Ooooh, squickfic!
Hmmmm, I goofed, but just a little bit. So technically my fic isn't in the particular timeframe of the HP books, but it's what hit me, and so it's what I wrote. I am thinking I might have time for anothre, but I might have to cast around a little for inspiration, and we all know how that goes.
I decided it was ready now...I can't think to make it better, I wanted it to be less wordy, but I don't have the talent of using few words to make a big point like some do. I tend to be verbose...umm, yeah...like I am now. So here is is, posted long before I thought it would be, but that's okay becasue I want to try my hand at my R/S that's in progress, plus I will have to grab my slingshot and hunt down another bunny.
Title: As his Name
Author: aquila_star
Rating: hard R I think, ratings don't like me.
Word Count: Ironically, 1979 Freaky deaky.
Pairing: wait for it...Orion and Walburga Black. Okay, you can hit me now. (squickfic right??)
Warnings: Okay, a first for me. Dub/non con...bordering on rape, not sure how others might view it. Voyeuristic house elf, implied squickys there too. Implied character death. General squickyness.
Disclaimer: Don't hate me cause I write squickfic. Okay usually I don't! Blame flamewarrior for the challange makes the bunny don't you know!!
~~~~~~1958 ~~~~~~
Walburga sat silently in the dark room, waiting, waiting for the life she didn’t want to begin. He would be coming to her soon, her new husband. Arranged marriages being what they are, deals struck purely for money or the perpetuation of a pureblood line, she had not known any more about her husband than his name and face, glimpsed a few times at parties, before she stood up to marry him. She had no idea what to expect. Would she come to love him, hate him? Could she live happily with him? Did she even care? Oh, she agreed with his ideals and morals readily, blood was too important an issue to treat lightly, but those things in common meant nothing.
The door creaked open noisily, and she saw the shape of him framed by the light from the hall. “Lumos” he spoke to the darkness and the light from his wand blinded her.
Orion Black was a handsome man there was no denying it. She was sure she could be attracted to him, after all, who couldn’t? Tonight though, she was too nervous, apprehensive about her future, about this night, about the rest of their lives together.
He smiled coldly at her and she shivered as his cool grey eyes stripped her bare with the icy gaze. He walked towards her purposefully, and that was when she knew.
Walburga Black would have no love in her marriage.
~~~~~~ 1959 ~~~~~~
She became pregnant almost immediately, much to her relief, and she hoped every second of her confinement that she would have a son. Perhaps then he would leave her alone, stop visiting her in the cold hours of the night, thrusting into her with little or no warning, hard, fast and brutal. There were no words or soft touches, nothing that spoke of affection and intimacy. All she could hope for was the peace that an heir could bring.
She knew he had sex with other women. He did not make an effort to hide it, and if she was being honest with herself, she knew that she did not care. All the better for her if he would cease his late night visits. But he never did, he came to her every week like clockwork before she fell pregnant. Perhaps it would change after their son was born.
Walburga looked forward to the event, more in the hopes that peace would follow the birth than anticipation of the child itself. She had never wanted to be a mother, was not terribly fond of children, but if this was the price she paid to be left to herself, she would pay it fully.
~~~~~~ 1960 ~~~~~~
Motherhood had not changed the routine. She had borne him a son and heir, and beautiful child that he was; she could not love her son on his own merits. His birth was tainted with the knowledge that things between her and her husband had not changed. Orion continued to come to her in the night, beginning his visits again exactly three months after the birth of Sirius.
They were more horrible than before, she was sore, stretched and tighter at the same time, with less natural moisture, the attractiveness of her husbands face and body did not move her. Handsome or not, he was cold and distant; even cruel and she could not love him.
He would slip into her bed at night, and without waking her, he would drive into her. Back or front made no difference to him, nor did it to her. The pain was the same. Body and soul he assaulted her, time and again, her sanity thrust from her as he filled her, as if there was no room for them both in the same body.
