The Lords Princess

My long curly dark red curtain of hair fell off the arm of my seat and my legs were hung lazily over the side of the chair facing the end of the room. I was sitting on the left hand side of the long table of the grand hall with my head in my hand and my elbow resting on the table next to my plate. I sighed impatiently and began tapping my enclosed black velvet pumps against the head chairs side in annoyance. Patience wasn't really one of my virtues.

"Will you stop with that incessant tapping you infernal girl!" a fuming hiss caught in my ears as Bellatrix Lestrange glared at me from her position on my left.

I turned and gave her a lazy mocking smirk and just tapped louder on the chair to piss her off.

"Oh, I'm sorry, Bella. Am I annoying you much?" I muttered and smiled at her innocently.

There was a chuckle from across the table and I turned to see an amused Lucius Malfoy smirking smugly in her direction. Everyone knew that she couldn't lay a finger on me- I could do anything I wanted to her. Short of killing her, of course.

Bellatrix growled and glared at me fiercely. "How dare you, you annoying little wench!" She snarled loudly, "Why don't you just go back to Azkaban! Merlin knows you deserve it you pathetic, infernal being! If it were up to me I would Avad-"

"And what will you do to her, Bella? Please share on how you wish to most effectively kill my toy?" A cold drawl filled with mock innocent curiosity filled the room and everyone except me stood.

I smiled up at the 25-year-old-looking man standing before me at the end of the table before he leant to kiss me full on the mouth.

He smirked smugly at the horror stricken Bellatrix standing frozen in fear behind me in my lazy sitting position.

I gave her a toothy smile before taking a sip of the large red wineglass that was placed in front of me. The Dark Lord sat and the rest of his Death Eaters followed suit. I shared an amused smile with Lucius before swinging my legs off the side of the chair to get better access to my plate filled with chicken and pasta.

I kept eating as Voldemort spoke to his silent servants who sat there with empty plates and listened attentively. Idiots, I snarled amusedly in head, They think they have power, the fools. They're just his pawns, morons the lot of them. But Tom has always had a way with words…

Voldemort finished his speech and resumed his seat. He clicked his fingers and the other plates filled up immediately.

As the Death Eaters began their meals I had already finished half of mine. Yet again, patience was not one of my bigger virtues.

I took a rather large gulp from my wine and finished the glass. Snapping my fingers, a house elf was by my side immediately and I ordered for the entire bottle to be brought out.

There was a deep, throaty chuckle from beside me. "Try not to drink that too fast, my dear. We wouldn't want you drunk now would we?"

I turned and gave Voldemort a sarcastic smile and raised my eyebrow mockingly. "So we don't do we? I was under the impression that you liked me drunk."

There was a laugh from across the table and my head snapped in Lucius' direction and gave him a charming smile.

"Are you kidding me? You are absolutely hilarious drunk!" Lucius snickered good-naturedly and gave me another playful smirk. "I know I sure enjoyed your strip tease on the table at our last revel."

I opened my mouth and feigned a indignant look before whining, "Master! Lucius is being meeeeaaannnn!" and pouting cutely.

Voldemort chucked, "Play nice children." He said before turning sharply to Bellatrix who was clutching her steak knife threateningly and giving you a murderous expression, which you ignored with practiced ease.

"That means you too Bella." He snarled, giving the woman a glare that clearly said "You touch my things like how your thinking about touching them and I will make sure you lose your ability to move. Ever. Again."

Smiling slightly at Bella's whimper of fear, I finished off the last of my chicken and leant back in my chair to observe everyone else. Each Death Eater held frivolous conversation with another around them and my eyes stopped at the blond youth towards the center of the table.

A large smile broke out on my face as the boy quirked a eyebrow at my glance and raised his goblet in a secret toast. I took a further sip from mine and raised it inconspicuously at him. He chuckled to himself and bowed his head in mocking of my position next to the Dark Lord.

I gazed at him fondly and snorted, stifling my giggles as the Parkinson girl fawned over him like a leach and lost pug dog. His attempts to push her off with a scrunched up face of complete disdain and disgust only seemed to fuel the idiotic girls attempts of seduction.

Leaning forward in my chair I pressed my fists to my mouth in a futile attempt to stop the laughter spilling.

"You are fond of the boy?" My head snapped up at the stone cold drawl that came from Voldemort's mouth.

"What do you mean?" I asked innocently, knowing all to well about whom he was talking.

He snarled impatiently and shot a frightening glare down the table at the youngest Malfoy. "THE BOY!" he seemed to roar, "Tell me girl!"

