Elle!Fic | Dark Heart Silhouette | Draco/Ginny, Draco/Astoria | Adult
Title: Dark Heart Silhouette (6/12)
Author: Elle, aka elle_blessing
Characters: Draco/Ginny, Draco/Astoria
Rating: R
Word Count: ~28,000
Summary: In a world where Voldemort won the Second War, Draco finds himself in the fortuitous position of being one of the Dark Lord's favored. The love of two women will drive him to question who he is and what he has become, but it is betrayal that set in motion the beginning of the end.
Disclaimer: Harry Potter is JKR’s sandbox, not mine.
Author’s Notes: This was written for the 2010 round of dracobigbang. I have taken the liberty of making Daphne and Astoria cousins instead of sisters, and Michael Corner is Astoria’s half-brother through marriage. Also, endless thanks go to fiery_flamingo, amazonmink, goddessvicky & mugglechump for helping me beta this story to make it fit for public consumption.
Chapters: Prologue | I | II | III | IV | V | VI | VII | VIII | IX | X | XI
@FanFic.net
Chapter 5
Several months passed and Astoria settled into a pattern. She had her own rooms and Draco had yet to call on her for wifely duties. He and his father were rarely in the manor and for the first time in years, she found herself with the freedom to do as she pleased.
It was disconcerting. Part of her wanted to indulge in this seeming escape fully, but it was too easy. She was too comfortable.
Something was obviously amiss.
She'd known from the beginning that nothing was ever as it seemed, especially here, but it was getting easier to forget that she was to be wary and watchful, suspicious. Draco and Lucius were courteous and respectful - the embodiment of a genteel member of the peerage, something her uncle could take notes on, she thought sourly. Though she had been somewhat resistant to it at first, she had taken on the care and running of Malfoy Manor and the estates. Also, her company had been sought before, but invitations had poured in for Mistress Malfoy's presence at tea parties and other balls and galas.
It'd been all too easy to languish in the freedom of movement, to have some control over something, anything, even as simple as preparing the week's menu and overseeing the slight renovations to her rooms. It was difficult to remember this was all given for a reason, one she knew was likely detrimental to her person and her brother, but her excuses about feeling out this new regime for information that might be helpful to Michael had turned into something she grudgingly enjoyed.
It was just lovely not to fear the back of someone's hand for wanting to visit anyone, or for insisting on anything at all.
Astoria knew it was a lie. It had to be. That Draco hadn't asked for her to come to his rooms was truth enough of the fact. She half suspected he had someone on the side. Why such a thought should put a delicate frown on her brow, she wasn't entirely sure. She didn't care what he did; he was a spy into her life and the longer he was preoccupied by another, the better.
She might be able to find out something that would be helpful to Michael, to Ginny and Roger and Luna. There was so few of them left now and she could only hope those were still well. It'd been more months than she cared to think on since her brother had been able to safely get word to her. That she even enjoyed her place at Malfoy Manor, even a little bit, made her sick sometimes. Michael and so many others she cared for were still on the run, scared for their lives every day, hunted.
Bringing her teacup to her lips, Astoria took a delicate sip from the china cup. The sun was trying to shine through the clouds, but in the solarium, it was yet bright and cheery, such a room she would never have thought Malfoy Manor to house. As she glanced about at the walls of windows, Astoria had the resigned realization that she, too, was hunted. The entrapments were just more lovely, comfortable and lulling.
Holding the tiny china cup in one hand then, Astoria held her left hand out, brown eyes thoughtfully intent on the ostentatious emerald upon her finger. Draco hadn't said if it meant anything and she hadn't studied her wedding ring overly much, but she could tell it was old, likely an heirloom.
Her ball and chain.
"It was my mother's," Draco said from his haunt in the double doors.
He was used to being quiet, of not announcing his presence until he was ready; it was much easier to stumble upon information that way. It likely wasn't something he needed to do in his own home when no one was about but Astoria and the elves, but it was habit. And besides, he might find her doing something that would be reportable to Voldemort.
