As Savage As Love, 10/13. NC-17.
Title: As Savage As Love
Author: Eustacia Vye
Author's e-mail: eustacia_vye28@hotmail.com
Rating: NC-17 for all kinds of bad and wrong and not for children.
Pairing: Katie Bell/Marcus Flint.
Disclaimer: They originally belonged to JKR. I nicked her toys without permission. I sincerely doubt she'd like what I'm doing with them anyway...
Spoilers/Warnings: This begins during DH (minus the Epilogue of Doom). It starts off slow and then rolls on downhill from there: Physical violence, sexual violence, all flavors of con (non con, dub con, coercion, actual con) and mindfuckery in general. It's unrepentant Death Eater!Marcus and captured spy!Katie. You have been duly warned...
Summary: Katie Bell thought sneaking back into England from exile would allow her to help the Resistance more easily. She never thought it would help her disappear into the very clutches of the enemy she wanted to fight.
February slid past in a blur, and March began as cold and dreary as February had. Marcus fell into a routine of sorts. He spent his days working for his father and dodging Aurelius' temper. His evenings were spent on patrol at Diagon Alley, Hogsmeade or one of the Death Eaters' homes that was under surveillance by Order members. Sometimes he managed to attack an Order member, sometimes he even killed one. He managed to avoid permanent damage from their return fire, though he now had a thick burn scar across the back of his left hand. He checked in on Katie every day, and she had been discomfited by the sight of the scar on his hand. She had sat there beside him on the bed, his hand clasped tightly in her lap as he told her about the fight. She didn't ask which Order member he fought, didn't ask who he had killed.
He had told Apple months ago to keep track of her health status and monthly cycle so he could avoid actual intercourse when she was most likely to be fertile. Still, he must have made a mistake. Apple found him getting ready for dinner after a particularly excruciating discussion about the family finances with his father, wringing her hands even more than usual. "What is it?" Marcus snapped at her.
"Master told Apple to watch the girl." Apple bowed low in front of him, and he was tempted to kick her to make her get on with it. "There might be new life."
Marcus stilled as he was getting dressed. "What?"
"The girl feels different to Apple," the house elf warbled fearfully. "It just started today, and isn't changing. Master wanted to know..."
Marcus pressed his lips together in a thin line. Well, then. This was going to happen sooner than he had planned. Just as well; his father was starting to get vocal about finding him a wife again, and Marcus had no intention of wedding or even bedding any of his father's candidates for an acceptable daughter-in-law.
He went on the offensive over dinner. "I've given thought to the next generation, and I've made my choice of bride," he said without preamble.
"Oh? And which chit is it?" Aurelius asked, leaning back in his chair to look at his son closely.
"Katie Bell."
Aurelius frowned. "Not one of the girls I've been looking into for you."
"Pureblooded and not long out of Hogwarts. Not to mention that she can be trained," Marcus replied with a shrug. "That's all that's important."
Aurelius narrowed his eyes at Marcus. "You're not telling me something."
His shrug had probably been entirely too careless. "She's possibly already pregnant with my child. The wedding should take place in the next few weeks to avoid suspicion. We could always vacation in the tropics over Easter."
The dining room was quiet. Finally, Aurelius put his silverware down with a quiet clink against the china. He stared evenly at his son, jaw clenched tight in anger. "And when did you get the opportunity to do this, Marcus?" he asked, voice soft but dangerous. When did you defy me? was the real question.
"I've been molding her for some time," Marcus replied, putting down his knife and fork. No point in lying any longer. Aurelius looked ready to simply stab him with his dinner knife and just be done with it.
"Is this where you've been disappearing off to? Dallying with some chit I don't approve of?"
Marcus tightened his jaw at his father's deceptively soft tone. He had to tread carefully, though he fully expected to be cursed at some point for this. "I've been taking care of a lot of things, Father. I don't check in with you at all times."
"Clearly, you need to," Aurelius responded coldly. "If this is what you do with the freedom I've allowed you, then I've trusted you far too much." He picked up his knife and fork, lips set in a firm line. "Where is she, then? Is she difficult to get rid of?"
Hands clenched into fists in his lap, Marcus grit his teeth. "I won't get rid of her. And I won't have my firstborn birthed as a bastard."
"You should have thought of this before dallying with someone inappropriate," Aurelius hissed. "There's nothing to her name, no family alliance you can make. Everything we've worked so hard for, you've just thrown away. For what? A smile and a flash of leg?" Aurelius curled his lip in distaste at his son. "Weakness will not be tolerated."
"She's Pure. I can send the invitations out without your consent, Father. If I have to."
Aurelius stared at his son, at the stubborn set to his jaw. It looked entirely too much like his own in the board room. Marcus was going to be unreasonable about this. "You need more than blood in a suitable wife, Marcus. Think. She's after your fortune. How much do you think it will take to buy her off and go away?" Aurelius snapped. "She has no name, no money, no business being married to a Flint."
"She has no idea how much I'm worth. It's not what concerns her," Marcus replied thinly.
"You fancy yourself in love like an idiot schoolboy?" Aurelius asked with a snide tone. "Hah. That'll fade in days. She's like every other slut willing to spread her legs for a few galleons. Trust me on this, the only thing worth having is a woman that knows her place and has a price worth putting up with the lies."
"I said she could be trained," Marcus replied, more steel in his tone than he thought he'd show his father. "I've been working on her for months."
