Mother, you don’t understand ― persephone’s return

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Mother, you don’t understand ― persephone’s return
modern olympians: [2/?]
↳ persephone, goddess of spring, queen of the underworld, daughter of zeus & demeter.
sweet-looking girls who’ve built their thrones from thorns and the skulls of those that crossed them, wedding themselves with bloodied hands to god-kings, but only when he lowers himself to bended knee.
Narcissa’s moves in this game they’ve stumbled into are nothing short of subtle, but Amycus can tel that they’re no less potent for it. The turning away of her gaze, her words, the almost teasing display of the expanse of skin along her neck. Enough to bring any other man crashing to his knees, certainly enough to have his resolve stuttering somewhat. She has just as much power as any of the others in their social circles that he walks alongside, and it’s an intoxicating thought. That she can manage such grace and such ruin all in hand. Amycus always had a weakness for that sort of thing, women who know their own strength, even as controlled and intense as he is. He acknowledges the arrival of another drink with a grin, and a nod towards the bartender. He’ll make a note to bring in the next round, whether it be this afternoon or at another occasion — because nearest to the top of his list of peeves is ending up in anyone’s debt, no matter who they might be or how small. There’s no desire nor aim to get drunk right now, nor to see Narcissa tumble into the sphere of tipsiness either; the warmth of the liquid as he sips at it now is just a pleasant addition to a pleasant encounter.
“If I told you, I’d spoil the surprise,” He’s quick to answer with a grin, and a shrug moments after. “Or perhaps I’ve not made up my mind just yet.” The latter holds the truth, because really, Amycus has never played the game looking for a prize. The thrill of victory is usually enough, anything else is an added bonus. Although he can’t help but find himself curious about where this path might lead him. “And just what would a bloke have to do to impress you then?”
He played well, though differently than she. Each move he made was more obvious, more overtly powerful and it would be a bit easier for someone unfamiliar to realize he was up to something. Few could manage the strategies Narcissa did, and she was positive he could not, but then again never would she be able to emulate his maneuvers. This is what let her to enjoy playing with Amycus, or at least she did in this moment, as it was all the true experience she had. He looked at her with a sort of appreciation few could manage because few saw beyond the very surface of her beauty. She takes another sip, tasting her drink, so light and lovely in her mouth. She had never been much of a drinker and knew this ought to be her last for a bit in order to avoid slipping out of the grounds of sobriety, which was not a thought that appealed. Narcissa despised intoxication, in fact she despised most things that meant loss of control without gain. Narcissa leaned towards her companion slightly, her eyes flicking up across his body. "If I told you it would ruin the surprise." She murmured softly. "Or, perhaps I've not made up my mind yet."
Every bloke alive had held an infatuation with Narcissa Black at some point or another, though Sturgis had always thought that he’d had it worse than the others. She was the epitome of what he wanted to have. Wealth, beauty, status — goddamit, she was flawless, and in the most pristine way; in a way that he couldn’t penetrate. Literally and metaphorically. How could he, when all those snakes wreathed around her, calling her their own? Even if he’d never gotten over how incredibly good she looked, the nature of her companions was enough to set him off.
Maybe she didn’t recognize him, god knows he’d made himself known while she was in school; or maybe she really was as bored as she’d looked, but there was a coyness to her tone that suggested that tonight, perhaps, chances were hanging in the air. He chose his words carefully now, each smirk and whisper a calculated affair. “I can show you the world,” he answered vaguely, lifting his eyebrows, with hand still outstretched. Palm up, offering her what he had, little as it was, he could proliferate nothing into everything with well placed charm. “Sweep your cares away, make you forget who you are, Narcissa. Only for a night. Only for a dance.” Sturgis echoed her statement back at her. “Tempting?”
