Disclaimer: This story is based on characters created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoat Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.
AN:
Thanks to all reviewers! Ah, and I won't be updating for a while, I think, since I have loads to study, but I'll keep writing, and when I have enough to fill a chapter, I'll post it.
Oh, many of you won't like what happens in this chapter, but it's how imagine it would go, so, er… well, I still want to read your opinions, so berate me if you like and launch an angry tirade, I would still highly appreciate a review like that *winks*
And I forgot to clarify something in the previous Author's Note. Becoming a full-fledged Necromancer doesn't mean that Orion will turn into a Dementor-like being. The threat of that was when he had been under the influence of the Resurrection Stone, hungering to consume souls. If Orion became a Necromancer, he would be like Loki and the Guild Necromancers, detached, unemotional, and with no wish to be intimate or close to anyone.
Oh, and someone was right when they said that three -and not four- years had passed between Sirius being Kissed and the present. I miscalculated. But I'll definitely go back to correct it when I find the will and time. Thanks for pointing it out. *grins*
As for those who asked about The Avenger: I will definitely not post any chapters for that fic until I've advanced more on this one, or I'll forget all the details of this fic and end up writing an incongruous mess.
Warning: Explicit Slash Scene.
Chapter 15
Orion nodded, faintly smiled at him and swiftly approached the bed, without bothering to glance at Voldemort, and purposely not doing so. Though, he noticed that Rabastan glanced at his Master, as if gauging if he had his Lord permission to go forth. Whatever Voldemort mutely gestured to the wizard, it was certain that Rabastan had been given carte blanche to proceed since the Death Eater followed him to the bed. Orion's lips thinned into a tight line, but he soon turned his expression into a cool, pleasant one. If Voldemort really didn't care about sharing him, then he wouldn't act as if it affected him or as it mattered at all, despite the sudden sharp pang he felt in his chest.
And if what he had said to Rabastan was all it took to 'seduce' the wizard, it was much easier than he had thought... Kara was right: they, wizards, are truly easy… Immediately, he cleared his mind from such inane thoughts, which were evidently caused by his nervousness - just what he couldn't afford. So he shot Rabastan another smile, this one real and encouraging, and relaxedly sat on the grand bed.
Though, the wizard evidently needed no encouragement. Rabastan had already shrugged off his robes and spelled away his shirt, now standing before him in only standard black, Death Eater pants.
Orion slightly swallowed as his gaze travelled along the wizard's toned chest. Yes, Rabastan was handsome indeed, and strong… Yet, he didn't even feel a small spike of lust. But he never had any problem with that when he was with Voldemort; a single heated glance, show of skin, or huskily hissed word sufficed...
Without being able of refraining himself this time, he furtively glanced at his spouse - and frowned. The wizard had taken a seat in the nearest corner of the room, still only wearing trousers, yet observing them with bored disregard.
Disregard… Orion's jaw clenched, and his resolve to go forth hardened. But wasn't Voldemort going to participate? Instantly, he inwardly shook his head, angry at himself. He wasn't supposed to want Voldemort to participate. He was supposed to enjoy himself and utterly ignore the wizard. Cold indifference towards Voldemort was the key.
But he had worried too soon. Suddenly, Rabastan cupped his face tightly, and meshed their mouths together, slowly licking Orion's lips. The wizard pushed him down on the bed, and Orion closed his eyes and parted his lips. Swiftly, Rabastan prodded his tongue inside, and the kiss became very skilled, deep, passionate and exploring, and Orion started feeling swirls of arousal heating his body. In no time, he felt his trousers disappearing, leaving him only in his boxers and his Hogwarts uniform's tie and shirt, and he opened his eyes, meeting Rabastan's lustful gaze.
"A Gryffindor tie," said the wizard in a rumbling, husky voice, smirking as he played with it. "Still a schoolboy…"
Orion smirked back at him, and said loftily, "Appearances can be deceiving."
"I hope so," muttered Rabastan, before he swiftly ripped away Orion's shirt and flung it to the floor.
The wizard nudged Orion's legs apart, and settled himself in between, a smirk creeping on his face as he unsheathed one of the daggers from his belt and showed it to Orion. Orion, who had been slowly trailing his fingertips along the wizard's smooth, hard chest, stilled and gazed up at him with a frown.
"Tell me, Orion," said Rabastan in a deep voice, intently boring his chestnut eyes into his while his smirk widened, "have you ever participated in blood play?"
"No," replied Orion quietly, eyeing the blade with unease. "Nor do I want to-"
"That's because you don't know how pleasurable it can be," interrupted Rabastan huskily, as he slowly swept the dagger's blade along Orion's neck.
Orion felt a slight, slicing pain, but refrained from wincing while he noticed that the wizard was intently watching the cut, as if entranced.
"So the rumors are true," whispered Rabastan, his fascinated gaze fixed on the thin cut while he prolonged it with his dagger's blade. "It's healing almost instantly… you do have vampire blood in you…"
And then, the wizard pressed his body on top of Orion's and slowly swept a warm tongue along the cut, lapping the small drops of blood. Orion made a sound at the back of his throat, and tightly gripped Rabastan's shoulders as the wizard pressed the dagger along his collarbone and heatedly licked the new wound.
