Leda

(Note: The tattoo that appears in this chapter is the original creation of the exquisite writer and artist luciusfan who was gracious and angelic enough to give me permission to nick it for my own fic. Thank you, Darling. I’m sure you’ll go to heaven.)

Leda - Chapter 4: Duties and Arrangements


Master Malfoy had told Leda that she was to do whatever he told her to do. So she wasn’t totally unprepared when she received her first order.

“Turn the bed down, Leda.”

Without a word, Leda turned to obey. She grasped the black silk of the bed and felt her hands sink deeper into it than she would have imagined. Whatever type of fabric it was, it seemed more like warm air than cloth. She had never felt anything so luxurious in her life, and she fought valiantly against the nearly overwhelming desire to throw herself into the covers and roll around in the bed. But her sensual reverie was interrupted by the unmistakable sensation of Malfoy’s eyes on her as she folded back the covers. The bed was so wide she had to crawl on her hands and knees across it to reach the other side, and she was sorely tempted to ask Malfoy if he was enjoying the view.

“Tomorrow, Leda, we will dispose of those appalling Muggle clothes of yours.”

Okay, so he wasn’t checking her out.

“Speaking of clothes,” she replied breezily, ignoring his rude appraisal of her outfit, “I don’t have anything to sleep in. Oh my god. . .”

Leda slipped off the bed and turned to face Malfoy again. She found him standing completely naked in front of her.

“If you feel you must sleep in something,” he said taking a step toward her and holding his shirt out to her, “you may wear this.”

Leda barely heard the words as she reached out automatically to take the shirt from his hand.

So that’s what he looks like under his clothes, she thought. He looks absolutely . . .she searched her mind for a word but came up with nothing. There wasn’t an adjective in the English language that described him. Cloaked in layers of black, she never imagined that he would be so well defined, so well- . . .she still couldn’t find the word. Her eyes could only drink in his pale but perfect flesh, the long lines of his body. No words at all. None. All she knew was that looking at him--she ached.

He brushed past her as he walked toward the bed. Leda was astonished to see that Malfoy had a tattoo on his lower back at the very base of his spine. She was first astonished that someone so refined and proper would engage in such counter-culture behavior. Then she was astonished that she was even capable of noticing he had a tattoo. It certainly was not the only eye-catching feature of his backside. Leda blinked and forced herself to focus. The tattoo was in the shape of two twisting, intertwined snakes--all black of course--and appeared to be vaguely Celtic. It was beautiful work. She had never seen anything quite like it. In that respect, it completely suited its bearer.

“Well,” Malfoy said as he drew the covers over his body, turning to face Leda with his head propped on his elbow, “I now know what I have to do when I desire silence from you.”

Leda, realizing her mouth was slightly ajar, closed it quickly and tried to think up a suitable retort.

“Hey, it isn’t my fault you have the best ass in England.” Not exactly the biting rejoinder she was hoping for, but Leda was nothing if not candid.

If Malfoy was pleased by the comment, he didn’t show it. He merely turned away from her onto his stomach, sighing, “And tomorrow, we will dispense with that appalling Muggle cant as well.”

Leda allowed herself to revise her opinion of Malfoy--gorgeous, refined, noble, gorgeous, elegant, gorgeous, and utterly utterly pompous. Strangely enough, this did not diminish her attraction to him.

It’s the tattoo, she decided. Whatever, Leda.

Leda rolled her eyes at his hauteur and sat on the edge of her own smaller bed. She still hadn’t quite recovered from the sight of Malfoy’s body. Leda glanced behind her to see if he was looking at her. When she saw his eyes were closed--oh god, he was beautiful--she turned around and pulled off her camisole. She slipped her arms into Malfoy’s shirt and nearly groaned aloud in bliss as the feather-light fabric skimmed her skin. And, she realized with pleasure as she buttoned the shirt, it even smelled like him.

