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Dorcas had really lost the plot. Here he was, spoiling her with a weekend designed specifically for her liking, offering not only to take her on more holidays but also to buy her a small country – a legitimate offer if there ever was one. And how did she respond? Rodolphus’ grip on her arm released instantly but he was too late to block her. The heel of her palm made contact with his nose with a thick crunch, blood pouring out only a moment later. “What the absolute fuck, Dorcas!” He didn’t know if it was broken or not, but he wouldn’t have put it past the Auror. Her tenacity was typically something that attracted him, even when it was directed at him, but this was nothing like the foreplay they usually engaged in.

Grabbing for her hands, he managed to wrestle her drink glass away from her and throw it off the path where it fell somewhere alongside his now soggy cigarette but as he lunged at her, the force of his body caused them both to topple over. In an attempt to stop himself from landing completing on top of Dorcas, Roddy stuck out his right arm. The force of their fall nearly knocking the wind out of him didn’t stop him though, his left hand tore at the hidden pocket of her sleeve where he knew her wand would be. “You’re a fucking crazy bitch, you know that?” He’d called her as much in a complimentary tone on a number of occasions. This time, his intent wasn’t as obvious. The front of his shirt, not to mention the snow below them, was dotted with his blood, as was his face. "Fucking women!" He looked absolutely deranged.

Managing to disarm her, he pulled himself to his feet, looking down at her. Without her wand, she had no way of leaving, thus he could leave her here on the snowy path to get herself straight while he tended to his nose. As he walked away from her toward the villa, in possession of two wands and broken nose, it felt strangely reminiscent of their first holiday. She’d not broken anything during that first vacation away, but he had hidden her wand and trapped her there until she’d cooled off. He had thought they were past this point after all these years but Dorcas was always full of surprises. Even when he thought he knew her, she pulled a stunt like this.

This sort of display he hadn’t seen from her in a while and it honestly shocked him. “What the fuck is your problem, then?” he asked, earnestly. He’d set up this entire holiday, planned the location and entertainment all specific to her liking, and still she was pissed off about something. But what? “You’ve not got any plans with friends, I asked. So don’t pull that shit with me!” He hollered at her back as she walked away but it wasn’t enough. Rodolphus flicked his cigarette angrily off into the snowy mounds alongside the walking path. Then he followed after her, catching her easily with her tiny legs and grabbing her around the upper arm, pulling her towards him. “What the fuck is going on, Meadowes? I love that you’re a crazy bitch and all, but you’re just throwing a wobbly for no sodding reason! Fuck, do you have any idea how hard it is to plan a holiday you won’t bitch about? You’re fucking impossible.” She truly was. He had gone to great lengths to ensure this was a special weekend for them – their first proper Valentine’s Day and they were actually going to spend it together. He wasn’t tied down trying to make Bellatrix happy or convince the rest of wizarding society that their marriage was a success. He had ruled out all tropical locations because of Dorcas’ insane dislike for sand – which severely limited his choice of Lestrange-owned properties as they had quite a few islands, and he had tried avoiding revisiting any place he’d already taken her. And here she was having a strop like a toddler over Merlin knows what. He was really rather put out by the suddenness of it all.

Reaching into the pocket of his coat, Rodolphus retrieved a silver cigarette case, his initials engraved into the cover with a flourish. Placing a cigarette between his lips, he snapped the case shut with a crisp click that sounded loudly against the vast snowy surroundings of the Italian mountains. He pocketed the case and pulled his wand out, lighting the tip of his cigarette, gazing off over the scenery. Dorcas was taking her sweet arse time and Rodolphus smirked to himself, imagining the sort of proposition Meadowes might make of the masseuse that rivaled the one he’d made to his own girl. He was certain Dorcas could make a witch weak at the knees with just a look, and perhaps a shake of her plump arse, and he easily pictured the two women together, playing in the massage oils and twisting themselves up in the sheets. He was not unaccustomed to such thoughts, any attractive enough woman could elicit such a fantasy, but with Dorcas he didn’t immediately picture himself at the center of the lesbian scene. He enjoyed watching her, whether it was fantasy in his mind or flesh and blood pressed against him. He had witnessed enough of her pleasure moans and excited expressions that he could easily replicate what her encounter with the masseuse would likely look like and he was happy to just imagine such a scene until he managed to coerce Dorcas into giving him a real show. He didn’t expect that to happen any time soon, as Dorcas always rebuffed his suggestions, but there wasn’t much harm in trying. He could be subtle, in his own way. He’d let Dorcas have the more attractive of the gorgeous women, a thin blonde woman with light eyes and thick hips. Whoever said chivalry was dead had clearly not met Rodolphus Lestrange.

