Dark Heiress

Chapter 2- Consequences...

"I thought I was supposed to be showing you the grounds? If you'll kindly follow me, perhaps we could visit the stables. They're just over there--"

She made to continue their walk, but was abruptly prevented by an insistent arm that had somehow managed to snake its way around her waist. They had just walked beneath a large, old oak tree, when in one swift move he had managed to maneuver her between the vast girth of the tree's trunk and himself, effectively pinning her.

"Hmm, you don't waste time, do you? Well I'm always up for a romp in the hay," he purred seductively, his face barely an inch from hers.

"What? I-uh, NO! No that's not what I meant. I didn't mean- what are you implying?" she stuttered, realising the innuendo in his words. She looked somewhere between mortified and flustered while managing to flush a remarkable shade of scarlet.

He chuckled at her apparent unease, relishing the way she squirmed beneath his gaze.

"You're quite lovely when you blush. I imagine it extends well past the modest bit of skin you've exposed." He was looking pointedly at her reddened neckline, his gaze slowly raking over her body. With two fingers, he lazily tugged at her sleeve, slowly exposing her shoulder further.

"You really do paint quite a provocative image."

"Lucius, I-I think you're a bit too close." She could smell chamomile lingering on his breath and his shoulder-length hair tickled her cheek every time there was a breeze. Beams of sunlight that were streaming through the overhead leaves glistened in flecks on his silvery-blond hair.

"What, do you mean like this?" He was now impossibly close; he had one arm above her head while his other hand was caressing the back of her neck. His chest was pressed hard against hers and she could feel the rapid beat of his heart, or perhaps it was her own? His thigh was wedged between hers and she could feel his hardness pressing against her leg.

He had begun to nuzzle her neck and her eyes closed seemingly of their own accord. Okay, that felt rather nice, those lips were amazing; no, no, no, this was wrong, so wrong! She knew the kind of person that he was, the things he had probably done. She did not want this, not with him; now if only she could relay that message to the rest of her traitorous body.

Cease and desist! Cease and desist! Her body, however, was vehemently protesting and decided at that moment to show how intent it was on proving that it had a mind of its own.

Lucius had now moved to her jaw line, and he was growing more insistent. A second later, he had crushed his mouth onto hers; he forced her mouth open and deftly worked his tongue into her mouth. She seemed to have lost all use of her limbs, or rather forgotten that they were there.

Lucius quickly grew restless and began further exploring her body. He began to grope at her chest and Melantha was quickly jolted into realisation of where this was headed; she felt his other hand glide beneath the hem of her dress and up her leg, only to feel an insistent pull at her knickers.

She jerked her head to the side, before shoving his hands away. "No, Malfoy! Not with you, and not like this."

"Really, Melantha, I believe we have progressed beyond formalities. Personally, I thought we were getting acquainted on a more pleasurable, intimate level."

"No, Malfoy. You're sorely mistaken if you'd think I'd want to know you any better. Now, I'd really appreciate it if you'd remove your filthy hands."

"Now, now, why the sudden hostility? I could swear you were enjoying yourself a moment ago; there's no need to deny yourself the pleasure. You know you want me to continue." Dropping his voice to a whisper, he said, "I could make you writhe in all manner of ways. Pleasure. Pain. Ecstasy. The way you'd scream, it would be bliss; every kind of beautiful."

If she was unsure before, the look in his eyes as he spoke told her all she needed to know. There's no way in hell. Sadistic bastard! No way.

Lucius made to kiss her once more but this time she was not to be swayed. He stopped suddenly when he felt wood on wood; he looked down to see Melantha holding her wand to his manhood.

"Off, Malfoy. Now. Unless you're considering becoming a eunuch, at which point I'd be only too willing to oblige." A slight prod was all the convincing he needed to hastily take a step back.

"There's no point in playing these infantile games. Sooner or later, I will have you, and I'm definitely counting on the former." Lucius had momentarily lost his look of pleasure, but not his conceit.

"Yes, Malfoy, you keep deluding yourself. Whatever helps you sleep at night," she swiftly replied.

"You've got the wrong end of the wand, sweet Melantha. You see, I rather plan on spending many sleepless nights, with you as my favourite bedmate," he haughtily countered, wiping the self-satisfied smirk off her face.

Melantha frowned in puzzlement. Okay, I thought I had the upper hand here, so why is that damned bastard smirking at me? And what the hell is he talking about?

