Frail Wings - 4

Sorry for the wait.

Droplets of water slid along skin that hadn't seen the sun for months.

He chased it in a spiral with the tip of the knife. Thin lines of red appeared wherever he pressed the blade even though it floated over the skin like a feather. More spirals appeared as he drew on her. Some small, some large, spinning endlessly on top of the pale flesh. They went faster as he added to the collection.

Yet, she still didn't make a sound when the blade made contact.

Barty lifted the knife to press against her cheek barely a centimeter below her closed left eye. The other was likely closed as well, squeezed shut. Her jaw was taut, the small muscles straining even with her mouth clamped around a piece of the comforter. Not one sound had escaped her because of it. Not one delicious moan filled the air when he made the cuts, not even after.

Evidently she was trying not to make a sound with the spell back in place. Back to denying what she felt, the pool of heat that must be collecting in the pit of her stomach. If he lowered his one hand from keeping her own in place to instead curl around her cunt it would likely be throbbing, hot, wet with want-need. And she denied herself.

He smirked, resting the top edge of the blade against her cheek, light as a feather. The line of blood didn't even move when he drew the metal away, too thin to do anything other than stay and not growing as the seconds ticked by.

The clock in the corner sounded with each one, a small soft sound coming from it that he hardly heard when he was moving the knife over her skin. From the twitch in her muscles each time it went off she had to be hearing it crystal clear. It had to be driving her crazy.

A soft laugh escaped him as he drew the blade back down, connecting with the center of the highest spiral and going straight down across the skin until the line of red met with the beginning swirl of another spiral. He drew another line from the center of that one, working his way down through them until the blade slid down one of her fingers to the edge of the nail and he started again with the second highest spiral.

He drew the blade over her skin slowly, lifting with care when he came to the end of the line he was working on to press against a new point. By the time the second set was done the specks of water on her arm were gone.

If he raised his gaze he would see more precious drops on her back that was no longer colored a deep red. She had washed away the blood just as he had instructed her to do. The two cuts on her back, beginning beneath the shoulder blades to end around five inches above her waist were clean. The thread was keeping them closed, the blood at bay so it wasn't flowing like a river the night before.

His neck was still sore from when she wrapped the chain around it and he rubbed at the spot for a moment, allowing himself to with her eyes closed as they were. It wouldn't do for her to see that it bothered him still. That feeling of the air slipping out of him, lungs constricting, heart beating faster to deliver oxygen that wasn't present. That bloody panic springing into him when the chain was wound even tighter.

He still had to wonder what she had been thinking at the time. It's not like she would even be able to get out of the room with no way to cast magic on the heavily warded door. Not like another Death Eater wouldn't come to see why he wasn't reporting in when his lord summoned him. She would be brought before him then, most likely tortured and then killed for what she had done.

How she could sentence herself to death if it had worked was beyond him. Sure, she would have been freed of him, but she would still be trapped. Those facts didn't sit well with him.

Barty pressed the knife to the center of a spiral to begin with the third set of lines as he leaned over, breath stirring a few strands of dry hair. "You're never leaving me, little lion. No matter how you scratch at the cage, bite at the bars, you are staying here. I won't ever let you go. You can be as troublesome as you like, but it won't change anything." His gaze lowered as he spoke, noting the little jump her body had made when he started speaking. The way the veins on her throat beat faster.

He ducked his head down to run his tongue along the nape of her neck, feeling the flutter of her heart. A gasp met his ears and his gaze slid to see her mouth was open, lips parted, eyes still firmly shut as she panted directly into his ear. That last part was surely the least intentional. Still, he brought his teeth down to nip at the skin, to hear a strangled half moan.

Barty sighed into her. That's what he had wanted to hear. Beautiful, like music to his ears and he bit at her skin again to hear another escape from her lungs that she tried to keep locked down.

A sharp rasp made his head snap up and turn, gaze landing on the door of his room. There was a louder moan from beneath him but before he could hear the end of it a voice came through the wood, "Sir, there's some guests that are here to see you about 'internal matters.'"

His eyes narrowed at the message. One that he couldn't put off for later because he would have to see to this himself. These people had to have the worst timing ever.