Abruptly, Rabastan placed two fingers at the pulse point of Orion's throat, and he smirked. Orion could feel it as well, and he was slightly surprised: his pulse was hammering against the wizard's fingertips, and it was also starting to throb between his thighs - a scorching, overpowering rhythm that demanded fulfillment. The hand on his throat, the hand he suddenly longed to have touching all over, adjusted so that the thumb could brush the soft, small hairs at his nape, and Orion's lips parted in a silent gasp at the innocent yet heated touch.
Rabastan kissed him again, more leisurely this time, closing his eyes as if savoring the feel of Orion's lips against his. And Orion closed his eyes in pleasure as well, while he tasted his own blood in the wizard's warm mouth, feeling a sensation of languorous sensuality. He felt the dagger's blade sinking along his torso, until it reached his hip and suddenly ripped his boxers. Swiftly, still with their mouths locked in a slow, deep kiss, he felt Rabastan grinding his groin against his naked erection, but Orion abruptly stilled when he felt a wet fingertip prodding near his entrance.
He instantly opened his eyes and pulled away from the kiss, coming back to his senses. This wasn't how it would be. And he shook his head while he pushed against Rabastan's chest with his hands.
"No," said Orion hoarsely. "I've always wanted to try something, and I want to try it with you. I'm the one who's going to top."
Rabastan stilled, meeting his gaze with a frown on his face. "I don't usually bottom-"
"But you are going to do it for me," interrupted Orion in soft, silky voice, while a grin tugged his lips.
He slowly caressed the wizard's squared jaw, allowing some of his dark magic to surface to his fingertips, and he felt Rabastan's muscles twitching under his touch while the wizard's lips parted in a haggard intake of breath. And Orion's grin became a smirk. He knew it would work: all dark wizards were enticed by the feel of powerful dark magic, and Rabastan wasn't an exception.
"Aren't you?" pressed on Orion, as he kept tantalizingly caressing the wizard's face.
"Yes," murmured Rabastan huskily, his chestnut eyes heavily lidded.
Orion's smirk widened, and he briefly paused to shoot Voldemort a glance. The wizard was fixedly staring at them, but hadn't moved from his seat and his expression was blank, utterly unaffected by the proceedings, as if indifferent to the whole matter. Orion's lips thinned, but he stopped caring about Voldemort and he shifted in the bed, swiftly pushing Rabastan against it on his stomach.
He slowly inspected the wizard's toned, muscled back and quickly flicked a wrist, making Rabastan's pants and belt slide away to be carelessly flung to the floor. Then he ripped his own tie, rendering both of them fully naked, and caressed the wizard's low back. He noticed, with slight annoyance, that Rabastan had a much larger and taller body than himself, but it soon stopped mattering when the wizard let out an impatient, lusty groan which shot a wave of arousal through his groin.
"No need to be careful," said Rabastan in a raspy, deep voice. "Or to dally any longer…"
Orion arched an eyebrow, but he didn't think about it twice and swiftly casted a lubrication charm on Rabastan's entrance. And without another hitch of breath, he started to slowly prod his erection inside.
Then, he wormed an arm under and around the wizard's waist, slightly pulling him up, and he heavily groaned in pleasure as he pushed his arousal deeper in, feeling it instantly surrounded by an unbearably tight, heated warmth. Finally, he shoved all his way inside, hard and without any considerations, and he dropped a kiss on Rabastan's nape as the wizard slightly tensed and groaned.
Abruptly, he felt a mildly painful twitch on his invisible scar, and Orion halted while he side-glanced at Voldemort. But the wizard's face remained expressionless, so his confused frown disappeared, and he went back to press himself further deeper into Rabastan's body. The wizard shivered as Orion started to pull out, leaving only the head of his arousal inside Rabastan's tight warmth. And he licked the Death Eater's spine at the same time that he snapped his hips to slam all his way back into Rabastan. A loud groan was ripped from the wizard's throat, and Orion kept plunging in and out, with his eyes tightly closed in scorching pleasure, finally discovering why Voldemort liked to top so much and realizing –with some surprise- that he liked this position just as much as bottoming. Being in control was invigorating, and dominating another wizard provoked in him a thrilling sense of overpowering dominance and superiority. A pleased smirk spread over Orion's features. Yes, he definitely liked topping…
Suddenly, Rabastan writhed and shuddered, letting out a long litany of husky, lewd words, and Orion knew that he had struck the wizard's pleasure spot. So he angled his thrusts the same way, and continued to ram into the wizard in powerful, deep and swift plunges.
Rabastan was now weakly supporting himself on elbows and widely parted knees, while Orion kept thrusting into him from behind, as their moans and groans meshed together and echoed throughout the bedroom. Still, Orion felt the pain in his scar increasing and bristling, and as much as it fleetingly confused him, he paid it no mind, and he tightened his arm around Rabastan's waist as he continued.