Noting her ignorant look, Lucius quickly saw the opportunity to take hold of the situation. "Oh, but it seems that you don't know, do you? Why, it's the deal of a lifetime. Our fathers are discussing it as we speak."

"Deal? What does it have to do with me?" she ranted, but was flooded with horror as she suddenly realised the answer.

Smugly, he replied, "Why, you of course; or rather, us. Surely you're not so naïve as to believe we were here for the tea? Or perhaps you thought it was for the charming presence of your lovely mother?" he sneered.

Melantha gazed back in disbelief: this could not be happening. Not Malfoy. She could not, would not end up his whore. She began taking a step backwards in the direction of the house.

"Ah, I see you finally get it; Melantha Malfoy, has a nice ring to it, doesn't it?" he laughed sardonically.

She broke into a run and quickly reached the house, leaving Lucius to watch on in amusement.

"My darling Melantha, feisty little flower, I'll have you yet, I swear it."

* * * * * * * * * *

Dropping all decorum, Melantha burst into the sitting room looking flustered and disheveled, halting all conversation. Ignoring the looks of outrage on her parents' faces, she angrily spat, "Marriage? To Malfoy?"

Her mother, with her usual façade, ignored her brusque manner and happily replied, "Yes, it's simply wonderful isn't it? I'm so pleased; you're so lucky. We must celebrate! And the planning, why, there's so much to do! Flora! Champagne, chilled." Hardly pausing to draw breath, she continued, "Oh, Lucius, there you are. Congratulations my dear boy, you really do make a fine match!"

Melantha turned to see Lucius standing behind her in the doorway. He had just caught up and was looking as composed and smug as ever, receiving a flute of champagne from the magnum her father had just uncorked.

"Why, thank you, Peony, or should I just call you Mother now?"

Oh Merlin. That's it. I'm going to be violently ill.

The conversation and champagne flowed freely around her; she could have been part of the paisley wallpaper behind her, for all the notice that was taken of her.

Right, enough, this is all a bloody laugh. There is no way I'm marrying Malfoy.

"No."

"What was that, Melantha darling, did you say something?" asked Lucius innocently.

Ugh.

"I said, no. No, I will not marry Lucius." Not as if the arrogant bastard had even bothered to actually ask me.

"Melantha! What are you saying? Really, you don't know what you're talking about," her mother chided, sending a nervous smile at Malfoy Senior and a scathing glance at her.

"Abraxas, Lucius, pay the girl no mind. It's all the excitement; I do believe it's overwhelmed her--"

"No, Mother," she interjected as her mother tried to placate the Malfoys. "I know exactly what I'm saying. There's no bloody way I'm marrying him." She nodded in Lucius' direction before she continued, "I'd rather be skinned alive and fed to a starving Hungarian Horntail!"

Her father, who had been quiet throughout her tirade, stood to face her with a look of utter outrage upon his face. He was livid, and there was going to be hell to pay.

"You'll soon find that can easily be arranged! How dare you take that tone, and in front of company no less! Hold your tongue! You have insulted our guests long enough, and I will not tolerate such insolence!" Seeing that there was no room left for argument, she stormed out and went up to her room.

Red-faced, her father turned to Malfoy Senior. "My deepest apologies, Abraxas, old friend. Her outburst deeply shames me. Rest assured, she will not go unpunished."

"Quite understandable; the best of families have their black sheep. Best to nip it in the bud, I say."

"She's no black sheep, Abraxas. She merely forgets her place on occasion, quite seldom actually," her mother quickly amended, trying to salvage the situation.

"Dear me, it's clear the poor girl is suffering from nerves; it really is to be expected of one so young. I do believe that, given time, she would be quite agreeable."

Peony felt utterly relieved at upon hearing Lucius' words. So the wretched girl hadn't bollixed it up completely after all.

She listened intently as Lucius continued, "Well, I do have an idea of sorts; what say we have dear Melantha spend the afternoon at Malfoy Manor? Perhaps give us a chance to bond in an environment that will soon be hers anyway. She may warm up to the idea of marriage easier, if she sees how well we can be together without the added pressure from her parents."

Peony's face lit up as though the proposal to wed such a fine-looking young man was being made for her. If only.

Well that damned girl better appreciate her luck; one would imagine that after all the trouble her father and I went through to pair her with such an exquisite young man, the insolent wench would at least show some modicum of gratitude.

Lucius smoothly added, "I mean no offence of course."

