I've been gone for a frickin week and whilst I was I actually wrote at least 9 new fics for Bellatrix and Rodolphus. D: No net for 8 days. Oh well. I hope it doesn't get redundant. Meh. This is a sequel to 'I Don't Care'. Somewhat.
Disclaimer : I love them both. I love Bellatrix. Roddy is awesome. And yeah. I don't own 'em.
Bellatrix had sat by herself beside the window, one pale and gloved hand propped on the sill as she looked out onto the fields. She was not a witch who enjoyed watching the scenery, because for her, every beautiful landmark, every beautiful place was something that she could surely destroy. Because beauty does not last forever. But she had to give it in for Rodolphus. He chose the location for their "unaware-to-pitiful-and-pathetic-Muggles house".
She heaved a sigh and cocked her head sideways. It was over; she knew it was over when everything had stopped, from touches to words to everything at all. Their connection, the line linking them to each other was, if not already, on the verge of breaking.
She had just to close her eyes and remember the times they had shared with each other. The first glance, first greeting, first smile, the laugh she had loved, their first kiss...and the look on his face when she'd said yes. It seemed like a long time ago, as if another person had lived through it.
From the circumstances at present, she couldn't believe that they had really happened. What really happened? She found herself asking, what happened that they had suddenly shattered? Broken into pieces? Her heart not in two but in a thousand pieces? Pieces he could not pick up and she not mend.
The Dark Lord. She did not know, of course, why he would've planned to kill an innocent baby boy. She was not soft-hearted, but a child, yes, a child. Beyond evil, Voldemort was, killing a little boy. A boy who would have probably had a lot to do when he came of age...but the feeling was hallow. Imaging herself, pale, beautiful, dark-eyed and curly-haired Bellatrix Lestrange standing under a peach tree, holding a beautiful baby boy in her arms, his smile dazzling even for a child and then the sparkle in his eyes...his brown eyes that were so much like his father...if only she possessed such a thing. If only she had a child.
But then she was jerked out of her thoughts when the front door clicked open. Of course, anyone who wanted to enter their house (for she could not think of it as a home...where was the place where everyone under the roof understood each other?) would have to go through the front door, nobody could apparate inside it.
She looked over her shoulder and saw a mess of slightly curled brown hair, and eyes that seemed to glint under the handsomely stray hairs. Rodolphus stepped forward, his wand out. It hurt Bellatrix that he would think she would attack him – he made a twirling motion with it and in his hand fell a beautiful bouquet of red roses. She didn't know when but she had gotten to her feet.
Rodolphus looked up at her, smiling slightly – his smile was simply bright – he tucked his wand back into his robe and stepped towards her. He offered the flowers to her, she took it, hesitantly at first, and looked up at him questioningly. She fumbled with the violet silk ribbon that kept the flowers tied together and looked straight into his eyes.
He inclined his head the slightest bit at her direction and he spread his arms, as if in surrender, but Bellatrix understood. The flowers dropping to the marble-stone floor, she ran up to him and hugged him tightly, her hands locking around him and his in her. The intensity of her hug almost sent him out of his balance but he quickly regained it.
It was just like that night. When he took her out to dinner – he knew she wasn't that sort of woman, but it felt ceremonial – and took out the ring. She had laughed, of course, when he fumbled around and dropped it into the goblet half-poured with Firewhisky. He had grinned sheepishly, the smile dazzling her all the same, and – for the first time in his life, forgetting he was a wizard – took the ring out of the drink. She was still giggling and had also found the act quite amusing as well.
He had looked down, now afraid that his chances were slim. But she had composed her face into a smile that only lucky people could see. She had offered her slim hand for him to take and he had slipped the ring into her finger. He was really light headed that time because he had forgotten to say, 'Will you marry me?' but all the same, he stood up. She had thrown herself at him, the hug intense and had breathed into his ear the word that would've ended his life because of the happiness he had felt at that time: Yes.
In his embrace Bellatrix Lestrange found herself, and found what she was truly looking for.