Sturgis was below her, and there was a time when she didn't know that, a time when she watched him and wondered. When Andromeda announced she was leaving, finding her way into Ted's arms she had become particularly interested in the blonde man who stood across from her now. It had perhaps been frivolous to select him as the one she thought of as a way out, a different sort of life. He wasn't kind, he didn't seem the type to become infatuated with a single woman and he didn't have anything to offer her, but in her young mind the Ravenclaw was the symbol of something. She had of course outgrown any such views completely, but she did remember the days where she watched him from her nest of snakes, and wondered if a Raven such as he would be enough to lift her out, and into the air.
She smiled at him, her eyes dancing like diamonds framed with the ebony of her lashes. "What cares do you suppose I have? What leads you to believe that I would ever wish to forget myself and above all what makes you think that a night with you is enough to draw me in?" Her voice was gentle. floating, and as she turned away from she added three words that changed the messaged she had given him, just enough for her purposes.
She wondered, if Alexander was among the crowd of people with their masks on. Unless it was a dead giveaway of whom a person was, or if you knew their posture well enough, then it was hard to tell who anyone was among the crowd. Those of higher status obviously had nicer gowns and tuxedos but even then there quite a few of those around. Even if he was, it didn’t matter she wasn’t keen on seeing him after their last encounter. Chantelle planned to only be here as long as she needed to be, she would not spend the entire night here. She drops her gaze from the decorations when she hears a voice and judging by how blond the hair is she suspects the girl to be Narcissa Black whom she remembers vaguely from many pureblood affairs. “Reminds me too much of the boring ones I was forced to attend as a child, though at least those didn’t have us mingling with filth.” Here the blood traitors and muggleborns were invisible and blended in. It made them hard to stay away from.
Narcissa did not enjoy the idea of this event, in fact it disgusted her on more level than one, and being surrounded by those who barely deserved to breath without being able to see clearly who they were was unpleasant, however it was more the possibility that her betrothed could be here, anywhere and for once the blonde haired witch had no idea how to handle something. She wanted to run, to scream and to seek him out, though of course she would never do any of the above. Her sature demanded that she remain in place, cool eyes and unwavering beauty. So she focused on Chantelle, someone she knew how to deal with, offering the girl a smile. It was obvious her companions thoughts were elsewhere and she didn't mind too much. All the better to study her. "If you know how to tell you can pick them out with a little work." Narcissa murmured.
Damien hadn’t been expecting the girl to turn around. Nor smile at him in a inviting way over to where she stood. He had only been appreciating the beauty she contained before going to move on to the next girl that danced into his vision. Seeing that he had gained her attention, he obliged, allowing himself to mingle with the girl. Quickly, he straightened up from the wall he had been leaning against and moved to stand next to her. Not exactly pinpointing his eyes to hers, no there was much more he had yet to see yet. But, she had more of his attention now than the other girls twirling around the room. “Good evening, madam.” He said, casting his glance in her direction while he did so.
Narcissa could see the masked surprise on his face, though it was subtle. She could see that she hadn't done what every other girl in this room did and a sense of pride still flowed through her at this. However she got the feeling when he came to her it was not out of desire but rather a sense of obligation, one that she did not particularly care for. Regardless when he reached her she smiled, lifting the delicate flute of champagne she possessed to her lips before turning her eyes out to the dancers, swirling clumsily more often than not, but with a certain unpracticed beauty. "Sir." She murmured, the lull of her voice absent for a beat. "Lovely aren't they?" She asked then, her eyes remaining on the crowds.
A lighthearted smile began to play on his lips, curious towards her chosen way towards him. It wasn’t the usually gaiety tone he was familiar with receiving from the women he talked with. Yet, he never expected that from Narcissa. She was exceptional, a rare jewel among the masses. One, that while she acted as proper, still had a distinct quality about her when he had earned chances to speak with her. Tonight was no omission from that common act. Slipping his hands into his pockets, he looked down at her. His eyes swam with inquisitiveness, wondering as to what had her confined to the sidelines. Lucius had expected another man to have tested his luck by now, jump at the opportunity to dance with her. “Does dancing not suit your taste tonight.” He inquired.
