The Knights of Coins by Ina MacAllan (FIC, G, Gen)
Title: The Knights of Coins
Author: inamac
Type: Fiction
Word Count: 1150 words
Main Characters: Lucius Malfoy, Walberga Black
Card: Knight of Coins
Card Interpretation: An impassive, indifferent and stoical person, who does not always appreciate the feelings of others. Or a very traditional person who is clever in monetary affairs, patient and hardworking. The Knight of Coins has all kinds of projects going, focussed on improving his position and finances. He takes his work very seriously, and has long term plans, including what he wants to be, what he wants to do. This can cause him problems when it comes to handling the unexpected or improvising. If he didn't plan for it, he doesn't know what to do about it...
Rating: G
Disclaimer: Based on characters and situations created by JK Rowling.
Warnings: None (just conversation and threats)
Summary: It is 1979. Following the death of Cygnus Black Lucius Malfoy pays a visit to the Head of the Black family, Walberga, with a question...
Notes: This turned into two Knights of Coins facing off against each other. Which is what happens when you use half a dozen Tarot packs for research. Thanks to Ravenna for inviting me to play.
The Knights of Coins
The slow tick of the clock was the only sound in the room.
Lucius realised, for what felt like the hundredth time, that he was fiddling with the new and unfamiliar weight of the Malfoy signet ring on his right ring-finger, and folded his hands in his lap. It would not do to appear nervous in front of the matriarch of the Black family.
Opposite him Walberga sat bolt-upright in the high-backed chair. With one hand resting on her cane, the brass raven's head butting into her palm like a friendly cat, and the other occupied with a cigarette in a long, wand-like holder she looked like a tarot card image of the High Priestess. Which made Lucius even more nervous. Supplicant was not a position he liked.
"So," she said, when the clock had ticked out a full sixty seconds of his waiting eternity, "With my brother and my husband barely cold in their tombs what 'urgent business' has brought you to trouble my mourning?"
"I..." Again he found the bloodstone of the seal cool under his fingers, and this time he was reminded of his position. The two deaths, and the retirement of old Pollux Black to the family's American estate, had left Walberga the ruling matriarch of the Black family. As his own father's death had made him her equal. Among the pureblood families such hierarchies mattered. "Life must continue," he said, growing more confident. "The Line must continue. I have come to formally request your permission to make Narcissa Black my wife."
The wrinkled, reptilian eyes flicked to the tapestry on the wall. " I have already lost one niece to a conniving mudblood fortune-hunter, I will not allow the Black family name to be drawn any further into the mire."
He swallowed his retort. Anger would get him nowhere. "My father's demise left me in full control of the Malfoy vaults, properties and lands," he said, carefully neutral. "It is some time since any Malfoy was accused of being a fortune-hunter. And we have never been accused of the taint of Muggle blood."
She looked at him coldly. "That is true. And I am disinclined to believe the rumours about your great-grandfather and the veela, despite the visual evidence. A little veela blood might have put more backbone into Abraxus. Dragonpox, wasn't it? Not a noble death."
Again Lucius bit back his rejoinder. She was baiting him, and he was not going to abandon his dignity or his plans in the face of such provocation. When he had what he had come for safely in his grasp, that would be the time to revel in the pleasure of telling the old witch just what he thought of her. He had hoped not to play his trump card, but now he took the opportunity to do so with concealed delight. "No," he agreed, "It is not given to many of us to choose the manner of our deaths. Or our births."
She caught the stress on the last word and looked at him sharply. "Are you implying..." she began, and then broke off.
"I imply nothing." He spread his hands, now consciously drawing her attention to the ring and to the cut of his robes. Mourning robes, like hers, but far more expensive, lined with sable and clasped with jet. "I am offering an alliance. The Malfoy name, and the Malfoy riches, for the last pearl in the Black family crown."
She flicked the ash from her cigarette, the first movement she had made, and took a long drag. The scent was pungent and heady. "A pretty compliment, Mr Malfoy. A pearl with a piece of Malfoy grit at its heart, perhaps? Was this your plan to force my brother to approve of the match? His death must have come as a shock, that you have now to approach me." she waved aside his unvoiced protest, "Oh, don't deny it. Cygnus never did understand human nature, and certainly not that of his children. Tell me, " she expelled the smoke in a lazy curl that drifted on the still air of the room. "Why do you think he rejected your suit, when he all but threw Bellatrix at the Lestrange boy?"