Every plunge into the wizard's body felt mindlessly good with scorching waves of pleasure, but it was nothing like what he always felt with Voldemort - the roaring pleasure consuming, their mating threateningly dangerous, the clash and mesh of their auras of dark magic enticingly fascinating, the pleasant vibration of the rising of the piece of soul inside him, the heated provoked by hissed words, the frenzied pulse of blood rushing through his veins, the acceleration of his heart thumping in his chest… of all that wasn't happening, but, nevertheless, Orion felt boiling rolls of pleasure swamping him every time Rabastan's body clenched around, and slickly swallowed, his throbbing arousal.
And Rabastan kept responding to him, thrusting back to meet each lunge, obscenely voicing his pleasure, and squeezing Orion's arousal with his gripping, internal muscles, with moves astonishing in their erotic power.
At last, feeling his climax imminent, Orion crept his free hand under Rabastan and he tightly wrapped his fingers around the wizard's painfully hard erection. It seemed that only his touch was enough, for when he gripped the swollen tip of Rabastan's hardness the Death Eater snapped his head back and let out a loud, guttural cry, spilling himself into Orion's hand. Rabastan seemed to scream in pleasure until his lungs burned and his throat ached, before he weakly slumped on the bed. And seconds later, Orion moaned and tightly closed his eyes over his blurry vision, as his own arousal was gripped in the wizard's pulsating and tightly convulsing warmth, and he thrust hard a few more times before he felt his own release filling Rabastan's snug body. He spilled himself deep inside, in ecstatic pulses as he reached cresting climaxes, his blood rushing through his veins and his heart stammering at the same time that he gushed out his release.
Finally, utterly spent, Orion slumped on top of Rabastan, his chest -covered by a thin veil of sweat- sliding against the wizard's back, as he felt the Death Eater's low, haggard breathing. He pressed his forehead against the wizard's warm nape, and caressed the drenched, long locks of hair, as both their thumping hearts slowed down and their breathing evened out.
Then Orion nuzzled into Rabastan's neck, dropped a kiss on the tender area, and murmured, "That was amazing."
Rabastan made a hoarse sound of agreement, and pressed one side of his heated, manly face against the fluffy pillow, to shoot Orion a smirk of absolute satisfaction and languorous contentment.
Abruptly, Orion felt, even through his hazy satiation, an unbearably sharp pain slicing through his scar, and he didn't have the time to understand the reason for it when a firm grasp ripped him out from Rabastan's body and aggressively threw him against the bed, facing down.
The grip around his nape was punishing, and the sound of a zipper going down was ominous and sparked something of a past, distant memory, but Orion didn't have time to voice his complaint before he felt a hard, thick erection ramming into him, without preparation. He gritted his teeth, and tightly closed his eyes, too gone to even care, since he instantly felt waves of burning pleasure rushing through his body. But with each brutal thrust into him, he distantly realized that the one taking him from behind was Voldemort, and that the increasing pain scorching through his invisible scar was caused by the wizard's fury.
Voldemort was angry? Jealous, perhaps? He didn't quite understand, this whole thing had been the wizard's idea. But Voldemort kept savagely ramming into him, hissing angrily, and painfully tightening his grip on Orion's nape, pinning him in place.
Suddenly, through the blackness of his tiredly closed eyelids, Orion had a flash of a recollection which had been previously spurred by the sound of a zipper going down. The circumstances weren't the same at all, but he briefly experienced it again – Regulus' rape, and the emotional pain that accompanied it. But he forced himself to realize that he wasn't feeling emotional pain at present, just slight physical one meshed with heated pleasure and with the vibration of the pulsing connection of the piece of soul inside him with the one in Voldemort and with the one in the pendant that the wizard was wearing. And he purposely closed his eyes tighter and fortified his Occlumency barriers, allowing Voldemort to keep ramming into him, since he wanted to only feel pleasure even if the wizard was taking him in anger, for he didn't want to be wrapped in the painful confusion of mistaking this experience with the one of his past self... That would only lead him to a downward-spiraling lost of his current self – what he feared the most…
Voldemort thrusted hard, snarling as he pounded into Orion, as if his senses had fled and animalistic lust and fury had overcome him. His fingers dug into the slender hips like claws, yanking Orion back with every thrust. He snapped his hips back and forth, hissing into Orion's ear, stretching himself along Orion's back and thrusting madly.
Suddenly, one hand twisted in Orion's thick hair and pulled, roughly exposing his throat.
"You went through with it," hissed Voldemort irately, grinding harder into Orion, "And that, along with everything you've done lately, is something I cannot forgive. And now, I'm going to mount you, conquer you, and punish you as I should have done long ago." With every word he delivered another merciless thrust. "Feel me, Orion. Feel. Every. Inch."
He sank his teeth into Orion's shoulders, pistoning into the body beneath him hard enough to bruise Orion's hips, as his nails left scratching grooves in the flesh. Orion was twisting under him, no longer breathing loudly in pleasure, but becoming desperate as Voldemort pounded the spot inside of him that blasted light across his vision. And when Voldemort impaled him one more time before painfully withdrawing, still hard and making Orion wince, he started battling the hazy myriad of pleasure which veiled his mind, since he was distantly starting to understand and suspect his spouse's real motives and actions...
