Title: Making Ends Meet
Author: softly_sweetly
Characters/Pairings: Lucius/Narcissa, Narcissa/Other
Rating: NC17
Kinks/Themes Chosen: Prostitution
Other Warnings: Infidelity
Word Count: ~1900
Summary/Description: The backbone of a home is a woman.
Author's Notes: Thank you E for the beta. Enjoy!




Clenching her hands on the table to stop them trembling, Narcissa looked at the blue veins that were visible under her skin. The intricate web spoke of life, reminded her that she was still breathing, no matter that she felt like her heart had been torn out of her chest. She'd never been one for floral rhetoric, but when Lucius was taken from her, she had truly feared her world would end. He should never have been at the Ministry, always wanting to be at the front of the action even when being behind the scenes made it easier to escape, easier to avoid being slung into Azkaban like a common thief. She'd collapsed into the chair when she'd heard, and Narcissa couldn't remember the last time she'd moved.

As the wards flared up around her, Narcissa inhaled deeply. Draco was home. A quick spell ensured she looked as presentable as ever, and Narcissa stood up slowly. She could not fall apart; regardless of the fact it would lose her face amongst the people whom would swoop the moment they sensed weakness, for her son she had to remain strong.

"Mother?"

"Draco, darling. How lovely to see you." Narcissa offered him her cheek, quietly amazed by how tall he was now. He was the image of his father, though his eyes were clouded with worry at the moment. She knew that he knew the importance of presenting a public face, but he was young, and she could forgive this indiscretion. She could allow him to express worry just this once, before they both had to continue on.

"Mother, he'll-"

"Everything will be fine. This will pass, and your father will be restored to us. Now, I imagine you have a lot of work to complete over the summer? Perhaps you should begin, and I'll task the House Elves to prepare dinner."


~~~


Lucius being gone was hard, but the scrutiny the Ministry had Narcissa and her son under was harder. Their accounts were frozen for any withdrawals over a mere pittance, and the few times she'd been outside Narcissa had experienced the unsettling feeling she was being followed. She was stuck between a rock and a hard place –unable to afford her way of life, but unable to downsize for risk of losing face. Those closest to her, not friends but people as deeply entwined with the Dark Lord as her, assisted, but it was not enough. And though Narcissa had been asked to help friends years ago, when the Ministry was watching those who swore allegiance to a different Master the first time around, she was unable to ask for that help herself. The Malfoys did not need help, did not need other people, and she could not lose that status. If she showed weakness now it would hurt Lucius when he was released, and she was not prepared to jeopardise his position so close to their Lord taking control.

So when one of Lucius' business partners visited her late on Sunday evening, Narcissa would not have needed her considerable intellect to notice the subtle hints being dropped. No one would use the word, no one would name the act, but everyone knew the truth. But she had no choice, and Narcissa accepted the heavy bag of coins with a demure smile. "Perhaps I can interest you in a nightcap?"

The offer was taken up, of course, and she led the way to one of the guest bedrooms. Narcissa knew she was far better than anyone this man had ever touched, and knew that the strict etiquette of the circles they both moved in would ensure his silence. She was not foolish enough to think that Lucius hadn't received similar payment when he had helped out the wives of friends imprisoned or murdered. Pulling her long hair over her shoulder, Narcissa glanced behind her, projecting just the right mixture of restraint and coquettishness, inviting him to undo her robes with a single look.

Lying on her back, Narcissa made all of the correct noises, arched her back and moved her hands in the accepted ways. He did not try to kiss her, for which she was grateful; her lips belonged to Lucius. He showed no grace or finesse, but ensured that she enjoyed it too, as much as she was able to. With her fingers clenched in the sheets, Narcissa moved her body to meet each thrust, eyes closed as she thought of nothing. Not picturing her husband, not imagining she were elsewhere, just a perfectly blank mind. Denial was often the easiest way to get through these times, and she thought of nothing as he finished with a grunt. He didn't ask to stay, and she didn't invite him to. This was not an affair, this was not emotion. It was necessity, and did not require sweet-nothings.

Most times she could repeat that position, lie on her back and move into the thrusts. She preferred that, it was easier to hide than when she was on top, rocking against a body with eyes fixed greedily on her bare skin. It felt more real when she was straddling a body, forced to look down at the man and accept what she was doing. But it helped, it secured her, and Narcissa was talented. She could pretend even while her mind was somewhere else, could enjoy the physical and compartmentalise it well enough that she felt no shame when the man left, a coin bag sat on the dresser in his wake.

She only had to refuse one man, who she knew could not be trusted. He had a large mouth, big enough to make up for his lack of manhood, and when he offered her money with an unsubtle gleam in his eye, she firmly refused. But her circle of five men kept her secure while she awaited Lucius' return, and kept their secrecy; not once was she unable to meet the eyes of her female acquaintances when they took tea. Narcissa maintained all appearances, and waited for the time to pass.


