Lucius And The Newcomer

Two: Frustration


Disclaimers: See Heading of Chapter One

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He had never in his life had to work so hard to gather so little information. It frustrated the hell out of him. He was not used to lifting a finger to have a liaison - women fell at his feet and begged for it. So why was he bothering with this woman? Noble Lord Malfoy truly wished he could answer that question.

At first he was positive she was a witch. Then he thought she must be a muggle, since no one in the wizarding world knew of her. Yet there was some aura of magic around her. Just being in her presence was entrancing, which just frustrated him further. Lucius had spent his entire life in the company of very powerful witches and few had this effect on him.

He let out a exasperated sigh as he leaned against the building housing the small bookstore. It was as if he were playing Quidditch on the ground and this woman, Catherine, was the Snitch. She was as elusive as one. Every place he had checked all week, she had either just left or was expected in a few days.

It had taken him a week to find out that she was staying at Loretta’s inn, kept to herself, spoke to hardly anyone save Madam Rosemerta and the innkeepers, frequented the small used bookstore he now stood behind and had no discernible schedule that he could find. There did seem to be quite a few trips she took to the next town south of Hogsmeade. If he could just find out where she went there.

While contemplating his next move, the object of his thoughts walked out of the back of the Three Broomsticks. Who knew all he had to do was wait behind the buildings on the main thoroughfare in order to catch his prey? And that is what she was now - prey to his predator. Lucius had all but stalked this woman for the last week - he was obsessed with her.

He studied her as she sauntered down the dirt path that led through a small clearing and ultimately to the inn. Before he could reign in the impulse, Lucius quietly approached her from behind and grabbed her. Catherine did not even have time to draw in a breath to scream before she found herself standing in a dank, dusty structure - still held in the arms of an unknown assailant.

It took several seconds for her brain to catch up to what was going on. As she took a few calming, slow breaths to gather her wits, the attacker spoke.

“Fair lady, I apologize for the impetuous action I have taken. After thinking of nothing but you for a week, all rational thought was abandoned upon seeing you again.” Lucius had kept his voice soothing and low, hoping to keep his captive tranquil. His tight grip relaxed slightly as he spoke to her.

Catherine relaxed slightly against the hard body of her kidnapper. Her mind raced trying to recognize the voice and think on who she had encountered a week ago. He still had one arm wrapped around her waist, but the other one was now brushing her hair gently away from her neck.

Now that he had her alone, Lucius wanted to savor his good fortune at finding her. His actions were unhurried, as if they had all the time in the world. A little slap and tickle, minus the slap considering his grip on her, plus a little gleaning of information - he was nearly giddy at the thought of combining the two.

“Tell me, fair lady, what is your family name?” His lips grazed the arch of her neck.

Her reaction was mixed. First, she leaned into him. After realizing what she’d done, her body tensed. “First tell me the rules of the game,” Catherine demanded quietly.

“For every truthful answer, a reward.” Lucius lightly caressed her shoulder. “A punishment for each falsehood.” His hand slid down her chest and he roughly squeezed her breast, eliciting a short gasp of pain. “The choice is yours.”

“Bentley.”

The answer was quick and took him by surprise. “Pardon?”

“My last name - Bentley.”

“Your reward,” he whispered in her ear, as his fingers gently fondled the outer swell of her breast. His guerdon was her soft moan.

“Am I allowed to ask questions?” She sounded calm.

“You may ask, although I may not answer. I trust you are intelligent enough to not ask obvious questions,” his tone was lightly teasing.

“How can you tell if I am being truthful?”

“Interesting. No forays into guessing who I am, but firstly concerned if you can deceive. Rest assured that I will be able to tell immediately when false words leave your lips. Now, another query. Are you a witch?”

“Not in the way you mean,” Catherine said quietly.

Lucius studied her and the glow around her was green. But this made no sense to him; how could she be a witch, yet not be one? “Explain.”