That he'd nothing to give the Dark Lord was a cause for concern on his own part, for his own safety and the security of his standing in the new regime, but he found himself more reluctant as time passed to really look for anything that might incriminate her. That he'd been particularly wont to busy himself outside the manor had nothing to do with the fact that he was avoiding her and the inevitable end to this affair.
Or whatever it was he found himself in. Married to a damned woman.
Married to a delicately lovely, damned woman, he corrected himself as he stepped into the solarium. Her eyes were widened slightly, startled at his sudden presence. He'd time to study her at length while standing in the door, but his canny mercury gaze flicked over her features, from the large dark eyes that dominated her face, the long dark lashes. Her lips were slightly parted, a subtle pink that caught the blushing hues in her pale skin. Dark hair slid over her shoulder as she shifted, and Draco's gaze followed the silky curl until it came to rest on her back.
"And my great-grandmother's before her," he added as he came to the chaise lounge she was perched upon. "It suits you."
"It swallows my hand," she countered, dark eyes following him as he seated himself at the end of the settee. Her heart was still rabbiting in her chest from the suddenness of his presence, entirely unexpected at this time of day, even more startling given her prior line of thought.
"My mother said there was no such thing as a gem too large for a woman bred to wear such lovely things," Draco said, gray eyes bright as he reached out to catch her hand, hold up the ring in question for both to plainly see.
He'd not taken particular care in selecting which ring to give her. There'd been many heirlooms to choose from, but the ring his mother had worn had called to him. He missed her, to be sure, but why he'd brought one of her prized possessions into such an assignment, he wasn't sure. Narcissa would not approve of what he was doing; marrying a pureblood woman with the intention of betraying her to the Dark Lord when he was finally able to pry something from her that would bring her half-blood brother and whoever he was with, to the surface.
The ring did suit her though, despite how large it looked on her delicate, fine-boned hand.
Astoria held still, dark eyes flicking from where his thumb was brushing lightly over her knuckles, to his face. His gaze was distant, thoughts obviously somewhere. On his mother perhaps? This was the first he'd mentioned her, but it was obvious in the timbre of his voice that he cared for her. Mayhap that was why she was dead. Astoria might be a cynic now, but everyone she had cared about was dead, or wished it by someone.
Despite her tumbling thoughts, however, she was focused on Draco, on the nuances of his face, the soft, warm brush of his thumb. He was terribly hard to read.
"Did you love your mother very much then?" she asked, both galled at her own audacity and intensely curious about what he would say, what it might reveal about this man who was her husband.
Draco's gaze shot up to hers. "Yes."
The very lack of hesitation or calculation startled Astoria yet again and her hand tightened around his slightly. "I loved mine as well, and my father."
"You called him your 'papa'," Draco said as he watched her, eyes flicking from her lips to her doe eyes. So big and dark, it was easy to think she was an ingénue, innocent and untouched, but he'd seen the chocolate sparked on their wedding day, spiced with anger and the slide of emotions.
"Yes," she said, echoing his simple statement. It felt too personal, these words, few as they were, and Astoria wasn't half sure she regretted asking after his mother.
Draco knew little of the Greengrass family, save the interactions he'd had with Daphne in school. There had been several meetings with the blonde’s father leading up to the wedding, and the briefings, but Draco was not overly familiar with the family despite how old they were, noble as his own. What he did know was that they were generationally neutral; Switzerland. Until now. Devon Greengrass was firmly with the Dark Lord and grasping for whatever power and standing he could find.
It was then he realized he was still holding her hand and gently set it back down in her lap, gaze lingering on her ring a long moment before he caught her eyes. "A close friend of mine is hosting an unconventional gala on All Hallow's Eve and our presence is requested."
