Ice

Chapter 19: "Of my free will I followed him down, to his dark place beneath the hills, to his dark palace below the ground."--Grace Griffith, Demeter's Daughter

"Oh, darling. You look absolutely beautiful."

Narcissa, dressed in her wedding robes, turned around slowly at the sound of her mother's voice. She had been staring in the mirror at her reflection, wondering at how all the heavy white silk and gold brocade trim of her gown did not overwhelm her as fair-skinned and blonde as she was. Rather than making her look washed-out as she had initially feared, she appeared to resemble some ethereal maiden waiting for her prince to capture her and slay the dragon on his way into the castle. My prince would be more likely to wait for his competition and feed them to the dragon, then sneak up the stairs to rescue me while the dragon slumbered on a full belly, Narcissa thought with a smile and turned to fully face her mother. "Thank you, Mother," she said, casting her eyes down demurely. She was certain she was the very image of innocence wrapped in white silk and shrouded in a gossamer-thin veil. There was some comfort in knowing it was the last time such a ruse of pure innocence would be required of her. Surely no one expected her to awaken in Malfoy's bed an innocent?

"Yes, Narcissa, you look absolutely smashing. Malfoy won't know what hit him."

Narcissa looked up as Bellatrix entered the room and was pleased there was no hard-edge mania to be heard in her sister's rich, deep voice. Bellatrix looked beautiful in her deep, wine-burgundy dress robes with her black hair artfully arranged atop her head. She had outlined her eyes in black and worn a simple gloss on her lips, and a few strands of her hair fell gently on her face. "You look lovely, Bella," Narcissa said truthfully, embracing her sister. Her sister had a spicy scent that perfectly complemented her exotic good looks.

"My girls," her mother said in a voice heavy with unshed tears. "I am truly blessed to have such two beautiful daughters." Clutching her hands to her chest, she smiled at them both. Tears glimmered in her eyes, and Narcissa knew if she did not do something soon her mother was going to start weeping. Bellatrix had come by her theatrical nature honestly.

"Mother, I believe Father will want to escort you to the Malfoy estate," Narcissa said gently, and her mother nodded.

"You're right, of course. Bellatrix, be a dear and help your sister. Remember, you must use the Portkey so you do not end up somewhere in the Manor where you might run into Mr. Malfoy!" Ariana took one more look at her daughter and smiled tearfully before closing the door behind her softly.

"Mother is going to ruin her eye makeup before you even walk down the aisle," Bella said, fussing with her hair in the mirror.

"Leave it be, dear," the mirror chided, and Bellatrix stuck her tongue out it.

"I imagine she will," Narcissa said, ignoring her sister's juvenile antics. "After all, she cried at your wedding, and Salazar knows she cried over Andromeda's." It was uncharacteristic of Narcissa to make such a statement, and she held her breath wondering what her volatile sister would do.

Bellatrix must have been more relaxed than usual as she merely laughed. "Indeed she did." Bellatrix met her eyes in the mirror, and the two sisters glanced at each other.

Without turning around, Bellatrix said softly, "I think it amusing how everyone is so wrong about you, Sister. I remember sitting on your bed and telling you to fool them all into thinking you weren't clever." Bella smiled at her from her reflection in the glass. "You have succeeded admirably."

Narcissa inclined her head. "I never forgot the advice, Bella," she said quietly.

"You never forget anything," her sister said shrewdly, then turned to grasp her hand lightly in her own. She smiled and closed her eyes briefly, and for a moment Narcissa saw her sister as she remembered her from their earlier childhood -- more innocent and free, before a dark destiny had grabbed hold of Bellatrix, never to let go. Narcissa felt a momentary pang of loss as she realized she should have Andromeda here with her as well. I shall never abandon my family, she thought fiercely. I shall embrace their trials and suffering as if they were my own, and I shall never take the easy way out as Andromeda did.

Bellatrix opened her eyes, and the darkness in their ebony depths erased the nostalgic thoughts of childhood effectively from Narcissa's mind. Nothing in her sister's gaze denoted innocence. "Are you ready, then? Off to start your life as Mrs. Malfoy?"

Narcissa smiled and her eyes sparkled as she grabbed her sister's hand tightly. "Ready as I'll ever be," she said. Bella smiled once more and dropped her hand to walk towards the door.

"Coming?"

Narcissa nodded but looked around her childhood room one last time. Her life as Narcissa Black was ending, and she was on her way to starting her life as Narcissa Malfoy. There should be some sense of nostalgia, but she felt none. She had lived her nineteen years underappreciated by everyone in this house, and she was going to join her life with the one man capable of appreciating her. She smiled and turned her back on her childhood as the future that awaited her was infinitely more exciting.