It suddenly clicked for Aurelius. "This was that spy from the summer. The one you said you were taking care of." He took in his son's surly silence and the silverware dropped from his hands abruptly. "You imbecile!" he roared. "You put everything at risk to fuck a girl working with the Order?"
Put that way, it made no sense whatsoever, but Marcus wasn't about to admit that. "She knows nothing. They used her. It will be a blow to have turned one of their own to our side."
Aurelius snorted. "That's the talk of a self indulgent fool. I'll not have that in my home."
"We don't have to live here. I've properties in my own right."
The threat hung between them for a moment, and Aurelius drummed his fingers on the table top as he contemplated his son. He had wondered when his son would push against his restrictions, and never thought it would be over a girl. He had thought it would be to advance either in the shipping company or within the Death Eater ranks. That would have been acceptable. But for his son to break ranks over a girl? That stung.
"Well, you've thought about this, I see." Aurelius looked at his son as if for the first time. The stubborn set to his square jaw was his, but that fierce look in Marcus' eyes wasn't. He thought he had burned out the last of the insolence, but apparently not. "So what are your plans?"
"You've been after me to find a suitable wife. Katie has the proper bloodlines and she's already with child. There won't be any problems having enough grandchildren."
More than one. As far as Aurelius was concerned, Marcus was besotted and an idiot.
Marcus continued when Aurelius remained silent. "She'll be installed here, of course, and won't have any contact with her old associates. She'll only be exposed to the proper sort, and won't have anything of consequence to do with the family affairs. I'll still handle them as I've been doing already. I will still have my duties to our Lord. She won't interfere."
Aurelius didn't know when Marcus had become a romantic idealist, and he let his lips curl into a derisive look. "That simple?"
"It's not difficult to impregnate a wife," Marcus snapped.
"It will be difficult to control a wife not allied with you," Aurelius snarled at his son. "Even ones that are allied with you can still be traitorous whores."
Your father is not always right, his mother had said only days before she died.
"I will bind her by contract," Marcus replied, voice tight. "It will be stronger than any alliance you could forge with a society girl."
"You are a bigger fool than I thought if you truly believe that will work," Aurelius said. He pushed himself from the dinner table, his mouth twisted in distaste. He stared heavily at his son, his wand hand itching to have the boy under Cruciatus until he recanted this sorry story. But he had the feeling that Marcus would likely go insane instead, too stubborn to take it back and submit to his will. He had only one son, only one chance to carry on the family line. He was too old to start again and deal with a screaming infant.
"I'll send the invitations out tonight," Marcus told his father when he continued to be silent.
"This will fail," his father told him, voice tight with disapproval. "When that happens..."
"If that happens," Marcus interrupted, "I'll kill her myself."
Aurelius snorted in disbelief and left the room before the urge to beat Marcus into a bloody pulp became overpowering. He hadn't been entirely sure he'd impregnated the chit, and Aurelius still needed grandchildren.
Marcus watched his father leave and let out a slow breath. Convincing Katie to sign the contract he had been preparing would be much easier than this.
***
Marcus didn't make any waves with his invitations, and he collected the replies. The wedding was set for Easter Sunday, ordinarily a time for renewal. It seemed a fitting date, and still gave enough time to make it look like a planned event rather than a last minute scramble. His father could barely stand the sight of him, so Marcus handled all of the arrangements with the house elves' help. It was going to be a fairly simple ceremony and reception, and he was planning an extended honeymoon after the reception. It would give Katie time to grow accustomed to her position as his wife, to what was expected of her as a Death Eater's wife. He expected to be back at the Manor by late summer or early autumn, by which time a child would definitely be growing within her.
All that was left was Katie's acceptance of his plan.
He found her taking a nap, curled up in bed beneath the covers. He stroked her hair, sitting beside her on the bed. She was wearing a loose nightgown when he pulled the covers back, and he lifted it up above her hips. He tossed the knickers elsewhere, and began stroking her folds with one hand and the nipple of one breast with his other. She stirred, making a soft moan of pleasure. Katie woke as he pumped his fingers inside of her, back arched and gasping for breath. She came, but he kept going through her orgasm, thumb sliding across her clit and two fingers crooked inside of her. Katie gasped and writhed beneath him, moaning his name.
Marcus didn't bother to undress all the way. He lifted one of her legs and left the other splayed to the side. Keeping hold of her raised leg with one hand, Marcus slid into her and kept her hips propped up with the other. Katie gasped at the feel of him deep inside of her and grasped at his thighs to pull him closer. "Fuck, you feel good," he grunted, feeling her inner walls flutter around his cock invitingly. Katie bit her lip and arched her back, her head pressed back into the pillow beneath her. She moaned, fingers digging into his thighs tightly. She came again, tightening around him, and Marcus growled at the sensation. Another few thrusts and he came as well, leaning heavily into her.
"What's this about?" Katie asked once she could catch her breath.
He simply smiled at her and disentangled himself from her. "Nothing special. Just wanted to see you before I headed out to do some paperwork."
Katie propped herself up on her elbows as he straightened out his clothing. "Oh? Are you going to be away for a long time?"
Marcus caught hold of the back of her neck and pulled her in for a kiss. "Hopefully not." He dropped another kiss onto her forehead. "I'll see you later."
