I'm back, and I bring fic!
Oct. 3rd, 2006 09:31 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
rosie_ruesHello!
Apologies for the long silence - life has been a tad hectic of late. Since I last posted I've moved house (twice), gone back to uni, dealt with various crises and been sans internet for a few weeks (my course started early, but they wouldn't issue me with the paperwork to get my connection sorted until everyone else came back).
I'm afraid I don't have any more Summer of the Dragon at the moment, as I've just been too overwhelmed to write myself through a block on the next chapter. It's on my to-do list, and I'm being to adjust to my lecture load now, so should be back into the swing of things soon.
I shall be tackling comments as and when, but please don't think I don't love you :) Every comment is cherished and treasured and will be answered - I'm just still a little short on time when I can get online.
Hello, anyone new ^_^ Nice to meet you.
And now, onto something fresh. Yeah, I have no willpower. This doth be A Twilight Wooing (provisional title) aka.![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
scarvesnhats 2006. It isn't part of the Rising Storm Universe, but the characteristions will be similar - I just wanted to play with the timeline differently.
I
Title: A Twilight Wooing
Rating: PG
Words: 1052
Disclaimer: I have no rights over these characters. I make no claim that they are mine. I just like to write about them when my own characters aren’t feeling cooperative.
Prompt: All things on earth point home in old October: sailors to sea,
travellers to walls and fences, hunters to field and hollow and
the long voice of the hounds, the lover to the love he has forsaken.
~ Thomas Wolfe
Stone walls doe not a prison make,
Nor iron bars a cage;
Mindes innocent and quiet take
That for an hermitage;
If I have freedome in my love,
And in my soule am free,
Angels alone that sore above
Enjoy such liberty.
from To Althea From Prison, Richard Lovelace.
Remus eased the door shut carefully, mindful of the portrait brooding darkly behind the curtain. As it closed the light in the hall dimmed slowly, shutting out the golden evening. He hesitated briefly, watching the broad leaves whirl out of the scrubby garden in the centre of the square. Then the wind gusted in, lifting the curtains, and he pushed the door shut quickly.
He turned in time to see a single yellow-edged leaf drift across the hall, turning through the dusty gloom to sigh down on the floorboards. Even though only its heart was still green, it looked too alive for this place. Remus bent down to pick it up, meaning to take it to the kitchen, where it could join the lumpen cactus that Tonks had brought and Sirius’ somewhat ineffective attempt to grow a herb garden in old gin bottles.
A slight sound on the stairs made him look up.
Sirius stood there, ghost-quiet, gazing at the closed door. He was so still that he barely seemed to be breathing. The grey light from the dirty window over the stairs fell directly onto his face, making the shadows stark. His robes were clean, which was a good sign, and he wasn’t actually holding a glass, but he seemed entirely oblivious to Remus.
Remus felt the stem of the leaf twist below his fingers and made himself step forward.
Sirius bolted.
Behind him the portrait roused with a low moan. Remus swore and began to trot up the stairs after Sirius, keeping a careful distance. The first time this happened he’d tried to restrain Sirius and taken a fist in the face for his troubles. Molly had patched him up fast enough, but Sirius had been a shuddering, guilt-ridden wreck for days.
By the time he reached the head of the stairs Sirius had disappeared into the dark halls. Sighing, Remus shed his coat and trotted along to the room Sirius had been using.
Sirius wasn’t there.
The curtains had been knotted back savagely. There was another bottle on the windowsill, this one a red-glassed Ogden’s, and the sunlight blazed through the whole row of them, casting globs of green and red and white light across the bare boards and plain mattress. However, the dust hung still in the air. Sirius had not come this way.
He wasn’t in Buckbeak’s room, either, or any of the bathrooms, or the nursery, or the schoolroom. Remus eventually tracked him down at the far end of the attic.
There was a tiny skylight there, and Sirius had flung it open. He was leaning out and Remus could see his hair moving in the breeze. Unsure what mood this indicated, he cleared his throat.
Sirius ducked back inside, whirling round. Then he grinned widely, and said, “Moony!”
“Hello,” Remus said and smiled at him.
