Narcissa Isobel Malfoy (filledenarcisse) wrote in find_horcruxes, @ 2010-04-18 23:11:00 |
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Entry tags: | celeste lestrange, narcissa malfoy |
Who: Narcissa and Celeste
What: Two best buds have a chat about the shitstorm that is Celeste's life at the moment.
When: Mid-morning, Sunday April 18
Where: Malfoy Manor
Rating: PG13? Pretty tame, I guess.
Status: Finished.
The past week had been hellish, and the ravages of sleeplessness and the emotional toll her father's death and Regulus' rejection had taken on her were beginning to show on her face. Her eyes were heavy with dark circles, and her skin was pale, lips bloodless and chapped. For a girl who was usually to meticulous in her appearance, even vain to a fault, she was making no effort, wearing her drab black mourning gown, her hair pulled back into a severe chignon that seemed to rob it of its trademark shine. She had even pinned her bangs back from her forehead, as if she wanted to erase herself of all identifying traits, so that no one would look at her and register who she was.
She had put off telling Narcissa long enough, but she knew the news would out eventually, and she cared too deeply for her friend to risk slighting her by hearing it from another source, so two days after the funeral she had sent an owl over asking to come for tea, and now here she was, waiting in the front foyer for her hostess, more wraith than strong, confident girl.
Narcissa had been there at the funeral, supporting her best friend and the rest of the Lestranges. It was Celeste she was really worried about, however, and so when she'd owled about coming for a visit, Narcissa felt a strong pang of worry. More than a pang, really, and she'd hastily agreed. Now, when Narcissa came into the foyer to greet her, her heart ached for the girl standing before her, so visibly devastated.
"Oh my darling, come sit. Would you like something stronger in your tea?" Narcissa asked, curling her hand around Celeste's arm and guiding her gently to sit somewhere they could speak privately without fear of interruption. Narcissa knew all too well what it felt like to lose one's father, and she wished it was a feeling Celeste had never had to learn.
She shook her head, letting herself be guided by the blonde's cool hand on her arm. There was one night she had given in to temptation and sought oblivion in one of her father's many find bottles of brandy, but that had led less to forgetting and more to uncontrollable sobbing, and the headache and nausea were not worth the price of the numbing of her senses.
"I... I haven't eaten, I don't think it would be wise," she said softly, admitting one potentially worrying thing in the interest of averting Narcissa trying to fortify her with liquor and leading to her getting sick all over the woman's carpets. She knew she would probably fret, but she was honestly inured to fretting at this point.
Narcissa did not fret aloud, at least, and instead called, "Dobby, bring us cucumber sandwiches and a fruit platter with the tea."
She would not force Celeste to eat, but she also didn't want her friend to get sick. She hoped she would have something. The house elf disappeared just as inconspicuously as it had arrived. That taken care of, she gestured for Celeste to sit and then took a seat next to her. Narcissa's hand lingered on Celeste's arm, trying to find that delicate balance between offering her support and smothering her with affection.
Though the blonde was often so very controlled and withdrawn, Celeste was one of the few she cared enough about to be vulnerable in front of and she said calmly, "You know that I am available for whatever you need."
Not that Narcissa believed there was anything that could really temper the grief of losing a loved one. Nothing besides time, she supposed, but then again, it had been months and still any time something reminded her too strongly of her own father, she was prone to burst into tears.
She sat where indicated, immediately twisting the fingers of one hand into the limp wool of her skirt, which was really too warm for the season -- though it didn't seem as though Celeste noticed what the weather was like. Exhaling softly, she reached up with the other hand to brush her fringe from her face, a familiar gesture that she seemed to make despite having pulled her hair back.
"Thank you, Narcissa. I -- I wish I had my head together. I appreciate the thought, though. You -- you're a lovely friend."
"Oh, darling, don't thank me," Narcissa said softly, concern growing for her friend. She was normally so eloquent, so composed, and now she was very clearly in pieces. "When -- my father died, I was inconsolable. I said things, terrible things, to a husband I am only too lucky to still have. He let me rage. He withstood it, and he soothed me, and though it didn't lessen what I was feeling, it did, somehow, make it easier to deal with."
Narcissa spoke haltingly. This was not a subject she spoke of often, or with any sort of ease. Not even with her nearest and dearest. Outside of Lucius, not even Regulus or Celeste, not even Bellatrix, had heard of her true reaction. It had been distasteful, it had been dramatic and ugly and dangerous. She had swayed, she had for that one night upon hearing, lost her faith in the cause. She had not been able to support something which had so unfairly been the cause of her father's death. Even if they were in the right, defending their heritage and history and all that the Dark Lord stood for, it was because the war that he started existed that her father had been lost.
