Every time he knocked her down, she convinced herself she slipped.
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@abraxasanatomical
Every time he knocked her down, she convinced herself she slipped.
classiccupofchai (via wnq-writers)
Caught in the Ice || Abraxas and Narcissa || September 19th, 1979
âMais, itâs terrible though. All this  incidents in London are so frightening.â Eliseâs english had taken a small knock after having spent time using her mother tongue while abroad. âI am so worried for my husband-â in an effort to return to speaking proper English, she over aspirated the H sound, making it obvious that she had not dropped it. âwhen he âas to go to the Ministry. You must be so worried for Lucius.â She reached across toward Narcissa to squeeze her hand in a show of solidarity with another worried wife. She didnât miss how thin the young witchâs fingers were, and made a note to have Wimmy bring her son some food that Narcissa might also like.
âthe students at lâEcol- at Beauxbatons were all returning so I was able to-â
â-when does la chalice vide arrive?â Abraxas drawled in flawless parisian french, strolling into the room and fiddling with his cuffs. He paused midway through adjusting the cufflinks and looked up. There was just the very slightest of pauses.
âNarcissa, what a lovely surprise.â He smiled for her benefit, but the hardness never left his eyes rounded the table and forced les bises on her, brushing his cheekbones against hers, before turning back to his wife. âWhat have you two ladies been discussing then?â
Elise for her part was bright red, mortified that Narcissa who she knew understood French to have heard her husband so blatantly throw around such a crude nickname. âNarcissa, je suis profondĂ©men-âÂ
âMâamour donât interrupt our guest.â interrupted Brax, staring at his still childless daughter in law and waiting to see her reaction.
Narcissa nodded sympathetically at Elise, fighting the urge to pull away as she reached across the table.  It was true, she did worry - more than she should have, she supposed, given what an accomplished wizard her husband was. âYes,â she said softly, âitâs all quite overwhelming, isnât it?â  Offering a slight smile at the older woman, Narcissa squeezed her hand in return, a gesture of comfort, should she have needed it.  Sheâd never received any ill will from the woman - a shame given her aversion to her home because of the man sheâd been forced to marry.  Elise was everything that Narcissa was supposed to be and, she suspected that Abraxas had wanted Narcissa herself to be more like Elise - meek, unassuming, quiet.  Through no fault of Eliseâs, sheâd avoided her husbandâs mother.
In an effort to ameliorate the situation, she gazed over the table at her host. âSâil est plus facile pour vous, nous pouvons parler en Français? Câest pas une probleme pour moi, je vous -â Narcissa stiffened as Abraxas walked into the room, paling as he continued as if nothing had happened.  Her insides seem to run cold as she bit the inside of her lip, trying to at least pretend that his remark hadnât hurt.
La chalice vide⊠The empty vessel.
Under the table, her small hands balled into fists and, when he came over to greet her, his face pressed uncomfortably close to her own, her nails dug into the skin of her palms.  Hs words stung, moreso than they might have had she been feeling well.  It was as if someone had knocked the breath out of her.  She could feel her own anger, dim within her, its fire largely snuffed out by everything, It was strange; she knew she should have been angry, but all she was was hurt⊠and tired.  She knew she should have wanted to go for her wand, but even the thought of that seemed to take more energy away.
Eliseâs attempted apology was only half heard as Narcissa kept her gaze on Abraxas, forcing herself to remain calm and seemingly unaffected. Â His stare was cold, his eyes unnaturally bright in their attempts to discern what she was - and had been - hiding for over a year now.
âBeauxbatons,â she said finally, forcing a pleasant tone to her voice. âYour lovely wife and I were just discussing Beauxbatons and the PyrenĂ©es. Quite beautiful this time of year. She was just telling me all about her recent trip to France.â  She gave the Malfoy patriarch a small half-smile, unable to do anything else. âAnd you, Abraxas?  How have you been of late?â The question was more out of an effort to keep up appearances and be polite than anything,âIf youâd like Iâm sure we could manage another seat for you at the table, but I doubt weâre talking about anything youâd want to hear.â
Elise was embarassed for Narcissa, but she knew her husband would not appreciate her continuing to apologise and making a big to-do out of the name. Perhaps she hadn't even heard it.