I gave him a frightened look, "I want nothing with him, my Lord! You know I would never touch another man but you!" I managed a dignified yet submissive tone before squeaking out, "I just enjoy his conversation, we have never been like that sir, I promise you! Nothing else!"

Voldemort's glare lessened but did not dissipate. "That better be all that goes on when my back is turned. Never forget whom you belong to Isadora. Me and only me, understood?"

"Yes Tom," I muttered, head bowed.

"Good," he finalised crisply. "You may have contact with him, but never alone. Nagini shall watch your encounters and inform me of any funny business. Is that clear?"

"Yes Tom," I conceded again.

I was not as naive to think that he loved me. He was incapable of it, but that did not stop me from knowing that he cared to some level. If Tom was anything, possessive would be it. I was his forever or until he so deemed it and that was how it was to stay.

Sure I was not the type of whimpering girl to back down to anyone, but Tom had a temper that was not natural and could lunge unexpectedly like a venomous cobra, therefore it was not wise to go against him.

He never struck me. No, he never could bring himself to. It was ironic really, how he was willing to do almost anything for his own gain or in his anger but he wouldn't hurt me.

Anyone, who saw fit to do so would be punished, I'm pretty sure that he had killed the boy who took my virginity when I was fifteen just because he was my first!

I sighed and reached my hand up to fiddle with Toms Slytherin necklace that hung just below the hollow of my neck.

I examined the heirloom for the thousandth time since Tom had given it to me. He had said it was important, apiece of him he told me. I was to never take it off and as long as I wore it I would be his and I would be safe.

He had always stressed heavily that I was to never attempt to take it off. Its not like it could come off anyway. There was no clasp and the chain wasn't long enough to take off over my head. Its not like I ever really thought about taking it off, really.

I gasped in surprise and pain as a cool metal object pierced the flesh of my left thigh. I shrunk back into my seat but refused to cry out and I saw the steak knife lodged in my upper thigh through my skirt.

"Aaahh!" I hissed and turned away, my eyes shining with unshed tears that refused to fall due to pure stubbornness. A powerful blow to the jaw sent me careening out of my chair and someone kicked me in the ribs on my left side.

The sound of Voldemort's roar of anger and the crash of his chair as it clattered to the floor was hard to miss as the table went quiet as curious and horrified eyes looked on at the scene.

Warm hands grasped my upper arms gently and pulled me into a sitting position and I heard Lucius' calming voice murmuring things to me in a soothing gesture.

"Brace yourself, Dora. I need to remove the knife so I can heal your leg. This will hurt. Alright?" He whispered gently as he grasped the knives handle.

I nodded numbly and bit my lip as he ripped it cleanly from my leg. Lucius quickly grabbed his wand and muttered some incantations and my leg was fully healed although there was a slightly red scar on the white flesh.

He placed his wand to my jaw and I felt the swelling go down and the pain go away but my ribs still ached. "Lucius," I bit out. "Ribs, Lucius, now!" I finished in a growling voice.

I felt a wand tip gently touch to my ribs and hissed as I felt the broken bones and tissue knit back together.

"There you go love," he muttered from next to me, I could practically feel the smirk in his voice. "Now look, theres something to please any eyes with the right type of humor."

I looked up and wiped my eyes to see Tom gripping Bellatrix's throat with one hand in a vice like grip, lifting her from the floor. Her face was horrorstricken and almost blue from the lack of oxygen.

"How dare you stab her! I have told you time and time again Bella not to touch her! You have gone too far and not heeded my warnings; it's the dungeon for you! Maybe a good old fashion muggle torture session shall make the message clear!" He threw her to the floor and the crazed, jealous woman let out a cry of anguish.

He snapped his fingers and two of his most viscous Death Eaters stepped forward to drag her to the dungeons.

Tom turned to me and spoke softly, "To my quarters Isadora."

I nodded and scuttled off through the massive oak doors to Voldemort's chambers. I leapt up the steps and took off down the corridor, I made a few turns before I reached the foreboding black doors that signified the bedroom of the most evil wizard of all time.

Voldemort was angry. Scratch that, completely and utterly livid. Not even Dumbledore or that Stupid-boy-who-lived-to-make-him-hell-bent-on-killing-his-concieted-little-ass would dare step in his way now.

The room was dead silent, no one dared made a sound so there was no reason for their early death. He almost prayed that someone would speak so he could hex somebody, a few Unforgivables would be more then welcome at the moment.

The feint sounds of Bellatrix's screams and the cracking sounds of the whip could be heard from the dungeons and this bought a cruel smile to Tom's face. "To heck with it."

