(no subject)
Title: Bargaining
Pairing: Narcissa/Bellatrix
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: incest, het dub-con as a fantasy, overuse of the f word and italics
betaed by: floweringjudas
Notes: Written for into_desire for the 2007 reversathon fest. She asked for Narcissa/Bellatrix right after the events of Dumbledore's death.
The signal, when it came, was not unexpected. She'd been anticipating it, dreading it for nearly a year. A flash of light, and then there was a scrap of parchment hovering expectantly beside her hand. It was sudden and bright enough that a house elf was startled into dropping her midmorning teacup on the floor, where it shattered. Narcissa raised an eyebrow coolly at the wretched thing, which was wringing its hands in silent dismay (but none of that abject wailing; she simply couldn't abide their shrill little voices), and the elf hastily mended the cup and disappeared with a quiet popping sound. She reached out her hand and took the parchment, which had been creased into a messy square, and unfolded it. It was covered with thick black symbols, squirming and shifting all over the surface.
"Specialis revelio," she commanded the parchment, tapping it with her wand. Nothing. She tried several different variations of revealing spells, but all that happened was the markings grew denser, moved more agitatedly. Ridiculous. Grimacing, she touched her wand to the tip of her finger, and several drops of blood beaded on her skin. She smeared it, bright red (so pure), on the parchment, where it turned a dark rust. This was so gauche, so distasteful, really. "Toujours pur," she murmured to the symbols, to her blood dull on the parchment, and watched them shift and reconstruct themselves to form words.
She sighed. Must Bellatrix always be so dramatic?
She peered at the words which were now staring at her, patient and unmoving, from the rumpled parchment, and though she knew what it would say, had known it for a year, she felt her blood grow cold.
He's found a way. It's set for tonight.
She cast a silent Incendio and watched as the ashes fell fine and soft onto the floor. She sighed again, and waved her hand, banishing the mess.
.......................................
Afternoon, and she prowled the formal gardens, wishing for a stray twig or leaf to flaw the immaculate line of hedge so she could round on the gardener, savage. He raised his eyes cautiously as she walked by, and she wanted to snarl. Why should this man, worthy only to grub about in the dirt of their manor, walk about freely, while her husband was locked away? She turned sharply, heel making a small arc upon the earth, and wished one still owned one's human servants. Then she would send the gardener to take her husband's place, and Lucius would be smiling gently at her as the house elves brought them a glass of wine on the east balcony.
Dusk, and she resisted the urge to pace her parlor, staring dimly into the fire instead. A fire in June was unseasonable, but the profusion of marble kept the manor cool year round, and it gave her something to look at.
This should not be happening. Not even of age. Her only son. Nothing so base, so vile as this. She dropped a book onto the floor, relishing the dull thud as it landed.
Night, and the hollow in the pit of her stomach felt the way the yawning expanse of ink black sky looked from her bedroom window. The bed was so large lately that she felt lost inside it.
His silver-gilt hair spilling across her lap in exhaustion, absently stroking the strands until his father carried him up to the nursery. The haughty look on his face as he stood next a broom for the first time, the regal stretch of his tiny fingers as he commanded it to his side.
.........................................
Shouts from the hallway, and she shot up as instantly as though she'd not fallen into a light sleep.
"But mistress is--"a tiny voice squeaked.
"Elf, do not presume to question my place in this manor! Begone this instant!!"
A wail, obviously torn between fright of abandoning its duty, and fear of her sister.
Bellatrix appeared in her doorway, dark hair wild about her shoulders, black eyes flashing even at this distance. The elf moaned, and Bellatrix whirled around shrieking, wand pointing at its head. "I will not be disobeyed in my sister's own home! Cruc-"
This was going nowhere, and would only make Bellatrix more agitated, and harder to get answers from. "Tippy, leave us."
The elf gulped gratefully and disappeared with a loud crack.
Bellatrix was muttering something about "were my house elf" and "iron its hands" and then she looked up to where Narcissa stood. "Cissy, the very night your son is set to redeem the Malfoy name, and you lie here sleeping?" She looked incredulous, or very delighted. It was hard to tell with her sister sometimes.
Narcissa wished she'd had time to check her appearance in the mirror. Even very soft sheets sometimes left unsightly pink marks on pale skin. Her hair had fallen loose about her shoulders. "Bellatrix, what about Draco? What about my son? What happened?"
"Cissy," Bellatrix murmured softly, moving closer, reaching out and twining a lock of pale blonde hair around her fingers. "What is it you do to your men to turn them into such yielding fools?"
Narcissa swallowed. "What about Draco?" She found it hard not to snatch her hair back, but Bellatrix would probably hold fast, wrapping it tight enough that her fingers turned white, before she would let go. It was unnerving, to be tethered this way.
"Draco's alive, of course," Bellatrix said lazily, now weaving the lock of her hair between the first two fingers of her hand. Her eyes suddenly fixed her with a hard stare. "You saw to that last summer, if you'll remember." She carefully pried Narcissa's hair off her fingers, as though it were something distasteful, and not something she'd put there herself.
