Well, here it is; Chapter 2. This is where the story or rather the plotline really begins. I'll start by explaining the Bold/Italic difference because it's a different style that I didn't use for All Over Again. At the beginning of each chapter will be a mini-introduction of sorts by Narcissa, explaining and bridging gaps to allow the story to move at a slightly faster pace than AOA. I guess this because this story is more Narcissa's story rather than a Lucius and Narcissa Fic, and as I write, I always imagine her telling it in this manner, not enough time to tell everything of her life but the bits that she remembers, the moments and days that made her into Mrs Malfoy.
The other reason for this is the simple fact that I love the Lucius/Narcissa pairing and therefore loving Lucius as I do, could never tell a story where they do not eventually fall in love. In this chapter and indeed many that will follow, Lucius will be the villain, cruel and pitiless but he will, and this I swear, become the hero, despite his best efforts. So another reason for the intro from Narcissa's POV is to hint at the future and the love that will, in time grow between them from the hatred that begins.
Other notes to consider are the following.
There are quite a few OC's in this chapter but many of them will not play any further role in the story after this chapter, which is set in Narcissa's life in France. Therefore don't be too concerned about remembering all the French names and characters because, as I said, most of them we won't see again.
For the same reason, I warn in advance that there is a certain amount of French in this chapter. Most of the expressions are pretty simple, but I'll put a translation at the end anyway. Again, the rest of the story moves to England so this really is a one-chapter thing. As they are supposed to be speaking French all the time, I felt it needed some flavour of the language to give the right impression. Anyway the french bits will also be in Ittalic just to make things clearer.
Last but not least, this is rather a long chapter. It was planned to be long and then turned out even longer in reality but just like the other two points, this will be hopefully an exception. There is just so much that has to be set up now, for the later plotline.
I think that's about all so, please read, hopefully enjoy and if you want to really really make my day, review. =)
Luv ya
Lili
X x x x x x x x x x x x x x
Life is so often ironic. It is always the way. I cried that night as I did each of the six nights that followed, so that when the day of my departure finally dawned, my lifetime's reserve of tears seemed to have been spent. With that much dread and fear I looked upon this new life, so blind to the blessing being granted that my fingers trembled when I placed them into Madame's beautiful hands, and my heart ached painfully for home.
Yet as the years passed, time accelerated little by little, until the eventually the weeks flew by like heartbeats, each one escaping cruelly fast despite my best efforts to hold onto them. Those years were never to be forgotten; they were my time of innocence, a parting gift from my beloved mother before she passed away with relief into a better, kinder place. Her death was the only mar to my bliss, as yet the only shadow to stain my soul. The young are strong and my thirteen-year-old self was too innocent, too carefree to allow the sorrow to weigh her down eternally.
And so I grew, safe, secure and euphoric in my sweet naivety. No matter the fear and cruelty that clouded my annual returns to Black Manor, no matter the distance that grew as silently as a shadow between three sisters who had once declared themselves inseparable, the darkness could not hold me. My happiness was too bright for his deadly embrace to smother.
Life was for living, and under the lights of Paris and the stones of Beauxbatons, I lived it to the full.
The deepest, darkest plots are always conducted by candlelight and this one was no different.
The candle itself fought against the darkness with all its strength, as though determined to light up the huge panelled room and show off all the richly furnished glory. Tall, slim and proud it stood, rising out of the ornate holder's grasp. The silver vines curled and crept like snakes, ensnaring the pillar of wax like tentacles, moulded and gleaming and gorgeous in the flame's flickering glare.
A drop of cream fell and immediately cooled upon the walnut desk, but the three men barely spared it a glance, all their attention focused on the thick, stretched out roll of vellum they were bent over. The very quality of the material spoke of the importance of the business, the beautiful French script that decorated it so perfect, so minutely precise it had to have been copied by a master. Everything indicated power and solemnity, of old laws and absolute bindings.
The first man was almost a youth and with youth's decisiveness he did not hesitate. A single nod, a lilting smile and a gleam, dark and triumphant as he picked up the eagle-feather quill and dragged it swiftly across the parchment.
Then he turned and exited the room without a look back.
It was just turned nine, the most dangerous time of any day for any servant but none more so than the poor nervous souls streaming agitatedly up and down the marble steps of the Hôtel Belle-Ile.
The butler stood at the foot of the magnificent staircase. A tall, as imposing a figure as the huge, richly decorated structure behind him, he was the very best of his calling, the crème de la crème. Even he, however, could not repress the smallest of winces as a pale, trembling newest member of the staff flew past him and mounted the impressive golden stair at a frantic run, in answer to Madame's…dulcet…tones.
"Celine? Celine! Where is that silly girl? CELINE!"
Celine's face turned whiter still as the Lady of the House' voice echoed louder and sharper with each call, tripping over the hem of her robes in her rush. The butler felt for the poor lass, despite the fact that she had only herself to blame. Lateness was a fault that at a normal time, on a normal day, Madame would brush off with a flick of her perfect fingers. Mischance however had ordained that her tardiness would occur an hour before the first Ball of the season, and as Celine disappeared from view, Jacques couldn't help but shudder inwardly at the thought of the ear thrashing the unfortunate dresser would receive.
Sure enough, the painful silence was broken by the unmistakable screech of a harpy in full fury.
Ten minutes later and Madame de Belle-Ile was already regretting her burst of temper but not for the world would she show any sign of remorse. Instead she ignored the charred and smoking curtains that hung around the exquisitely carved four-poster with all her typical haughty contempt and the only word she spoke was a calm demand that Celine should bring out Miss Charis' and Miss Narcissa's robes to her own quarters. She would dress them herself. With a sigh of profound relief Celine obeyed, scuttling out of the elegant powder-blue room in an attempt to redeem her Mistress' favour.
A small nod of approval was her reward when the two dazzling ensembles were carefully levitated to the bed and shown to not have a crease between them. Celine breathed out faintly and the smaller of the two girls that had followed her in, grinned at her in a way that said quite plainly "You see."
Celine smiled tremulously back. God bless the child, she was as sweet and knowing as one twice her age. Miss Narcissa had taken her hand and calmed the dresser's poor nerves with a promise that Madame temper was as swift and forgiving as it was explosive. And the little dear had been right, praise Merlin.
Mademoiselle Charis strode past the pair, as tall and graceful as her name. Her brilliant blue eyes took in the ruined drapes and the pile of cinders beneath them at a glance; they lit up with undutiful mischief but very wisely the girl forbore to comment. Narcissa on the other hand was not so restrained and the irrepressible gurgle of laughter escaped before she could control it.