He aimed his wand at Rodolphus Lestrange and screamed "Crucio!" He smirked again as Rodolphus cowered on the floor in agony. After a few minutes he muttered a "Finite incantatem" and all that was left was a twitching mass of robes on the floor. Ah, Crucio never gets old… Voldemort thought fondly as he twirled his wand between his long piano player fingers and looked down upon the man on hid dining room floor.

"You have failed me, Rodolphus," He sneered.

"F-failed you M-master?" Rodolphus stuttered out, trembling in fear of his Lord.

"Yes," Voldemort answered vaguely before elaborating. "You have failed to keep your wife," he spat out the word as if it were venom, "in check. I have realised that I have been much too merciful on Bella. After my repeated warnings to not touch Isadora in such a way, the bitch still continues to do so for which she shall pay dearly."

"M-my apologies, my Lord. I shall give Bella my own personal punishment when she is released," Rodolphus had gathered some of his strength back by now and was bowing low to the ground.

Voldemort waved his hand in a dismissive manner, "No need Rodolphus, she shall be removed from my Inner Circle and be placed with a… baby sitter of sorts."

He smirked evilly and turned his head in Lucius' direction. "Lucius, as she is your sister-in-law and Rodolphus has failed his duty to keep her in line, you may choose what shall happen to the bint. Feel free to be creative." He saw the blonde mans eyes twinkle slightly with malice and excitement at the prospect of pain and both men smirked cruelly.

"Then take her to your manor, Narcissa should be able to keep her occupied and aware of her actions. Make sure to lock her in one of the smaller wings- close to yours, mind you. She is not to leave," he finished and turned right around before striding purposefully out of the grand doors.

I took off my thin silk emerald dress and hung it over the chair before kicking off my shoes neatly beside it. The room was surprisingly warm and welcoming compared to what you would suspect for a man like Voldemort.

There was a large four poster bed big enough for four people in the center of the back wall of the room. It had black silk sheets with dark blue, almost black pillows, it was draped with thick black curtains to match. The walls were the usual cliché black and had expensive real silver edging. The floor was also carpeted in black. In front of the large mahogany fireplace that took up most of the large wall and was as twice as tall as my head there was a dark black, panther skin that was incredibly soft. Behind it was another mahogany carved coffee table surrounded by two high wing backed sofas and a large three seater love seat coloured the same dark blue of his pillows to match.

Being the lover of knowledge that the Dark Lord was, the entire back wall was covered with books, save for the medium sized double doors that lead to a large, white marble and blue-grey granite bathroom that had silver aspects and snakes with saffire eyes.

Contrary to popular belief, not all Slytherins absolutely adore the colour green. What was even more surprising was Voldemort's disdain for the colour considering that he was the greatest, purest Slytherin there ever was other then Salazar himself. My room was much the same, although considerably smaller and instead of blue and silver, everything was purple and gold without the snakes and Egyptian symbols instead.

Walking in only my undies, I grabbed my thick, soft white blanket that I always kept in his room from off his bed and snuggled myself into his favourite chair by the fire. Although immaculate and well kept, the chair was quite worn and soft. It smelt like him, something akin to asphodel and another scent completely unique to him.

I curled myself in to the crook of the large sofa between the arm and the chairs back and pulled the blanket up to my small chest.

I had to admit, I was not tall nor was I lean. My skin was pale and soft but I lacked the well-toned muscle that most of the tinibopper girls had. I had curves, but not all of them were welcome, my stomach muscles were not as toned and flat as I would have liked and my chest was not particularly large either.

In one word I was petite. But its not like it mattered. I was attractive to Tom and that was all that mattered as no one could have me while he wanted me.

I sat there for a while, contemplating Tom before the man himself threw the doors open. He stalked angrily into the bathroom and I knew without him asking that I was not to follow, not even I could stop him when he went into a rage such as this. His hot rages I could handle, but when they went cold it was best to say nothing until he was able to calm himself down.

After a few minutes he came out of the room clad in only long black cotton pants. I attempted not to stare at his well-sculpted chest and turned back to the fire.

Since his revival, he had Severus Snape create him a potion that would make him look more human and he took on the form of his 25-year-old self. The only problem was that he had to take it at least once a week or he would change back into the disgusting snake-like form he had been resurrected as. He had me taking the potion also, he wanted to live forever and wanted to keep me at his side without me aging.

He padded his way barefooted to where I was sitting and waved his wand over me so my plain crème push up bra was gone and I was left only in my knickers and a short red cotton nightgown with thin straps. I scowled at the colour, but he loved me in red so I never complained about it just to make him happy after many arguments (which I lost) about the very Gryffindor colour I had lamented and stopped winging about it.

"Its time to take your potions, love," he said softly from above me.

I had two potions that I had to take weekly. His twisted form of aging potion, which he called Tractus Minor and another one called Tergo Tersi Tersum, stopped my Cystic Fibrosis from acting up.

