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hexiewrites · 7 years

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we will never be satisfied

pairing: narcissa black / lily evans setting: georgian era / ~1790s. a winter’s ball. word count: 1837 written for: the femslash february trope bingo and my free space, which I have decided is a “regency era” au, except it’s more like georgian era (#historymajorproblems) so I dunno anymore whatever. It’s also a hamilton au - is that a thing yet? and hp femslash february in general! a/n: yes okay things I am aware of: I shamelessly ripped a bunch of dialogue and other things from Lin-Manuel Miranda’s Hamilton’s “Satisfied” (preemptive warning, this ends just about how you expect it’s going to). I split both Eliza and Hamilton into two people, basically. (a formal apology to Peggy, who unfortunately here is portrayed by Bellatrix Lestrange neé Black). I also completely and utterly without shame stole, butchered, and modernized the brilliant Mary Wollstonecraft’s work (and, a bit of herself as well) A Vindication on the Rights of Men and its sequel A Vindication on the Rights of Women. I fucked with timeline and historical accuracy, and more importantly I made some characters pretty damn gay. welcome to hell, babes. as always, a big thanks to my beta/inspiration @nymphadoraholtzmann! this was her idea and she has been very patiently waiting for me to write it for like… probably at least a month so. you can also see the beautiful graphic she made for this concept right here!

(my bingo card) (my other writing)

Narcissa Black was bored. It didn't usually happen, especially not at such a lovely ball. Soldier's red coats brightened the ballroom and their brass buttons glimmered in the flickering candlelight. Narcissa brushed a hand down over the green and silver brocade of her dress and sighed, rather despondently. Her eyes flickered the room and spotted her oldest sister Bella dancing with her husband, Rodolphus, and her middle sister Andromeda giggling next to a soldier.

Once again, she was reminder of her father's stern words, before the ball. There would be no grinning soldiers or pretty peasants in her future, no following her heart or joining the swiftly growing revolution. No matter that she was educated, intelligent, and ambitious. There would only be a marriage to a wealthy man, a continuation of his family line, and the reminder - again and again and again - that she was supposed to be a boy and since she hadn't managed that, the least she could do was uphold her family’s honour by marrying a Lord.

Scanning her eyes across the room again, she couldn't help but notice a redhead woman who happened to be walking in her direction. The woman's dark auburn hair probably should have clashed with her red dress, but instead the two seemed to compliment each other, offsetting the woman's pale creamy skin. Narcissa forced herself to look away, glancing back at the ball.

"You strike me as a woman who’s never been satisfied," said a voice from her left. It was musical and magical and Narcissa had to swallow at the way it sent tingles down her spine. She turned and there was the redhead, more beautiful up close with large intelligent green eyes that Narcissa knew would be burned into her brain forever. Narcissa had never seen anything like them and it took her a moment to remember herself, her place.

"I'm sure I don't know what you mean," she managed, in her best aristocrat voice. "You forget yourself."

The woman smirked, stepped closer. She radiated a confidence that was striking and terrifying, bold and courageous and something about it burned so brightly it nearly hurt.

"You're like me," the woman continued, lifting a hand to brush a strand of long red hair away from her face.

"Oh?" Narcissa asked, lost in green eyes and soft words and some underlying promise of more.

"I've never been satisfied." The woman continued, a grin tugging at her lips.

Narcissa couldn't help herself. She tipped her head back and laughed, her own lips quirking up in a matching smile, before she leaned in a little closer. "Is that right?"

The beautiful green eyes darkened just a bit, and the grin tugging at the woman’s pink lips shifted into something that should have been terrifying. “I will never be satisfied.” Something about the way she said it, the way her voice dipped lower and that look in her eyes tugged at something low in Narcissa’s abdomen and she shifted her legs slightly and fought the urge to bite her lips.

Deciding she couldn’t go another minute without learning the woman’s name, she extended her hand. “My name is Narcissa Black.”

A pale hand extended and caught hers, and Narcissa noticed almost immediately that the woman’s skin wasn’t quite as soft as hers. The woman lifted Narcissa’s hand and brushed her lips over the skin carefully, then looked up and smiled again. “Lily Evans.” She introduced herself, and Narcissa ran back through her mind of the hundreds of other wealthy families she knew. Clearly not Royalty, or nobility – Narcissa had had the family tree of every other family deemed acceptable burned into her brain since she was old enough to listen.

“Where’s your family from?” She asked, almost disappointed when Lily dropped her hand. The woman paused at the question, flicked her eyes to the side, and something in Narcissa’s stomach crashed.

“Unimportant,” Lily hedged, waving a hand as if dismissing it quickly. “There’s a million things I haven’t done.”

Narcissa swallowed, closed her eyes quickly. When she reopened them, Lily was still standing there, looking at her, tracing her eyes over Narcissa’s face and lips and Narcissa knew she had to drop this, to turn and run right now before she got stuck but she couldn’t seem to.

Instead, she kept her eyes on Lily, tried to determine why the woman was there. “Are you one of the soldier’s wives?” She asked, tipping her nose up in slight disdain, unable to help herself.

