Hi everybody. I know, it took some time but! Finally, here's the update. Life got in the way, you know how it is.
Anyway! There's a flashback, it's in italic.
Special warning in this one: rape, and it is SLIGHTLY GRAPHIC. If it triggers you, jump the flashback.
Disclaimer: I dunnot own HP or OUaT.
Enjoy!
Chapter XI.
Morning came sooner than either had expected. They were jerked awake by pounding on the door, and they exchanged a wary look. Regina didn't even try to understand why the wolf was in her bed, she turned her eyes to her bedside table, and sighed in relief when she saw the wand was still there. Maybe they weren't going to die today, then. After a short while, spend in complete silence, both women concluded the pounding was not coming from the door, but somewhere down the hall; and they just knew Bellatrix was awake. It caused Regina to sigh once again. She was not ready to deal with that, not without her morning coffee. That, and the consequences of the curse. It had hurt last night, but now her back was killing her, and she knew something wasn't exactly right. She'd have to check for an injury she knew she would find, and she wasn't happy about that.
"Well. Let's not make her wait any longer." She didn't want to go though, and the wolf could hear it in her voice. However, she wisely chose to say nothing, and followed her out of the bedroom.
Before stepping out, Regina vanished the wand with the flick of her wrist, banishing it to her vault. She didn't trust Bellatrix in the slightest, and was she to die; at least the witch wouldn't be able to hurt others with magic. At least she hoped so.
Finally in front of the door — the pounding had stopped — Regina took a deep breath and opened it. She didn't know what she expected when she came in, but seeing the older woman crumbled on the floor and crying almost hysterically was not what she had in mind.
Strangely, she didn't wake suddenly. It was a slow process, and she was, for once, happy not to jolt awake. That is, until she felt nausea and a terrible pounding in her head. She felt like her jaw had been broken, and touching the bone, she thought she might have been right. She had absolutely no memory of what happened the night before. She could tell it was morning, but past that, she was barely aware of her surroundings. She was on a bed that much was certain, and the walls felt familiar. She forced her eyes to focus in spite of the splitting headache, and narrowed them on the window, blinking the sleep away. Right. She was at the Mansion. The problem was now to know how she got there, because the last thing she remembered was waking up in the forest, screaming.
It all came back to her in a flash and she was frozen in fear, staring at the window then at the door, unmoving. She had had a nightmare, horrible as always, she had seen her eyes and it made her go mad. Worst, she had cast … Crucio, at the Queen. Her brain told her that basically she had cursed the mutt, but it hit the Queen nonetheless — and she knew that she hadn't missed, so it meant Regina had jumped in between, and she couldn't even begin to understand why — and she felt bile rise in her throat at the thought. When she had been jerked into this world, granted a second chance, she had made a pact with herself, and she had swore never to use this type of curse, except for self-defence. But this wasn't self-defence; she had wanted to curse the Wolf just so someone would hurt just as she did. She had reverted to her old ways and this thought alone made her shake. If she couldn't change, if she wasn't able to stop hurting those around her, then how could she, in all conscience, keep hanging on to life? Did she even deserve it? Of course not, her conscience told her, and she knew it was true. She didn't deserve it in the slightest and yet it was granted to her; and for this sole reason, she had to be better. She had to evolve, she had to become the person she had always wanted to be, and not the one they made her become. And still she cast that bloody curse like she was nothing than a crazy lunatic. She had issues, that was clear enough, and she needed to work on them, and soon. Azkaban had broken her mind even further, and she needed to find a way to repair what was violated. But people here didn't share her magic, and the task would be difficult.
She finally got up, trembling a little and swaying on her feet, before heading for the door. Closed. She tried not to panic, still fragile from her earlier nightmares, too clear in her mind, and she took a breath, looking around for her wand. It wasn't there, and when she tried to Accio it, it didn't come. She was getting angry, which was never a good mix when she felt afraid and vulnerable. She was trapped — and she didn't have to try to know the window wouldn't open — and it made her shake. She hit the door a couple of times, frowning when it didn't budge. She was muscular, and generally, after a few shoves and good punches, doors broke. But not this one. And if the reasonable part of her brain whispered that it was certainly because of magic, her impulse was to punch harder, 'till her knuckles bleed. And she didn't stop. The door was bloody, her fingers hurt and she knew if she kept going, she would break her hand too. But not the door. The situation was replaying a strange memory, and without even realising it, her brain was trapped in the past, and she became unaware of her surroundings, banging on the door like a mad woman, not caring that her bones cracked after a few minutes of the treatment.