"Where is he, Bellatrix?" Bellatrix's dark eyes were hooded, and Narcissa wanted to strike her, grab the front of her robes and shake her, make her react, make her tell her what had happened to her son.
Bellatrix raised an eyebrow. Her sister had never worn that look as well as she, Narcissa thought idly. "Well, no one knows, do they?"
Narcissa froze, felt something dreadful and choking in her throat, wanted to claw it out.
"Imagine that," Bellatrix continued in a horrible, singsong voice. "The last son of the Black bloodline, and it's bad enough he's a Malfoy." Her voice turned arctic. "But you'd think, Cissy, you'd really think that you'd've done a little more to bring out the Black and a lot less to turn him into a miniature Lucius." She paused, continued viciously. "Or perhaps you wanted a second shot at Lucius, since the first one ended up so badly."
Narcissa's mouth dropped, opening and closing like a fish before she regained control. Only her sister could make her react like this, her horrible, horrible sister. She trembled in anger.
"If I'd had a son," she continued loudly, "He would've finished this months ago! There never would've been any doubt about his ability, never any of this dithering about for months while he claimed he was trying to find the way. He would've done the job and taken his place at the Dark Lord's side as his reward." She punctuated this by slamming her closed fist into the bedpost.
"If you'd had a son--" Narcissa shouted, then firmly snapped her mouth shut. Bellatrix's eyes flashed dangerously.
"Aren't you going to tell me, then?" Bellatrix asked, voice low, stepping closer. If it were anyone else, she would immediately classify the tone as seductive, but this was her sister, and Bellatrix didn't do seductive. Or subtle.
Narcissa didn't know what to make of this, so she tried to shift imperceptably to the side to add a bit of space between them, and immediately regretted it. Her hip was touching the bed, and there was nowhere else to move. She was suddenly almost paralyzed to realize that her first thought had been that Bellatrix wasn't being seductive because her temperament was so passionate and reckless, and not because she was her sister. It was simply exhaustion. The weight of a missing son, an absent husband. A bloodthirsty sister.
She dragged her eyes up to meet Bellatrix's heavy stare. Her black gaze was like a snake, hypnotizing her. She struggled to blink. She crossed her arms over her chest.
"Tell you what, Bellatrix?"
Bellatrix hissed, moving forward so she was touching Narcissa and slapping her palm on the spiral of the carved wooden bedpost. A snake then. "Why is it, Cissy, that I've spent the last hours at the Dark Lord's side, waiting for Draco to appear? Why is it that my own sister is the person directly responsible for circumventing His orders? You're lucky He doesn't curse you, but somehow that traitor Snape manages to be the one who'll reap the glory! Your son is a coward and Severus Snape will be at the Dark Lord's right hand because of it!"
The sting in her fingers registered before the realization that four pink stripes were blooming on Bellatrix's cheek, and suddenly the bones in her wrist were rubbing against each other under her skin, shifting and crushing together under Bellatrix's grip. Bellatrix was pushing against her and her knees were trying not to buckle against the mattress. "What do you want from me, Bellatrix?" she shouted, horrified to note she felt close to tears.
And then her wrists were loosed and Bellatrix was kissing her cheek, chaste and soft, and Narcissa closed her eyes in relief, in defeat. She was being pressed gently against the bed, soft, soft, and there were fingers soothing her hair and parting her robes, slipping inside, and the warmth of Bellatrix's body beside her. Goosebumps rose in the wake of fingertips skimming the curve between her ribcage and hipbone, and she tried, but could not suppress a shiver. Her sister's mouth opened against her neck, and then a tongue flicked slowly against the skin there. She squirmed, and Bellatrix pulled away suddenly, staring at her very intently, and lowered her mouth until it was scant centimeters away from hers. "Cissy," she whispered, and she could feel her breath on her lips, which fell open, in want of something to receive between them.
She was staring, rapt, at Bellatrix, whose eyes were so dark she couldn't tell where the iris ended and the pupil began. She felt a hard flick against her nipple, and whimpered at the unexpected pain, and the warmth it sent curling through her belly. Bellatrix's eyes shone bright, shone dark, and she looked slowly, deliberately at Narcissa, then down to where her middle finger made a circle with the tip of her thumb, hovering over her nipple. When Narcissa's gaze had followed, Bellatrix looked at her again, and then lazily flicked her nipple, harder this time. She inhaled sharply.
Bellatrix licked the corner of her mouth, sending a jolt of fire straight through her. She rubbed Narcissa's nipple with her thumb, tracing a line with her tongue across her bottom lip, and then licked the other corner of her mouth. Narcissa couldn't stand it any longer, and leaned up to capture her sister's mouth in a kiss. Bellatrix bit her lower lip and drew back, just out of reach.