"Use his mouth," said Voldemort coldly to Rabastan, who had been observing them with content satiation, not noticing that anything was wrong.
"No - stop," wheezed out Orion, as his senses began to come back to him.
Voldemort yanked him up by the hair, piercing him with enraged crimson eyes, and hissed, "There will be no pleasure for you, my little serpent. I'm going to take you repeatedly, and make you pay. Rabastan will use your mouth and I'll take you from behind. Then, we'll take you both at the same time. And you'll learn what pain and punishment truly means."
In the bat of an eyelash, Orion was aggressively flung to Rabastan, who now looked confused and troubled, yet obeyed by tightly gripping Orion's shoulders. It was then when everything finally clicked into place, with Voldemort's words sinking into his mind with clarity, and Orion realized his own stupidity.
As Voldemort took position behind him, painfully grasping his hips, he felt a frisson of panic at the resurging flash of Regulus' memory. It wasn't the same case, not the same circumstances, but the similarities with Regulus' rape were there. But above any sense of panic, he felt fury as he had never felt before. Fury and hatred bubbled inside Orion, blazing white-hot, while he felt all-encompassing waves of his dark magic violently swirling inside him.
And in a flash, despite the languidness caused by his former satiation, Orion jumped away from them to stand on the floor, not with wobbly legs, but rigidly firm.
"NEVER WITHOUT MY PERMISSION, you hear?!" roared Orion enraged, his blazing emerald gaze locking with Voldemort's. "WHEN I SAY 'STOP', YOU OBEY!"
And without giving Voldemort a second to defend himself, he shot a palm forward and allowed all his bubbling dark magic to rush out and strike the wizard. Instantly, Voldemort let out a brief, sharp scream as he was propelled against the floor in a whirlpool of wild, ravaging dark magic, before he dug his teeth into his lips to mute his voiced pain. And Orion shivered with dark pleasure as he kept loosely controlling his powers, making Voldemort experience an agony worse than the one cause by a Cruciatus Curse. Agony through every single nerve-ending of the wizard's body, pain to wreck the wizard's mind, yet nothing that would leave traces in the exterior flesh of the man's body. No, the agony would be bristling and boiling deep inside Voldemort, lingering for many days.
Orion kept observing the convulsing wizard with profound satisfaction and impassivity, and for the first time ever, he truly enjoyed and basked in inflicting cruel pain. He felt his dark magic swirling violently inside him, fueled by his anger, roaring and wishing to rip, kill, destroy the wizard before him… Yet, he didn't allow it to go so far… And unbeknownst to him, his green eyes had changed - without consciously calling forth his Necromantic abilities- into glowing pools of pure blackness, as he kept unleashing his unique dark magic in its wild form, like he had done during his breakthrough training session with Grindelwald. His dark magic not restrained by taking any elemental form, but more powerful by being left purely wild and formless.
And Voldemort finally broke, suddenly letting out a piercing scream of agony. His body convulsing, his arms and legs snapping against the floor, and the crimson eyes flashing with wrecking pain and insane fury, but also with an undecipherable emotion – fear? of him? some sort of inexplicable concern? for him? a little bit of both?
Orion didn't know, and didn't care. And he only closed his palm into a fist, and recalled his unique dark magic, when he saw Voldemort losing consciousness as the wizard's eyelids fluttered down jerkily. Then, a gasp made him turn around.
Rabastan's widened gaze was fixed on Voldemort's form, looking perplexed, stunned, and confused about what he should do. The wizard's cautious trepidation was almost palpable. Nevertheless, Orion didn't pay much attention to him, and he simply jerked his wrist and wandlessly clothed the wizard in his Death Eater ensemble, accompanied by the belt with the wizard's sheathed daggers.
"My Lord – My Lord Black," muttered Rabastan, giving Orion a low bow, shifting his weight uneasily from one leg to the other.
At that, Orion did glance at him, surprised. That was the first time a Death Eater had truly addressed him as 'My Lord Black'. Rodolphus Lestrange sometimes called him 'Lord Black' but it was done in the wizard's particular jeering and playful manner. Moreover, Bellatrix and other Death Eaters only called him 'Lord Black' when Voldemort was around. And the difference in the mode of address was enormous, the awed and true respect implicit, since Rabastan had first called him 'My Lord' and then 'My Lord Black', and not simply 'Lord Black'.
And Orion knew, with a realization that struck him hard in its foretelling consequences, that this moment was the beginning of something much greater – the start of what he saw in his visions, when they called him 'Lord Black' in fierce zealousness and passionate devotion. Since he knew that at having rendered Voldemort unconscious he had proved just how powerful he was, also proving that he had the guts to do it, and that Rabastan was surely going to mention it in Death Eater ranks. Rabastan wouldn't be stupid enough to tell the details, since Voldemort was still his Lord, and feared, but the wizard would surely let others Death Eaters know, by subtle and vague gossip, that he had bested their Master. Trading information and favors was something frequently done in Death Eater ranks, and Rabastan would be considered a desired ally with this tasty bit of gossip, and the wizard was aware of it and was going to use it to gain prestige in Death Eater ranks.
