Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.

This drabble series was written for xBeautifulTragedy's challenge on Harry Potter Fanfiction Challenges forum titled Make an album into a story competition.

My album was Losing Sleep by Parachute.

This first drabble is functioning as the introduction or prologue. The quote is taken from the song "All That I Am".

Full summary: With a deft, deliberate movement, she captured the last remaining knight. The King stood before her, solitary and defenseless. She narrowed her gaze and stared down at him. They both knew what was coming next. It had happened so often, this ceremony of theirs. The Queen lifted her chin majestically, a wild, victorious gleam in her eye.

Bella and Rodolphus' crumbling marriage as told in a series of drabbles.

I hope you enjoy.

Checkmate

All That I Am

"Oh and they're lining up like soldiers, going off to fight the war."

He was the ideal soldier in every way. Silent, solemn, submissive. He followed orders, yet he was ruthless.

The elegant swish of the black fabric soothed him. This was their ritual, their sacred communion. Preparing for war like a priest for Mass, slowly and smoothly. There was no hitch in their expressions, no faltering in their steps.

He buttoned the top clasp of his dark robe and watched as the sleeves drifted about his fingertips like little black doves. His hood was raised, and the white, skull-like mask slipped over his features.

He peered out from behind the slits and watched as she buckled her boots. Her tongue clicked against straight teeth like a metronome, keeping pace with her partner on the other side of the room.

There was no hint of the blood lust that coursed beneath her skin, no sign of the cruelty that was to burst forth from her body when they began to fight. They held their anticipation coiled tight within them, a twisted, confined waiting.

Of all the Death Eaters, they were the best at hiding their minds. Each studious, unhurried motion brought them ever closer to the looming edge of the battle, but they did not hesitate. They were stoic, contained statues, impassive – huge chess pieces. He was the King. She was the Queen.

This was their dance, their duet. Folded and closed up feelings tucked tight behind the door of their hearts. Eighteen years of marriage, eighteen years of lying.

And while he was the King and she the Queen – he was never in control. It had always been and always would be her. She was powerful and commanding, everything that he wished to be but never could.

The last steps of the waltz now. He unsheathed his wand and focused his vision on the door in front of him. They Apparated at the same time, and a moment later they were in the vaulting, cavernous room at Malfoy Manor.

The Dark Lord stood at the end of the hall with his back facing them. Lucius and Draco were already alert, and as the Lestranges strode the echoing floors of the chamber, more Death Eaters appeared in billowing clouds of smoke, a silent throng eager to do their Master's will, desperate to rip into the heady lust of the battle and satisfy their urge for blood. Yet all the while there was the ever constant tingling of terror. What if their Lord turned against them, what if they failed him?

Rodolphus glanced at his wife. She never felt such mortal, childish qualms. How could she even imagine disappointing her Master? Whenever he called, she immediately hastened to complete the task.

"Bella," the Dark Lord murmured, and she quickly moved to his side. "You, Lucius, Rodolphus, and Rabastan will bring me the boy. Unharmed. He is mine."

She nodded obediently, and with the slightest turn of her head, she gazed into the eyes of her husband.

"He chose me," she seemed to hiss. "It will always be me. And he will always be my choice. Never you."

He stared back into her wild eyes for a moment before parting his thin lips as if to protest, but suddenly a white, five-legged spider crept up Bella's shoulder and paused at the crest of the bone, quietly approving of her loyalty.

Approval was the closest their Master could get to love.

He was touching her, God, he was touching her – and her mouth was opening in a soundless purr of pleasure. She liked it, he noticed. And she had never let him touch her like that.

He saw and he boiled inside, but he could not move towards his Master in order to protect his wife.

She taunted him when he needed to be still. Her brow arched in his direction as if daring him to leap forwards and wrench the vile fingers from her body.

His chin dropped, acknowledging her superiority. She had won, like she always did.

A glimmer of triumph in her expression, a pleased, gloating smile.

A tongue that dashed around red lips, the word gathering, coagulating in her voice box and dripping like poisonous honey from behind her teeth.

He saw and he boiled inside –

Checkmate.

– but he could not move.

Checkmate.

Please tell me what you think. This is my first time writing Bella or Rodolphus, and I definitely liked it.