Fic: Six of Swords
Title: Rite of Passage
Author: enchantedescape
Type: Fiction
Length: 1277
Main character or Pairing: Bellatrix and Rodolphus Lestrange
Card: Six of Swords
Card Interpretation: Passage by water, rite of passage, trials
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: This is a work of fanfiction. I do not own any of the characters, nor the world involved. I am simply borrowing them for fun. No offense or infringement is meant by this, nor is any profit made.
Warnings: None, relatively tame considering the characters involved.
Summary: Bellatrix and Rodolphus prove that they haven't been beaten quite yet.
Author Notes: I'd like to thank paraboban and shimmereys for beta-ing this for me!
She had cackled as they pronounced the sentence. Guilty. Of course, how could they say otherwise? She herself had announced it eagerly in the courtroom. They’d been astonished. They’d been downright shocked, and she, she had been glorious.
The memory was almost enough to combat the dark figures surrounding the boat. She stared ahead of her at the boat towing theirs. Of course the aurors were in their own boat. It would have been too dangerous for their precious jailers to be present in the same boat as she and her companions. They were in their own boat, with a patronus keeping the Dementors at bay. That didn’t keep their wands sheathed, however, and one of them was twirling his, laughing at something his companion was saying.
She and her companions, however, were in a separate boat, towed behind the main one by a length of rope. The Dementors hovered nearby, obviously wanting to partake off the four souls waiting for imprisonment. In a move that Bellatrix would have been proud to call her own, the aurors allowed the Dementors close enough to torment them, only sending them off when they began to truly threaten.
She could feel Rodolphus glaring at the aurors as he held her in his arms. The warmth offered was slight; the solidarity in the face of adversity offered more comfort. They were in this together, unrepentant, unwilling to shiver or cower no matter what these aurors would do. She allowed him to hold her, leaning into his embrace so that only he could know she truly found comfort there. They would be defiant until the end, lovers undisguised and sublime.
The air was more cold than crisp, and if they cared to look over the side of the boat, ice could be seen forming on the water. Surrounded by Dementors, how could it be anything else? The false night enveloped them, hiding both the shore and their destination from view.
“It would be beautiful to have sex here,” he whispered in her ear. His voice was strained, and she appreciated not only the gesture but the insubordination behind it.
She laughed loudly, only partially forced at the idea, and brought her hand up behind her to touch his face, staring at the aurors, daring them to do something. He was her husband and they were both wandless. If the aurors were that insecure, well, then all her taunts had been correct.
“Oh, Rodolphus, do you think it fair to remind them of passion they can never feel with their wands stuck so firmly up their arses?”
The air got colder as the Dementors approached, responding to the lack of terror with the obvious need to create more. Shivering, Bellatrix refused to move closer to her husband. They had stood and knelt before the Dark Lord, had taken his Mark, and these foul parasitic insects thought to feed on their souls. It was a travesty, just as the whole world was now.
Rodolphus chuckled into her neck, bringing back memories of sex after a fine kill. Even in these cold conditions, he could make her blood boil. They’d never gotten to celebrate the Longbottoms, toasting them in their own way. Even now, even surrounded by fear and despair, she shivered in lust and desire. The memory of the screams, frightened and in anguish brought with it the awareness of the other two occupants in their small boat.
She could feel, more than even see, shivering from Rabastan and Barty Jr. Barty hadn’t stopped shaking from the moment they pronounced his sentence. While no younger than Rabastan, Barty was much less prepared for His work. When he had requested to follow her in His stead, it had been flattering, even if she was still looking for her Master. For He was the one who had the power and the connections to make their shared vision a reality.
Bellatrix stared at the boat ahead of her, at the small ferret patronus prancing weightlessly around the edge and sneered. They were weak, unable to see the world for what it was, unable to face fear and laugh. The closest Dementor reached a little too close, and the ferret’s silvery companion, a hawk, flew between her and the Dementor, warming her slightly. While not much, it gave her the reprieve she needed. She was not so weak as to think herself above fear. One needed to understand it.
She settled into Rodolphus’ arms suggestively, allowing the aurors to see, to turn away in disgust at the display of desire. She laughed then, and he joined with her. “You do not know what passion is! You cannot when you are too afraid to live!”
Rabastan and Barty Jr. were muttering protests softly, knowing better than to let their enemies see the dissent, though at least on Barty’s part, that had already been fully accomplished.
