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A Faithful Mistress by Alex [Reviews - 3] 
[A/N: I do not own Harry Potter, nor am I making any money off of this story. This ficlet was written for a writing contest for the topic 'dark/self-conflict' using Bellatrix. Please R/R!] Bellatrix Black sat in front of a dying fire in an elegant sitting room of a very large house. No other lights were lit and the diminishing flames barely lit the small space between the fireplace and the overstuffed loveseat that Bellatrix occupied. The dark didn’t seem to bother her, however. In fact, a small smile played at her lips as she held her hand out in the fading glow. Her new ring shone brilliantly against the black of the room. It was bigger than she had hoped. As she gazed at it, she couldn’t help but feel overly pleased with herself. Everything was just as it should be. “Congratulations, Bella.” She knew Tom was in the room before he had even spoken. He stepped forward and seated himself in the chair opposite Bellatrix. “You’re pleased?” The question came as more of a statement, as any question from Bellatrix often did. “Of course.” Tom replied. “I always thought you would make a good wife.” He spoke with the intention to hurt her, but she knew it. She was careful to make sure her expression remained neutral. The truth was, it wasn’t really Rodolphus Lestrange’s ring that Bellatrix wanted to be wearing, and they both knew it. Bellatrix had pulled out her best material on Tom in the early stages of their relationship. But it became clear fairly soon that Tom saw himself above companionship. He was a leader, and great leaders stand alone. But he found her affections amusing, nonetheless. He suddenly stood and moved to the edge of the loveseat over which Bellatrix had draped herself. He leaned down so that his face was inches from hers. “As long as you remember whose you really are.” He whispered. Bellatrix felt a shiver run through her body. A shiver of excitement. “Always, master.” She answered, reaching back and pulling him down towards her. “Until death.” The fire finally went out and the room was plunged into complete darkness. Even if someone had walked right by the window, they would have known nothing of the questionable deeds happening within. The next day Bellatrix stood in her white dress that had cost nearly as much as the diamond on her finger. She walked down the lily lined isle of the old gothic church with not so much as a wrinkle of guilt to line her lovely face. She slowly approached her husband-to-be to the sound of a beautiful wedding march. Rodolphus had replaced his usual scowl with an awkward half-smile that looked rather painful to maintain. Bellatrix smiled brilliantly as she took his hand and turned to face the man of God that stood before them. He asked her if she promised to love, honor, and obey her new husband, in the usual custom of wedding day vows. She could feel Tom’s presence lurking in the back of the church. She thought of the words they had spoken last night. “Until death.” She repeated solemnly, and the minister pronounced them husband and wife. |