Handsome, so bloody handsome. Narcissa knew their match was smart, after all there were no two purebloods with more promise, more ambition, more beauty or more poise. She knew if she allowed they could make a pretty duo. The could break hearts and he could show her the things she ached to understand. He could show her the dark, the trouble with that was she would have to admit she wanted to know the dark, to know him. And she was still unsure of all of this, not to mention the fact she hated the way he managed to melt her just a bit, the fact that with one of those charming smiles he had her wanting him, or at least admitting to herself there was a possibility she could want him. "Actually it's the partners who don't meet my desires this evening."
As he neared, Sturgis’ attention piqued all at once, as he took in the heart shaped face with it’s golden halo of hair, and the alluring voice that emanated from behind the mask. Narcissa Black. Or was it Malfoy now? The difference was insubstantial to him, truly, and as they stood face to face, a smirk slipped upon his features, a spark of challenge lit within him. Seducing women was of no hardship, but a married one? It was like trying to breach heaven from hell, but then again, he’d never let that stop him before.
"As was I, sweetheart…but perhaps we can mutually benefit from this moment,” he replied smoothly, giving her a small bow. He did smooth, but not the one she was accustomed to. Outstretching his hand while simultaneously Evananesco-ing the flute away with his mind, Sturgis paused and thought of his mask, black and red —”A dance with the devil?”
It was not hard to recognize that smirk, she knew it all to well after all. There had been a time when she fancied Sturigis, he was handsome and confident and in her youth Narcissa's untrained eye was drawn to such things, but now men like him too often served as target practice. He was sure he could have any woman, but the blonde was confident he would never have her, not even for a moment. She returned his look with one of her own, albeit her smirk was far more delicate and no where near as obvious. If he thought it was her betrothal that would be the problem in seducing her he could not be farther from correct.
The term sweetheart put her off at once, though she smiled at it as if she was charmed by the pet name. Ever since she was young being called such things was abhorrent from most. Thus far the only exceptions were Amycus and Lucius, perhaps because she just liked them men's voices so much. "Tempting, but I see no reason to make a deal with you. What could you give me that I don't already have?" Her words said no, but her eyes asked to be convinced, and it was no accident.
Lucius had been locked to the sidelines. The ball was alight, couples dancing under the stars with smiles plastered to their faces. The ballroom was manifested into a game of masks and games with the fellow others who played along. Crossing all boundaries that had been set on their life and embarking into more pleasant things. The need to be prim and proper abandoned. Still, Lucius wasn’t keen on joining in on the celebrations. Off to the side, away from the crowded areas felt more suited. Most importantly because he didn’t even understand his needing to be here. When he caught sight of her, though. The golden hair trailing down the back of her dress, he knew. The mask didn’t deter him from who was behind it. Striding across the room with ease, he went to stand beside her. “Hello, dearest.”
She had watched them all in their gaiety offered her little in the way of satisfaction, not in the way it once had. She would join in if asked but if she did it would be in a different manner, one more sleek and elegant, but for now she was content to observe in vague displeasure and wait for company she was willing to keep. It didn't take long for a companion to seek her out, it never did but the man who found her was not one she was sure she wanted, but one she had been destined to take. He was handsome that night, as he always was and she found that her eyes lingered a moment longer than she herself would have liked but to any other it would be nearly imperceptible. It was not the way he moved or spoke that deterred Narcissa. No he had a grace and a power in him that made her wonder what his touch might feel like, and the tone of his voice had always charmed her but it was what lay beneath that worried the blonde haired girl. Could he give her what he required? Could he entertain her? Could she be the only woman he kept? Narcissa was sure she would marry the man, but she was not sure if it would be anything more than a show. "Lucius." She murmured gently in way of greeting. The word itself was not inviting but the lilt of her voice was not harsh nor was it cold, and so it was the best she could manage then. It had never been quite so easy for her to be in control with him.