~o~o~o~
Trapped. She was trapped, the door wouldn't budge, the windows were protected by some kind of spell, and she was left there, alone, in a room she'd come to hate. It was her wedding day, and she was still in her beautiful bride's dress. She hated everything about this day, she hated that she had to share the bed of a pig, that she had no escape but to pledge allegiance to a monster. He was her only chance, the only man who didn't feel threatened by her power, the only man who accepted her skill and rewarded her for it. Rodolphus wanted her to be the perfect useless wife, to bear his heirs, to take care of his house. But she was Bellatrix, named after the war, Bellum, she was a warrior and she wouldn't stay at home, ever. This place wasn't even her home. Her home was with her sisters. No, cross that. Her sister. Andy was dead to her, after she'd left without even saying goodbye, abandoning her siblings to the wrath of her parents. And Bellatrix had to accept the marriage, she had to, because she had to take off some steam, she had to protect Narcissa. And the Malfoy boy was maybe a git, but it was still better than the sadistic pig Rodolphus was.
She started punching the door with all her strength, nearly crying in desperation. But Blacks didn't cry. She cringed when her brain reminded her that she was a Lestrange, now, even if she didn't want to acknowledge it. In her heart, she would always be a Black, no matter what. Her fingers were bloody and the wood as well, but she didn't care. She only stopped when a backdoor opened, and she turned immediately, eyes flashing in fury at the sight of her husband. The word made bile rise up in her throat.
"Let me out, Rod!" She hissed, marching on him, trying to look as intimidating as she could master. He smiled in response, and it was sick, and it made her shudder in disgust.
"No can do, Bella-darling. You are my wife now. I ownyou." She wanted to scream, to lash out at him, but she didn't move. If looks could kill, he would be rotting. Nobody owned her. Nobody. "Think of your sister, Bella-dear. You don't want me to talk to Lucius, do you?"
It made the trick. She froze, her eyes going cold. Her sister was her weakness, and most of the jerks knew she would do anything for her.
"One day, I will kill you, Rod. The Dark Lord will give me your head as a reward." She smiled at her words, looking feral, mad, pretending, as always. She was starting to get lost in the part, though, as she could not help but imagining the delicious ways she would break her husband, making him beg her to kill him. "I will kill you and it will be glorious."
He was shaking slightly, afraid, and rightfully so. His wife was scary, positively dangerous, and he wouldn't go against her without an advantage. He thought about Narcissa, and the girl was the perfect way to make his wife obey. He knew it. What he didn't know, was how later, it would also cost him his life.
"You will do as I say, or sister-dearest will be …" He raised his eyebrows, making her understand his meaning, and she understood all too well. She had bargained with the Dark Lord, offering herself to him in exchange having the insurance he would not make his sister a Death Eater. But the Lestrange family had money, and power, and the Dark Lord might listen to Rod in exchange for a few more galleons. War cost money, and Bella knew it. She nodded, then, barely, trying to bottle her anger and disgust, and watched him walk to her with dull eyes.
He grabbed her and she didn't react, letting him throw her on the bed. He ripped her dress — and she wondered why he didn't simply cast a spell — and she had to fight off bile as he forced himself on her. It lasted for ages — no, he just couldn't have the good grace to be a premature ejaculator — and by the end of it, she could taste vomit in her throat. She thought about her sister, and tried to make herself believe it would protect her. This was how she endured it, night after night, even if her all being was screaming for his blood. Oh, how she wanted to slit his throat.
In truth, in that moment, something broke inside her and she knew, unconsciously, she would never get it back.
~o~o~o~
She found herself crying hysterically on the floor, foots away from the door. She had no idea how she got there, she didn't even remember collapsing on the floor. She cradled her head in her bloodied hands, and sobbed, shoulders shaking because of the force of her tears. Around her, she could hear the wood crack. A vase broke, sending shards everywhere, and she didn't even realize the door was opened until she felt strong arms around her.
