Author's Note: I'm ending this story here since there's just not too much interest in it and I'd like to take a break from this ship for a while and write for some other ships. Thanks so much for reading.
"So," Rodolphus said quietly at the breakfast table, eyeing the lingering bruises on Bellatrix's neck, "if I were to pursue someone, Bellatrix, you wouldn't…"
"You may do as you please, Dolph," she said simply. "I'm sure the Dark Lord made the terms of my own situation very clear."
"He certainly did." Rodolphus touched his napkin to his lips, his face going pale. Bellatrix wondered what threats Voldemort had made to Rodolphus. Bellatrix had slept in Voldemort's bed three of the last five nights. Tonight they had a meeting of Death Eaters, and she would prepare for a mission fighting for her master.
Her life, she thought, was perfect now. She could serve her lord and master in every conceivable way, and he would bruise her and choke her and put himself in forbidden places, and when she woke in the morning, he would be beside her, kissing her forehead and smelling of man.
And she would kill for him, and run behind him, reaching for his hand, and so everything, she thought, was perfect.
Author's Note: I received a message from a reader that all of my Bellamort stories have become pretty much the same thing over and over again. Perhaps that's true. If it is, I apologize. I've written several million words of Bellatrix/Voldemort at this point. I think it's probably time for me to move on. This ship has been very good to me, and I think I'll try to find another pairing that is also really fun to write.
Thank you to all those who have read my Bellamort stories, from The Most Useful of Them All all the way to Not A Doll At All and everything in between. Maybe I'll be back to this ship someday. Not sure what ship or fandom I'll explore next, but I wish you all the best.