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hp_goldenage2022-03-09 10:29 am
hpgoldenage_mod) wrote in hp_goldenage2022-03-09 10:29 am
Entry tags:
Salt and Pepper Fest: had a vision of you, burning on my mind
Title: had a vision of you, burning on my mind
Author:![[archiveofourown.org profile]](https://p.dreamwidth.org/b164c54b26e4/-/archiveofourown.org/favicon.ico)
whenthewindhowlsitdoessogently
Characters/Pairings: Narcissa Black Malfoy, Andromeda Black Tonks; Narcissa Black Malfoy/Andromeda Black Tonks
Rating: Mature
Word Count: 1293
Content/Warning(s): mentions of canonical character death, incestuous relationship
Summary/Prompt: After everything's come to an end, a beginning arrives as if from the bottom of the earth. Prompt: As she grows older, Narcissa comes to regret cutting off ties with her only surviving sister, and decides to contact her for the first time in decades.
A/N: Title from going to scotland by the Mountain goats.
Read on AO3 or below:
Under the dark red sky, Andromeda lights her cigarette. She uses a lighter instead of her wand. The click of it reverberates through her thumb and she feels warmth like wildfire spread through her body as she takes her first drag. The trees around her house stand tall and she wonders if her dress would light on fire if she dropped her cigarette. She feels like a child again for a second, lured by fire and the destruction it brings. But, she thinks, she knows better now, even if by not a lot, even if it didn’t mean anything in the end.
She looks around, the land before her lays bare at her feet and it doesn’t feel like she’s lived here for as long as she has. Most of her life spent in this house only for it to feel empty now. On the patio, there’s a chair with Dora’s initials scrawled under it. One day, in a haze of something Andromeda doesn’t know how to name, she tried to throw it out- and then tried to spell it away but it persisted like nothing she's ever seen. If she had anything worth saving left in her she might have believed all this was because of Dora. She still clenches her hand around the chair handle, watches the smoke rise.
When she feels the ground under her shake, she doesn't think anything of it at first, she never really trusted her mind, even before the war, before she lost Dora, but now she feels as if strung on a livewire, with no end.
But, the shake doesn't seem to stop and she feels something unsettling at the bottom of her chest, something familiar spreading through her fingertips. When she sees Narcissa bloom out of the fog, she loses her breath.
"I didn't think you were actually living here," Narcissa says, calm, in the way she says everything- as if the world is waiting for her to conquer it.
"Why are you here?" Andromeda says, because, whether it means anything anymore or not, she was raised in the Black household as well. She was taught pretension before anything else.
"To see you." Narcissa says, vulnerable in a way that's new to her, something Andromeda doesn't remember seeing.
Andromeda says, "Come in."
___
"I'm sorry about Tonks." Narcissa says, her fingers tapping on the table, unease on her face, subtle as the grief in her hands. But Andromeda's known her since she was born, knows everything Narcissa spent years hiding. Andromeda knows, knows.
"Are you, really."
"I didn't come here to offend you."
"What else did you think would happen?"
Narcissa looks away. In the dim light of the room, Andromeda could mistake her as a specter, something unholy, sprung out of hellfire, only to look as the personification of loss in Andromeda's rickety home.
"Lucius died," says Narcissa, her voice even.
"Good riddance."
Andromeda catches a hint of fleeting glee on her sister's face, something she knew how to look for ever since they were children, something, no one else but her can really tell.
"You never did shy away from crudeness, did you, 'Dromeda?"
"What makes you think you can still call me that?" Andromeda says, quiet.
Narcissa falters, just for a second, and Andromeda wishes she could keep that memory burnt in her mind for however long she has to live, as some proof that she still remembered everything about Narcissa.
"I don't like to beg, Andromeda."
"No, you never did, did you, Cissa? I'm afraid there's nothing I can do for you-"
"Please, 'Dromeda. You're the only one I have left."
That shouldn't be enough, but Andromeda feels the knife of grief in her gut stronger every day, like bird call close to death and she forgets what it means to not be alone for a second.
"What are you asking for?"
"You- I- just you."
Andromeda shuts her eyes. "Sleep on the sofa, tonight."
___
In the morning, thunder sounds, and Andromeda hears the kettle whistle under the rumble. She supposes she should feel a jolt, something to remind her that she's not alone in the house for the first time in almost a decade. But it only feels calm, the remembrance of Narcissa in her mind and everywhere else. She couldn't forget Narcissa if she tried.
"I didn't know you knew how to make tea." Andromeda says.
Narcissa laughs, only slightly, more than she'd have allowed herself in their mother's presence. "You learn some things, when you live alone."
"Where's Draco?"
"Paris. He visits, sometimes."
"Is he well?"
"Yes."
Andromeda nods, stays in the quiet for a bit, watches Narcissa drink her tea as if they didn't lose so many years between them, as if this was just as natural as the magic in their veins.
