master, had Voldemort never kissed her before?
She was positively delicious, he thought as he stared at the tiled wall in his shower. She tasted cold and crisp, like snow on an evergreen. Her body was lean and unforgiving beneath his hands, at once soft and firm, sinew over bone. She was beautifully cruel. He'd watched her torture and kill for him, and he'd gone a little hard at that. He'd nearly backed her up against a wall in the dungeons after what she'd done down there. And then, during the party, he'd watched her dance with her fiancé, and it had been far too much.
He did crave her now.
Voldemort shut off the water and stepped out of the shower, using a Hot Air Charm to dry his thinning, greying hair. He studied his face in the mirror above his sink and recognised just how unattractive he was. His face was marled and twisted from creating Horcruxes. He looked old. He was hardly handsome. But Bellatrix didn't seem to care about his looks. She didn't care about his face. She cared that he was her master, her lord. She clung to him desperately despite him being old and ugly.
So why hadn't he kissed her until now? It didn't matter anymore, he supposed. He'd done it at this point, and he intended on doing it again and again. He craved her now. He'd been in bed until two in the morning thinking of her, trying not to touch himself at the memory of her taste, of the feel of her beneath his hands. He did crave her now.
He had three wizards waiting for him right now, he knew. He dressed quickly in black velvet robes, and he slid on his black ankle boots of dragon hide. He made his way out of his quarters and down the winding staircase that led to the main level of Malfoy Manor. He stalked into the dining room, and the instant he entered, the three wizards at the table flew to their feet respectfully.
Rudy Lestrange had gone to school with Tom Riddle. He was plump and balding, but his sons Rabastan and Rodolphus both resembled him in facial features. They were both obviously his sons, with their long, thin noses and their full bottom lips. Rodolphus was seated beside his father, wearing robes of elegant blue. Across the table from the Lestranges was Cygnus Black III, who had also been a part of Tom Riddle's gang at Hogwarts. Bellatrix's father bowed his head as Voldemort entered the room, and he moved with an obvious creak as Voldemort commanded the wizards,
"Sit, gentlemen."
The three others sat down and looked very curious. Surely they knew that this meeting had something to do with Bellatrix, given who had been 'invited.' Voldemort sank slowly into his chair at the head of the table and folded his hands.
"I'm sure you have all been in many meetings together to plan a certain wedding."
"Indeed, Master," said Cygnus Black eagerly. "We are all very earnestly looking forward to Bellatrix marrying Rodolphus in June."
"Ah. Yes. Well. That won't be happening, I'm afraid," said Voldemort delicately. The room went deathly still as all three of the other wizards fell into a hush, too afraid to speak out against what Voldemort had just said. They all eyed one another in silence, their eyes wide and disbelieving, until finally - finally - Cygnus Black III asked cautiously,
"Master, may I inquire… may I ask… why? That is, what do you mean by 'it won't be happening?'"
"I mean to say that Rodolphus and Bellatrix will not be marrying one another. The wedding has been called off," Voldemort said simply. Then, reading all their shock and knowing he owed them some sort of an explanation, he drummed his fingers on the table and told them, "Bellatrix has, since her engagement to Rodolphus, become an incredibly useful - invaluable, I daresay - soldier in my cause. I can not have her distracted by the happenings of marriage. The intimacy, the possibility of motherhood, the emotions that come with attachment. None of these are acceptable side effects of marriage for her. No. She must remain wholly untied so that she can fight properly for me."
Rodolphus Lestrange stared at his father for a long moment, and then he turned to Voldemort and cleared his throat carefully. His face went white, and when he spoke, he sounded rather afraid.
"Master," he said, his voice trembling, "I do promise to… to use contraceptive spells diligently with Bellatrix so that there is no risk of… of motherhood. And I shall refrain entirely from intimacy, if that is what you wish. I shall leave her to her own quarters, if it will -"
"My boy, this matter is not up for debate," hissed Voldemort softly. "Bellatrix belongs to me, as a soldier in the war in which we are all now engaged. Are you really questioning my orders?"
He narrowed his eyes at the boy, who shook his head frantically.
"N-No, Master," stammered Rodolphus. "No. Not questioning you, Master. I just… it's only that I… I was so looking forward to being married, My Lord."
"Yes, well. To that end." Voldemort tapped his knuckles on the table and announced, "Agnes Selwyn will graduate Hogwarts in June. I have spoken with her father, just last night, and he would be delighted to match Agnes with you, Rodolphus. You can still have your lovely young Pureblood bride out of all of this."
Cygnus Black III looked absolutely stricken, but Rudy Lestrange looked quite pleased as he murmured to Rodolphus,
"Agnes is that lovely blonde with the bright green eyes; surely you remember."
"Yes, of course I do." Rodolphus pinched his lips and nodded. "If you bid me to leave Bellatrix to your ranks, My Lord, then I must do as you command… for you are my lord and master, and I shall obey you to the ends of the world. I am sorry, Mr Black, not to marry your daughter. I find her brilliant and beautiful, and I must say that I was very much looking forward to our days spent together as husband and wife. I confess myself incredibly aggrieved by my master's decision about Bellatrix. But this news of Agnes Selwyn is very fine, and I am pleased to hear it."
"You speak eloquently even in your grief, my boy," Voldemort smirked, and Rodolphus' pale cheeks went pink. Voldemort nodded. "I shall tell Selwyn to be in touch with you, Rudy. Work out a contract between Agnes and Rodolphus. As for you, Cygnus."
