FIC; Opened to the Unkown, Bellatrix/Narcissa, NC-17.

Sep 13, 2006 01:13

Title: Opened to the Unknown
Pairing(s): Narcissa/Bellatrix.
Rating: NC-17, to be safe.
Summary: Andromeda is gone, and Bellatrix requires a few pick-me-ups.
Warnings: Femmeslash.
Author's Note: Thanks to mantypants and pre_rapaelite1 for the betas. Written for the exchange.

I

It happened on Bellatrix’s birthday. Not that anyone took any notice of that fact. No one ever did. Number Twelve Grimmauld Place had neither the time nor the patience for such frivolity.

She remembered preparing a small birthday repast for herself in her bedroom, nothing more than a few crumpets. Candles burned by her bedside, one for each year of her existence. She stared at the hot wax dripping from the side of the candles, and that’s when she heard the voices.

“But mother, I love him!”

“That’s enough out of you, young lady! I don’t need your insolence. If I say you can’t marry Ted Tonks, then you can’t. The line must be kept, pure and unbroken.”

“Does my love for him mean nothing to you, mother?”

“Love is not worth putting your family’s survival at stake.”

“But mother, you have two other daughters, let them marry pure-blood. I intend to marry Ted anyway.”

“Then as far as your family is concerned, you were never even born.”

Bellatrix heard the front door slam. She listened for her mother’s retreat into the kitchen, resolute and resigned. It was too much for her. She dashed throughout the house, seeking her sister. She found Narcissa perched on the living room sofa, her face placid, not betraying any hidden feelings, if indeed there were any. Bellatrix fell into her sister’s soft embrace, sobbing.

“She didn’t even say goodbye.”

II

A few weeks passed, and Bellatrix lived them as if Andromeda had just left. At random hours of day or night, she could be heard wailing in her bedroom, or seen wandering the halls, clutching at the walls, muttering broken laments and empty promises. She rarely ate, and usually spent her meals sulking at the table, pushing her food around with her knife. She couldn’t sleep at night, either. Instead, she would yowl into her pillow until her sister had to calm her. Narcissa was rarely able to sleep herself, tossing and churning like a raging ocean.

A month passed, and Bellatrix couldn’t even bring herself to pleasure herself to relieve the tension. The desire to do such things had left with Andromeda, and she knew why. For now that Andromeda was gone, there was no one left to cradle her and caress her, to lick her and to suck her, to stroke her and to finger her. She couldn’t bear the thought of doing it herself, having been used to sitting back and enjoying her sister’s touches. But now, no one would do that. She could not even bear to ask Narcissa.

III

A dark, enclosed chamber, dim lights flickering on and off in a slow, throbbing rhythm. Two shadowy silhouettes enveloped in each other, pushing and thrusting in time with the pattern of the lights. Soft moans scattered in the murky air, punctuated by sharp cries of pain and pleasure. A frenzied hum began to stir in the deepest regions of the room, unbroken save for the rustlings and rumblings of the two entwined figures, dancing their passionate, fiery dance. Neither figure gave any sign of ceasing, nor did the intensity of their passion decrease. A moment passed.

Suddenly Bellatrix found herself in her bed, a sheen of sweat spread across her forehead. She shivered, and rolled over under the covers. Her clit was still throbbing from her dream. She knew that there was only one person left who could satisfy her desire. And that thought made her shudder, a hundred waves of simultaneous loathing and need coursing through her fragile body, bringing it closer to destruction. She knew this would be difficult, but she had to try nonetheless.

Bellatrix found Narcissa half-asleep on the sofa, her hair flowing gently in the night breeze trickling in from the window. She crept into the room, her nightgown dragging against the plush carpet as if it was trying to hold her back. Her hand found her sister’s chin, caressing it softly.

As her fingertips lightly brushed Narcissa’s forehead, Narcissa awoke from her half-slumber, staring up at her sister with groggy eyes. Neither of them spoke a single word, nor did any other sound escape from their lips. They didn’t need verbal communication to know what was inevitably going to happen.

Narcissa made the first move, pressing her lips to her sister’s, hard and unrelenting at first, then subsiding into soft, wispy waves of subdued passion. She calmly undid Bellatrix’s nightgown, allowing the silken fabric to rub gently on her nipples, provoking slight moans. The gown fell to the floor like a forgotten leaf from a forlorn tree.

Narcissa hastily began lapping at her sister’s nipples, kneading her breasts between her fingers, stroking her taut stomach until Bellatrix begged for her hands to descend. But Narcissa was not quite ready for that yet. She leaned over, applying small, delicate kisses to her sister’s shoulders, slowly moving to her breasts, stomach, and navel. Bellatrix moaned and wriggled like a dog yearning for attention, pleased that her wants and desires were being cared for so eagerly.

After a few moments of kissing and licking Bellatrix’s navel, Narcissa’s tongue came to rest upon the frizzy curls of her pubic hair. She twirled them with her fingers until Bellatrix pleaded for both mercy and fulfillment. She bucked her hips, yearning for an even greater touch. And this time, Narcissa gave it to her.

Her full, scarlet tongue connected with Bellatrix’s lips, teasing them, tickling them, roughing against them like sandpaper on a smooth surface. She thrust her tongue inside her sister, pressing against the sides of her entrance. She stroked her sister’s aching flesh with her tongue and lips, rubbing tissue together, pushing in as if the world were collapsing all around her and she had to get to a safe place. She retreated, sucking on her sister’s clit, tugging on it gently, while squeezing it periodically. Bellatrix shook with pleasure.

As Narcissa concentrated on pleasuring Bellatrix, she inserted a finger inside her sister, stretching the opening, making it more accessible, more tender. She pushed in and out, back and forth, relentless in her assault, careful in her retreat. Her other hand found her own opening, and proceeded in a similar fashion. Before long, the two were entranced, unable to cease their passion even if they had wanted to. As they thrust their bodies together, they opened themselves up to the unknown, reeling and plummeting into the abyss of what lay ahead. It became almost too much to bear.

After a few almost unbearable moments of thrusting, moaning, and flailing, Bellatrix’s orgasm shimmered through her like an electric shock, so painful it caused pleasure, so pleasurable it caused pain. Narcissa’s came chasing after its heel. For a time they both lay on the sofa, resting their spent bodies, contemplating what lay ahead in this time of darkness and void, a world without Andromeda confronting their future. Bellatrix looked her sister in the eye, the barest hint of a smile almost escaping from the cold fortress of her lips.

“Thank you.”

She returned to her bedroom and resumed her restless, decadent sleep.

melange1

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