( narcissa black )
The joy that had circled them moments before faded in response to Andromeda’s sudden sullenness. Narcissa’s lips turned down, concern etching across her features to harden them and make her appear older than she was. “Andromeda..” Her voice quietened, even though there were no eavesdropping ears to hear their conversation. This sort of talk was most definitely forbidden, and she was genuinely surprised to hear it from her elder sister’s tongue. If Druella had heard her speak in such a way, well, Narcissa shuddered to think what their mother would have to say. “We are most certainly not disposable. We’re precious. You know that family is the only thing that is not disposable. It isn’t a burden to be laden with prospects, Meda. It is a privilege, we’ll find handsome matches who will give us the world and will further our family.” Her words were eerily similar to that of her mother’s. She’d taken them and made them her own, clutching them against her heart as proof of her worth. She was not a boy, a petit prince to carry their family name, but she could further her family’s cause with a profitable match.
She’d dreamed since she was a little girl of the man she would marry. She dreamed of many children, sons and daughters both to cherish. Love only your family, it made the most sense. If she opened her heart to more she risked having them used against her. She risked their position. It simply wasn’t done. “Are you worried mother and father will not find you a good match?” She asked, trying to understand why Andromeda would call their prospects burdens. “You know maman will find you a husband worthy of your hand. You said it yourself, no matter who you marry it will be a step down, it is a benefit to us, for anyone longing for our hand must demonstrate their worth, not the other way round.” She watched as Andromeda busied her hands, not fooled by the attempt to skirt around the conversation. She wondered, too, whether Andromeda worried about her own abilities to be both wife and mother, but she could not see her elder sister as being anything but the most wonderful wife and the most devoted mother.
Narcissa’s smile returned as they strayed from the conversation of prospects to their childhood friend. “Oh, Andromeda!” She laughed, “A reflection of what would become him? Is our Rabastan so flimsy and coming apart at the seams?” She giggled, wondering if perhaps she had read far too much into her earlier comments. This was far easier, more like the conversations she expected from her. “You borrowed Grandpère’s ring to gift him?” She tried to picture which one her dearest grandmother would find permissible to gift, and each one she thought of was far grander than the last. “I wonder if he still has it. Have you ever asked?” Her curiosity was getting the best of her, the way it always did when Andromeda was around. She had that influence, that way of turning her head and pointing to something Narcissa herself had overlooked.
The younger Black sister scoffed. “Do not be so dramatic, Meda. We have far more freedom than any kitchen elf. You have listened to grandmère as often as I have. Her lessons have shown me that we have more freedom than most women like us.” Pureblood women with prospects, that was. She relaxed against Andromeda’s gentle fingertips, unused to the physical affection, but welcoming to it when it came from her sister. Bellatrix was far less apt to give her such a response, but she could typically count on Andromeda to meet her with warmth. She leaned into the touch, not having realized how desperately she craved it. “Of course we must look after our own first.” She agreed, letting Andromeda turn her head with her fingertips against her chin. She met her sister’s darker eyes, noting the warmth but sincerity that filled them. This advice was important to her. “I am not quick to reveal my heart, please do not trouble yourself. Only family will know what lies beneath the surface. Anything else would be foolishness.”
“You will make a beautiful bride, the most beautiful of all of us.” She reassured. “Of course many will come to witness your union, and perhaps it will not begin as love, but you are warm and wise and witty. You bring warmth from all those you meet. Your husband, whoever he will be, will come to love you. He will have no choice. He will take your hand and you will capture his heart as you have all those around you.” She could not understand why Andromeda did not see the way she charmed the world around her, the way she beckoned them to love her. Why would her husband be any different? More so, certainly their parents would seek a husband who would cherish her, who would understand how valuable and precious she was? She trusted them to do that for her, why would Andromeda be any different?
She sighed happily as Andromeda lightened once more, the laughter soothing her worries for now. “Play at virgin beauties?” She laughed, “Play? Is there something else you’ve not told me?” She asked, no judgment filling her tone as she held the spoon at her, waving it about as she asked her questions. “See! Would you not be happy with Rabastan? And if not him, there will be others. You worry too much, you’ll make yourself sick.” She warned.
Her own cheeks flared at the mention of Lucius, a knot tightening in her stomach as she tried to recover quickly. She wasn’t sure what to make of the Malfoy heir. He’d been charming and kind over their dinner, but now she owed him a large amount of money, and she worried at what he might demand in return. She turned, pulling the mixing bowl toward herself as she spoke. “He is charming and kind enough, but I do not know him, Andromeda. I told you, father says I am too young to consider weddings anyhow.” She looked to her, a rather unrefined snort leaving her at the comment. “Ice to an Eskimo? Is that how you’ll make your fortune as the Lady Lestrange?” She shook her head, amused by her sister’s mix of denial and undeniable love for the younger Lestrange brother.
