Post by trickibee on Apr 13, 2008 7:24:13 GMT -5
Hi guys! This is my first complete Boldy fanfic. The full A/N is at the end.
Hope you enjoy!
Summary: He remembers that night in shades of vibrant green.
He glanced up and his eyes caught on a particular spot in the distance. It was green – the whole night was, in fact. Shades of green and silver in celebration of their heritage. Perhaps it was merely the old adage at play, but the grass, the lights, and... everything, actually, seemed greener where she sat. He approached her, his slow, loping gate making him seem irreverent and relaxed.
In reality he was neither.
He paused another moment to take her in. Her robes – were they really robes? It was more of a gown... – were a rich emerald, highlighting her creamy complexion. The grass on which she sat seemed washed out {almost yellow} and dry by comparison. Her gown spread around her like followers bowing to her. The way it fanned, the way the hue of the grass was a less saturated version of that in her dress so it almost seemed as if she was an extension of the ground, made her seem like some kind of goddess. And that was fitting, for she deserved to be worshipped.
He would have almost said angel, but he knew she was far from angelic, which was one of his favourite things about her.
The tree behind her was adorned in green Fire Wuzbits, each one held in a small sphere of air by an enchantment, giving the tree the impression of being draped in green, moving fairy lights.
If it was possible, she looked even more beautiful bathed in their soft green glow.
She had attempted to tame her wild black hair with and clip made of emeralds and diamonds, which caught the light of the Wuzbits, sparkling and twinkling appealingly. Still, she was the most precious object in the picture, regardless of the gems in her hair or the silver ornaments that hung from her wrists and neck.
The dress was corset based; silk, velvet and lace highlighting her figure with graceful ease. He had no idea what to give the most attention to. The entire image was too overwhelming for his senses to process.
Her black eyes, accentuated with silver-flecked-green eye shadow, had not left him the entire night – something that he had not realised. In fact it was only now, after several minutes longer than he wanted to be watching her, that he recognised not only did she know he was watching, but she was watching him too.
The knowledge caused a quirked smile to pull at her lips, which were a vibrant purple tonight. There was something not green about the evening after all...
So, it was after realising this, after catching sight of the amused smile on her lips, that he decided he would proceed on his journey.
“Bella.” He nodded when he reached her.
“Good evening, My Lord.” She said, her expression now becoming one of contented respect.
“May I join you?” He asked, knowing the answer even before the question was asked. There was still something to be said for niceties between old – what were they? Friends?
She nodded. “Of course.” He sat beside her, avoiding the skirt of her gown and facing across the garden, but secretly stealing glances at her. She was just as stunning up close, if not more. No, she was more stunning up close. Much more.
“I am... surprised that you aren’t socialising with your guests.” He said slowly, phrasing it carefully in an attempt to gain some information – he wasn’t sure exactly what.
“Rodolphus’ guests.” She corrected. “In truth, there is only one person here tonight who I have any interest in. And I have a great deal of interest in that person.”
“And still, I have yet to see him call on you this evening.” He replied, managing to keep any resentment out of his tone. Needless to say, Rodolphus Lestrange was by no means his favourite person.
“In fact he has, Master.” She said, furrowing her brow slightly in confusion.
“Clearly I failed to notice him breaking away from the throng of hanger-ons...”
She laughed shortly. “I am not referring to my husband, My Lord. His company thrills me even less than Ancient Runes class did.” She smiled to herself, her eyes were cast upon her hand as it plucked the lush grass from the earth.
“Oh?” He enquired. Obviously by now he had a theory as to whom she was referring, but he wanted confirmation, wanted to hear it from her own lips.
“The person who I... wish to keep council with... Is actually... you.” She said, drawing out the sentence until her courage was raised to the point where she could look him in the eye to make her confession.
He raised a hand, gesturing to his chest in a questioning motion. “Me?” He raised his non-existent eyebrow. Her face drained of any and all of the playfulness which it had held, and was now entirely serious, completely honest.
“Always.” She caught herself, cleared her throat, looked down and up before correcting herself:
“It has always been you, My Lord.” Their eyes met and the energy passing between their ocular organs was almost tangible.
“Bellatrix, I thought you said...” Came the impatient voice of her ‘husband’ as he approached the pair, not knowing what he had stumbled upon. She looked down, then brought her eyes to meet her husband’s.
“I was discussing strategies with the Dark Lord, Rodolphus. You have no business interrupting.” She said sharply, glaring at him destestfully as she did so.
“Many apologies, My Lord.” He said, bowing deeply to the Dark Lord. Bellatrix’s lips pursed, malcontent at having been disrespected in the company of her master.
“Bella, will I see you greeting our guests once you’re finished?” He asked, a definite warning note in his voice. Her eyes sent killing curses at him and her lips remained tight.
“Perhaps.” She replied, giving him a look which, most definitively, told him he was dismissed. His mouth constricted in anger. He would’ve argued the point had they not been in the company of their lord.
“Very well.” He said to her, before turning to Voldemort. “I apologise again for the interruption, My Lord.” Voldemort nodded, waiting for the irritating wizard to leave them to their own devices.
