bakerstreet | Glad I crashed the wedding

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[meme] shipping

Glad I crashed the wedding

CRASHED THE WEDDING

Church bells chime out through the air. Forget just the bride - everything's decked out in white! There's going to a wedding today, which means there's certainly going to be a wedding night when the sun goes down. This should be a happy event! So what's the problem? It's not your wedding, but you want the person getting married badly. They're a crush, a former lover, a forbidden fruit, someone you just want for yourself, what have you.

There's only one thing for it: you're going to crash the wedding, the two of you will "elope" - whether you plan to marry them or not - and then, you'll have your own honey moon. Hopefully, the person you're desiring to know in all the most carnal ways wants to be rescued...

...if not, you may just steal them anyway.

HOW TO PLAY

Comment with your character, the role you'd like them to play, and any preferences.
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PROMPTS

Mutual: They didn't want to get married to that other person anyway.
Conflicted: One party's still unsure or guilty on some level, but those doubts are slowly fading away.
Unwanted: You quite literally stole them away, possibly kicking and screaming.

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((he'll be the one getting married.))

[This should be interesting.]

[ most likely the one doing the crashing. why? that's for you to find out ]

[ probably crashing ]

( Bellatrix looks at her respectable pureblood match as the warlock-priest drones on and on about bloodlines, virtue, honour, and beyond all, duty. And duty is what this is, make no mistake, not even after years of the kind of friendship Slytherins had with each other. Well, perhaps they had been closer than that, as friends, for a while, but all those things must be buried when one's father negotiates a marriage over one's head. And buried she had it, alright, six feet under earth cluttered with hastily discarded clothing as she went on to fuck her future husband's cousin instead.

She wonders if Rodolphus knows. It's one of the many questions she could, perhaps, ask him, but that would require spending time in his presence, a thing she'll have to do in abundance in the future as is, so why created even more reason for that?

Her expression betrays none of that. Her wedding dress is sleek, long-sleeved to cover up the Dark Mark, equal parts a symbol for her loyalty to the Cause, to the virtues her family has stood for for centuries, and... Perhaps a hint of rebellion. Perhaps. There have been no female Death Eaters before her, or so she has been told, and while her family would happily go as far as to sell a son into the Dark Lord's services, they wouldn't consider it an appropriate path for her.

Well, they'll have to live with it, once this here deal is sealed and she's, in spite her revulsion at the thought, made Bellatrix Lestrange. She's not letting herself think of alternatives.

The priest just asked a question. Even a quarter second of silence feels like an eternity. )

[ Rodolphus knows perfectly well, and Lucius fancies that he hadn't cared because of exactly this moment - Rodolphus knew that ultimately it would be him at the altar with the most beautiful girl in their generation. Cygnus fancied Lucius for his daughter, of course. Just not this one. Andromeda, perhaps, or little Narcissa, but intriguingly violent Bellatrix was for the Lestranges.

Lucius knows what is expected is that he remain silent as his cousin smiles smugly. That he, the best man, stand calm and aloof and pretend, he thinks, that he hasn't had the bride every way they could imagine. He has already handed over the rings, and this, this is just one more moment.

He watches Bella's face beneath the white lace veil. ]

I object.

[ He doesn't rest on his laurels, as Rodolphus turns with growing rage on his face and his wand already at the ready. He's faster, and he's already moving, and he grabs Bella's hand in his before he Disapparates both of them away.

She might object, he thinks. She might have wanted to go through with it - for her family if nothing else - and there's just a small hint of uncertainty as they reappear on the most northern part of Scotland. He pushes her veil from her face. ]

It was becoming tedious.

( One moment, she sees Rodolphus' dumbstruck expression turning to rage, she sees her father look up with a mixture of anger and horror, her mother is fainting (genuinely or faking it, Bella doesn't have the time to tell). She draws her wand as Rodolphus does, and then they're gone. The ceremony, the wedding guests, London, all gone. There is about a baker's dozen of scenarios playing just at the top of her head while Lucius efficiently obliterates her wedding and apparates with her to... Scotland, she would guess, but she doesn't have the time to process all of them, let alone sort them by likeliness.