She threw her camisole on the floor and watched in amazement as it disappeared before touching the ground just like Malfoy’s cape, and presumably all of his other clothes, had disappeared. Leda took off her boots and was at least pleased to see that they didn’t disappear as well. Malfoy had said they would be getting rid of her “Muggle” clothes but she’d be damned if he was going to take her boots too. Leda untied her sweater from around her waist and lifted up to pull her skirt off, shivering as the fabric of Malfoy’s shirt tickled her skin ever so slightly, before laying down in her own small bed. She was only mildly surprised when the candles blew themselves out as soon as her head hit the pillow.

No wonder he sleeps naked, she thought as she wriggled around in her sheets. Her ecstasy, however, turned rapidly to fear as she felt something snake out from the edge of her bed and grasp her wrist. Another something reached out and grasped her opposite ankle. She gasped and thrashed against the bonds but they only grew tighter.

“Stop fighting them, Leda,” she heard Malfoy’s patronizing voice order her. “The bonds will loosen as soon as you calm down.”

Leda forced herself to relax by taking in huge gulps of air until her breathing slowed slightly. He was right. The bonds did indeed slacken. She was still tied by one wrist and one ankle but now she could at least move around again.

“Why am I tied to the bed?” she demanded, masking her panic with fury. This wasn’t funny anymore.

“It is only for your own protection, Leda.”

“My protection?” How was tying her down supposed to protect her?

“The manor holds several . . .hazards, Leda. I can’t have you wandering around at night.”

You can’t have me escaping in the night, she thought. Her own protection? Bullshit.

“Just be glad I am tied up --” she began.

“Good night, Leda,” Malfoy interrupted imperiously, dismissing any further protest on her part.

She didn’t reply at all. She merely fumed into the dark trying to use her anger to keep her fear at bay.

She was in a strange home tied to a bed at the feet of a man who was more beautiful and more dangerous than any man she had ever met in her life. And she was supposedly his slave now.

What the hell have I done? she thought miserably.

These bleak thoughts kept tumbling in her mind until exhaustion overpowered her and dragged her down into sleep. Please be a dream, she pleaded again and again in her head to whomever was out there listening. Please be a dream . . .

Morning descended onto Leda hard and fast. She knew it wasn’t a dream. And she was right.

~ ~ ~
Morning hit Leda with both the full force of what she had gotten herself into and the full force of a mass of silver fur dropping onto her face.

“Oh, get off me, Sisyphus!” Leda used her free hand to swipe at the purring cat who stubbornly persisted in his post as her living alarm clock.

Leda instinctively reached out with her other hand to pick Sisyphus up and discovered she was now free of her bonds. Sisyphus leapt from her arms as she sat up and began pacing and mewing energetically in front of the door leading to Malfoy’s office.

“Blondie a little impatient this morning, Lassie?” she asked Sisyphus as she combed her fingers through her hair. She started looking around for her clothes but stopped when she remembered that they had disappeared to who-knows-where last night.

Well, she thought, it isn’t like Mr. Wizard there is a stickler for modesty.

After one unnecessary and rebellious stretch, Leda stumbled into Malfoy’s office wearing only his shirt and her day old underwear. She hoped that she looked sexy and tousled, but the one tiny part of Leda that ever had any grasp on reality knew she only looked bedraggled.

Malfoy, of course, was looking utterly flawless resplendent as he was in black and crimson. Although Leda was having a difficult time looking at him without recalling the magnificent body she knew was hidden under his exquisite attire. His hair, Leda noticed forcing herself back into the present, was tied back at the nape of his neck with a graceful black ribbon, just like the one that had tied her scroll. She had briefly wondered before she entered the office whether sunlight would diminish Malfoy’s dark and decadent allure. Nope, she thought. Not a bit. He sat, basking and beautiful, at a small, round, equally well-dressed table next to one of the large lancet windows and had evidently just finished breakfast. His feet were propped on the windowsill, his long black-booted legs crossed at the ankles, as he lounged with deceptive carelessness. Leda studied him as he sipped elegantly at his coffee while reading what appeared to be a newspaper; a newspaper, Leda remarked, that had moving photographs.

“Leda.” Malfoy acknowledged her with barely a nod of his head as his eyes stayed trained on his reading.