“Imbecile.” She hissed under her breath. “I’m sorry, My Lord.”
“You’ve no need to apologise. Now, you were saying...?” She met his eyes.
“Actually I was waiting for you to say something. I had said.... more than I’d ever intended to, in all honesty.” He sighed deeply, staring with unfocussed eyes at the party across the lawn.
“Ah, Bella. You know that you have always been my most trusted, loyal follower.”
“And yet you’ve ceased to give me your trust of late.” She interjected, a slight not of bitterness – or perhaps pain - in her voice.
“There is a reason, Bellatrix. A reason that frightens me more than anything else. I trust you, Bella; I trust you more than words can say. However, of late, I don’t trust myself with you.” Her eyes widened, but she was certain she’d misunderstood.
“You don’t - ?”
“Trust myself to not touch you, protect you, to be honest with you. I don’t trust myself to not tell you how I... think of you.” He listened to her even breathing – the way she breathed when she was processing something.
Eventually she looked up at him.
“If you do not wish to tell me, then I am content to know that you have such feelings; contented to tell you of mine.” She rose. “Come with me.” He cocked a non-existent eyebrow.
“I will be beside you, fighting for you, until you wish me not to be. I am eternally yours, My Lord. If you one day feel the need to express that you have the same feelings, I will look at you as I always have; if not, so be it.”
“Prove yourself to me, Bella.” He requested softly. Obediently she did not point out that she had done so numerous times, and instead pulled a small phial out of her cleavage. From where he sat he could see the label which read Arsenic in flowing script.
“For a special occasion.” She said wickedly, her eyes twinkling. She set off across the grounds, and he watched her fetch her husband a drink, watched her watch him drain the goblet in one long swallow and watched, with utter adoration, as she turned on her heel and began to make the journey back to him while her husband fell to the ground, writhing and convulsing.
He stood, facing her, searching her eyes for some catch, some hidden condition, but he found none. He found the single thing that scared him the most: love.
Cautiously, he reached out and touched her wild black hair, his lips quirking slightly at the feel. She leaned forward, longing for his lips to meet hers, but hesitant to make the move herself. Obligingly he fulfilled her silent request, granting her one quick but passionate kiss.
“Will you be my queen, Bellatrix?” He queried, holding his hands out for hers. A smile spread on her full purple lips as she intertwined her fingers with his.
“There could be no higher pleasure.”
AN: I know, I stole the line.
AN2: Fire Wuzbits are my little magical invention. I figure they’re like fire-flies crossed with miniature, well behaved pixies.
Hope you enjoy!
Green
Summary: He remembers that night in shades of vibrant green.
He glanced up and his eyes caught on a particular spot in the distance. It was green – the whole night was, in fact. Shades of green and silver in celebration of their heritage. Perhaps it was merely the old adage at play, but the grass, the lights, and... everything, actually, seemed greener where she sat. He approached her, his slow, loping gate making him seem irreverent and relaxed.
In reality he was neither.
He paused another moment to take her in. Her robes – were they really robes? It was more of a gown... – were a rich emerald, highlighting her creamy complexion. The grass on which she sat seemed washed out {almost yellow} and dry by comparison. Her gown spread around her like followers bowing to her. The way it fanned, the way the hue of the grass was a less saturated version of that in her dress so it almost seemed as if she was an extension of the ground, made her seem like some kind of goddess. And that was fitting, for she deserved to be worshipped.
He would have almost said angel, but he knew she was far from angelic, which was one of his favourite things about her.
The tree behind her was adorned in green Fire Wuzbits, each one held in a small sphere of air by an enchantment, giving the tree the impression of being draped in green, moving fairy lights.
If it was possible, she looked even more beautiful bathed in their soft green glow.
She had attempted to tame her wild black hair with and clip made of emeralds and diamonds, which caught the light of the Wuzbits, sparkling and twinkling appealingly. Still, she was the most precious object in the picture, regardless of the gems in her hair or the silver ornaments that hung from her wrists and neck.
The dress was corset based; silk, velvet and lace highlighting her figure with graceful ease. He had no idea what to give the most attention to. The entire image was too overwhelming for his senses to process.
Her black eyes, accentuated with silver-flecked-green eye shadow, had not left him the entire night – something that he had not realised. In fact it was only now, after several minutes longer than he wanted to be watching her, that he recognised not only did she know he was watching, but she was watching him too.
The knowledge caused a quirked smile to pull at her lips, which were a vibrant purple tonight. There was something not green about the evening after all...
So, it was after realising this, after catching sight of the amused smile on her lips, that he decided he would proceed on his journey.
“Bella.” He nodded when he reached her.
“Good evening, My Lord.” She said, her expression now becoming one of contented respect.
“May I join you?” He asked, knowing the answer even before the question was asked. There was still something to be said for niceties between old – what were they? Friends?
She nodded. “Of course.” He sat beside her, avoiding the skirt of her gown and facing across the garden, but secretly stealing glances at her. She was just as stunning up close, if not more. No, she was more stunning up close. Much more.
“I am... surprised that you aren’t socialising with your guests.” He said slowly, phrasing it carefully in an attempt to gain some information – he wasn’t sure exactly what.
