[fic] Snow White, Blood Red (Regulus/Narcissa, R)
Snow White, Blood Red
Ship: Regulus/Narcissa
Rating: R
Summary: She never demanded anything of him, which made him want to do things for her.
Warnings: Regulus is 14 and Narcissa is 16.
A/N: This was intended for the 500 Watchers celebration, but at 1,500 words it's a bit long for that. Thank you to iulia_linnea for the proofreading. Cross-posted to thistlefics and erotic_elves.
During the winter of Regulus Black's fourth year at Hogwarts, a terrible ice storm struck the valley. It tore down from the mountains like a host of ghostly horsemen, slashing the air with wind as sharp as swords. Regulus lay awake all night listening to it, his blanket drawn up to his chin.
He wasn't afraid of the storm; deep in the castle dungeons, the Slytherin dormitories were the safest place to be. He smiled thinking of the Gryffindors up in their tower. He hoped it was swaying in the high wind, and that they were all cowering together. Wouldn't it be brilliant, he thought, if the wind tore off the roof and swooped down on them, like the Wild Hunt in the old stories, and tossed them up into the frozen air? He imagined his brother tumbling helplessly through the air, his eyes wide with fright.
He fell asleep at dawn when the storm began to die, just before deciding Sirius's fate. It was late morning when he woke again, and breakfast was long over.
It was Saturday, so there were no classes to attend, and he reckoned he would have enough time tonight and Sunday for all his homework. He slipped into his warmest fur-lined robe, wound his green scarf around his neck, put on his hat and gloves, and went outside.
It was quiet, almost unnaturally so, as if someone had placed a Silencing Charm on the valley. Everything from the yellow grass blades to topmost tree branches was crusted with ice and blinding in the sunlight.
Regulus took one step away from the castle, slipped, and landed on his arse. He sat for several long moments, stunned and blinking. The sky was intensely blue and looked hard as polished stone. The lake was a sheet of ice; several students were skating and obviously enjoying themselves, but Regulus couldn't hear their chatter.
He got up when water began to seep through his trousers, numbing him. He'd cut himself, he noticed, just above his wrist. Slowly and carefully he made his way around the castle to the greenhouses and was relieved to see that they had gone undamaged by the storm.
Inside he found Professor Sprout struggling with a plant that was trying ferociously to escape its clay pot.
"No - don't need - any help," she grunted when she saw him.
Regulus almost informed her that he hadn't offered any when the sigh of fabric over flagstones captured his attention and, turning, he saw his cousin Narcissa standing amid a cluster of blood red lilies on the opposite side of the greenhouse.
She beckoned, so he hurried over to her. Narcissa was his favorite cousin, his favorite relative. He had always liked her because she was beautiful and didn't bellow like his mother, Bellatrix, and Sirius. She never demanded anything of him, which made him want to do things for her.
This morning she smelled like lavender and orange blossoms, scents he only recognized because Sirius had once nicked some of her perfume bottles and tried to convince Regulus that they were Smartening Up Potions. Her hair blazed in the sunlight that streamed through the glass panels, but the rest of her was pale.
"What're you doing here, Cissy?" he asked. Herbology was her least favorite subject; she hated getting her hands dirty.
"Gathering ingredients." She held up the small basket in her hand. He saw a few leaves and one bulgy root. "Take this," she said and when he did she turned and deftly plucked the stamen and pistil from one of the lilies. She added them quickly to the basket, then took it back from him.
"There," she said, sounding somewhat breathless. "I think that's everything I need here."
"But what are you making?" She was obviously making some sort of potion, and he didn't recognize any of the ingredients she'd gathered. But he was two years younger; perhaps this was homework.
"You'll see," she promised. Then, to his complete astonishment, she swooped on him and kissed him full on the mouth. It wasn't his first kiss, but he felt as if he'd been shot full of electricity. His skin tingled. His heart swung like a pendulum and slammed into his rib cage. His cock twitched.
