"Family Portrait," Cygnus, G Title: Family Portrait Author:green_amber Characters/Pairing: Cygnus and various Blacks Summary: It's Christmas, and everyone is together again. Think of that, think of the life you have lived, and be at peace with it. It's all you can do. Rating: G Warning(s): none Originally Written: 5/06 Notes: for the 10 of Cups challenge at fandom_arcana
Cygnus drank his wine in silence. Surely Druella was accustomed to his quiet spells after all these years. Besides, she was busy with Cissy, cooing at the tiny blond boy in Cissy's arms, oblivious to the husband she married for duty. (Never for love.)
Cissy was always Druella's daughter above all--a thing of rose petals and hair potions, a foreign creature Cygnus never understood, was always afraid he'd break. It was this perfumed and obedient child who'd made the grand alliance, and Cygnus was never sure if she was happy. He knew he'd never know; if she regretted playing the pawn in the matrimonial games of society, she was not the sort to say so. She and Lucius had the sort of mannered, elegant almost-affection that could mask anything from violent passion to the iciest of hatreds.
Bella--now, Bella was his child, some alchemical blend of the son he'd never had and the sort of rough-and-tumble chum he'd been denied after his early marriage. They'd aged him before his time, but he felt young again when the brandy swirled in his glass and Bella was there to pit her queen against his king on the chessboard, to raise her husky voice in a political argument. She, too, was married now, yet Cygnus watched the way she and Rodolphus sparred, watched as they bickered in one corner of the room.He knew she was not tamed, and smiled.
The other--the one who did not exist--whose child was she? Had he or Druella ever truly tried to understand her? He couldn't recall. His vision blurred for a moment (the wine, just the heady elf-made wine), and he could almost see her curled in one corner of the sofa, seeking company in the dusty pages of a book rather than in the bosom of her family. Unnatural.
She still grinned down from the group portrait over the crackling fire, though the painted mother and sisters pursed their lips and shook their heads when they looked at her.
Cissy's baby squalled; Cissy cradled him to her chest. Lucius leaned over his wife and child, murmuring something. Cygnus imagined he saw arrogance in every line of Lucius' body, in the proud glint in his eyes. Cygnus felt his failure reflected in those eyes.
No sons.
Bella was as fierce as any man, but she was not a son, could never be a son. The only male of Cygnus' line would carry the Malfoy name. He could already see the Malfoy face in the child's features. What use the early marriage, the sublimation of whatever life Cygnus might have carved out for himself, if his line was destined to fail?
He took another sip of the wine, letting the comforting heat blaze its path down his throat. It's Christmas, and everyone is together again. Think of that, think of the life you have lived, and be at peace with it. It's all you can do.
This is not everyone.
Everyone. This is everyone. We are the Black family, and we are happy.