She was thrilled when she fell pregnant again, a year later, although it meant another child to care for, a prospect she did not relish, it also meant respite from his attentions, cruel as they were.
~~~~~~ 1961 ~~~~~~
The birth of Regulus was much more pleasant for her. After delivering a second son, Orion discontinued his nightly visits, leaving her in peace for the first time since their marriage begun. He was hard on the boys, and her, yet she was happier now than she had been since her wedding day.
Her affection for Sirius increased as the time flew by, but he never entered her heart in the same way as her second son. Sirius was not enough to stop her anguish, but Regulus had accomplished what she had most desired.
Orion stayed away for years, and although she knew he visited other women regularly, she did not care. Anything to keep him away. She did not require fidelity from her husband; indifference was all she would ask of him.
~~~~~~1971~~~~~~
Then time came for Sirius to leave for school, then a year later, her precious Regulus followed him and she found herself at odds suddenly, with nothing to fill her days and distract her from the cold loneliness of the House of Black. Her only real companion was her house elf, and sorry company that he was it was certain he was devoted to her. Such affection was the only solace she could find. In her bleak existence, there were only small rays of light. Kreacher’s devotion was a small one. Holidays were filled with Sirius and Regulus, and it helped to fill the void.
Not all was well of course. Sirius had been sorted into Gryffindor; Orion’s disgust was palpable when the two were in the same room. No matter how her husband beat their son, or how cold he was to his heir, nothing shook Sirius’ refusal to deny his friends, the house of red and gold, blood traitors and Mudbloods. Walburga agreed with Orion on that point, Sirius was a disgrace. What affection she had found in herself for him had faded with every year that had passed, every holiday he choose to spend with his friends instead of at home, every time he refused to conduct himself in a manner suitable to the Heir of the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black. She focused her affections on Regulus. Sirius was beneath her notice.
Regulus was her joy. The boy had accepted what was expected of him. He was sorted into Slytherin, proving himself a true Black. He behaved like the heir to their noble house, picking up the slack left by his brother. He treated his mother with devotion and his father with deference. Regulus was the good son.
Soon even that was not enough. Several years after both boys were at school, Orion began visiting her again. First, it was only in the nights, as before, and she couldn’t help but feel that it was her punishment for Sirius’ behaviour. As if by birthing such a rebellious son she had failed him, failed in the one task that was required of her. Although she was unhinged by this renewal, she found she could cope; after all, it was no worse than before.
~~~~~~ 1976 ~~~~~~
That summer was bright and sunny, the weather at odds with the mood in the wizarding world. Voldemort had stepped up to demand the destruction of those with mixed blood, proving he was not afraid to act. Muggle and wizard deaths were becoming more common, and the House of Black could not deny that this was a good thing.
Things with Sirius were also coming to a head. His absolute refusal to detach himself from his friends infuriated Orion. When Voldemort took over Sirius would be destroyed, along with his friends, they were the filth of wizard kind and Sirius has lowered himself to befriend them. He had made his own bed.
Early in the summer, it all came apart. Orion once again demanded that Sirius renounce his friends and join Voldemort. There was no need for him to return to school, no need for him to be subjected to the teachings of Albus Dumbledore, himself a blood traitor, Mudblood lover that he was. The ultimatum was given. Join Voldemort, become a proper Black or leave. Live up to his name or be disgraced, disowned. Sirius stood up, shot loathing looks at both his parents and left.
Walburga never saw her firstborn again during her life, but his disgrace did not cease to cause her pain. She did not miss him, no, but she was punished for his defection just the same.
One day shortly after Regulus had returned to school, Orion found her in the drawing room, instructing Kreacher on how to best clean the sconces. He smiled coldly at her, his eyes transferring the ice to her flesh and she knew what he wanted. He turned her roughly, leaning her over her writing table and pushing her skirts hastily out of the way before thrusting into her dry channel, tearing her apart from the inside out as she tried desperately to hang on to her sanity. Finally, he was finished and he withdrew, leaving the room, immediately she slid to the floor, her world spinning and crashing around her in waves. A small hand entered the destruction and pulled her until she allowed it to lead her to the bathroom, where the only witness to her torture cleaned her, his small hands gentle on her abused flesh.