Only...Her expression for a fleeting moment had said she had heard every last syllable. As she watched Abraxas she felt a little nervous sickness in her stomach. Abraxas had never hit her, but he had made no secret of the fact that at times a lesser man might have done, and that were he not so in love with her, and we're she not the mother of his child, he might have been tempted.
All he wanted was to extend that protection and love to Narcissa, she was sure. Her darling Lucius would never harm his wife, but she knew that Abraxas only wanted the best for his family.
Abraxas on the other hand wanted nothing more or less than for this sow to pop out a male child and continue the line.
"Yes indeed? I must say I rather prefer the alps, but Elise is biased, given her Alma Mater." He smiled the lopsided smile that was so charming to so many when there was warmth behind it, but there was nothing but cold hard stone backing this smile up. "Well, thankyou. I should like that very much. Don't worry about me, no self respecting wizard would mind listening to two beautiful women talk." He snapped his fingers and a chair was positioned for him.
He flicked up his robes and slid into the seat, purposefully seating himself the other side of Narcissa, so that she was wedged between the two Malfoys.
"M'amour have you told our daughter in law about your cousin?"Abraxas prompted, smiling blandly. Elise looked up from her hands and managed a smile, "Oh, my cousin Pierre has become a grandfather. His daughter gave birth to the most darling baby boy last month." Her eyes lit up a little, remembering the joy of others and taking it to heart as only an empathetic person can. There was no light in Abraxas' eyes.
Abraxas Malfoyâs Halloweâen Costume is that of his ancestor Septimus Malfoy. In fact, the brooch at his throat is the very brooch worn by that same Septimus Malfoy, though the rest of the costume is bespoke.Â
Caught in the Ice || Abraxas and Narcissa || September 19th, 1979
The moment Narcissa had seen the owl that morning sheâd known that something was not right.  Perhaps it was because she was still on edge from the previous night, still couldnât shake the forms that the Boggart had taken and the emptiness that the Dementors had plagued her with.  Or perhaps she was just being paranoid, but the swirling script of Elise Malfoy made anxiety ball in Narcissaâs stomach and crawl up her throat.  There was little she could do, she knew.  To refuse Elise was to refuse Abraxas and that would lead her nowhere.  So sheâd quickly penned a reply and sent the owl back.
Now, though, as she stared in the mirror, she wondered how she could ever make herself presentable. Â Methodically, she pulled her brush through her hair, noting with an increasing sense of despair that it had not only dulled but was falling out. Â Her collar bones stuck out more prominently than they had in years - and she took a sick satisfaction in seeing them that way again, despite knowing that it should have caused alarm. Â Still, she did what she could. Â There was no way she could let anyone know that anything was amiss. With anyone else, she might wear it like a badge but for her mother-in-law, she would risk nothing. Â Resolutely, she took a look at herself and made the preparations: a hair potion to temporarily restore shine and make it look thicker, concealer and highlighter to add tone to her face, and perhaps most importantly, a gown that had a capelet attached to hide her figure.
With a small, pink lipped smile, her work was done. Â While she didnât exactly look her best, she knew already that she looked better than she had before. Â Her clothes and her make up were only a mask, serving a temporary purpose. Â Though, even dressing had taken its toll as she wanted nothing more than to go back to sleep and forget the world and everything in it. Â Still, she couldnât afford to not attend. She took small solace in the fact that it was just Elise.
Wimmy was waiting for her when she arrived, leaving only momentarily before guiding her back to Eliseâs parlor. âElise,â she smiled politely, âhow have you been?  Did France treat you well?  Itâs always nice this time of year - not too hot, not too rainy.â  She sat down neatly, her smile remaining despite the fact that every bone in her body ached.  âNot much has changed here. To be honest, Iâm far more interested in what news you bring from France.â  She folded her hands in her lap under the table, squeezing every now and then, as if to wring the pent up nerves and energy free of them.
