Entry tags:

lucius/narcissa

Fic: Reassurance (Lucius/Narcissa)
To: leni_jess
From: lidane


Title: Reassurance
Author: lidane (fic journal)
Recipient: leni_jess
Pairing: Lucius/Narcissa
Rating: NC-17
Warnings/Kinks: angst, very mild bloodplay, mild BDSM, wallsex
Disclaimer: None of this is mine, and I'm not making a dime off of it either. JKR and her publishers own everything.
Summary: In the aftermath of Dumbledore's funeral, Narcissa visits Lucius in Azkaban.

“Have courage for the great sorrows of life, and patience for the small ones."-- Victor Hugo

~~*~~

Even without the Dementors, Azkaban still frightened Narcissa Malfoy.

Located far to the north, on a small island of dark jagged rocks, with high walls and few windows, the island prison was the stuff of nightmares, used by parents and authority figures alike to scare children into compliance. Don't step out of line, they said, or the guards of Azkaban would come for you in the middle of the night.

The stories were horrifying, and had plagued Narcissa's dreams for years as a child. Her father would talk of soul-sucking demons that drained every ounce of joy and happiness from a person, and inmates who were so driven to despair that they would stop eating and wither away to nothing. Other relatives would talk of those who would suffer complete psychotic breaks with reality and attack their fellow prisoners, murdering them with their bare hands, or even going so far as to cannibalize each other.

She had been so terrified of Azkaban growing up that she had never visited Bellatrix during her incarceration, and had begged Lucius to concoct his stories of being cursed with Imperius in order to remain a free man after the Dark Lord had fallen. It was a fate worse than death to be here, she believed, because of the presence of the Dementors.

For all their talk of compassion and tolerance, the wizarding world at large really did have a sadistic streak. That was the only explanation for the reality of Azkaban.

Stepping off the rickety boat she'd been in, the blonde witch drew her cloak around her shoulders to stave off the cold, and pushed her hair back, taking a deep breath. Lucius had been incarcerated for the better part of a year, having been involved in a botched raid on the Ministry, ending with the death of Sirius Black, and Lucius' arrest and capture as a Death Eater.

Tonight would be the first time Narcissa would see her husband since his imprisonment. Communication had been all but impossible before, but now, with the Ministry otherwise occupied with the combined fallout from Dumbledore's death, the Dementors' betrayal, and the Dark Lord's latest reign of terror, she had found an opportunity to see the man she loved again.

Drawing herself up to her full height, Narcissa gathered her courage and began walking towards the prison tower.

~~*~~

It was no wonder that escape was nearly impossible from Azkaban, thought Narcissa. Most of the inmates were too far gone physically and mentally to pose much of a threat to anyone, or to make the effort to leave. Her father's voice echoing in her ears, the blonde witch made her way through the gates and into the living terror that had tormented her in her youth.

Stepping carefully through the dank, mildewed walls of the prison, she couldn't help but recoil at much of what surrounded her. Apart from the overwhelming stench and filth, bugs and vermin crawled along the floor, and cobwebs seemed to blanket the walls at every opportunity. And those were the more pleasant sights around her.

Inmates stared blankly at the wall, or silently rocked back and forth, muttering incoherently, lost in their own minds. One unfortunate soul had pulled out large chunks of his own hair, his skin covered with self-inflicted scratch marks of varying lengths and depths. Another had been so tormented by whatever memories the Dementors had dredged up that she had plucked out her own eyes, the blood and muck still caked on her face in long crimson streaks. Cell after cell, hallway after hallway, all she could see was an endless litany of suffering and misery. The whole of human desperation seemed to surround Narcissa at every turn, crashing down around her like a wave.

She only hoped that her husband's mind was stronger than the environment he'd been in all this time. Would he be damaged, or somehow changed by it all? Narcissa wasn't sure. All she could hope for was the best, and that Lucius had endured.

Turning the corner to the higher security cells, she suddenly came face to face with the new head of the Aurors, Gawain Robards, and a witch that she instantly recognized as her traitorous niece, Nymphadora Tonks.

~~*~~

"Nymphadora," she said coolly. "What an unfortunate surprise, seeing you here." She glanced over the body of the younger woman before her. Nymphadora's hair was a ridiculous shade of bright purple and down to her shoulders, and she was dressed in a long leather trenchcoat, boots, and a leather collar around her neck.

"My name is Tonks," answered the younger witch. "You know, like my father?"

"Ah. You mean that wretched Muggle your mother married. It’s a shame she sullied the Black name by marrying beneath her station," sneered Narcissa. "You really could have been a promising young woman instead of whatever it is you have become."

"I'm quite happy with my life, thanks," Tonks retorted. "It's certainly better off than yours, with your husband in here and your son a miserable little coward."

A white hot flash of rage spiked in Narcissa, and she reacted. "How dare you!" hissed the older woman as she drew her wand. "I should curse you where you stand."

