Comments | fiery_inception: the Malfoy Masque, part deux

mirror_darkly in fiery_inception

the Malfoy Masque, part deux

Jan 06, 2007 19:00

Date: Twelfth Night! (January 6)
Location: Malfoy Manor, the 'Ballroom'
Characters Involved: those ready to dance!

( Yet Another Pithy and Relevant Quote Here )

character: percy weasley, status: complete, character: narcissa malfoy, character: severus snape, character: remus lupin, character: daphne greengrass, character: millicent bulstrode-morsus, status: open, event: holiday fluff, location: malfoy manor, character: aurin helm, character: montague morsus, character: lucius malfoy

Comments 60

precisely at 7:00 mirror_darkly January 6 2007, 11:05:44 UTC

Lucius (minus the crown and plus an elaborate mask) stood in the center of the room, awaiting his guests. A goblet of mullet wine was in his hand, and a half-smile sat on his lips.

Re: precisely at 7:00 mrsmalfoy6 January 7 2007, 01:28:13 UTC

Narcissa stood next to her husband, an elegant white and gold masque covering half of her face. She felt like royalty on the arm of her gorgeous husband. The Lord and Lady of the house.

Narcissa had been looking forward to this evening since Christmastime. Parties and social events were her forte, and so were clothes. The hours she had laboured over the perfect costume were well-spent, finally choosing a custom-made masque/dress combination. It was guaranteed that no one would be dressed as she was.

The guests were beginning to arrive. Before the entered the parlour, Narcissa stood on tip-toe and kissed Lucius on the cheek. "You look excellent, by the way," she whispered.

Re: precisely at 7:00 mirror_darkly January 8 2007, 06:58:25 UTC

Lucius's half-smile widened slightly, becoming more natural and less 'social.' He gently touched his wife's elaborately done hair as she kissed his cheek, doing his best not to dislodge any stray tendrils. "As do you, my love," he murmured back. "We shall certainly preside over this Masque as Master and Mistress Royal."

Re: precisely at 7:00 subtle_simmer January 7 2007, 04:09:04 UTC

As if anyone could fail to recognise the Malfoy duo, no matter what their attire. Severus arrived precisely on-time, which probably betrayed his identity just as well! He had never been 'fashionably' anything.

Deciding on what to wear had taken a good deal of effort. At first, he had been sorely tempted to do the obvious and be done with it. If he was to be called The Next Dark Lord, why not don his full Death Eater Regalia - which he still possessed, in spades - and have done with it?

However, that was not the point of a masque. The idea was to be something one was not.

So, he had allowed his lack of creativity to be inspired by Remus' frequent teasings, and had gone to a local Muggle drama studio and hired a suit of armour, though he'd insisted the tabbard be green instead of red. He rather thought the skull on the shield was a nice touch. He'd modified one of his Death Eater masks to be something more along the lines of the Phantom of the Opera - though to cover both eyes. Severus had always hated how the bloody thing had ( ... )

Thread 17

at 7:30 mirror_darkly January 6 2007, 11:06:23 UTC

At seven thirty precisely, the musicians arrived. They politely pushed their way through the crowd and headed toward the corner with their platform. In a concession to the fact that Medieval music was better to listen to than to dance to, the musicians had come prepared to play seventeenth-to-nineteenth century music. They began to take their instruments out of their cases. There were three first violinists, two second violinists, three violists, two cellists, and a bassist. After each instrument was out, they magicked the cases to disappear. They, then, began to tune and, with a nod from Lucius, eased people into dancing precisely at 7:45 with a slow waltz. When two little house elves ran by from the ‘games room,’ they stopped their music not a bit.

at 8:30 mirror_darkly January 6 2007, 11:06:44 UTC

Lucius made his way over to the raised platform and stepped up. He pushed back his mask to show his face and magicked his voice to be slightly amplified. Smiling socially, he said, “My friends. My friends! May I have your attention please. It is 8:30 and high time for the Twelfth Cake.” He made a sweeping gesture toward the door to his left (toward the kitchens), where an army of house elves staggered under the weight of a huge, ornate white cake decorated in elaborate swirls of purple, yellow, and green frosting and a delicate-looking, reinforced table to place it on ( ... )

Around 8:45-ish subtle_simmer January 29 2007, 06:10:07 UTC

((Continued from here.))