Madame spun round with a sweep of her robes and a blazing blue glare that wiped the mirth immediately from the child's face. For a dangerous moment both girls held their breath when, just as suddenly, the sound of reluctant, husky laughter brought matching sighs to their lips.
Madame Amelie de Belle-Ile shook her magnificent head in throaty amusement, elegant fingers pressed daintily to her brow as she said ruefully.
"Ahh What it is to be Veela. Come mes cheries, we are behind schedule and the Ball will not wait for stragglers."
Her snow white arms lifted with a ballerina's grace and indicated for the pair to come near, one hand going to brush each silken head with love. Narcissa and Charis exchanged swift glances and cheeky smiles that made Madame roll her eyes and shake her head once more, ushering them towards the majestic bed with slow, majestic impatience.
"What children; honestly."
Narcissa laughed, peeping up at the tall, impossibly beautiful lady with such an expression of mischief that the Veela couldn't help but smile back. Then she danced over to the bed and picked up the dress on the right with a gasp of pleasure.
"It's beautiful! Perfect! See Charis!"
The golden curls flew as she spun around holding the blue silk to her chest so that the embroided gold flowers gleamed in the light. Charis grinned back, and shrugged her shoulders in a pretty, teasing gesture.
"It's nice,"she gleamed wickedly, "but pink is so much more feminine, don't you think?"
The soft baby pink dress was held up in a similar fashion and the silk and lace and ribbons shone as she turned back and forth, her grin widening as Narcissa stuck out her tongue in a not very ladylike fashion. Charis tutted laughingly and the girls collapsed in helpless giggles of excitement until Madame finally cleared her throat and took both dresses purposefully from their grips.
"Tch."she sniffed through delicately pinched nostrils, "These are for wear, not play. Now Hurry! Before I leave you both."
Charis and Narcissa bowed their heads obediently, and set to work removing the pleasant day dresses and robes that decorated their slim persons.
The taffeta fell to the floor in a smooth waterfall of colour and, standing side by side in only their white undergarments, it could be seen that the two girls were not as like as one might have originally supposed. A casual observer, upon seeing two pairs of eyes of such deep, luminous blue could be pardoned for assuming the girls were sisters. But in the soft glow of Madame's gorgeous Boudoir, the two were shown to be as different as could be.
The first topped her companion by almost a full head, her figure slim and poignant, her limbs pale as snow and her movements mesmerising in their grace. Madame couldn't quite repress the glow of pride as she looked upon her youngest daughter, a mirror image almost of herself and a true heir to her Veela heritage. Charis met her mother's eyes and smiled, silver hair gleaming like curtain of spun moonlight as the girl bent her head to slip into the folds of the dress.
The soft blush of pink slipped up to fit like a second skin. The chenille silver trimmings glinted as she moved to allow her mother to magically close up the back of the ball gown without a seam. Close and smooth it hugged the slim curve of the fifteen year -old's waist and hips before flaring out into marshmallow skirt, magically kept aloof by a phantom hoop. Matching silk gloves were hastily pulled over frantic fingers, a necklace of pearls was clasped round her white throat and Charis stepped back to gaze at herself appraisingly in the mirror. One last tweak of the bodice and her face lit up in a dazzling smile that showed two rows of perfect teeth. Content, she then turned to throw that smile at the girl who had in the four years since they'd met, become closer than a sister to her.
In any other company Narcissa Black would have been deemed a creature created by magic, an angel perhaps or a muggle fairy. In the company of Madame and her daughter, the effect was naturally dimmed but only very little. The sparkle in eyes of such cornflower blue, the irresistible glow of pleasure and mischief that lit up her face, they somehow held their own against beauty that was indeed unnatural. If her skin was not quite so white, her eyes not quite so deep it really mattered very little, for even in the Veelas ' shadows she cast her own light.
The dress itself was the same sapphire blue of her eyes, the twenty-four carat embroidery no less rich than the golden ringlets that cascaded over her shoulders, as yet untamed and undressed. Madame lifted her wand and indicated for the pair to sit, carefully so as not to crease the gowns. The pair obeyed but as Madame moved behind her daughter's head, Narcissa turned suddenly to throw a beseeching glance at her preceptress.
"The story Madame,"her sparkling tones lilting over the French with only the faintest hint of her English origins, "Tell us it, please!"
Charis immediately seconded the demand.
"Oui Maman, it is tradition after all,"she twinkled careful not to move her handsome head and disrupt Madame's administrations.
A tiny frown creased the Veela's white brow, but it was gone to fast for one to guess its cause. Pain perhaps. Or even a darker emotion still, such as disgust or self-hatred.
"You have heard it a thousand times, mes petites. Are you not too old for fairy-stories?"
Both girls instantly and vehemently disclaimed.
"No!"
"One is never too old for fairy-tales!"Charis, unable to move her head, shook her dainty fingers vigorously instead.
"And who knows, we may one day be grown enough to hear the ending!"Narcissa finished with a hopeful expression.
Madame laughed, rich and deep and finally sighed in reluctant consent. She shushed them both, hands flapping for them to turn their triumphant faces back to the huge, ornate mirror that sat responded on the dressing table in front of them. Then, glancing occasionally at their reflections, she drew a heavy, bosom-swelling breath and began with the same words and same low, sensual tones that such a story called for.
"Once upon time, in a kingdom far far away, there lived three beautiful princesses.
The first was the youngest, my darlings, in both mind and body. Sweet and dazzling as the dawn she was, so warm and glowing that the angels themselves longed to steal her away and make her one of their own.
The next was as shining as a star, sparkling like a diamond in sun or rain, sharp of mind and sharp of tongue if needed, oh yes, but ever hidden behind a beauty that made the heavens weep with envy.
And finally there was the third, loveliest of all, no creature on earth more perfect, no angel nor star more dazzling. Yet as her beauty outshone the others, so did the faults of her nature, Pride, selfishness and vanity, she had them all and yet those three, they loved each other more than life itself.
Yes, my sweet ones, despite their differences of character no sisters by blood could be closer and to look at, an outsider would have sworn them to have sprung from the same tree, so similar were their looks. Gold of hair, blue of eye and white of skin all three, three snow maidens with three hearts that beat as one."
Madame's voice rolled like waves on the sea, lulling and soothing as it washed over the girls, making lashes flutter and movements still as the room turned quiet save only the deep, dream-like tones.
