6 November 1981
Galway, Ireland
When she woke, Bellatrix saw Voldemort's face beside her. She gasped a little and stirred. How was it possible that she was actually lying here beside him? She couldn't be. He smelled like licorice, like something dark and spicy. She kissed at his shirt a little and felt him move a bit, and he whispered,
"Bella."
She stared at her wedding rings on her left hand, her diamond engagement ring and her platinum wedding band, and she thought of Rodolphus.
"Why are you thinking of him right now?" Voldemort growled, and she realised he'd been inside of her head. She snapped her eyes up to him, to where he was lying with his eyes closed, and she admitted,
"I'm thinking of how he's probably in bed with Edna right now. Master."
"You are mine. My soldier," Voldemort said, his voice a low rumble in the chilly inn room. Bellatrix's lips parted as she stared at him, and at last she nodded and affirmed,
"I belong entirely to you, My Lord."
She bent then and kissed his neck a little, which he seemed to like immensely. He bucked his hips up a little when she did it again, and Bellatrix's hand went on instinct to his underwear. She grazed her knuckles there, over the half-hard cock she could feel through the material, and suddenly Voldemort was digging his teeth into his lip. He opened his eyes for the first time, blinking once or twice, and when he turned his face toward Bellatrix, his gaze was out of focus. Was his vision as bad as all that, she wondered? Why didn't he just fix it with magic?
"It's magic that mucked up the vision, Bella; magic won't put it to rights."
"Oh." Bellatrix didn't understand, but she glanced to the table beside the bed and reached for his thick, black-rimmed glasses. She handed them to Voldemort, who slid them on and scoffed,
"There. Now I can see you. Beautiful."
Bellatrix's eyes welled at that, at him calling her 'beautiful.' She'd never imagined he would ever use such a word with her. But as she grazed her hand around his hardening erection, he shut his eyes behind the lenses of his glasses and mumbled again,
"Beautiful."
He let her pull his cock out from his underwear, which she shoved down. He murmured a lubrication charm and let her pump her hand on him, let her play with his tip and stare and stare and stare. She ogled him like he was fresh meat and she was starving. She studied the veins, the shape of the tip, the length of his shaft, the colour of it all. She sat up and moved her hand briskly, her fingers flying round his tip as her palm caressed his shaft until at last he groaned and shoved his hips up and clutched at the sheets tightly.
"Bella," he said through clenched teeth, and his come leaped out in creamy ropes that landed all over Bellatrix's fingers and wrist. She shivered at the feel of it - warm and smooth - and she tried to register the notion that she had her master's come upon her flesh. She stared at her own hand, at his cock, at his face. She just stared.
Finally he reached for his wand and cleaned them both up as he went soft in her grip, and Bellatrix said quietly,
"I'm sorry, My Lord; I just had the urge to touch you."
"Well. Don't ever apologise for that," he japed, and then his face went serious as he informed her, "I haven't been touched by a witch since I was… well, younger than you are now. It's been decades. I haven't allowed it because it has seemed like an impediment to my climb. But I ought to have allowed it."
"You wish you'd had witches." Bellatrix nodded, and he seemed to carefully consider his words then before he said,
"I wish I had had you."
Bellatrix couldn't breathe for a moment. All those years of wanting him, craving him, needing him, and here he was saying he wished he'd taken her. She blinked back tears and whispered,
"I should go Imperius my mother at once, shouldn't I? Get as much information as we can."
"Yes, you should." Voldemort sat up and reached for his tie, buttoning up his white shirt as he pulled the tie over his head. "Go to London and set up that arrangement we discussed, Bellatrix. I'll handle your husband."
Bellatrix froze for a moment, but then she nodded. "Yes, Master."
8 November 1981
Malfoy Manor
"Rodolphus," said Voldemort as his office door opened. "Do come in."
Rodolphus Lestrange confidently strode into the office, bowed his head, and sat in the chair opposite Voldemort.
"Master," he said warmly. "How may I be of service to you?"
"Who is Edna?" asked Voldemort plainly, and Rodolphus' smile vanished. He cleared his throat and said carefully,
"Edna Rosier, sir. Bellatrix's… erm… second cousin. She's a very dear friend of mine."
"A very dear friend," Voldemort repeated with a nod. "How long have the two of you been very dear friends?"
Rodolphus' cheeks went red, and he mumbled something unintelligible.
"What's that?" snapped Voldemort. "Couldn't hear you, boy."
"I said, sir, that we've been together for about five years."
"Five years." Voldemort's voice was lethally soft then. He raised his eyebrows and shrugged. "Is Bellatrix not enough for you?"
Rodolphus' jaw dropped, and he stammered, "I… she… we were never… we were matched, you understand, so…"
"So you are only moderately attracted to Bellatrix," Voldemort said, narrowing his eyes. "No doubt you're quite pleased that she has to be on an extended contraceptive potion owing to the war. I've no doubt you lack the initiative and the will to procreate with her."
"I do sleep with her, Master," said Rodolphus, sounding humiliated, his hands knitting anxiously in his lap. Voldemort tipped his head.
"I'm aware. I saw it in her mind. Not exactly the most ardently passionate lovemaking I've ever seen. I'm sure you're more excitable with Edna."
"Master." Rodolphus shut his eyes and said carefully, "I am well aware that Bellatrix harbours a long-standing and very strong longing for you, and -"
"She belongs to me in her entirety," Voldemort said in a hiss, and Rodolphus opened his eyes. He nodded, looking frightened, and Voldemort said, "Keep your little Edna. And keep your hands off of Bellatrix. Her body is mine as much as her soul is. She may be your wife according to documentation, Lestrange, but Bellatrix is my creature to do with as I please. And you know damned well that she wants me, not you."
"I do know that." Rodolphus' face had gone white now, and Voldemort sniffed a little as he said,
"Give her her own sleeping space in Castle Lestrange."
"She and I maintain separate quarters, Master," Rodolphus assured him, and Voldemort nodded.
"Keep to Edna. Leave Bellatrix to me."
"Yes, Master," Rodolphus said softly. There was a little knock on the office door then, and Voldemort smirked.
"Enter."
The door opened, and Bellatrix came walking inside. She froze when she saw Rodolphus sitting opposite Voldemort.
"Master," she said quietly, "I did not mean to interrupt."
"You are not interrupting; your husband and I have finished our business. I think we quite understand one another," Voldemort nodded. "Dismissed, Lestrange."
Rodolphus rose and bowed at the waist, and then he nodded respectfully to Bellatrix as he passed by her. When the door opened and shut again, Voldemort folded his hands on his desk and cocked up a brow at Bellatrix.
"Well?"
"Master," she said, looking rather excited, "There is an owl waiting for you in London, at my parents' house. Waiting to be tracked."
Author's Note: Will they find Andromeda? And if they do, will they find the Longbottoms? Duh duh duhhhhh. Gotta love possessive Voldemort, right?
For those who have asked why I write older Voldemort with glasses, here's why - 1) he's 54, and a lot of middle-aged men wear glasses, 2) he's messed with a lot of Dark Magic, which we know has altered his appearance and definitely could mess with his senses, 3) it's just a visual interest thing.
Thanks for reading and reviewing!