Sirius waved him forward, and he picked his way from beam to beam, avoiding piles of cobwebby chests and broken furniture inset with bone filigree. Sirius turned his body around to let Remus lean out of the skylight, and then pressed back into place behind him, his breath hot on Remus’ neck.
Remus breathed in the cold wind, caught between its blast and the heat of Sirius at his back. Before him the roofs stretched out, grey and leaf-smattered. Fire escapes tangled across slates and around smog-rimed roof gardens. Gutters swung, spilling over with leaves.
Above his head a pigeon suddenly rattled its wings, and he jumped.
“They can’t see us,” Sirius said in his ear. “Nobody can see us. I’ve been all over the roof, and it’s like being invisible. I even spat on some bloke’s head earlier and he blamed the pigeons.”
“You spat on his head?” Remus said, the teacher-voice coming out automatically.
Sirius shuffled behind him. “I was trying to miss. I tried to apologise, but he couldn’t see me, so yeah.”
Remus bit back, I really don’t think that’s appropriate behaviour, do you? and said, “Breezy.”
“I like the wind,” Sirius murmured, and began to fiddle with Remus’ collar. Remus endured the faint tickle, pinching his lip between his teeth.
“I remembered it,” Sirius said, voice fading until Remus had to strain to hear him above the wind. “Used to come up here a lot. Y’know, when I was little. Used to wonder what would happen to me.” He chuckled, pulling Remus’ hair. “Wanted to be a pirate or a bank robber or bandit. Noble outlaw pitted against the world.”
Remus hesitated, not sure if he should actually mention the obvious.
“Funny thing, thinking about the future,” Sirius said softly. “I can’t do it any more, Moony. I end up in the past instead.”
“We all do,” Remus said, closing his eyes.
“The wind blew, and I saw the leaves, and I came up here to dream. And I couldn’t do it, so I tried to remember instead.”
His cheeks were beginning to sting, so he focussed on that rather than the bitterness that gathered in his stomach. There were times when he wanted to shake Sirius until he stopped remembering childhood daydreams and the names of house elves and concentrated on things that mattered. Remember me, he wanted to say. We were lovers once. Remember that.
Demands, though, would make no difference. Sirius’ memories were too fragmented and all anger would achieve would be days of him skulking in corners, blinking back hurt until he erupted into a screaming argument with a portrait or, if the opportunity arose, Severus Snape.
Remus could be patient. He’d had years of practice.
He felt Sirius move behind him, grabbing forward, and opened his eyes in time to see him snag a leaf, his thin fingers closing around the stem. He laughed, for once without bitterness, and dangled it in front of Remus’ eyes. “Look!”
“It’s a leaf,” Remus said, smiling despite himself. “I’ve got one too.”
“Precisely!” Sirius crowed, tugging at his hand. “See! Snap!”
Remus held his ragged leaf up, letting the wind tug at it. It wasn’t really like the curl of gold that Sirius held, being from an entirely different type of tree, but he said, “Snap.”
Sirius laughed, releasing the leaf into the breeze, and Remus, a breath later, let his go, watching them dance into the sky together, tangling on the wind.
Apologies for the long silence - life has been a tad hectic of late. Since I last posted I've moved house (twice), gone back to uni, dealt with various crises and been sans internet for a few weeks (my course started early, but they wouldn't issue me with the paperwork to get my connection sorted until everyone else came back).
I'm afraid I don't have any more Summer of the Dragon at the moment, as I've just been too overwhelmed to write myself through a block on the next chapter. It's on my to-do list, and I'm being to adjust to my lecture load now, so should be back into the swing of things soon.
I shall be tackling comments as and when, but please don't think I don't love you :) Every comment is cherished and treasured and will be answered - I'm just still a little short on time when I can get online.
Hello, anyone new ^_^ Nice to meet you.
And now, onto something fresh. Yeah, I have no willpower. This doth be A Twilight Wooing (provisional title) aka.
scarvesnhats 2006. It isn't part of the Rising Storm Universe, but the characteristions will be similar - I just wanted to play with the timeline differently.Title: A Twilight Wooing
Rating: PG
Words: 1052
Disclaimer: I have no rights over these characters. I make no claim that they are mine. I just like to write about them when my own characters aren’t feeling cooperative.