Musicians had again resumed their playing, as those who had completed their obligatory taste of cake - or chosen not to do so - were once again congregating near the dance area, expectantly.

Severus led Bellatrix to the dance floor with a confidence his adolescent self would never, ever have managed, nor even imagined he would ever be equal to accomplishing. His innate grace and many, many lessons grilled into him by his grandfather and even Narcissa, enabled him to move her gently into a sedate waltz without risk of the slightest embarrassment of his dancing skill.

Not that his heart was not racing faster than usual, but this was merely healthy fear and not the misery of adolescent, unrequited lust.

One would have to be a fool not to fear Bellatrix Lestrange and Severus was no fool!

Immensely grateful for the yards and yards of fabric of her dress which prevented anything like bodily closeness, he was still uncomfortably reminded of other times when she had been in physical proximity with him. Times ( ... )

Re: Around 8:45-ish la_morte_bella January 31 2007, 17:50:06 UTC

Even Bellatrix herself had been silently commending herself in her choice of costume. Rather, in the choice of her large dress, and the even larger underskirt. They might have easily been pressed down, but she would attempt no such thing. It was a plesant excuse to keep as far away from the miserable touch of Snape as one might.

She had agreed to dance, but touching him was another matter entirely.

"I have not a taste for sweet things." Bellatrix remarked coldly. There was an undeniable urge to be the one to lead in this dance. After all, she had always been the domineering one in their relationship. She would have liked for nothing more than to be pushing him around the dance floor. Submission was painful.

"But neither do you," she mentioned after a few moments. "Don't you prefer bitter?" The gentle upward curve of her lip would suggest at a smirk. If she was lucky, it would poke at him in just the right way to be bothered. It was, after all, the intention. She had seen the two parting in the parlour, and she knew Severus was ( ... )

Re: Around 8:45-ish subtle_simmer February 1 2007, 16:17:00 UTC

Severus snorted at her dig - if he preferred 'bitter', it was because that was all he had known the majority of his life - much of that in thanks to the woman now dancing with him! Not that she was remotely 'in his arms'. He was no more eager to have her held close to him than she was to be there. His hand rested very lightly at her waist, very proper, the picture-book image of the 'perfect' waltz posture - when one is performing the obligatory 'polite dance' with someone distasteful ( ... )

7:27 leadheart January 7 2007, 11:02:20 UTC

The journey to the Malfoys' had hardly been smooth and hassle free, for Daphne and her mother. Due to their dual status as tagged, collared and registered individuals, her mother (in her paranoid fashion) had elected it better to walk from a remote location than to arrive at the Malfoy Manor-house under any magical means. This had meant a good hour or so of tramping through fields, during which time Daphne lost her footing more than once, and managed to tear the bottom of her dress to shreds - not to mention muddy and dampen it.

When they finally arrived in the grounds of Malfoy Manor, Monica Greengrass yanked her daughter by the upper arm, away from the pool of light emanating from the entrance, and in to a shadowed area.