“Master Malfoy,” Leda intoned as she took the ends of the shirt in her fingers and gave a quick, graceless curtsey. She giggled at herself when she nearly fell over her own feet and collapsed into the chair opposite Malfoy.

“Have a seat, Leda,” Malfoy instructed after Leda had already sat. Hearing the disapproval in his voice, she stood up quickly and sat down again in the chair.

“Thank you, Sir. I shall,” she replied solemnly.

“I trust you slept well last night.”

“Oh yes. I slept as well as any slave tied to a bed in the house of a wizard could ever hope or dream. And you?”

Malfoy ignored both her question and her sarcasm. He shook his newspaper closed as he took his legs off the windowsill and turned to face her.

“Your duties,” he began without further introduction, “will include but are not limited to assisting the household staff with whatever they require of you during those times that you are not assisting me in my work.”

“You work?” she asked, slightly stunned as she reached out for a handful of strawberries. She had supposed him a man of both wealth and leisure.

“Yes Leda, I do. And do help yourself.”

“Thank you,” she replied taking an impudent bite of her strawberry. She flinched suddenly when she felt something graze her ankle but saw it was only Sisyphus sitting at her feet. Leda popped another strawberry in her mouth and tapped her thigh. Sisyphus readily hopped into her lap and sat softly purring in her arms.

“Hello, Hissyfits,” she said nuzzling her nose into the cat’s warm neck. “Please do not ever jump on my face again when I am unconscious, thank you very much. I think your cursed cat likes me, Mr. Malfoy.”

“He’s never been a very good judge of character.”

“He can‘t stand you, can he?”

“Hardly surprising. I am the one who cursed him. But since he is so captivated by you, Leda, and since I‘m required at the Ministry today, I’ll allow him to give you the tour of the manor. If you complete your work in time, of course.”

“Sisyphus give me a tour? You do realize that he’s a cat, right?”

Before Malfoy could reply, the office door opened and Leda turned to see a middle-aged woman wearing severe brown robes with an equally severe scowl enter the room.

“You needed me, Master Malfoy?” the woman asked flashing cold, censorious eyes at Leda.

Clearly this woman strongly disapproved of Leda’s existence, especially at the table of her master. Leda responded by throwing her bare legs over the arm of the chair and giving her a beaming smile as she lifted Sisyphus’s paw in a little cat wave.

“Yes, Hestia. I’m leaving Leda in your charge today. Provide her with anything she needs. Answer any of her questions.”

“Of course, Sir. With pleasure,” Hestia replied immediately although Leda had the sinking feeling that this woman only wanted to provide her with a boot in her ass.

Despite how much Malfoy intimidated her, whether she would show it or not, Leda found herself desperately wanting to spend the day with him instead of this frigid bitch. No, frigid witch, Leda corrected herself. But as Malfoy stood and clasped his cape around his shoulders before taking up his cane, it appeared to Leda that she had little choice in the matter.

“I will see you this evening, Leda,” Malfoy intoned with exasperation as he strode toward the door. “And do attempt to comport yourself with some semblance of discretion today.”

“Yes, Sir,” Leda replied with a jaunty salute.

“And Hestia?”

“Yes, Sir?” Hestia said with absolute seriousness.

Malfoy turned and cast his eyes meaningfully at Leda. “I expect to find Leda properly attired when I return this evening.”

“Yes, Sir.”

“And unharmed.”

“Yes, Sir.” Leda shuddered at the note of disappointment in Hestia’s voice. That tiny part of reality spoke again telling Leda that it was only Malfoy’s authority that was keeping her safe from the other servants. She couldn’t begin to imagine why everyone seemed to detest her so much. It must be because I’m American, she thought. Upper-class Brits think all Americans are raised by wolves. Or is that the French? Maybe it’s my freckles, she wondered. Freckles can be quite divisive. Leda shook herself from her nonsensical musings and managed a genuine smile at Malfoy before he vanished through the door.

Leda was now left all alone with a bitchy witch and a cursed cat in a wizard’s manor with only one burning question. . .

