![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
doll-ofthe-dead.livejournal.com posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
rarepair_shortstitle. While Your Lips Are Still Red
author.![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
doll_ofthe_dead
pairing. Barty Crouch Jr./Narcissa Black
prompt. 'first snow'.
word count. 625.
rating. PG-13.
summery. 'Barty loved Narcissa far too much for a boy who could not love. '
reagarding the song. While Your Lips Are Still Red by Nightwish. You can listen to it here. The fic is written to the momentum of the song, the scenes reflect not only the lyrics, but the mood of the music. I usually try and avoid writing songfics, but this song was just so powerful.
prompt table. here.
Sweet little words made for silence
Not talk
Young heart for love
Not heartache
Dark hair for catching the wind
Not to veil the sight of a cold world
She always looked so angelic in the way that her pale blonde hair would frame her like halo as she lay asleep beside him in his bed. At times like that, he would just stare at her, feeling a cold rush of guilt rise in his throat, knowing how because of him, her little body was no longer her own. She was so fragile in his arms, that at times he enjoyed throwing her down onto the bed, as if hoping by doing so, she would break by his hands, so that she would not by anyone else’s.
Barty loved Narcissa far too much for a boy who could not love. At times he hated how this most delicate a being could have such power over him, causing him to feel anger and affection all at the same time. He wanted to own her, even if only because he could not bear the thought of losing her. How could he, in a few days time, hand her off to Lucius Malfoy? An arranged marriage did not mean that she loved Lucius more, but it meant that at the end of the day, Barty lost.
Kiss while your lips are still red
While he's still silent
Rest while bosom is still untouched, unveiled
Hold another hand while the hand's still without a tool
Drown into eyes while they're still blind
Love while the night still hides the withering dawn
There was pride, though, in knowing that he had been the one who had taken from Narcissa what Lucius thought himself to be taking on their wedding night. Perhaps when Lucius found his white bride was not so preserved, he would refuse the union. Yes, that would make Narcissa no better than the other disowned members of her family, but then she would be his, at least.
It was snowing. The first snow of the year. Narcissa had ventured outside, leaving Barty alone in the bed. He got up to follow her outside where she stood on the balcony. White. She was always dressed in white. She blended in with the snow like a statue of ivory, unmoving and silent.
“I saw my sister Andromeda earlier today,” she said, still stoically gripping to the banister, “Her house was small and it was a mess. Her daughter leaves her toys all over the place. It is like the home of a servant or, someone who has just forgotten the rules of the society they are born into.”
“That is neither here nor there, Cissa. Your sister made some wrong choices and she…”
First day of love never comes back
A passionate hour's never a wasted one
The violin, the poet's hand,
Every thawing heart plays your theme with care
Narcissa cut him off by turning back around to face him, “No. No, she went with the ideas she had with her first and only love. She cried the night she was burned off the tree. Bella was so angry and said Andi was dead to her, and she meant every word of it. I didn’t say anything. I couldn’t. It’s better to stay silent.”
She ran down the stairs of the balcony, her feet leaving small prints in the untouched snow. He followed after her, not even bothering to catch her. She falling snow blended with her white vision. A ghost before her impending death.
And then she was back, throwing snow at him, and laughing as if she had not just been crying. He laughed, he kissed her, knowing he was not the weapon that could break her.
author.
doll_ofthe_deadpairing. Barty Crouch Jr./Narcissa Black
prompt. 'first snow'.
word count. 625.
rating. PG-13.
summery. 'Barty loved Narcissa far too much for a boy who could not love. '
reagarding the song. While Your Lips Are Still Red by Nightwish. You can listen to it here. The fic is written to the momentum of the song, the scenes reflect not only the lyrics, but the mood of the music. I usually try and avoid writing songfics, but this song was just so powerful.
prompt table. here.
Not talk
Young heart for love
Not heartache
Dark hair for catching the wind
Not to veil the sight of a cold world
She always looked so angelic in the way that her pale blonde hair would frame her like halo as she lay asleep beside him in his bed. At times like that, he would just stare at her, feeling a cold rush of guilt rise in his throat, knowing how because of him, her little body was no longer her own. She was so fragile in his arms, that at times he enjoyed throwing her down onto the bed, as if hoping by doing so, she would break by his hands, so that she would not by anyone else’s.
Barty loved Narcissa far too much for a boy who could not love. At times he hated how this most delicate a being could have such power over him, causing him to feel anger and affection all at the same time. He wanted to own her, even if only because he could not bear the thought of losing her. How could he, in a few days time, hand her off to Lucius Malfoy? An arranged marriage did not mean that she loved Lucius more, but it meant that at the end of the day, Barty lost.
While he's still silent
Rest while bosom is still untouched, unveiled
Hold another hand while the hand's still without a tool
Drown into eyes while they're still blind
Love while the night still hides the withering dawn
There was pride, though, in knowing that he had been the one who had taken from Narcissa what Lucius thought himself to be taking on their wedding night. Perhaps when Lucius found his white bride was not so preserved, he would refuse the union. Yes, that would make Narcissa no better than the other disowned members of her family, but then she would be his, at least.
It was snowing. The first snow of the year. Narcissa had ventured outside, leaving Barty alone in the bed. He got up to follow her outside where she stood on the balcony. White. She was always dressed in white. She blended in with the snow like a statue of ivory, unmoving and silent.
“I saw my sister Andromeda earlier today,” she said, still stoically gripping to the banister, “Her house was small and it was a mess. Her daughter leaves her toys all over the place. It is like the home of a servant or, someone who has just forgotten the rules of the society they are born into.”
“That is neither here nor there, Cissa. Your sister made some wrong choices and she…”
A passionate hour's never a wasted one
The violin, the poet's hand,
Every thawing heart plays your theme with care
Narcissa cut him off by turning back around to face him, “No. No, she went with the ideas she had with her first and only love. She cried the night she was burned off the tree. Bella was so angry and said Andi was dead to her, and she meant every word of it. I didn’t say anything. I couldn’t. It’s better to stay silent.”
She ran down the stairs of the balcony, her feet leaving small prints in the untouched snow. He followed after her, not even bothering to catch her. She falling snow blended with her white vision. A ghost before her impending death.
And then she was back, throwing snow at him, and laughing as if she had not just been crying. He laughed, he kissed her, knowing he was not the weapon that could break her.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2007-12-05 03:22 am (UTC)It kinda does sums-up how I see their relationship, and the basis I'm going off as I write about them. He tries to love to the best of his ability. Poor Barty.