She frowned as she watched him leave. It didn't register at first, but she didn't hear the door to the cell click shut. Katie cautiously cleaned herself up and then dressed in the clothes that Apple had left out for her. She rubbed her hands along the back of the skirt she was wearing; they suddenly felt clammy and cold. She cautiously pushed at the door to the cell, not believing what she was seeing when it moved. After a moment, when nothing happened, she slipped through the door. The hallway had the same stone as the cell, the same dim lighting overhead. "Marcus?" she called hesitantly.
Katie shivered and wrapped her arms around herself as she stepped from the cell. She looked back for a moment, not sure what she should do. While she didn't enjoy the idea of being locked away, at least she knew what to expect there. She didn't know where she was in Flint Manor, didn't know how heavily guarded it would be or even how to get out. She pressed her lips together and took a deep breath. She could figure this out.
It felt like she was being watched, but she progressed down the hallway. After a few feet, a rank stench rose up, and she had to pull her shirt up over her mouth and nose to try and block some of it out. She looked at the doors on either side of the hallway, not sure where the smell was coming from. It was a combination of mildew, blood, shit and decay, and Katie couldn't figure out why it seemed to cling to the walls heavily. Some of the doors had barred windows over them, and Katie stood of tiptoe to try to look into them. In one room, she though she could see a body lying on the floor, dark hair spread out around the head.
The door opened easily, and Katie made sure to wedge it open, just in case it locked as soon as it was shut. "Hello? Are you all right?" she called out. "I won't hurt you."
The figure on the floor was silent, and the cell was even darker than the hallway or her cell had been. Uneasily, Katie stepped forward. The floor was rough and uneven, with dark stains here and there. "Are you all right?" she rasped, feeling nervous.
Katie choked back a scream when she looked at the figure up close. It had been a girl once, with long dark hair. Her eyes were ripped out of her head, and her lower jaw was missing. The ragged edges of the wounds looked like bite marks, and the rest of the face was covered in deep gouges and bites in varying stages of decay. The girl's throat had been ripped out, and she had been disemboweled. Her hands and feet were cut off, the tendons pinned to the stone floor.
Katie staggered backward, unable to breathe, her eyes watering. She looked around the room in a panic, and could see other vague shapes in the corner. She could hear a soft whining sound, and dimly realized she was the one making the horrified noises.
All at once she was pushed up against the wall. The breath was knocked out of her, and her arms were wrenched from her side to be shackled. Katie could feel something damp slide into her hair, could hear the squish of it against her back. She let out a choked sob, looking around her in a panic. It was as if the shadows around her were shifting.
A hand closed around her throat heavily, and it felt almost familiar. The shadows coalesced into Marcus' stony face as he stared down at her.
Katie began to sob openly, unable to tear her eyes away from his. She couldn't say anything; the horror of finding the dead girl was too terrible to even contemplate. "She's dead," she finally was able to say between wracking sobs.
"Had been for months," Marcus agreed evenly.
If anything, the quiet tone of voice was even more horrifying, and she shivered. "How could..."
His hand tightened a fraction. "I didn't. These are my father's cells."
My father would wonder why I hadn't killed you yet, Marcus had told her. She hadn't really believed it at the time. Katie sobbed, succumbing to the terror that had been building up within her. She looked at him plaintively, feeling completely helpless.
Marcus took his hand away from her throat. He watched her cry, feeling his insides twist into knots. "These are my father's cells," he repeated slowly. "This is what he does to muggles, to muggle lovers and blood traitors. I am not the same as him." He brushed the tears from her cheeks. "Do you think I'd hurt you this way?"
She wanted to say that he used to, but he hadn't been as vicious as this. He hadn't left her to die, hadn't done such horrible things to her. He had been controlled and calculated when torturing her physically. Even when impulsive, Marcus had raped her but hadn't threatened to kill her. Her lips trembled as she looked at him, not sure what she should say in response.
Marcus could see her confusion, the hesitancy in her. "Katie, do you really think I'll do such horrid things to you?" he asked again. She shook her head, still looking terrified. "This is what happens out there," he told her, enunciating carefully so that she understood him even though her shock. "This is what can happen."
Her lips trembled and she blinked back tears while looking at him. "What happens now?" she rasped, her voice breaking.
Marcus opened the shackles and lowered her to the floor. "You're coming with me, Katie."
The tears continued at the sound of his voice, quiet and without intonation. She wanted to ask him what he meant when he grasped her wrist, pulling her out of the cell. Her breath hitched in her chest and she hiccupped as she passed by the dead girl's body, trying to keep from screaming at the sight. How could they just leave her there to rot? How could they do that? She wanted to pull away, to scream at Marcus, to figure out how she could get away from all this pain and death.
Katie lost track of the hallways and stairwells, until Marcus pushed her into a large, airy bedroom. It was easily twice the size of her childhood bedroom, done in light creamy colors with large glass windows and so much daylight that she was dizzy. She was hyperventilating, stepping backward and away from those windows, crashing into Marcus. He held her arms to steady her, and whatever muck was in her hair and on her clothes smeared across his chest. She was shaking so hard her teeth chattered, and Marcus spun her about to look at him.
"Katie?" he murmured, hands tight on her arms. "Are you all right?" She shook her head, blinking quickly to keep from sobbing again. "What's wrong?"
"It's so bright," she whimpered, shaking her head.
