Marked • Tom Riddle

His Turmoil

   The Dark Lord watched with his heart in his throat as his newly appointed wife danced a waltz with her Grandfather, smiling brightly with her perfect smile through the crowd of wizards who basked in the celebratory reception of their wedding. He was now on his fifth glass of wine within the hour, his mind abuzz and his body in an airy state, but that did not prevent him from demanding another from a passing server who obliged him in an instant. He knew he should not be a drunkard at his own wedding. Sure, it may have been a cause for celebration, but this event was a business transaction just as grimy as any, and the price happened to be his sanity.

   As the Dark Lord reached across the table for his freshly poured cup, the onyx band on his finger flashed against the light and a feeling of nausea enveloped him as he was reminded of his mistake. Karina, his wife. Yes, he had wanted her. He had wanted her more than anything; mind, body, and soul. And just as he had done with anything he'd ever put his mind to in life, he had gotten her, he had managed to get every small piece, every tiny bit of her. For a moment, for a small, faint sliver of time, everything had been perfect. 

   She had looked stunning when he'd found her in her bedroom moments before their wedding, even more so when she had walked down the aisle. Karina, his wife. His perfect wife. He had not believed marriage could be in the cards for him, children had always been his goal. To ensure a legacy so powerful, that no one in the eons to come would ever come close to tearing it down. Grindelwald had known his desire for this legacy, after all, he was a man cut from the same dark cloth. So Tom knew he wanted a piece of it for himself. He had dangled it in his face from the moment his own daughter had become pregnant the first time with the son that never came to be. Grindelwald knew he wouldn't be able to resist. They had said it was a devastating incident; the miscarriage, but Tom knew better. A male heir could not have been more powerful than him, a male heir could not have been pawned off as a means to garner more power. No, that incident was Grindelwald's doing. He knew the man Tom would become, he knew the power he would hold, and most of all he knew the legacy he would want to ensure. There was a reason why a family as powerful as the Grindelwalds was only able to produce one heir, an uncommon practice for Pureblood wizards. Just one female heir to inherit it all.  One female heir to become the Dark Lord's wife and ensure his legacy. Everything so that their wedding day could take place had been in the works for a long, long time. Yes, the Dark Lord knew this. He even let himself be a pawn in the old man's game, so long as it got him the children he so deeply desired.  

   Tom watched as his now father-in-law poured himself another drink. He sat with his head low as his wife stood next to him, arguing with him about something. Tom could only guess, but it was likely about him having sat out on walking his daughter down the aisle. A foolish move, indeed, but Tom knew every man had his limits, even the biggest fool of this entire transaction. Rosier without a doubt had caught on to Grindelwald's plan, had even tried to convince him otherwise, but to no avail. Tom had to admit, although his own powers laid in magic, Grindelwald's laid in persuasion. A silver tongue, he had. One he used to convince Rosier to give up the one thing he cared for most in the world, the one thing he loved more than life; his only child; his only daughter. 

   Yes, it had all been so perfect. His perfect wife, future children to secure his legacy, and all the power in the world. For a moment, he had believed he truly had it all. For a brief moment his life had been perfect, that is... until she spoke the words that had killed the perfect life he had worked so hard for. All it took was a simple I love you and it had all come crumbling down. 

   "Tom," she ran over to his table with the biggest smile on her beautiful face, her excitement emanating from her like a ray of light. A beautiful little fool. Just like her Mother, just like her Father, just like himself. "Won't you come dance with me, Tom?" She looked at him with the most hopeful eyes, eyes that did not have the faintest idea of the truth. Oh, the things the men around her had done to get her here, and she had not the faintest idea in that pretty little head of hers. 

   He knew when she had become smitten with him, he could see it in those same hopeful eyes when she began to fall for him. It had started before he had taken her memories; a glance that lasted too long, a faint blush over her cheeks when she caught herself, a faint glimmer of light behind her eyes, but it was only after he'd stripped her of her fear towards him, her hatred, her soiled memories of the things he'd done did that light burst into flames. He could see her love towards him grow with every kind conversation between them, with every touch, with every false promise that all came from a place of greed to possess her. Gaining her love became an addiction. It brought him warmth, it brought him happiness, she fulfilled a need in him he did not know he had, she made him believe he could be worth loving, she made him feel like he could finally stop fighting for his way in the world and be at peace with everything he had. He knew her love was true. He knew with his whole heart that her love towards him was pure and warm and good. And that is what made his insides twist and turn like ivy growing in his intestines. 

   The Dark Lord shook his head, "Not tonight." Her face immediately fell and her eyes lost their hope. He thought about taking back his words, he thought about the joy it would bring her if she stood right then and took her to dance, but he was a selfish man and it did not seem he was capable of change, so he stayed put. Instead of running back to join her friends and family, she forced a smile and sat down next to him. 

   "Tom, are you alright?" she asked, taking his hand under the table. She felt so warm against his icy skin and it pained him knowing her touch brought him comfort. He downed the glass of wine in two large gulps and looked at her in her gorgeous state, all dolled up for him, for their wedding. He wanted to yell at her, he wanted to shout and punish her for thinking it was alright to talk to him so directly, to look at him in the eyes instead of lowering her head, to touch him so freely. But he knew if he did that, that it would all be an act. He wanted to want to yell at her for all those things, but in reality, all he wanted was to accept the love she put out for him. He wanted more than anything to believe he could have it and return it to her. But how could he allow himself to love half of a woman? How could he allow himself to love this half while the other, the one who holds all her fears, her dark memories, the difficult truths, the one who makes the woman across from him a real person lays hidden away inside her grandmother's locket? How could he allow himself to accept the pure love she puts out for him when his comes from a place of greed?

   "I'm fine, darling," he said, giving her hand a reassuring squeeze. "It's been a long day, that's all."

   She sighed, "It has, but I'm hoping you have some energy saved up for tonight."

   Tom chuckled, it seemed she too had had some wine to drink. "Yes, I'm sure I do. Now, go dance, your family is waiting." She gave him a soft smile before running off to rejoin her friends and family. He watched her basking in the happiest day of her life; the beautiful granddaughter of a devious man, the daughter of a foolish one, now married to a beast such as himself. 

   As the Dark Lord watched his wife laugh, smile, and bring light into his dark world, he decided on one thing. He did love her. It had pained him to say it the first time and it would pain him to say it every other time to come because he could not allow himself to love her completely. He could not allow himself to love half a person, not when he knew what he had done, and the half he had stolen from her. Although he wanted to believe more than anything her love for him would remain if her memories returned, he would not risk it because loving her in a false relationship was better than not loving her at all. Having her in a half state was better than losing her completely.