The night began in full swing. People filed in, eager to have a taste of the bland food covering the tables, something far less exquisite than he was accustomed to; they must find it delicious, he thought. While couples were eager to claim a spot in the ballroom to dance the night away, the manifested stars guiding their movements. Tme had escaped him, his attention drawn to the women. Adorning themselves in gowns for the night, a mask to top it off. Many innocents filled the room, lightening his mood to the idea of being here. Seeing it as a chance to prey on the women that danced into his vision while he drank till he was content.
Enjoying his chance to indulge, he walked along the edge of the partners already swarming the dance floor. His eyes trained on the ones not embarking on the opportunity, cursed to watch instead of delving into the full experience of the night. Straightening the golden mask embellishing his face, he strode closer to the side, standing comfortable next to one abandoned table of considered delicacies. Observing the room, his eyes trained on a specific person, a smile of pleasantry making an appearance.
She felt eyes on her before she knew who was watching, but this was hardly and uncommon occurrence. However she this gaze seemed colder, almost predatory and chills ran up her spine. She was used to eyes upon her and men never daring to breath her name. And so she stood watching waiting for a man who might dare to approach her, to speak to the shining star with the champagne in her elegant hand.
After a moment sue turned towards him and her eyes fixed upon the dark haired man as he smiled at her, an expression which was not unpleasant but somehow she felt his features would be better suited with something less cordial. Her eyes beckoned him over as her lips curved up, mirroring his.
Green eyes scanned the scene before her. She leaned back against the wall next to a drinks table. Abigail had taken a break from the dancing she had been doing with a man whose name she did not remember. She sipped her drink casually as she scrutinized the young girls and their attempts to dance. It was evident that many of them didn’t know how to truly dance and she was almost embarrassed on their behalf, almost. “Do any of them truly know how to dance.. or walk in high heels for that matter?” She asked to no one in particular, sipping her drink once more.
Narcissa watched the guests move through the room, switching clumsy partners and stumbling from drink to drink, song to song and they all laughed too loudly and spoke with too much vigor. It nearly disgusted her though no one would suspect as much. She judged them each, and smiled as they passed by, never letting on that she was making her judgements. As she came to rest beside the dark haired woman, smiling softly. "It sadly seems that most of the girls here have been educated in neither art."
She knew they would be there tonight, all the people she had not seen in far too long and her stomach was alight, and behind the mask her lovely face was alight with emotions that were normally tucked behind a cordial layer of ice. It was familiar for her to wear a mask, but never one so literal and in some sense it was a relief, relaxing a muscle you never knew you had clenched. She was beautiful that night with a dress made of stars and a mask of diamonds, her hair was gold and her skin was ivory. She ought to have been hung among the galaxies, her beauty was deserving but instead she stood beside the makeshift bar, her eyes flitting across the room.
Chantelle sighed heavily as she looked up at the ceiling. Dotted with stars for decoration, the walls almost completely covered and the sound of merriment. She originally had no intention of attending the ball, she would have rather stayed in her dorm, but when a package came in the mail from her mother of a beautiful dress, the young brunette knew that she would be required to attend to appease her mother. Though she had no intention of staying the whole night. Her fingers reach out to grab a glass and she downs half the glass easily. “Merde, I do really hate balls.” She said with a scowl. They reminded her too much of the balls and parties she had been forced to attend as a child.
Narcissa was avoiding thinking of who might be there, the fact Lucius might be tucked in these crowds, and Amycus could be lurking but she did not know, nor was she sure she wanted to. In search of distraction Narcissa spotted Chantelle, who seemed far from entertained or pleased with the whole event, however she was here and clearly in quite a mood. "I can imagine why, they are quite an affair."
"Well, well." Sturgis paused, flute of champagne (that was truly just sparkling cider) in hand, before decisively moving towards the lone figure against the wall, the candlelight softly illuminating their features as he got up close. "What’s a pretty lady like you doing standin’ here all alone?"