The wedding was being held in a heated tent on the grounds of Malfoy Manor with a warming spell ensuring the comfort of the guests. The ceremony itself would be brief; the spell used to unite them was simple enough and required little in the way of active participation. Many Wizarding couples were electing to use a less ritualistic ceremony and preferred instead to use a more modern format that avoided the old magic entirely. Legally you were married by signing a magically binding contract, which she and Lucius had done the night prior, so in Narcissa's mind the ceremony was useless without the spell to bind them together.

It is yet another example of the degradation of our society as we adopt more of the Muggle customs, Narcissa thought with a sneer. They want their vows to be easily broken since loyalty means nothing to them. She was not alone in this opinion--the one and only thing Lucius had insisted upon for the ceremony was that the blood binding ritual be performed, a spell falling out of favor with the witches and wizards of their generation, pureblood or no--and she was pleased that he agreed with her in this matter.

Narcissa glanced at her sister as they stepped up to the Portkey. Bellatrix might be on the wrong side of sane, but one could not argue that she was disloyal. Narcissa shook her head slightly and reached out to place her hand on the Portkey.

The Portkey brought them to the gardens, but in a small outbuilding that had been appointed for the bride's use and her attendants. Never having been one for casual friendships, Narcissa had only Bellatrix as a bridal attendant. Her mother had fussed over that, but it had been the one thing Narcissa had insisted on. Her mother could have her fantasy wedding with Narcissa in the starring role as the dutiful daughter, but she refused to share the day with meaningless strangers for the sake of convention. Lucius had asked Rodolphus to stand in as his best man, but Narcissa wondered if he did that only because Bellatrix was her sister. It did make things easier, and Malfoy was fond of expediency.

Her mother corralled Bellatrix and started speaking to her in low, hushed voices, and Narcissa found herself in a rare moment of quiet. She stared out of the windows of the small outbuilding -- some type of greenhouse long fallen out of use -- at the tent that had been set up for the ceremony. There were people seated in the chairs, many of whom she did not know. She had left the guest list up to her parents and Aurelius Malfoy. That was the only input Malfoy Sr. had in the entire proceedings other than offering the grounds for the ceremony. Narcissa had been wary of the idea, but he had said gruffly that his wife would have enjoyed it, and she felt sufficiently moved enough to acquiesce.

Her mother had truly outdone herself and decorated entirely in white and varying shades of blue. Narcissa held a bouquet of blue and purple freesias and hellebores in a shade of blue that her mother called "Shades of Night." Narcissa hid a smile as she remembered her sister's bouquet -- full of orchids and flowers that were so lush they were almost obscene. Typical Bellatrix. How different they were.

I wonder what kind of flowers Andromeda carried on her wedding day?

The thought surprised her; Narcissa almost dropped her bouquet. She looked almost guiltily towards her sister and her mother and noticed her sister's expression looked sly and amused, but her mother looked completely overset. She's probably telling her to behave, Narcissa thought. If Bellatrix hexed anyone at her wedding, Narcissa would hurt her.

Her mother came and kissed her cheek. "I'm going to go and be seated now, dear. Bella and you will have a chance for a little talk, and then it shall be time for the ceremony." Her mother put her hands on her shoulders and looked into her eyes. "You have always been such a good daughter, Narcissa. Beautiful and humble. Your father and I are so proud of you."

It should have made Narcissa proud, but she had to fight the urge to scream. Is that all I had to do to make you proud? Be lovely and never argue with you? I am capable of so much more. Why did you never see? Instead, she smoothed her features into a smile and cast her eyes downward, afraid her mother might see the hate in the depths of her midnight eyes.

Her mother left, and Bellatrix started to laugh. "Mother wants me to discuss 'what will happen on your wedding night' with you," she said. Her sister was grinning. "You know what's funny? She didn't give me that talk," Bellatrix said. Narcissa could not help but smile.

"She assumed, no doubt correctly, that you and Rodolphus had already, ah, consummated your relationship," Narcissa said dryly.

"She assumed I'd been with my share of men before I'd even met Rodolphus," Bellatrix drawled. "She was wrong, though. He was my first," she said, and smiled deviously at Narcissa's arched brow. "He'll be my last, too."

She moved around her sister to peer out the window at the guests. "There were just others in between."

Narcissa was silent at her sister's words as she was well-aware as to what she was referring to. "It is almost time, I see," she said. "Is there anything you want to tell me about my wedding night, Bellatrix?"

Her sister turned slowly away from the window and caught her bottom lip in her teeth as she stared at her thoughtfully. "I could tell you many stories, Sister, but I daresay you're quite familiar with what it is you like." She smirked. "However, if Malfoy needs improvement, suggest he talk to Rodolphus."