“When I think of my own wedding, I do not think of my husband, but the colors. The season. A wintry wedding, as I cannot possibly marry in the summer. My birthday is in summer, that would be silly to have both. Planning would be an utter nightmare. It could not be too close to Christmas, though. Perhaps the beginning of December. Or, if not a wintry wedding, then spring. The gardens would be the most beautiful place to wed, don’t you think?”
Tongue-in-cheek, the older sister curbed her disdain like an unhealthy appetite. While there were thoughts that circled in parallel with the likes of Narcissa being somewhat of a clone of their mother, and Andromeda a discarded test subject--- her little sister’s bubble was not a force that she was willing to penetrate. “If you say so.” There was a tinge of people-pleasing balanced on her rolling syllables - but Andromeda wanted nothing less than to make her sister question as she too had questioned so many times. Ignorance was bliss - and Narcissa wore it like a thousand pound necklace. Lips twitched as the blonde continued to speak, a robotic nod taking control of her clenched jaw. Andromeda too had believed that troubles and flaws and anguish all dissolved as soon as she muttered her ‘I do’s’ to a handsome man ‘worthy’ of winning her hand. But now, with only a year of seniority over Narcissa, she saw the cracks in such a perfect existence. Rabastan Lestrange had always been a sore topic for Andromeda. To this day she still nursed the bitter sweetness of ambiguity. Being the only Black not yet engaged, she often felt as though her two steps forward were drowned out by the sprint finishes of her two superiors. “I don’t even know what worthy means anymore...” A solemn turn in the conversation - the doubt Andromeda had been harbouring for some time now coming to light. “But I’m sure you’re right. Mamam knows best.” A ghost of a smile. “She always does what’s best for us. Even if she has a funny way of showing it.”
Her marriage had been planned to the tiniest of details before she had even been born - Andromeda had assumed. It wasn’t unlike her family to go all out. Annual festivities vouched for that much. But as she had grown, Andromeda had grown to detest ‘prospects’. Having a diary written for her, detailing that belittled all sense of pride and accomplishment. “Now, now, my dear Narcissa. Let’s not go too deep. We all know you’re the fairest Black of us all--- and that’s something I accepted long ago.” As she spoke, a tender hand extended to cup the face of the person she was most fond of. Little did she know, Andromeda often performed the same mannerisms as a young child - only her fingers less nimble and more clumsy, often pinching and tweaking the velvet stretch of skin on her sister’s full cheeks. Reprimanded for her lack of etiquette, her far stretch from what was considered ‘lady like’ - she soon learned her lesson.
“You speak so highly of me, ma petite jonquille.” And in that moment - tears could have swelled in hazel hues. Scarcely burdened by the green-eyed monster, Andromeda could have sworn she was drawn to him. “I fear you set your expectations too high.” It was times like this, the chosen victim of well-wishes and high regards - that Andromeda was filled with doubt. Husbands, marriages and the like were far removed from her daily train of thought. It was a necessity - rather than a luxury - in the eyes of her family. But if her books had taught her anything at all - it was that the best things in life came unplanned. If only her life could take the same course.
“---Merlin, no, Narcissa.” Talks of purity instilled upon her as an adolescent, and possibly some time before - no. Andromeda had not strayed into such territory. If worries of ending up as her cousin did weren’t enough - raising a child so young certainly did. “I’m not fit to be a mother. Not yet, at least. I’d like to have some petite versions of myself running around the hall one day--- one day. With the right man. I’d hate to do so alone.” Dimples formed in full cheeks - her revelation only a fragment of the happy future she had planned. It was a hell of a future - but one she filled she could never fulfill. “There are some sicknesses I’d rather weather than others.” Nimble fingers sank to her stomach. “If you know what I mean.”
“And you will get to know him.” Andromeda too could not read the harsh countenance of the Malfoy heir. Acquaintances at most - he was a book she could not read. Unlike the older of the Lestrange brothers, their family did not wear their hearts on the sleeves. “And if you don’t love him---” Voice wavered on uncharted territory. “Well, we’ll cross that bridge when we get to it. And I’ll be here for you.”
Expression elated as her little sister spoke. It was clear to see that nothing was spontaneous in Narcissa’s life - and she envied that. “A wintry wedding sounds positively magical.” She chided, half-nods portraying her utmost agreement. “Let’s not worry too much for the specifics. It’ll be the Black Family event of the decade--- whenever you choose to marry. And I cannot wait to see it all pan out for you.”