"Well, of course not! Lucius, my dear boy, you are a godsend! I think that is an absolutely splendid idea. You'll make a marvelous son!" gushed Peony.

Lucius' grey eyes glittered merrily. Ah yes, and quite possibly get to have my cake and eat it too.

* * * * * * * * * *

Melantha awoke to musty darkness, cold and stiff. She was, of course, in the cellar, having expected nothing less. With the previous day's debacle, there was no way she would be allowed to go unscathed; freedom of speech in such a household was not condoned or tolerated.

This was why a night in the cellar, along with a prelude of a dozen of her father's favourite curses to the back, was taken in resignation. It was not the first time she had been on the receiving end of her father's wand, and until she was free from their imprisonment, it would most likely not be the last. It was quite normal for her father to exact his punishment on her in such a manner every time she had been disobedient. It sickened her the way he actually seemed to relish each and every blow.

Her back was proof of his madness; she had procured a number of scars over the years at his hand, and last night had been no different. In fact, it was actually one of the worst. Her back was crusted with dried blood and her dress was effectively stuck to it. It would be torture trying to peel it away, but perhaps she'd just shower with it on, allowing the warm water to soften it before she attempted to remove it.

If her mother wasn't already slave-driving Flora, she could possibly get her to heal her back, as she had done in the past. While she knew the elf wouldn't really sympathize much with her (house-elves fervently believed in punishment), she would still do as she was told.

Melantha wearily began to make her way upstairs to her room when her mother accosted her. Damn. She was hoping to escape unnoticed to the relative sanctuary of her room.

"Hmph, I sincerely hope that you've learned your lesson. Your father and I have never been so mortified by your atrocious behaviour."

Oh, please let this end soon. I really can't deal with this now. I just need a hot bath and warm bed. Melantha was beginning to lean heavily on the banister for support.

She was brought back to the present as she heard her mother say, "Dear Lucius has been kind enough to overlook yesterday's little episode. You will be joining him for lunch at the Manor, and you will be on your best behaviour. Do I make myself clear?"

"What? No, I can't--"

"You will do as you are told!"

"But--"

"No 'buts'. This is not up for further discussion; now go get cleaned up. And stop slouching, it's quite unbecoming for a young lady."

Melantha was left gaping in horror. Circe, could this day possibly get any worse?

* * * * * * * * *

At twelve thirty, Melantha was promptly waiting in the lavish foyer of Malfoy Manor. All along the walls, portraits of the former Malfoy bloodline stared down their aristocratic noses at her. She couldn't help but notice way the male members were leering at her was in a way that was all too familiar.

"Ah, Melantha, you're right on time. I see you're looking lovely as always," Lucius said as he entered from one of the passages that likely led to the east wing. Though the comment was obviously sarcastic, he managed to keep his voice welcoming.

He was regarding her in amusement; after the previous day's antics, she had opted for a definitely modest look. Actually, she was bordering on nun-ish. In contrast to the previous day, her hair was pulled back into a stern bun at the base of her neck and she wore a black, floor-length dress, which hid her frame; it was buttoned up along the neck and at the wrists of her sleeves, while a heavy traveling-cloak completed her ensemble.

Lucius, however, was unperturbed by her new look. Leaning in, he made to kiss her but was met with her cheek as she quickly averted her face.

Chuckling lightly, he offered his arm, which she reluctantly took. "So, shall we make for the dining-hall then? I believe lunch will be served momentarily."

"Yes, I suppose," she replied in a monotone, hoping to indicate indifference.

"Well, I'm overwhelmed by your enthusiasm," he added with light sarcasm. "This way, if you please."

The smarmy git, he was enjoying himself.

He led her to a high-ceilinged room that was fit for royalty. Being Malfoy Manor, she had expected nothing less; this however, exceeded all expectations, and yet it failed to entice her. The room exuded a coldness that had nothing to do with a lack of heat; it rather seemed to echo the type of inhabitants held within those walls.

It disgusted her to think of how much had been wasted in creating a place of such grandeur. She knew that the Manor was only one of the many abodes owned by the Malfoys; they were known to have property all over Europe. Merlin forbid they were to stay in foreign accommodation while on holiday in the French Riviera.

The dining table was fit to host a banquet. It matched the floor below; it too was made of stark white marble with the exception of the silvery veins that streaked the floor.