Lucius brushes back her veil and the first thing she does as an unmarried woman is to hiss the following words: )

How dare you?

( The second thing is to close the distance and kiss him. Eventually, even she will need air, and while she doesn't step back, she does withdraw enough to laugh, the anger from just a moment ago blown away. )

Did you see the look on his face?

[ They've been together but not together long enough for him to expect the anger, and he manages to arch a single eyebrow before she's in his arms and kissing him. He kisses her back, with a desperate intensity that's edged with possessiveness. Maybe that's new, but it's more likely that it's always been there.

And they just pretended it wasn't. ]

He wants me dead. I daresay he was about to cast the Killing Curse; he's fond of that one.

[ That shouldn't make him grin wolfishly, but here they are. ]

( If she minds the possessiveness... Well, if she did, he would likely have found out by now. After all, she's still in her wedding dress. But it's true, quite a few things have passed between them that neither would speak of, because what's the point? Rodolphus had seemed inevitable, but now they have very successfully evaded him, and now the things they dodged could, theoretically, come out into the open.

Theoretically. )

In front of all his family, all my family, and the entirety of pureblood society? Doubt it.

( Oh Merlin, the Dark Lord was there. )

But he almost definitely considered it for longer than safe. ( Safe being a keyword. ) What were you –– Thank you. But what were you thinking? He could have very well killed you.

[ The Dark Lord was there, and frankly Lucius does not yet know their lord well enough to know how he'd react to these kinds of dramatics. That's what the paling is from, not any attempt Rodolphus might still make on his life.

He shakes it off. ]

I was thinking that I hated the idea of you lying on your back in the dark. I'm faster than he, to his everlasting annoyance. He could have killed me, but probably not, darling.

[ He pulls the veil all the way off now, and flings it so it floats over the rocks and into the North Sea. ]

Marry me instead.

I would have thought of you, anyway.

( She tries to shrug it off, but the truth is, even the high and mighty Bellatrix Black dreaded the idea of her wedding night, and the idea of Lucius would have been as close to a defence mechanism as she has ever had. For someone who usually prefers to face hell head on, that is a lot.

She watches the waves swallow the veil, and she tosses her rings to follow – and that's when he poses his suggestion.

Proposes it, so to say. She's barely kept her mask in place as is between the ceremony and the here and now, but now, there's a moment where it cracks completely, and he can very much tell that there's more than one emotion going rampant inside of her. )

I would have thought of you, anyway, so how could I mind making it true?

( She doesn't. She's not smiling –– Merlin knows, an Heir is an Heir who will eventually require just that of her –– but she is smirking. )

I want to marry you. ( She looks him straight in the eye, no distractions, screw nature and his fine robes. ) But I don't want to be a wife.

[ There's a pleased smirk at the idea that she would have thought of him - even if he would have rather not thought of her at all, and even if ultimately the years of training in following the path their parents set and propriety had snapped at the very idea of Rodolphus touching her at all

The smirk fades into a frown as she continues to speak. He is a boy with all the advantages, and at first he doesn't quite understand. But he's an observant boy too, and he knows the place well bred witches occupy in their world. ]

I do not want you to sit in a manor and plan parties and what color you should charm the parlor next.

[ The wind catches her hair, and then his fingers do. ]

If that's what you mean, Bellatrix.

( Her smirk has faded out as well, and it takes some self-control for her not to lean into his touch, or otherwise distract him away from this talk. Merlin knows, she's thought about marrying him instead, both in the most pragmatic of senses, where he simply is the less offensive joys, and in the murky emotional ones, when she'd stayed in his bed just a little longer than necessary and thought of not leaving at all instead. And a part significantly smaller than the murky emotional one dealt with one particular problem, and that is the fact that her absolute refusal to be the wife she is, by blood, supposed to be would more likely than not ruin the relationship she could otherwise think of as perfect. )

In part. Lucius, it makes no difference that I ( the pause that she needs to emotionally discharge what she very nearly said would be undetectable to most, but he no doubt notices it ) care about you, I will not have children. I did not hold the same respect for Rodolphus, and him I told he would get his heir after the war, but the truth is, I intended to fight him on it then, and I will not yield to you just because I am emotionally compromised around you.