Narcissa tried to stop herself from hexing Bellatrix or hugging her, but her sister grabbed her arm suddenly. "Come on," she said, pulling her to the door, "time to go get married, Narci. Are you absolutely sure you want to do this? Because I could whisk us away if you don't." Her sister's face was absolutely serious, all teasing aside. "If you marry Lucius, he becomes my family, too."

Narcissa knew there was no greater compliment Bellatrix could give other than claim someone as her family. It was why Andromeda's betrayal had hurt her so deeply -- Bellatrix was loyal to a fault. "I'm sure, Sister." She met Bella's dark eyes unwaveringly, and there was a moment of silence between them.

"I know. Love is a difficult thing to hide." She laughed. "Yes, I recognize it, Narcissa. I have never lied. I do love Rodolphus, very much. Why, you could lock me away with him forever, and I'd be a happy girl. Come now," she said. Narcissa felt a brief, cold shiver of foreboding but attributed it to nerves and followed Bellatrix to the edge of the garden.

Narcissa would remember the smell of flowers, sweet and pungent, and the low rumbling of thunder outside that marked her wedding day. The clouds broke finally, pouring rain down the enchanted tent as Narcissa walked slowly up the aisle, her eyes on her future husband. Lucius stood straight, his face impassive, as she moved up to him, and she remembered thinking the rain and the clouds went well with his storm-gray eyes. He did not smile at her, but his eyes warmed and seemed to glow a soft mercury rather than hard slate. She stepped up and gave him her hand, and he squeezed it lightly before they turned to the face the wizard with the solemn face who was officiating their wedding.

The ceremony itself passed in a blur. Narcissa remembered the resonance of the wizard's tone -- but the words themselves she did not remember. She and Lucius spoke the sacred words that bound them together, and then he took her hand and slipped a perfect circle of platinum and diamonds onto her finger. Murmuring the words and feeling the texture and the meaning without remembering what exactly it was she said, she returned the favor with his simple platinum band.

The final step was the oldest and most binding moment of all -- and she heard a murmur run through the crowd when the wizard reached under the small altar and brought out a sheathed silver dagger. Blood magic was old magic -- and one of the customs rapidly falling out of favor with the younger generations of witches and wizards.

The dagger was unadorned save the intricate knotwork pattern engraved on the blade. The wizard held it, hilt first, and handed it to Narcissa. Her hands had been shaking with nerves for the entire ceremony, but for this she remained steady and sure. Lucius moved the sleeve of his robe out of the way and turned his arm over to offer up the smooth fair skin for her to cut. She ran the tip of the dagger down his skin and watched, almost fascinated, as a thin red line of blood appeared on his arm. He hissed softly, and her eyes flew to his. She forced herself not to gasp -- the look in his eyes she recognized from their more intimate moments together.

She murmured the ancient words and handed the dagger hilt forward to him. She pulled up her sleeve, turned her arm over and extended it to him. He followed suit and drew the blade slowly down her arm, and she gasped lightly although not entirely from pain. Their eyes met and held, and the moment was so erotically charged Narcissa felt faint for the first time that day. Together they murmured the closing words of the spell -- vous et pas d'autre -- and handed the dagger back to the wizard.

When the wizard smiled at them and pronounced them wed, Lucius caught her up in his arms and kissed her. Everyone clapped, and Narcissa became aware of their audience for the first time in the ceremony. Bellatrix was giving Rodolphus a sly smile -- they too had performed the ancient blood-binding spell -- and before Narcissa could pull away, Lucius nipped her bottom lip playfully. She heard him laugh as she caught her breath, and then he leaned down to whisper in her ear, "Well done, Mrs. Malfoy." He applied a slight amount of pressure to her arm, where her arm was slightly sore from the cut, and she closed her eyes.

"And you, Mr. Malfoy," she said lightly and ran her nail lightly over the slight raised scar on his forearm. He pulled her closer to him, and they exchanged a look for a moment before turning back to their guests.

In later years, friends of the Malfoy's would always wonder why, in the portrait they had of their wedding day hanging in the study, they appeared to be in a subtle conflict with each other, staring into each other's eyes almost threateningly without a smile to be seen. They would each shrug it off when asked, and yet, if they were in the same room, their eyes would touch -- and they would share a moment of perfect understanding, just as they had on their wedding day.

Vous et pas d'autre.

You and no other.

**********************

The moonlight cutting through the windows woke her, and Narcissa blinked slowly as she came awake. It was late -- still well before dawn -- and she had a brief moment of disorientation as she found herself in a strange bed with a warm body next to her. Eventually awareness returned. She was in her new home, sleeping with her new husband. She was Mrs. Malfoy.