“Rodolphus’ guests.” She corrected. “In truth, there is only one person here tonight who I have any interest in. And I have a great deal of interest in that person.”
“And still, I have yet to see him call on you this evening.” He replied, managing to keep any resentment out of his tone. Needless to say, Rodolphus Lestrange was by no means his favourite person.
“In fact he has, Master.” She said, furrowing her brow slightly in confusion.
“Clearly I failed to notice him breaking away from the throng of hanger-ons...”
She laughed shortly. “I am not referring to my husband, My Lord. His company thrills me even less than Ancient Runes class did.” She smiled to herself, her eyes were cast upon her hand as it plucked the lush grass from the earth.
“Oh?” He enquired. Obviously by now he had a theory as to whom she was referring, but he wanted confirmation, wanted to hear it from her own lips.
“The person who I... wish to keep council with... Is actually... you.” She said, drawing out the sentence until her courage was raised to the point where she could look him in the eye to make her confession.
He raised a hand, gesturing to his chest in a questioning motion. “Me?” He raised his non-existent eyebrow. Her face drained of any and all of the playfulness which it had held, and was now entirely serious, completely honest.
“Always.” She caught herself, cleared her throat, looked down and up before correcting herself:
“It has always been you, My Lord.” Their eyes met and the energy passing between their ocular organs was almost tangible.
“Bellatrix, I thought you said...” Came the impatient voice of her ‘husband’ as he approached the pair, not knowing what he had stumbled upon. She looked down, then brought her eyes to meet her husband’s.
“I was discussing strategies with the Dark Lord, Rodolphus. You have no business interrupting.” She said sharply, glaring at him destestfully as she did so.
“Many apologies, My Lord.” He said, bowing deeply to the Dark Lord. Bellatrix’s lips pursed, malcontent at having been disrespected in the company of her master.
“Bella, will I see you greeting our guests once you’re finished?” He asked, a definite warning note in his voice. Her eyes sent killing curses at him and her lips remained tight.
“Perhaps.” She replied, giving him a look which, most definitively, told him he was dismissed. His mouth constricted in anger. He would’ve argued the point had they not been in the company of their lord.
“Very well.” He said to her, before turning to Voldemort. “I apologise again for the interruption, My Lord.” Voldemort nodded, waiting for the irritating wizard to leave them to their own devices.
“Imbecile.” She hissed under her breath. “I’m sorry, My Lord.”
“You’ve no need to apologise. Now, you were saying...?” She met his eyes.
“Actually I was waiting for you to say something. I had said.... more than I’d ever intended to, in all honesty.” He sighed deeply, staring with unfocussed eyes at the party across the lawn.
“Ah, Bella. You know that you have always been my most trusted, loyal follower.”
“And yet you’ve ceased to give me your trust of late.” She interjected, a slight not of bitterness – or perhaps pain - in her voice.
“There is a reason, Bellatrix. A reason that frightens me more than anything else. I trust you, Bella; I trust you more than words can say. However, of late, I don’t trust myself with you.” Her eyes widened, but she was certain she’d misunderstood.
“You don’t - ?”
“Trust myself to not touch you, protect you, to be honest with you. I don’t trust myself to not tell you how I... think of you.” He listened to her even breathing – the way she breathed when she was processing something.
Eventually she looked up at him.
“If you do not wish to tell me, then I am content to know that you have such feelings; contented to tell you of mine.” She rose. “Come with me.” He cocked a non-existent eyebrow.
“I will be beside you, fighting for you, until you wish me not to be. I am eternally yours, My Lord. If you one day feel the need to express that you have the same feelings, I will look at you as I always have; if not, so be it.”
“Prove yourself to me, Bella.” He requested softly. Obediently she did not point out that she had done so numerous times, and instead pulled a small phial out of her cleavage. From where he sat he could see the label which read Arsenic in flowing script.
“For a special occasion.” She said wickedly, her eyes twinkling. She set off across the grounds, and he watched her fetch her husband a drink, watched her watch him drain the goblet in one long swallow and watched, with utter adoration, as she turned on her heel and began to make the journey back to him while her husband fell to the ground, writhing and convulsing.
He stood, facing her, searching her eyes for some catch, some hidden condition, but he found none. He found the single thing that scared him the most: love.
Cautiously, he reached out and touched her wild black hair, his lips quirking slightly at the feel. She leaned forward, longing for his lips to meet hers, but hesitant to make the move herself. Obligingly he fulfilled her silent request, granting her one quick but passionate kiss.
“Will you be my queen, Bellatrix?” He queried, holding his hands out for hers. A smile spread on her full purple lips as she intertwined her fingers with his.
“There could be no higher pleasure.”
AN: I know, I stole the line.
AN2: Fire Wuzbits are my little magical invention. I figure they’re like fire-flies crossed with miniature, well behaved pixies.
) and a very sweet story. And ha, she killed Rodolphus! 
I love the interaction between the two of them. Having Bella kill Rodolphus was brilliant! Not only does it prove how far she'll go for Voldemort, it also leaves her single and available. Sort of killing two birds with one stone, if you'll pardon the pun. 