Edited 2018-03-03 20:37 (UTC)

[ At eighteen, some boys, perhaps, aren't even thinking about children. Lucius has never had that luxury. Expectations weigh upon him. He has to have a son, to carry on the name, and he's expected to have him with a witch very much like Bella.

He has to have Bella, and she won't have a son. He could rationalize and convince himself that she'll change her mind in time, but he knows her. She won't.

He's silent as this wars inside him, and then he exhales. She knows well enough to know when she's won. ]

You'll understand if we don't mention that detail to my father, I suppose.

( She nods. )

You'll understand that my mother will assume at great lengths that dedicated attempts are being made.

( In the future, perhaps, her stance will change –– perhaps not in regard to the idea of carrying a child to term and ultimately having to give birth to it, but certainly she'll be more willing to acknowledge the necessities when she isn't eighteen years old, in the middle of a scandal, and delirious with feelings at the sudden, intense realisation that a boy she'd wanted to be with time and time again was now going to be hers officially.

He'll find himself with an armful of runaway bride wrapped around him just then. )

Thank you so much.

I'm sure we can look very dedicated, when the time comes.

[ But neither of them will be welcome, not for some time. Lucius has been in the vicinity of the Black family long enough to know that much. His father? Well, he'll forgive them eventually. Abraxas Malfoy is enough of a romantic to enjoy the story a few years down the road, and less than fond of his late wife's relatives.

Cygnus Black, however. He doesn't think either of them will be invited to dinner any time soon. But if he can not care about the heir, he certainly doesn't care about her parents.

He kisses her again. ]

Iceland seems wisest, I daresay, before an enterprising relative of yours starts methodically checking all the Malfoy properties.

( Bella is still contemplating pros and cons. It's safe to say she won't be disowned – but everything else comes with unpredictable odds. They are both members of the Sacred Twenty-Eight. The Black family might loathe the scandal, but like most all arguments between the purest of the pure, it's now important to thread likely. After all, scandal or no scandal, they can't treat Bellatrix making off with the Malfoy heir like they would treat her making off with a mudblood, not without political repercussions. Meanwhile, they can't pretend it's perfectly acceptable, considering the spurred Lestrange heir on the other side of the coin. Much of the same will apply to Abraxas –– though the Malfoys aren't quite so numerous, so there will be fewer potioneers tossing their ingredients into the cauldron. )

He is speaking of war. ( An upcoming one, and of course he knows whom she is speaking of. ) Too much travelling would rouse Ministry suspicion.

( She also hates the idea of running away, because there's no war yet, and the value of a tactical retreat is not what the proud Blacks stand for. )

Is your father likely to publicly imply that I could be an inappropriate match for you? Ill-timed, yes, scandalous, yes, but inappropriate enough to warrant action? The fall-out would be disastrous, my family knows this as well as we do. ( She is, however, quite sure she'll get the cold shoulder for a while – it might be years until communication is possible again beyond carefully chosen polite phraseologisms. )

[ Lucius arches an eyebrow and offers her an arm, because if they aren't going to elope to an even more frozen island - then they might as well find somewhere more comfortable to discuss.

Malfoys know well the value of a tactical retreat and of playing both sides of a situation. An Icelandic elopement would take them out of England for a few enough days for Abraxas to cool down. But the Dark Lord is, in all things, a more dangerous prospect than his father is, and he can ill afford to displease him, not if he wants to rise. ]

My father would hardly consider the eldest Black heiress anything but the best possible match, if it were not for the awkwardness of dealing with Uncle. He isn't, however, likely to take Rodolphus and Rodolphinus' sides over me, ultimately. However...

[ He slants a look at Bella. They seem to have crossed over some invisible ward, and where the rubble of a castle ruin had appeared before now stands an imposing gray stone fortress that rivals Azkaban in impenetrability. It is not what one would consider the usual Malfoy style. He imagines Bella might like it better for that. ]

If we are missing for a few days, return married and, perhaps, with something of value for the war, I think forgiveness is likely for all parties. Eventually.