"Together they lived in a shining castle, content in their love for each other and for life. The years passed and as they grew, no shadow darkened their days, no sadness to dull their nights; they became more beautiful with each new dawn.
Then, one day, the moment finally came for them to marry, mes chères, and the hopefuls rode up on white stallions. Three stallions for three princes that knocked on the golden gates to the castle, begging for entry and enter they did.
A ball was held in welcome, and there, for the first time, the princesses met the handsome princes.
The first prince kissed the angel's hand, silver hair and silver eyes gleaming in the candlelight as he asked her to dance. And what did she do? She agreed, my loved ones, but even as they touched and even as they twirled, she could not help but stare behind.
The second prince kissed the star's cheek, and she flushed before his black gaze, her heart and reason and even her quick tongue lost, stolen by the man with ebony hair and golden skin. They too danced, and never had the star shone so bright as she did in the darkness' hold.
The third prince was last in line, and he halted before the third princess, loveliest of all. But though in that single moment two hearts were lost, his bright eyes were not looking at the third and final princess. And when she turned to see upon whom he stared with such longing, something in her broke and crumbled into pain and bitter jealousy."
The words were somehow sharper, the princess' bitterness seeping into the story and the air and as so many times before, Charis and Narcissa's fingers clenched in dread for what was about to come. And still the words fell from Madame's lips as she moved from her daughter's head to Narcissa's.
"For you see my darlings, it was the angel for whom he had fallen, utterly and completely, and reading the minds of men as she did, the third princess felt the burn of bitter envy in her throat, the sting of hatred for one she loved so well.
And in that pain my darlings, she did something she would regret until the day her lonely heart stopped beating."
The words trembled with emotion. Agony stung the silence, and the girls' heads lowered under it's lash.
"The third princess abandoned her sisters, running from the envy and leaving them in their hour of greatest need. For in that moment as they were unguarded, the two princes shed their handsome disguises to transform into their true horrific natures, two demons, clad in black and silver.
The black demon grasped the star by the shoulders and announced to the ball; A kiss to seal! And kiss her he did, and at that moment she was bound to him for all eternity. He took her in his arms and soared away back to his hellish kingdom to make her his queen.
The silver demon saw the way the angel looked at the third prince, and he smiled a demon smile. He too led the angel to the centre of the room, but rather than her shoulders, he grasped her wrists tight enough for her to cry out in pain and fear. A cry that made it's way as a terrified echo to the third princess' ears.
The loveliest of them all turned, realising her terrible mistake and prayed to the gods she would not be too late. But even as she burst through the door, the silver-eyed demon spoke the dreaded words
'A chain to hold, and a kiss to seal."
And in a flash, chains of gold appeared round the angel's wrists, and as his lips touched hers, the vow was made complete. The angel was bound to him, both her heart and her soul, the kiss making her his wife and the chains declaring her his slave."
Madame's voice grew softer, her chest that had swelled, slowly lowering in a heavy sigh.
"He bore her away my sweets, forcing her to obey his every command and the third princess and the third prince could only weep for the loss of their loved ones."
For a long moment no voice shattered the poignant silence, even the soft breeze from the window stilled as if in mourning. Then finally a single, soft sigh broke the spell caused by bitter love and Veela magic.
"It is such a sad story,"Charis murmured.
"But I'm sure the prince came after her,"said Narcissa almost forcefully, "because a princess always dreams of her prince."
The girls were stirring. Madame made no answer and carefully used her wand to fix in place one last shining lock of hair to the ensemble. A delicate wreath of the lightest gold and tiny sapphires was set around the pile of curls that sat on the top of the girl's head like a crown. Narcissa waited as Madame gently pulled loose some tendrils to frame her oval face before glancing up at her patroness with huge, pleading eyes.
"Please Madame, will you not tell us the end."
But Madame was already shaking her handsome head and with looks of disappointment, Charis and Narcissa obeyed the gesture for them to rise and be appraised. A swift, piercing look was cast over both, and then she handed the girls their masks; one blue silk and gold diamond shaped cushioning, the other all pink and silver lace.
Madame allowed herself a small smile of approval, soft and slightly sad as the sight before her indicated how much time had passed and how that which remained diminished a little more each day. Three more years at most. No more. The thick fringe of lashes fluttered briefly shut but the pain was pushed aside before the little ones could see. Madame drew herself up bowed her magnificent head towards the door.
"On y va."
The Hôtel Charbonne was so brightly lit and such a momentous change from the evening gloom, that when the coach drew to a halt outside the noble edifice and the footman let down the steps, Narcissa had to cover her eyes behind her mask against the almost blinding brilliance. The three-sided court was a blaze of light, shining from each and every one of the hundreds of un-shuttered windows that gave onto it. Huge glittering globes were magically suspended above the never-ending, stream of carriages, all pausing to allow their Masters and Mistresses to alight, then passing on to allow others to take their place. Two rows of House-elves in matching gilded tea-towels proudly lined the white stone entrance, bowing as each guest passed inside.
Madame gave her hand to the footman and alighted without sparing the boy a glance. Charis followed her imperious lead before stepping back just a place to wait for the last occupant of the carriage, blue eyes taking in the magnificence with a pleased smile of familiarity.
Narcissa waved her wand so that the mask rested unaided on her face and placed her delicate fingers into the servants waiting hand, turning her head to bestow upon the unsuspecting boy a dazzling smile as she did so. His suddenly flushed cheeks and glazed expression made her bite back a mischievous laugh but Charis was already taking her arm with a roll of her eyes.
"Ah la la Cici, save your smiles and your charms for Tristan."
The answering giggle was abruptly stifled as Madame turned with autocratic grace, one perfectly groomed brow raised in haughty impatience. At once the girls moved forward, blue and pink side by side as they mounted the stairs and followed Madame through the golden doors and into the resplendent Hall. A nod to the waiting servant and all three ladies discarded their robes to relinquish them in the house-elf's care with sharp instructions not to crease or fold them. Then the threesome made their way to the very end of the antechamber, Madame a pace ahead, and both girls blinked as they walked through the huge marble archway into a blast of light.
The staircase flowed from their feet like a river of gold. Fifty foot above the crowd they stood, only for a moment whilst Madame conjured three stamped scrolls and handed them to the waiting Footman. He glanced at them briefly, reading the names and checking his own list before, with a speed that made Narcissa blink, drawing his wand and setting alight to them in a burst of fire. The ashes disappeared into nothing. The footman bowed respectfully low and waved the three ladies to the stairs.