"Meaning we are to go," she surmised aloud as she set her teacup aside. Such things were not surprising, nor did they overly bother her. Draco hadn't asked much of her, not even the pleasure of her body; she could go to a gala, unconventional or no. "May I ask after who this friend is and what attire I should acquire? I have not seen any invitations in the post that would indicate an unorthodox approach."
Draco's lips curled ever so slightly. She was dainty and soft, delicately beautiful and she seemed so very breakable. He'd no doubt that this little kitten could be broken, but she had her claws and there was a well of strength. It still managed to alternately surprise and amuse him when he'd the pleasure of watching her shoulders shift back slightly, steel sliding down her spine as she fortified herself, the slight uptilt of her chin as if it was all below her anyways.
So very much like his mother.
"Pansy. You might remember her by the surname of Parkinson, but she has been married to Theodore Nott for over a year. They are hosting a soirée befitting our ancestry." The theme was so ridiculous and indecorous that Draco's mouth curled even more, a smirk dancing in his eyes now. Only Pansy could pull off such a blatant dismissal of propriety. "We are to be prepared to pull a spell from the bonfire, so to speak, to dance with the gods as they once did before the two worlds were irrevocably sundered."
Astoria's brow rose slightly. She knew of what he spoke; they'd all grown up with the same stories, grimoires in whose earliest spells required full nudity under a blue moon, wanton dances around a bonfire made of ash wood and the cured bones of a black cat.
Saying that it was merely unconventional was putting lightly. Her lips twitched. "My uncle and cousin shall be invited, yes?"
"Everyone will be invited." He could see some sort of mischief in her brown eyes and he found himself anticipatory of her next words.
"Oh, how lovely. Shall we go naked then?" She wasn't quite able to reign in her mirth and the corner of her lip curled up. The thought of her uncle and up-tight cousin, along with a fair few of the stuffy dowagers she'd been subject to the last month in such a wanton environ made her just a little bit giddy. Simple pleasures, yes, but pleasures nonetheless.
Her words were surprising enough to prompt laughter and Draco shook his head slightly as he caught up her hand again. He pressed his lips to the large emerald, careful to avoid her skin, especially now that his mind was supplying him with images of her bare. He'd not yet thought of her in such a way. There was Ginny, and Draco had studiously avoided Astoria's rooms after the first night he'd caught her on their wedding day.
"Not naked, but I do believe you grasp the spirit of the event," he said then, eyes sliding up to hers as he smiled, something between a smirk and laughter. "You will prepare for us both?"
Astoria tipped her head, dark eyes flicking from his grasp of her hand to his eyes. They were darker than she'd seen them yet and just as unreadable as ever. The smirking smile he was aiming at her did odd things to her though, and it took her long moments before she dipped her head in acknowledgment. "I shall ensure that we are both clothed in the proper attire, as little as that may be."
"Thank you." It was good. People were asking anyways. They'd done very few outings together and no galas or balls. This would be a good place to show that nothing was amiss, to prove to the Dark Lord and his colleagues that he was taking the necessary steps to ensure her trust and companionship.
It was easy to be around her, he realized. He'd known this from the night they had married, the spark and easy volley they'd had, but not until this moment did it formulate into a complete thought. He liked her. How was he to do what he was commissioned to if he cared for her, even a little bit? There had been reasons why he had stayed away.
Astoria watched his features shutter and part of her railed against it. It'd been so long since she'd been able to share a smile with anyone. The other part of her was irritated; at him for leaving her, even while in the same room, and at herself for caring.
"This is an odd time for you to be here," Astoria commented then, not much liking anything she was feeling at the moment and hoping her prompt might make him leave her to her distress.
"Yes, and I am to be gone once more. I wanted to let you know about Pansy's invitation." And he'd had the strongest urge to see her reaction to it. That it pleased him, in the end, helped nothing.
"I'll see you this evening." He stood then, his black cloak swirling about his legs. The fabric was rich and luxurious, complimented his three piece suit perfectly; another of his mother’s legacies. Too many memories of her this day, too many recalled when he was in Astoria's presence.