"I wanted to say," Narcissa starts, "I really am sorry about Sirius."
That startles Andromeda, an old pain that never left. Her breath shakes. "So am I."
"I wish- I wish I had more time with him."
"You did," Andromeda says, lets the bitterness seep into her voice. "You chose to throw it away. You chose to not see him happy for those little moments that he was. Did you know Remus was his lover? I held him, right where you're standing, after Sirius died. I held him and you chose to not be here. Not when Sirius died, not when Remus died, not when Dora died. I really am in no state for the pretense, Cissa."
"I know," says Narcissa, steel in her voice, surrender in her hands. "The amount of regret I have, Dromeda, I could never hope to convey."
"Was Lucius good to you?"
Narcissa looks away for a second, then looks right at Andromeda. "No. He wasn't."
"I'm glad he's dead," says Andromeda. Outside, somewhere, a tree falls.
___
When night comes around, both of them go outside, a cigarette dangling from Andromeda's mouth. She watches the orange glow light up Cissa's face, feels something warm on the tips of her own fingers, spreading, spreading.
"I couldn't imagine you'd live somewhere like this when I found out," Narcissa says, "but you suit it."
"How did you find out?"
"I made Draco do some digging."
"Really. What did he have to say about this?"
"He wants to meet you."
Andromeda laughs. "You raised him well."
She catches Narcissa smile as she passes the cigarette, an old habit, that comes back as easily as loving her.
Andromeda's been brave her whole life, so she puts an arm around Narcissa's waist, and feels her come into it like a sea hitting the shore. When she touches Narcissa's cheek it feels as if she's coming home. It's Narcissa who kisses her, then, the cigarette falling to the floor and the thunder crawling over their house. Narcissa's mouth tastes like forgotten hope. Andromeda lets herself feel alive.
___
In the morning they wake up together, and Andromeda tries to remember all the times they'd done this before, all of it seeming like a lifetime ago.
"I always thought the war would change everything," Narcissa says. "Clearly not everything."
Andromeda laughs. "Somethings don't need changing."
"Do you still resent me, Dromeda?"
"Perhaps, a little."
Narcissa hums, rests her chin on Andromeda's shoulder. "Do you think you'd ever forgive me?"
"I don't know. But I won't let you leave again."
Narcissa lifts her head up, looks at Andromeda, then outside, where the rain still falls, and kisses her, gentle, this time, as if preserving something and Andromeda rests her hand on her chest, feels her heartbeat as if it were her own. There may not be any hope left, in the reality of things, but Andromeda lets herself float for a while, before she can't.
Author:
Characters/Pairings: Narcissa Black Malfoy, Andromeda Black Tonks; Narcissa Black Malfoy/Andromeda Black Tonks
Rating: Mature
Word Count: 1293
Content/Warning(s): mentions of canonical character death, incestuous relationship
Summary/Prompt: After everything's come to an end, a beginning arrives as if from the bottom of the earth. Prompt: As she grows older, Narcissa comes to regret cutting off ties with her only surviving sister, and decides to contact her for the first time in decades.
A/N: Title from going to scotland by the Mountain goats.
Read on AO3 or below:
Under the dark red sky, Andromeda lights her cigarette. She uses a lighter instead of her wand. The click of it reverberates through her thumb and she feels warmth like wildfire spread through her body as she takes her first drag. The trees around her house stand tall and she wonders if her dress would light on fire if she dropped her cigarette. She feels like a child again for a second, lured by fire and the destruction it brings. But, she thinks, she knows better now, even if by not a lot, even if it didn’t mean anything in the end.
She looks around, the land before her lays bare at her feet and it doesn’t feel like she’s lived here for as long as she has. Most of her life spent in this house only for it to feel empty now. On the patio, there’s a chair with Dora’s initials scrawled under it. One day, in a haze of something Andromeda doesn’t know how to name, she tried to throw it out- and then tried to spell it away but it persisted like nothing she's ever seen. If she had anything worth saving left in her she might have believed all this was because of Dora. She still clenches her hand around the chair handle, watches the smoke rise.
When she feels the ground under her shake, she doesn't think anything of it at first, she never really trusted her mind, even before the war, before she lost Dora, but now she feels as if strung on a livewire, with no end.
But, the shake doesn't seem to stop and she feels something unsettling at the bottom of her chest, something familiar spreading through her fingertips. When she sees Narcissa bloom out of the fog, she loses her breath.
"I didn't think you were actually living here," Narcissa says, calm, in the way she says everything- as if the world is waiting for her to conquer it.
"Why are you here?" Andromeda says, because, whether it means anything anymore or not, she was raised in the Black household as well. She was taught pretension before anything else.
"To see you." Narcissa says, vulnerable in a way that's new to her, something Andromeda doesn't remember seeing.