Below them a thousand silk-clad and masked figures danced and twirled and flirted under the glare of the scintillating chandelier that dominated the gigantic ballroom. So immense it must have held three thousand candles, it hung suspended by invisible chain like a glorious, glowing star, illuminating the vast dimensions of the court. The orchestra played on a raised dais and huge windows towered from ceiling to floor, decorated with rich velvet hangings and ruby frills.
The entire space could have held the Hôtel Bell-Isle and all its gardens with ease. It was Paris' ballroom, and tonight, the first night of the season, Paris in it's entirety had come to adorn it.
As Narcissa descended the last step the glow of complete and utter content almost overwhelmed her. Here, under the candles and the arches, with Charis tall and resplendent as the house itself at her side, she couldn't help but feel like she was truly home.
Both girls turned to Madame who had paused a little to their right to talk and laugh with a lady in a puce gown who despite the mask had recognised the party instantly. Charis and Narcissa smiled, unsurprised. Even among the very very finest of Paris' inhabitants, Veela blood and power could not be disguised. The unreal grace with which she moved, the way male heads turned to stare, befuddled without even knowing why; Madame Amelie de Belle-Isle could no more pass incognito that she could fly to the moon.
To a certain extent it was a fact that held also true of her daughters. Narcissa turned to smile lovingly at the tall beauty at her side. Charis and Appolline, although only half-Veela's, nevertheless carried much of their mother's presence. Both remarkably tall, both impossibly beautiful, they lit up the room like two suns. Appolline was two years older than the girls and had just finished her sixth and final year at Beauxbatons. To celebrate, she and her friends had left barely a week ago in a Grand Tour, similar to the ones young nobleman would complete in days gone by, before settling down to marriage and the management of their estates. Narcissa was torn in two by her departure. On one hand, she adored the elder Mademoiselle de Belle-Isle and had secretly idolised her when she was younger, but on the other, the remaining three weeks before her return to England would be undeniably more enjoyable without the constant hassle of keeping her loved ones separate. Of a brighter, sunnier disposition than her younger sister, Appolline could never fail to grate on Charis' nerves if the pair were together for too long a period.
Narcissa shook her golden head with a mischievous smile. However much she loved Appolline, loyalty dictated that she had to side with her soul-sister. What else were best friends for?
"You're dreaming again Cici!"the best friend in question broke into Narcissa's aimless thoughts with a wicked grin. "Come on, Maman has said we may go and the others should already be here."
Narcissa shook herself from her daze immediately, a glowing smile lighting up her pretty features at the thought of seeing the other three girls in their group of friends. Even a ten days of separation was long when she was so used to seeing Marguerite and Eugénie every day. Craning her head, she tried desperately to see over the crowd and get her bearings.
"Which way is La Salle?"she asked ignoring Charis' mocking smirk. The half-Veela took her by her gloved hand and pulled her through a cluster of older Dowagers and behind one of the gold pillars.
The huge number of people present made the heat rather stifling, and it was with slightly flushed cheeks behind the decorative masks that the two girls finally emerged some minutes later at the doorway to the Salle de Guerre.
Two young demoiselles in lilac and amber huddled beside the imposing archway, their pretty ringlets intermingled as though they exchanged secrets. However the moment Narcissa and Charis squeezed past one particular gentleman's impressive bulk, both squealed with pleasure and excitement.
Eugénie threw herself into Charis' arms with a vigour and strength belied by her tiny figure and hugged her friend tight enough to make her gasp for air. The tiny brunette giggled and drew back to embrace Narcissa next, her sparkling green eyes bright with mischief.
Marguerite hung a little further back, her pleasure just as strong but rather more dignifiedly expressed. The gentle brown hand not holding her wand reached forward to grip first Narcissa's fingers and then Charis. She smiled, soft and slow to reveal dazzling white teeth and as always Narcissa was struck by her friend's resemblance to her part-Asian mother. Marguerite's long black hair gleamed almost blue as she tilted back her head and said with deceptive placidness.
"We had almost given you up. I never though I'd see the day when Grace and Beauty turned up late to a ball.»
Charis grinned back and Eugenie giggled merrily as she said
"Or were you being Vanity tonight, and taking too long in front of the mirror."she twinkled naughtily.
Charis' grin abruptly faded but Narcissa took her friend's mockery in good part, throwing a calming smile towards the half-Veela and shrugging daintily.
"Alas, growing up in a house of Veela makes one hopelessly aware of one's own inadequacy."she laughed wickedly, knowing full well the pout of disapproval that would be spreading over her best friend's perfect features.
Sure enough Charis let out an unladylike snort and grabbed Eugénie by the arm.
"Absolute rubbish. Come on, we'd better move back to the other side of the Ballroom if were to have any hope of some unfortunate taking this baggage off ours hands."
The words were softened by an affectionate flick at the smaller girl's round cheek and with a naughty grin Eugénie skipped lightly after her, leaving Narcissa and Marguerite to follow in their wake.
The music came to an end amidst much applause and the band were striking up for country dance. Narcissa couldn't quite keep her eyes from flitting back and forth in search of one particular figure, and Marguerite smiled her slow smile.
"I don't think he's arrived yet."Narcissa flushed beneath her mask and turned to grin sheepishly into her friend's knowing expression. She briefly contemplated feigning ignorance but a moment later her lips parted in a rueful chuckle.
"He does tend to be late,"Narcissa twinkled affectionately. Marguerite nodded and replied solemnly.
"You'll have to punish him."
Narcissa burst out laughing, her big blue eyes sparkling with pure amusement and Marguerite faintly raised her brows in mock affront. The giggle was finally suppressed as the girl said chokingly
"You do know we aren't going out?"
Again Marguerite looked down at her with cool, wide-eyed placidness.
"All the more reason. He'd be well served if you allowed yourself to be booked for every dance."
Narcissa shook her head and was about to reply when suddenly a group of gentleman shifted and the pair stepped forward onto the very edge of the vast space reserved for dancing, that was empty save the couples that were moving to the floor. Charis and Eugénie waved from some three meters away, their haste explained as the other two drew near and Charis whispered urgently.
"He's searching for you Marguerite!"