"Bella," Narcissa whispered, straining toward her, lips parted. "Bella." And then Bellatrix's free hand was tangled in her hair, the other still rubbing her nipple in a way that she knew would make it sore, and a finger dipping lightly between her legs, gathering the wetness there on a fingertip. Smearing it across her lips, dragging back and forth until she sucked it into her mouth, dizzy, swirling her tongue around it and closing her eyes in relief. Then the finger was taken roughly away and her mouth was being filled, overwhelmed by her sister's. They had not done this since they were girls, practicing for the boys they would one day marry, the bloodlines they would fortify. But there had never been this heat, this feeling she would die writhing with want if her sister did not touch her just there. And oh- there it was, a finger moving in circles just inside her, circling around and around, neither deep enough nor where she wanted it and she shifted her hips restlessly, too nervous of her sister's judgment to bear down, to take what she wanted inside herself.
She tore her mouth from her sister's. "Bella," she panted.
Bellatrix began to suck lightly on her earlobe. "What do you want, Cissy?"
Narcissa whined. "Mmph. Bella. Bella, tell me what hap--" Bella bit her neck suddenly, causing a thrill of arousal to jolt through her. So long, it had been so long. She wrapped her arm around Bellatrix's shoulder, to try to pull her mouth back down to hers. Bellatrix pulled back, and had her wand pointed against her neck so fast Narcissa did not wonder that she was ranked so highly among the Dark Lord's servants. "None of that, now, Cissy," Bellatrix warned her. "Your hands stay to yourself, unless I want them somewhere."
Prohibited from touching, Narcissa's fingers itched to do only that, and keeping still was a distraction that made her want to thrash about restlessly.
Then Bellatrix slipped a finger inside her all the way to the knuckle of her hand, and held it motionless. It was thin, too thin to fill her, but it was something, and she rocked onto her sister's hand as hard as she could. The sensitive flesh there would feel bruised in the morning, but the hardness was delicious now. Bellatrix dropped her forehead onto hers. "Poor Cissy," she whispered, and withdrew her finger partially, slipping a second next to it and sinking them back inside her. "Is this what you need, Cissy? Is this what you need and Lucius isn't here to give it to you?" Narcissa's hips were frantic against Bellatrix's hand now. Bellatrix licked her neck. "You have to take it from your own sister, Narcissa," she murmured, "since you've turned your men useless and driven them away?" Narcissa's eyes flew open in protest, but then Bellatrix pulled her fingers out and slammed them back in so hard it felt almost like Lucius was fucking her and they fluttered shut again.
"Look at you," Bellatrix whispered as she worked her fingers furiously in and out of her sister. Narcissa was so wet she couldn't ever remember being like this and knew with certainty that she would burn these sheets before she would allow a house elf to clean them. Then Bellatrix tugged her hand down and began rubbing herself against her knuckles. Narcissa was shocked out of the sensation of her sister fucking her, and lay motionless. She glanced at Bellatrix's face, surprised to find her eyes were closed and lips parted slightly. Bella hadn't even noticed she'd stopped moving.
Slowly, cautiously, she rubbed her fingers against Bellatrix, softly enough that it could be excused as an accident. Emboldened when Bellatrix began kissing her neck, she slipped her hand under the band of her knickers. Her fingers encountered crisp curls, and she tentatively moved them further down, until she felt the wetness there. Bellatrix was kissing her neck harder, so Narcissa dragged her fingers up, smearing some of the wetness over her sister's clit. She repeated the process over and over, until she got the idea to press two of her fingers against Bellatrix so she could keep her fingertips in that incredible wetness and still put pressure against her where fingers joined with her hand. She moved her fingertips in circles, confident that the motion was traveling up her fingers to Bellatrix's most sensitive part by the way her sister suddenly hissed, and drew back. She continued for several minutes, Bellatrix watching her intently, her fingers slowing to nothing inside her. Her wrist began to hurt. This was terribly awkward, both of them inside each other.
Narcissa pulled back until she felt her sister's fingers slip out of her. Telling herself she felt powerful, and not disgusting, she tugged her hand up to her mouth. Looking Bellatrix in the eye, she slowly sucked her fingers into her mouth, surprised the taste was nothing like she'd expected. At Bellatrix's wide eyed stare, she dipped her head slightly, closing her eyes, and ran her tongue between her fingers. Bellatrix was drawing audible breaths, and Narcissa decided this was her chance.
She tugged her sister's knickers down over her hips, and dragged them down her legs. Bellatrix kicked them onto the floor (so careless, always so careless). She slipped her fingers between Bellatrix's legs again, emboldened when she moaned loudly in response. Bellatrix was moving against her hand, and surely she was distracted enough--
"Bella," Narcissa whispered, rubbing harder. "What happened? Is Draco--"
Bellatrix laughed, a delighted, happy sound that was absolutely incongruous with the fact that she was lying nearly naked underneath her baby sister. "Is that what you're doing, then, Cissy? Sacrificing your virtue for information? You'll have to try a bit harder than that." She laughed again, stopping with a sudden inhalation of breath when Narcissa angrily slammed two fingers inside her.