Though it had broken her, Lucius had stayed with her and helped to put her back together again. Poor Celeste didn't have that, not really. Rabastan was the closest, and while she was sure he had been there for her, the shared grief of family sometimes only served to compound such feelings.
"If you need someone to... withstand it," Narcissa offered gently, "by all means."
She slumped forward a bit at Narcissa's admission, and her offer, not sure what she could say. She didn't know how she could withstand it, not when she literally had nothing left. The first few days, the thing that had been sustaining her, keeping her upright, was knowing that she could do her duty to her father, that she could still marry as he had wished her to and have children. If she could only do as he had wished, she knew she would be able to keep going, but then Regulus had taken away the only thing she had left. She hated him for it, hated him so deeply it consumed her, almost as much as the grief. She had never wanted to harm someone, but she wanted to harm him. If it were not for Narcissa, and Bellatrix, she thought she might be able to single-handedly wipe the Blacks from the face of the earth.
"I don't know if I can, Narcissa. I -- I feel as though I've been hollowed out. I just... there is nothing left anymore. I have nothing," she choked, leaning forward to cover her face with one hand, the delicate wrist that had always seemed so dainty before now looking as though it could snap at any moment, like she could crumble.
"Regulus has -- he's ended our... our arrangement," she finally managed, her voice harsh with unshed tears.
There was a moment of silence as Narcissa's small, sharp intake of breath hung in the air between them. She watched Celeste, watched for any sign of insincerity. Of course there was none, and Narcissa put a hand on her shoulder, the touch gentle despite the warring emotions within her. She couldn't comprehend that Regulus could do that, that he would, yet clearly he had. It explained why he hadn't been at the funeral. Narcissa's instinct to defend her family was at odds with the sudden and sure feeling that he was wrong to do so. An engagement was not something to be taken lightly. It was a contract, it was binding. And to break it now, so soon after the death of Celeste's father...
It was an insult. It suggested that without the weight of her father, Celeste wasn't worthy of the match. Without the Lestrange patriarch to enforce the agreement, Regulus was taking the first opportunity to shirk his obligations, to get away from her. He might as well just announce he had no taste for Celeste. Narcissa wondered if this had to do with that Chloe girl, and if it did, what on earth Regulus thought he was doing, and right before Celeste's father's funeral too.
Anger simmered at Regulus and she vowed to speak to him as soon as she could, but right now was not the time. Right now, Celeste was her priority.
She didn't know how to comfort this, though. This was a wrong she had no experience in. No one would dare leave a Black. By that turn, though, she had assumed no one would dare do such a thing to a Lestrange. Regulus was such a stupid boy sometimes.
"What will you do?" Narcissa asked instead, keeping her voice soft and concerned, careful to control the growing anger.
The hand on her shoulder brought on a silent sob, though her bent face hid any tears. She hadn't begun to cry until her conversation with Regulus -- it had seemed wrong, when her father valued strength so much, to weep over him, but when she had lost everything, she had lost her strength. Now the tears came freely and often, and that was almost as humiliating as being cast aside. Celeste Lestrange was not a crier.
"I don't know," she said softly, not lifting her head. "I don't know how to tell anyone. It's -- it's humiliating, and everyone will pity me and think me horrid. There is no one else, no one of our caliber, and I will either have to remain unwed or marry below myself and I can't. I need to have children, Narcissa, it is what my father wanted." She suddenly looked up, her eyes filled with a fury that spoke to just how much she hated Regulus in that moment. "He said we are no longer obligated to honour our fathers now that they are dead. He is the most faithless, base coward I have ever met. I loved my father, I will not simply chuck his wishes aside because he's been murdered."
Narcissa wasn't sure if Celeste would appreciate the gesture, but since she didn't think she could really make anything any worse, she curled one arm around the younger woman's shoulders and pulled her in a little as she brought her other hand to comfortingly pet Celeste's hair. It was the most calming gesture she could think of, and she only hoped it helped.
"I am so sorry. I thought he had more sense than this," Narcissa said, and her heart ached for Celeste. Not only had she lost her father, what had all but been one of his dying wishes was now crumbling to pieces. Regulus was certainly going to get a piece of her mind. How could he put her in such a position?
And Celeste was right, of course. There was no one left but Regulus who was fitting of a Lestrange. Tristan was the only Rosier left, and Narcissa knew he had expressed interest in Laelia Nott. Preparations were likely underway, so it would be in bad taste to intervene. Beyond the Rosier and the Black heirs, there was simply no one else good enough. If only Lucius had a brother, or if only Sirius hadn't defected.
Though, perhaps Celeste could look to an international match. There were some very prestigious families with similar political alignments in France. It was better than marrying below her standing here. But that wasn't really the point, Narcissa knew. The point was that her father had arranged the match with Regulus, he had sanctioned it, and there was no reason it shouldn't be honoured.