A brightly colored movement below drew Roddy’s eye and he saw the witch he’d been waiting for walking along a path moving away from the villa. His thick brow furrowed for a moment, then he turned to look back inside, as if expecting to see Dorcas standing there to explain he’d seen someone else leaving. That was obviously not the case. Perhaps she had fooled around with the masseuse and was now embarrassed of herself for some reason. Although he could (and had) imagined Dorcas in nearly every situation possible, Rod couldn’t picture Dorcas being embarrassed. Perhaps it was something similar to anger. Many of her emotions tended to lean that way – another reason he enjoyed her so much. Embarrassment wasn’t a likely reason he thought as he turned on the spot and apparated from the balcony down to the pathway several steps behind Dorcas. The glass in her hand, which he hadn’t been able to discern from his previous position, helped him decide that she was simply enjoying the scenery, not avoiding him for some unknown reason. There would have been no reason in the last hour for her to suddenly had become displeased with him, though reason didn’t often come into play where Dorcas’ emotions were concerned. He’d stolen her away for a proper Valentine’s weekend, something she’d not had in a very long time, he’d given her an attractive blonde to caress every inch of her body, and he kept arranged for the event to seem less couple-y than a double massage ought to be. He was clearly slaying this weekend, and therefore had no hesitation as he extended the length of his stride and met Dorcas with a wandering hand and a deep, menacing voice against her ear. “Enjoying yourself?”

Ader didn’t take long retrieving the drinks and soon enough he had returned, a silver tray with a variety of glasses sat upon it in his stubby little hands. Rodolphus took Dorcas’ drink without so much as a gracious glance in the elf’s direction and passed it to the brunette before taking his own drink. Ader walked the rest of the drinks to the Burkes and sat Aurora’s on a coaster on the table beside the sofa, brightly colored liquid with at least six cherries shoved in the glass. Just how she liked it. The elf scuttled off quietly as Aurora looked to Dorcas, her face still bright with excitement. “I’m holding the baby!” she shared in what was more like a stage whisper than a real one. Her volume carried but she was not nearly as loud as she had been upon entering the room. Spoiled at only seven years old made it difficult to demonstrate any sort of self-control, as Rodolphus’ own childhood nannies could attest to, but Aurora was growing and her behaviors had decreased significantly in the last year or so. Rodolphus was really rather pleased with how his princess was turning out, but he still needed a little prince or two around the chateau. A marriage for Aurora wasn’t going to keep the Lestrange name. “Parkinson’s already marrying off her bastard, is she? That’s a good move on her part, although it’s a shame that family name might not be carried on.” Rodolphus snorted into his glass with laughter, took a sip, then continued. “Although, let’s be honest, this isn’t the only accident that witch will be having. Is it?” Dora was nice enough, she was Fin’s friend and a bit of a flirt, a lot of a tramp, but entertaining to be around in short doses. Her whorish ways were well known around their social circles, and it only added to the drama the Parkinson family had encountered over the years. If the Burkes were considering Dora’s bastard a suitable partner for their son, then Aurora was well above their league, not that that fact was ever in question. Aurora leaned forward and kissed the baby on his forehead.