"Tell. Me. What. I. Want. To. Know." she growled, punctuating each word with a harsh jab of her wrist. Bellatrix moaned softly, nails digging into Narcissa's wrist to keep her inside.
"Fuck, Cissy," Bellatrix panted, hips rising to match Narcissa's thrusts. "This is such a hot look on you. I never thought I'd see the day when you'd finally show some backbone." Narcissa was fucking her furiously. "Mother would be so proud. She always thought you were so weak, that you'd have to--fuck, Cissy--you'd have to resort to your feminine-- your feminine whiles."
Narcissa was so angry that the only thing she could think of was punishing Bellatrix, but it didn't seem to be working. The harder she fucked her, the harder she moaned. The bones in her hand were becoming sore. She dug her thumb into Bellatrix's clit, rubbing hard, grimly satisfied when it elicited a gasp. Finally, then, she was making her point. "Oh Cissy, oh, I'm-- oh--" Bellatrix moaned softly, biting Narcissa's shoulder, fluttering and contracting around her fingers. She moaned again, kissing Narcissa gently, then biting down on her lip. She lay back, breathing heavily, eyes closed. Disgusted, Narcissa pulled her fingers out of her sister and wiped them on her hip.
"Why won't you just tell--"
Bellatrix's eyes flew open. "Did you think it would be that easy, Cissy? That you'd get me off and I'd be so overwhelmed I'd start rattling off names and details and reassurances?"
She rolled over suddenly, the peace and exhaustion of her orgasm as forgotten as though they'd never occured. She pinned her sister beneath her, holding her wrists in one hand, the other mercilessly pinching and rubbing her nipples. Narcissa bucked, trying to get Bellatrix off of her. Bellatrix scowled at her, muttering something that bound Narcissa's wrists above her head and left both of her hands free to fondle her sister's body.
She was still wet, absolutely soaked, she discovered when Bellatrix slipped a finger into her. Then Bellatix began rubbing her clit with her thumb, and she let out a moan so loud she wished she weren't afraid to obliviate her sister. Bellatrix lowered her head and began sucking her nipples.
Narcissa whimpered and Bellatrix began fucking her, slow at first but then harder, whispering things that burned her cheeks with shame but made her so impossibly wet she couldn't stand it. "My own baby sister," Bellatrix was saying to her. "If the Dark Lord knew what a slut you were, he'd have you restoring the Malfoy name flat on your back to any Death Eater who wanted you. What would Lucius say then?" she panted into her ear. "There'd be nothing he could do from Azkaban. You'd just have to--take it," she breathed into her ear with a particularly hard thrust. She did something twisty with her wrist and Narcissa whined. There was a sudden feeling of absence, of lightness upon her wrists. She flexed them experimentally, discovered she could move them again.
"Cissy," Bellatrix moaned. "Have to--Fuck." She pulled her fingers out of Narcissa and wiped her them across her lips. "Have to taste you," and slid down her torso until her head was positioned between Narcissa's legs. Narcissa bit her lip to keep from begging, and then Bellatrix lowered her head, dark hair pooling over Narcissa's abdomen. The first slow lick of her tongue made Narcissa's hips jerked up, and Bellatrix grabbed them and held them firmly. Short jabs of her tongue to lap up her wetness, and Narcissa began smoothing her fingers through her sister's hair restlessly. Tentative flick against her clit, and Narcissa threaded her fingers in her hair, tangling them. Then Bellatrix tired of being slow, and began licking and sucking faster and harder. Narcissa couldn't stop her fingers from tugging Bellatrix's hair, and froze in fear that Bellatrix would stop. But Bellatrix growled her approval, and Narcissa moaned, rocking on her sister's face.
"Fuck," Bellatrix murmured around her clit, and redoubled her efforts. Narcissa's eyes were squeezed shut with the vision of her on her knees at the head of a line of her husband's comrades. They were wearing masks and surrounded her. "You'll repay what your husband's mistakes cost me," the Dark Lord said in a cold voice. The men circled her, until she couldn't see her way out. One stepped forward, pulling a long, hard cock out of his robes. He slapped it against her cheek and she moaned as she took it into her mouth. He grabbed her head and began fucking her mouth and fuck, she was coming so hard, spasming all over her sister's face. She gasped for air, pulling Bellatrix up and kissed her, open mouthed and wet, tasting herself on her sister's tongue. Bellatrix collapsed, panting on top of her.
For a long time they lay silent, chests heaving, nothing in the room making a sound except their breathing.
"Bella?" she murmured sleepily against the pillow. "Will you--?"
Bellatrix murmured into Narcissa's neck, breath hot against her skin. "He's with Snape at Spinner's End. Snape took care of everything. The Dark Lord is so pleased that it won't matter that he wasn't the one who did it."
Narcissa closed her eyes, and fell quickly into slumber, the weight of her sister a comfort as it crushed her into the mattress.