"I don't know." That was honest. "The Malfoy name and lineage is at least as good as the Black one. And better than the Lestranges."
She leaned forward in her chair. "And the Malfoy loyalty, Lucius? Where does that lie? You have been seen at the Ministry, paying court to Muggle-lovers when your proper place is with your own kind, and those who would advance our cause. Why have you not joined Lord Voldemort?"
So that was the bottom line. He had hoped to avoid it. His father had been careful to avoid being drawn into the direct confrontation that he could see coming, as more and more of the influential pureblood families allied themselves with the mysterious and charismatic Lord Voldemort, and had advised caution. At least he could reply honesty. "I was never approached," he said.
She rose and paced across the room, pausing to look up at the clock. Two of the hands, blackened and bent, pointed to 'Dead', two to 'Abandoned' and one, with practical candour, to 'Plotting'. She gestured with the head of her cane. "Consider this an approach," she said. "There is a meeting tomorrow at three thirty at Flagley Hall. I recommend that you attend. And that you satisfy His Lordship that the cause will have the full support of the Malfoy family. After that," she turned and met his eyes, her own bright with malice, "I shall consider whether Narcissa's infant is to be born a Malfoy or a bastard."
Lucius rose, gathering the remnants of his dignity around him. It would not do, now, to show her how comprehensively she had beaten him. "I will be there," he said.
"Good." She did not turn as he made to leave, but her words stopped him on the threshold. "And Mr Malfoy, I recommend a visit to the Goblins first. Lord Voldemort expects his recruits to contribute to the cause, in cash or in kind. And I do not think that you are suited to the sort of battle that the Muggles would understand."
He could not let her have the last word. He nodded as he pulled up his hood. "Money," he agreed. "It all comes down to money in the end. I hope that your Lord Voldemort is worth it." He stepped out into the street, wishing that he had his own cane to emphasise his step. Well, he would call in at one of the shops on Diagon Alley on his way to the bank and order something suitable. He wondered how much cash he should take to this meeting. A hundred galleons should suffice. Narcissa, and a Malfoy heir were worth ten times the price.
The End
Author: inamac
Type: Fiction
Word Count: 1150 words
Main Characters: Lucius Malfoy, Walberga Black
Card: Knight of Coins
Card Interpretation: An impassive, indifferent and stoical person, who does not always appreciate the feelings of others. Or a very traditional person who is clever in monetary affairs, patient and hardworking. The Knight of Coins has all kinds of projects going, focussed on improving his position and finances. He takes his work very seriously, and has long term plans, including what he wants to be, what he wants to do. This can cause him problems when it comes to handling the unexpected or improvising. If he didn't plan for it, he doesn't know what to do about it...
Rating: G
Disclaimer: Based on characters and situations created by JK Rowling.
Warnings: None (just conversation and threats)
Summary: It is 1979. Following the death of Cygnus Black Lucius Malfoy pays a visit to the Head of the Black family, Walberga, with a question...
Notes: This turned into two Knights of Coins facing off against each other. Which is what happens when you use half a dozen Tarot packs for research. Thanks to Ravenna for inviting me to play.
The Knights of Coins
The slow tick of the clock was the only sound in the room.
Lucius realised, for what felt like the hundredth time, that he was fiddling with the new and unfamiliar weight of the Malfoy signet ring on his right ring-finger, and folded his hands in his lap. It would not do to appear nervous in front of the matriarch of the Black family.
Opposite him Walberga sat bolt-upright in the high-backed chair. With one hand resting on her cane, the brass raven's head butting into her palm like a friendly cat, and the other occupied with a cigarette in a long, wand-like holder she looked like a tarot card image of the High Priestess. Which made Lucius even more nervous. Supplicant was not a position he liked.
"So," she said, when the clock had ticked out a full sixty seconds of his waiting eternity, "With my brother and my husband barely cold in their tombs what 'urgent business' has brought you to trouble my mourning?"
"I..." Again he found the bloodstone of the seal cool under his fingers, and this time he was reminded of his position. The two deaths, and the retirement of old Pollux Black to the family's American estate, had left Walberga the ruling matriarch of the Black family. As his own father's death had made him her equal. Among the pureblood families such hierarchies mattered. "Life must continue," he said, growing more confident. "The Line must continue. I have come to formally request your permission to make Narcissa Black my wife."
