Lucius Malfoy pushed Narcissa onto the bed so that she lay down. She was now trembling uncontrollably.
"Narcissa, much as I am 'practised' at this particular art... it is not easy if you do not want me..."
Narcissa breathed in deeply, "No, I do want you, I do... I can't help being afraid..."
She trailed off rather pathetically, searching his eyes for some kind of comfort. He kissed her slowly and leaned back, looking at his bride.
"I am not going to hurt you," then thinking better of it, "... Well... maybe... a little," he said, raising an eyebrow before flashing her a wicked grin.
Narcissa closed her eyes as he kissed her deeply, lifting up her satin robe with one hand as he did so. He slid his had up the inside of her leg, parting them and positioning himself between her legs. Without any warning he plunged inside her, his back arching into her as he did so. Narcissa inhaled sharply but he kissed her again, stroking the outside of her thighs as he did so, gently rocking into her.
Narcissa's grip on the sheets beneath her began to loosen as Lucius began kissing her neck, his thrusts getting deeper, though still with perfect control. He brought one hand up and stroked her breasts, slipping his hand into the hollow her back, lifting her up to meet his lunges. Her legs wrapped around his back as she began rocking her hips to accommodate his length. She could feel a slight burning inside her, but was surprised at how warm she felt, being so close to someone. She felt Lucius' strokes intensify as he came, his full weight pressing into her as he collapsed on top of his new bride.
Narcissa was breathing heavily. She felt safe and protected with Malfoy still inside her, his body covering hers, but she was glad it was over.
Malfoy propped himself up on his forearms and looked at Narcissa. "It will get better... when you relax," he smiled and kissed her.
Narcissa, however, was not feeling it. She smiled faintly.
Malfoy looked at her seriously. "I knew that you would be terrified, Narcissa... that's why I made it quick. 'Breaking you in', so to speak," and he let another smile escape his pink lips. "But for now... I think I know just the thing to relax you."
Malfoy slid his hand down between her legs. Slipping inside her he began making circles with his fore finger and thumb. Narcissa's head plunged back into her pillow as she felt her legs begin to tremble. Again she grabbed the sheets on which she lay, though this time in rapture, pulling her legs upwards and jutting her hips out to meet his hand, pushing against him as she did so. She closed her eyes and moaned softly as she came. Lifting her head up off the pillow, her vision became blurry and she felt a wave of tiredness wash over her. That night Narcissa slept, wrapped up in the arms of her new husband.
Malfoy sat in a chair by the fire. It had been a few days since the wedding and still he was plagued by the missing cane. He had longed to question Fudge about any remarkable raids... but knew that it must be Fudge who had spirited it away so cleverly.
Why does he want it? he thought clenching his fists, But more importantly, if it is indeed a dangerous object, if it is tied to the dark arts, why does he not question me about it? Surely he would want to know whether it is merely an old artefact from the days of my father... or whether it has more practical usage now... He closed his eyes, Whatever the bloody hell that usage is! He leaned forward in his chair. No... it must be done now.
Narcissa was lying in bed. It was quite late, and she felt anxious. Malfoy had not visited her bed chamber for the last few days, not since the wedding night. She felt sure it was because he did not desire her.
No doubt he will arrange for us to sleep together once every new moon, or whenever I am most fertile, to ensure an heir... and then he will please himself with his mistresses no doubt! She put her head on the pillow feeling thoroughly wretched. She could hear Bellatrix laughing at her... and was suddenly jealous of her sister's freedom, her lack of ties, even if it did go hand in hand with her lack of morals.
She sat up and, leaning over to the edge of her extensive bed, she blew out the candle. No sooner had she done this, she felt a wind blow into her face, though one which was warm, gentle and perfumed with the delicate spicy flowers of a favonian breeze. She looked to the window, which had evidently been opened. By it stood her husband, his long hair rippling around his shoulders.
"Was the door not good enough for you?" Narcissa said in a low voice, trying to disguise her shock.
"I wasn't sure if you were asleep or not," he said walking over to her bed.
Narcissa sat up, reached for her wand and touched the candle by her bed, "Lumos," and it sprung into action, casting a rosy glow about the room.
"Oh... I think we can do better than that," said Malfoy, sweeping his own wand around the room so that within seconds it was suffused with the golden light of a hundred candles, each suspended in the air around the bed.
Narcissa smiled, feeling all the insecurity of before fade with the little flickering lights.
Malfoy walked over to a chest in the corner and lifted something from it. It was wrapped in a pale blue paper, and tied beautifully with a satin ribbon. He placed it on her feet and stood, watching, by the bed.
"I didn't give you a wedding gift, such trivialities undermine the ceremony. Consider this a marriage gift," he smiled watching as his wife picked it up and began to open it.
Narcissa held up the object from the paper, gleaming silver in the candle light and encrusted with sapphire forget-me-nots, it was an exquisite looking-glass. Narcissa marvelled, "For communication?" she said, smiling, "Perhaps it tells me how I look, like Snow-white's queen."
Malfoy did not speak.
"A foe-glass then?" she asked, not taking her eyes from the beautiful object.
"Neither," he replied, and, seeing that Narcissa was smiling in what could be conceived as a sarcastic manner, he continued, "It is not a joke. I merely... respect the classical myths, from which so much of our society was born." He paused, and for a moment looked deathly serious.
Narcissa spoke softly, "I do not deny that certain ancient myths remain relevant today. But really my mother just liked to read to escape her boredom... Though evidently she did not read closely enough, because Narcissus was a boy." She smiled wryly. "Perhaps I should change your name in a similar fashion, let me see... I am Narcissa from Narcissus... Lucius... that would make you Lucia..." She grinned broadly and for a moment she thought she saw Malfoy do the same. She looked again at the mirror, at her own reflection, bathed in a pinkish light. She grew pinker still when she realised that Malfoy was still staring at her, though not saying a word.
"Thank you, it really is beautiful."
Malfoy sat on the bed, "Of course it is... nothing I own is otherwise."
Narcissa could feel the warmth from his body and was suddenly aware that she was shivering. "Besides," she continued, "The original etymology of my name is quite different... Narcissus, the flower and the man, comes from the Latin narke, 'to sleep'... I suppose because he fell into an eternal sleep from looking at his reflection."
Malfoy let a smile spread across his lips, "Sleep?... Well, I don't suppose we'll be doing much of that."