âMais, itâs terrible though. All this  incidents in London are so frightening.â Eliseâs english had taken a small knock after having spent time using her mother tongue while abroad. âI am so worried for my husband-â in an effort to return to speaking proper English, she over aspirated the H sound, making it obvious that she had not dropped it. âwhen he âas to go to the Ministry. You must be so worried for Lucius.â She reached across toward Narcissa to squeeze her hand in a show of solidarity with another worried wife. She didnât miss how thin the young witchâs fingers were, and made a note to have Wimmy bring her son some food that Narcissa might also like.
âthe students at lâEcol- at Beauxbatons were all returning so I was able to-â
â-when does la chalice vide arrive?â Abraxas drawled in flawless parisian french, strolling into the room and fiddling with his cuffs. He paused midway through adjusting the cufflinks and looked up. There was just the very slightest of pauses.
âNarcissa, what a lovely surprise.â He smiled for her benefit, but the hardness never left his eyes rounded the table and forced les bises on her, brushing his cheekbones against hers, before turning back to his wife. âWhat have you two ladies been discussing then?â
Elise for her part was bright red, mortified that Narcissa who she knew understood French to have heard her husband so blatantly throw around such a crude nickname. âNarcissa, je suis profondĂ©men-âÂ
âMâamour donât interrupt our guest.â interrupted Brax, staring at his still childless daughter in law and waiting to see her reaction.
A-Hunting We Will Go||Bertha and Brax||TBD||Malfoy Land
As he lit her cigarette he stared into her eyes, looking for and finding the desire and the want and the slut sheâd hidden under âministry officialâ. Brax didnât care about the talk. People who needed investors -who needed in plain terms money- came to him, if ti was a truly worthwhile investment they would follow up the contact by owl after. And whether or not he had shown the slightest inclination towards them or not, they would always claim he had seemed interested and it was for that reason they were sending him letters and currying his favour. None of them ever admitted that they were playing at wealth and needed his familyâs funds to continue to play. None of them admitted that he could ruin the game for them, take them out of it entirely and leave them wallowing in the mud with the commoners, blackballed from all high society events. After all, if there was a feud between the Malfoy patriarch and some nobody from a nouveau pureblood dynasty, you always chose the Malfoy.Â
That was why he was ignoring these big wigs in favour of slipping his hand further into that little slip of a girlâd dress to feel her charms of the non magical and much more physical kind.Â
OhâŠthat almost gaspâŠshe was gagging for it. He leaned in. âChaps Iâm sorry to be a bore but I really did promise to show Bertha my latest foal, â He grinned as though his finger hadnât just brushed her areola. âAnd no you cannot come with us, so donât ask.â He gave the offending wizard a friendly slap on the arm, and the men shook hands, Bertha not quite forgotten, but an accessory as he began to steer her away towards the temporary stables and the horseboxes.Â
As they walked he slid closer and under his breath, less than fifty feet from his wife murmured, âI donât know what on earth Iâm doing.â His grey eyes might have been shining with excitement as he smiled at her or it might have been the fading light and the cold gleam they always held.
It was almost stupid, the way she felt. Bertha was by all means not a prude, and had done more scandalous things than what was happening right now. But the hand brushing against her breast felt much more intimate than what she was used to. It was the formal setting, she decided. All these important men and women, being able to see what was happening, if they just looked a little bit closer.