She was dumbstruck, standing right by the door, unbelieving. The sight was just too surprising for her to react, and she froze, staring at the broken witch in front of her. Her mind was racing, trying to figure out how she went from pounding on the door to crying on the floor. She noticed the state of her hands and frowned. The skin was soaked in blood and the bones seemed broken, and yet it obviously wasn't the reason of Bellatrix' distress. She shook her head a little, turning to look at Red, visibly stunned. The Wold just shrugged, and she looked at the witch once more, slightly biting her lip.
She had no doubt she could have stayed like that for ages, staring, but she heard the wood crack and felt the room alive with energy. It wasn't a good sign, and she turned again, facing the Wolf.
"Get out. Now." There was a certain urgency in her voice and Ruby didn't question it, leaving immediately and closing the door behind her. Without sparing another second, Regina walked to the dark woman, jumping in surprise when the vase exploded. She waved her hand in reflex, protecting both women from the shards, and dropped to her knees, wincing ever so slightly, before wrapping her arms around Bellatrix' small frame, and pressing her into a comforting embrace.
"Calm down. You have to calm down Bellatrix. It's going to be okay." She whispered in her ear and the woman just cried harder, making Regina frown. She sucked at those things, but seeing the impossibly strong woman in such a state made her feel strange, and she didn't want to let it continue. She would rather see her crazy and alive with madness than crying on her bedroom floor. The act in itself just didn't look normal and she couldn't help but think that maybe, Bellatrix wasn't everything she wanted them to believe she was.
"Bella, breathe. Just breathe." The nickname came naturally and she didn't question it. It seemed to work, just a bit, because her breaths were becoming less laboured. She was tracing soothing circles down her back now, keeping her as close as she could. She tried to remember what she did to calm down Henry after harsh nightmares, and it all came naturally, once again.
"You're doing great, darling. Breathe. It'll be fine." Her words, her actions, seemed to finally calm the other woman down, and she stopped sobbing, silent tears running down her face. The magic that saturated the room cleared out, and Regina breathed better. Accidental magic was the most dangerous kind of all, she knew that all too well. Slowly, she took Bellatrix' wrists and forced delicately her hands away from her face. She had blood on her hands now, but she didn't care. She took a look at the damage, refusing to look up at the woman's face for now, even though she felt her gaze burning holes into her skull.
"Oh, darling." She breathed, eyebrows rising at the state of her fingers. It was worst that she had originally thought. She bit her lip in concentration, letting one hand hover broken fingers. A soft white light engulfed the abused skin, after a few seconds, everything was good as new. She would have to wash the blood away, of course, but the bones weren't broken anymore. "There." She smiled slightly, and finally, lifted her gaze to meet Bellatrix'.
Her breath caught in her throat as she took in the older woman's appearance. She never doubted the witch was gorgeous, but in this state of distress, she looked breathtakingly beautiful. Even with those tears streaming down her cheeks, she looked younger than ever. She couldn't move, frozen in place by the brown orbs, looking directly into her eyes. Slowly, as slowly as she could, she lifted her fingers and went to wipe some tears of her cheeks. She bit the inside of her cheek, incapable of diverting her gaze. Her eyes were mesmerizing, filled with incomprehension, relief, fear, pain, and something else, something she didn't understand. The endless flow of tears seemed to finally reach its limits, and if the woman's eyes were still watery, no more spilled. She stared, and stared some more, caressing softly the skin of her cheeks, with both her thumbs. Slowly, she let her fingers move across her face, catching some of the dark curls and pushing them back into her mane, gaze never leaving hers.
She didn't know how it happened, or why, but suddenly she felt sweet lips upon her own, and she closed her eyes.
It just happened. Her hand brought shivers down her spine, and a moment later, she caved and kissed her. It was an impulse, it made no sense, and yet the woman had showed her such kindness she didn't know what else to do. The night before, she had tortured her, and still the Queen had healed her fingers and wiped her tears away. She had successfully vanquished her panic-attack — and only her sister had been able to do that — and she seemed to genuinely care. So she kissed her, and she did so sweetly, because in her world it was the only reaction she could master without thinking.