Shaking her head a bit, Narcissa couldn't help but ask, "How on earth could he possibly justify such a decision?"
She leaned into Narcissa's arm, needing her support more than she needed to prove she was strong enough to handle this on her own. Her hand brushed angrily against her eyes, wiping away the tears there as if they had personally offended her.
"He said that he respects me too much to marry me, since it is of course inevitable that we would end up hating each other, despite the fact that he has grown to like me. It is utterly senseless, Narcissa, I can't understand it. He's like a child -- I tried to move up the date of the wedding, since I thought it was unwise to continue to wait while both of our lines remained without heir, and he said that made him call it off. Apparently it would have been now or July, without my father here to force him to marry me." Her voice was full of venom, showing how utterly cut by the insult she had been.
Narcissa had always been of the belief that being a Black, there were some things they were above, some traditions they didn't have to follow if it didn't please them. That simply because of their stature and their name, they were above certain obligations.
But this...
Oh, certainly if her father had proposed a match that Narcissa had no interest in, she may have argued. She may have even refused, and she liked to think her father cared enough for her wellbeing to have respected her wishes. Such a stand, however, had she'd found it necessary to make, would have been made immediately. Once you agree, once the marriage is announced, once everyone knows, it isn't called off. Not unless that person did something to merit public humiliation of that sort. It was cruel, and Regulus had never struck her as a cruel or malicious person. It just didn't make sense, unless he truly despised Celeste that much.
While she didn't wish for her favourite cousin to be unhappy, she didn't understand why had he ever agreed to it in the first place if he was so dead set against it. Why had he made promises if he had only been waiting for the opportunity to get out of it?
And why had the opportunity he'd seized been, apparently, the death of Celeste's father?
"You're right. It doesn't make sense," Narcissa agreed, and despite her confusion, there was still anger there for the way Celeste had been wronged. "He is either being phenomenally selfish or excessively cruel, neither of which you should be forced to bear."
She shook her head, exhaling in one long puff as she tried to maintain control of her anger. What angered her the most about the way Regulus had handled his revelation was realizing that he truly believed he was doing the right thing "in the long term." He seemed utterly unaware of the ramifications of his actions, of how they would reflect on her, the mark she would carry on her reputation for the rest of her life. Every time her brother tried to arrange a match for her, if there even were candidates left, they would have to question why she had been chucked aside at the first possible opportunity. Surely, everyone would think, the problem had to be with her if Regulus would take the unthinkable step of ending their arrangement so soon after the death of her father.
"The most unreasonable part is that it seems Regulus truly believes he is doing the right thing 'in the long term.' He thinks that ending the arrangement now will save future heartache. He seems utterly unaware of how this is going to look."
It would look terrible. It would certainly damage Celeste's reputation, and Narcissa was well aware of how utterly it would affect Celeste's future prospects. It wasn't fair, of course, and just imagining the way people would talk...
Not everyone was as lucky as Narcissa was to get matched up with someone they were so well-suited to, of course. Narcissa knew that. She had really chosen her own husband, with her father's blessing. Though Celeste clearly wasn't so fortunate, Narcissa had thought that Celeste and Regulus would be good together. Maybe they weren't as naturally drawn to each other as she and Lucius had been, but sometimes that was the way the cards fell. Did Regulus honestly think that everyone was as happy together as Lucius and Narcissa? Did he think that happiness was more important than familial loyalty?
For just one moment, Narcissa saw herself in his place, and wondered if she would give her own happiness up for the sake of that loyalty. It was hard to say. Regardless, that didn't excuse his behaviour, and it certainly didn't make the consequences for Celeste any less dire.
She didn't know what to tell Celeste, though. Between the death of her father and this new situation compounding it, there was very little comfort she could offer. Besides, of course, Regulus' head on a platter, and she wasn't willing to go quite that far.
"Oh, that little wretch," Narcissa finally burst out. "I'm going to kill him."
"I think you will have to join the queue," she said with a laugh, though there was very little humour in it. The truth was, despite how much it would hurt Narcissa and Bellatrix, a part of her did wish that Rabastan would visit harm upon the boy -- in her estimation, it was the least he deserved.
She sighed and leaned her elbow on the table, resting her forehead against her palm. All of this crying, the lack of sleep, had given her a headache that had lasted for the last week, and it was beginning to make her feel like she was losing her mind.
"I felt like everyone went home after the funeral yesterday and had a field day talking about me. 'Poor thing can't even keep a man for a week without her father to force him to stay'."
"Just because he wasn't there doesn't mean people will jump to that conclusion," Narcissa said gently, but if she had been curious about it, concerned, wondering what on earth had been important enough to keep Regulus from his fiance's side at her father's funeral, other people would wonder too.
