[round 1: siblings] i can be alone with you here
title: i can be alone with you here
fandom: harry potter
characters: bellatrix, narcissa
rating: pg (i'm probably being paranoid)
word count: 600
recipient: happyg_rl, who wanted bellatrix and narcissa, "the dark mark, pregnancy, forehead kiss"
summary: Bella takes two pieces of the apple pie. Cissa takes none.
note: sorry for being late, things happened :/ but here it is! the title i borrowed from buffy. i wanted this to be a sort of cheerful sibling story, but alas, the story got away from me, as stories are wont to do sometimes, and this is the result. i hope you'll like it.
You would have made a better wife for him, Narcissa says, as gentle with her voice as ever, as if she is worried her words will leave a mark on the delicate morning air in the sitting room of the Malfoy kingdom.
Bella's first reaction is to laugh (a laugh that is not gentle at all).
(She would have made a better wife for him.)
Cissa almost opens her mouth to say something, but then a house elf walks in with a platter of cakes and tea comes in, and sets the platter on the table between Bella and her. Bella watches the elf intently as it leaves the room, and if Narcissa had to guess, she would say Bella was thinking of setting it on fire -- but Bella is always thinking of setting things on fire.
Bella takes two pieces of the apple pie. Cissa takes none.
Bella stretches herself out on the sofa opposite to Narcissa and as her arm's above her head now, the black sleeve of her black dress obeys gravity, as everything sooner or later must and it falls and Narcissa can plainly see the mark on her sister's forearm.
When Narcissa forgets about the meaning of it, she almost doesn't have a problem with the mark on her sister's skin (her husband's skin as well, and some day, Narcissa thinks, with a tinge of something she would perhaps name fear if it was a polite word to use in her thoughts or outside of them; some day, it will be her child's skin). Certainly, it would be deemed highly inappropriate in certain circles, all the black audacity and frankness of it, it is inappropriate for the outside world and the public, but in Cissa's sitting room (and she is always just Cissa when Bella is with her, and never sure if Cissa is merely one half of her, or if it is the opposite and Cissa is her, and the Nar of her was simply made up), the room painted black and silver and the scent of old money and pure blood privilege inescapable in the air, Bella lies on the sofa with her black sleeve not covering her mark.
You should come visit me sometimes. Bella offers this on a regular basis, invites Cissa over and she is not sure what would happen if she agreed. Blood, carnage, and apple pies, most likely. Bella's always had a fondness for apple pies.
I'm pregnant, Cissa says in lieu of an answer.
Bella gets up then and the black silk of her floor length dress trails behind her as she walks towards Cissa. She does not ask for permission, because that is not what they are, her hands simply hover over Cissa's stomach for a moment, fingers stretched out, their tips tracing invisible circles in the air and then on Cissa's stomach.
He will make us all proud.
Her hands stand still now in some spot between Cissa's stomach and nowhere in particular and everywhere at once, and Bella leans over and places a kiss on Cissa's forehead. Narcissa tries not to look at her. She is certain there will be triumph in her eyes that she does not want to see there.
This is my child. My blood. I do not want for him to make someone proud. I want for him to live.
Bella's fingers twitch and she shakes her head and does not speak.
Bella sits herself on the sofa next to Cissa.
Bella tries to be still.
She does not say anything.
Cissa does not look at her.
fandom: harry potter
characters: bellatrix, narcissa
rating: pg (i'm probably being paranoid)
word count: 600
recipient: happyg_rl, who wanted bellatrix and narcissa, "the dark mark, pregnancy, forehead kiss"
summary: Bella takes two pieces of the apple pie. Cissa takes none.
note: sorry for being late, things happened :/ but here it is! the title i borrowed from buffy. i wanted this to be a sort of cheerful sibling story, but alas, the story got away from me, as stories are wont to do sometimes, and this is the result. i hope you'll like it.
You would have made a better wife for him, Narcissa says, as gentle with her voice as ever, as if she is worried her words will leave a mark on the delicate morning air in the sitting room of the Malfoy kingdom.
Bella's first reaction is to laugh (a laugh that is not gentle at all).
(She would have made a better wife for him.)
Cissa almost opens her mouth to say something, but then a house elf walks in with a platter of cakes and tea comes in, and sets the platter on the table between Bella and her. Bella watches the elf intently as it leaves the room, and if Narcissa had to guess, she would say Bella was thinking of setting it on fire -- but Bella is always thinking of setting things on fire.
Bella takes two pieces of the apple pie. Cissa takes none.
Bella stretches herself out on the sofa opposite to Narcissa and as her arm's above her head now, the black sleeve of her black dress obeys gravity, as everything sooner or later must and it falls and Narcissa can plainly see the mark on her sister's forearm.
When Narcissa forgets about the meaning of it, she almost doesn't have a problem with the mark on her sister's skin (her husband's skin as well, and some day, Narcissa thinks, with a tinge of something she would perhaps name fear if it was a polite word to use in her thoughts or outside of them; some day, it will be her child's skin). Certainly, it would be deemed highly inappropriate in certain circles, all the black audacity and frankness of it, it is inappropriate for the outside world and the public, but in Cissa's sitting room (and she is always just Cissa when Bella is with her, and never sure if Cissa is merely one half of her, or if it is the opposite and Cissa is her, and the Nar of her was simply made up), the room painted black and silver and the scent of old money and pure blood privilege inescapable in the air, Bella lies on the sofa with her black sleeve not covering her mark.
You should come visit me sometimes. Bella offers this on a regular basis, invites Cissa over and she is not sure what would happen if she agreed. Blood, carnage, and apple pies, most likely. Bella's always had a fondness for apple pies.
I'm pregnant, Cissa says in lieu of an answer.
Bella gets up then and the black silk of her floor length dress trails behind her as she walks towards Cissa. She does not ask for permission, because that is not what they are, her hands simply hover over Cissa's stomach for a moment, fingers stretched out, their tips tracing invisible circles in the air and then on Cissa's stomach.
He will make us all proud.
Her hands stand still now in some spot between Cissa's stomach and nowhere in particular and everywhere at once, and Bella leans over and places a kiss on Cissa's forehead. Narcissa tries not to look at her. She is certain there will be triumph in her eyes that she does not want to see there.
This is my child. My blood. I do not want for him to make someone proud. I want for him to live.
Bella's fingers twitch and she shakes her head and does not speak.
Bella sits herself on the sofa next to Cissa.
Bella tries to be still.
She does not say anything.
Cissa does not look at her.