Marcus pulled her outside of the room and into the next one. The room was just as large, but the furniture was dark mahogany, the drapes were mostly drawn and everything in the room was a bit darker and more dramatic, all dark greens and blues. It was his bedroom, and connected to the other one by the bathroom. He had thought it would be an easier adjustment for her, but apparently was wrong. He sat her down at his desk and hovered next to her almost anxiously. There was a folder on the desk, closed, and a quill beside it, but Katie didn't seem to notice any of it. "Katie," he said, voice soft. "Are you all right?"
"What's going on?" she asked, her voice cracking, her hands clenched tightly in her lap. "I don't understand," she said, her voice rising until it was almost a wail.
Marcus opened the folder in front of her. "Read this, Katie."
With shaking fingers, she took up the sheets of parchment and read them. She came back to the beginning in shock and looked up at him incredulously. "Five years married to you?"
"Forever if we have children," he said, not about to tell her about the child that was even now trying to make a home in her womb. It was far too early for her to feel changes in her body.
Her lips trembled and she couldn't seem to put together coherent thoughts. "Why?"
Marcus let his hand slide down the front of her shirt to cup a breast, his thumb brushing over the nipple. She shivered under his touch. "Do you need to ask?"
Katie blinked back tears. She couldn't help but think of the dead girl, and wondered what would happen if she didn't sign this document. It was binding, with terms and conditions and esoteric rules that would govern her for the entire course of its duration. She could hardly breathe through her panic, and he was hovering too closely, setting off all of her nerves. She was making soft whimpering sounds of fear, and she bit her lip in shame.
"You don't have to sign it," Marcus told her gently, letting his hand fall from her breast into her lap. "I can always bring you back downstairs."
The whining sound grew louder, and Katie was aware that she was close to screaming. She was shaking so hard that she wondered why she was even still in the chair.
"Your cell is right where we left it," he continued in that same gentle tone. "I can bring you right back there and tuck you back into bed. This will all be a horrid dream."
She was stuttering, not sure what she was trying to say. But she couldn't go down there, couldn't return to the cell. She couldn't bear knowing about the dead girl so close to her, couldn't bear to think about the possibility of more dead girls in the other cells she hadn't checked. Katie pushed back from the desk violently, and ran from Marcus. He stood there, brows knit as he watched her. She hadn't run toward the door, hadn't made any moves toward his sleeve where his wand was kept. He even had her wand tucked into his shirt; he had retrieved it while he had been waiting for her under a disillusionment charm in the hallway.
Katie had run to the window, her hand clenched in the drape as she twitched it aside. She made a soft choking sound as she looked out of the window. "How long was I gone?" she rasped.
"It's mid-March now," Marcus told her. She was pale and shivering, teeth nearly chattering. She was in shock, and he hadn't thought she would react this badly. "I've had you since July."
She remembered July, remembered the Burrow and the twins and the plans they had made as if it had all been so simple. She felt the hot tears on her cheeks, and wiped at them hastily. "March," she whispered, still looking out of the window. She was facing a garden that seemed to just realize it was becoming spring. Katie turned to him with a mournful expression. "I've lost so much," she moaned. "I can't get that back."
"No, you can't," he agreed in a soft tone. "But you can begin again."
"As your personal whore?" she asked, voice breaking. She flinched at the way his jaw tightened, how unhappy he seemed by that.
"The terms are more than fair."
They would be married for five years unless she had a child; throughout that time she would be looked after and cared for, would lack for nothing. She knew she wasn't being fair. The contract said nothing about the origins of their relationship, said nothing about terms that would condemn her back to the dungeons. There was a vague section regarding disagreements that would be resolved as the situation saw fit, and a section regarding the possibility of adding further terms if they were both agreed upon. Katie wrapped her arms around herself and looked at him in distress. "So I sign that and marry you or I get locked away again?" she rasped.
She watched as Marcus approached her. He towered over her, and she felt small and helpless in front of him. She flinched as he touched her cheek, brushing at the damp spots. "It's your choice." His voice was soft, almost deceptively lulling.
"It isn't much of a choice," she replied, a shade tartly.
Marcus smiled at the sound of it. "It's still a choice. You have your own free will here."
Isolated in the lap of luxury or isolated in a cell. Not much of a choice.
Katie looked from his impassive face to the desk. "I'll sign it," she whispered in a voice she hardly recognized as her own. Marcus drew her back to the desk and had her sit down at the desk. If he had looked triumphant, she might have balked at actually signing it. But he seemed to understand that this was difficult for her, and didn't gloat at all. He signed on the line next to her signature, and she could feel the magic bind itself around her.
He laid a hand on her shoulder gently. "You can stay here with me until the wedding day. You'll have to stay next door, in that other room, for the preparations."
"Wedding," Katie echoed dumbly.
Marcus opened one of his desk drawers and removed a small ring box. He took her left hand and slid the ring there on her ring finger. She stared at it numbly, a classic diamond solitaire on a gold band. "We'll be married in a week and a half, on Easter Sunday." He held her numb hand in his, stroking the back of her hand with his thumb. She shivered at his touch, and he kissed her temple tenderly. "The contract is binding starting today."
She could feel its magic sink into her skin the moment the contract had been signed. It felt final, like something she couldn't turn back from. Katie began to cry again, and let Marcus pull her into his embrace. That was familiar, achingly so, and she didn't know what to make of it.