For minute, Orion considered ordering Rabastan to keep his mouth shut since he truly didn't want to rid Voldemort of his influence. But, he quickly dismissed the notion. This had to happen eventually and it worked in his favor that Death Eaters finally became aware of the extent of his abilities and powers. Moreover, with this, Death Eaters would consider him an equal to Voldemort or someone even beyond the wizard, but they wouldn't instantly change loyalties unless he expressly demanded it. Death Eaters were nothing if not slyly cautious and they wouldn't shift from one Master to another without being certain that the new Master wanted them.
Therefore, he merely gazed at Rabastan, and said coolly, "Leave."
Rabastan briefly glanced at him, before bowing again and swiftly leaving the bedroom, not needing to be told twice, and seemingly quite glad and eager to do so.
Once the door closed, Orion didn't even glance at Voldemort's prone form. He simply accioed his wand and pulled a silk, thin robe over his body. He knew he couldn't leave Riddle Manor without discussing what had happened with Voldemort –it would only make it worst- but he would take some time to think matters through. Thus, he would wait for the wizard to naturally regain his consciousness, because, quite frankly, he needed time to cool down and he didn't want to deal with the wizard at present.
So Orion impassively stepped over Voldemort's form and left the bedroom, whilst musing where he should go to wait for the wizard, without feeling remotely concerned about Voldemort's subsequent state of mind or body.
It was pleasantly breezy outside the manor. The mid-May spring night starry, the air warm without being stifling, and the darkness cozy. And in his ponderings, Orion's feet had taken him to a place he had never been before: the cemetery near Riddle Manor. It was a dark, overgrown graveyard; the black outline of a small church was visible beyond a large yew tree to the right, a hill rose above to the left, and Orion could see the outline of the fine, old Riddle Manor on the hillside.
Almost an hour had passed, and Voldemort –who had undoubtedly recovered consciousness by now- had not yet made an appearance. But Orion found himself not caring, while he explored with interest one grave that had caught his attention.
With the flicker of his wandlight, Orion saw a name upon the towering marble headstone: Tom Riddle. And he arched an eyebrow. So the tomb contained the decayed bones of Voldemort's muggle father...
Suddenly, a sound of muffled steps came to his ears, and he calmly turned around and leaned on the headstone, as he watched a figure drawing nearer, walking steadily toward him between the graves.
Orion didn't even bother squinting in the darkness to discover who it was, since he knew that Voldemort could easily feel him, and find him, anywhere close by. For a second, the figure paused besides a grave, before it took a step forward to be bathed in the dim moonlight.
And Orion inspected him closely. Voldemort was fully dressed, and nothing in his fluid, graceful movements or closed expression gave away any hint of lingering pain. The wizard's darkly handsome features were blankly expressionless, and the crimson eyes watched him with calm coldness.
"You attacked me with your dark magic – again," hissed Voldemort conversationally, while taking one more step closer.
"Because you were about to rape me," said Orion impassively, regarding him with measured indifference. Then he quirked an eyebrow, and hissed calmly, "I wonder, Tom, how many of those who got personally close to you, and who betrayed you in your opinion, have been raped by you or by your orders."
"I have never raped you," hissed Voldemort sharply, narrowing his crimson eyes, yet halting a few feet away from him. "I wasn't going to rape you either-"
Orion scoffed, and interjected nonchalantly, "You would have, hadn't I stopped you." He pierced the wizard with a hard gleam in his eyes. "You wanted to use sex as a means of punishment – that's nothing if not rape, Tom."
"It would have been punishment but not rape," hissed Voldemort in curt and deadly quiet tone of voice. He intently gazed at him, and sneered, "And I have taught you the refinements of feeling pleasure in sexual pain, so I think you would have enjoyed it, nonetheless."
"I enjoy mild pain if it's not inflicted as punishment," said Orion sternly, narrowing his eyes at him. "And you know it. So cut through the bullshit, Tom. Furthermore, your whole 'threesome' suggestion was nothing but a test. You never really meant for me to be with others-"
"Of course I didn't," snarled Voldemort irately, his crimson eyes flashing with anger. "I never share. I simply wanted to see if you would go through with it." He eyed him with contempt, and said scathingly, "And you obviously could. Your whorish wantonness seemingly knows no boundaries, even disregarding marital ones."
Orion gritted his teeth, but forced himself to be unaffected by those words, without taking the barbed bait. He wouldn't act in brash anger, for he needed to remain collected in order to discuss matters effectively. And because, frankly, he was tired of always fighting with him.
With a deep, exhausted sigh, he pierced Voldemort with his eyes, and gestured between them. "I cannot endure a lifetime of this. Not how it's currently going on. I'm tired of it, Tom. I'm sick of it-"
In a flash, Voldemort had pressed him against the towering headstone, gripping Orion's chin, his crimson eyes flashing in anger, as he hissed vehemently, "YOU are sick of this? I have given you EVERYTHING! I could have made you a Death Eater, my pet, my catamite, my prisoner, or my whore. Instead, I acknowledged your power and importance and made you my spouse – my EQUAL. I've given you everything, and yielded to your wishes countless of times, yet it's not enough for you! What do you want? I no longer know!"
