vratsababe

They ate in the formal dining room of the large manor. The table was of the finest antique wood money could buy and was polished so the chandelier reflected across it as if there were two chandeliers in the cavernous room. The thousands of crystals on the gargantuan lighting fixture glimmered and glistened against their holdings of darkening silver, passing the light from the many candles across the room and lighting every corner. The walls were of light colored wood that contrasted brilliantly with the silver-veined black marble flooring.  The French windows across the eastern wall were thrown open, pulling in the summer breeze and ruffling the edges of the heavy velvet curtains that had been pulled back for the evening.

The table was set with heavy silver goblets and delicate white and green china. Green dragons were painted delicately onto the plates and silver serpents wound themselves around the flatware. Their plates were laden with veal and the most exquisite, most succulent foods one could imagine. A bottle of elf made wine dating back to a year before their time lay open between them, still about half way filled with crimson liquid.

Lucius was wearing robes of deep green velvet trimmed with silver. His sleeves were pushed up around his elbows, revealing the white shirt he wore underneath. A silver and emerald snake fastened the top of his robes together, lying showy beneath his pointed chin. He was leaning with his elbows on the table (quite opposite his polished manners) listening to the voice of his beloved. His cool gray eyes remained fixated on hers of shining cobalt as she talked. His silvery blonde hair was pushed behind his ears, tendrils escaping and falling across his angular cheekbones and along his pointed nose. He smelled of expensive imported cologne, a spicy mix of cedar and sophistication. One of his large hands, glinting with gold and opal rings, clasped her much smaller hand across the table.

Narcissa smiled as she talked, her deep blue eyes glinting with the light of the chandelier. Her lips were rosy and full, matching beautifully with the rouge dusted across her fair cheeks. Her golden blonde hair was lying on her shoulders, curled softly for the evening. A silver butterfly held back half of her hair, its wings encrusted with aquamarine and diamonds, a present he had given her for her birthday. Her robes matched the clip, a dazzling, deep aquamarine with a silver sash around her tiny middle. Her shoes that kissed his of Italian leather beneath the table were silver and tied up her leg in an elegant bow. Her voice, cool and legato, carried her words on the summer breeze, tantalizing her beloved with every syllable. She sat as she had been taught in her youth; with dignity and with poise.

The two of them had neglected the rest of what lay on their dinner plates just talking. Their eyes remained focused on the eyes of the other, never drifting except to take a sip of the fruited wine. The hands on the ancient grandfather clock in the corner chimed off yet another hour. The sun had fallen, now giving way to the starlight pushing its way onto the balcony outside the dining hall.