They were not her targets though. She felt Rodolphus’ hands on her legs now, understanding her perfectly, moving with her as smoothly as they did on the dance floor, on the battlefield. They were one, and they were passion personified, even if her robes never rose higher than her ankles.
The feel of him there, his breath on her cheek, her hands on his legs, seemed to drive the Dementors into frenzy, and they began to approach in force. The water froze and the boat stilled its motion. Rabastan and Barty Jr. began to shake, though the boat could no longer do much but vibrate slightly, trapped in the ice.
She cackled and he howled, playing off each other, enjoying each other as they continued their audacious display. The Dementors approached, Rabastan and Barty Jr. finally screaming in fear as the aurors stared at she and Rodolphus.
“Your darkness lights my way,” she whispered to him, lover’s words spoken softly.
“And your strength in shadow has ever inspired me,” his lips kissing her cheek.
It was only then that the Dementors’ proximity began to have its effect. She pulled closer to him; he tightened his grip. She refused to cry out, to show those loathsome beasts in front of her that they could elicit such sounds from her. Rodolphus clenched his teeth, his jaw muscles quivering against hers as they fought the fear together, darkness closing in against their shivering forms.
All too long after it began, she felt warmth. The boat began to move again and as she opened her eyes, not having realized she’d shut them against the world, she could see the Dementors were held at bay again. The aurors seemed to be sharing some private joke, though what she could only imagine. If they were laughing about her, they would die, slowly, when He returned and she stood there at His side, her power returned to her.
Before her now loomed the fortress she would reside in, a mockery of a holiday for the four of His most loyal. Rodolphus nodded, against her, and she wondered briefly if his brother had whispered something to him, something she hadn’t heard. If he had, then perhaps the younger man was wasted in Azkaban, just as she and Rodolphus were. Of Barty Jr., she could only feel pity. He was too young, too weak to survive the world, any world.
The Dementors crept closer as the boats approached the shore, feeding off the despair the fortress itself inspired. Squeezing Rodolphus’ hand briefly, surreptitiously, she straightened her shoulders. She was Bellatrix, born a Black and married into Lestrange. She would not be broken. Bring what they could, what they dared, she would not be trapped here forever, and then, the celebration would be sweet.
Author: enchantedescape
Type: Fiction
Length: 1277
Main character or Pairing: Bellatrix and Rodolphus Lestrange
Card: Six of Swords
Card Interpretation: Passage by water, rite of passage, trials
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: This is a work of fanfiction. I do not own any of the characters, nor the world involved. I am simply borrowing them for fun. No offense or infringement is meant by this, nor is any profit made.
Warnings: None, relatively tame considering the characters involved.
Summary: Bellatrix and Rodolphus prove that they haven't been beaten quite yet.
Author Notes: I'd like to thank paraboban and shimmereys for beta-ing this for me!
She had cackled as they pronounced the sentence. Guilty. Of course, how could they say otherwise? She herself had announced it eagerly in the courtroom. They’d been astonished. They’d been downright shocked, and she, she had been glorious.
The memory was almost enough to combat the dark figures surrounding the boat. She stared ahead of her at the boat towing theirs. Of course the aurors were in their own boat. It would have been too dangerous for their precious jailers to be present in the same boat as she and her companions. They were in their own boat, with a patronus keeping the Dementors at bay. That didn’t keep their wands sheathed, however, and one of them was twirling his, laughing at something his companion was saying.
She and her companions, however, were in a separate boat, towed behind the main one by a length of rope. The Dementors hovered nearby, obviously wanting to partake off the four souls waiting for imprisonment. In a move that Bellatrix would have been proud to call her own, the aurors allowed the Dementors close enough to torment them, only sending them off when they began to truly threaten.
She could feel Rodolphus glaring at the aurors as he held her in his arms. The warmth offered was slight; the solidarity in the face of adversity offered more comfort. They were in this together, unrepentant, unwilling to shiver or cower no matter what these aurors would do. She allowed him to hold her, leaning into his embrace so that only he could know she truly found comfort there. They would be defiant until the end, lovers undisguised and sublime.
The air was more cold than crisp, and if they cared to look over the side of the boat, ice could be seen forming on the water. Surrounded by Dementors, how could it be anything else? The false night enveloped them, hiding both the shore and their destination from view.
“It would be beautiful to have sex here,” he whispered in her ear. His voice was strained, and she appreciated not only the gesture but the insubordination behind it.