Orion firmly closed his mouth shut, and slightly frowned at him, realizing the truth of the wizard's words. Yet, Voldemort was right; it wasn't enough, since he wasn't always treated as an equal and since he wanted more. But maybe what he wanted – to know that Voldemort not only appreciated and cared for him but that the wizard also felt something deeper for him, such as love- was pointless and useless, if not ridiculous. Perhaps he should simply accept that 'love' was something he would never obtain from him. He knew he could have it from others – from Draco… and Lezander, hoping truly that Lezander's feelings hadn't changed and that the vampire remembered. Moreover, maybe he shouldn't look to love and be loved back, at all. Grindelwald had told him to seek it, and indulge in it, while he could, before attempting to undergo the Vindico test. But perhaps he was already too far ahead to even have it, or still want it, anymore.
"What do you want?" hissed Voldemort sharply, piercing him with crimson eyes while his fingers loosely wrapped around Orion's neck. "What are you doing? Whatever it is, it's pushing you against me, and I am tired of that! I'm tired of not being given explanations, of you constantly going behind my back, and of you keeping secrets from me."
"And what do you want from me?" interjected Orion, purposely spinning it around since he didn't quite know what to tell him.
Voldemort narrowed his eyes at him, and hissed quietly, "The truth – the truth about what you have been doing."
Orion's frown deepened, as he considered what, and how much, to say. But then, abruptly, Voldemort painfully tightened his grasp around Orion's neck, and hissed irately, "And you still won't tell me… I should choke you to death, since I would take more pleasure in killing you with my bare hands."
"What stops you from trying?" countered Orion nonchalantly, gazing at him with supreme impassiveness.
"Nothing," hissed Voldemort sharply, his crimson eyes darkening, yet he loosened his grasp. Suddenly, he smirked, and said in a venomously silky voice, "But you are my horcrux, my little serpent. Much to my regret, I can't kill you."
Abruptly, Voldemort pinned him further against the headstone, his smirk widening in dangerous deviousness while he tightly gripped Orion's wrists in his hands. "Despite everything, I won't kill you – yet. But if you keep pushing me, I will. Nevertheless, I have other uses for you, and even if I'm not willing to kill you at present, I can, however, punish you…. I should have done this when we were with Rabastan." His smirk twisted into a vicious and slightly self-reproaching thing. "I was too considerate to have done so. Not anymore."
Not liking what he was hearing, Orion struggled against the painfully hard grip around his wrists, immediately preparing himself to use his dark magic. But, suddenly, his wrists glowed in a faint silver light, forming a sort of dim handcuffs around them.
"You think your strange dark magic is unbeatable," hissed Voldemort into Orion's ear, as he pressed his groin against his. "But I told you I would find a way to restrain you. You shouldn't have underestimated me, my little serpent."
Orion gasped and his eyes grew with alarm, as he repeatedly tried to shot forth his dark magic but something immediately blocked it, causing painful waves to course throughout his body. He tried to claw the fingers around his wrist, so that he could reach and use his wand, also trying to accio it wandlessly, but no magic came forth, and he started to struggle frantically, while Voldemort merely observed him with cruel amusement.
Finally, he gritted his teeth, and snarled enraged, "Release me – take them off me!"
Voldemort chuckled viciously, and hissed silkily into his neck, "I won't. Oh, and this won't be me raping you. This will be me using you like a whore – because you certainly don't deserve to be treated like my spouse. Spouses share plans, and don't keep secrets. Therefore, I'll show you what you have lost in your disregard. And you'll learn to value the position I gave you. And you'll beg me to treat you like my spouse once again. If you behave, perhaps I will – someday. "
Instantly, the wizard lifted Orion's thin, silk robe, baring him naked from the waist down, while he summarily lowered his trouser's zipper.
"No!" roared Orion frenziedly, frantically trying to break loose. "I won't be able to stop it – I will see it happening again! Don't do this, Tom! I won't be able to restrain it-"
But his words seemed to land on deaf ears, since he instantly felt a flare of pain tearing into him, as Voldemort thrusted himself in, while hissing haggardly into his ear, "Don't worry… I'll be magnanimous and give you some pleasure."
Orion made a choking sound at the back of his throat, and tightly scrunched his eyes shut against the spurred assault of images and painful sensations… He never stopped trying to push them away, tightening his Occlumency mind barriers, and he never stopped trying to struggle free from Voldemort's hold, trying unsuccessfully to use his magic, but the avalanche swept into his mind, regardless… The sound of zippers being pulled down, the pain of being tied by hissings snake to the stone altar, the repeated brutal push of Death Eaters into his body, the caring and surreptitious caress of Lucius Malfoy, Severus' pleading command echoing in his mind, the cruel jeers of others, the crimson eyes coldly observing how he was continuously raped, and the crippling agony of the thrusts, as his resolution hardened and he glanced at the shard of glass, his only means of escape and blissful oblivion…
All of those images, feelings, emotions, and thoughts, confusedly meshing with the distant pleasure caused by Voldemort's current thrusts into him, accompanied by the wizard's sharp hissed words into his ear…unintelligible, yet clearly angrily punishing… And frantically, Orion tried his last hope, and he plunged himself into the detached and cold mantle of his Necromantic abilities, being able to spur them frenziedly inside of him, despite not being able to use them outwardly… And abruptly, all images and painful recollections slowly faded from his mind, like a thick, sluggish veil, and he knew true peace for a moment and loudly exhaled…
"Don't try to use Occlumency to escape from this," hissed Voldemort sharply, slamming Orion's head against the towering headstone. "Open your eyes - Look at me!"