The wrinkled, reptilian eyes flicked to the tapestry on the wall. " I have already lost one niece to a conniving mudblood fortune-hunter, I will not allow the Black family name to be drawn any further into the mire."
He swallowed his retort. Anger would get him nowhere. "My father's demise left me in full control of the Malfoy vaults, properties and lands," he said, carefully neutral. "It is some time since any Malfoy was accused of being a fortune-hunter. And we have never been accused of the taint of Muggle blood."
She looked at him coldly. "That is true. And I am disinclined to believe the rumours about your great-grandfather and the veela, despite the visual evidence. A little veela blood might have put more backbone into Abraxus. Dragonpox, wasn't it? Not a noble death."
Again Lucius bit back his rejoinder. She was baiting him, and he was not going to abandon his dignity or his plans in the face of such provocation. When he had what he had come for safely in his grasp, that would be the time to revel in the pleasure of telling the old witch just what he thought of her. He had hoped not to play his trump card, but now he took the opportunity to do so with concealed delight. "No," he agreed, "It is not given to many of us to choose the manner of our deaths. Or our births."
She caught the stress on the last word and looked at him sharply. "Are you implying..." she began, and then broke off.
"I imply nothing." He spread his hands, now consciously drawing her attention to the ring and to the cut of his robes. Mourning robes, like hers, but far more expensive, lined with sable and clasped with jet. "I am offering an alliance. The Malfoy name, and the Malfoy riches, for the last pearl in the Black family crown."
She flicked the ash from her cigarette, the first movement she had made, and took a long drag. The scent was pungent and heady. "A pretty compliment, Mr Malfoy. A pearl with a piece of Malfoy grit at its heart, perhaps? Was this your plan to force my brother to approve of the match? His death must have come as a shock, that you have now to approach me." she waved aside his unvoiced protest, "Oh, don't deny it. Cygnus never did understand human nature, and certainly not that of his children. Tell me, " she expelled the smoke in a lazy curl that drifted on the still air of the room. "Why do you think he rejected your suit, when he all but threw Bellatrix at the Lestrange boy?"
"I don't know." That was honest. "The Malfoy name and lineage is at least as good as the Black one. And better than the Lestranges."
She leaned forward in her chair. "And the Malfoy loyalty, Lucius? Where does that lie? You have been seen at the Ministry, paying court to Muggle-lovers when your proper place is with your own kind, and those who would advance our cause. Why have you not joined Lord Voldemort?"
So that was the bottom line. He had hoped to avoid it. His father had been careful to avoid being drawn into the direct confrontation that he could see coming, as more and more of the influential pureblood families allied themselves with the mysterious and charismatic Lord Voldemort, and had advised caution. At least he could reply honesty. "I was never approached," he said.
She rose and paced across the room, pausing to look up at the clock. Two of the hands, blackened and bent, pointed to 'Dead', two to 'Abandoned' and one, with practical candour, to 'Plotting'. She gestured with the head of her cane. "Consider this an approach," she said. "There is a meeting tomorrow at three thirty at Flagley Hall. I recommend that you attend. And that you satisfy His Lordship that the cause will have the full support of the Malfoy family. After that," she turned and met his eyes, her own bright with malice, "I shall consider whether Narcissa's infant is to be born a Malfoy or a bastard."
Lucius rose, gathering the remnants of his dignity around him. It would not do, now, to show her how comprehensively she had beaten him. "I will be there," he said.
"Good." She did not turn as he made to leave, but her words stopped him on the threshold. "And Mr Malfoy, I recommend a visit to the Goblins first. Lord Voldemort expects his recruits to contribute to the cause, in cash or in kind. And I do not think that you are suited to the sort of battle that the Muggles would understand."
He could not let her have the last word. He nodded as he pulled up his hood. "Money," he agreed. "It all comes down to money in the end. I hope that your Lord Voldemort is worth it." He stepped out into the street, wishing that he had his own cane to emphasise his step. Well, he would call in at one of the shops on Diagon Alley on his way to the bank and order something suitable. He wondered how much cash he should take to this meeting. A hundred galleons should suffice. Narcissa, and a Malfoy heir were worth ten times the price.
The End