Small Beginnings
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
She started by tickling
his palm with her little finger during the ceremony. What had his father gotten
him into? Her voice had remained steady, almost
harmonic to his and her kiss had been chaste. She stood before him, 18 years
old and about to make a vow that would bind her to him forever. She seemed
extremely nervous, but willing enough. She had smiled at him. That was
promising.
Her hands had begun to
shake before he leaned over to kiss her. He felt her shiver under him. He
pulled back and smiled at her, looking into her eyes this time. She returned
the smile but was blushing such a bright crimson she
seemed to radiate heat. Enchanting.
He motioned with his head
towards the crowd and she nodded. They turned towards all the waiting eyes and
raised their wands.
The high vaulted ceiling
seemed to be carved out of a single piece of marble, many arches tapering down
to thin support beams, no wider than an inch. Runes etched in the supports
began to glow deep red. Confetti of pure gold flakes rained upon the crowd as
they rose from their seats, cheering to the couple. Lucius gave a short bow to
his bride and turned to face her father.
Cygnus Black stood at 5'6,
white haired and mustached. His deep burgundy robes swam around him.
"Sir," Lucius
began. "I promise you that I will dedicate the rest of my life to pleasing
your daughter."
Black held his hand out to
Lucius and chuckled.
"Hope you're up for a
challenge, son," he said, eyes twinkling.
Lucius did not take that
as a good sign.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The reception went
smoothly. Narcissa was a capable dancer, she was well read and up do date with
current events. She managed to discuss controversial
subjects without seeming to take a firm stand anywhere. She sipped wine
throughout the evening without becoming embarrassing. He was impressed. His
father had thought of his career. Finally he had acknowledged Lucius had a
chance to climb the ladder in the Ministry.
Narcissa was quite lovely.
She seemed shy when addressing him, friendly when thanking friends for
attending. She seemed to remember details about every dignitary attending and
congratulated them on recent births in their families, business transactions,
even the latest odds on the Quidditch Cup next month.
They mingled through the
crowd, or rather she mingled through the crowd and he followed behind her, the
stupefied look on his face growing more apparent. He caught his fathers eye and Byron motioned his son over. Lucius excused
himself from the company of his wife and visiting dignitaries from Avalon.
Lucius stood near his
father and looked out over the room of guests. His father waved to a veiled
woman across the room.
"Lucius," he
said aside to his son. "I know she's lovely, but do you think you could
stop looking like a little lost dog panting at her heels. You'll have her
mounted tonight and the novelty will wear off soon enough. Best not to make yourself look like a fool in front of so many influential
people."
His father nodded to a
tall greenish toned man wearing an elaborate blue feathered headdress.
"Yes, Father,"
said Lucius. "I shall try to remember my station."
"Please do," his
father replied. "It's embarrassing to watch you fumble behind her, for
God's sake, throw in a comment here and there. People will think you're
mute."
"Yes, Father,"
Lucius sounded a bit strained.
“Well? What are you
waiting for?” his father asked. “Go mingle with your bride.”
“As you wish, Father,”
Lucius said courteously through gritted teeth. He gave a short bow and excused
himself back to Narcissa side.
She easily mingled him in
the direction of a drawing room and they slipped inside.
“You looked like you
needed a break,” Narcissa said, sitting on a couch.
“I did,” said Lucius
surprised. “Thank you for your courtesy.”
She laughed musically. He
drew nearer to her and she looked a little fearful. He halted a little short.
She breathed easier. He decided quick movements would have to wait until later.
She was young and he didn’t want her terrified of him so quickly.
“I’m not going to injure
you,” he said, tilting his head at her.
She seemed to swallow
nervously. He sat behind her and took both his hands in hers.
“I know this might not
have been what you planned for your life,” he said nervously. “It wasn’t what I
had planned either, but our families decided otherwise.”
“I know all about you,”
Narcissa blurted out.
“Beg pardon?” he asked,
eyebrows raised.
“Lucius Malfoy, age 25”
she began looking down at her hands. “Talented in basic curses, although the
subtle touch of any earth based curse manages to elude you.”
He frowned slightly. How
much did this girl know? What had his father gotten him into?
“You enjoy Quidditch and
root for
“Now, how do you know
that?” Lucius exploded. The nerve of this girl. She
was intoxicating.
“Petrova
still hasn’t regained his arm from that last clash with the Wasps,” she stated.
“Did you see the last game? Pathetic. He was all over
the place.”
“In addition to him,” she
continued, “Svetkovas wife walked out on him, he’ll
be hitting the bottle again and worthless for the rest of the season. The
replacement seeker’s good, but nothing compared to
Narcissa looked at him
very patiently, as if she were speaking to a small child.
“When did Svetkova’s wife leave him?” Lucius asked, shocked.
“This morning, heard it
while I was getting ready,” she looked at him smugly.
“You were listening to the
Quidditch Hour the morning of your wedding?” he asked, dumbfounded.
“You weren’t?” she asked,
mild surprise showing on her face.
He couldn’t stand it
anymore. He took her face in his hands and kissed her. Long
and hard, but still chaste. He wanted to make her beg for it and he
wasn’t sure of her experience.
He moved back beside her.
She blushed again.
“I suppose I’m going to
have to get used to that,” Narcissa muttered.
“Was it unpleasing?”
Lucius asked her.
“I don’t think that’s the
word I’d use to describe it,” she said, avoiding his eyes.
He drew his fingers
lightly over her throat and over her collarbone. He saw goose bumps raise as he stroked. Her blue eyes raised
to meet his, nervously.
Narcissa was relieved to
see Lucius looking at her, one side of his mouth quirked in a crooked smile. He
seemed pleased with her. He brushed a tendril of hair away from her face and
drew a single finger along her jaw line. Narcissa closed her eyes and tilted
her head.
Lucius leaned in and began
kissing her jaw line, she gave a little start, but
moved closer to him, placing a hand on his leg. She squeezed.
It looked like she was
experienced after all. Well, no matter. It wouldn’t be traumatic and she seemed
to be enthusiastic. He cupped one of her breasts under her thick robes and
nipped at her jaw line. Her hand slipped up and squeezed the bulge, barely
noticeable under the layers of thick brocade. Very
enthusiastic.
He groaned in her ear. He
drew back and looked into her face. She flushed prettily and was trying to
catch her breath. She licked her lips at him. He plunged forward and crushed
his lips to hers. He opened his mouth and slid his tongue into her mouth. She
sucked on it.
The novelty
wear off? Of this? His father had gone
completely mad.
He leaned over and bit her
softly, but firmly on the neck. His fingers undid the complicated clasps of the
top half of her robes, giving him room to slip his hands inside. He cupped one
breast and felt it’s weight. He ran a thumb over her
nipple and whispered in her ear.
“So what else are you
willing to suck, my Little Princess?” he leered.
“Wouldn’t you like to
know?” she groaned back at him.
“LUCIUS!” his fathers
voice boomed through the study.
Lucius and Narcissa jumped
quickly apart, Narcissa quickly redoing the clasps at the front of her robe.
Byron Malfoy looked at
them, an eyebrow raised.
“It’s nice to see you
getting along,” he said. Narcissas father appeared
behind him. “But your guests are waiting.”
Narcissa’s father seemed amused.
“Starting the honeymoon
early, children?” he asked. Narcissa smiled sheepishly at her father. “Come
now, suppertime. You’ll need your strength. Oh, move it Byron, you’re blocking
the doorway.”
Lucius looked over at
Narcissa. She was doing up the last clasp. She shrugged at him.
“Another time, perhaps?”
she asked.
“You’re on,” he said with
a small smile.