Pairing: Narcissa/Bellatrix
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: incest, het dub-con as a fantasy, overuse of the f word and italics
betaed by: floweringjudas
Notes: Written for into_desire for the 2007 reversathon fest. She asked for Narcissa/Bellatrix right after the events of Dumbledore's death.
The signal, when it came, was not unexpected. She'd been anticipating it, dreading it for nearly a year. A flash of light, and then there was a scrap of parchment hovering expectantly beside her hand. It was sudden and bright enough that a house elf was startled into dropping her midmorning teacup on the floor, where it shattered. Narcissa raised an eyebrow coolly at the wretched thing, which was wringing its hands in silent dismay (but none of that abject wailing; she simply couldn't abide their shrill little voices), and the elf hastily mended the cup and disappeared with a quiet popping sound. She reached out her hand and took the parchment, which had been creased into a messy square, and unfolded it. It was covered with thick black symbols, squirming and shifting all over the surface.
"Specialis revelio," she commanded the parchment, tapping it with her wand. Nothing. She tried several different variations of revealing spells, but all that happened was the markings grew denser, moved more agitatedly. Ridiculous. Grimacing, she touched her wand to the tip of her finger, and several drops of blood beaded on her skin. She smeared it, bright red (so pure), on the parchment, where it turned a dark rust. This was so gauche, so distasteful, really. "Toujours pur," she murmured to the symbols, to her blood dull on the parchment, and watched them shift and reconstruct themselves to form words.
She sighed. Must Bellatrix always be so dramatic?
She peered at the words which were now staring at her, patient and unmoving, from the rumpled parchment, and though she knew what it would say, had known it for a year, she felt her blood grow cold.
He's found a way. It's set for tonight.
She cast a silent Incendio and watched as the ashes fell fine and soft onto the floor. She sighed again, and waved her hand, banishing the mess.
.......................................
Afternoon, and she prowled the formal gardens, wishing for a stray twig or leaf to flaw the immaculate line of hedge so she could round on the gardener, savage. He raised his eyes cautiously as she walked by, and she wanted to snarl. Why should this man, worthy only to grub about in the dirt of their manor, walk about freely, while her husband was locked away? She turned sharply, heel making a small arc upon the earth, and wished one still owned one's human servants. Then she would send the gardener to take her husband's place, and Lucius would be smiling gently at her as the house elves brought them a glass of wine on the east balcony.
Dusk, and she resisted the urge to pace her parlor, staring dimly into the fire instead. A fire in June was unseasonable, but the profusion of marble kept the manor cool year round, and it gave her something to look at.
This should not be happening. Not even of age. Her only son. Nothing so base, so vile as this. She dropped a book onto the floor, relishing the dull thud as it landed.
Night, and the hollow in the pit of her stomach felt the way the yawning expanse of ink black sky looked from her bedroom window. The bed was so large lately that she felt lost inside it.
His silver-gilt hair spilling across her lap in exhaustion, absently stroking the strands until his father carried him up to the nursery. The haughty look on his face as he stood next a broom for the first time, the regal stretch of his tiny fingers as he commanded it to his side.
.........................................
Shouts from the hallway, and she shot up as instantly as though she'd not fallen into a light sleep.
"But mistress is--"a tiny voice squeaked.
"Elf, do not presume to question my place in this manor! Begone this instant!!"
A wail, obviously torn between fright of abandoning its duty, and fear of her sister.
Bellatrix appeared in her doorway, dark hair wild about her shoulders, black eyes flashing even at this distance. The elf moaned, and Bellatrix whirled around shrieking, wand pointing at its head. "I will not be disobeyed in my sister's own home! Cruc-"
This was going nowhere, and would only make Bellatrix more agitated, and harder to get answers from. "Tippy, leave us."
The elf gulped gratefully and disappeared with a loud crack.
Bellatrix was muttering something about "were my house elf" and "iron its hands" and then she looked up to where Narcissa stood. "Cissy, the very night your son is set to redeem the Malfoy name, and you lie here sleeping?" She looked incredulous, or very delighted. It was hard to tell with her sister sometimes.
Narcissa wished she'd had time to check her appearance in the mirror. Even very soft sheets sometimes left unsightly pink marks on pale skin. Her hair had fallen loose about her shoulders. "Bellatrix, what about Draco? What about my son? What happened?"
"Cissy," Bellatrix murmured softly, moving closer, reaching out and twining a lock of pale blonde hair around her fingers. "What is it you do to your men to turn them into such yielding fools?"
Narcissa swallowed. "What about Draco?" She found it hard not to snatch her hair back, but Bellatrix would probably hold fast, wrapping it tight enough that her fingers turned white, before she would let go. It was unnerving, to be tethered this way.
"Draco's alive, of course," Bellatrix said lazily, now weaving the lock of her hair between the first two fingers of her hand. Her eyes suddenly fixed her with a hard stare. "You saw to that last summer, if you'll remember." She carefully pried Narcissa's hair off her fingers, as though it were something distasteful, and not something she'd put there herself.