Hazily, slowly becoming aware of his present circumstances, Orion unwittingly obeyed, foggily gazing up at the wizard.
Voldemort's crimson eyes marginally widened, and he abruptly pulled himself out from Orion, tightly gripping his chin as he roared madly, "No! You will stop using your Necromantic abilities!" He aggressively and wildly shook him, "Do you hear – Orion?!"
Orion merely silently gazed up at him, feeling nothing but complete and blissfully cold detachment. He wasn't even angry at what Voldemort had done, he even fleetingly understood that it was Voldemort's twisted and desperate way of trying to have a greater hold over him, of trying to make him obey, to have him back, but yet, it didn't quite matter, for he had found a method to push away the recollections of his past reincarnations. And that filled him with a sort of mild contentment, and triumph, though he knew he couldn't rely on it forever.
"Stop using your abilities – turn your eyes to normal!" hissed Voldemort irately. "By still using your Necromantic powers you're worsening your own situation, since I won't allow you to become a full-fledged Necromancer. So came back to yourself – now!"
"Then release me," said Orion indifferently, distantly realizing that Voldemort looked badly shaken, though perhaps it had been a figment of his imagination since the wizard's features turned expressionlessly cold, instantly.
Voldemort took a step back and casually waved a hand, and Orion slumped against the headstone while he immediately felt the difference, as the handcuff-like silver glows disappeared from his wrists. He felt his dark magic violently and animatedly swirling and rising inside him, as if overflowing and breaking through a dam. Yet, he tightly controlled it and also settled down his Necromantic powers. Leaving him devoid from the pleasant detachment, but more aware of what had happened.
Nevertheless, despite the rage he instantly felt at what Voldemort had done, his fury was a cold and calm one, and he did nothing except impassively gaze back at the wizard as he wandlessly accioed the clothes he had left in Voldemort's bedroom. Once clothed again in his Hogwarts' uniform, he glanced up to meet the wizard's gaze.
"I should kill you for taking me against my will," hissed Orion coldly, his jaw clenching while he pierced him with a hard gleam in his eyes.
Voldemort's crimson eyes narrowed, and he hissed sharply, "What stops you from trying?"
"Nothing," replied Orion, the allusion to their past trade of words not escaping him.
And he slightly frowned at the wizard. Yes, Voldemort had been shaken by his use of Necromancy, believing he had used those abilities to escape from what Voldemort was doing to him, when in truth he had just been trying to push away the memories... So Voldemort truly didn't want him to become a full-fledged Necromancer. Was it due to concern? Because the wizard didn't want him to be unemotional and detached? Probably, but it made no difference. He wasn't going to change his plans.
Orion narrowed his eyes at him, and said curtly, "I will find out a way to break that spell you used to restrain my magic. Don't believe I wasn't capable of it now because I'm not powerful enough. I am, and next time, trust me when I say that I'll be myself and easily accomplish it. My dark magic will never be so easily blocked, by you or anyone else. It simply can't – it's unparalleled."
A sneer spread on Voldemort's face, yet he waved a hand lazily, as if dismissing the subject, and he took a menacing step towards Orion.
"You will not become a full-fledged Necromancer," he stated in a sharp, commanding hiss.
Orion arched an eyebrow, before he smirked at him. "I will, and there's nothing you can do to stop it from happening."
"Why?" hissed Voldemort, the muscles of his jaw clenching, as he pierced him with enraged crimson eyes. "Why do you wish to become a Necromancer so fiercely? Don't tell me it's to have more power – I don't believe it's that simple! You've never mindlessly coveted and hungered for power just for the sake of it. Why are you doing it?"
Orion's first impulsive wish was to fling back a 'I'm doing it for you! Because I don't want to kill you, and becoming a Necromancer is the only way to obtain more power and spare you.' And thus finally telling him all what he had kept a secret: about the Hallows, the Spirits, and the Vindico Atrum matter. But he didn't say that, because somewhere along the path from mind to mouth, his thoughts had shifted gear and he had realized the truth: that those words were no longer, indeed, true.
