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Tweak says, "You Think You're A Man"

Lucius Malfoy (in_deep) wrote in wished,
@ 2010-02-28 22:42:00

Entry tags:

!1998: 02, !incomplete, lucius malfoy, narcissa malfoy

Who: Lucius & Narcissa Malfoy
What: Coping with Grimmauld aftermath
When: Tonight
Where: The Manor, in the library
Rating/Warnings: Low, TBA

The pain had gone from debilitating to merely intolerable in time to let him carry out his orders without substantial difficulty, and he had expected it to go away once he'd made his amends - but when he had arrived home it had still been with him. He had shut himself in the library and waited for it to pass. He couldn't have slept, and so he hadn't gone to bed. It would only have disturbed Narcissa, and truth be told he wasn't sorry for an excuse not to face her while his Mark was burning. He knew very well what would have been going through her mind - the same thing that was circling endlessly in his even now, a full day later, the same thing that had reduced him to pulling a book off the shelf for the first time in years and trying to think on anything else.

Easier said than done, in a room this dark. He always came here specifically because it was close and warm and a little gloomy, but struggling to make out undersized text about some war he'd forgotten the details of in his second year at school after two days of no sleep at all was only adding a headache to his already considerable troubles. When one of the elves scampered nervously in to offer him a glass of water for something like the tenth time, he gave it a sharp kick to the side before it could get the words out. "You can build up the fucking fire," he growled, even his own voice grating miserably on his nerves. "And get out. And close the door behind you, for once." They always forgot.

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porcelain_doll
2010-03-07 02:28 pm UTC (link)

As much as she did not want to place the burden of her secret on Lucius, she had to accept that by doing so she was upholding the honesty she expected from him in return. That was, quite possibly, the only reason she confessed at all. No weight had been lifted by telling him of the Unbreakable Vow; if anything it just made it worse. Now he was at risk of being seen as an accomplice to her treason. It was too much for her to think about. She just couldn't think anymore on it now.

All of it was too much tonight. She took one long cleansing breath to try to calm herself. No more tears tonight. Her expression softened as his turned lost. She closed what physical distance was left between them and looked up at him with a tenderness she would never bestow on anyone else (save for their son, though even that was a bit different). Gently, she reached up to brush her fingers along his jawline. "I do hope one day you'll learn that the only disturbance I find at night is when you're not there." Instead of drawing her hand back, she slid it up to rest on his cheek.

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in_deep
2010-03-07 10:29 pm UTC (link)

"We'll just see what you have to say about it in the morning," he replied, as the feel of her hand cemented the matter for him. He was exhausted, unkempt, unshaven and felt as though he were dangerously close to developing a permanent twitch, and it struck him as strange that she would want him with her. It made sense enough to castigate him for not coming to bed, but it seemed to him that the logical closing of that particular argument ought to have been more nights spent alone on the couch, not fewer.

But then, he wasn't thinking clearly. It was better not to try to puzzle things out until he could do so as himself. Another few hours (he hoped and prayed no more than another few hours) wouldn't count for much. There wasn't any rush. He took her hand, feeling unbearably clumsy. "Although it's warmer here, you know."

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porcelain_doll
2010-03-08 12:58 am UTC (link)

The past couple of years had been very eye opening for Narcissa. Having to live in the Manor alone without him had been unbearable. It mattered very little to her what he looked like, as long as she had him home. Her primary concern for her husband was his well-being. She would have liked very much to go back to a time when their appearance mattered more to her than much else, although with her shifted priorities she did come to learn just how much she loved and needed her husband.

Narcissa turned her hand to lace their fingers. Her gaze would not leave his, for she feared she might lose him again. "Here or anywhere; it matters very little to me. Just stay with me." It was a rare thing for her to speak so emotionally, but she'd been brought to a very vulnerably state of mind. It could not be helped.

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in_deep
2010-03-08 02:56 am UTC (link)

"I'll be desperately unchivalrous, then," he said, extending his hand to the long sofa that sat some distance from the fireplace, "And ask you stay here a while." There probably had been a reason, once, why this room was where he came to weather the worst things. He'd forgotten it, but the fact remained that it was his refuge of choice. It would be nice, he thought, to keep his bedroom as well separated from this sort of unpleasantness as he possibly could. It was childish (and too late, at that), but there it was.

He waited for her to sit, and then lowered himself beside her. It was difficult not to wish for some sort of ending to it all, nights like these. It might have been a more satisfying exercise, though, if he'd known which outcome to hope for. Living in the moment had never been his strongest suit. Nevertheless, he tried - this was, after all, one of the better moments.

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porcelain_doll
2010-03-10 01:57 pm UTC (link)

It truly did not matter to her where they were, as long as she could be near him. She'd been feeling quite alone for some time. Much of it was her own doing, by keeping her secret from him no matter what her motives were. Now that he knew, she felt a little closer to him despite the circumstances. Nonetheless, confessing such a thing had left her feeling vulnerable and her emotions raw and exposed. It wasn't something she was particularly fond of, but he was her husband. Their wedding vows had assured her that he was the one she was supposed to be close to in times such as these.

Narcissa sat beside him on the sofa, and leaned into him momentarily. Neither of them was truly in a positon to be the strong pillar for the other, but she hoped perhaps they could lean on each other and maintain support that way. Very carefully, she took his aching arm by placing her hand on the underside of it. With the other, she pulled up his sleeve and gently lifted the cold compress, then flipped it over and laid it against the Mark etched in his skin. "You need not ask for me to stay. This is where I wish to be."

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in_deep
2010-03-11 05:01 am UTC (link)

Lucius sank back into the sofa, quite happy for the weight on his shoulder. It was a comfort, even if his back wouldn't come out of knots. He kept his face more or less impassive as she took his arm; just as nothing really helped to allay the pain, nothing exacerbated it terribly, either. It was good to feel her hands, and to see her efforts, even if they made only a minimal physical difference. "Thank you," he said after a brief hesitation in which he decided he was feeling too stupid for any attempt at wit. "I'm glad for the company. ... Not everyone is so lucky."

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