“Where I come from, they call me a witch because of my method of worship of a deity. As to whether I have magical abilities? Not that I am aware of,” she hedged. If her work had taught her anything, it was to avoid all-encompassing statements.

Again, the glow was green. With such a vague answer, it should have shimmered or sputtered or at least lessened in strength. His composure slowly crumbling, Lucius finally gave into a small fit of temper. One flick of his wand and she was blindfolded. Another found her shackled to the back of the fireplace.

Of course she would have no clue as to his intentions, so in his own way Lucius tried to reassure her no harm was meant. He walked up to her slowly, making sure his boots hit heavily on the floorboards. He placed a hand on her shoulder and leaned his face next to hers. “Your spectacles are safely encased in a metal container in your satchel, which is on the floor to your right,” his tone was even and reassuring.

She only nodded in response. It had to be the oddest thing any captor had ever said to her. Then again, this was her first (and hopefully last) abduction in the world of wizards - so maybe it was how things were done. Her thoughts were interrupted by the feel of his hands snaking under her blouse at her waist.

“Do you have any family here?” The questions started again.

“None that I can find. My ancestors are all dead.” Catherine held her breath, hoping he would not catch her fudging of the facts.

The slight ripple would have been missed, had he blinked at that moment. Maybe if he diverted her attention. His hands skimmed around her waist to her back as he stepped closer and pressed his body up against hers. “Shall we try that again, fair lady? As most ancestors refer to those more remote than grandparents, I would imagine they are all passed on.”

She felt the heat from his body up against hers. And the evidence of his arousal. Lord, why did it have to feel so good and under such circumstances? “I have, um, no living family here,” she finally said.

“And?” Lucius started stroking her lower back.

“I was adopted, so I don’t know if I have any family at all - anywhere.”

He was surprised when the first tears ran down her face. Normally such feminine tricks had no effect on him, but they were not a reaction to curses or physical pain he caused intentionally. He had only wanted to know more about the woman.

All of a sudden the glow around her turned a brilliant turquoise, then flickered out completely. “Witch! What have you done?” Lucius spat out.

There was no glow of any color showing now. He realized she must be very powerful to be able to trick and then cancel his spell. Thinking she was trying to escape, he pressed against her harder and grasped her wrists, holding them against the wall.

Catherine had no idea what this man was on about. She had done nothing but wish that the ‘game’ would end, so that she could retreat to the inn and collapse on her bed there for a good, long cry. At first it had been mildly titillating to have this mystery man teasing her, but now it was just another irritation to add to a very frustrating day.

“I have done nothing but stand here and answer your questions,” she spat back. “And just a word of advise; this is not the way to approach or impress a female you have designs on.”

“What makes you think I am attracted to the likes of you?” Now conscious of his body pressed tightly against hers, he took a step back.

“Unless the sight of any female chained up is your preference, or you are wearing a codpiece, I felt the evidence.” She decided not to say anything else. It was probably best if she just acted meek, stayed quiet and with any luck the man would calm down and let her go.

Lucius chuckled. “Codpiece? My attire consists of nothing that archaic. Now, witch, tell me how you did it.”

“What? I am no longer ’fair lady’?” Catherine could not stop herself. It was all so ridiculous - the situation, the language he used and her arousal. “How I did what?”

Placing his wand on the skin of her wrist, he quietly said the spell again. “You cancelled my spell. How did you do it?” he whispered in her ear.

“What spell? I told you already - I didn’t do anything,” her tone was one of exasperation.

He watched as the wand and the skin it touched both glowed green. Something had happened, but the spell must have been bad. It was not one he often used. Before he could think too deeply about it, she pressed against him and wriggled her hips.

“Temptress,” he hissed in her ear, “do not provoke me. You know not whom you trifle with.”

“I don’t care. Either do something or let me go.”

Frustration is defined as a feeling of dissatisfaction resulting from unfulfilled needs, or as the feeling that accompanies an experience of being thwarted in attaining your goals. The former is what Catherine felt at the moment. Lucius was feeling both types and decided to do something about at least one.

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Definition courtesy of websters.com