A/N: This was written for several competitions and challenges on the HPFC:
- Mrs. Bella Riddle's The Ultimate Death Eater Contest round 2, with the character Bellatrix and the prompt "Sometimes you have to choose a side."
- ladyoftheknightley's School Subjects Competition: Defense Against The Dark Arts (write about the first/second war from the PoV of someone from OotP/DA or a Death Eater)
- Owluvr's Honeydukes Competition: Blood-flavoured Lollipops (write a fic about a character causing or witnessing someone's death)
- Aenaris' Cross Gen Boot Camp with the prompt "substitute"
Disclaimer: nope, I'm not JKR.
The screams of men and women filled her ears. She looked up briefly to see the Dark Lord sending Crucio's towards his victim. There was a certain carelessness in the way he rolled his wand between his fingers. In the dead of night, she longed for those fingers to touch her like a lover. He did not call for her often, but when he did, she never wanted it to stop.
Beneath her, her victim steered and she tore her gaze away from her Lord. "Oh no, you don't," she hissed angrily and twirled her wand. The man started to convulse, his body was shaking and he was trying to beg for mercy.
"Silence!" Another Crucio followed and the man writhed in pain, screaming in agony. Blood was beginning to seep from his nose and a thin layer of foam was forming in the corner of his mouth.
"You are only a filthy blood traitor. I should not even be wasting my time on you." With a flick a flash of green left her wand, killing the man instantly. She stepped away from the body, looking for other victims to torture.
It had been a raid like they hadn't had in weeks. Avery had reported a Pureblood family hiding Muggles, and they had gone in to end it once and for all. The man Bellatrix had tortured was the father of the family, who had been bound and made to watch the Dark Lord torture his wife and children. He had screamed for their lives, screamed for them to let his family go. But he had been forced to watch them die, first their two year old daughter, then their seven year old son, and then his wife, who by then had already been broken by the death of her children.
They had killed the entire family and every Muggle they had been hiding. The Dark Lord summoned his followers and they disappeared in a whirl of black smoke, leaving the massacre of the thirteen bodies for the Ministry to find.
"Today, we have set an example," the Dark Lord spoke to the gathering of Death Eaters. "We have shown that it is unacceptable for Purebloods to associate with Muggles. Sometimes, you have to choose a side. Let it be known to the world that blood traitors are worth no more then the filth they're protecting."
The crowd nodded in approval.
"We will never succumb to their nefarious deeds and we will rid the world of this scum."
The Dark Lord's voice was sharp as a knife, cold as ice, and Bellatrix' eyes shone in devotion. The Dark Lord was so powerful, the magic radiated from his body, enticing her with his might. There was no denying that she lusted after him. She bowed her head. She oughtn't be having these thoughts about her Lord, she was but a servant.
"You are all to go," the Dark Lord spoke dismissively. The first Death Eaters were already starting to leave, when he added: "All except you, Bellatrix."
She felt a jolt of pleasure shot through her, but tried to keep her head down until the others had left. "Of course my Lord."
After the last of the Death Eaters had disappeared, the Dark Lord approached her. "You have done well today, Bellatrix."
She glowed with pride. It was not often that the Dark Lord complimented anyone.
She took a step closer, her eyes fluttering shut in anticipation as he ran a cold finger across her cheek.
"Take of your robes," his cold voice ordered.
She undid the laces of her corset and it fell to the ground, revealing her bare breasts. Her raven manes cascaded down her back. She stood perfectly still, allowing him to take in her form. She already felt the slick wetness of arousal between her legs.
The Dark Lord was silent for a while and she didn't dare speak, afraid to break the silence and throw away her present. For it was a present he was presenting her, even though she did not know if he was fully aware of that. It was a present to reveal herself to him and to share his bed.
"You have permission to touch me, Bellatrix."
Her eyes shone with lust. "Thank you my Lord." She undid his robe and kneeled on the cold marble tiles. She didn't register the cold, because her skin was glowing of desire. She then placed one of her hands on him, slowly starting to move. Was that a flicker of pleasure ghosting over his face?
She pretended not to have noticed, but it filled her with pride that only she could serve the Dark Lord this way. She knew how he liked her to act by now and moved her fingers up and down.
"My Lord, you are injured!" she called out, looking at a minor cut on his arm.
He stepped back abruptly. "Get up," he commanded.
"My Lord…" She reached out, but he slapped her hand away.
"I said get up," he hissed.
Bellatrix got back on her feet, disappointment taken over.
"My Lord, let me serve you…"
"Your services will no longer be required."
It felt like a bucket of cold water had been emptied above her head, but she knew there was only one thing to do: leave. She gathered her clothes and disappeared in a thick whirl of smoke, cursing herself for throwing away the opportunity of giving herself fully to the Dark Lord.
In the darkness of the night, in her own bed, she tried to still her longing with her fingers, but it just wasn't the same. Her fingers were but a meager substitute for his power and might. Her fingers could never replace her Lord.