Eugenie look like she was about to explode with excitement. Even Narcissa swung round with huge smile of pleasure for her friend but the recipient of this information remained largely unmoved. Only the briefest clench of her caramel fingers upon the smooth lilac folds of her dress indicated that this calm was perhaps a little more forced than the sloe-eyed girl was letting on. Marguerite moved forward to the very edge of the floor, her chin elegantly held aloof and sure enough a moment later, a young man in a dark purple dress shirt and smartly pressed trousers strode forward and bowed over her hand.
"If Mademoiselle would do me the honour?"he murmured, the words a caress. Behind the embroided mask his eyes danced and his fine lips curved upwards into a smile as faintly mocking as Marguerite's own. The girls desperately held back squeals as their friend nodded and was led to the centre of the room. Then the music began and Narcissa sighed dreamily as Antoine swept Marguerite across the floor with a poise and grace that had people ogling the pair in admiration.
Charis caught the outtake of breath and grinned at her friend's romanticism. Antoine and Marguerite had first began courting a year ago, much to the world's surprise. Indeed even the teachers had been stunned when the aloof Asian beauty had finally given in to the dark-haired playboy's demand of a date. The pair had never publicly become "official"even to their closest friends, but a year later the two were still other-wise unattached and seen together frequently enough to hint that a proposal might very well be soon on the cards.
Narcissa couldn't help but be happy for them. Both offspring of well-to-do pureblood families, they had had the rare good fortune to fall in love with someone not only of good-breeding but also highly eligible in terms of wealth. From the hints that her self-possessed friend rarely let slip, their parents were already planning the pair's wedding and discussing dowries and incomes.
But Antoine's presence also had sparked excitement in her breast for another quite different reason. Namely that the tall, dark-haired charmer also happened to be the best friend and accomplice in flirtation of a certain Tristan de LeRoy.
Tristan de LeRoy. The mere thought of his name brought a faint blush to Narcissa's pale cheeks. Tall, devilishly handsome, ridiculously charming, Tristan was one of the most sought-after bachelors in the whole of Beauxbatons. Famous for never keeping a steady girlfriend for longer than a month her had unexpectedly developed an interest in the year-younger English rose, an interest that had made her an object of jealousy for most of the girls in the school.
Narcissa wasn't quite sure what to make of the sixth year. For the past four months he had refused each and every one of the numerous declarations and demands from other members of the female population, instead choosing to spend much of his free time with Narcissa Evangeline Black. He'd never taken their relationship further then simply flirting but still, rumours were rapidly growing about the possibility that the schools most eligible male could be on the way to being caught at last. On her part, Narcissa had no intention of falling for the charms of a well-known player, but after four months of casual dalliance, part of her couldn't help but wonder if he might actually be more interested than he was letting on. And if he were… Narcissa shook her head sharply. Then perhaps she would allow herself to think about his mysterious, dark blue eyes or the wicked, winning grin that curved his full lips. Then and only then.
Still she couldn't quite justify the reason her gaze flickered more often that not to the huge gold-encrusted marble staircase that rose out from the bustling crowd. Charis noticed her preoccupation and grinned, leaning over to Eugenie to whisper in her ear, one hand already lifting towards Narcissa's averted profile when suddenly a sickly sweet voice wiped all traces of amusement from her face.
"Well, well. If it isn't "ZE GANG"."
All three girls turned abruptly to stare with looks of blatant dislike towards the newcomer. Narcissa relaxed her shoulders and ran her eyes down Aurélie's shamelessly flaunted voluptuous curves with a look of distain. Eugénie was glancing warily from the girl to Charis, who was now looking so furious the air seemed to almost crackle around her.
Aurélie de Richelieu sneered openly, scarlet lips curled beneath her scarlet mask. Lustrous chatain locks were piled up on her head, with only one slipping free to lay seductively against the high, bounteous curve of her impressive cleavage. The blood red dress was moulded to her sensual form, emphasizing the chestnut skin and setting it aglow under the flickering candlelight. Narcissa, looking at their old enemy with intense dislike, couldn't help but own her a ridiculously handsome creature, despite detesting every inch of her gorgeous countenance.
"Move on De Richelieu; there are no boyfriends for you to seduce here."Charis bit out scathingly, her temper flaring dangerously as the girl's green, catlike eyes lit up in cruel pleasure through the slits of her mask.
"Still griping at that old wound, Veela."she suddenly turned to smile viciously at little Eugenie. "I grew bored of him months ago; would you like him back?"
The flush on Eugénie's cheeks, the brightness of pain in her round eyes pushed Charis' temper up to a blaze. Experience made Narcissa rest a cool hand on her best friend's arm, warning her of the risk she was running by letting the bitch provoke her so easily. It took a few long moments but eventually the whirlwind of power leaking out from Charis rigid form began slowly to lessen. Her white fists unclenched, her chest heaving in silent deep breaths, Aurélie's mocking smirk taunting her all the while.
It was then that a movement at the top of the exquisite staircase caught Narcissa's eye, and her golden head spun round in sudden hope.
A tall figure was gracefully descending, in deep black robes that swirled like a cape around his lean yet muscular form. Each step was mesmerising, deliberate and poised like a movement from a dance. Somewhere her mind was shouting at her that this was not Tristan, that Tristan was not so tall nor quite so broad, so therefore why was she gazing at him in such a fixed manner. But the voice was ignored, and cornflower blue eyes stared huge and round at the unknown gentleman, until all too quick he was stood paused at the very foot.
Aurélie and Charis noticed the fixedness of her attention and turned in search of whatever had caught the girl's eye. A tiny frown creased the half-vela's brow, as something, some flash of insight immediately whispered that this man was not quite what he seemed. On Aurélie however, the gentleman was obviously having another, quite different effect.
A pink velvet tongue slipped out to caress her parted lips with predatory hunger. She glanced at Narcissa's fascinated face and her eyes glowed wickedly green as she folded her smooth arms deliberately.
"Mine."Only one word did she speak, but it had all three girls spinning round to glare at her in confusion and suspicion.
"The handsome newcomer,"she smiled sweet and lilting, "Unless you're up for the challenge."
Charis curled her pretty lip in disgust, looking down at the other girl's dark triumphant face with decided distaste.
"You really are a man-whore. But if you really are so foolish as to set yourself up against a Veela…"The question was left mockingly unfinished as her lips curled again, this time in the wicked smirk of victory.
Aurélie shrugged her caramel shoulders.
"I am not THAT naïve. We all know you could have him with a snap of your bony fingers De Belle-Isle, but winning by such methods is hardly the point is it not?"against she smiled that same sugary smile.