Before Narcissa could say anything else, Dobby appeared with the sandwhiches, fruit, and tea. Narcissa had forgotten about it in the intensity of the moment. Before she could scold Dobby for taking so long, he was gone again. At the very least he knew better than to linger. She would punish him later.
"What other reason is there for him to not be there?" she shook her head, not really noticing when the elf entered and left. Suddenly there was a tray of food in front of her and she didn't really seem to be aware of how it got there.
"And even if they think otherwise, the humiliation is just going to come in a few days, anyway. I don't even know how I'm supposed to make it known. I just -- I am going to be a laughingstock. My mother is beside herself."
Narcissa felt for Celeste. It really was an impossible situation. There was nothing she could do to make it better, really. The only person who had the power to do that was the person who had caused said impossible situation in the first place. Still, it didn't hurt to offer.
"Is there anything at all I can do?" she asked. Even if she were photographed with Celeste after the news broke, that might help. Clearly this would cause complications, as it would put quite the crack in the longstanding mutually beneficial relationship between the Lestranges and the Blacks, if not break it entirely. But Narcissa could still support her friend, so long as she could do so without publically condemning her family. Or... "I could leak something scandalous to the press. You know, cause a bit of a distraction. If it would help."
She shook her head, sitting back finally to slump against the back of the chair. She knew Narcissa was in a tough spot, and that her offer came from wanting to help her friend as best she could, even if there really wasn't anything she could do to make this situation better, short of forcing Regulus to honour his arrangement. Not that Celeste wanted anything to do with him, but short of him dying an early death in the next few days, it was the best outcome possible.
"Thank you, Narcissa, but that's not necessary. I wouldn't want you to compromise yourself just to temporarily distract people. Even if the scandal dies down quickly, the stink of it won't leave my name." She shook her head and passed a hand over her clammy cheek. "I can't say I'm not tempted to do everything I can to paint Regulus as an utter cad and a disgrace. If I shall never marry because of his actions, I think it only fair that he be ruined as well."
"Though I am inclined to think that he would deserve it, I must ask you to be careful," Narcissa said then, and for the first time since they'd begun speaking of it, she seemed unsure. "Please don't mistake this for a trivialization of what he has done to you, because it is not. And I assure you, I will be having words with him. But... Celeste, he is the last Black. If he doesn't have children, the name will die with him."
Whether or not Narcissa supported Celeste was moot. This was something that was bigger than either of them. Regulus was the sole heir. It was imperative that he have children, and while it would be ideal for him to have them with Celeste, if he was going to throw that opportunity away over what had better be more than cold feet, then they would have to find someone else. No amount of hurt feelings could exempt him from his familial duties. And while it was unfortunate for Celeste, the fact was that there were other Lestranges in the line as well as other marriage prospects for Regulus. The Blacks stood higher in society than anyone else, after all. That made Regulus the veritable crown prince, the heir apparent, of all of society.
Whatever Narcissa's feelings were on the matter aside, there was no point trying to humiliate Regulus. It would likely only do more damage to her later, somehow.
It was all Celeste could do to not wish good riddance to the Black line then and there -- Narcissa and Bellatrix were fine examples, but when their generation had also produced Andromeda, Sirius, and Regulus, the odds seemed to be less than half that any offspring was going to bring honour to the family anyway. Still, she knew Narcissa had to say what she was saying, even if it insulted her. Regulus' children were not more important than her life, and with or without Narcissa's help, she was going to destroy him.
"No point in him having children if he has them with that horribly unsuited Wilkes girl. He might as well marry a Muggle, for all the glory it would bring your family." As she saw it, there was no one better than her for Regulus to marry, no family greater than the Lestranges who had possible mates for him. No matter what move he made, he was degrading his line, and the most obvious one for him to make next also brought with it the smack of blood traitorism and unorthodoxy. With or without Celeste's help, the strumpet was going to drag Regulus into the mud.
Narcissa sighed. She could not take Celeste's side, and she wouldn't if she could. She was a Black, after all, and she wouldn't be disloyal, no matter how angry she was. "I would rather focus on you than on... this. You don't look at all well, and that is something we must rectify."
Celeste took tea there often enough that the elves knew how she liked it, and Narcissa lifted her own cup to her lips then, watching her friend with concern. It seemed so common to suggest food might help her grief, but Narcissa thought it was likely true. If Celeste had neither been eating or sleeping properly, doing a bit of both would likely be good for her.
"Perhaps I cannot fix the big problems, but I can fix some of the smalller underlying problems, and maybe that will help ease your mind somewhat," Narcissa said, and though she felt it was woefully inadequate in the face of what Celeste was going through, it was all she could offer in that moment.