Every day was grey after that, if the sun was shining or no. Her husband began to use her more frequently, caring not about the silent witness of Kreacher, and the elf was her only solace after her husband had left her again, her body sore and bleeding, her mind in tatters. His assaults ceased only when Regulus was home, and then only in the days, the nights as black as his name, and ceaselessly long.
~~~~~~ 1977 ~~~~~~
When Regulus joined Voldemort, she felt the last vestiges of her sanity teetering on the edge in stark juxtaposition to the renewed swelling of her heart. She was hovering over the chasm of blackness that she knew now awaited her. Here was the one thing she had managed to do right. Her only son, her beloved boy Regulus, pride of both his parents had allied himself with the proper side. Yet everyday she feared he would be killed and she would have nothing, nothing but the now daily assaults from her husband and the affection of a lowly house elf.
Yet, she was mildly happy again. Regulus’ conduct had overshadowed her disappointment in her oldest. The blackness receded for a time.
~~~~~~ 1979 ~~~~~~
When Regulus was murdered, she slid into the pit, body and mind, she was alone now, so alone now, and her sanity fled her as well as her offspring. She wandered the house, followed by Kreacher; raving at her life and her husband, for they who had dealt her this cruel hand could never rest in the peace that she had been denied. Her mind had succumbed at last, and she threw herself into madness wholeheartedly. There was no going back, to starting over. There was only one more step to take.
Walburga sat in the dark of her bedchamber, the small dagger clutched tightly in her hand, for she knew he was coming. She waited to end it all, end the life of misery that begun on a night much like this, in the same darkened room where she now sat.
She would suffer no more in silence, her body was broken, her mind in shreds, but she would keep her soul. She would not allow him to take it. She would kill him before he could.
The door creaked open and the light from the hall spilled into the room, reflecting off the blade in her hand as she set out to destroy the ice in his eyes forever.
Let me know if you like it/hate it, whatever. Oh and if there's anywhere else they might like it posted...concrit helps me to write better.
I decided it was ready now...I can't think to make it better, I wanted it to be less wordy, but I don't have the talent of using few words to make a big point like some do. I tend to be verbose...umm, yeah...like I am now. So here is is, posted long before I thought it would be, but that's okay becasue I want to try my hand at my R/S that's in progress, plus I will have to grab my slingshot and hunt down another bunny.
Title: As his Name
Author: aquila_star
Rating: hard R I think, ratings don't like me.
Word Count: Ironically, 1979 Freaky deaky.
Pairing: wait for it...Orion and Walburga Black. Okay, you can hit me now. (squickfic right??)
Warnings: Okay, a first for me. Dub/non con...bordering on rape, not sure how others might view it. Voyeuristic house elf, implied squickys there too. Implied character death. General squickyness.
Disclaimer: Don't hate me cause I write squickfic. Okay usually I don't! Blame flamewarrior for the challange makes the bunny don't you know!!
~~~~~~1958 ~~~~~~
Walburga sat silently in the dark room, waiting, waiting for the life she didn’t want to begin. He would be coming to her soon, her new husband. Arranged marriages being what they are, deals struck purely for money or the perpetuation of a pureblood line, she had not known any more about her husband than his name and face, glimpsed a few times at parties, before she stood up to marry him. She had no idea what to expect. Would she come to love him, hate him? Could she live happily with him? Did she even care? Oh, she agreed with his ideals and morals readily, blood was too important an issue to treat lightly, but those things in common meant nothing.
The door creaked open noisily, and she saw the shape of him framed by the light from the hall. “Lumos” he spoke to the darkness and the light from his wand blinded her.
Orion Black was a handsome man there was no denying it. She was sure she could be attracted to him, after all, who couldn’t? Tonight though, she was too nervous, apprehensive about her future, about this night, about the rest of their lives together.
