"Come along Demetrius." There were many things that had to be done before the celebration tonight. Voldemort had entrusted Vivian to take care of the party preparation. She had never in all her years had been assigned such a… an egotistical task.

"Are you serious?"

"Are you telling me, that you're too incompetent to do this?"

"No. No, I just. When do you want me to start?"

He was to celebrate his greatness, his evitable magical take over. The Deatheater flanks had been decimating rebel forces with little consequence. The magical world either stood with the dark lord or were killed. Any resistance would be their last regret. "Demetrius, leave that poor house elf alone." She scolded her son. He stood indifferent towards his mother. This was his recent act of defiance, his version of terrible twos. He knew he couldn't outright challenge his parents authority, but it he did find his own ways to avoid orders. He acted as if she never had said anything, and continued to prey on the creature. "Demetrius, last time. Stop." She had banished the house elf with the wave of her hand. He began to stomp his feet, sparks flying from his fingertips. She stood there waiting for him to cease with his tantrum, she couldn't get anything done if he was going not listen. Once he realized his attempts were fruitless, he fazed to his mother's side defeated. She hoped that he would grow out of this phase soon, his father had no patience for this behavior. He reminded her so much of herself when she was younger. She never wanted to listen, but she paid dearly for her actions. Demetrius exercised his defiance with an err of caution, his father was never to be challenged. Even Vivian could do little to gain her husband's favor. All she could do was defect the anger he would have for his son. The other day Demetrius had been ignoring his father, pushing his limits. Voldemort had become so angry at the toddler that he tried to curse him.

"Damn it. Enough." Voldemort sounded crossed. Vivian could see what was happen next, she threw her son in front of her body, shielding her him from the flying curse. She withered to the ground, she could feel the fiery burn slashed across her back. It took all the strength she had, not to cry out. Her son was now hyper aware of the situation. Something bad had been done to his mother. She stared at him, and him to her, knowing that he was to do nothing. Before anything could be said, Voldemort had her up to her feet, his hand firmly wrapped in her hair. "Obviously, we need to have a chat." He dragged her towards the next room, leaving their son behind. He dug his fingers into her wound, causing a sting that Vivian literally had no tolerance for. She was already ready to beg for forgiveness.

"I can't allow you to punish him like that." His fingers drove deeper into her back, it was almost as if he could hold her by the spine.

"Allow me? You're lucky I allow you to breathe after defying me."

"He's just a toddler. They do things to get on your nerves, its natural."

"It's natural for me to want to strangle the life out of you." With a wave of his hand, he had stripped of her of her clothing. "It's natural for me to want to humiliate you." He released his hold only to force her back against the wall. "It's natural for me to want to make you regret your existence." He held her face tight with his bloody hand, the other jabbing his wand in a place she had rather not admit to herself. Sodomizing her had not been his most recent form of torturing her, but doing several forms at once was his choice of late. Her only penance was her son's safety. She would gladly suffer thousand beatings just to see her son unharmed.

"Hurting him, hurts you."

"You want me to believe, it's about keeping me in-tacked? You take me for a fool?"

"Believe what you bloody want."

"Believe me, this behavior will end."

"Is the feast ready to be served soon?" All the cooks began to vigorously wave their wands. Several pots were stirring, vegetables were being diced. Vivian toured the kitchen, many of the waiting staff avoided her gaze. No one wanted to get her angry. She was carrying her son, trying to keep him from wreaking havoc before the dinner service. There was so many people attending Vivian wanted to personally check on the food before it came out. This party was a reflection of herself, things had to appear as perfect as she could get it. Things had to go along with little to no issues, otherwise her husband would be upset. Like murder everyone in the hall upset, so she had to see to what was going on closely. "Are people going to answer me, or do I have to resort to other means?"

"My queen, the first course will be served after the toast, as per instructions. Or would you like to change them?"

"No. What is the dress of the servers?" Quickly, several wizards and witches had lined up in back of the kitchen, wearing similar attire.

"Is it to your satisfactory, my queen?" Vivian ran her free hand across the blouses and ties of the nervous staff. Many shivered from under her touch.

"It's not me that you need to impress. The dark lord is the one to focus pleasing."

"We can change them, I know the dark lord prefers a darker…" She had raised her hand silencing the head waiter.

"Demetrius," she talked directly to her son, who was playing with her collar, "pick something out that the dark lord would like." Her son's eyes lit up, overjoyed at being included. Suddenly, their uniforms were transfigured into something darker, much more appealing. The women's waists were clinched in, and busts full from the corsets. The waiters looked dapper in the fitted black on black suits. Her son's choices were very refine for his age, much to her delight. "Good boy, Demetrius."