Cygnus Black III turned his face to Voldemort, pursing his lips a little and trying to hide his angry disappointment. Voldemort licked his bottom lip and said lightly,
"Fifteen thousand Galleons for the trouble of all this."
Cygnus frowned, confused, and his mouth opened, but Voldemort continued,
"I shall have it transferred into your Gringotts vault later today. Fifteen thousand for your disappointment and grief. I trust that is sufficient."
Cygnus' face lit up, and Voldemort tried not to snicker. Yes. He knew Cygnus Black's love language. Money. Cygnus stammered out some pithy thanks, and Voldemort just waved him off as he said,
"Everyone wins, then. Me most of all, seeing as I walk away from all of this with a soldier who's not distracted. And she really is my very best soldier, Cygnus. You ought to be very proud. Dismissed, all of you."
The three wizards rose and bowed their heads, chattering among themselves about what had just happened as they walked briskly out of the dining room.
Voldemort waited until they were gone, and then he pulled back the left sleeve of his robe. He touched his wand to his Dark Mark and Summoned Bellatrix through the ether, shutting his eyes and imagining her face. She really was beautiful, he thought. Then he remembered Abraxas Malfoy's memory of receiving the prophecy. He tried to recall the entire thing now.
'She who is most loyal to the Dark Lord is she whom he needs most of all… He needs her beside him, and she must belong solely to him. Without this most loyal servant, his failure is certain… Further does she creep, farther does he fall. Withering like winter without her he will be. She craves him in the depths of her being, and time it is for him to crave back. She who is most loyal to the Dark Lord is she whom he needs most of all…'
As he waited for Bellatrix to arrive from his summons, he thought hard about the prophecy.
He needs her beside him, and she must belong solely to him. He was trying to make that bit happen now. He was trying to keep her close, to speak often with her, to kiss her daily. He had just destroyed her marriage contract.
Without this most loyal servant, his failure is certain. So, without Bellatrix, Voldemort would fail? Other parts of the prophecy seemed to confirm this notion. Further does she creep, farther does he fall. Withering like winter without her he will be. So it was critical, then, that he get and keep her very near. It was not and option that she should drift away from him in any capacity now.
"Master?"
He looked up to see Bellatrix standing in the doorway of the dining room. She was breathless as she stepped inside, shutting the door behind her like the good little soldier that she was. She looked lovely today, brave and lovely in a black velvet dress belted with thick black leather. She wore frightening-looking black leather boots, and as she stripped off her velvet travelling cloak, her curls tumbled over her thin shoulders. She asked Voldemort,
"Is something the matter, My Lord?"
"I've just met with your father and the Lestranges," Voldemort said plainly. "You will not be marrying Rodolphus."
Bellatrix licked her lip cautiously and asked, "What reason did you give them?"
He considered snapping at her that he didn't need to reveal that information to her, but instead he pushed out a chair for her with wandless magic, waited until she sat, and said,
"I told them that I needed you to fight for me without the distractions that come with being a wife. I offered your father a great sum of money for his trouble. I offered Rodolphus a new wife. Agnes Selwyn."
"Oh." Bellatrix bowed her head and picked at her skirt. "Agnes. She's very pretty. He'll quite like her."
"Not half so much as he'd have liked you; that girl's got the brains of a parakeet," said Voldemort cruelly, and Bellatrix smirked a little. She raised her eyes to Voldemort and whispered,
"That's not nice, Master."
"Come now. You're hardly a nice witch, are you?" Voldemort teased. "You know that girl couldn't spell the word Transfiguration, much less pass a NEWT in the subject."
Now Bellatrix giggled a little, and she shrugged. "Well, she'll make Dolph happy, I've no doubt. She'll just nod and smile when he talks, and he does like to talk."
"So he does." Voldemort dragged his teeth over his bottom lip and promised Bellatrix, "I have very good reasons for ending this engagement. Important reasons."
"I trust you, My Lord," Bellatrix nodded seriously, and a tingle went down Voldemort's spine. He pushed himself up from his chair, and Bellatrix instantly stood out of respect. His eyes flew to her waist - her narrow little waist - and suddenly he felt something in the pit of his stomach, spreading southward between his legs. Want. Desire. Need.
He was craving her, rather severely.
"Bellatrix." He brought his eyes from her waist up to her face, and he saw her studying him with glassy eyes and full, parted lips. She was just as badly off as him. He stalked toward her, and something inside of him screamed,
Not here! Not in the dining room, you fool! Upstairs!
Voldemort snared his arms around Bellatrix the second he reached her, and he bent low, for she was so very small, so that he could plant a kiss on her forehead. She leaned up, and their mouths met, locking into a tight kiss. She snaked her arms up around his shoulders, and he broke away from the kiss to whisper,
"Come upstairs."
"Master?" Bellatrix pulled back and stared at him with curious eyes. He nodded and said it again, a command and not a question. No room for debate.
"Come upstairs with me."
Bellatrix blinked a few times, appearing very much in shock at the idea that the master she'd wanted for so very long was now suggesting that she join him in his quarters. But he didn't give her the luxury of time to be shocked. He snatched her cloak off the chair in one hand and took her wrist in his other hand, and he stalked quickly out of the dining room.
Author's Note: Well, well, well. Voldemort managed to get Bellatrix's wedding called off in his own diplomatic style. Much as I'd love to write a Christmas Lemon, I suspect I won't be able to update tomorrow, so thanks for your patience. Thank you so much for reading, SUPER HUGE THANKS FOR REVIEWING, and a very Merry Christmas to those celebrating.