He wanted to become the Vindico for himself. And even though there was the threat that the 'pull' of his dark magic would eventually drive him insane if he didn't try to become the Vindico, he knew there were other options. Grindelwald had circumvented that for decades, by allowing to be defeated so that Dumbledore would place him a in cell with wards that muted Grindelwald's dark magic – thus, not feeling the pull. Orion would never resort to something that drastic, but he hadn't really looked for alternatives which would abate the 'pull'. And now, he didn't want to, because he really wished to become the Vindico; regardless of Voldemort and anyone else. He wanted it, for himself. And he was so close to it… just a Hallow away… And though he was tired from keeping secrets that constantly made him argue and fight with Voldemort, he wasn't willing to jeopardize all what he had accomplished. He only needed a few more months, and when he finally ripped the Elder Wand from Dumbledore's dead hands, he would tell Voldemort everything, at last… He just needed a few more months…
"What are you doing, Orion?" hissed Voldemort quietly, piercing him with his eyes, and there was a very slight hint of beseech that didn't escape Orion's notice, as much as the wizard didn't want to let it be known. "What are you doing behind my back? I'm giving you a chance of telling me now."
"You are," said Orion impassively, his resolve hardening. "But I can't tell you. I will once I'm done with a few things."
"I see," hissed Voldemort, his expression turning icily cold. "Very well, my little serpent, it's your choice – one you'll come to regret." Suddenly, he dug out something from his robes and carelessly flung it to Orion. "Take it, and give to Dumbledore the memory you supposedly coaxed from Slughorn."
Orion deftly caught the stoppered vial in mid air, and briefly glanced at it to see a silver swirl floating inside, before he pocketed it. "Thanks, I will."
"Good," hissed Voldemort sharply, eyeing him with supreme indifference. "Now leave."
Orion frowned, a bit perplexed. "What – that's it?"
"As I told you, my patience with you has come to an end."
"Meaning?" said Orion, his frown deepening.
"Meaning," sneered Voldemort contemptuously, "that I'm done with you, Orion."
Orion gazed at him intently, feeling a sharp twinge of slight desperation, sorrow, and grieving regret, and he muttered quietly, "So this is it, then? We're over?"
"Over?" hissed Voldemort silkily, his voice dripping with snide. "Oh, no, we're never going to be over. You're still my horcrux – mine, in all ways that matter. Nevertheless, I will not further trouble myself with you. Do as you like. Become a full-fledged Necromancer. I don't really care. I know you'll always support the Dark." He chuckled sharply and mirthlessly. "I'm sure of it because you know that you can't turn to Dumbledore. You know he'll only try to use you, and that's something you don't want. So now that I'm allowing you to part ways, I will not be concerned by it."
Orion stared at him, saying nothing, and Voldemort's features darkened while he bore his crimson eyes into Orion's green ones, and hissed with impatient anger, "Isn't this what you wanted? To be free from me? Well, my little serpent, you've accomplished it. I'm no longer regarding you as my spouse – how could I, when you haven't acted as one, blatantly and evidently?" He scoffed, and hissed indifferently, "No, I'm not going to consider you my spouse any longer. And when I have the time for it, I'll undo our magical marital bond. It's relatively simple. I will only need the acquiescence of our five bonders. And I will either convince or force them. From henceforth, you'll be, if you like, an ally of the Dark, free to move independently yet serving our same goals. Is that agreeable to you?"
"I … er," said Orion hesitantly, a deep frown spreading over his forehead.
"Isn't it?!" hissed Voldemort sharply, instantly tightly gripping Orion's chin and lifting it to pierce him with a demanding, narrowed crimson gaze. "You should be happily gloating, my little serpent. Isn't this what you wanted all along? Well, you have it. I'm tired of this mockery of a marriage too. I honestly gave it a try, yet I should have known that neither of us was prepared for it. And, most especially, that you weren't truly willing to yield as much as I have. Thus, I'm releasing you from any commitment towards me, except your link to me as my horcrux and your support to me since I am the Dark Lord. You'll be my ally, our union of supporters now truly just a political and war matter."
"I understand," said Orion quietly, firmly meeting his intense, piercing gaze. "If that's want you want, then it's agreeable to me."
"Of course is it," hissed Voldemort, contemptuously releasing Orion's chin. "Now leave."
Orion hesitated, and finally said, "Okay, but when the time is right, I will truly tell you all about what I have been doing. You think that I didn't take our marital union seriously, but that's not the case. What I told you was true-"
"What – your manipulative, unfelt, and pathetic words of love?" hissed Voldemort snidely, his expression twisting into one of cruel mockery.
Orion clamped his mouth shut. He hadn't been alluding to that at all, and he didn't like to be reminded of it. It was too raw, still. Yet, he wondered that the wizard had it so present in his mind. And that Voldemort had brought it up at this crucial time – their obvious parting of ways, despite the reluctance that Orion felt. But he knew that it was probably a good idea to distance themselves for a while, because everything just keep turning worse and uglier between them... Nevertheless, the reminder of his love-confession felt like a blade twisting in an already open wound. Moreover, he wasn't willing to discuss his former 'declaration of love' or to insist that it had been honest and true. Not now, and maybe never.
Therefore, with a cold expression on his face, he hissed impassively, "Right. They were unfelt. So I guess we have nothing left to discuss. You'll sever our magical bond and we'll no longer be spouses. I will be your ally and fight for the Dark - that's all what matters."
And without glancing back at him, he swiftly closed his eyes, quickly concentrated, and instantly apparated away.