"Where is he, Bellatrix?" Bellatrix's dark eyes were hooded, and Narcissa wanted to strike her, grab the front of her robes and shake her, make her react, make her tell her what had happened to her son.
Bellatrix raised an eyebrow. Her sister had never worn that look as well as she, Narcissa thought idly. "Well, no one knows, do they?"
Narcissa froze, felt something dreadful and choking in her throat, wanted to claw it out.
"Imagine that," Bellatrix continued in a horrible, singsong voice. "The last son of the Black bloodline, and it's bad enough he's a Malfoy." Her voice turned arctic. "But you'd think, Cissy, you'd really think that you'd've done a little more to bring out the Black and a lot less to turn him into a miniature Lucius." She paused, continued viciously. "Or perhaps you wanted a second shot at Lucius, since the first one ended up so badly."
Narcissa's mouth dropped, opening and closing like a fish before she regained control. Only her sister could make her react like this, her horrible, horrible sister. She trembled in anger.
"If I'd had a son," she continued loudly, "He would've finished this months ago! There never would've been any doubt about his ability, never any of this dithering about for months while he claimed he was trying to find the way. He would've done the job and taken his place at the Dark Lord's side as his reward." She punctuated this by slamming her closed fist into the bedpost.
"If you'd had a son--" Narcissa shouted, then firmly snapped her mouth shut. Bellatrix's eyes flashed dangerously.
"Aren't you going to tell me, then?" Bellatrix asked, voice low, stepping closer. If it were anyone else, she would immediately classify the tone as seductive, but this was her sister, and Bellatrix didn't do seductive. Or subtle.
Narcissa didn't know what to make of this, so she tried to shift imperceptably to the side to add a bit of space between them, and immediately regretted it. Her hip was touching the bed, and there was nowhere else to move. She was suddenly almost paralyzed to realize that her first thought had been that Bellatrix wasn't being seductive because her temperament was so passionate and reckless, and not because she was her sister. It was simply exhaustion. The weight of a missing son, an absent husband. A bloodthirsty sister.
She dragged her eyes up to meet Bellatrix's heavy stare. Her black gaze was like a snake, hypnotizing her. She struggled to blink. She crossed her arms over her chest.
"Tell you what, Bellatrix?"
Bellatrix hissed, moving forward so she was touching Narcissa and slapping her palm on the spiral of the carved wooden bedpost. A snake then. "Why is it, Cissy, that I've spent the last hours at the Dark Lord's side, waiting for Draco to appear? Why is it that my own sister is the person directly responsible for circumventing His orders? You're lucky He doesn't curse you, but somehow that traitor Snape manages to be the one who'll reap the glory! Your son is a coward and Severus Snape will be at the Dark Lord's right hand because of it!"
The sting in her fingers registered before the realization that four pink stripes were blooming on Bellatrix's cheek, and suddenly the bones in her wrist were rubbing against each other under her skin, shifting and crushing together under Bellatrix's grip. Bellatrix was pushing against her and her knees were trying not to buckle against the mattress. "What do you want from me, Bellatrix?" she shouted, horrified to note she felt close to tears.
And then her wrists were loosed and Bellatrix was kissing her cheek, chaste and soft, and Narcissa closed her eyes in relief, in defeat. She was being pressed gently against the bed, soft, soft, and there were fingers soothing her hair and parting her robes, slipping inside, and the warmth of Bellatrix's body beside her. Goosebumps rose in the wake of fingertips skimming the curve between her ribcage and hipbone, and she tried, but could not suppress a shiver. Her sister's mouth opened against her neck, and then a tongue flicked slowly against the skin there. She squirmed, and Bellatrix pulled away suddenly, staring at her very intently, and lowered her mouth until it was scant centimeters away from hers. "Cissy," she whispered, and she could feel her breath on her lips, which fell open, in want of something to receive between them.
She was staring, rapt, at Bellatrix, whose eyes were so dark she couldn't tell where the iris ended and the pupil began. She felt a hard flick against her nipple, and whimpered at the unexpected pain, and the warmth it sent curling through her belly. Bellatrix's eyes shone bright, shone dark, and she looked slowly, deliberately at Narcissa, then down to where her middle finger made a circle with the tip of her thumb, hovering over her nipple. When Narcissa's gaze had followed, Bellatrix looked at her again, and then lazily flicked her nipple, harder this time. She inhaled sharply.
Bellatrix licked the corner of her mouth, sending a jolt of fire straight through her. She rubbed Narcissa's nipple with her thumb, tracing a line with her tongue across her bottom lip, and then licked the other corner of her mouth. Narcissa couldn't stand it any longer, and leaned up to capture her sister's mouth in a kiss. Bellatrix bit her lower lip and drew back, just out of reach.