"No, I was wondering if la petite anglaise would be up for the game. Or perhaps the dwarf"she sneered down into Eugénie's flushed face, "One bad turn deserves another, after all."
Narcissa interrupted before Eugenie could let out the irate squeak that was hovering on her pale lips.
"I'll do it, De Richelieu. And if I win, I don't want to see hide nor hair of you this entire season. Not one ball, nor Levée nor Soirée."
Aurélie's almond eyes narrowed, making them look more cat-like than ever, but the gentle smile still remained fixed on her scarlet lips.
"Fine. And if I win, you have no right to interfere with my seduction of Tristan de LeRoy."she challenged softly.
Narcissa stiffened. Charis almost snarled with fury and even little Eugénie summoned the courage to glare up at the dark-skinned girl with intense hatred. But finally Narcissa nodded, her chin lifted as regally as queen, before sweeping her skirts aside in a mockingly respectful curtsey.
"Soit. And as the challenged in this case, I claim the right to make the first move."her blue eyes pinned the other girl to the ground. Aurélie begrudgingly nodded. Narcissa's answering smile gleamed liked sunshine on a river.
"Then Mademoiselles, I will leave you observe."
Narcissa picked up her skirts and made to disappear into the crowds when a hand on her arm made her pause. Charis' lovely face stared worriedly down into hers, her lower lip chewed between perfect teeth as she said too soft for the others to hear
"Perhaps this isn't a good idea."
Narcissa clasped her hand affectionately, a mischievous grin on her parted lips.
"Love is a leap of faith, ma chère."Charis could not but smile back but still she shook her magnificent head as though to shake off an ill-feeling.
"It is not you I have no faith in, Cici."
Narcissa's tone was soft and coaxing as she said
"Then trust me. I have lived for the past four years in a house full of Veela's. You'd be surprised what one can pick up."
Before Charis could reply, Narcissa slipped out of her grasp and, with one last naughty peep through her lashes, she was gone. Charis sighed, trying her best to stifle the foreboding in her heart and stepped back to where Aurélie and Eugenie stood, eyes fixed on the tall dark figure that now lounged against one of the towering windows. And, glancing round quickly across the room, Charis noted, they were far from being the only ones.
Eugénie gripped her friend's hand, and the half-Veela looked down at her reassuringly. To their right, Aurélie de Richelieu's smooth velvet tones said with deceptive softness.
"Let the games begin."
The next man read through the manuscript with wide, weary eyes.
At the very end he paused, just long enough to be called hesitation and seeing this the third man took the eagle feather quill in his white grip and held it out with an soft smile. The gentleman took with shaking fingers, his shoulders hunched as though bent over with despair, dark hair clinging to a brow that shone with sweat in the all-seeing candlelight. The flame flickered, almost in pity, for the man that screamed of power and strength shrivelled into nothing. Then, with a final glance towards the other occupant of the room, he put the quill to parchment and signed the very bottom in slow, black calligraphy.
The vellum glowed.
Up close, he was even more appealing than he had been from a distance, Narcissa admitted reluctantly, eyeing him speculatively as she decided on the best approach to take. Now that she was here, only three short meters away, another truth was becoming more and more apparent.
He was also decidedly more daunting.
His long ebony robes gave the illusion that he was shrouded in darkness, until one picked out the rich silver thread and gleaming buttons that decorated the velvet folds. They were thrown almost casually back from broad shoulders, revealing an exquisitely tasteful dress shirt and pants, and a fountain of lace held at his throat with a striking emerald broach. This and a single, heavy signet ring were his only ornaments, but somehow the lack of ostentation only served to emphasize the man's natural beauty; he needed no more embellishment.
His face was turned away from her, scanning the crowds and dancing couples with a searing gaze that sent a thrill through her body. Only his lips and chin were visible, the rest of his features hidden behind a mask made from black eagle-owl feathers, a rare and expensive luxury, she noted with surprise. Whoever this stranger was, he did not lack for money, that much was certain.
The lips themselves were beautiful enough to make her stare, full and soft and palest pink they seemed to be made for kissing, even with her limited experience. They were set above a chin that was pointed yet somehow masculine and from her viewpoint, she could see the flawless white skin run smoothly right down to his collar-bone, where it disappeared into the elegant folds of his cravat. Long white-blond hair was restrained at the nape of that beautiful neck, by a single black ribbon, contrasting strongly against the silver and Narcissa felt an unfamiliar urge to release the gleaming strands and run her tiny fingers through them.
All in all he was even more handsome than she had supposed possible. Narcissa inhaled deeply in an attempt to summon her courage before it deserted her completely, reminding herself that if she did not, Aurélie would be quick enough to take her place. For some reason the thought steeled her.
"Monsieur?"
The single word was spoken with just the right note of charm and hesitation, Narcissa noted with inward pride. But the gentleman did not, contrary to her expectations, immediately look her way. Instead she thought she saw his eyes rolls upwards before finally, with an insulting nonchalance, turning his handsome head just enough to take in the appearance of his accoster.
That slow, passionless gaze brought the tiniest of flushes to her cheeks; Narcissa thanked Merlin for the presence of the mask that hid it from his notice. He looked her up and down, as one might a horse, Narcissa thought indignantly, his eyes lingering without shame on the curve of her bare shoulders, the impressive mounds of her cleavage and the impossibly small circle of her waist. Narcissa fought to keep the irritation from her features and her posture but suddenly his eyes snapped to hers, sparkling with the barest hint of amusement, as though he'd read her mind and found it intriguing.
Still holding her gaze, he finally opened those perfect lips and breathed a soft single, appreciative word.
"Mademoiselle."
Again the faint lilt of mockery in that velvet voice ruffled her feathers, and it was with a decided effort that Narcissa fixed a wide dazzling smile to her face and descended into a beautiful curtsy. He bowed over the hand she offered and brought to his lips with a grace that put hers to shame. Narcissa forced her mouth not to fall open in shock, only staring at him slightly dazedly as he brushed her knuckles with his kiss and moved back all with that same mesmerising ease of movement.
A moment later she recollected herself, mentally shaking her head to chase away the strange impression of déja-vu, and cleared her throat to blithely speak her next lines.
"Monsieur is alone? Perhaps he might like some company."
Her eyes sparkled, huge and impossibly blue through the slits of her mask but instead of being dazzled the gentleman replied with a clipped shake of his head.
"Mille pardons, Mademoiselle. But I am looking for someone in particular."
