|Envinyatar (envinyatar15) wrote in envinyatar_fics,|
@ 2008-03-22 02:43:00
|Entry tags:||gen:hp:bellatrix, pt:100quills:hp:death eaters, pt:challenge_the:hp:general|
[Fic] Red Sun Rising (Bellatrix, PG-13)
Title: Red Sun Rising
Author: Envinyatar (aka envinyatar15)
Highlight for Warnings: *madness, child abuse/death*
Canon-compliance: none specifically
Word Count: 1,077
Summary: The doll was extraordinary. It was soft and squishy and warm, and it reacted to everything Bella did.
Notes: Title is a line from Nightwish's "Higher Than Hope". Idea sparked by zebraspots05, though I doubt she'll thank me for mentioning this ;) Many thanks go to graylor for the beta!
For challenge_the: #080 crazy; 100quills: #19 red.
The Dark Lord gave Bella a doll. He knew how fond she was of her little playthings. Giving her something to add to her collection was his way of showing her his appreciation.
Indeed this appreciation must be high, for the doll was extraordinary. It was soft and squishy and warm, and it reacted to everything Bella did. She thought the puppetmaster who created it must have been very powerful, for the doll's eyes blinked and moved, and it cried and it peed and it shat. Well, that last function maybe needn't have been included, but if it meant the doll was as life-like as possible, Bella was willing to put up with a lot. It was just logical that when she fed the doll, what it ingested must come out somewhere.
Bella loved the doll. She cooed at it. She held it close to her body, feeling its steady heartbeat and the working of the lungs. It was beautiful work the puppetmaster had done. She dressed it up in small pink dresses and black robes over that. Sometimes she forgot the underwear, though, which meant that when the doll cried and Bella sat it down to feed it, a couple of hours later the pink dress would be soaked and dirtied. Mostly she just pursed her lips and changed the doll's clothing, but one time she slipped and shook the doll. "Can't you keep it in for just a little bit?" she shrieked at it, and the doll cried.
Bella laid her back in the baby buggy, but the doll kept on wailing. She made faces at it, played with it, fed it, but the doll shrank away from Bella, as if it was afraid. Its eyes were huge and glistened, its cheeks slippery from the tears. Bella grew increasingly angry, until at last she took the doll out of the buggy again and slapped it. "Stop," she said. To no avail. She slapped it again, harder. "Stop!" she demanded. To no avail. The limbs of the little doll fluttered around helplessly, its legs kicking with surprising strength. Bella shook it, but still it wouldn't quit its antics. In her fury that the doll wouldn't obey, Bella let it fall to the ground with a disgusted snarl. It gave a squawk, then it was still.
Satisfied, Bella picked it up and stuffed it back in the buggy.
Maybe after all, the doll was a little too life-like. It didn't seem to stop needing attention. Day and night, it was always the same. Bella didn't think she'd got a good night's sleep since the doll came in the house. Caring for it was more exhausting than a doll should be, but it was the price for how much fun the doll could be once settled. Still, maybe Bella could convince one of the other girls to check in on it when Bella had to sleep? Or maybe Rodolphus could do it. Yes, Rodolphus seemed like a good idea.
"Will you keep watch over it?" Bella asked her husband when he was sharing a meal with her and the still sleeping doll. It seemed a little worse for wear in the harsh light of the dining room, its cheek bone purple and its arm standing at an awkward angle. Bella ignored it: she would go out later to ask the Dark Lord whether he would tell her the name of the puppetmaster so she could go and let him fix the doll. First she'd have to carry out another task, though.
Rodolphus nodded slowly in reply to her earlier question. Bella happily smiled back at him. She left after kissing first the doll and then Rodolphus goodbye.
Bella came back ready to give the doll all its due attention. She loved it, after all. It might be a little daunting to care for it all day long, but now, at the end of a long day, Bella found she missed its thick, dark hair to snuggle into. She entered the dark nursery. All around the walls were shelves with her dolls, but in the middle of the room, distinguished from the others, was the buggy with her doll in it. On tiptoe, so as not to wake it, Bella crossed the distance and peered in the buggy.
It wasn't there.
Bella left the room in a hurry, proceeding to search for her husband. It would be with him. It had to be with him.
She found him reading the Daily Prophet in the living room. She rushed over to him, towering over him when she came to a stop in front of him. "Where is my doll?" Her voice was low and her hand shaking as she reached to push the newspaper out of the way.
Rodolphus looked her straight in the eye. "It isn't here."
"Then where is it?" she shrieked, outraged. How dared Rodolphus let it out of his sight?
"I'm sorry, love. I thought to surprise you and went to seek out the puppetmaster." He sounded remorseful, but Bella didn't have an ear for that right now. She sank to her knees.
"How did it go?" she asked, her voice faint. She already knew how it had gone. "How did he react?"
"He cursed us. He thought we didn't take care of the doll. He didn't want to hand it back. I'm sorry, love. He wanted to keep it."
Bella looked up at her husband with anguish written all over her features. Her doll! Her little doll! Back with the puppetmaster.
"Come now, love," Rodolphus hushed her, his hand caressing her cheek. "I'm sure our Dark Lord will get you a new doll. A better doll. He appreciates us, does He not?"
Bella's mood lifted instantly at the prospect, but disappointment lingered. She'd liked this particular doll. But what could she say if such a powerful puppetmaster wanted to keep his broken doll? It wasn't her place to deny him - especially if she thought to coax him into making her a new doll. She would show him she was a good doll parent.
There would be new dolls like this in the future. Maybe it hadn't been so extraordinary after all. She smiled at her husband, a plan already forming in her mind.
Bella never found the grave in the garden, an unmarked patch of dark earth among other unmarked patches.
The cemetary of dolls forgotten in the mist of time kept growing.