Don't, he pleaded with it, though it had never listened to his pleas before. Don't. She's my cousin. And she's going to marry Lucius Malfoy. He'll kill you if he even thinks you're thinking about her.
But he couldn't stop thinking about her. Even long after she'd pulled away, smiled at him again, and hurried past him, out of the greenhouse in a blur of blonde hair and silver fox fur. He stood there staring after her like an idiot, his entire body tingling.
She is your cousin. Your cousin. Blacks sometimes marry their cousins but - still.
He thought about her throughout the remainder of the day. His fork missed his mouth several times during dinner because he was looking across the table at her mouth and thinking about how soft her lips had been when they'd kissed him. She had opened her mouth slightly and he had felt a rush of heat before her tongue had touched his lips so daintily - as if she were a cat and he a saucer of cream at her feet.
He thought about her in the shower that night when he could allow his cock to do whatever it wanted and all he had to worry about was not groaning too loudly. He imagined Narcissa on her knees before him, her pale lips around his cock. He'd never been sucked off, but he'd read about it in the dirty mags he'd nicked from Sirius. He imagined putting his thumbs between her white thighs and prying them apart and finding her as red and slick as the inside of a pomegranate.
He went to bed feeling drained and dreamed about her. She came to him silently and slipped into bed beside him. He opened his mouth to ask what she as doing there, but she put one finger to his lips and shook her head.
She was shaking in his dream and her hands were cold. "I've put an Imperturbability Charm on your bed curtains, but I want you to be quiet," she whispered. She fumbled with his pajama bottoms. He gasped when she yanked them down to his knees, but she looked at him warningly, so he bit his lip.
"There's something I have to do," she explained. "The potion I made. I have to see if it works. If it does - that's good. If it doesn't, I don't know what I'll do. I need you to help me, Regulus. It's easy. All you have to do is lie still."
But it was impossible to lie still when she crouched over him and began touching him - there - with her small hands. His heart began to swing madly again. It was too hot under the blankets. He squirmed and tossed his head and gripped the sheets.
Then she was straddling him. She was lowering herself onto him.
"Oh," he whimpered and - hated himself for whimpering. "Oh."
"We can stop now," Narcissa said. "Or we can keep going. This is all I need to do to find out if my potion will work. But I thought…since this is your first time… At least I assume it's your first time…"
"Please." He bucked his hips and she inhaled sharply.
"All right." Her voice shook. "I'll stay. But you can't tell anyone. Lucius has to think he's the first."
"But he won't be."
"No. And neither are you, so don't be smug."
"Who…?" He didn't know why he asked.
Her lips quirked. "Oh, you don't want to know."
Then she raised herself and lowered herself and Regulus lost the ability to think.
The rest of the dream was hazy. The world seemed to explode and come back together. There was blood between Narcissa's thighs and for some reason this pleased her. She kissed him before she left, more passionately than she had in the greenhouse, and murmured, "You're sweeter" - which puzzled him.
He woke feeling as if he'd barely slept. Turning over with a groan, he discovered a droplet of blood on his sheets. He frowned at it, remembering his dream, but banished the idea. He'd cut himself when he fell yesterday; it hadn't been a deep cut, but he could have broken the scab in his sleep.
He blushed when he saw Narcissa at breakfast, but she was as serene as ever. She passed him the maple syrup, then turned to one of her friends and began to chatter animatedly about some essay that was due tomorrow.
Fine, Regulus thought. It was a nice dream.
It was the most vivid dream he ever had, and he never forgot it, even years later, after Narcissa had married Lucius Malfoy and he had shagged so many women that he lost count of how many. He thought of Narcissa as his first and wondered why he couldn't have dreamed about being her first. That would have made the dream perfect.
Dreams ought to be perfect, Regulus thought, because life wasn't.
When the Dark Lord sent Lucius to kill him, Regulus thought about telling him that he had shagged Narcissa. It wouldn't save him, but he knew Lucius would hate it. He closed his eyes and imagined his spoken words hurtling toward Lucius like swords. They would wound Lucius and keep wounding. They would chase him like the Wild Hunt.