But she had made her choice, and now she would have to live with it.
***
***
Author: Eustacia Vye
Author's e-mail: eustacia_vye28@hotmail.com
Rating: NC-17 for all kinds of bad and wrong and not for children.
Pairing: Katie Bell/Marcus Flint.
Disclaimer: They originally belonged to JKR. I nicked her toys without permission. I sincerely doubt she'd like what I'm doing with them anyway...
Spoilers/Warnings: This begins during DH (minus the Epilogue of Doom). It starts off slow and then rolls on downhill from there: Physical violence, sexual violence, all flavors of con (non con, dub con, coercion, actual con) and mindfuckery in general. It's unrepentant Death Eater!Marcus and captured spy!Katie. You have been duly warned...
Summary: Katie Bell thought sneaking back into England from exile would allow her to help the Resistance more easily. She never thought it would help her disappear into the very clutches of the enemy she wanted to fight.
February slid past in a blur, and March began as cold and dreary as February had. Marcus fell into a routine of sorts. He spent his days working for his father and dodging Aurelius' temper. His evenings were spent on patrol at Diagon Alley, Hogsmeade or one of the Death Eaters' homes that was under surveillance by Order members. Sometimes he managed to attack an Order member, sometimes he even killed one. He managed to avoid permanent damage from their return fire, though he now had a thick burn scar across the back of his left hand. He checked in on Katie every day, and she had been discomfited by the sight of the scar on his hand. She had sat there beside him on the bed, his hand clasped tightly in her lap as he told her about the fight. She didn't ask which Order member he fought, didn't ask who he had killed.
He had told Apple months ago to keep track of her health status and monthly cycle so he could avoid actual intercourse when she was most likely to be fertile. Still, he must have made a mistake. Apple found him getting ready for dinner after a particularly excruciating discussion about the family finances with his father, wringing her hands even more than usual. "What is it?" Marcus snapped at her.
"Master told Apple to watch the girl." Apple bowed low in front of him, and he was tempted to kick her to make her get on with it. "There might be new life."
Marcus stilled as he was getting dressed. "What?"
"The girl feels different to Apple," the house elf warbled fearfully. "It just started today, and isn't changing. Master wanted to know..."
Marcus pressed his lips together in a thin line. Well, then. This was going to happen sooner than he had planned. Just as well; his father was starting to get vocal about finding him a wife again, and Marcus had no intention of wedding or even bedding any of his father's candidates for an acceptable daughter-in-law.
He went on the offensive over dinner. "I've given thought to the next generation, and I've made my choice of bride," he said without preamble.
"Oh? And which chit is it?" Aurelius asked, leaning back in his chair to look at his son closely.
"Katie Bell."
Aurelius frowned. "Not one of the girls I've been looking into for you."
"Pureblooded and not long out of Hogwarts. Not to mention that she can be trained," Marcus replied with a shrug. "That's all that's important."
Aurelius narrowed his eyes at Marcus. "You're not telling me something."
His shrug had probably been entirely too careless. "She's possibly already pregnant with my child. The wedding should take place in the next few weeks to avoid suspicion. We could always vacation in the tropics over Easter."
The dining room was quiet. Finally, Aurelius put his silverware down with a quiet clink against the china. He stared evenly at his son, jaw clenched tight in anger. "And when did you get the opportunity to do this, Marcus?" he asked, voice soft but dangerous. When did you defy me? was the real question.
"I've been molding her for some time," Marcus replied, putting down his knife and fork. No point in lying any longer. Aurelius looked ready to simply stab him with his dinner knife and just be done with it.
"Is this where you've been disappearing off to? Dallying with some chit I don't approve of?"
Marcus tightened his jaw at his father's deceptively soft tone. He had to tread carefully, though he fully expected to be cursed at some point for this. "I've been taking care of a lot of things, Father. I don't check in with you at all times."
"Clearly, you need to," Aurelius responded coldly. "If this is what you do with the freedom I've allowed you, then I've trusted you far too much." He picked up his knife and fork, lips set in a firm line. "Where is she, then? Is she difficult to get rid of?"
Hands clenched into fists in his lap, Marcus grit his teeth. "I won't get rid of her. And I won't have my firstborn birthed as a bastard."
"You should have thought of this before dallying with someone inappropriate," Aurelius hissed. "There's nothing to her name, no family alliance you can make. Everything we've worked so hard for, you've just thrown away. For what? A smile and a flash of leg?" Aurelius curled his lip in distaste at his son. "Weakness will not be tolerated."
"She's Pure. I can send the invitations out without your consent, Father. If I have to."
Aurelius stared at his son, at the stubborn set to his jaw. It looked entirely too much like his own in the board room. Marcus was going to be unreasonable about this. "You need more than blood in a suitable wife, Marcus. Think. She's after your fortune. How much do you think it will take to buy her off and go away?" Aurelius snapped. "She has no name, no money, no business being married to a Flint."
"She has no idea how much I'm worth. It's not what concerns her," Marcus replied thinly.
"You fancy yourself in love like an idiot schoolboy?" Aurelius asked with a snide tone. "Hah. That'll fade in days. She's like every other slut willing to spread her legs for a few galleons. Trust me on this, the only thing worth having is a woman that knows her place and has a price worth putting up with the lies."
"I said she could be trained," Marcus replied, more steel in his tone than he thought he'd show his father. "I've been working on her for months."