Turning on his heel then, Draco strode from the room and disappeared through the arching doorway into the darkness of the main house.
Astoria was paying attention now, and this time she felt the wards shift as he Apparated away. She was Mistress of Malfoy Manor - for a little while, at least - and though some things were coming easily, others were not. Knowing when one of the men arrived was important though; she could not be caught unaware, especially if Michael was ever able to get word to her.
The thoughts of her brother, mixed with her irritation at Draco and herself, only served to make her restless and upset, and she struck out, the back of her hand connecting with the tiny teacup she'd been drinking from. The china went flying before shattering when it hit the floor and angry tears filled her eyes.
"Mm-mm-ma-Mistress?" The voices was hesitant, scared.
Astoria sighed.
"Please clean up the shards and do be careful not to cut yourself." The house elf still look terrified, confused at her kind words and about to say more, but Astoria was used to the deplorable state of the elves. Her uncle's were the same way. It made her wonder what was truly beneath the surface of the men she lived with.
Holding up a hand, she shook her head. "No arguments today, Fanny. Just be careful as you clean."
Fanny blinked at her with big, bulbous eyes and pulled at her ears, but went about her task as she cried to herself about how the Mistress was too kind.
Astoria's dark gaze shifted to the grounds outside the windows, the few flowers left straining for the weak sunlight of fall. All had been left to her and she'd been miserable at everything thus far, everything but keeping her counsel. Her father's manor had been confiscated by her uncle despite her right of inheritance, her marriage was a sham, though the exact specifics of how she wasn't sure yet, and she'd really learned nothing that would be of any help to anyone in bringing these evil men down and making the world better again, safer.
Her dark eyes were glassy and she wiped at the tear which escaped. "What am I to do, Michael? What wisdom would you have for me?"
There was no answer though, only the ominous chime of the grand clock as it struck the hour and echoed through estate, through her very bones. Time was passing, slipping away, and there was nothing she could do about it.
Chapter 6
Author: Elle, aka elle_blessing
Characters: Draco/Ginny, Draco/Astoria
Rating: R
Word Count: ~28,000
Summary: In a world where Voldemort won the Second War, Draco finds himself in the fortuitous position of being one of the Dark Lord's favored. The love of two women will drive him to question who he is and what he has become, but it is betrayal that set in motion the beginning of the end.
Disclaimer: Harry Potter is JKR’s sandbox, not mine.
Author’s Notes: This was written for the 2010 round of dracobigbang. I have taken the liberty of making Daphne and Astoria cousins instead of sisters, and Michael Corner is Astoria’s half-brother through marriage. Also, endless thanks go to fiery_flamingo, amazonmink, goddessvicky & mugglechump for helping me beta this story to make it fit for public consumption.
Chapters: Prologue | I | II | III | IV | V | VI | VII | VIII | IX | X | XI
@FanFic.net
Chapter 5
Several months passed and Astoria settled into a pattern. She had her own rooms and Draco had yet to call on her for wifely duties. He and his father were rarely in the manor and for the first time in years, she found herself with the freedom to do as she pleased.
It was disconcerting. Part of her wanted to indulge in this seeming escape fully, but it was too easy. She was too comfortable.
Something was obviously amiss.
She'd known from the beginning that nothing was ever as it seemed, especially here, but it was getting easier to forget that she was to be wary and watchful, suspicious. Draco and Lucius were courteous and respectful - the embodiment of a genteel member of the peerage, something her uncle could take notes on, she thought sourly. Though she had been somewhat resistant to it at first, she had taken on the care and running of Malfoy Manor and the estates. Also, her company had been sought before, but invitations had poured in for Mistress Malfoy's presence at tea parties and other balls and galas.