“Hestia?” she asked, coming to her bare feet. “Where’s the bathroom?”
~ ~ ~
Hestia had grudgingly supplied Leda with a change of clothes and access to the servant’s quarters down the hall from Malfoy’s suites. Leda took much longer than usual getting ready as this was her first foray into the world of magical bathrooms. She was having just enough fun to momentarily forget that she was in a rather ghastly situation. Despite her loitering, it was within the hour that Leda was unhappily ensconced beside the scowling form of Hestia as they rode in another curiously horse-less carriage back to the train station that Leda had arrived at the previous day. During the trip, Leda refused to let Hestia retreat into her bitter and indignant silence as she pestered her forbidding companion with question after question. She quickly learned about the uncomfortable boundary between the Muggle and the Wizarding worlds, the political situation in the Wizarding world, as well as the art and science of magic. But one topic did not come up. And that was Master Malfoy. Leda knew that Hestia would likely answer whatever question she asked just as Malfoy had ordered her to. But Leda felt strangely reticent about her enigmatic master despite the face that she knew absolutely nothing about him. Well, other than the fact he was a natural blonde, Leda corrected herself as she tried to suppress a smile. Whatever else there was to know about him, and Leda felt certain that the subject of Lucius Malfoy was nearly inexhaustible, she wanted to learn from him alone.

The two mismatched women disembarked from the train and traveled on foot to a place, Leda observed from the ornate street sign, called Diagon Alley. It was an explosion of strange and amazing sights. As they wove their way down the winding street, Leda stared, wide-eyed and spellbound, at all the colorfully attired witches and wizards, the eccentrically named shops selling things she never even knew existed. Her amazement seemed to only increase Hestia’s impatience who promptly told her to close her mouth and hurry up.

“But I think I just saw David Bowie,” Leda exclaimed, pivoting on her foot to look back down the street as Hestia pulled her brusquely into another shop.

Leda decided quickly that she and Hestia had radically different ideas about appropriate attire. Her dour companion apparently wanted Leda wearing something akin to a prison uniform while Leda was enamored of a line of scandalously short robes that resembled wizarding versions of school-girl uniforms. Luckily, Hestia and a shop-girl got into a nasty row and Leda was able to subtly exchange Hestia’s choices for her own. As they were leaving, Leda turned apologetic eyes to the frazzled shop-girl and whispered by way of explanation for Hestia‘s temper, “Menopause.”

The return trip was quiet as Leda had run out of questions to ask and Hestia had clearly run out of the patience to answer them. Leda contemplated taking a nap when they returned to the manor, but her self-indulgent delusions were quickly shattered when Hestia put her to work. Leda was now well aware that most of what Hestia ordered her to do--mostly grunt kitchen work--could have been easily accomplished with a simple spell. Hestia just wanted to make Leda as miserable as possible without actually harming her.

At least she had Sisyphus to keep her company. The little cat had apparently fallen in love with Leda and stayed devotedly with her while she completed her onerous chores. Leda wondered about the strange cat as she scrubbed at the stone floors of the kitchens. Sisyphus was treated by Malfoy and the other servants as more of a person than even she was.

Leda had just finished the second chorus of “Go Down, Moses,” when she looked up from her position on the floor and saw Hestia march in with a small, imperious gray owl on her shoulder and a letter in her hands.

“It appears,” Hestia began, her voice brimming with contempt, “that the Master desires for you to attend him tonight at the governors’ meeting.”

“And that means . . .?” Leda asked resting back on her legs as she wiped sweaty hair out of her eyes.

“It means you are dismissed.” Hestia sounded quite thwarted. Apparently she was rather enjoying exploiting Leda. “The governors will be here in an hour so you’ll need to look presentable.”

“What does he mean by ‘attend him’?” Leda came to her feet groaning at the fierce ache in her knees.

Hestia ignored her and merely addressed the inscrutable cat. “Sisyphus, take her up, please. And see that she doesn’t get lost.”

“After you, Hissyfits,” Leda sighed tiredly as she followed the cat through the labyrinthine manor to Malfoy’s suites. Despite her exhaustion, she was quite excited about wearing one of her new, un-Muggle outfits. Sisyphus escorted her back to the servant’s quarters and even perched himself on the side of the bathtub as Leda soaked the fatigue from her muscles.