He glanced back down to Hermione, one eye - her left eye - had slid open and he met her gaze. "Sir-"

"I heard you the first time!" He snapped over his shoulder, pleased when the voice beyond went silent. Barty turned back to look at her again but her eye had shut once more. With a sigh he drew the blade away, leaving the third trail near completion for now. He could continue when he got back. Barty leaned down, pressing his nose to her wet curly brown strands and breathing in the natural clean scent that came from her. "Don't move," he murmured into her hair before withdrawing himself from the spot next to her.

He stood up, wiping the blade off on the towel she hadn't had the time to use before sliding it into the sheath at his hip that was soon covered by his robe that he pulled from on top of the duvet. With one last glance at the sketch he had made on her arm he turned and walked from the room, the doors sliding open for him and shutting once he had crossed the threshold. "Where are they?"

"The sitting room, sir." The other Death Eater was looking down the hall as he spoke. If he remembered what Barty had told him his gaze would have stayed there and away from the door when it opened. Away from his prize.

"Go back to your post and double the patrols around the perimeter." The man left right after the order was given, heading in the opposite direction he went.

He didn't run into any other guards or patrols on the short walk to the sitting room. Though as he stood in the doorway he wished he had sped up. Fenrir Greyback was among the five that were seated on the chairs and couch. This was going to take longer than he had first thought with that stupid mutt here as well.

"Barty," Bellatrix Lestrange announced from her seat with a wide grin. "It's so good of you to join us. We have a new member in our ranks, though he sadly couldn't be here. School is keeping dear Draco out from our meetings. It's almost sad, but he will have the pleasure of killing that foolish Headmaster so really it's quite the joyous occasion."

The reminder that that child was going to be the one to do such an important deed made him sneer, "Then the ferret should be careful not to miss his mark like his father would even if he stopped shivering for a second."

A frown settled on the woman's face. "His paternal parentage is unfortunate, but even so he should have no problem following our Lord's orders. You did write up a rather efficient book on Vanishing Cabinets for him." She had to mean the instructions he had made after making the suggestion of using one of the cabinets to get into Hogwarts undetected. The use of polyjuice wasn't in the equation after last year. Dumbledore would be looking out for another body switch.

"That's all well and good to know, again." Thorfinn Rowle injected himself into the conversation. "But we didn't come here to talk about matters with problems that have already been established."

"No," Bellatrix conceded. "There's a new type of pooch in Hogwarts this year, likes to wear pink." The woman shivered at the word as if just saying it made her clothes change in that color, like it was clinging to her skin this instant. "She could become a complication if we let her roam freely while Draco is doing his task."

"Bribe her and be done with it then," Fenrir growled. "I have better places to be than here." So do I mongrel.

Bellatrix narrowed her eyes at the werewolf and stood from her chair. For a moment Barty wondered if he would need to stop a fight but she turned from the creature and addressed the rest of the room. "I think she could be useful if she accepted our Lord's return. She's as deep in denial as that Minister of Magic."

There was a short laugh from where the Carrows sat. "It's possible to be in that deep?" Amycus asked as his sister, Alecto snickered on his right. The two siblings were on the couch, closer than blood kin should be. The sight of the two like that was sickening.

Bellatrix smirked over at the them. "Not quite. Though that would be a grandiose accomplishment. No," she snapped with bite here. "She appears to have a hate for half breeds, and there are rumors that she has used unpleasant measures to accomplish her duties. On top of that she holds a nice position in the Ministry. Our Lord could use someone like that."

From what he had heard it was an accurate observation and he had to wonder who had put the idea in her head so that she bothered to think it through since his Lord hadn't spoken about using Umbridge before. "He could. Perhaps you should talk to Yaxley about it. Convince her to be lenient with the ferret if you want." If it will make you shut up about your plans for gaining favor with the Lord and leave my household.

"What's that?" Fenrir spoke before Bellatrix could respond and was pointing at his neck. "That mark on your neck. The mudblood giving you trouble?"

He turned to look at the werewolf, debating on ripping it's head off for questioning if he could handle his prize or not. That he wasn't fit for his position if the girl just happened to surprise him once. It was because of that mark that he had taken away the chain for the time being incase she tried the trick again. "She pretended to be a Death Eater and lost," he kept his tone neutral even though he would like to rip the dog's tongue from it's mouth.