He smiled coldly at her and she shivered as his cool grey eyes stripped her bare with the icy gaze. He walked towards her purposefully, and that was when she knew.
Walburga Black would have no love in her marriage.
~~~~~~ 1959 ~~~~~~
She became pregnant almost immediately, much to her relief, and she hoped every second of her confinement that she would have a son. Perhaps then he would leave her alone, stop visiting her in the cold hours of the night, thrusting into her with little or no warning, hard, fast and brutal. There were no words or soft touches, nothing that spoke of affection and intimacy. All she could hope for was the peace that an heir could bring.
She knew he had sex with other women. He did not make an effort to hide it, and if she was being honest with herself, she knew that she did not care. All the better for her if he would cease his late night visits. But he never did, he came to her every week like clockwork before she fell pregnant. Perhaps it would change after their son was born.
Walburga looked forward to the event, more in the hopes that peace would follow the birth than anticipation of the child itself. She had never wanted to be a mother, was not terribly fond of children, but if this was the price she paid to be left to herself, she would pay it fully.
~~~~~~ 1960 ~~~~~~
Motherhood had not changed the routine. She had borne him a son and heir, and beautiful child that he was; she could not love her son on his own merits. His birth was tainted with the knowledge that things between her and her husband had not changed. Orion continued to come to her in the night, beginning his visits again exactly three months after the birth of Sirius.
They were more horrible than before, she was sore, stretched and tighter at the same time, with less natural moisture, the attractiveness of her husbands face and body did not move her. Handsome or not, he was cold and distant; even cruel and she could not love him.
He would slip into her bed at night, and without waking her, he would drive into her. Back or front made no difference to him, nor did it to her. The pain was the same. Body and soul he assaulted her, time and again, her sanity thrust from her as he filled her, as if there was no room for them both in the same body.
She was thrilled when she fell pregnant again, a year later, although it meant another child to care for, a prospect she did not relish, it also meant respite from his attentions, cruel as they were.
~~~~~~ 1961 ~~~~~~
The birth of Regulus was much more pleasant for her. After delivering a second son, Orion discontinued his nightly visits, leaving her in peace for the first time since their marriage begun. He was hard on the boys, and her, yet she was happier now than she had been since her wedding day.
Her affection for Sirius increased as the time flew by, but he never entered her heart in the same way as her second son. Sirius was not enough to stop her anguish, but Regulus had accomplished what she had most desired.
Orion stayed away for years, and although she knew he visited other women regularly, she did not care. Anything to keep him away. She did not require fidelity from her husband; indifference was all she would ask of him.
~~~~~~1971~~~~~~
Then time came for Sirius to leave for school, then a year later, her precious Regulus followed him and she found herself at odds suddenly, with nothing to fill her days and distract her from the cold loneliness of the House of Black. Her only real companion was her house elf, and sorry company that he was it was certain he was devoted to her. Such affection was the only solace she could find. In her bleak existence, there were only small rays of light. Kreacher’s devotion was a small one. Holidays were filled with Sirius and Regulus, and it helped to fill the void.
Not all was well of course. Sirius had been sorted into Gryffindor; Orion’s disgust was palpable when the two were in the same room. No matter how her husband beat their son, or how cold he was to his heir, nothing shook Sirius’ refusal to deny his friends, the house of red and gold, blood traitors and Mudbloods. Walburga agreed with Orion on that point, Sirius was a disgrace. What affection she had found in herself for him had faded with every year that had passed, every holiday he choose to spend with his friends instead of at home, every time he refused to conduct himself in a manner suitable to the Heir of the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black. She focused her affections on Regulus. Sirius was beneath her notice.
Regulus was her joy. The boy had accepted what was expected of him. He was sorted into Slytherin, proving himself a true Black. He behaved like the heir to their noble house, picking up the slack left by his brother. He treated his mother with devotion and his father with deference. Regulus was the good son.