Her eyes traveled over Lucius' sleeping form. He was sprawled on his back, one arm flung out to the side, his left arm up over his head. His white-blonde hair spilled over his face and the pillow and looked almost silver in the moonlight. She smiled when she saw the scratches on his arm and on his chest, marks from their earlier passion. Narcissa raised one hand up, pushing his hair off his face and noting in sleep how his face relaxed, how white-blonde eyelashes gently lay against his high cheekbones. She moved to lie next to him and return to sleep, but as she moved the angle of the moonlight changed and brought something stark into relief on the his left forearm, lying above his head.

It was the Dark Mark, the same sign she'd seen on the front pages of the Prophet. The image of a black skull with a snake sliding from its mouth was burned in black on his arm. Her husband was a Death Eater, one of Voldemort's followers. She stared at the mark, letting this new information sink in, and realized she had most likely known all along. Bellatrix's words came back to her, "You're not just marrying Malfoy, you know."

My sister has this mark, as does her husband. She had never seen it on either of their arms, but she somehow she knew it was there regardless.

Narcissa's eyes traveled from the sinister black brand to her husband's face, and she gasped in surprise as she saw his eyes were open and watching her, glittering like diamonds in the cold moonlight. His face was utterly expressionless, just as he was when she saw him kill. She met his eyes without comment and reached her hand out to trace the pattern of the skull and the snake on his arm lightly. He was still beneath her, so still -- he was capable of descending into some deep, dark place in his mind, and it was both fascinating and fearful. There was nothing on his face in that moment.

She was trembling from some nameless emotion as she stared at him, her hand resting lightly on his arm. Her hair was lose and tousled around her shoulders, bare in the moonlight. She had barely had time to come to grasps with the fact she was a wife, and now she was confronted with the evidence that she was the wife of a dark wizard.

"You don't seem terribly surprised." His words in the darkness were as cold as his eyes.

"I suppose I'm not," she said quietly, surprised that her voice managed to sound so strong. "Why did you never tell me?"

"It is not your affair. I should not have fallen asleep without the concealment charm. I shall not do so again." The words were final; his tone brooked no argument. She nodded as if in assent, but she was not agreeing with his words.

Her fingers continued to lightly move over the Mark. She was gratified to hear him suck in a breath as her touch skimmed the sensitive skin of his arm. "This must have hurt," she said simply.

"It did." There was no remorse or emotion in his matter-of-fact voice. "You should have known, Narcissa. I told you there was little I would not do for the causes I believed in. I have killed for you, Narcissa. Do you not think me capable of it for other causes to which I've pledged my loyalty?"

"There is little I think do not think you capable of, Lucius" she answered quietly.

He laughed, and the sound caused the hairs on the back of her neck to rise. He made no effort to shake her hand off of his forearm. "That should frighten you, my pretty little wife," he purred. "You who've just discovered her husband's evil on their wedding night. It is like a bad gothic novel, I daresay." The way he hissed the word evil sounded more like a sinister promise than a threat.

Narcissa moved sinuously over him, sliding like the snake that poured from the mouth of the skull branded into his arm. She draped her body around him and felt him stir beneath her, smiling as she stared into his dead grey eyes. "Who said I did not know before now? I am a clever girl, remember?"

He grabbed her hips and shoved himself into her, the gesture ruthless and harsh. He made no move to kiss her or caress her in any fashion -- rough or otherwise. She arched her back, braced one hand on his chest and dug her nails into his skin. The other hand curled around his forearm as if she were embracing the Mark, leaving red marks.

The moved together in the dark, their breathing the only sound in the quiet of the room. Narcissa no longer attempted to rationalize what she was doing -- how she could take him into her body with him so cold and harsh, so utterly remorseless over his crimes...so completely evil that she should run far away and never look back.

Instead, she moved forward and kissed the brutal Mark on his forearm and traced the snake with her tongue. The gesture caused his hips to buck off the bed and he bit her, hard, as they both climaxed. Panting, she collapsed on top of him. His hands still gripped her hips although his hold had lessened slightly. Narcissa tilted her head to look up at him. He reached up and pushed her hair, which lay damp and plastered to her brow, back. The moonlight illuminated the flush high on his pale face, the silver strands of hair covering one side of his face. They stared at each other; she knew he was waiting for her to explain.

"I love you," she said simply, staring into his cold eyes. There was no change in expression; he merely inclined his head slightly.

Lucius smiled chillingly. In a voice as dead as his eyes, he said "I love you, too. Now, go to sleep." He rolled her over and wrapped an arm around her - his left. She found herself staring at the Dark Mark once more. She smiled in the darkness.

"Lucius?" she whispered quietly, and heard him answer with a lazy, "Hmm?"

She paused briefly before answering. "I do not wish for you to use a concealment charm. I wish to see the Mark -- always."

He tensed slightly behind her, but said only, "As you wish."

Narcissa Malfoy smiled, closed her eyes and slept without dreams.