His French was perfect but with the faintest trace of an accent. Narcissa blinked at him, trying to convince herself that there had been at least a faint note of regret in the stranger's velvet tones, but inside, her mind was in shock. He'd turned her down. And more to the point; it hurt, Narcissa swallowed. She took a deep breath, determined not to lose so easily.
"Perhaps I could assist you…?"
"Narcissa!"
Narcissa turned at the sound of her name being called from a couple who were just leaving the dance floor, so fast that she did not see the gentleman's head spin round in a flash. Nor did she see his suddenly burning gaze flicker from her averted profile to Marguerite's approaching figure, back and forth, gleaming in a some dark realisation.
Narcissa welcomed her friend and her cavalier with a wide, excited smile and Marguerite gripped Narcissa's hands affectionately, but her black eyes were on the tall dark stranger.
"Oh."she said in surprise, "I beg your pardon, I assumed you had found Tristan. Antoine was hoping to talk with him. Toutes mes excuses, Monsieur."she sank into a graceful curtsey and the stranger bowed over her hand with a smooth reply of
"It was nothing."
Antoine eyed the gentleman considering, his dark blue eyes watchful as he observed the way the stranger's gaze never left Narcissa's face. When he held out his hand, it was therefore with a certain coolness, as he mentally cursed Tristan and his stupid nonchalance. Judging by the way this man was looking at the English beauty, if Tristan didn't turn up soon, he might well lose his chance. Still Antoine's casually good-looking features were fixed into a smile as he said politely
"Antoine de Maine; at your service, Monsieur."
The gentleman in black took the outstretched hand, but ignored the silent question as to his own identity and merely nodded.
"Et le vôtre, Monsieur de Maine." And yours.
Antoine frowned, but before he could comment, Marguerite had grasped the meaning of Narcissa's significant glances over towards where Charis, Eugenie and Aurélie all stood, and gently pressed her love's arm.
"Perhaps Charis has seen him?"she said in her smooth placid tones, already pulling her companion in the other direction. For a moment Antoine looked as though he wished to stay and press the issue of the stranger's rudeness, but then he sighed and nodded. The couple bowed one final time and disappeared into the masses, leaving Narcissa and the stranger alone.
When her friends were out of sight, Narcissa let the small, dreamy sigh she'd been holding in before turning back with a start to the gentleman in black who still stood as motionless as a statue at her left hand.
"I'm sorry, what were you saying?"The apology almost faltered before the look in the man's eyes. A gasp crept up her throat but was repressed as his gaze scorched into hers, dark and gleaming, feasting upon her face with a strange, almost cruel triumph. Narcissa swallowed, instinctively cringing away from the intensity in that look, the mockery in that faint curving smile.
A second later and the expression that had frightened her was gone. Instead his lips curved a smile so beautiful, so angelic it touched some cord of memory within her. Narcissa blinked, as the sudden light and tenderness in that smile left her all but breathless. His hand crept out to take gentle hold of hers without her even realising it. Only when the faint pressure of his lips through her silk gloves brought her to her senses did she suddenly become aware that he was kissing the tiny fingers with a reverence he had not shown before. And still his bewitching gaze never left hers.
They stood their like that for a long, breath-taking moment. Then his lips parted as if to speak when suddenly a tall voluptuous figure stepped forward until she was almost between them, familiar lilting smile already painted on her scarlet lips.
"Why Narcissa, you must introduce me to your new friend, not keep him so selfishly to yourself."Aurélie never removed her striking green eyes from the stranger's face, drinking in his features so greedily that her lips seemed parted in real thirst. Narcissa clenched her fists but resisted the unladylike impulse, her voice carefully rigid and controlled as she replied
"Monsieur, this is…"
"Aurélie de Richelieu."the seductress cut smoothly off, scarlet lips spread into a expression of almost scandalous enticement.
Matching scarlet nails gleamed like bloody claws in the candlelight as she held out her caramel hand and curtsied low enough to give the gentleman full view down her admittedly appealing cleavage. Narcissa grit her little white teeth, cursing the slut inwardly but to her surprise the gentleman merely bowed over the hand before putting it away from him as quickly as possible. Narcissa felt a rush of gratitude towards the stranger, despite her earlier fear and when his hypnotic smile gleamed conspiringly at her over Aurélie's dark head, she returned it mischivously.
Aurélie rose with a petulant expression, pouting up into the blond man's face with huge soulful eyes.
"Would Monsieur not like to dance?"she lilted sweetly, batting long dark lashes through the slits of her mask. The stranger looked down at her impassively.
"Monsieur would indeed."he finally lilted back with a smile equally as sweet. Narcissa's blue eyes turned huge in dismay and Aurélie's smirk widened in delicious triumph.
"Which is why I have already begged Miss Black to do me the honour."?
Ignoring the look of complete horror that left the dark-skinned girl's mouth gaping open, he moved with impossible grace to Narcissa's side and recaptured her hand in his long elegant fingers. His gaze smouldered, Narcissa's heart skipped a beat as once more he pressed it to his lips and murmured soft and sensual against the silk
"If she is agreable?"
As if in a trance, Narcissa mutely nodded, her voice and her self-control stolen away by silver eyes and soft, sweet smile. Gentle as mother's love he drew her hand through his arm and led her towards the floor, where the orchestra were striking up for a softer, slower waltz. Again some flicker of recognition flashed in her brain, but it was too small, too weak to complete against the gentleman's intoxicating presence. Romance was the one the she dreamed of and romance this man was, from his dark, smouldering gaze to the secrets that danced and intrigued behind his white-toothed smile.
Narcissa allowed him to pull her into his arms, one hand dangerously low on the small of her back, the other grasping hers in a grip to powerful, too possessive for propriety. Her head barely topped his chin, all she could see was the elegance of his ensemble, the strange green glow of the serpants eyes, nestling in the froth of lace and the smooth white skin of his collar-bone as he waited for the first beat and began to move.
As they twirled across the floor, his skin scorching hot through the thin material of her dress, his grace so unreal that even other couples halted to stare with wonder, Narcissa could only breath, tremulous, shaking breaths of pleasure and nervousness intermingled. With each rise and fall of her breast, the gentleman's clasp became just a little tighter until he could feel every curve of her frame against his chest and stomach.
And with each sensuous revolution, the deadly smirk that touched his lips stretched just a little wider.
The sky was a blue-black carpet or stars above their heads when he led her out onto the silent balcony. After two consecutive waltzes, the flush in Narcissa's cheeks and the accelerated rhythms of her breathing indicated that a reprieve from the heat and the stifling atmosphere in the ballroom might do her good. And the tall, dark stranger had been right, Narcissa thought, as her lashes fluttered closed in bliss from the cool refreshing breeze that danced across the terrace and ruffled her gown.