~~~


Of course she'd been reserved, smiled demurely and offered her cheek, accepted congratulations from acquaintances with a muted nod. She'd stepped back and allowed Draco time with his father, made herself busy with some meaningless task while Lucius held whispered conversations with those in the inner circle with him. But as the bedroom door closed behind her, Narcissa could let loose. Of course, her loose was most people's restrained, but now she was ensconced in her bedroom with her husband, Narcissa didn't have to pretend anymore. Wrapping her arms around Lucius' shoulders, Narcissa rested her forehead against his neck and inhaled deeply. He was thinner, sharper, but he was still her husband, and as he held her tight against him Narcissa forgot all about the past months, all about everything but having him back home with her.

His hands wandered up and down her back, the touch soothing and intimate. Narcissa reciprocated in kind, stroking him and pretending she couldn't feel the knots of his spine through his robes. Running her hands up his back, she found the end of ribbon and tugged gently, letting the material fall to the floor and leaning back in his embrace to study the way his hair framed his face. Though the angles of his face were sharper than they had been, his eyes hadn't changed at all. She still had to stand on her tiptoes to reach his lips, and she did, raising herself up gracefully and pressing her mouth against his. He kissed back desperately, and Narcissa felt a flush of arousal. He'd missed her just as much as she'd missed him, she could feel it. Everything ached, and Narcissa let herself be uncharacteristically forceful, stepping forwards and forcing Lucius to step back. He caught her gist, turning them around without breaking the kiss and moving them towards the bed. Narcissa's hands shook as she fumbled at Lucius' robes, managing to get them open with minimal mess. He'd undone the back of her robes effortlessly – he'd always been good at that – and Narcissa pushed the material off her shoulders, letting it pool to the floor and stepping gracefully out of it.

She almost flinched at Lucius' bare chest, at the way his ribs jutted out from under his pale chest, but that could soon be cured. And it could wait; she needed him. Letting him lie down on the bed, Narcissa didn't lie next to him, but climbed on top of him, letting her hair fall around her face in the wild way she knew he liked as she reached out for his shaft. Positioning him, she slipped easily onto him, whimpering softly as she came to rest against him. She could have been celibate since he'd been incarcerated, it would have felt this good, would have felt like she was home again. Reaching out for his hands she interlocked their fingers, using him as leverage as she began rocking slowly, finding her rhythm before she began lifting up and down, doing all the work as she watched him lying there staring at her. His eyes flicked down to her body, but stayed mainly on her eyes, conveying all the words with looks that his lips would never say.

For a fleeting, selfish minute, Narcissa wanted time to stop, wanted everything else to cease to exist now that she had her son safely asleep in his room and her husband back in her bed. Her family was paramount, and now she had it safe and secure, Narcissa wanted the rest of the world to carry out its business without infringing on them.

"Cissa..." Lucius groaned, breaking her selfish thoughts as his body tensed up under her. Narcissa watched the pleasure play out across his face, memorised every twitch and mumble, kept him in her gaze as he rode out the sensations and relaxed back against the mattress. He softened, slid out of her, and Narcissa lowered herself down to lie next to him. His arms moved around her automatically, and Narcissa let herself relax, ready for the first good night's sleep she'd had in forever.

"You managed? Without me?"

Narcissa opened her eyes again and looked up at Lucius. "I missed you."

It was an answer, though not to the question he'd asked. They both knew, had seen it happen to other people and imagined it would never happen to them. There was no judgement in his eyes, and Narcissa knew he didn't want details. She never wanted details, had never asked what return he got on assisting those who were in need. Cupping his cheek in her hand, Narcissa shrugged softly, an uncouth movement she'd chastise Draco for, but propriety had no place in the marital bed. "I made ends meet. But you're home now; that's all that matters."

Lucius nodded, closing his eyes and settling down to sleep. And though she could have slept, Narcissa stayed awake, watching his face for any sign of nightmares, for any tendrils of Azkaban trying to come and terrorize him in his home. Lucius slept peacefully, and Narcissa drew her wand, setting fire to the collection of empty money bags in her dresser drawer.