"Bella," Narcissa whispered, straining toward her, lips parted. "Bella." And then Bellatrix's free hand was tangled in her hair, the other still rubbing her nipple in a way that she knew would make it sore, and a finger dipping lightly between her legs, gathering the wetness there on a fingertip. Smearing it across her lips, dragging back and forth until she sucked it into her mouth, dizzy, swirling her tongue around it and closing her eyes in relief. Then the finger was taken roughly away and her mouth was being filled, overwhelmed by her sister's. They had not done this since they were girls, practicing for the boys they would one day marry, the bloodlines they would fortify. But there had never been this heat, this feeling she would die writhing with want if her sister did not touch her just there. And oh- there it was, a finger moving in circles just inside her, circling around and around, neither deep enough nor where she wanted it and she shifted her hips restlessly, too nervous of her sister's judgment to bear down, to take what she wanted inside herself.
She tore her mouth from her sister's. "Bella," she panted.
Bellatrix began to suck lightly on her earlobe. "What do you want, Cissy?"
Narcissa whined. "Mmph. Bella. Bella, tell me what hap--" Bella bit her neck suddenly, causing a thrill of arousal to jolt through her. So long, it had been so long. She wrapped her arm around Bellatrix's shoulder, to try to pull her mouth back down to hers. Bellatrix pulled back, and had her wand pointed against her neck so fast Narcissa did not wonder that she was ranked so highly among the Dark Lord's servants. "None of that, now, Cissy," Bellatrix warned her. "Your hands stay to yourself, unless I want them somewhere."
Prohibited from touching, Narcissa's fingers itched to do only that, and keeping still was a distraction that made her want to thrash about restlessly.
Then Bellatrix slipped a finger inside her all the way to the knuckle of her hand, and held it motionless. It was thin, too thin to fill her, but it was something, and she rocked onto her sister's hand as hard as she could. The sensitive flesh there would feel bruised in the morning, but the hardness was delicious now. Bellatrix dropped her forehead onto hers. "Poor Cissy," she whispered, and withdrew her finger partially, slipping a second next to it and sinking them back inside her. "Is this what you need, Cissy? Is this what you need and Lucius isn't here to give it to you?" Narcissa's hips were frantic against Bellatrix's hand now. Bellatrix licked her neck. "You have to take it from your own sister, Narcissa," she murmured, "since you've turned your men useless and driven them away?" Narcissa's eyes flew open in protest, but then Bellatrix pulled her fingers out and slammed them back in so hard it felt almost like Lucius was fucking her and they fluttered shut again.
"Look at you," Bellatrix whispered as she worked her fingers furiously in and out of her sister. Narcissa was so wet she couldn't ever remember being like this and knew with certainty that she would burn these sheets before she would allow a house elf to clean them. Then Bellatrix tugged her hand down and began rubbing herself against her knuckles. Narcissa was shocked out of the sensation of her sister fucking her, and lay motionless. She glanced at Bellatrix's face, surprised to find her eyes were closed and lips parted slightly. Bella hadn't even noticed she'd stopped moving.
Slowly, cautiously, she rubbed her fingers against Bellatrix, softly enough that it could be excused as an accident. Emboldened when Bellatrix began kissing her neck, she slipped her hand under the band of her knickers. Her fingers encountered crisp curls, and she tentatively moved them further down, until she felt the wetness there. Bellatrix was kissing her neck harder, so Narcissa dragged her fingers up, smearing some of the wetness over her sister's clit. She repeated the process over and over, until she got the idea to press two of her fingers against Bellatrix so she could keep her fingertips in that incredible wetness and still put pressure against her where fingers joined with her hand. She moved her fingertips in circles, confident that the motion was traveling up her fingers to Bellatrix's most sensitive part by the way her sister suddenly hissed, and drew back. She continued for several minutes, Bellatrix watching her intently, her fingers slowing to nothing inside her. Her wrist began to hurt. This was terribly awkward, both of them inside each other.
Narcissa pulled back until she felt her sister's fingers slip out of her. Telling herself she felt powerful, and not disgusting, she tugged her hand up to her mouth. Looking Bellatrix in the eye, she slowly sucked her fingers into her mouth, surprised the taste was nothing like she'd expected. At Bellatrix's wide eyed stare, she dipped her head slightly, closing her eyes, and ran her tongue between her fingers. Bellatrix was drawing audible breaths, and Narcissa decided this was her chance.
She tugged her sister's knickers down over her hips, and dragged them down her legs. Bellatrix kicked them onto the floor (so careless, always so careless). She slipped her fingers between Bellatrix's legs again, emboldened when she moaned loudly in response. Bellatrix was moving against her hand, and surely she was distracted enough--
"Bella," Narcissa whispered, rubbing harder. "What happened? Is Draco--"
Bellatrix laughed, a delighted, happy sound that was absolutely incongruous with the fact that she was lying nearly naked underneath her baby sister. "Is that what you're doing, then, Cissy? Sacrificing your virtue for information? You'll have to try a bit harder than that." She laughed again, stopping with a sudden inhalation of breath when Narcissa angrily slammed two fingers inside her.