She could feel his hand, casually touching wherever he could reach, and the realisation of what he, they, were doing made her weak in the knees. She focused on her cigarette, not even bothering with keeping up a conversation. Mr Malfoy said her name, and Bertha opened her eyes abruptly, knowing that she was the focus once more. âYes,â she said, a bit too quickly but who cared they were leaving anyway. âIâm curious to see the latest installment.â
They didnât even make proper goodbyes. Well, Mr Malfoy mightâve, but Bertha didnât care. Sheâd been courteous for too long, especially since she had to make up for Mr Greeneâs  âI didnât know you had a new foal,â she mumbled to him as they had left their company where they stood. âBut, by all means show me.â
They walked slowly away from the party, to not rouse suspicion. They passed every important person Bertha had persuaded to attend, some of them even without Bertha could see Mrs Malfoy in the corner of her eye and wondered is she knew what her husband was up to. Did she even care? Just as the thought entered her head Mr Malfoyâs voice whispered in her ear. It startled her slightly, but she quickly turned it into an amused smirk.Â
With the few last steps taking them behind the stables, but visible enough if someone were to turn the corner, Bertha leaned back against the smooth surface. Her voice was low and slightly teasing. âI think you know exactly what youâre doing, Mr Malfoy.â
They were away form the party now, which meant he could drop some pretence, leaning in close and sharing the air she breathed, smelling the cigarette on her breath as his forehead almost almost touched hers. âI am showing a pretty, delightful and young witch, something which I think she might quite enjoyâ
As he spoke his hands were moving, and in all credit to him, he managed to force a slight blush, as though he were nervous but excited. He glanced over his shoulder, but saw no-one approaching, and heard no sounds coming closer. They were so close to the unsuspecting guests, but far enough around the corner so as to be hidden.
He straightened, his icy grey gaze trailing down her face, deep into her acceptable cleavage, lower past her stomach and not quite wide enough hips and then flicking to himself and his hips as they jutted forward, the movements of his hands revealed as undoing the last catch of the robes to reveal his cock, hanging heavy, and thick, only half hard, but not that it was easy to tell given how considerable it looked already.Â
âoh Merlin Iâve not made a grave misjudgement have I?â in the moment of silence, he let a note of worry hover around the edge of his voice, as if he didnât know that she was so hungry for it. As if he didnt know what an eager little whore this pretty girl was going to become for him.
A Smile is but a Mask || Narcissa and Abraxas || September 12th, 1979
If Narcissa had hoped to get through the day without any calls from her father-in-law, her hopes had been smashed earlier that morning when theyâd received a Floo call.  It seemed the Lady Malfoy was holding a birthday tea for her esteemed husband and sheâd been invited to attend with Lucius.  If sheâd hoped to get through a single day without a mask, sheâd been mistaken.  At Luciusâ insistence, sheâd agreed.  Heâd said it would be good for her to get out the house with how pale sheâd been looking and she could hardly disagree lest she tell him what was really wrong.  And she could never do that.  That was how, once more, she found herself on the arm of her husband, smiling across the table from Abraxas Malfoy.
âI must thank you, Abraxas,â she smiled cordially, clamping down not only on what she really wanted to say but on any negative feeling she had towards him. Â Lucius was here now and she ill afford any missteps. Â âYouâve opened up your home so kindly on your birthday. Â I hope you donât mind but Iâve taken the liberty of bringing us some St. Honore cakes. Â Of course, they donât hold a candle to the ones from France, but I thought it might be nice.â Â The smile remained.
Abraxas and his wife were reclining back on one of the larger chairs, Elise perched against him, taking up very little space compared to his masterful sprawl. They kept playing with each otherâs fingers in their clasped hands, and occassionally, Abraxas would lean in close to his wife to murmur something or just rest his chin on her shoulder. Elise was of course blushing and flattered by it all, her husband so loving and romantic...Even if she was a little nervous about what might happen later that evening when they went to bed. But both of them were projecting calm welcome to their guests.Â
âOh how kind. Here, mâamour you take control of these, theyâre one of your favourites, arenât they?â The blond smiled his handsome lopsided smile from Cissa to his wife, but when his wife offered him a slice... ânon, juste un petit morceauâ he murmured to his wife, barely audibly. More audibly, he turned to Lucius with a smile, and continued in louder frenchâ...jânâveux pas grossir.â For Narcissaâs benefit he reverted to English, again picking her out as not being a Malfoy, as he had when heâd greeted his son with a broad bear hug and rapid french. âI donât want to spoil my appetite.â
