InsaneJournal

Who: Narcissa and Lucius Malfoy
What: Talking and other stuff
Where: Malfoy Manor
When: Monday, March 23, 1998
Rating: Low



The scream of a peacock cut through the night air, jerking Narcissa from her magically-aided slumber. Her eyes flew open as she sucked in a deep, startled breath, then immediately closed again as the pain of breathing that deeply washed over her. Every time she woke up, it was a little easier to breathe and her body hurt a little less, but that was too much too soon and it made her chest ache all the more. The peacock screamed again, and Narcissa jerked, her eyes still closed as she tried to summon the strength to speak.

“Lucius?” He wasn’t curled up with her like she’d wanted since first waking up after the mess with Lady Noir and that disgrace to the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black, but she knew he’d be nearby. She didn’t think he’d left her side since bringing her back to the Manor.

He started up in his chair, where he’d been half-dozing with his journal in his lap. He set it aside, leaning in to stroke her hair. “I’m here, darling.” He had half a mind to hex the peacocks for waking her, and it was only the fact that it would require leaving her side to do so that saved them. He’d barely stirred beyond the bedroom since she’d been injured, sleeping in the chair beside the bed more often than the bed itself for fear of jostling her and making things worse.

Narcissa turned her head into Lucius’s touch and blinked a few times as her eyes adjusted to the low light in the room. “What time is it?” It felt late, but she’d spent more time asleep than awake since being injured, and it could have been high noon for all she knew. The curtains were pulled tightly closed, the charms on them keeping even the tiniest amount of light from seeping inside, and the only light in the room was coming from the small lamp behind the chair Lucius sat in.

He glanced at the clock on the side table. “A little before midnight. Do you need to sit up more? Would you like some water?” How many times had he asked those two questions in the past day? Still, she was a little more able to answer every time, so he had to trust that she was getting better, that things would be all right.

Midnight. That was… late. Lucius should be in bed. With her. But he wasn’t. Narcissa fumbled for his hand as she tried to think of the answers to his questions. “Water. Yes. No.” That would mean he’d leave and she didn’t want that. She wanted him closer. But her mouth was dry. “Yes.” She didn’t know the answer to the other question and didn’t think she had the energy to figure it out.

He’d been keeping a glass on the bedside table; with a quick aguamenti he refilled it, leaning in to help her sit up a little and drink. He was somewhat relieved, leaning close, to hear that her breathing sounded less laboured than it had before. But it was still so much effort for her to answer his simple questions. “Drink this, and then we’ll sit you up a little and see whether that’s better.”

“Okay.” The water felt cool on her throat and washed the lingering flavor of potions out of her mouth. She held onto the glass, though Lucius’s hand was the one that actually supported it, and pulled it away when about a third of the glass was left. “That’s enough.” The water helped wake her up and clear her head, so when Lucius started fussing with the pillows propping her up, she was coherent enough to grab his wrist and stop him. “It’s fine. Come to bed.”

His mouth tightened a little--he was still so concerned about jostling her and making things worse--but he wasn’t going to argue with her at a time like this, either. He could lie beside her carefully until she fell asleep again, at least. He stretched out tentatively on his side, curling in close and pressing a kiss to the point of her shoulder. Normally he would drape his arm across her waist and tuck his face against the curve of her neck, but for now he only laid his fingertips lightly against her upper arm and held himself as still as he could.

Narcissa missed the tightening of Lucius’s mouth and the tentativeness of his movements, just relieved that he was climbing into bed next to her. She waited for him to curl up with her the way he usually did, the way she wanted him to, but when he stopped with just his fingertips on her arm, she rolled toward him. Sharp pain shot through her and her breath caught in her chest. Narcissa pressed her forehead into Lucius’s chest as she tried to breathe, curled her fingers in his sleeve as she braced herself against the pain.

“No!” Once her grip loosened a little, he gently pressed her back into place. “You need to stay still, darling, you’re still healing. Lie back, there we are…” This was not right at all. He still didn’t dare to hold her, afraid the weight of his arm would make it more difficult for her to breathe, but he did tuck her shoulder beneath his chin, lifting his hand to stroke soothingly over her collarbone. “I’m here, Cissa. It’s all right.”

Except it wasn’t. She still hurt, it was still hard to breathe, and he still wasn’t holding her the way she wanted. She grabbed Lucius’s hand and pulled it across her chest, ignoring the way it made it harder to breathe. “Then be here!” Narcissa closed her eyes against the tears welling up in them. “You’re barely touching me, and… and I want… I need…” She struggled to take a deep breath. “I need more than just holding… holding my hand or… or touching my shoulder.” She opened her eyes and looked pleadingly at him. “Please.”

He would have done anything in that moment to hold her properly. But maybe-- “Wait. Wait, love, let me--” Lucius pulled away and sat up, rearranging the mountain of pillows that had accumulated yet again. This time, though, it was not to prop her up--instead, he settled back against them, then gently--gently--eased her into his arms, her back against his chest, her head resting against his shoulder. This way she was sitting up but supported, and his arms could rest below her ribcage, letting her breathe. Letting him hold her without being terrified of breaking her.

That was infinitely better. As Lucius pulled her back against him, Narcissa relaxed, finally feeling like she was being held--and comforted--properly. "Thank you," she said softly as she turned her head to kiss the underside of Lucius's jaw. She squeezed his hands, thankful that his arms were now wrapped around her, and let her eyes flutter shut. "I'm sorry."

She hasn't said that yet, had she? She didn't remember saying it, but the last... however long it had been was a blur. It needed to be said though, while she was coherent enough to think of it.

He kissed her hair, murmuring his response against it. “Why should you be sorry? I should have done this from the first. I’ve just been so worried...you were so badly off when we first came back...I didn’t want to take a chance of hurting you.” If anyone should be apologizing, it ought to be him--she shouldn’t be in this situation at all, shouldn’t be hurting like this, and she wouldn’t be if he had only--but that was a conversation for another time.

"For getting hurt. I should've--" She shook her head. It was hard to think around the potions fogging her mind and the rage she felt every time she thought about that mongrel who had killed her sister, but she should have done something differently when fighting broke out. "I don't know. But I didn't... It wasn't..."

“What?” Lucius shifted carefully, gently turning her face towards him. “No, no. This isn’t your fault. I should have stepped in sooner--I knew you hadn’t had the experience of--” He broke off and shook his head. “I should have put that dog down the moment he dared to aim a wand at you.” He’d gotten lax, overconfident, and she had paid the price for it.

“No. Sirius is… is mine.” She was fading fast, sleep threatening to overtake her again now that she was finally settled in Lucius’s arms, but he had to understand this was not his fault. She had gone after the mongrel. Lucius had just let her have what she wanted. It was harder to put that into words than it should be. “You didn’t…. You just…. Not your fault.”

"Shhhh," he soothed, kissing her temple. It was his fault, at least in part, but it wouldn't do Narcissa any good to belabour the point. "Next time, I promise you, we will both be prepared.”

Next time. Narcissa liked the sound of that. There would be a next time, and they wouldn’t lose. “Yes.” With a satisfied sigh, Narcissa snuggled a little closer and let sleep claim her again.