"Tell. Me. What. I. Want. To. Know." she growled, punctuating each word with a harsh jab of her wrist. Bellatrix moaned softly, nails digging into Narcissa's wrist to keep her inside.
"Fuck, Cissy," Bellatrix panted, hips rising to match Narcissa's thrusts. "This is such a hot look on you. I never thought I'd see the day when you'd finally show some backbone." Narcissa was fucking her furiously. "Mother would be so proud. She always thought you were so weak, that you'd have to--fuck, Cissy--you'd have to resort to your feminine-- your feminine whiles."
Narcissa was so angry that the only thing she could think of was punishing Bellatrix, but it didn't seem to be working. The harder she fucked her, the harder she moaned. The bones in her hand were becoming sore. She dug her thumb into Bellatrix's clit, rubbing hard, grimly satisfied when it elicited a gasp. Finally, then, she was making her point. "Oh Cissy, oh, I'm-- oh--" Bellatrix moaned softly, biting Narcissa's shoulder, fluttering and contracting around her fingers. She moaned again, kissing Narcissa gently, then biting down on her lip. She lay back, breathing heavily, eyes closed. Disgusted, Narcissa pulled her fingers out of her sister and wiped them on her hip.
"Why won't you just tell--"
Bellatrix's eyes flew open. "Did you think it would be that easy, Cissy? That you'd get me off and I'd be so overwhelmed I'd start rattling off names and details and reassurances?"
She rolled over suddenly, the peace and exhaustion of her orgasm as forgotten as though they'd never occured. She pinned her sister beneath her, holding her wrists in one hand, the other mercilessly pinching and rubbing her nipples. Narcissa bucked, trying to get Bellatrix off of her. Bellatrix scowled at her, muttering something that bound Narcissa's wrists above her head and left both of her hands free to fondle her sister's body.
She was still wet, absolutely soaked, she discovered when Bellatrix slipped a finger into her. Then Bellatix began rubbing her clit with her thumb, and she let out a moan so loud she wished she weren't afraid to obliviate her sister. Bellatrix lowered her head and began sucking her nipples.
Narcissa whimpered and Bellatrix began fucking her, slow at first but then harder, whispering things that burned her cheeks with shame but made her so impossibly wet she couldn't stand it. "My own baby sister," Bellatrix was saying to her. "If the Dark Lord knew what a slut you were, he'd have you restoring the Malfoy name flat on your back to any Death Eater who wanted you. What would Lucius say then?" she panted into her ear. "There'd be nothing he could do from Azkaban. You'd just have to--take it," she breathed into her ear with a particularly hard thrust. She did something twisty with her wrist and Narcissa whined. There was a sudden feeling of absence, of lightness upon her wrists. She flexed them experimentally, discovered she could move them again.
"Cissy," Bellatrix moaned. "Have to--Fuck." She pulled her fingers out of Narcissa and wiped her them across her lips. "Have to taste you," and slid down her torso until her head was positioned between Narcissa's legs. Narcissa bit her lip to keep from begging, and then Bellatrix lowered her head, dark hair pooling over Narcissa's abdomen. The first slow lick of her tongue made Narcissa's hips jerked up, and Bellatrix grabbed them and held them firmly. Short jabs of her tongue to lap up her wetness, and Narcissa began smoothing her fingers through her sister's hair restlessly. Tentative flick against her clit, and Narcissa threaded her fingers in her hair, tangling them. Then Bellatrix tired of being slow, and began licking and sucking faster and harder. Narcissa couldn't stop her fingers from tugging Bellatrix's hair, and froze in fear that Bellatrix would stop. But Bellatrix growled her approval, and Narcissa moaned, rocking on her sister's face.
"Fuck," Bellatrix murmured around her clit, and redoubled her efforts. Narcissa's eyes were squeezed shut with the vision of her on her knees at the head of a line of her husband's comrades. They were wearing masks and surrounded her. "You'll repay what your husband's mistakes cost me," the Dark Lord said in a cold voice. The men circled her, until she couldn't see her way out. One stepped forward, pulling a long, hard cock out of his robes. He slapped it against her cheek and she moaned as she took it into her mouth. He grabbed her head and began fucking her mouth and fuck, she was coming so hard, spasming all over her sister's face. She gasped for air, pulling Bellatrix up and kissed her, open mouthed and wet, tasting herself on her sister's tongue. Bellatrix collapsed, panting on top of her.
For a long time they lay silent, chests heaving, nothing in the room making a sound except their breathing.
"Bella?" she murmured sleepily against the pillow. "Will you--?"
Bellatrix murmured into Narcissa's neck, breath hot against her skin. "He's with Snape at Spinner's End. Snape took care of everything. The Dark Lord is so pleased that it won't matter that he wasn't the one who did it."
Narcissa closed her eyes, and fell quickly into slumber, the weight of her sister a comfort as it crushed her into the mattress.