It was a lot easier to use then the muggle treatment, and a lot less painful. Although I was still fragile it kept up my strength a lot better then any other treatment and kept my lungs and other organs clear of any mucus the rare disease caused.

Also, once a month he would make me take a contraceptive. It was light pink and smelt sugary, but tasted absolutely disgusting. I hated that one.

Whereas Tractus Minor was acid green with black flecks that had to be injected (even Serverus' potions were Slytherin coloured!) and the Tergo was a dull pastel blue.

He set two glasses of potion down along with a seringe. Damnit, it was time for my contraceptive potion!

Groaning, I moved forward and took the seringe before finding the point in my thigh easily and injected myself with practiced ease. I grabbed the Tergo potion and downed it in one go before moving onto the last glass of contraceptive potion.

I scrunched my face up and scowled at the dark red mixture in th- wait a minute. Dark red? Why was it dark red and why didn't it smell the same?

The potion had little silver flecks in it, like glitter. I looked up at Tom questioningly. "What is this?" I asked and frowned at him, picking up the glass and motioning to it.

"It's a fertility potion," He answered matter-of-factly like it was no big deal.

"Fertility potion? What on earth do I need one of those for?" I asked incredulously and stared at the liquid with distaste. It then dawned on me. Oh no.

"I want a heir, and you are the best possible choice Dora. I want you to mother my child, and I want it to be soon." He stated, and gazed at me with a cool expression, as though baring Lord Voldemort's child was a everyday thing.

"No!" I gasped out loudly without thinking.

His dark blue, almost black eyes narrowed on me in anger. I cowered slightly back in my chair. Oh dear. Stupid, stupid Isadora! He took my little hysterical gasp as a sign of rejection on my part, and Tom Riddle and Lord Voldemort did not take defiance or rejection well at all.

"You don't want my child?" He growled dangerously, his eyes flashed red. "It is a honor to bear my child! You should think yourself lucky!" He shouted the last part and moved to grab my shoulders tightly.

"NO! No, you misunderstand my meaning! I do want your children! But I'm not ready for children Tom! Please reconsider! I'm only 18!" I wailed and pleaded. I couldn't cry. Don't get me wrong, I'm not one of those people who refuse to cry- I'm just physically unable to do so. If I could, there would be tears streaming down my cheeks. Why did I have to be born so stunted?

"It has been decided!" He boomed, relaxing his grip on my arms from 'death strangle and blue turning' to 'firm but gentle.' "Now take the potion before I make you and throw you on that bed. I do not enjoy taking you by force, Dora." He growled before letting me go.

I reached a shaky hand forward after deciding that it was best to do as I was told before I was seriously injured. Of course, he wouldn't do it. But he would send me to McNair and Dolohov and that was not pretty. He had sent me to them before and it was a very humiliating and painful experience that I'd rather not repeat.

I grasped the glass with white knuckles and drunk it down. Surprisingly, it tasted much better then that stupid contraceptive potion. Like berries.

"See," Tom said softly and sat down on the arm of his large wing backed chair that I was sitting on and stroked my hair in a soothing motion, "It wasn't all that bad now was it?"

I turned my eyes down and picked at my white blanket that was still strewn across my lap. "No, sir." I muttered.

"Good. Now, come along. We need to get to it before while the potion is its most potent." He told me softly in a somewhat patronizing voice.

He hooked his arms underneath my shoulders and knees before lifting me effortlessly off the sofa bridal style, my blanket completely forgotten on the floor as he carried me to the bed.

I scowled at him as he placed me on the bed. Cocky barstard. What was it with males and being arrogant prats?

He ripped off my nightgown and began to kiss my neck .As I felt his lips and the silk sheets on my bare back all trains of thought were gone. Banished by what he was doing to me.

He may be a arrogant, egotistical, evil monster, but Merlin he was good in bed. He slipped off my underwear and continued his ministrations.

Sometime later he rolled off me and hugged me to him with a possessive arm. Both of us still slightly dazed in the glory of our sex.

We had done it at least 4 times and I had gone over the edge about three times more then that. He was still an evil prat though.

As he pulled the sheet up over us and hugged me close to him, I realised with sudden shock of what this had really meant. We had just started my pregnancy. Oh God. I was probably pregnant right now!

I mentally scoffed at that last thought. I couldn't be pregnant right now, it would take at least a hour of so before I was completely in the deep end.

Bugger! I wasn't ready for a child! Nevertheless a evil prodigy child and son/daughter of the most evil wizard of all time! I'm in over my head, no doubt about it now… I fell asleep before I could continue worrying about having children.