Her lips were soft, pleasant, and she kissed her with more passion, sighing when the other woman responded to her kiss. It took a moment — she must have been surprised — but she did nonetheless, and it was all Bellatrix needed. Strangely enough, she felt safe around the younger woman, she felt safe so close to her and into her embrace. She began kissing her more desperately, stealing the breath from both their lungs, and only backed down when breathing became an imperative. She pulled back a little, reopening her eyes and staring into the sweet amber of Regina's. She felt vulnerable, suddenly, and she turned her head away, hiding beneath her hair. She shivered when feeling fingers grasp her chin, and forced her head back here it was.
"Don't turn away from me, Bella." The smile on the Queen's face was breathtaking, and she couldn't help but returning it. Long gone was the memory of her husband.
"Are you feeling better, darling?" She nodded, slightly, and took a long breath, settling her nerves once and for all. It was nice, she thought, to be able to act without the mask. It was nice to feel shy, and vulnerable, and not be afraid of what Regina might do against her. It was nice to trust someone, for a change. It was nice to finally be herself. And the voice in her head telling her it was a bad idea could go fuck itself.
"Thank you, Regina." The small smile that graced her lips meant everything, and Bellatrix let go of a breath she didn't know she was holding. She nodded to herself, and went to kiss her again, much more chastely, slowly, savouring the feeling of her soft lips against hers. It felt good, to be so close to someone. She pressed her forehead against the Queen's, sweetly, and closed her eyes once again, feeling more peaceful than ever before.
"Why did you do this to your hands, Bella?" She knew this would happen, she knew Regina would ask, and she felt she owed it to the woman to answer her. Maybe finally telling someone would make her feel better about it.
"I don't like being locked up." It was mumbled, but she knew Regina understood. She felt tense up, and so she lifted her face, wanting to tell her that she didn't blame her, that it wasn't her fault.
"I'm sorry." The Queen said, nonetheless, and Bellatrix found herself nodding. She bit her lip, staring into beautiful eyes.
"I hurt you." It was more a statement than a question, but Regina nodded all the same, and Bellatrix felt shame wash over her. She dropped her head in disgrace, and closed her eyes tightly. "I hurt those around me, that's what I do."
"I know." It wasn't just said to say it, the dark woman could feel that indeed, Regina knew. Maybe because it was what she did as well. She was starting to realize she had much more in common with the woman than she originally thought, and maybe it was why she felt so comfortable around the younger witch.
"I'm sorry." This time, it was Bellatrix, and Regina lifted her head once again, her fingers hot against her chin. She looked into those eyes and shuddered, wanting nothing more than collapse and apologise until her vocal cords bled, for hurting her. "I'm so sorry, Regina." She looked close to tears again, and the former Mayor shook her head, and smiled.
"You didn't mean it, Bella. I know you didn't. You don't have to pretend anymore, Darling. You don't have to pretend anymore."
How could she have seen through her so easily? She choked on her breath and started crying once more. It didn't matter that Blacks didn't cry; it didn't matter that she showed weakness. For once in her life she felt good, better. She felt strong arms around her once again, rocking her into a soft embrace. She heard words whispered against her skull and felt kisses against her dark mane. She felt tired, more than she has ever felt before, and she closed her eyes, letting herself go.
"Come on, let's get you to bed. You're exhausted." She nodded and didn't fight when the younger woman forced her up, as useless as a puppet. She let her lead her back to bed, and slipped under the covers, sighing slightly. She felt the bed move, and opened her eyes to see the Queen stand back up, and her hand went to catch her wrist, big eyes staring up at her, filled with fear.
"Don't leave me, please. Please don't leave me alone. I don't want to be alone anymore." She was feeling so very tired, tired of fight, of pretending, of everything. She saw Regina nod, and she sighed in relief. The bed moved once again and the Queen propped herself against the head of the bed, slipping under the covers as well. Instantly, Bellatrix went to put her head on her thigh, and closed her eyes, grasping the woman's clothes between her fingers, not wanting her to leave. She felt fingers slip through her unruly hair, and fell asleep, soothed by the tender caress.
So yeah, a little angsty perhaps, but I did warn it wasn't going to be all fluffy. But after all, Bellatrix needed to break down, don't you think?
Please, do share your thoughts about the chapter, it helps me be better.
'till next time! (and I promise, it won't be as long as this time).