“So, under a curse, huh?” she asked the cat. “That must suck for you.” Everyone else talked to the cat. Why shouldn’t she? “Sorry you and Mr. Wizard don’t get along. Don’t hate me but I’m quite fond of him myself. Well, ‘fond’ might not be the right word. I have the incredibly strong desire to shag his brains out. Does that qualify as fondness?”

She continued her inane prattle to Sisyphus as she dressed and arranged her hair in what she hoped was a classy looking twist.

Sisyphus led her back to down the echoing hallway to Malfoy’s offices. Leda smiled as she saw that Malfoy had returned. He stood behind his desk pouring over another book, his perfect hands skimming the ancient pages once again.

“Well, what do you think?” Leda asked as she gave a girlish twirl in front of him. “Too sassy? Or just sassy enough?”

“It is a minor improvement,” he replied with a hardly an upward glance.

“Oh stop, you sweet talker you,” Leda teased as she walked over to stand next to him hoping to peer into whatever he was reading so intently. But before she could see anything, he slammed to the book shut and returned it to the shelves, locking it behind a glass door. Leda noticed that the black ribbon holding Malfoy’s hair back had come partially untied. She reached up and neatly retied the bow smiling when she sensed Malfoy pause and tense as she pressed close to him. He turned and caught her eyes, staring so deeply into her she felt her knees nearly buckle. As she was lowering her arms, he took her hand in his and brought the inside of her wrist to his lips. He kissed her pulsing skin without taking his eyes from hers. Leda would have thrown herself on him right then but for the sudden interruption of a rumbling bell. Apparently, the other governors had begun to arrive.

Malfoy was all business again, taking his cane in hand and striding from the office with Leda in tow. She found herself nearly running to keep up with his long strides.

“So what am I supposed to do at this meeting? And what kind of meeting is it?” she asked, slightly breathless.

“It is a school board meeting, Leda. And you are to attend. . .in silence, preferably,” Malfoy answered with a tone that indicated silence was a requirement on pain of death rather than a preference.

Leda discovered as she surveyed the odd assortment of chattering wizards assembled in the vast and darkly elegant drawing room what Malfoy meant by “attend.” As he seated himself in a luxurious armchair, he subtly indicated to Leda that she was to sit--where else?--at his feet. She sunk down to a plush cushion and tried to ignore the eyes of the other wizards who were casting quizzical stares in her direction. Some of the others had servants in attendance as well but Leda noted that, unlike her, they sat in chairs behind their employers. But Malfoy seemed entirely indifferent to their curious gazes. Leda surmised that Malfoy was quite used to being the object of attention. Even among the other wizards he stood out, but not because of his unusual attire. Indeed, compared to the other wizards, he looked almost conservative. Yet, Malfoy had a fierce presence, an arresting intensity that radiated even as he listened passively to the other governors ramble on.

Leda forced her mind back to the moment at hand and tried to follow the various stains of conversation. There were some mind-numbingly dull decisions about this school, Hogwarts or some such place, that apparently required several decades of discussion. Leda’s boredom was considerable and was alleviated only when Malfoy would tap her lightly on the shoulder and flash his eyes in one direction or another. This was his silent signal for her to pour someone’s tea or fetch a scroll of parchment before coming to sit again at his feet.

After an hour or two, the others seemed to forget her presence and even Malfoy stopped giving her his wordless commands. Sisyphus appeared again and Leda lazily stroked the cat as she tried to stay awake. The night wore on interminably, hour after tiresome hour, and Leda took her cue from Sisyphus, now dozing in her lap, and leaned against Malfoy’s legs resting her head on his muscular thigh. She was asleep within minutes, lulled into oblivion by the hypnotic caress of Malfoy’s fingertips on the side of her neck.

Leda had no idea when the meeting finally ended. She was only vaguely aware of strong arms lifting her up before a cool wind rushed over her. Part of her realized that she was back in Malfoy’s room again, possibly on his bed, and that it was deepest night. But she didn’t come fully awake until she felt two hands slip under her robes, gently pulling her underwear down her thighs.