Andromeda says, "Come in."
___
"I'm sorry about Tonks." Narcissa says, her fingers tapping on the table, unease on her face, subtle as the grief in her hands. But Andromeda's known her since she was born, knows everything Narcissa spent years hiding. Andromeda knows, knows.
"Are you, really."
"I didn't come here to offend you."
"What else did you think would happen?"
Narcissa looks away. In the dim light of the room, Andromeda could mistake her as a specter, something unholy, sprung out of hellfire, only to look as the personification of loss in Andromeda's rickety home.
"Lucius died," says Narcissa, her voice even.
"Good riddance."
Andromeda catches a hint of fleeting glee on her sister's face, something she knew how to look for ever since they were children, something, no one else but her can really tell.
"You never did shy away from crudeness, did you, 'Dromeda?"
"What makes you think you can still call me that?" Andromeda says, quiet.
Narcissa falters, just for a second, and Andromeda wishes she could keep that memory burnt in her mind for however long she has to live, as some proof that she still remembered everything about Narcissa.
"I don't like to beg, Andromeda."
"No, you never did, did you, Cissa? I'm afraid there's nothing I can do for you-"
"Please, 'Dromeda. You're the only one I have left."
That shouldn't be enough, but Andromeda feels the knife of grief in her gut stronger every day, like bird call close to death and she forgets what it means to not be alone for a second.
"What are you asking for?"
"You- I- just you."
Andromeda shuts her eyes. "Sleep on the sofa, tonight."
___
In the morning, thunder sounds, and Andromeda hears the kettle whistle under the rumble. She supposes she should feel a jolt, something to remind her that she's not alone in the house for the first time in almost a decade. But it only feels calm, the remembrance of Narcissa in her mind and everywhere else. She couldn't forget Narcissa if she tried.
"I didn't know you knew how to make tea." Andromeda says.
Narcissa laughs, only slightly, more than she'd have allowed herself in their mother's presence. "You learn some things, when you live alone."
"Where's Draco?"
"Paris. He visits, sometimes."
"Is he well?"
"Yes."
Andromeda nods, stays in the quiet for a bit, watches Narcissa drink her tea as if they didn't lose so many years between them, as if this was just as natural as the magic in their veins.
"I wanted to say," Narcissa starts, "I really am sorry about Sirius."
That startles Andromeda, an old pain that never left. Her breath shakes. "So am I."
"I wish- I wish I had more time with him."
"You did," Andromeda says, lets the bitterness seep into her voice. "You chose to throw it away. You chose to not see him happy for those little moments that he was. Did you know Remus was his lover? I held him, right where you're standing, after Sirius died. I held him and you chose to not be here. Not when Sirius died, not when Remus died, not when Dora died. I really am in no state for the pretense, Cissa."
"I know," says Narcissa, steel in her voice, surrender in her hands. "The amount of regret I have, Dromeda, I could never hope to convey."
"Was Lucius good to you?"
Narcissa looks away for a second, then looks right at Andromeda. "No. He wasn't."
"I'm glad he's dead," says Andromeda. Outside, somewhere, a tree falls.
___
When night comes around, both of them go outside, a cigarette dangling from Andromeda's mouth. She watches the orange glow light up Cissa's face, feels something warm on the tips of her own fingers, spreading, spreading.
"I couldn't imagine you'd live somewhere like this when I found out," Narcissa says, "but you suit it."
"How did you find out?"
"I made Draco do some digging."
"Really. What did he have to say about this?"
"He wants to meet you."
Andromeda laughs. "You raised him well."
She catches Narcissa smile as she passes the cigarette, an old habit, that comes back as easily as loving her.
Andromeda's been brave her whole life, so she puts an arm around Narcissa's waist, and feels her come into it like a sea hitting the shore. When she touches Narcissa's cheek it feels as if she's coming home. It's Narcissa who kisses her, then, the cigarette falling to the floor and the thunder crawling over their house. Narcissa's mouth tastes like forgotten hope. Andromeda lets herself feel alive.
___
In the morning they wake up together, and Andromeda tries to remember all the times they'd done this before, all of it seeming like a lifetime ago.
"I always thought the war would change everything," Narcissa says. "Clearly not everything."
Andromeda laughs. "Somethings don't need changing."
"Do you still resent me, Dromeda?"
"Perhaps, a little."
Narcissa hums, rests her chin on Andromeda's shoulder. "Do you think you'd ever forgive me?"
"I don't know. But I won't let you leave again."
Narcissa lifts her head up, looks at Andromeda, then outside, where the rain still falls, and kisses her, gentle, this time, as if preserving something and Andromeda rests her hand on her chest, feels her heartbeat as if it were her own. There may not be any hope left, in the reality of things, but Andromeda lets herself float for a while, before she can't.