"And end up in this place yourself, Narcissa?" asked Robards, earning himself a haughty gaze in response. "We both know that's not what you want. You could never survive Azkaban, unlike your sister Bellatrix. Then again, she had her insanity to shield her from harm. What would you have?"

Pursing her lips tightly as she sized up the older wizard, Narcissa put her wand down, glancing at the man before her. "Very well. I'll back down…for now. But this isn't over, dear Nymphadora," she promised. "One day, you'll look back on your life and see the error of your ways, and of your mother's betrayal of her blood," she added, looking at her niece disdainfully.

"Be that as it may, Narcissa," the head Auror replied as he motioned to Tonks, "I'm here to warn you about seeing Lucius. We'll be far enough away to provide you with some measure of privacy, but close enough that if you try anything, it will be your last mistake," he threatened as they walked off. "Don't do anything foolish."

"You would leave me with my wand?" she asked the retreating figures. "Why?"

"Because there is no way off this island by magical means," Robards answered, turning back to face Narcissa.. "You have no means of escape except the way you came in, and the wards in and around Lucius' cell prevent him from leaving. And I can see the fear of Azkaban in your eyes, no matter how you try to hide behind your arrogance. You'd rather die than end up here," he explained. "For those reasons, I'm willing to risk giving you some time with your husband, and with your wand. Considering the war that's coming, it may just be the last time you ever see him at all," he said, his back once again to her as he walked away confidently.

We'll just see about that, she thought to herself as she turned and headed to the end of the hallway to see Lucius.

~~*~~

As she approached the bars of his cell, Narcissa took a long look at her husband.

He had lost some weight, his facial features even more drawn and angled than before. There were a few more lines at the corners of his eyes, and his gaze was heavy, even somewhat haunted by his time in Azkaban. It hurt a part of her to see him like this, but Narcissa had faith that they would make it through somehow, even if she had to move Heaven and Earth to make it happen.

Finding her voice, she addressed him. "Lucius?" she inquired, and he looked up at her, their eyes meeting for the first time in over a year. Standing quickly, he began to move towards his wife.

Barefoot and dressed in a tattered prison uniform, Lucius still stood tall despite his circumstances, his grey eyes piercing and his manner aristocratic. "Cissy," he said as he walked to the bars, his voice slightly graveled from lack of use. His pale hand reached out, touching her face softly. "How I've missed you, my darling."

A discreet spell from a distance by one of the Aurors unlocked the cell door, and Lucius stepped back, allowing Narcissa to step in, the bars closing behind them.

~~*~~

Looking up at her husband, Narcissa started to speak, her eyes welling up with tears and her voice trembling with emotion. "Lucius…" she began, only to be cut off by his finger on her lips.

"Shhh," he answered. "It's alright, Cissy. Calm yourself, and be at ease. I've survived this long, and we will both make it through this war," he soothed, drawing his wife into his arms in a firm embrace.

To the outside world, Narcissa and Lucius Malfoy had a cold, abusive, loveless marriage that existed solely for blood purity and breeding. It was a façade they had worked hard to cultivate over the years, simply because it suited their purposes. Behind closed doors, and away from the undeserving eyes of the blood traitors, half-bloods and mudbloods that made up the wizarding world, however, it was an entirely different picture.

Standing there in the middle of the cell, Lucius allowed Narcissa several minutes to gather her composure before motioning for them to sit down on the simple cot against the wall. Taking his wife in his arms again, he started to speak.

"Did Draco carry out his orders from the Dark Lord?" he asked.

Shaking her head sadly, Narcissa replied, "No. Severus was the one who had to cast the Killing Curse. Draco faltered and lowered his wand," she said, feeling Lucius' arms tense around her. "It was a fool's endeavor to demand that of our son," she spat. "The Dark Lord knew full well that Draco could not carry his orders out. He set our son up to die!"

"And he did so because of my failings, Narcissa," he reminded. "You knew that."

"That doesn't mean that I should accept it, Lucius," responded Narcissa. "He's just a child, being forced into things that are far beyond his ability, and all for some ridiculous sense of equal exchange from the Dark Lord."

Moving to shush his wife, Lucius caught her gaze sternly. "The Dementors may be gone, Narcissa, but the Dark Lord still has ways of detecting even the slightest bit of treachery or doubt. You must be careful who is listening," he cautioned.

"I know it's wrong," she replied, "but at this point, I no longer care. My family is in danger and fractured, Lucius. You are here, and Draco has not been the same since the night the Headmaster died," Narcissa said, her voice small. "I fear the experience has traumatized him, though he masks his fear with false bravado."

"He will be fine. He is a Malfoy, and a Black," answered Lucius, his hands lightly tracing down her body before settling at the small of her back. "He has the magic and purity of our blood running through his veins," he reminded her as he brought his lips down, planting a small kiss on her forehead. "That blood will give him the strength he needs in this war."

