Happy Traditions, leianora! Title: Life is a Magic Thing, Part the First Author:foppet Gift For:leianora Pairing: Narcissa/Lucius Summary: The coming of the May in 1980 is very different than any other, for the Malfoys. Rating: NC-17/R-18 Warnings: Light Domination/Submission, Pregnancy Author’s notes: Narcissa is Domme. I took elements from all kinds of pagan spring celebrations for this May tradition. The title is taken from the song from Fern Gully.
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The spring crickets lit the night with their music, and the warmth ensured that Lucius wasn’t chilled, even wearing so little. Currently he stood on a blanket that had been spread on a corner of the lawns; a corner of the lawns that was tucked away from view, a corner of the lawns in front of the French doors—a corner of the lawns accessible only by going into the sumptuous master bedroom. The courtyard was like a tiny piece of Elysium—hawthorn trees formed the sides and at the centre, an enormous yew spread her branches, forming a canopy. Ferns and clover covered the shaded ground beneath.
The pale figure of Lucius, his skin flushed with arousal as his wife painted him, almost seemed not to belong. Surrounded by the green shadows of the spring morning that filtered through the leaves, he and Narcissa looked like leftover winter, pale and snowy with their fair features.
‘Mistress…’ Lucius murmured softly. ‘Please…’
Narcissa smiled, kissing her husband softly after finishing a rune. ‘Hush, love, hush,’ she cooed. ‘Almost done.’ She dipped her fingertips into the blue paint again, beginning on the last rune. She smiled when she heard his voice above her, tiny moans in his throat as she delicately pained the last rune on his hardened length.
Setting the bowl aside, she blew gently on the paint before unfastening the silk band that encircled the base of his cock. He fell to his knees at her feet, an audible sigh on his lips as he rested his cheek on the swell of her belly.
‘Thank you, Mistress.’ His voice was saturated with relief, gratitude. Narcissa stroked his hair gently, lowering herself to recline against the trunk of the yew tree, her breasts heavy and swollen from her pregnancy.
Lucius thought she looked more beautiful than ever, now that she was with child. Smiling, he kissed her belly, nestling beside her and moving his kisses to her throat.
‘Lucius…’ Narcissa murmured; hearing the pain in her voice, Lucius looked up, brows creased with worry. She was blushing slightly, but spoke, laying a hand on his cheek as her voice got softer. ‘The baby sha’n’t be here for another month…’
‘I know, lover,’ Lucius murmured, sensing this wasn’t part of their usual game. His lips were against her neck, just below her ear.
‘Well,’ Narcissa continued, with a soft laugh. ‘My body seems to think there is a baby that wants milk already.’
Lucius took her meaning, and laughed softly, leaning up to give her a look, arching a brow. ‘Narcissa Malfoy, you are kinky.’
‘O, come now!’ Narcissa said, ‘It’s really less strange than drinking the milk from an entirely different species!’
‘Point,’ Lucius conceded, turning his gaze to his wife’s chest. By now, after six years of marriage, Lucius knew every tiny detail of her breasts, from how big they were in relation to his hands to the fact that there was a tiny beauty mark inside the left areola that he found absolutely gorgeous. Usually they were pale, like the rest of her, with soft blush-pink on the sensitive nipples and areolas. Now…he saw her pain, from the tautness of the skin to the way they were flushed, the capillaries almost visible. He was afraid to breathe on them.
Don’t be. Her voice in his mind was a whisper, and Lucius smiled wanly.
‘Wo’n’t this interrupt the spring rites?’ he murmured, though it was less protesting than he meant it to be—his libertine nature was curious about anything new and strange involving pleasure….
‘Boy…’ Narcissa put on her Mistress Voice again, the pain seeming to intensify now that relief was so close, and Lucius didn’t hesitate further. She arched as she felt his lips on her. ‘Ah! Lucius! Yes….’
His hand slid between her thighs, questing gently between the outermost labia. Her body wasn’t giving milk, not yet, but Lucius suspected it would soon if they added this new element to their nightly cavorting. Narcissa’s lips gave forth throaty praise as Lucius gently teased her.
‘May I please fuck you, Mistress May?’ Lucius asked playfully as he held himself over her, switching to nestle along her other side. Narcissa laughed, her eyes dark as sapphires now, voice as low as it ever got, a tigress-purr.
‘Not yet, boy, not yet…but soon.’
‘Mmm, thank you….’ He kissed her before beginning on her other breast, the one with the tiny fleck of melanin. Before sucking the delicate skin, Lucius kissed the tiny freckle reverently, moving his hand to slide fingers inside her. He felt the warmth from the runes tingling now, as though the magic knew the offering for the May would be forthcoming.
‘Lucius…’ Narcissa’s voice held wonder now, and Lucius saw the glow from the runes on the edges of his vision. No matter how many years they did it, the rune-glow on her husband’s skin would always transform him from man to god, in her eyes. What god, Narcissa still wasn’t sure. Not Herne, not Pan, not any god-of-Spring she could ever think of; he was a gentler god than these, quiet and of the softer joy of spring. Rain and hawthorn blossoms, the scent of earth and the sleepy planet coming alive again, in the warm sunlight….
He lay back and Narcissa sat up, straddling his hips and lowering herself onto him; his head fell back onto the blanket-covered earth, and sculpted lips curled upward in a smile Narcissa was the sole keeper of. The runes for fertility and life spidered over him, glowing brighter as she moved, and his hair seemed threaded through with purest sunshine now, as she moved atop him. His eyes opened, and Narcissa’s breath caught at the rainbows caught in them, the mirror-grey that usually picked up the colours around it now seeming to do the opposite, radiating with shimmering colours that lent vivacity to their surroundings. Hands splaying on her generous hips, Lucius felt the power filling him, the rush from the pleasure, love and simple joy of spring thrumming, humming, purring…he pushed it into her and she gasped, tossing her head back.
‘Lucius!’
He felt her body shudder around him, and he let it coax his own orgasm from him, arching as the eldritch power surged into his hips and upward, into his beloved, green swirling like vines from her hips and over her belly, blinding bright and rampantly joyful.
‘Narcissa!’ he cried back to her, for once not caring at how high his voice was, or appearances, or if the spider webs of the war would ever clear from his mind—the rite of spring erased every dark thought, finally, and settled to a pleasant tingling. As he helped his wife to lay beside him, Lucius finally felt alive again. He laughed, full-throated, and Narcissa joined him; they lay looking up at the canopy from the yew tree for a long silence, the dappled light letting pale skins enjoy the sun without fear of burns.
‘Mmm…I like being full of life for spring,’ Narcissa remarked after a long moment. ‘I finally feel as though I am a part of it.’
Lucius kissed her, and her belly, before resting his hands against the roundness; his face lit in a smile as he felt Draco move. The expression was so child-like in its wonder that Narcissa couldn’t help but laugh, putting her hands over his.
‘I love you, my dear Lucius,’ she said fondly.
‘I love you, o glorious sex goddess that is my wife.’ It would have sounded silly from anyone else, but the way Lucius uttered the phrase…there was such conviction. Narcissa knew he meant the words in more than a compliment, and blushed in pleasant warmth.