Something about it all though, suggested that he did not want much because he did not want to eat it, perhaps through dislike for the cake, perhaps out of mild contempt for the gift giver. âWimmy will call us through in a moment but first, I wanted to say something. â He picked up his small coupe of champagne and raised it. âIâm so glad- no, so grateful- to have my family around me today on such a special occassion. To you, mâamour-âHe squeezed her hand gently,â for putting up with me for oh..well far too many years now. To you Lucius, my son, for making me a very proud father. And of course I am happy to have you here, too Narcissa. In these times, it is important that we hold on to what is important.â He finished the toast with a simple, but significant, âTo family.âÂ
Feels Like the First Time||No-oneâs Alone in Hell||Bertha&Brax||
âDo you like him more than me?â Came the murmured question. âshould I be jealous?â
His questing fingers slid up over her underwear, stroking her centre through them with tanatlising lightness. He was not as a rule overly interested in foreplay, but being the silly girl she was, Bertha would expect some, and she seemed to have always be content with the bare minimum that he was willing to indulge her in. âhow to prove itâŠ.hmâŠ.what a puzzle you set me, Bertha.â
âMmmm,â she mumbled, voice breathless and excited. âWhy wouldnât I? Heâs charming, usually takes me out to dinner for these sorts of things. You should be jealous.â
She bit off whatever she was about to say next in favour of an audible gasp. âMr Malfoy,â she whispered. âI think you know what to do.â She spread her legs in a blatant invitation.
âwell now I really am very jealous. â What an eager little tart. He slipped a finger into the underwear and tuggd it aside so that his fingers could slide into her. He knew that the two fingers inside her were poor preparation for his cock, and that she could take far more, and had. But he had to pretend that he cared. He smiled his lopsided smile and moved his wrist in a circle, stroking inside her. âHas he touched you here?âÂ
He leaned forward and slid his fingers out of her, both hands on the underwear now as he gripped it and with a flex of his forearms, tore the gusset. The sharp snapping sound of the material had only just faded when his hands were on her hips and he was lifting her up into the air. âProof enough? or do you need more?âÂ
Bewley {Beaulieu} House - Abraxasâ current home, and the least magically warded of the Malfoy properties in England.
Montacute House Great Bed on Flickr.
A Fish out of Water|Flashback|Edgar & Abraxas
With the boy settled and told to stay put, Abraxas moved back out to the main room and walked with easy flowing grace as though dancing through the crowd in a beeline for Viviana Bones, gently placing a hand on her back and saying, âCould I borrow you a moment?â before whispering quietly, âYour sonâs had a bit of an accident.â
They were quick on the way back to the room he had left the boy but he gave a little further explanation sotto voce, âItâs only a fall I think, but he seems to have forgotten hurting himself, and he was rather dazed when I found him.â He was reassuring throughout. A sympathetic father who knew the sorts of troubles boys could get into in big manors with large staircases, âIâve healed up the bump, but it may turn into a proper bruise. I wasnât sure how hard heâd fallen.â
He held the door for Viviana and with a small cirlcing gesture of his finger, redirected his wifeâs attention towards the room. He doubted it was jealousy, and he could explain the whole thing away afterwards if she took issue with the host of the event being absent.
Once inside the room the pair exchanged words in italian while Abraxas politely averted his gaze and stayed by the door. Until Viviana turned those eyes on him, and perhaps she knew him a little too well from work, because instead of brimming with tears of gratitude, she looked very much like the mother dragon who has found a wizard near her nest.
âI canât be entirely sure. Edgar will be better able to tell you than I.â Better able to tell you the story I told him at least. âAs I say, heâd already fallen when I found him. Our wine cellar is normally locked, I will have to speak to my elves and find out who thought anything good could come of adventurous young boys and warped old steps.â And that was an idea, why had Edgar gone down there? perhaps Edgar had fallen not on his own but because of a dare, or a game. YesâŠBetter to steer attention back to Edgar. He crouched a little, to the young wizardâs height. âEdgar, did someone tell you to go into the cellar? Were you playing Sardines?â He smiled gently, not unlike the sympathy he had shpwn when he had first âfoundâ the boy, âI shanât be angry with you. I know how it is when youâre together with all your cousins.â
Something inside of Edgar, an unfamiliar emotion, twisted in his gut as the man leant down to speak to him directly. He was glad he had his mother with him now, and he shuffled closer to her as he shook his head. âI â I ââ he stuttered, trying to remember what exactly had happened since he had been staring at the ugly portrait. Since waking up and calming down a little he could recall a blurry memory of wandering away from the portrait hall out of curiosity and boredom. âI was just bored. I didnât â I didnât know what was down there.â
More memories came to him then, of travelling into the dark cellar, wandering around the shelves and looking at the wine, but all he knew beyond that was a sense of horror and fear that was still making him shake terribly as he stood next to his mother.