It'd been all too easy to languish in the freedom of movement, to have some control over something, anything, even as simple as preparing the week's menu and overseeing the slight renovations to her rooms. It was difficult to remember this was all given for a reason, one she knew was likely detrimental to her person and her brother, but her excuses about feeling out this new regime for information that might be helpful to Michael had turned into something she grudgingly enjoyed.
It was just lovely not to fear the back of someone's hand for wanting to visit anyone, or for insisting on anything at all.
Astoria knew it was a lie. It had to be. That Draco hadn't asked for her to come to his rooms was truth enough of the fact. She half suspected he had someone on the side. Why such a thought should put a delicate frown on her brow, she wasn't entirely sure. She didn't care what he did; he was a spy into her life and the longer he was preoccupied by another, the better.
She might be able to find out something that would be helpful to Michael, to Ginny and Roger and Luna. There was so few of them left now and she could only hope those were still well. It'd been more months than she cared to think on since her brother had been able to safely get word to her. That she even enjoyed her place at Malfoy Manor, even a little bit, made her sick sometimes. Michael and so many others she cared for were still on the run, scared for their lives every day, hunted.
Bringing her teacup to her lips, Astoria took a delicate sip from the china cup. The sun was trying to shine through the clouds, but in the solarium, it was yet bright and cheery, such a room she would never have thought Malfoy Manor to house. As she glanced about at the walls of windows, Astoria had the resigned realization that she, too, was hunted. The entrapments were just more lovely, comfortable and lulling.
Holding the tiny china cup in one hand then, Astoria held her left hand out, brown eyes thoughtfully intent on the ostentatious emerald upon her finger. Draco hadn't said if it meant anything and she hadn't studied her wedding ring overly much, but she could tell it was old, likely an heirloom.
Her ball and chain.
"It was my mother's," Draco said from his haunt in the double doors.
He was used to being quiet, of not announcing his presence until he was ready; it was much easier to stumble upon information that way. It likely wasn't something he needed to do in his own home when no one was about but Astoria and the elves, but it was habit. And besides, he might find her doing something that would be reportable to Voldemort.
That he'd nothing to give the Dark Lord was a cause for concern on his own part, for his own safety and the security of his standing in the new regime, but he found himself more reluctant as time passed to really look for anything that might incriminate her. That he'd been particularly wont to busy himself outside the manor had nothing to do with the fact that he was avoiding her and the inevitable end to this affair.
Or whatever it was he found himself in. Married to a damned woman.
Married to a delicately lovely, damned woman, he corrected himself as he stepped into the solarium. Her eyes were widened slightly, startled at his sudden presence. He'd time to study her at length while standing in the door, but his canny mercury gaze flicked over her features, from the large dark eyes that dominated her face, the long dark lashes. Her lips were slightly parted, a subtle pink that caught the blushing hues in her pale skin. Dark hair slid over her shoulder as she shifted, and Draco's gaze followed the silky curl until it came to rest on her back.
"And my great-grandmother's before her," he added as he came to the chaise lounge she was perched upon. "It suits you."
"It swallows my hand," she countered, dark eyes following him as he seated himself at the end of the settee. Her heart was still rabbiting in her chest from the suddenness of his presence, entirely unexpected at this time of day, even more startling given her prior line of thought.
"My mother said there was no such thing as a gem too large for a woman bred to wear such lovely things," Draco said, gray eyes bright as he reached out to catch her hand, hold up the ring in question for both to plainly see.
He'd not taken particular care in selecting which ring to give her. There'd been many heirlooms to choose from, but the ring his mother had worn had called to him. He missed her, to be sure, but why he'd brought one of her prized possessions into such an assignment, he wasn't sure. Narcissa would not approve of what he was doing; marrying a pureblood woman with the intention of betraying her to the Dark Lord when he was finally able to pry something from her that would bring her half-blood brother and whoever he was with, to the surface.
The ring did suit her though, despite how large it looked on her delicate, fine-boned hand.