Lucius pulled out a high-backed chair for her to the left of the head seat. Seated, she asked, "Will your father not be joining us?" She had noticed that only two places had been set.

The late Athena Malfoy had died during childbirth; with the Malfoy heir born, Malfoy Senior had never felt the need to remarry.

"No, Father unfortunately had more pressing business to attend to. Not to worry, I plan on being a most attentive host."

Melantha cringed inwardly. Sweet Merlin, that's what I'm afraid of!

As she was not prepared to encourage Malfoy in any way, the meal passed in near silence with conversation being reduced to monosyllabic replies on Melantha's part. She had the idea that Lucius was trying to loosen her up as he was constantly trying to ply her with wine while he had been sure in slowly taking measured sips. Not wishing to succumb to his advances under the influence, she had promptly switched to water after her first glass and half. There was no way she was going to lose her faculties around him.

Once the meal was through, Malfoy helped her out of her seat and quickly linked arms, much to her chagrin. Taking note of her slight disgruntled frown, he held her closer and more tightly.

"Well, that was not too bad. Since you seem to flourish so well outdoors," he said with a smirk, as he referred to the previous days little tête-à-tête by the oak, "I thought perhaps you might be amenable to a stroll by the lake?"

"I'm sure that would be lovely," she replied with bored sarcasm.

She hated every minute of his forced presence, and there was no way she'd let him think otherwise. This day couldn't end soon enough.

They made their way down to the lake where Lucius insisted they go for a boat ride. It was odd, besides having to avoid his lascivious gaze (which most assuredly was undressing her); she had yet to fend his hands off her.

A painfully slow hour later, and they were forced to head indoors as the darkened skies promised the onset of a magnificent storm.

"Seems as though we're quickly running out of things to do; perhaps a tour then? I'm obliged to entertain and I'm sure we could find something remotely interesting."

Circe, she couldn't handle much more of this! She had barely managed to refrain from impaling him with her fork during lunch and it would have been only too easy aboard the boat to feign an accidental drowning. Smiling, she let her thoughts drift to the scene.

Poor Lucius had slipped overboard and amid his panicked frenzy was sadly entangled in some weeds; she had tried so hard to help but it was to no avail. It had been heart wrenching watching him sink to the depths of the lake where ravenous creatures would feast on his corpse...Ah, wishful thinking, if only she were so lucky.

She was wrenched out of her delightful reverie when she felt herself being led away once again. What did he say? Something about a damn tour. She hastily said, "Of course, Lucius, why not?"

Another torturous hour and a half later, and her sore feet were being led to yet another room. She couldn't bear to listen to his inane ramblings concerning his great ancestors or the insipid history of Malfoy Manor.

Her head was spinning from all the rooms she had been shown, so it was no wonder that she had failed to notice that they had now entered a large, masculine-looking bedroom.

A large four-poster bed stood raised against the adjacent wall; its mahogany posts were intricately carved and forest green drapes hung from the ceiling to form a canopy over it. To the left were two other doors which probably led to an en-suite bathroom and a dressing room, while overhead a black brocade drapery with the Malfoy crest embroidered in silver was hung up high.

Melantha did not notice any of this, as her attention had been drawn to the large French doors across from her, which led to a large balcony overlooking the lake. Outside, rain was pelting heavily against the windows.

"Ah, and last but not least, are my humble chambers."

"Yes, very nice," she replied nonchalantly as she walked towards the view of the raging storm, failing to notice the odd gleam in his eyes.

Lucius walked to her where she stood, crossed-armed gazing out, while he admired the profile she cut before the windows.

"You're so beautiful, do you know that?" he said as he reached out to push a stray hair off her forehead. Ignoring her flinch, he laid his hands on her forearms and continued, "We could be very good together, quite the couple. Revered and respected by so many; with such power, we'd probably be the centre of envious minds."

Melantha had now turned to face him with a hard gaze, listening to his pompous little speech.

"You'd be hard-pressed to find a better suitor, especially one that would afford you the prestige that the Malfoy name carries. So, do we have an accord?" he finished smugly with that obnoxious smirk on his face.

With a smirk that rivaled his, Melantha jerked herself free from his clutches before taking a step back and countering, "I'm so very flattered that you would consider me a possible candidate to fulfill the role of your loving wife. But, you see I rather feel that your ego would have a trying time in dealing with the likes of me. So I'm sure you'll understand my need to humbly decline your offer. No need to be so concerned with my lacking a suitor. As you and my parents have so conveniently forgotten, I'm still sixteen, and I'm sure that by the time I do decide to marry, there will be a fair number of respectable suitors for me to choose from."