"Yaxley believes he's too busy for another task." Bellatrix continued on as if the mutt hadn't spoken.

Barty tore his gaze from the wolf to focus on her. "Believes? Or he thinks your orders don't hold merit."

A smile was twisting her lips up as she met his gaze. "Thinks," from the tone of her voice her mind was decided.

"Can I go then?" Fenrir asked from his seat and Barty had to wonder why she had bothered bringing him to this meeting anyway if he couldn't shut up for two seconds.

Bellatrix whirled quickly now that the wolf was addressing her again. "Keep your filthy maw shut tight, mutt! If you can't follow my orders I will find someone who can." She glared at the werewolf even as she yelled at Thorfinn who wasn't sitting more than a few feet away from her. "Rowle! Send the message to Yaxley, and I want a report when I get there. The rest of you are dismissed."

Fenrir was up and out of the room first, followed by the Carrows. Rowle apparated away with a loud snap, leaving just him and Bellatrix in the sitting room.

"What else did you need?" he asked, leaning against the wall next to the door. She had to have more of a reason for coming out this way than just that 'discussion.'

Bellatrix didn't reply right away, instead waiting for the footsteps to become silent before answering, "Our Lord would like some doll's eyes procured from the valley of bleeding locust beyond the graveyard tree."

Of course. "He'll have the items in a few days."

Bellatrix nodded, satisfied, though she still didn't move or disappear from the room. "How is the mudblood?"

"Obedient," he replied instantly, not even blinking when she asked the question out of the blue. Her raised eyebrow at his throat made him frown. "Besides that. If you had been here earlier you could have seen her on the table."

"You're taking audience members now?"

"No." When her smile dropped he added, "The only member is Alastor. If you find him you should bring him here. He's been missing out on so much since the Tournament."

Her eyes glittered. "That is a crime he should atone for." Bellatrix turned to the fireplace then, eying the ash. "They still haven't tried to get her." From the twitch in her fingers she wanted them to try it.

"Because they know they would lose in an outright attack."

"They're gambling with her sanity." Bellatrix stepped forward into the ash, turning to grab at the floo powder then shouted out her destination with glee before disappearing in the roar of green flames.

With her finally gone he left the room in a hurry, only slowing when he got to the door of his room and opened it. He smirked as he entered, seeing that her mouth was still open and not locked around the blanket like before. Without moving the door closed behind him as he pulled his robe back off and let it land on the floor. "Did you miss me, little lion?" he asked, upon seeing her eyes were open and hazy with desire.

"Yes, Bar-"

"No." he stopped her before she could finish. "What did I tell you?"

There was a flicker of fire in her eyes, a muscle twitching, before she breathed the words out, "Yes, Master."

He smirked as he walked over to settle on the bed and drew his knife from the sheath. "What did you miss about me?" Even as he slid the blade into place on that third line and drew down he listened for her answer.

Her mouth opened then closed, tongue peeking out from her lips as she licked at them. He wished she wouldn't do that. Each time he could feel his patience chipping away. "Knife," she huffed and he couldn't help but laugh.

"That's all? You miss the pleasure I give you, but nothing more, huh? You're quite the little whore." He withdrew the blade as he reached her middle nail, grinning when she whined. "I think you forgot something, little lion. This is a punishment not a reward. Don't go forgetting what you did." He tapped at her neck with one finger.

"But-" Her mouth closed and she licked at her lips again. "Wasn't I already punished?"

He met her gaze, eyes still cloudy with lust, want, need. "Do you think you deserve a reward when a day hasn't passed since you tried to kill me?"

She was silent as he moved the blade up before putting it back to her skin. "No."

"No, what?"

Her eyes slid closed and he frowned, drawing his finger down her neck to rub at a bite mark he had left there earlier. There was water slipping along her cheek, at least that's what he first thought until he saw more gleamy paths appearing on her face. That any other evidence of the droplets was gone from her body, even her hair was mostly dry. "Please," the word came out in a sob and he slowed the blade. "Stop."

Barty lifted his finger from her neck, running it along her cheek, beneath her eyes until the tears stopped. He bent forward as the blade crawled over her skin, hovering over her. "Sing for me."

A moan glided over his ears and he closed his eyes, listening as she filled the room with her song.