But Regulus was dead before he could open his mouth to speak.
9/23/05
Ship: Regulus/Narcissa
Rating: R
Summary: She never demanded anything of him, which made him want to do things for her.
Warnings: Regulus is 14 and Narcissa is 16.
A/N: This was intended for the 500 Watchers celebration, but at 1,500 words it's a bit long for that. Thank you to iulia_linnea for the proofreading. Cross-posted to thistlefics and erotic_elves.
During the winter of Regulus Black's fourth year at Hogwarts, a terrible ice storm struck the valley. It tore down from the mountains like a host of ghostly horsemen, slashing the air with wind as sharp as swords. Regulus lay awake all night listening to it, his blanket drawn up to his chin.
He wasn't afraid of the storm; deep in the castle dungeons, the Slytherin dormitories were the safest place to be. He smiled thinking of the Gryffindors up in their tower. He hoped it was swaying in the high wind, and that they were all cowering together. Wouldn't it be brilliant, he thought, if the wind tore off the roof and swooped down on them, like the Wild Hunt in the old stories, and tossed them up into the frozen air? He imagined his brother tumbling helplessly through the air, his eyes wide with fright.
He fell asleep at dawn when the storm began to die, just before deciding Sirius's fate. It was late morning when he woke again, and breakfast was long over.
It was Saturday, so there were no classes to attend, and he reckoned he would have enough time tonight and Sunday for all his homework. He slipped into his warmest fur-lined robe, wound his green scarf around his neck, put on his hat and gloves, and went outside.
It was quiet, almost unnaturally so, as if someone had placed a Silencing Charm on the valley. Everything from the yellow grass blades to topmost tree branches was crusted with ice and blinding in the sunlight.
Regulus took one step away from the castle, slipped, and landed on his arse. He sat for several long moments, stunned and blinking. The sky was intensely blue and looked hard as polished stone. The lake was a sheet of ice; several students were skating and obviously enjoying themselves, but Regulus couldn't hear their chatter.
He got up when water began to seep through his trousers, numbing him. He'd cut himself, he noticed, just above his wrist. Slowly and carefully he made his way around the castle to the greenhouses and was relieved to see that they had gone undamaged by the storm.
Inside he found Professor Sprout struggling with a plant that was trying ferociously to escape its clay pot.
"No - don't need - any help," she grunted when she saw him.
Regulus almost informed her that he hadn't offered any when the sigh of fabric over flagstones captured his attention and, turning, he saw his cousin Narcissa standing amid a cluster of blood red lilies on the opposite side of the greenhouse.
She beckoned, so he hurried over to her. Narcissa was his favorite cousin, his favorite relative. He had always liked her because she was beautiful and didn't bellow like his mother, Bellatrix, and Sirius. She never demanded anything of him, which made him want to do things for her.
This morning she smelled like lavender and orange blossoms, scents he only recognized because Sirius had once nicked some of her perfume bottles and tried to convince Regulus that they were Smartening Up Potions. Her hair blazed in the sunlight that streamed through the glass panels, but the rest of her was pale.
"What're you doing here, Cissy?" he asked. Herbology was her least favorite subject; she hated getting her hands dirty.
"Gathering ingredients." She held up the small basket in her hand. He saw a few leaves and one bulgy root. "Take this," she said and when he did she turned and deftly plucked the stamen and pistil from one of the lilies. She added them quickly to the basket, then took it back from him.
"There," she said, sounding somewhat breathless. "I think that's everything I need here."
"But what are you making?" She was obviously making some sort of potion, and he didn't recognize any of the ingredients she'd gathered. But he was two years younger; perhaps this was homework.
"You'll see," she promised. Then, to his complete astonishment, she swooped on him and kissed him full on the mouth. It wasn't his first kiss, but he felt as if he'd been shot full of electricity. His skin tingled. His heart swung like a pendulum and slammed into his rib cage. His cock twitched.
Don't, he pleaded with it, though it had never listened to his pleas before. Don't. She's my cousin. And she's going to marry Lucius Malfoy. He'll kill you if he even thinks you're thinking about her.