His mother gave a quite âtskâ which set him even more on edge, and he glanced up at her hoping that she wasnât too angry with him. Despite the disappointed tone, there was still a gentle look in her eye, and she reached down to stroke his hair. âThat was not a very good idea, was it? Why did you not play with the other boys if you were bored?â
Edgar shook his head, unsure how to answer. There was an answer, of course. He didnât like playing with the other boys. They usually picked on him, and Lance always tried to find ways to make him look stupid. He hadnât wanted to be a part of that, he hadnât wanted to be a part of any of this. Heâd much rather be at home with Amelia, eating sweets with their babysitter and playing silly games with his baby sister.
âItâs alright, darling. Next time you must stay with your brother. Come on, we should get you home if you are still not feeling well.â Viviannaâs suspicion was lessened somewhat by her sonâs response, but her look was still a little cool as she turned back to Abraxas. âI am terribly sorry if he has disturbed you or the party at all. I am afraid we will have to leave early so we can get him into bed, please forgive this unfortunate turn of events. Your wine was not damaged at all?â
Edgar shuffled closer to his mother still, comforted by her reassurances that they would be heading home soon. Though his eyes never left Abraxas. A shiver ran down his spine at the thought of turning away from the unsettling man. He couldnât understand his emotions but he was hardly trying, more intent on the idea of getting out of there as soon as possible.
Brax nodded with a sigh, âboys will be boys wonât they?â With a small noise, as though of effort, he straightened up. Showing weakness was something he never did in public but often manufactured when alone with a small group. It often made people think more favourably of you if they thought they could usurp you. It certainly made him think favourably of others if he could use them for his purposes or to climb higher up the social ladder.Â
Now that he could see Viviana eye-to-eye he could speak personally with her. The boy was too young to input anything of value and so he was ignored now. âOh pish, wine hardly matches the value of your sonâs wellbeing.â Half-rate pureblood or not, the Bones family were still pure and still part of that elite. But some of his wine was more than worth the sonâs life, if not the familyâs.Â
He turned to the fireplace and a small marble and walnut box to the side of it. âhere, use my floo, I insist.â He ruffled the boyâs hair a little, âand you had better start looking where you walk, mâboy.âÂ
Happy Birthday
Malfoy,
I know that you requested no presents but a man like you certainly couldn't have meant such a thing. Such a fine upstanding *poorly scribbled out* Death Eater... sack of dogshit... racist fanatic asshole citizen such as yourself. So, in your honour, I not only donated several hundred galleons directly to St. Mungos (I didn't want to overload your little charity after all) but also got you this little treat. These are the best, hand-rolled Cuban cigars. I understand that muggles are quite fond of them. Do enjoy. Make certain to tell your *very poorly scribbled out* worthless waste of air... tosser extraordinaire... pathetic excuse for a human being... son that I'm thinking of him.
James Potter
Happe Birthday
Master Malfoy,
I know you sed you dont want gifts,but that dosnt relly make sens bekus evrybode likes presunts. Â And its yor birthday so you shood have presunts. Â So I got you won. Â Ill send some mony to that charut churit charitee thing you sed too.
Amycus Carrow
ps I got you a cane bekus its pretty and has a snake wich is good for lots of resuns, plus yor old so it makes sense. Â You cood put yor wand in the top undr the snake mayb?
Happy Birthday
Brax,
I know you said not too, but I've never been good at following directions, and simply couldn't resist. Happy birthday.
Avitus