Darkness in Her Blood
20 Minutes with Darla Response
Disclaimer: The Malfoy family name belongs to the brilliant J.K. Rowling. The Master and Darla are the creations of the marvelous Joss Whedon. I am simply borrowing them for a while and promise to return them just as evil as they were before.
Warnings: PG rating is for hints of rape and Darla's occupation before becoming a vampire.
"Out. Out! OUT!" A muttered curse and a blast of sparks from Lucretia Malfoy's wand was enough to effectively remove any mention of her eldest daughter from the family history. The little trollop . . . consorting with . . . muggles. It was sickening. Lavinia would be a disgrace to the Malfoy name no more. The mother sneered and smiled a cruel smile as her former daughter stumbled, disoriented into the street.
"My name is Lavinia Malfoy." The words fell from numb lips as she stumbled. "My name is Lavinia Malf . . . Lavinia . . . Lav . . ." The young blonde woman stared at the street before her, blinked as the last memories of her former life dropped away. Lost were the memories of a privileged existence, gone with her mother's curse and the destruction of her own wand.
She couldn't even remember her own name.
"Well, well, what have we here?" The voice was cultured and yet coarse. The tone sent shivers down her spine. Another answered the first, and another. They taunted, jeered. They HURT. When it was over and they had taken what they wanted, they walked away laughing. Gentlemen, she thought . . . not bloody likely. The pain tore through her, burning and eating away at what little she'd had left.
She awoke in a bed. Not necessarily a clean bed, or warm either, but it was a bed nonetheless. "There, dearie, you'll feel a mite better soon." A cup was pressed into her hand. Liquid both hot and cold at once made her sputter and cough and gasp for breath. "You got a name, dove?"
"Yes. Of course. It's . . ." She looked up at her savior, terrified at the realization. "I don't know who I am."
"Don't fret. We'll take care of ye."
And so she found a new life amongst the women of the night; a life she was good at. She became a quick favorite and earned passage to the New World in trade. She didn't know who she was, so she became whoever they wanted her to be, taking their money and, unknowingly, their diseased madness.
He found her one night, a few coins in one hand and a bottle in the other. Sensing something in her perhaps, he chose to give to her a new life, restoring her to the glory and power she knew she had forgotten. At his right hand, she took what she wanted, and walked away laughing.
She was the most vicious of his children, and he had known she would be. The darkness was in her blood.
His Dear One.