"Shit." A clanking noise from the other side of the kitchen had brought everyone's attention away from the queen and her son towards an overturned pan. A wench had dropped a pan of bread.

"Make sure, she stays in the kitchen. We wouldn't want her dropping someone's meal." Two of the kitchen staff shoved the girl aside and banished the mess from the floor. Vivian left the room, all gazes concentrated on the girl who dropped the bread, except two, who were intently stared at their departure.

"Why is this so tight? I can hardly breathe." Voldemort had insisted on transfiguring her gown himself. Apparently she wasn't capable enough to dress herself. He had grabbed her by the jaw so she had to look at him.

"Must you complain, always?" She had tried to speak but he had ran his thumb slowly across her lower lip. "Do you really need to breathe? Demons don't need to breathe as heavily as a witch."

"It doesn't mean that we don't feel pain. Suffocating is uncomfortable for everyone."

~~~~Waiting Staff

"I can't serve her directly." The head waiter turned around in confusion.

"Why not?" He questioned in a hurried tone.

"I…I just can't." She really didn't have a good excuse. There was several reasons why she shouldn't wait on the queen. Her biggest fear was if she recognized her.

"Well if weren't so short staffed today it would be different, but you being relatively new here, I'm not going to be granting favors for anyone. Just do what you are told."

"Yes, sir." He shoved the platter into her hands. She didn't understand why they wanted to be served personally when they could just summon the food. This was a party to display wealth and power, she had to remember that. She couldn't help but get nervous the closer she got to Vivian. Behind her jaded smile, there was pain that she was fighting to hide. She had made a similar choice when she was her age. She paid a heavy price to live the life she chose. She could see a little of queen in the prince. It was hard to believe that this little boy could be the key to this reality. She had been watching the both of them interacting, from a distance. The staff of this compound was privy to the secrets that happened from day to day operations. The queen was scary powerful, but didn't or couldn't reflex all of her powers. Voldemort had this absurd control over her.

"My queen." I placed the plate in front of her. "Ah." She had grabbed my arm.

"Could you bring a glass of wine?"

~~~~~~Vivian's POV~~~~

Something felt off when that woman quickly scurried away. Something instantly felt familiar, Vivian had almost forgot what she had wanted to ask her. She had touched her arm and she acted as if she had burned by Vivian, but Vivian didn't believe that she had hurt her. She haven't been feeling good since she was forced into this dress. All of this fake smiling could be the cause of this sudden nauseous. Demetrius was content with all the attention he was receiving, which was a relief on her part. Voldemort had been boasting well into the evening. This night had been up relaxation and living in luxury, something Vivian hasn't had since living in the underworld. The princess of the underworld, now the queen of the magical world.

"A toast to the dark lord." Voldemort smirked. Everyone raised their glasses, Vivian included, even though a different server had brought back water instead. Vivian began to choke, blood was all over her napkin. Voldemort shot her an angry look and dug his free hand into the side of her thigh. She probably transfigured her drink without realizing, or maybe it was her son.

"Do you want to be the reason the night is ruined?"

"I'm sorry. I don't know what's going on."

"Apparently not, you don't even like what food you had brought out." Vivian looked down in shock, her salad had changed into different forms of meat. The last time that happened, she was…was pregnant with her son.

"I need to be excused." She couldn't run out the room like she had hoped. She cowered in the washroom, her head literally engulfed in flames. Was she going crazy or was this really happening again? Was she truly pregnant once more? She knew that Voldemort had been pushing for more heirs but until now she had produced only the one, her son. "CALL FOR A MIDWIFE! ANYONE! NOW!" She yelled to no one in particular, she was in pain and there was always a nosy servant somewhere nearby.

~~~~Voldemort's POV~~~~

His evening was almost spoiled by Vivian's misleading antics. She had left their son unattended, he wasn't a nanny. But the boy wasn't fussing, he was actually entertaining his followers closest to him. A toddler yet, but so much more. As his son should be.

"My lord." He shoved his glass forward, the servant boy had replenished his glass. He waved the boy away but he remained standing there with questioning look in his eyes.

"What is your problem? Do you wish for death so quickly?" He was mildly annoyed to say the least.

"My lord, you don't understand..."

"No excuses." The man trembled under his glare, as they all should.

"There…there is rumors coming from the kitchen," the man gulped as his throat dried out, "about the queen."

"Where is she?"

"A midwife was called to a washroom on the other side of the compound."

"Midwife?" This news put a smirk on his face. He waved the servant away. It wasn't hard to figure out why a midwife would be called. She was with child again. Finally.