She laughed loudly, only partially forced at the idea, and brought her hand up behind her to touch his face, staring at the aurors, daring them to do something. He was her husband and they were both wandless. If the aurors were that insecure, well, then all her taunts had been correct.
“Oh, Rodolphus, do you think it fair to remind them of passion they can never feel with their wands stuck so firmly up their arses?”
The air got colder as the Dementors approached, responding to the lack of terror with the obvious need to create more. Shivering, Bellatrix refused to move closer to her husband. They had stood and knelt before the Dark Lord, had taken his Mark, and these foul parasitic insects thought to feed on their souls. It was a travesty, just as the whole world was now.
Rodolphus chuckled into her neck, bringing back memories of sex after a fine kill. Even in these cold conditions, he could make her blood boil. They’d never gotten to celebrate the Longbottoms, toasting them in their own way. Even now, even surrounded by fear and despair, she shivered in lust and desire. The memory of the screams, frightened and in anguish brought with it the awareness of the other two occupants in their small boat.
She could feel, more than even see, shivering from Rabastan and Barty Jr. Barty hadn’t stopped shaking from the moment they pronounced his sentence. While no younger than Rabastan, Barty was much less prepared for His work. When he had requested to follow her in His stead, it had been flattering, even if she was still looking for her Master. For He was the one who had the power and the connections to make their shared vision a reality.
Bellatrix stared at the boat ahead of her, at the small ferret patronus prancing weightlessly around the edge and sneered. They were weak, unable to see the world for what it was, unable to face fear and laugh. The closest Dementor reached a little too close, and the ferret’s silvery companion, a hawk, flew between her and the Dementor, warming her slightly. While not much, it gave her the reprieve she needed. She was not so weak as to think herself above fear. One needed to understand it.
She settled into Rodolphus’ arms suggestively, allowing the aurors to see, to turn away in disgust at the display of desire. She laughed then, and he joined with her. “You do not know what passion is! You cannot when you are too afraid to live!”
Rabastan and Barty Jr. were muttering protests softly, knowing better than to let their enemies see the dissent, though at least on Barty’s part, that had already been fully accomplished.
They were not her targets though. She felt Rodolphus’ hands on her legs now, understanding her perfectly, moving with her as smoothly as they did on the dance floor, on the battlefield. They were one, and they were passion personified, even if her robes never rose higher than her ankles.
The feel of him there, his breath on her cheek, her hands on his legs, seemed to drive the Dementors into frenzy, and they began to approach in force. The water froze and the boat stilled its motion. Rabastan and Barty Jr. began to shake, though the boat could no longer do much but vibrate slightly, trapped in the ice.
She cackled and he howled, playing off each other, enjoying each other as they continued their audacious display. The Dementors approached, Rabastan and Barty Jr. finally screaming in fear as the aurors stared at she and Rodolphus.
“Your darkness lights my way,” she whispered to him, lover’s words spoken softly.
“And your strength in shadow has ever inspired me,” his lips kissing her cheek.
It was only then that the Dementors’ proximity began to have its effect. She pulled closer to him; he tightened his grip. She refused to cry out, to show those loathsome beasts in front of her that they could elicit such sounds from her. Rodolphus clenched his teeth, his jaw muscles quivering against hers as they fought the fear together, darkness closing in against their shivering forms.
All too long after it began, she felt warmth. The boat began to move again and as she opened her eyes, not having realized she’d shut them against the world, she could see the Dementors were held at bay again. The aurors seemed to be sharing some private joke, though what she could only imagine. If they were laughing about her, they would die, slowly, when He returned and she stood there at His side, her power returned to her.
Before her now loomed the fortress she would reside in, a mockery of a holiday for the four of His most loyal. Rodolphus nodded, against her, and she wondered briefly if his brother had whispered something to him, something she hadn’t heard. If he had, then perhaps the younger man was wasted in Azkaban, just as she and Rodolphus were. Of Barty Jr., she could only feel pity. He was too young, too weak to survive the world, any world.
The Dementors crept closer as the boats approached the shore, feeding off the despair the fortress itself inspired. Squeezing Rodolphus’ hand briefly, surreptitiously, she straightened her shoulders. She was Bellatrix, born a Black and married into Lestrange. She would not be broken. Bring what they could, what they dared, she would not be trapped here forever, and then, the celebration would be sweet.