Astoria held still, dark eyes flicking from where his thumb was brushing lightly over her knuckles, to his face. His gaze was distant, thoughts obviously somewhere. On his mother perhaps? This was the first he'd mentioned her, but it was obvious in the timbre of his voice that he cared for her. Mayhap that was why she was dead. Astoria might be a cynic now, but everyone she had cared about was dead, or wished it by someone.
Despite her tumbling thoughts, however, she was focused on Draco, on the nuances of his face, the soft, warm brush of his thumb. He was terribly hard to read.
"Did you love your mother very much then?" she asked, both galled at her own audacity and intensely curious about what he would say, what it might reveal about this man who was her husband.
Draco's gaze shot up to hers. "Yes."
The very lack of hesitation or calculation startled Astoria yet again and her hand tightened around his slightly. "I loved mine as well, and my father."
"You called him your 'papa'," Draco said as he watched her, eyes flicking from her lips to her doe eyes. So big and dark, it was easy to think she was an ingénue, innocent and untouched, but he'd seen the chocolate sparked on their wedding day, spiced with anger and the slide of emotions.
"Yes," she said, echoing his simple statement. It felt too personal, these words, few as they were, and Astoria wasn't half sure she regretted asking after his mother.
Draco knew little of the Greengrass family, save the interactions he'd had with Daphne in school. There had been several meetings with the blonde’s father leading up to the wedding, and the briefings, but Draco was not overly familiar with the family despite how old they were, noble as his own. What he did know was that they were generationally neutral; Switzerland. Until now. Devon Greengrass was firmly with the Dark Lord and grasping for whatever power and standing he could find.
It was then he realized he was still holding her hand and gently set it back down in her lap, gaze lingering on her ring a long moment before he caught her eyes. "A close friend of mine is hosting an unconventional gala on All Hallow's Eve and our presence is requested."
"Meaning we are to go," she surmised aloud as she set her teacup aside. Such things were not surprising, nor did they overly bother her. Draco hadn't asked much of her, not even the pleasure of her body; she could go to a gala, unconventional or no. "May I ask after who this friend is and what attire I should acquire? I have not seen any invitations in the post that would indicate an unorthodox approach."
Draco's lips curled ever so slightly. She was dainty and soft, delicately beautiful and she seemed so very breakable. He'd no doubt that this little kitten could be broken, but she had her claws and there was a well of strength. It still managed to alternately surprise and amuse him when he'd the pleasure of watching her shoulders shift back slightly, steel sliding down her spine as she fortified herself, the slight uptilt of her chin as if it was all below her anyways.
So very much like his mother.
"Pansy. You might remember her by the surname of Parkinson, but she has been married to Theodore Nott for over a year. They are hosting a soirée befitting our ancestry." The theme was so ridiculous and indecorous that Draco's mouth curled even more, a smirk dancing in his eyes now. Only Pansy could pull off such a blatant dismissal of propriety. "We are to be prepared to pull a spell from the bonfire, so to speak, to dance with the gods as they once did before the two worlds were irrevocably sundered."
Astoria's brow rose slightly. She knew of what he spoke; they'd all grown up with the same stories, grimoires in whose earliest spells required full nudity under a blue moon, wanton dances around a bonfire made of ash wood and the cured bones of a black cat.
Saying that it was merely unconventional was putting lightly. Her lips twitched. "My uncle and cousin shall be invited, yes?"
"Everyone will be invited." He could see some sort of mischief in her brown eyes and he found himself anticipatory of her next words.
"Oh, how lovely. Shall we go naked then?" She wasn't quite able to reign in her mirth and the corner of her lip curled up. The thought of her uncle and up-tight cousin, along with a fair few of the stuffy dowagers she'd been subject to the last month in such a wanton environ made her just a little bit giddy. Simple pleasures, yes, but pleasures nonetheless.