But he couldn't stop thinking about her. Even long after she'd pulled away, smiled at him again, and hurried past him, out of the greenhouse in a blur of blonde hair and silver fox fur. He stood there staring after her like an idiot, his entire body tingling.
She is your cousin. Your cousin. Blacks sometimes marry their cousins but - still.
He thought about her throughout the remainder of the day. His fork missed his mouth several times during dinner because he was looking across the table at her mouth and thinking about how soft her lips had been when they'd kissed him. She had opened her mouth slightly and he had felt a rush of heat before her tongue had touched his lips so daintily - as if she were a cat and he a saucer of cream at her feet.
He thought about her in the shower that night when he could allow his cock to do whatever it wanted and all he had to worry about was not groaning too loudly. He imagined Narcissa on her knees before him, her pale lips around his cock. He'd never been sucked off, but he'd read about it in the dirty mags he'd nicked from Sirius. He imagined putting his thumbs between her white thighs and prying them apart and finding her as red and slick as the inside of a pomegranate.
He went to bed feeling drained and dreamed about her. She came to him silently and slipped into bed beside him. He opened his mouth to ask what she as doing there, but she put one finger to his lips and shook her head.
She was shaking in his dream and her hands were cold. "I've put an Imperturbability Charm on your bed curtains, but I want you to be quiet," she whispered. She fumbled with his pajama bottoms. He gasped when she yanked them down to his knees, but she looked at him warningly, so he bit his lip.
"There's something I have to do," she explained. "The potion I made. I have to see if it works. If it does - that's good. If it doesn't, I don't know what I'll do. I need you to help me, Regulus. It's easy. All you have to do is lie still."
But it was impossible to lie still when she crouched over him and began touching him - there - with her small hands. His heart began to swing madly again. It was too hot under the blankets. He squirmed and tossed his head and gripped the sheets.
Then she was straddling him. She was lowering herself onto him.
"Oh," he whimpered and - hated himself for whimpering. "Oh."
"We can stop now," Narcissa said. "Or we can keep going. This is all I need to do to find out if my potion will work. But I thought…since this is your first time… At least I assume it's your first time…"
"Please." He bucked his hips and she inhaled sharply.
"All right." Her voice shook. "I'll stay. But you can't tell anyone. Lucius has to think he's the first."
"But he won't be."
"No. And neither are you, so don't be smug."
"Who…?" He didn't know why he asked.
Her lips quirked. "Oh, you don't want to know."
Then she raised herself and lowered herself and Regulus lost the ability to think.
The rest of the dream was hazy. The world seemed to explode and come back together. There was blood between Narcissa's thighs and for some reason this pleased her. She kissed him before she left, more passionately than she had in the greenhouse, and murmured, "You're sweeter" - which puzzled him.
He woke feeling as if he'd barely slept. Turning over with a groan, he discovered a droplet of blood on his sheets. He frowned at it, remembering his dream, but banished the idea. He'd cut himself when he fell yesterday; it hadn't been a deep cut, but he could have broken the scab in his sleep.
He blushed when he saw Narcissa at breakfast, but she was as serene as ever. She passed him the maple syrup, then turned to one of her friends and began to chatter animatedly about some essay that was due tomorrow.
Fine, Regulus thought. It was a nice dream.
It was the most vivid dream he ever had, and he never forgot it, even years later, after Narcissa had married Lucius Malfoy and he had shagged so many women that he lost count of how many. He thought of Narcissa as his first and wondered why he couldn't have dreamed about being her first. That would have made the dream perfect.
Dreams ought to be perfect, Regulus thought, because life wasn't.
When the Dark Lord sent Lucius to kill him, Regulus thought about telling him that he had shagged Narcissa. It wouldn't save him, but he knew Lucius would hate it. He closed his eyes and imagined his spoken words hurtling toward Lucius like swords. They would wound Lucius and keep wounding. They would chase him like the Wild Hunt.
But Regulus was dead before he could open his mouth to speak.
9/23/05