Agreed...

( She trails off as Castle Malfoy reveals itself, and this is quite the point where she becomes deeply tempted to pinch herself, because they have now crossed from 'an overwhelming turn of events' to 'neither he nor this can possibly real'.

The amusement in her voice is tangible, exasperated, and, doth his ears deceive him, tinged with an underlying fondness. )

Are you quite done surprising me today, Lucius?

( If nothing else, some tension seems to fall away, and this time, she kisses him, and more importantly, allows herself to be properly distracted by the kiss. )

I would almost bet this has a library rich enough to yield something to soothe our Lord with.

[ It isn't as if the Black estates aren't opulent in their own dramatic and brooding ways, with the exception of the sparkling white manor that showed well for weddings and thus had been where they had just surprised most of wizarding society.

But it's true that Malfoys have their own sense of ~~importance~~ dramatics. ]

When you do such interesting things when you're surprised?

[ A bystander would think they were the bride and groom. Lucius is elegant enough in his best man's robes, after all, and Bella beautiful in her wedding dress. But there are no bystanders at Castle Malfoy, only a pair of house elves, Albie and Clorie, and they keep well out of the way. ]

It's Armand Malfoy's library. I can virtually guarantee something for His unique version of soothing.

( No doubt she looks more like a bride next to him than she has done next to Rodolphus. Her husband-to-not-be had her by his side in a wedding dress, but even in the months ahead, she had barely bothered to look at him. Now, Bella isn't the type to show feelings that aren't open contempt or her favourite haughty arrogance – even now, she's hardly a giggling mess of overflowing joy. Still, the difference is nearly tangible, especially for someone who has spent some private hours with her. It's in the way she's brushing against him when it can only have been purpose, or the fact that she does smile, or that she is relaxed enough to appear at least intrigued by the entrance hall. Rodolphus could have built her this very castle from scratch and it would only have earned him a raised eyebrow and a cold shoulder. )

Then we are set.

( Well, they both know they're not. But the Dark Lord is a primary concern, more likely to move fast and demote faster than either of their families, both of which are likely still grappling with the politics of their scandal. )

You should show me around, but... ( She draws closer, and kisses him again, and it's guaranteed that nothing short of the end of the world could distract him from that kiss. ) You do owe me a wedding night. Now that I can have it with someone I like.

[ When it comes to problems, his father is the least of them. Her parents are a bit thornier, the extended Black family a minefield, but the real challenge is Lord Voldemort. They both intend to rise in the ranks, and this is hardly likely to do them any favors.

But his ancestor can.

Later, he thinks as he kisses her back and pulls her close. The air shimmers around them, and moments later they find themselves in an expansive and opulent bedchamber. ]

I hope you don't mind it being free of the red rose petals your littlest sister was daydreaming about this morning, darling.

( It speaks a lot about Bella's faith in him, that fact that he knows she wants to rise.

But it's unarguably true, their Lord is never fond of disruption and malcontent in his ranks, and with their little elopement, they'll have caused, and will be causing, both. Rodolphus will be utterly displeased, as will his father be, and while Lucius is precisely where he ought to be, as a young, talented heir to a Pure name, Bellatrix is very, very much not. According to some. To keep the Dark Lord's favour is essential.

But then, she's young, and nothing if not entirely convinced of her own abilities (and the richness of Armand Malfoy's library). This feels salvageable.

Anyway, the face she makes at his comment is speaking volumes, and not the horny kind it usually does when they're in this position. )

Don't bring up my sister.

[ There is no one who appears as contrite as a young man very suddenly in danger of not getting his hands full of hopefully soon to be naked witch, and Lucius looks, briefly, very contrite indeed. Pride keeps it from lasting long, though the skim of his his knuckles along her cheek is perhaps....concilitory ]

Of course, Bella.

[ He tugs her closer. There's the very slight sound of ripping lace as he does ]

Maybe we should avoid bringing up anything at all, for a bit, mm?

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Glad I crashed the wedding

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w e l p

here come the dramatics

reaching new levels of extra

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