Narcissa smiled at him softly as he approached, the cool grace of her expression barely hidden behind her mask as she leaned against the wall, at ease in solitude, but by no means forbidding company. "I'm waiting for someone to catch my attention." She replied softly, her voice tempting.
Amycus Carrow is many things. He’s stubborn and he’s headstrong, but even he is capable of being ensnared and tamed. Exceptional he may be, but there are weaknesses written into him that could easily bring him to his knees if pulled on just right. It’s not the case here, not quite, because Amycus has not lost his edge nor had to concede any ground to Narcissa; but it’s plain that she can see his strings and knows how to play the game more skillfully than she lets on. It’s enough to have Amycus leaning in, surreptitiously shifting closer. It’s normally him reeling in his victims and his playmates, but a challenge is always a thrill.
“It’s a good thing I’m not one to turn down a good challenge then, isn’t it?” He’s not, he’s really not. He likes having to fight for the victory. “And here I thought my owls would be enough to tide you over. I should have graced you with more visits, is that what you’re saying?”
Most men never even saw she was playing the game, they all thought her to be as innocent as her features suggested, surely something so delicate could bear no hint of sophistication. And yet she had the distinct feeling that Amycus knew she had as much knowledge of how to play her part in this interaction as he did, and something about that excited her. For a woman who was always Narcissa was rarely seen. He wanted her challenge, that was clear and a part of her wanted to give it to him, to see if he could ever beat her at this game, but she was wary of a man like Amycus. He was many things, a good number of which frightened her, but he was powerful and Narcissa was a always attracted to a man of control.
"And if you complete the challenge what do you desire as your prize, Mr. Carrow?" She inquired gently, looking away as their drinks were brought forward and she lifted her own to her full lips, tipping her had back and exposing the pale column of her throat, the delicate skin there. She took a sip or to before placing the glass back on the bar. "I'm saying if you want to impress me it would take more than a few owls to do so."
Amycus has never been the sort to feel self-conscious. He’s always know who he is and where he what kind of path he wants to walk. Confidence is written in to his very skin and bones, and it’s only ended up more deeply set with the freedoms of adult life. There’s no manner of bashfulness that washes over him at falling under Narcissa’s gaze now — if anything it only has him p r e e n i n g more. There’s no escaping the fact that he’s weak for a beautiful face, but more than that, there’s something about Narcissa that’s always intrigued Amycus. He can’t ever shake the feeling that there’s more to her than meets the eye, something m o r e hidden beneath the surface — and it feels like that’s true more now than it ever has been. He’s always enjoyed delving under the surface of those he meets to see their true colours, and the promise of seeing what vibrant shades Narcissa might be hiding is too good to pass up.
“Is that supposed to be a challenge? I might just have to take you up on that one.” Because Amycus always t h r i v e s on a good challenge.
”Too long.” He concludes, because it has been. “I’d ask how things are, but judging by your apparent good mood, it seems as if things have been going well for you, sugar.”
Narcissa was the sort of girl who was used to, and bored of men blushing under her gaze, their eyes wide and their demeanors uncomfortable. She was beautiful and that was apparent to all, including herself though she did not handle it with outward arrogance as some did. She moved with charm and ease, as so few did. Most men were intimated to see her, let alone be the object of her attention yet Amycus seemed at ease, perfectly comfortable as her shining blue eyes rested on him, taking in his features carefully, his expressions, his movements. He seemed to watch her too, and she liked it though it was perhaps not so obvious. Narcissa enjoyed being observed, enjoyed being chanced, and enjoyed breaking the hearts of those who came to close. She was demure and played her part so well her victims never even realized the crime, and often neither did she.
"I am many things, a challenge is one of them if you know what you're doing." Her voice was soft as it so often was, almost tempting anyone listening to lean closer, but not demanding it. She turned to the bar tender, flicking her hand before looking over her shoulder at her companion. "I've been better, the castle is a bit duller without any of my usual companions
."