Soon even that was not enough. Several years after both boys were at school, Orion began visiting her again. First, it was only in the nights, as before, and she couldn’t help but feel that it was her punishment for Sirius’ behaviour. As if by birthing such a rebellious son she had failed him, failed in the one task that was required of her. Although she was unhinged by this renewal, she found she could cope; after all, it was no worse than before.
~~~~~~ 1976 ~~~~~~
That summer was bright and sunny, the weather at odds with the mood in the wizarding world. Voldemort had stepped up to demand the destruction of those with mixed blood, proving he was not afraid to act. Muggle and wizard deaths were becoming more common, and the House of Black could not deny that this was a good thing.
Things with Sirius were also coming to a head. His absolute refusal to detach himself from his friends infuriated Orion. When Voldemort took over Sirius would be destroyed, along with his friends, they were the filth of wizard kind and Sirius has lowered himself to befriend them. He had made his own bed.
Early in the summer, it all came apart. Orion once again demanded that Sirius renounce his friends and join Voldemort. There was no need for him to return to school, no need for him to be subjected to the teachings of Albus Dumbledore, himself a blood traitor, Mudblood lover that he was. The ultimatum was given. Join Voldemort, become a proper Black or leave. Live up to his name or be disgraced, disowned. Sirius stood up, shot loathing looks at both his parents and left.
Walburga never saw her firstborn again during her life, but his disgrace did not cease to cause her pain. She did not miss him, no, but she was punished for his defection just the same.
One day shortly after Regulus had returned to school, Orion found her in the drawing room, instructing Kreacher on how to best clean the sconces. He smiled coldly at her, his eyes transferring the ice to her flesh and she knew what he wanted. He turned her roughly, leaning her over her writing table and pushing her skirts hastily out of the way before thrusting into her dry channel, tearing her apart from the inside out as she tried desperately to hang on to her sanity. Finally, he was finished and he withdrew, leaving the room, immediately she slid to the floor, her world spinning and crashing around her in waves. A small hand entered the destruction and pulled her until she allowed it to lead her to the bathroom, where the only witness to her torture cleaned her, his small hands gentle on her abused flesh.
Every day was grey after that, if the sun was shining or no. Her husband began to use her more frequently, caring not about the silent witness of Kreacher, and the elf was her only solace after her husband had left her again, her body sore and bleeding, her mind in tatters. His assaults ceased only when Regulus was home, and then only in the days, the nights as black as his name, and ceaselessly long.
~~~~~~ 1977 ~~~~~~
When Regulus joined Voldemort, she felt the last vestiges of her sanity teetering on the edge in stark juxtaposition to the renewed swelling of her heart. She was hovering over the chasm of blackness that she knew now awaited her. Here was the one thing she had managed to do right. Her only son, her beloved boy Regulus, pride of both his parents had allied himself with the proper side. Yet everyday she feared he would be killed and she would have nothing, nothing but the now daily assaults from her husband and the affection of a lowly house elf.
Yet, she was mildly happy again. Regulus’ conduct had overshadowed her disappointment in her oldest. The blackness receded for a time.
~~~~~~ 1979 ~~~~~~
When Regulus was murdered, she slid into the pit, body and mind, she was alone now, so alone now, and her sanity fled her as well as her offspring. She wandered the house, followed by Kreacher; raving at her life and her husband, for they who had dealt her this cruel hand could never rest in the peace that she had been denied. Her mind had succumbed at last, and she threw herself into madness wholeheartedly. There was no going back, to starting over. There was only one more step to take.
Walburga sat in the dark of her bedchamber, the small dagger clutched tightly in her hand, for she knew he was coming. She waited to end it all, end the life of misery that begun on a night much like this, in the same darkened room where she now sat.
She would suffer no more in silence, her body was broken, her mind in shreds, but she would keep her soul. She would not allow him to take it. She would kill him before he could.
The door creaked open and the light from the hall spilled into the room, reflecting off the blade in her hand as she set out to destroy the ice in his eyes forever.
Let me know if you like it/hate it, whatever. Oh and if there's anywhere else they might like it posted...concrit helps me to write better.