Lucius had lost his usual smirk and she could see the agitation growing beneath his normally placid demeanor, yet she continued unperturbed, "Besides, I think by now I've given you enough acknowledgment to show you that I am utterly repulsed by you. You are the most arrogant, pompous prick I have ever had the misfortune to come across. So please, if you will, do not insult me by insinuating that we could ever have anything in common, let alone share the same name. You do me a great disservice in assuming that I would stoop to binding myself to a shallow person such as yourself. Merlin! I would actually be expected to perform wifely duties! I could be sick merely toying with that idea."

Throwing a haughty look his way, she noticed that while his face was once again an impassive mask, there was no mistaking the look of cold fury in his stormy gray eyes, which only seemed to fuel her satisfaction at having gotten under his skin.

"I see. Well then, I take it that that is your final answer?" His voice was hard and cold.

"Excuse me, but have you been listening to a word I've just spoken? Really, Malfoy, I think I have overestimated your intelligence after all. My answer is no- I will not be your wife, paramour or anything which suggests having to spend an agonizing second longer in your presence!" she retorted and abruptly turned to make her exit.

"Well, I'm sorry you feel that way," Lucius replied in a low voice from behind her.

Melantha stopped and turned to tell him that she couldn't care less, only to see a momentary flash of red from the end of a wand, before darkness encompassed her.

* * * * * * * * * *

Melantha awoke feeling groggy and sore. Her skin was tingling oddly with a faint buzzing beneath her fingertips. There was a weight on top of her that had pinned her to what felt like a bed. The mass on top of her was moving and she could feel her bare skin being groped. The scent of expensive cologne filled her olfactory senses, and as her vision grew more focused, her eyes locked onto a head of white blond hair nuzzling her neck.

"What the--"

"Ah, I see you've finally decided to join me. It would have been so much more fun had you actually participated in our little tête-à-tête. Either way, I hope you've finally learned that a Malfoy always gets what he wants."

Her face began to contort in horror as she realised what had transpired. "Ah- why-you monster! You filthy beast! What have you done to me!" she choked out.

The cool façade that she had so easily managed earlier had swiftly crumbled. She desperately tried to escape from beneath him, vainly attempting to beat him off, but he quickly pinned her arms above her head. His strength and position ensured that she was effectively trapped.

Smirking, he replied, "Now, now, if you really want to know, I suppose I'm always up for a re-enactment. Dark flower; more like deflowered."

"Get away! You evil bastard! Get off me, you fucking son of a bitch!" she screamed, before promptly sinking her teeth into his arm.

Lucius let out a howl of pain and backhanded her in retaliation. "You little bitch! I could easily rearrange your pretty, little face for that. You had better hope I don't scar!"

"You'll regret this, Malfoy. I swear I'll make you regret this." Her voice shook and she glared at him with her tear-stained face.

"Somehow, I highly doubt that. And in case you've failed to notice, you're hardly in a position to dole out threats. Now, where were we?"

Melantha gasped in pain as felt herself being violated. It was useless trying to fend him off and her screams, which were being drowned out by the pouring rain, would have gone unnoticed anyway as the Imperturbable Charm had yet to wear off. Lucius was amused by her struggle and seemed encouraged to remind her who was in control.

A while later, Lucius had removed himself from her and had casually begun to dress. Melantha swiftly rolled off the bed only to violently retch at its side.

With his back to her, Lucius carelessly responded, "Really, must you do that? I do have to sleep in here."

Melantha glared at his back in hatred. She saw her clothes lying in a heap at the foot of the bed and quickly reached for them; she spied her once irremovable necklace beneath her bundle of clothes and for a moment she was tempted to just leave it, but grabbed it as an afterthought.

Not wasting time in trying to fit the dress with all those buttons, she hastily pulled her robe over her bare body and ran out the room with the rest of her garments held in a bundle to her stomach. All she cared about now was getting as far away as possible from that poor excuse of a human. She could hear his laughter mocking her as it echoed through the hallway.

It seemed as though she had run a marathon by the time she had reached the Apparition point at the end of the gravel path. With a fleetingly glance at the place where she had been robbed of her virtue, she Apparated home, leaving a smirking Lucius Malfoy gazing out of one of the top windows.

* * * * * * * * * *