It suddenly clicked for Aurelius. "This was that spy from the summer. The one you said you were taking care of." He took in his son's surly silence and the silverware dropped from his hands abruptly. "You imbecile!" he roared. "You put everything at risk to fuck a girl working with the Order?"
Put that way, it made no sense whatsoever, but Marcus wasn't about to admit that. "She knows nothing. They used her. It will be a blow to have turned one of their own to our side."
Aurelius snorted. "That's the talk of a self indulgent fool. I'll not have that in my home."
"We don't have to live here. I've properties in my own right."
The threat hung between them for a moment, and Aurelius drummed his fingers on the table top as he contemplated his son. He had wondered when his son would push against his restrictions, and never thought it would be over a girl. He had thought it would be to advance either in the shipping company or within the Death Eater ranks. That would have been acceptable. But for his son to break ranks over a girl? That stung.
"Well, you've thought about this, I see." Aurelius looked at his son as if for the first time. The stubborn set to his square jaw was his, but that fierce look in Marcus' eyes wasn't. He thought he had burned out the last of the insolence, but apparently not. "So what are your plans?"
"You've been after me to find a suitable wife. Katie has the proper bloodlines and she's already with child. There won't be any problems having enough grandchildren."
More than one. As far as Aurelius was concerned, Marcus was besotted and an idiot.
Marcus continued when Aurelius remained silent. "She'll be installed here, of course, and won't have any contact with her old associates. She'll only be exposed to the proper sort, and won't have anything of consequence to do with the family affairs. I'll still handle them as I've been doing already. I will still have my duties to our Lord. She won't interfere."
Aurelius didn't know when Marcus had become a romantic idealist, and he let his lips curl into a derisive look. "That simple?"
"It's not difficult to impregnate a wife," Marcus snapped.
"It will be difficult to control a wife not allied with you," Aurelius snarled at his son. "Even ones that are allied with you can still be traitorous whores."
Your father is not always right, his mother had said only days before she died.
"I will bind her by contract," Marcus replied, voice tight. "It will be stronger than any alliance you could forge with a society girl."
"You are a bigger fool than I thought if you truly believe that will work," Aurelius said. He pushed himself from the dinner table, his mouth twisted in distaste. He stared heavily at his son, his wand hand itching to have the boy under Cruciatus until he recanted this sorry story. But he had the feeling that Marcus would likely go insane instead, too stubborn to take it back and submit to his will. He had only one son, only one chance to carry on the family line. He was too old to start again and deal with a screaming infant.
"I'll send the invitations out tonight," Marcus told his father when he continued to be silent.
"This will fail," his father told him, voice tight with disapproval. "When that happens..."
"If that happens," Marcus interrupted, "I'll kill her myself."
Aurelius snorted in disbelief and left the room before the urge to beat Marcus into a bloody pulp became overpowering. He hadn't been entirely sure he'd impregnated the chit, and Aurelius still needed grandchildren.
Marcus watched his father leave and let out a slow breath. Convincing Katie to sign the contract he had been preparing would be much easier than this.
***
Marcus didn't make any waves with his invitations, and he collected the replies. The wedding was set for Easter Sunday, ordinarily a time for renewal. It seemed a fitting date, and still gave enough time to make it look like a planned event rather than a last minute scramble. His father could barely stand the sight of him, so Marcus handled all of the arrangements with the house elves' help. It was going to be a fairly simple ceremony and reception, and he was planning an extended honeymoon after the reception. It would give Katie time to grow accustomed to her position as his wife, to what was expected of her as a Death Eater's wife. He expected to be back at the Manor by late summer or early autumn, by which time a child would definitely be growing within her.
All that was left was Katie's acceptance of his plan.
He found her taking a nap, curled up in bed beneath the covers. He stroked her hair, sitting beside her on the bed. She was wearing a loose nightgown when he pulled the covers back, and he lifted it up above her hips. He tossed the knickers elsewhere, and began stroking her folds with one hand and the nipple of one breast with his other. She stirred, making a soft moan of pleasure. Katie woke as he pumped his fingers inside of her, back arched and gasping for breath. She came, but he kept going through her orgasm, thumb sliding across her clit and two fingers crooked inside of her. Katie gasped and writhed beneath him, moaning his name.
Marcus didn't bother to undress all the way. He lifted one of her legs and left the other splayed to the side. Keeping hold of her raised leg with one hand, Marcus slid into her and kept her hips propped up with the other. Katie gasped at the feel of him deep inside of her and grasped at his thighs to pull him closer. "Fuck, you feel good," he grunted, feeling her inner walls flutter around his cock invitingly. Katie bit her lip and arched her back, her head pressed back into the pillow beneath her. She moaned, fingers digging into his thighs tightly. She came again, tightening around him, and Marcus growled at the sensation. Another few thrusts and he came as well, leaning heavily into her.
"What's this about?" Katie asked once she could catch her breath.
He simply smiled at her and disentangled himself from her. "Nothing special. Just wanted to see you before I headed out to do some paperwork."
Katie propped herself up on her elbows as he straightened out his clothing. "Oh? Are you going to be away for a long time?"
Marcus caught hold of the back of her neck and pulled her in for a kiss. "Hopefully not." He dropped another kiss onto her forehead. "I'll see you later."