Her words were surprising enough to prompt laughter and Draco shook his head slightly as he caught up her hand again. He pressed his lips to the large emerald, careful to avoid her skin, especially now that his mind was supplying him with images of her bare. He'd not yet thought of her in such a way. There was Ginny, and Draco had studiously avoided Astoria's rooms after the first night he'd caught her on their wedding day.
"Not naked, but I do believe you grasp the spirit of the event," he said then, eyes sliding up to hers as he smiled, something between a smirk and laughter. "You will prepare for us both?"
Astoria tipped her head, dark eyes flicking from his grasp of her hand to his eyes. They were darker than she'd seen them yet and just as unreadable as ever. The smirking smile he was aiming at her did odd things to her though, and it took her long moments before she dipped her head in acknowledgment. "I shall ensure that we are both clothed in the proper attire, as little as that may be."
"Thank you." It was good. People were asking anyways. They'd done very few outings together and no galas or balls. This would be a good place to show that nothing was amiss, to prove to the Dark Lord and his colleagues that he was taking the necessary steps to ensure her trust and companionship.
It was easy to be around her, he realized. He'd known this from the night they had married, the spark and easy volley they'd had, but not until this moment did it formulate into a complete thought. He liked her. How was he to do what he was commissioned to if he cared for her, even a little bit? There had been reasons why he had stayed away.
Astoria watched his features shutter and part of her railed against it. It'd been so long since she'd been able to share a smile with anyone. The other part of her was irritated; at him for leaving her, even while in the same room, and at herself for caring.
"This is an odd time for you to be here," Astoria commented then, not much liking anything she was feeling at the moment and hoping her prompt might make him leave her to her distress.
"Yes, and I am to be gone once more. I wanted to let you know about Pansy's invitation." And he'd had the strongest urge to see her reaction to it. That it pleased him, in the end, helped nothing.
"I'll see you this evening." He stood then, his black cloak swirling about his legs. The fabric was rich and luxurious, complimented his three piece suit perfectly; another of his mother’s legacies. Too many memories of her this day, too many recalled when he was in Astoria's presence.
Turning on his heel then, Draco strode from the room and disappeared through the arching doorway into the darkness of the main house.
Astoria was paying attention now, and this time she felt the wards shift as he Apparated away. She was Mistress of Malfoy Manor - for a little while, at least - and though some things were coming easily, others were not. Knowing when one of the men arrived was important though; she could not be caught unaware, especially if Michael was ever able to get word to her.
The thoughts of her brother, mixed with her irritation at Draco and herself, only served to make her restless and upset, and she struck out, the back of her hand connecting with the tiny teacup she'd been drinking from. The china went flying before shattering when it hit the floor and angry tears filled her eyes.
"Mm-mm-ma-Mistress?" The voices was hesitant, scared.
Astoria sighed.
"Please clean up the shards and do be careful not to cut yourself." The house elf still look terrified, confused at her kind words and about to say more, but Astoria was used to the deplorable state of the elves. Her uncle's were the same way. It made her wonder what was truly beneath the surface of the men she lived with.
Holding up a hand, she shook her head. "No arguments today, Fanny. Just be careful as you clean."
Fanny blinked at her with big, bulbous eyes and pulled at her ears, but went about her task as she cried to herself about how the Mistress was too kind.
Astoria's dark gaze shifted to the grounds outside the windows, the few flowers left straining for the weak sunlight of fall. All had been left to her and she'd been miserable at everything thus far, everything but keeping her counsel. Her father's manor had been confiscated by her uncle despite her right of inheritance, her marriage was a sham, though the exact specifics of how she wasn't sure yet, and she'd really learned nothing that would be of any help to anyone in bringing these evil men down and making the world better again, safer.
Her dark eyes were glassy and she wiped at the tear which escaped. "What am I to do, Michael? What wisdom would you have for me?"
There was no answer though, only the ominous chime of the grand clock as it struck the hour and echoed through estate, through her very bones. Time was passing, slipping away, and there was nothing she could do about it.
Chapter 6