Prompt: All things on earth point home in old October: sailors to sea,
travellers to walls and fences, hunters to field and hollow and
the long voice of the hounds, the lover to the love he has forsaken.
~ Thomas Wolfe
Nor iron bars a cage;
Mindes innocent and quiet take
That for an hermitage;
If I have freedome in my love,
And in my soule am free,
Angels alone that sore above
Enjoy such liberty.
from To Althea From Prison, Richard Lovelace.
Remus eased the door shut carefully, mindful of the portrait brooding darkly behind the curtain. As it closed the light in the hall dimmed slowly, shutting out the golden evening. He hesitated briefly, watching the broad leaves whirl out of the scrubby garden in the centre of the square. Then the wind gusted in, lifting the curtains, and he pushed the door shut quickly.
He turned in time to see a single yellow-edged leaf drift across the hall, turning through the dusty gloom to sigh down on the floorboards. Even though only its heart was still green, it looked too alive for this place. Remus bent down to pick it up, meaning to take it to the kitchen, where it could join the lumpen cactus that Tonks had brought and Sirius’ somewhat ineffective attempt to grow a herb garden in old gin bottles.
A slight sound on the stairs made him look up.
Sirius stood there, ghost-quiet, gazing at the closed door. He was so still that he barely seemed to be breathing. The grey light from the dirty window over the stairs fell directly onto his face, making the shadows stark. His robes were clean, which was a good sign, and he wasn’t actually holding a glass, but he seemed entirely oblivious to Remus.
Remus felt the stem of the leaf twist below his fingers and made himself step forward.
Sirius bolted.
Behind him the portrait roused with a low moan. Remus swore and began to trot up the stairs after Sirius, keeping a careful distance. The first time this happened he’d tried to restrain Sirius and taken a fist in the face for his troubles. Molly had patched him up fast enough, but Sirius had been a shuddering, guilt-ridden wreck for days.
By the time he reached the head of the stairs Sirius had disappeared into the dark halls. Sighing, Remus shed his coat and trotted along to the room Sirius had been using.
Sirius wasn’t there.
The curtains had been knotted back savagely. There was another bottle on the windowsill, this one a red-glassed Ogden’s, and the sunlight blazed through the whole row of them, casting globs of green and red and white light across the bare boards and plain mattress. However, the dust hung still in the air. Sirius had not come this way.
He wasn’t in Buckbeak’s room, either, or any of the bathrooms, or the nursery, or the schoolroom. Remus eventually tracked him down at the far end of the attic.
There was a tiny skylight there, and Sirius had flung it open. He was leaning out and Remus could see his hair moving in the breeze. Unsure what mood this indicated, he cleared his throat.
Sirius ducked back inside, whirling round. Then he grinned widely, and said, “Moony!”
“Hello,” Remus said and smiled at him.
Sirius waved him forward, and he picked his way from beam to beam, avoiding piles of cobwebby chests and broken furniture inset with bone filigree. Sirius turned his body around to let Remus lean out of the skylight, and then pressed back into place behind him, his breath hot on Remus’ neck.
Remus breathed in the cold wind, caught between its blast and the heat of Sirius at his back. Before him the roofs stretched out, grey and leaf-smattered. Fire escapes tangled across slates and around smog-rimed roof gardens. Gutters swung, spilling over with leaves.
Above his head a pigeon suddenly rattled its wings, and he jumped.
“They can’t see us,” Sirius said in his ear. “Nobody can see us. I’ve been all over the roof, and it’s like being invisible. I even spat on some bloke’s head earlier and he blamed the pigeons.”
“You spat on his head?” Remus said, the teacher-voice coming out automatically.
Sirius shuffled behind him. “I was trying to miss. I tried to apologise, but he couldn’t see me, so yeah.”
Remus bit back, I really don’t think that’s appropriate behaviour, do you? and said, “Breezy.”
“I like the wind,” Sirius murmured, and began to fiddle with Remus’ collar. Remus endured the faint tickle, pinching his lip between his teeth.
“I remembered it,” Sirius said, voice fading until Remus had to strain to hear him above the wind. “Used to come up here a lot. Y’know, when I was little. Used to wonder what would happen to me.” He chuckled, pulling Remus’ hair. “Wanted to be a pirate or a bank robber or bandit. Noble outlaw pitted against the world.”