Holidaying with Dorcas had taken some trial and error when they were younger. His first venture into kidnapping the little wench was to a private island his parents owned complete with a lavish, fully staffed holiday home and wild tropical jungle to explore, and while they’d had plenty of fun in the end, Dorcas was not at all pleased with the situation. The sand, he discovered after a few more outings, was apparently problematic for the then-brunette and while he claimed she would just have to deal with it, Rodolphus had decided he was up to the challenge of fucking her in some foreign location she couldn’t possibly complain about. A tall order, to be sure. Far taller than Dorcas herself, but he liked a little challenge and most importantly he liked Dorcas’ cunt. There was a reason she’d been his mistress for more than a decade, much to the chagrin of his now deceased ex-wife.

Bella had been treated to the same lavish lifestyle Rodolphus now offered Dorcas, but she took to it better than her tiny counterpart. Bellatrix came from money and a respectable, although incestuous, family line. She was not as easily marveled by a trip to the states or a week in the jungles of South America. Dorcas played the part of outraged kidnapping victim and indignant witch, but he could see the look of awe she tried to hide beneath spitfire and loathing. Bellatrix was different. They’d been friends once upon a time, and as shocking as it was to admit now, Rodolphus had actually been eager at one time to take Bella as his bride. They were a perfect pair in school but her priorities laid elsewhere and she eventually disregarded her duties as a wife and mother altogether. They could have had many more years of hidden unhappiness between them, had Bella’s delusions not turned her so adamantly against their daughter. For all the strife he had felt upon her birth, Rodolphus loved his daughter completely and would allow no one, not even his own wife, to threaten her safety. It was ironic how the events had all unfolded. Bellatrix, so despising of her own offspring and jealous of her husband’s mistress, only to be killed by the very woman she hated and replaced almost entirely by her as well. Aurora thought of Dorcas as a playmate, but there were motherly feelings beginning to grow. Dorcas had all but sold her teeny cottage, living as a wealthy pureblooded witch despite whatever she claimed to herself or others. If there was anyone less worthy of Rodolphus’ attention it was certainly Dorcas and yet wheels were in motion and he had little intention of pulling the brakes.

Dorcas announced her return to the main room with a query and Rodolphus looked up from his drink, his caramel eyes meeting her green ones. Handing her a glass, he answered her question. “Breuil-Cervinia,” he replied, his Italian accent near perfect. “Italy,” he added, sensing she didn’t grasp the entirety of what he was saying. His eyes wandered down over her figure, almost entirely obscured by an oversized jumper but still hinting at her feminine curves. The corners of his lips curled downward as his eyes rested on her trousers. Tight enough to make her perfect arse look impossibly delicious but also tight enough to do his bloody head in when he tried to get her out of them later. Ader was taking a shine to Dorcas, clearly wanting her to be comfortable and happy, but it wouldn’t do to have the pair of them teaming up to make life harder on Rod. “Did you paint those on?” he asked of her trousers, taking a sip of his drink then tilting his head to get a look at her bum.

Once upon a time, Dorcas would have fought against him, argued, and demanded to be returned home whenever he kidnapped her and took her wherever he decided. The first time he’d done so, she sulked for several hours and watched as Rodolphus went swimming in ocean water to crystal clear you could see 50 feet below as if it were two. Eventually she gave in and enjoyed herself and over time she put up less of a fight at the beginning of their travels until eventually she just accepted her fate. This couldn’t even really be called kidnapping any longer, more a surprise spontaneous holiday, but they both preferred to think of it as something against her will. It made it easier to separate any feelings they might have felt for each other from the holiday they were enjoying. Arrived in Italy, Dorcas didn’t argue or yell or throw a tantrum of any sort, she simply demanded pizza, just as he assumed she would. “All you can eat, and whenever you want it. Just like my cock.” Dorcas skipped off to have a look around and ordered Roddy to fix the thermostat. He did so with a flick of his wand and the most smug expression he could muster, knowing she was already enjoying herself.

Dorcas headed in the direction of the bedrooms – there were seven in total and Rodolphus had made plans to soil each and every one of them, though their luggage had been set up in one of the larger bedrooms with a wall of windows that looked out over the snowy mountains and a door leading to one of many enchanted balconies where snow gathered despite being warm enough to sit out comfortably next to a firepit. Rodolphus stayed in the lounge, turning in the opposite direction and making his way predictably to the bar where he inspected what they had on offer and began fixing himself and Dorcas a drink.