Fanfic: Shards of things forgotten.
A row of burning candles sent an oddly cold glow against the rough texture of the dark stone wall. The air seemed to tremble with unspoken words and the unlit fireplace seemed hollow and ghostly.
“Please, you have to help me.” A voice whispered from the shadows, it was weak and pleading and sent a shudder of dislike down the spine of the woman sitting in a large red arm chair, her face hidden in the darkness.
“Help you?” The second voice was hollow and disbelieving but the owner turned in her seat so the back of the chair did no longer cast a shadow over her pale face and gaunt features.
“There was a time when you loved me…” The whisper continued and a tall figure appeared from the shadows, her long white hair falling down her shoulders and her lean fingers unbuttoning an impeccable dark green robe. Black eyes narrowed from the arm chair.
“Show some fucking dignity Cissa.” The voice snapped angrily and a thin, dark haired woman rose from the chair, her dark eyes looking at her companion in disgust as the other woman continued to walk towards her, her robes falling open to reveal only pale, naked skin, trembling.
“This is what you have become?” The dark haired woman hissed, advancing on the blonde, grabbing her arm and pushing her away. “Whoring yourself out for favours?” Her eyes gleamed in the candle light as Narcissa’s back hit the wall and she slid down to her knees, returning like a discarded habit to clasp onto heavy black robes.
“Please.” Her eyes shone with despair and her voice cracked as she clanged onto the dark material as a live preserver, pulling herself upward. “Bella, please.” She begged, tears soiling her much too thin cheeks, her hands feverishly searching long legs for answers. But they were pushed away and Narcissa fell backwards onto the ground, a painful sob wrecking through her body.
“You’re pathetic.” Bellatrix snarled, averting her eyes in revulsion. “Begging like a filthy house elf, where’s your pride!” She cried out, anger contorting her drawn features.
“He’s my son.” Narcissa whispered, tears staining her voice as she ignored the wetness on her cheeks and moved with some difficulty back onto her hands and knees, starring pleadingly up at the other woman.
“He failed.” Her words were slow and pointed; her dark eyes cold and harsh as she pinned the blonde down with them. Narcissa flinched from her words and crawled towards her, again grabbing onto her robes, but moving her hands underneath them instead, her palms brushing over naked skin.
“I know you want this.” She whispered urgently, willing her hands to affect her sister as she rubbed them feverishly over her calves, her knees, her thighs.
“Cissa, you don’t know what you’re…” Her protest was cut off by a loud groan and she raised her leg, aimed it at the blonde’s chest and kicked her to the ground.
With a painful moan, Narcissa’s back connected with the cold stone floor and she winced. Her robes fell completely open and she writhed on the floor, her face contorted in pain and her now almost naked body was stiff and arched. She didn’t have time to try to advance on the woman again because Bellatrix lunged at her, and Narcissa cried out in pain as she felt what had to be several fingers thrust violently inside her without warning.
“Shut up.” Bellatrix hissed as she withdrew her fingers and then watched Narcissa’s face intently and slammed her way back inside, smirking at the way it made the pretty, fine features warp in pain.
“Bella…” Narcissa whimpered as tears again started to well up in her now tightly shut eyes. Her head turned away but her legs opened wider, inviting the assault. Bellatrix’ fingers grew in numbers and her eyes glimmered as Narcissa stifled a cry, biting her lip as a fine redness emanated from the pearly white.
“There, there, sister dear.” Bellatrix cooked venomously. “Isn’t this what you wanted?” She asked in feigned sweetness, but frowned as she didn’t receive a reply. The dim light from the candles danced over Narcissa’s vacant expression, her pale body heaving up and down from her shallow breathing but showing no other sign of being alive. Bellatrix chest constricted in fear and she starred at the woman, her hand stilling down and stopping.
“Cissa, I…” She started in a small voice, but the light changed in the white as Narcissa turned her head to gaze at her sister.
“Don’t stop.” She breathed, one hand reaching for the one buried between her legs and she grasped it, starting to move it in and out on her own, her eyes fluttering shut.
Bellatrix was still starring at her sister in disbelief, but started to move her hand in rhythm with Narcissa’s urgings, speeding up and adding force as the blonde withdrew her own hand and her head tilted back against the cold stone floor.
“Look at me.” Bellatrix urged, in a voice that didn’t sound like her own and Narcissa objeyed, her steel grey eyes flickering in the candlelight, pain and confusion mixed with determination and guilt. Bellatrix looked away and shivered as Narcissa grabbed her shoulder in a vice grip, clenched her fingers hard, and shuddered. Her eyes still open, her body stiff and her mouth open as if soundlessly trying to cry out, she shook for a few moments before her eyes fluttered shut again and she fell, panting against the hard stone.
Bellatrix didn’t move for a few moments, her eyes glued to her sister’s face where ragged breaths were escaping as if she didn’t see a need to keep her breath inside her body. Then something stirred within the brunette and she got to her feet, brushing the wetness of her hand as if it was poisonous, the contemptuous look back in her eyes as she glared at the blonde who slowly sat up, wrapping her dark robes back around her vulnerable body.
Bellatrix looked away and walked to the door. She hesitated for a moment, and turned her head ever so slightly. Out of the corner of her eye she could see her older sister, sitting on the cold floor, arms wrapped around herself and starring vacantly at the wall in front of her.
She looked so small, as if the room had suddenly grown larger around her. Her thin frame, hugging itself, cast a long shadow over the closest wall.
“Don’t worry about Draco.” Bellatrix said in a quiet voice, surprised to realise it emanated from her own throat. “Just make sure he doesn’t mess up again.” She added a bit sharper and walked to the door.
“Thank you.” The soft whisper and the underlying emotions made something within Bellatrix stir up again and she stopped. For a brief moment she just stood there with her hand on the doorknob, looking as if she was about to turn around. But then something changed in her demeanour and her back straightened, her limbs stiffened and suddenly she was gone, the door swinging eerily on its hinges making the candles flicker and dance over blonde matted hair and a watery line falling down pale, drawn skin.
Feedback would be more then appreciated. ;)