"Pathetic..." she hissed, her eyes dancing with rage behind an elaborate, yet entirely predictable mask. "We're late, because of you. What will they think? And look at your dress...look at yourself!" her voice intensified in pitch and vigor after every tense syllable, little flecks of spittle gathering on her ( ... )

Re: 7:27 mrsmalfoy6 January 7 2007, 17:39:58 UTC

It was almost 7:30. Narcissa knew the musicians were due to arrive anytime now, and she could hardly wait. Dancing was a pleasure for her, and being twirled around the room by Lucius made her feel like the most beautiful woman in the world. It would be just like old times, times when they were younger and balls and parties were what they lived for. Times before they had a son who had betrayed them. But tonight wasn't the night for thoughts like this, Narcissa reminded herself sharply ( ... )

Re: 7:27 mirror_darkly January 8 2007, 08:38:13 UTC

Lucius caught sight of the pair of women headed toward them--one dragging, the other stumbling along after, rather like a ship and a tugboat in reverse--and realized that they must be a mother-daughter pair. Unless he was mistaken, that would make them Mrs. and Daphne Greengrass. Almost without thinking, Lucius's eyes flicked briefly toward the young woman's ample decolletage. He was, after all, only human sometimes. But he schooled his eyes back upward as quickly as possible. She was just a little too young, and besides, he remembered his wife's flattering (for him) if sometimes confining tendency toward jealousy and did not want to start anything off--not when the Greengrasses might be of use to him in restarting the movement ( ... )

Re: 7:27 leadheart January 12 2007, 13:56:30 UTC

Monica Greengrass smiled congenially to Narcissa, bowing her head a little to acknowledge the other woman.

Daphne watched, with some amusement. The gesture of respect, courtesy - even admiration - seemed so genuine, yet she knew perfectly well that her mother disliked Narcissa Malfoy. How many times had she heard her ranting, vehemently, about how weak the other woman was. How incapable. Just a trophy wife, on the arm of her powerful husband.

She had vowed to Daphne that she had promised herself, when she married, never to become like that. And she had warned her daughter that if she thought for a second she would be 'safe' in a marriage - taken care of, looked after - she could think again.

'No daughter of mine...Whilst she mused, silently, Monica turned to Lucius, offering him the same courtesy, a nod, a small smile - though far more sincere ( ... )

Thread 10

7:45 mrs_morsus January 12 2007, 04:30:06 UTC

Millicent apparated to the nearest village in Wiltshire and taken a coach to Malfoy Manner. It would not do to arrive on foot, not in the elegant crystal studded heels that matched her French Court costume. It was in the style of the French Court, but she’s had it made up in a vibrant red colour. She had an elablorate dark wig of ornate curls piled high on her head and dripping elegantly down her shoulder and bodice, studded with crystals decorations, and a finely painted antique French fan that could conveniently hide the lower half of her face. The really fine thing about the enormous skirt on her dress was her ability to hide anything she wanted underneath her gown, and carry the evidence away. Not that Millicent had any such intent tonight, of course, although she did believe in being prepared for any eventuality that this exceptional night might bring ( ... )

Re: 7:45 mirror_darkly January 15 2007, 17:16:21 UTC

Lucius watched the elegant woman in the blood-red ball-gown glide into the room and could not help but think of his brush with death (Montague in the guise of Red Death, that is) not a half hour before. Their costumes could have been cut from the same brocade. On that, grantedly flimsey, thought alone, Lucius began to suspect that it was Millicent who strode toward them.

When she spoke to Narcissa, Lucius was certain of it. Lucius gently disentangled his arm from his wife's when Millicent paid hommage to the customs of royalty past, offering her hand for him to kiss. He loosely held the proffered hand at the edge of his own and inclined over it. He kissed the air just above her hand, carrying out the custom in a way to please his guest as well as neither invading her space nor giving Narcissa any reasons for jealousy ( ... )

Re: 7:45 mrs_morsus January 19 2007, 03:20:33 UTC

Millicent admired Lucius as he very lightly took her hand and didn’t come anywhere close to kissing it. Perfect, just like everything else about him, she thought as she lowered her fan to allow him a private glimpse of her face. He would be the last one to see it tonight. Then she very surreptitiously glanced backwards, hiding everything but her eyes to gaze on the spectre of a man entering behind her. His costume was completely concealing and she had no idea whom it might be, nor did she care. If Lucius had chosen this person, that was enough for her. Her fingers itched to retrieve her wand and get to it ( ... )