Loyalty
Once the Dark Lord was done and finished with Sylvain, Lucius was called into the room. His first thought was Voldemort was no interior decorator; his second thought was that Voldemort looked like a monster. Literally; who had red eyes? And whose skin was so... abnormally pale?
Oh – and what had happened to his nose?
As if he was a Legilimens, which he probably was, the Dark Lord stepped closer and took Lucius's chin, turning it so that he was looking into his eyes. Lucius shuddered; and then he released him, quick as that. "Greetings, young Malfoy," Voldemort said softly. "What brings you here?"
"I wish to serve you, my Lord."
"Hmm." The Dark Lord let go of him and turned.
A horrifying thought hit Lucius at that moment.
What if the Dark Lord didn't want him to serve him?
Voldemort chuckled, a very scary sound indeed. "Do not worry, young Malfoy. You have many qualities – your reputation, as one – that will be useful to me when the time comes." He tilted his head, in thought. "Hold out your arm."
Lucius did as he was told.
"Do you swear your allegiance upon me, Lucius Malfoy?" Voldemort whispered, his wand hovering over the white canvas that was Lucius's arm. "Do you swear to serve me loyally until the end of your days, Malfoy?"
He did not hesitate, though a red alarm was flaring throughout his mind. He chose to ignore it. "Yes," Lucius Malfoy said, loudly and clearly, his voice resounding in the large room. "Yes, my Lord, I do."
Voldemort tapped his wand on Lucius's left forearm.
Immediately, there was pain. The room swam before his eyes; he screamed in pain, holding his forearm. Voldemort walked away from his new follower, unaffected thoroughly. "It is done," the Dark Lord said simply, and he left the boy there, writhing on the ground mercilessly.
This was Lucius Malfoy's first taste of the life he had chosen to pursue.