She frowned as she watched him leave. It didn't register at first, but she didn't hear the door to the cell click shut. Katie cautiously cleaned herself up and then dressed in the clothes that Apple had left out for her. She rubbed her hands along the back of the skirt she was wearing; they suddenly felt clammy and cold. She cautiously pushed at the door to the cell, not believing what she was seeing when it moved. After a moment, when nothing happened, she slipped through the door. The hallway had the same stone as the cell, the same dim lighting overhead. "Marcus?" she called hesitantly.
Katie shivered and wrapped her arms around herself as she stepped from the cell. She looked back for a moment, not sure what she should do. While she didn't enjoy the idea of being locked away, at least she knew what to expect there. She didn't know where she was in Flint Manor, didn't know how heavily guarded it would be or even how to get out. She pressed her lips together and took a deep breath. She could figure this out.
It felt like she was being watched, but she progressed down the hallway. After a few feet, a rank stench rose up, and she had to pull her shirt up over her mouth and nose to try and block some of it out. She looked at the doors on either side of the hallway, not sure where the smell was coming from. It was a combination of mildew, blood, shit and decay, and Katie couldn't figure out why it seemed to cling to the walls heavily. Some of the doors had barred windows over them, and Katie stood of tiptoe to try to look into them. In one room, she though she could see a body lying on the floor, dark hair spread out around the head.
The door opened easily, and Katie made sure to wedge it open, just in case it locked as soon as it was shut. "Hello? Are you all right?" she called out. "I won't hurt you."
The figure on the floor was silent, and the cell was even darker than the hallway or her cell had been. Uneasily, Katie stepped forward. The floor was rough and uneven, with dark stains here and there. "Are you all right?" she rasped, feeling nervous.
Katie choked back a scream when she looked at the figure up close. It had been a girl once, with long dark hair. Her eyes were ripped out of her head, and her lower jaw was missing. The ragged edges of the wounds looked like bite marks, and the rest of the face was covered in deep gouges and bites in varying stages of decay. The girl's throat had been ripped out, and she had been disemboweled. Her hands and feet were cut off, the tendons pinned to the stone floor.
Katie staggered backward, unable to breathe, her eyes watering. She looked around the room in a panic, and could see other vague shapes in the corner. She could hear a soft whining sound, and dimly realized she was the one making the horrified noises.
All at once she was pushed up against the wall. The breath was knocked out of her, and her arms were wrenched from her side to be shackled. Katie could feel something damp slide into her hair, could hear the squish of it against her back. She let out a choked sob, looking around her in a panic. It was as if the shadows around her were shifting.
A hand closed around her throat heavily, and it felt almost familiar. The shadows coalesced into Marcus' stony face as he stared down at her.
Katie began to sob openly, unable to tear her eyes away from his. She couldn't say anything; the horror of finding the dead girl was too terrible to even contemplate. "She's dead," she finally was able to say between wracking sobs.
"Had been for months," Marcus agreed evenly.
If anything, the quiet tone of voice was even more horrifying, and she shivered. "How could..."
His hand tightened a fraction. "I didn't. These are my father's cells."
My father would wonder why I hadn't killed you yet, Marcus had told her. She hadn't really believed it at the time. Katie sobbed, succumbing to the terror that had been building up within her. She looked at him plaintively, feeling completely helpless.
Marcus took his hand away from her throat. He watched her cry, feeling his insides twist into knots. "These are my father's cells," he repeated slowly. "This is what he does to muggles, to muggle lovers and blood traitors. I am not the same as him." He brushed the tears from her cheeks. "Do you think I'd hurt you this way?"
She wanted to say that he used to, but he hadn't been as vicious as this. He hadn't left her to die, hadn't done such horrible things to her. He had been controlled and calculated when torturing her physically. Even when impulsive, Marcus had raped her but hadn't threatened to kill her. Her lips trembled as she looked at him, not sure what she should say in response.
Marcus could see her confusion, the hesitancy in her. "Katie, do you really think I'll do such horrid things to you?" he asked again. She shook her head, still looking terrified. "This is what happens out there," he told her, enunciating carefully so that she understood him even though her shock. "This is what can happen."
Her lips trembled and she blinked back tears while looking at him. "What happens now?" she rasped, her voice breaking.
Marcus opened the shackles and lowered her to the floor. "You're coming with me, Katie."
The tears continued at the sound of his voice, quiet and without intonation. She wanted to ask him what he meant when he grasped her wrist, pulling her out of the cell. Her breath hitched in her chest and she hiccupped as she passed by the dead girl's body, trying to keep from screaming at the sight. How could they just leave her there to rot? How could they do that? She wanted to pull away, to scream at Marcus, to figure out how she could get away from all this pain and death.
Katie lost track of the hallways and stairwells, until Marcus pushed her into a large, airy bedroom. It was easily twice the size of her childhood bedroom, done in light creamy colors with large glass windows and so much daylight that she was dizzy. She was hyperventilating, stepping backward and away from those windows, crashing into Marcus. He held her arms to steady her, and whatever muck was in her hair and on her clothes smeared across his chest. She was shaking so hard her teeth chattered, and Marcus spun her about to look at him.
"Katie?" he murmured, hands tight on her arms. "Are you all right?" She shook her head, blinking quickly to keep from sobbing again. "What's wrong?"
"It's so bright," she whimpered, shaking her head.
