The Fearsome Name of Riddle

Bethrothed

"Mother!" Lucius bellowed as he stormed into the North Wing sitting room of Malfoy Manor. "Mother, did you know about this?" 

Before Victoria could even turn her head to find her eldest son, a heavy parchment letter was thrown into her lap with force. Perhaps she had spoiled him too much, allowed him too much leniency with his manners. An irritated frown lifted to the Malfoy heir and he barely noticed it in his frustration. Victoria picked up the letter and read over the words written in the neat handwriting of Narcissa Black. The perfect curve of the letters made her wish her boys had been more patient with their tutoring. 

The girl seemed quite distressed despite the neatness of her hand. Victoria might have expected more of a tremble to the lettering but the ink never wavered. At seventeen, Narcissa had grown much more mature than most around her. She understood the politics of aristocracy and fit into her role seamlessly, as long as her puppeteering paid off. This time, her bright future had been taken out of her hands. 

"Oh," Victoria said simply as she reached the end of the letter, which evidently was not the reaction Lucius had been hoping for. 

"Oh? What do you mean ‘oh’?" He flailed his arms around as he continued to gesture towards the letter that they had both read. "They're making her marry that joke of a Black. My Narcissa! You have to speak to them. Walburga, Cygnus, any of them. Narcissa can't marry Sirius, you can't let it happen." 

"Lucius, take a deep breath," Victoria said calmly, tapping her fingers on the armchair beside her. "You're flailing like a child, it's unbecoming." 

The eldest Malfoy boy huffed and sank into the seat he had been offered. He sulked as his mother folded the letter neatly and placed it back into the envelope. 

"You are of age, you are my heir," Victoria told him, a sort of dry focus to her voice made Lucius feel defensive. "Narcissa is, as you say, yours and you love her as dearly as she loves you. Tell me, my angel boy, have you tried speaking with Cygnus Black about your wish to marry his daughter?" 

Lucius made a pinched sort of expression. His knees came together at the edge of his seat and he tucked his hands into his lap. It made him look smaller, especially sitting down. His height was the only thing that made him look grown up. Youthful features captured his face still and in the eyes of his mother Lucius would always remain her baby. 

"But can't you do it?" He mumbled, wringing his hands together. "You're basically his Lady, his Lord's wife, you could just order him to let her marry me. It's what we both want." 

"And then what kind of man would you be?" Victoria asked, giving a neutral look as Lucius fidgeted in his seat. 

"You do everything for Octavian, this isn't fair," Lucius complained, slumping back against the cushions. His arms crossed over his chest, even at eighteen he still pouted like a child. "When I take the mark and try to be responsible as your heir, I'm just a boy, but when I actually need your help suddenly I'm a man grown." 

"Lucius," Victoria sighed, placing the letter on the table beside her. 

"No," Lucius snapped, sitting up again. After eleven years of watching her favour his brother for whatever excuse came to her mind, he'd had enough. "You've been like this for years. Octavian gets whatever he wants because he's your favourite and you question everything I do. I'm just not good enough for you anymore. Is it just because I'm older or am I that disappointing to you?" 

"Lucius." Victoria's voice softened as she moved closer to him, clasping his hands in hers. "That is not true. I love you, Lucius, I swear it." 

Without a proper answer, Lucius turned his head away from his mother.