Remus hesitated, not sure if he should actually mention the obvious.
“Funny thing, thinking about the future,” Sirius said softly. “I can’t do it any more, Moony. I end up in the past instead.”
“We all do,” Remus said, closing his eyes.
“The wind blew, and I saw the leaves, and I came up here to dream. And I couldn’t do it, so I tried to remember instead.”
His cheeks were beginning to sting, so he focussed on that rather than the bitterness that gathered in his stomach. There were times when he wanted to shake Sirius until he stopped remembering childhood daydreams and the names of house elves and concentrated on things that mattered. Remember me, he wanted to say. We were lovers once. Remember that.
Demands, though, would make no difference. Sirius’ memories were too fragmented and all anger would achieve would be days of him skulking in corners, blinking back hurt until he erupted into a screaming argument with a portrait or, if the opportunity arose, Severus Snape.
Remus could be patient. He’d had years of practice.
He felt Sirius move behind him, grabbing forward, and opened his eyes in time to see him snag a leaf, his thin fingers closing around the stem. He laughed, for once without bitterness, and dangled it in front of Remus’ eyes. “Look!”
“It’s a leaf,” Remus said, smiling despite himself. “I’ve got one too.”
“Precisely!” Sirius crowed, tugging at his hand. “See! Snap!”
Remus held his ragged leaf up, letting the wind tug at it. It wasn’t really like the curl of gold that Sirius held, being from an entirely different type of tree, but he said, “Snap.”
Sirius laughed, releasing the leaf into the breeze, and Remus, a breath later, let his go, watching them dance into the sky together, tangling on the wind.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2006-10-03 09:32 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-10-03 09:40 pm (UTC)Thanks for commenting :)
no subject
Date: 2006-10-03 09:54 pm (UTC)I was seriously startiny to worry, dude! so glad everything is okay.
also, lovely story.
no subject
Date: 2006-10-04 06:01 am (UTC)Thanks :)
no subject
Date: 2006-10-03 10:29 pm (UTC)I’m not following scarvesnhats carefully, so perhaps I should friend you, in case you are planning to write more about these Remus and Sirius.
no subject
Date: 2006-10-04 06:04 am (UTC)I'm glad the dreaminess came across - I actually sat down before I started for once and decided what I wanted to be doing about mood and themes, and that was a deliberate part of it.
Thanks for commenting :) I'm glad you enjoyed it.
no subject
Date: 2006-10-03 11:36 pm (UTC)Also, oh. Just a heartwrenching story.
no subject
Date: 2006-10-04 06:08 am (UTC)Glad you liked it :) Thanks for commenting.
no subject
Date: 2006-10-04 12:13 am (UTC)Um, nevermind. I just love this.
no subject
Date: 2006-10-04 06:11 am (UTC)Thanks for commenting :) I'm glad you liked it.
no subject
Date: 2006-10-04 12:44 am (UTC)Just goes to show the universe listens to me. :-D
no subject
Date: 2006-10-04 06:22 am (UTC)Thanks for the comment (and please ask the universe to fix my hot water. Ta)
no subject
Date: 2006-10-04 06:24 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-10-04 12:57 am (UTC)Welcome back, by the way! Maggie
no subject
Date: 2006-10-04 06:28 am (UTC)It's nice to be back :)
Thanks for commenting :)
no subject
Date: 2006-10-04 03:36 am (UTC)This looks to be lovely. Or at least lovely in the way things that are tinged with sadness are.
no subject
Date: 2006-10-04 06:32 am (UTC)I love writing melancholy things. They cheer me up.
Thanks for commenting :)
no subject
Date: 2006-10-04 06:30 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-10-04 06:33 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-10-04 11:49 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-10-08 07:22 pm (UTC)I'm glad you liked it :) Thanks for the comment.
no subject
Date: 2006-10-05 03:48 am (UTC)Hope you manage to continue it at some point, although your life sounds extremely hectic :).
no subject
Date: 2006-10-08 07:26 pm (UTC)I'm working on the next bit, now, but life is mad. I've been having fun working out what I want to do with this, though.
Thanks for the comment :) I'm glad you enjoyed it.
no subject
Date: 2007-09-12 05:46 pm (UTC)