The sound of a throat being cleared suddenly brought both Lucius and Narcissa out of their reverie, and they both turned to look at the bars.

"Pardon the interruption," said Tonks, ignoring the icy stares she was greeted with. "Robards wanted me to tell you that you've only got an hour before you have to leave."

"Very well, Nymphadora," replied Narcissa. "You can run along now. I will be ready for you to escort me out then," she scoffed, dismissing the younger witch with a wave of her hand.

~~*~~

Untangling himself from their embrace, Lucius stood and walked to the cell door, peering cautiously, making sure that neither Auror was close by, and that he and Narcissa were alone once more. After scanning the rest of the hallway, he turned, satisfied, and walked back to the small cot. He held out his hand and pulled Narcissa to her feet, pulling her into his arms once more.

Leaning down, he nibbled across her jawline to her mouth, biting her lip just enough to draw blood, the metallic, coppery taste making his cock twitch as his hands slid down her body. Breaking his kiss, he looked at her and drawled, "Darling, since our time is short tonight, shall we spend it more wisely?"

"Here and now?" she asked incredulously. "But they will be able to see us!"

"All the more reason, then," he growled, his hands becoming more insistent. "Let them watch. I am not concerned about the opinions of blood traitors and half-bloods," he said as he caressed her hips. "It has been a year since I've had you in my arms. I don't see a reason to waste this opportunity," Lucius said as he claimed his wife's mouth in a deep, warm kiss.

Not wanting to draw things out too long because of their time constraints, Lucius quickly stripped off her dress and his clothing, lifting her up and wrapping her legs around his waist. "Darling, do you have your wand?" he purred as he cupped his hands under her arse. When she nodded in reply, he said, "Excellent. I need you to cast a few spells for me."

A swish and a flick at a cobweb overhead turned it into a pair of fur-lined shackles. Another spell scrubbed the filth and grime from the wall, and when she was done, Narcissa tossed her wand on the small bed off to the side.

Carrying his wife over to the newly cleaned space, Lucius instructed her to hold her wrists over her head, and he quickly chained her to the wall with the shackles. He then surprised Narcissa with one final spell, done wandlessly, suspending her in mid-air to ease the strain on her body, meeting her shocked look with a wicked grin.

Kneeling before the blonde witch, the Death Eater carefully removed the dark, Slytherin green silk knickers she wore, and tossed them aside, turning his attention to the soft curls between her legs. Leaning forward, he kissed and nibbled her wet, slick folds, slipping two fingers inside her as he found her clit and began to tease her in a slow, circular pattern.

Bucking and circling her hips in time with his mouth, Narcissa worked to stifle her mewls and groans as she could feel her climax approaching. Lucius' cell might have had wards that prevented his escape, but there weren't any silencing charms in place, or anything to prevent unwanted attention, and she was damned if she was going to give her wretch of a niece ammunition for gossip.

For his part, Lucius knew he wouldn't last much longer, and he removed his fingers from her cunt and wrapped them around his shaft, coating his erection with her juices for lubrication. He then stood and eased his cock into her, groaning at the heat and velvet grip that surrounded him. Claiming her mouth in a passionate kiss, sharing her taste with her in the process, Lucius wrapped Narcissa's legs around his waist once more and released the suspension spell, bringing her full weight down on a particularly strong thrust as they worked to bring each other pleasure.

Finally, as he felt his own climax starting, he broke their kiss and caught her gaze. "Come for me, Cissy. Come now," his fingers lightly circling her clit as he spoke.

The feel of her husband inside of her, the look in his eyes, and the end of a long, lonely year without him was too much, and the tension snapped. Narcissa climaxed hard, her muscles squeezing down on his shaft, sending Lucius over the edge. A few more thrusts and they were both spent, the smell of sweat and sex in the air between them as they embraced.

"My dear," he said, his lips brushing against her temple, "how I love you."

"And I love you as well," she replied, kissing him in return.

~~*~~

As she left Azkaban on the same small raft she'd been on at the beginning, Narcissa couldn't help but think of where everything in her life stood.

Her husband was in prison, but was, paradoxically, much safer in there than he would be in the outside world, since the Dark Lord would be apt to seek revenge for Draco's failure to kill Dumbledore. And while she believed in all of the same matters of blood purity as Lucius, perhaps it was more prudent to allow the Potter boy to defeat the Dark Lord, simply to ease their burdens. In time, Lucius could repair his name, and the Malfoy family could rise to prominence once more.

Her son was traumatized by the events of this past year, and overwhelmed by the reality that was the Dark Lord, including his alliances with creatures such as the Dementors and the werewolves. He would always have those scars, and there was nothing she could do to prevent them.

Or was there? She wasn't so sure. But at least now, she had some measure of reassurance that things would work themselves out. And that, above all else, was worth braving Azkaban for.