Marcus pulled her outside of the room and into the next one. The room was just as large, but the furniture was dark mahogany, the drapes were mostly drawn and everything in the room was a bit darker and more dramatic, all dark greens and blues. It was his bedroom, and connected to the other one by the bathroom. He had thought it would be an easier adjustment for her, but apparently was wrong. He sat her down at his desk and hovered next to her almost anxiously. There was a folder on the desk, closed, and a quill beside it, but Katie didn't seem to notice any of it. "Katie," he said, voice soft. "Are you all right?"
"What's going on?" she asked, her voice cracking, her hands clenched tightly in her lap. "I don't understand," she said, her voice rising until it was almost a wail.
Marcus opened the folder in front of her. "Read this, Katie."
With shaking fingers, she took up the sheets of parchment and read them. She came back to the beginning in shock and looked up at him incredulously. "Five years married to you?"
"Forever if we have children," he said, not about to tell her about the child that was even now trying to make a home in her womb. It was far too early for her to feel changes in her body.
Her lips trembled and she couldn't seem to put together coherent thoughts. "Why?"
Marcus let his hand slide down the front of her shirt to cup a breast, his thumb brushing over the nipple. She shivered under his touch. "Do you need to ask?"
Katie blinked back tears. She couldn't help but think of the dead girl, and wondered what would happen if she didn't sign this document. It was binding, with terms and conditions and esoteric rules that would govern her for the entire course of its duration. She could hardly breathe through her panic, and he was hovering too closely, setting off all of her nerves. She was making soft whimpering sounds of fear, and she bit her lip in shame.
"You don't have to sign it," Marcus told her gently, letting his hand fall from her breast into her lap. "I can always bring you back downstairs."
The whining sound grew louder, and Katie was aware that she was close to screaming. She was shaking so hard that she wondered why she was even still in the chair.
"Your cell is right where we left it," he continued in that same gentle tone. "I can bring you right back there and tuck you back into bed. This will all be a horrid dream."
She was stuttering, not sure what she was trying to say. But she couldn't go down there, couldn't return to the cell. She couldn't bear knowing about the dead girl so close to her, couldn't bear to think about the possibility of more dead girls in the other cells she hadn't checked. Katie pushed back from the desk violently, and ran from Marcus. He stood there, brows knit as he watched her. She hadn't run toward the door, hadn't made any moves toward his sleeve where his wand was kept. He even had her wand tucked into his shirt; he had retrieved it while he had been waiting for her under a disillusionment charm in the hallway.
Katie had run to the window, her hand clenched in the drape as she twitched it aside. She made a soft choking sound as she looked out of the window. "How long was I gone?" she rasped.
"It's mid-March now," Marcus told her. She was pale and shivering, teeth nearly chattering. She was in shock, and he hadn't thought she would react this badly. "I've had you since July."
She remembered July, remembered the Burrow and the twins and the plans they had made as if it had all been so simple. She felt the hot tears on her cheeks, and wiped at them hastily. "March," she whispered, still looking out of the window. She was facing a garden that seemed to just realize it was becoming spring. Katie turned to him with a mournful expression. "I've lost so much," she moaned. "I can't get that back."
"No, you can't," he agreed in a soft tone. "But you can begin again."
"As your personal whore?" she asked, voice breaking. She flinched at the way his jaw tightened, how unhappy he seemed by that.
"The terms are more than fair."
They would be married for five years unless she had a child; throughout that time she would be looked after and cared for, would lack for nothing. She knew she wasn't being fair. The contract said nothing about the origins of their relationship, said nothing about terms that would condemn her back to the dungeons. There was a vague section regarding disagreements that would be resolved as the situation saw fit, and a section regarding the possibility of adding further terms if they were both agreed upon. Katie wrapped her arms around herself and looked at him in distress. "So I sign that and marry you or I get locked away again?" she rasped.
She watched as Marcus approached her. He towered over her, and she felt small and helpless in front of him. She flinched as he touched her cheek, brushing at the damp spots. "It's your choice." His voice was soft, almost deceptively lulling.
"It isn't much of a choice," she replied, a shade tartly.
Marcus smiled at the sound of it. "It's still a choice. You have your own free will here."
Isolated in the lap of luxury or isolated in a cell. Not much of a choice.
Katie looked from his impassive face to the desk. "I'll sign it," she whispered in a voice she hardly recognized as her own. Marcus drew her back to the desk and had her sit down at the desk. If he had looked triumphant, she might have balked at actually signing it. But he seemed to understand that this was difficult for her, and didn't gloat at all. He signed on the line next to her signature, and she could feel the magic bind itself around her.
He laid a hand on her shoulder gently. "You can stay here with me until the wedding day. You'll have to stay next door, in that other room, for the preparations."
"Wedding," Katie echoed dumbly.
Marcus opened one of his desk drawers and removed a small ring box. He took her left hand and slid the ring there on her ring finger. She stared at it numbly, a classic diamond solitaire on a gold band. "We'll be married in a week and a half, on Easter Sunday." He held her numb hand in his, stroking the back of her hand with his thumb. She shivered at his touch, and he kissed her temple tenderly. "The contract is binding starting today."
She could feel its magic sink into her skin the moment the contract had been signed. It felt final, like something she couldn't turn back from. Katie began to cry again, and let Marcus pull her into his embrace. That was familiar, achingly so, and she didn't know what to make of it.
But she had made her choice, and now she would have to live with it.
***
***