Faye (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
said_scarlett) wrote2004-03-28 10:40 am
said_scarlett) wrote2004-03-28 10:40 am
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A bit of femmeslash. ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
madammalfoy got me thinking about the pairing a few weeks ago, and this is what came of it.
Title: Scarlet Dreams
Author: Lady Feylene
Pairing: Narcissa/Lily
Rating: R
Summary: One does not lust after mudbloods.
Mudbloods weren’t supposed to be pretty.
Narcissa Black sneered over the top of her Charms text, ivory forehead creased in vexation. Blue eyes were narrowed and hardened to chips of ice. All in all, her mask of serene prettiness was fouled.
It was one of the foundations of her world. Mudbloods were filthy, ugly, foul, diseased creatures who were not fit to walk the face of the earth. They were deformed. They were wretched. They were…unprepossessing at the very least!
They were not pretty. They were not embodied of thick, soft hair that seemed to have the color and softness of a butterfly’s wings. They didn’t have laughing green eyes, or rosebud lips, or a slim and inviting form. They didn’t look like someone you would be quite happy to spend an evening with…
That wasn’t the way the world worked.
The world, Narcissa was learning, was a very irritating thing. It refused to follow basic rules, laws or logic. The world didn’t seem to care that crafting a filthy mudblood in the image of Diana herself was sacrilidge.
“I ought to put out her eyes and burn her face beyond all recognition,” Narcissa muttered to herself darkly. Then she wouldn’t be having this problem.
But a small part of her knew it wouldn’t matter. She could rip out the mudblood’s hair, she could scratch that delicate face, she could break the slender nose and tear open those perfectly shaped lips and it wouldn’t matter. It wouldn’t stop the dreams.
Narcissa hated dreams. She had no control over them, and her life was built around control. Not the sort of dominant, aggressive control her sister Bellatrix exerted. But the quiet, reserved, subtle control that society wives had been practicing in both the wizarding and muggle worlds for centuries. She controlled every facet of her face, though from the outside it was impossible to tell. She had arranged and secured her impending marriage to Lucius Malfoy, though her father was of the belief it was his idea. She had gotten Andromeda stricken from the family, though the family believed firmly it was a joint decision. And Narcissa preened in private and played the part of dutiful daughter when the eyes of the world were upon her.
But her dreams refused to be bound or directed. Her dreams were full of green eyes and auburn hair, and sweet candy flavored kisses from rosebud lips.
It was simply not natural. One did not…did not lust after mudbloods, even in one’s dreams. Narcissa didn’t believe any of that rubbish about dreams being secret desires, or that they held the key to the future. Narcissa did not wish to take the mudblood to her bed, nor was she going to. She’d rather bed the Headmaster, at least he was pureblooded.
No. She didn’t want the vixen haired mudblood. She didn’t want to trail her fingers over smooth swells and dips of flesh, didn’t want to breathe deeply the scent of cinnamon skin, didn’t want to tumble down in flashes of gold and red…
But her dreams said different.
madammalfoy got me thinking about the pairing a few weeks ago, and this is what came of it.Title: Scarlet Dreams
Author: Lady Feylene
Pairing: Narcissa/Lily
Rating: R
Summary: One does not lust after mudbloods.
Mudbloods weren’t supposed to be pretty.
Narcissa Black sneered over the top of her Charms text, ivory forehead creased in vexation. Blue eyes were narrowed and hardened to chips of ice. All in all, her mask of serene prettiness was fouled.
It was one of the foundations of her world. Mudbloods were filthy, ugly, foul, diseased creatures who were not fit to walk the face of the earth. They were deformed. They were wretched. They were…unprepossessing at the very least!
They were not pretty. They were not embodied of thick, soft hair that seemed to have the color and softness of a butterfly’s wings. They didn’t have laughing green eyes, or rosebud lips, or a slim and inviting form. They didn’t look like someone you would be quite happy to spend an evening with…
That wasn’t the way the world worked.
The world, Narcissa was learning, was a very irritating thing. It refused to follow basic rules, laws or logic. The world didn’t seem to care that crafting a filthy mudblood in the image of Diana herself was sacrilidge.
“I ought to put out her eyes and burn her face beyond all recognition,” Narcissa muttered to herself darkly. Then she wouldn’t be having this problem.
But a small part of her knew it wouldn’t matter. She could rip out the mudblood’s hair, she could scratch that delicate face, she could break the slender nose and tear open those perfectly shaped lips and it wouldn’t matter. It wouldn’t stop the dreams.
Narcissa hated dreams. She had no control over them, and her life was built around control. Not the sort of dominant, aggressive control her sister Bellatrix exerted. But the quiet, reserved, subtle control that society wives had been practicing in both the wizarding and muggle worlds for centuries. She controlled every facet of her face, though from the outside it was impossible to tell. She had arranged and secured her impending marriage to Lucius Malfoy, though her father was of the belief it was his idea. She had gotten Andromeda stricken from the family, though the family believed firmly it was a joint decision. And Narcissa preened in private and played the part of dutiful daughter when the eyes of the world were upon her.
But her dreams refused to be bound or directed. Her dreams were full of green eyes and auburn hair, and sweet candy flavored kisses from rosebud lips.
It was simply not natural. One did not…did not lust after mudbloods, even in one’s dreams. Narcissa didn’t believe any of that rubbish about dreams being secret desires, or that they held the key to the future. Narcissa did not wish to take the mudblood to her bed, nor was she going to. She’d rather bed the Headmaster, at least he was pureblooded.
No. She didn’t want the vixen haired mudblood. She didn’t want to trail her fingers over smooth swells and dips of flesh, didn’t want to breathe deeply the scent of cinnamon skin, didn’t want to tumble down in flashes of gold and red…
But her dreams said different.
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So...hmm. Now that I have had my Lily/Narcissa fix for the day, I think I'll ask you for the other one I had in mind.
Remus/Draco. You and I have talked about it a bit and I have read so very little of it. Will you write one for me? *big puppy dog eyes* Make it anything you want, dear. So long as those two are involved. You could always throw in a bit of Lucius, too. *g*
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Your wish is my command. How does Remus/Draco on his desk sound?