InsaneJournal

RP: Coming Home
Characters: Rabastan Lestrange & Jarek Doubek (NPC)
Time/Date: 20 October 2023, evening
Location: Prague, Czechoslovakia
Warnings/Rating: PG
Summary: Rabastan plans a trip home to join in the festivities.
Status: Complete


Rabastan threw open the front door of the town house he was currently living in and stormed inside, pausing only long enough to pull off his cloak and toss it at the house elf that had appeared.

“Food and wine in my rooms,” he snapped then he added sharply. “And if the bath isn’t filled and ready by the time I get there, I expect you to be ironing your hands.”

He heard a panicked and slightly muffled squeak from the house elf as he headed for the stairs and malicious smirk briefly crossed his face before it disappeared and a scowl replaced it. Merlin, it didn’t matter how long he lived here, he still hated Europe. Full of arrogant, conceited people who had no idea of the proper order of things. And you’d think that they’d never heard of bathing either. Spending time in a closed room with a crowd of them was enough to try the patience of a saint… and considering he was as far from being that as one could get, it was a wonder he hadn’t given them a sharp lesson in the effects of the Cruciatus.

He strode up the stairs and into his suite of rooms, smirking again when he saw the tray holding some of his favourite finger foods and a carafe of red wine, along with one filled glass, standing on a small table next to a steaming bath. If this wasn’t proof that house elves responded better to forcefulness than molly-coddling then he didn’t know what was.

He stripped off his robes and settled into the hot water with a sigh of relief. He ducked under the water for a moment then shifted around until he could lounge comfortably. He then reached out and picked up glass of wine. He sipped at the wine and hummed his approval before putting the glass down and plucking a small cube of cheese from the tray. He chewed on it slowly as the tension within him slowly began to ease.

“What on earth did you do to the house elf?”

Rabastan swallowed his current mouthful and looked over towards the door. The man standing there looking coolly amused could have been anywhere from twenty to fifty and so androgynous that only the pencil line thin moustache and goatee he sported identified him as male.

“Gave it appropriate motivation,” Rabastan said with a smirk.

“It seems to have worked,” the man replied as he almost glided into the room and took a seat on the edge of the bath. “It is good to see you home, my lord.”

Rabastan looked amused. “Why do you persist on calling me that, Jarek. As much as it pains me to admit it, I am no lord.”

“You have the breeding and the bearing of one,” Jarek replied with equal amusement. “And it pleases me to do so.”

Rabastan snorted. “Well then, far be it for me to tell you to stop. So? You’ve got something up your sleeve. I can tell.”

Jarek shifted slightly where he was sitting and nodded towards the wine and food. Rabastan smirked but obediently applied himself to both while Jarek spoke.

“There has been some interesting tales coming out of England over the last few months while you have been… busy. At first I dismissed them as wild rumours made up by hysterical people but subsequent enquiries have proven that they are indeed true.” He paused and arched an eyebrow. “The dead have been returning. No one knows why or how but it is unmistakably true. Your sister-in-law numbers among them as does Albus Dumbledore and Severus Snape.”

Rabastan snarled at those last two names. The great old fool and the traitor! But the first name brought a curl of amusement to his lips. “Dear Bella is back. How my brother must be pleased.” There was little indication as to whether he was serious or sarcastic with that statement. “Well, well, that is interesting news. Very interesting news. Anything else?”

Jarek nodded and this time his gaze slipped down to brush over the half-hidden form of his employer’s body under the bath water. “There are rumours that Fenrir Greyback has returned as well. Recent full moon depredations do provide some support for that.”

Rabastan had noted his assistant’s interest but he did nothing for the moment. Instead he looked almost gleeful and rubbed his hands together. “How delightful. It seems all the fun is occurring over there and I am here.” He pouted, inwardly amused at the way Jarek’s eyes fixed on his lips. He was well aware of his assistant’s fascination with him and he found it amusing to bed the man on occasion. It kept him almost insanely loyal. That was always valuable.

He abruptly clapped his hands together. “Find us a house there, Jarek. Something similar to this. I do enjoy my luxuries after all. I think it is appalling that we are not there to join in the festivities. That must be corrected.”

Jarek gave a small, almost secretive smile. “Of course, my lord, consider it done.” He raised one finger. “There is one last point of interest. I have not been able to confirm this so it is mere rumour but there is word that Tom Riddle has returned.”

Rabastan’s eyes narrowed. Now there was a man he wasn’t sure what to make of anymore. Then he picked up on the name. “Tom Riddle, eh?”

Jarek nodded. “There seems to be some consternation about him but that is definitely the name being used. Tom Riddle. Not Lord Voldemort.”

“Huh,” Rabastan said thoughtfully then he put it aside. He could worry about it later. Now he felt it was time to reward the loyal to ensure further loyalty and good service. Besides, he hadn’t had sex in almost two months with men or women. That was positively criminal.

He looked up at Jarek and let his gaze turn decidedly heated as his lips curled into a tiny, lascivious smirk. “I need someone to scrub my back… and other parts.”

Jarek’s eyes lit up with an almost unholy delight. The androgynous man stood and quickly shed his robes revealing a slim, pale, unblemished and completely masculine body. “It would be my pleasure to serve you, my lord, in any way you require.”

The slender man stepped into the bathtub delicately and Rabastan smirked and surrendered himself to an evening of what he considered to be well-deserved pleasure.