It was Lily’s turn to laugh, and Narcissa couldn’t help that her eyes were drawn down to watch as the woman’s chest bubbled up and nearly spilled over her corset as she did so. Narcissa’s mouth went dry and she swallowed, and forced herself to look up.

“Goodness no.” Lily shook her head now, and then she shrugged simply. “I’m an author.”

Narcissa raised a delicate brow. “And what, pray tell, do you write?” She had never met an author before, she didn’t think. But she was interested to know if Lily wrote more about cooking or housekeeping – not that she’d ever personally had to do either.

“My current piece is titled A Vindication on the Rights of Women.” Lily stated, something akin to a twinkle in her eye.

“Hmm. And what, exactly, are the rights of women, in your opinion?” Narcissa asked, trying to figure out what exactly a text with such a long name would be about.

Lily smirked and a self-satisfied air settled around her. “Nothing too radical,” she promised, though the lilting tone in her voice seemed to suggest otherwise. “In my previous work, I wrote against the aristocracy – instead, I believe that the people should have control over the state. I believe that the arrangement of our society, in which some individuals benefit by climbing over the backs of others, is horrendous.”

Narcissa choked. She was standing here speaking to a revolutionary. What on earth would her father say, to know that she was speaking to someone who, in all likelihood, supported the war that was going on! That supported this nonsense of revolution, of killing the monarchs. Who wanted to destroy the very lifestyle her ancestors had worked so hard for. Unfortunately, Lily’s emerald eyes were drawing her in and she couldn’t help but ask another question. “But what does all of that have to do with women? We’re not the ones fighting.”

Lily seemed to almost take this as a challenge and she rested a small hand on Narcissa’s arm, and Narcissa’s skin nearly burned under her touch. “I believe that, if a woman were to wish to, she should be able to be involved in whatever she so wishes. We, as women, are essential to our nation. We are more than just… just property to be sold to the highest bidder.” Narcissa was already thinking of her older sister’s engagement, a flurry of paperwork and a lack of meetings. Of her sister, in line next with similar arrangements already being set, and herself – the discussions of Lucius Malfoy that filtered up the stairs and into her bedroom. Lily was still speaking. “As long as we, as women, think rationally – there is so much more that we could all achieve.”

Lily had clearly gotten worked up speaking, her hand had tightened around Narcissa’s arm and her cheeks and chest were starting to flush. Narcissa wanted to catch the woman’s hand and run, take her away from this awful party full of people who would destroy her ideas, who would crush her enthusiasm and try to teach her her proper place. She had the brief idea that perhaps they could run, that she could spend the rest of her life watching the redhead’s skin flush and drawing laughter from her lips.

And then reality caught up to her, crashed into her like a pile of bricks and she remembered who she was. She was Narcissa Black. The third daughter and third disappointment for her family. To make up for her unfortunate gender, her primary goal in life was a good marriage to a rich man – not to spend her days with a woman who was likely penniless. None of this could ever work and she tore her eyes away from the green ones staring back at her and then scanned them across the room.

When they landed, what she had to do suddenly became clear to her and she turned back to Lily to scan her eyes over her beautiful face one last time. “Come with me.” She insisted, and slid her hand down into Lily’s, relishing in the feeling of small fingers and slightly rough skin.

“Where are you taking me?” Lily asked, laughter clear in her voice as Narcissa led her across the dance floor.

Narcissa paused, looked back at her destination. “I’m about to change your life.” She insisted.

“By all means.” Lily replied, and they crossed the last few steps of the dance floor in silence.

When they arrived, she flashed a smile to the men that now stood in front of them

"My cousin Sirius Black," she introduced, gesturing to a man in a soldier's uniform and long shaggy hair. "And his friend, James Potter." She didn’t know James well, but she did know Sirius and she knew that despite his redcoat, he believed in the revolution and their actions. That he had joined the war effort here in hopes that he could pull it apart brick by brick. His parents were disgraced, and he looked more pleased than she had ever seen him. She only assumed that James was the same.

James scanned his eyes across Lily's form and Narcissa held the sneer back from her face. He looked like a lovesick puppy. He looked helpless. She wanted to send him away, to catch Lily in her arms and do… something. Something that she was sure she was not supposed to want to do with anyone other than her husband – let alone another woman. Especially one with such dangerous ideas.

"Lily Evans," the redhead said, extending a hand and offering a small smile. "Pleasure to meet you."

James grinned and caught the hand, pressing his lips to Lily's smooth skin. Lily flushed and then flicked her eyes back to Narcissa, who was still looking steadily at James. She had known it would work – not that she was sure why, but she had known it all the same.

"James Potter. The pleasure is all mine." He assured her, stepping closer. Narcissa closed her hand into a fist, dug her nails into her palms, inhaled.

"Thank you for your service." Lily said, polite interest in her voice, nothing like the confident undertone from when she's spoken to Narcissa.

"If it takes fighting a war for us to meet, it will have been worth it." James purred, and Sirius snickered beside him.

Lily giggled, and Narcissa's heart shattered.

"I'll leave you to it." Narcissa nearly whispered, and she never looked back.

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