She ran to the balcony in sudden pleasure, gripping it tightly with her fingers as she stared out longingly over the lights of Paris. The Eiffel Tower was lit up like a column of fire-flies, the river Seine, curved and twisted like a black ribbon, and the night air was filled by the sounds of laughter and music from the street-cafés and restaurants that gleamed below her.
"You find it beautiful."
A statement not a question, but the sudden closeness of the voice made Narcissa start round in alarm before laughing blithely at her own silliness. The black shadow crept closer, silent as a ghost and strangely disconcerting in the half-light, his tall frame coming to rest on the stone beside her, leaning out in a gesture that matched her own. Narcissa smiled shyly.
"I love it. I don't think I could ever be happier than I am here. This city, these lights, these people."she sighed, lifting her masked face to the breeze and the sky, as though begging them to come and take her with them.
"Am I included in those thoughts?"he looked at her with that soft silken smile until Narcissa met his gaze, a faint flush in her cheeks.
"That depends, are you intending on telling me your name?"she said airily, before adding with a faint frown, "Or whom you were supposed to be meeting."
He smiled at the hint of childish petulance behind the light, casual tone; she obviously was obviously mistrusting of this unknown rival. Narcissa saw the smile and flushed a little darker, embarrassed at how much she'd unintentionally let slip. His voice made her raise her head once more, this time in shock.
"My fiancé."
The aghast expression on her face was a picture. Then it faded to acute embarrassment as Narcissa turned away with a muttered apology and made to escape back to the ballroom, when suddenly two strong grips at her wrist made her finally look up into his face.
"I've don't even know what she looks like."he said softly, the words explanation and apology both. Narcissa bit her lip doubtfully and peeped up at him through her long lashes.
"Why…Why are you marrying her then?"she said in a very small voice, fighting to hold back the ache of disappointment.
His teeth gleamed white in the darkness, white and almost vicious in a smirk too cruel to be called a smile yet too lovely to be a grimace. He leaned in close, so that his hot breath caressed her cheeks beneath the rim of the mask, tantalising her senses and her skin and leaving her wanting…something, something that she couldn't begin to explain. He breathed the reply across her lips, merciless and mesmerising
"Revenge."
With that single word his fingers tightened cruelly around her wrists, harsh enough to leave her bruised and to force a cry of pain from her parted lips. And as that frightened gasp escaped, he said clearly in voice of steel words that somewhere in her brain she recognised, fleeting and tangible but too fast for her to grasp.
"A chain to hold,…"golden light glowed around the wrists that he still held and all at once the pain from his grip was ten times more, excruciating, unbearable, making her scream silently as he continued
"…And a kiss to seal."
Her eyes opened in sudden fear but it was too late. His handsome head bent faster than the eyes could see and crushed her mouth under his. Hot and scalding, possessive and cruel, Narcissa could barely breath as his lips devoured her, as though claiming her completely as his own. Air escaped in a silent cry and his tongue leapt into the breach, rough velvet dominating her mouth and making her head spin. She was limp and loose in his arms, wrists still clammed in that merciless grip and somewhere in the back of her mind she knew the pain still burned, but all she could feel was the searing heat of his kiss.
And just when she thought she was slipping into a faint, he released her, pressing her trembling figure back against the stone support of the balcony with only a last brush of one icy finger against her cheek.
"Let no other man touch you, my beauty."
The whisper held something of a command and he spoke it with a strange relish. It was accompanied with a cruel gleam of triumph and that deadly smirk but Narcissa didn't see. The pain in her wrist was too great, and now with her head suddenly cleared from the sudden gush of air, it seem to increase tenfold. Dimly she was aware of a voice calling her name in worry, and a tall figure running to her side.
"Narcissa! What the…"
Narcissa looked up, knowing that voice and needing it and sure enough Tristan's handsome face hovered before her eyes, creased in fear, fear for her she realised. She looked up at him gratefully, a smile tilting the corners of her lips despite the pain.
"Tristan, the man…the stranger in the black robes…"
Tristan turned swiftly, casting his sharp angry gaze around the balcony but there was no-one. The stone semi-circle was as silent and empty as the grave, save the poor trembling girl clinging painfully to the balustrade. Her tiny hands lifted to grab the front of his robes, her eyes huge in the darkness with the lingering fear. Tristan couldn't help it he reached out to cup her cheek, simply wanting, needing to somehow reassure her and wipe the terror from her face.
Narcissa leaned into his touch, sighing with the bliss of his comforting hand. But something was wrong. Faint at first but growing faster and faster, a searing pain burnt the place where his skin touched hers, a pain that grew bigger and bigger until she pulled away with a scream from the overwhelming agony. She met Tristan's confusion with a look so stricken it made his heart ache.
"What's happened to me?"
A faint terrified whisper that the boy had no answer for. All he could do was try to help her to her feet without letting his hand touch her bare skin. Narcissa felt her body lean against his frame but already the pain was returning and she started back with a gasp, two gazes wide and helpless under the pale cool gaze of the stars.
In the shadows of the velvet hangings, the cruel, victorious smirk stretched wider than it had in almost four years.
Five hundred miles away, another man smirked that same smirk as he replaced the eagle feather quill of the walnut desk without a glance at the dark-haired man who sat there so numbly. Long silver hair glinted in the candles glow as, underneath the three signatures, the pool of scarlet wax he had just dropped onto the manuscript hardened into the unmistakable indentation of a pair of lips.
As if by magic, the parchment rolled itself up. There was faint golden glow and then, on the outside of the vellum a tiny pattern emerged as though painted by an invisible hand, winding around the scroll to join on the overlapping edge. The man smiled wider still, silver eyes a-gleam in the darkness as he touched the golden ink with almost loving fingers.
As he did so, the miniature golden padlock shut and made the chain complete.
Whew! That really was long, lol. Anyway there it is, Chapter Number 2 and I hope so very very much that you guys liked it. As much as I liked writing it.
To other business, All Over Again Chapter 24 is almost finished as well, which I'm sure people will be pleased about. I was intending on putting them up at the same time but then I felt like rewarding myself a little for finishing this one lol.
As always, read, hopefully enjoy and PLEASE review lol ;) You know it makes me smile quite ridiculously. =)
Lots a luv to you all
Lili
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