![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
westernredcedarTitle: Seekers
Part 3: Enter The Claw
Characters: Charlie/Viktor, guest starring Remus, with stealth!Snupin
Prompt: a drinking song
Summary: Charlie returns to the challenges of his real life back in Romania.
He knew he was being unfair to Remus, but he did blame him for his accident.
Rated: NC-17 overall, R in this part
Warnings for this part: a touch angsty, romance
Word Count: 2,100 in this part, appox. 15,000 in finished fic
Disclaimer: These are not my characters, and I make no profit from this.
A/N: Thank you to the fabulous![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
schemingreader for her amazing beta abilities. All remaining errors are all mine.
This was written for my![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
7spells claim, and will be cross-posted over there eventually. Sneak preview for the flist for now...
Catch up on the Charlie/Viktor lurve here:
Part 1
Part 2
Charlie flew back to the reservation. Flooing or apparating any distance after major physical trauma was dangerous at best and could cause serious re-injury at worst. Sitting on a broom was his best method of travel, but even that was a huge effort; his body was still so weakened. He needed to stop and rest every few miles. Misha, one of Charlie’s oldest friends at the reservation, had come down to fly back with him.
He and Viktor had said their proper goodbyes the night before, but they exchanged a chaste manly hug in front of Misha, The Claw, and the Chief Healer, who had come to see him off.
“Write to me when you arrive. I will worry, until then,” Viktor whispered.
“I will.” Charlie patted his shoulder, letting his fingers linger just a moment. “You’ll be out of here soon, mate. I’ll see you then.”
The Claw said, “Good luck. It will be difficult.” She shook his hand with her iron grip.
It was a wrench to fly off into the cool air. Charlie let himself look back at the calm oasis of the clinic only once, and could still see the small figure of Viktor looking after them.
He turned steadfastly forward, back towards the reservation, back towards his life. Oh, his life.
The boys at the reservation had organized a welcome home party. It was quite an event. Everyone wanted to toast him, everyone wanted to see his scars, everyone wanted to hear about living with Viktor Krum. Charlie talked in circles all night. Misha, who had found and rescued Charlie, shivering and almost unconscious in the West Pen after the accident, told his elaborate story repeatedly. They drank all night, sang rousing choruses of Charlie’s favorite drinking song*. Charlie was exhausted, his shoulder ached, and he missed Viktor desperately.
It was pleasant to be back in his own small room, however, with his own things, his own clothes, his own pillow. He felt like he had been gone for a year. He felt like a different man. He penned a quick note to Viktor.
Made it safe, place is the same, but no good without you. More tomorrow, and sent it off with an owl. He was asleep in a few minutes.
In the morning, he was startled awake by the once familiar snorts and crashes of the dragons in the nearby pens. The sound of the first loud bang woke him and he sat bolt upright and immediately broke out into a cold sweat as the noises continued. Then there was a light knock at his door.
He tensed, confused.
“Who is it?” he called. A brief fantasy that it was Viktor waiting on the other side of the door was quickly dashed when he heard a familiar, plaintive voice.
“It’s Remus. May I come in?”
Charlie sighed, deflated. Oh, his life. Remus.
“I suppose,” Charlie called, pulling himself out of bed and tugging a robe out of the wardrobe and over his head.
Remus Lupin opened the door slowly and peeked his head into the room.
“Come in,” Charlie said, avoiding walking towards the door. “I’ll make some tea.”
Remus stepped into the room, was quiet for a minute. “You look good,” he said at last.
“Thanks,” Charlie said. “It’s been hard.” He put the pot on.
“When did you get back?” Remus asked.
“Just last night, actually.” Charlie opened his canister of tea.
“Charlie,” Remus said softly.
Charlie stopped his bustling, snapped. “What, Remus? What do you want?”
Remus took the three long strides across the room and wrapped his arms around Charlie in a firm embrace. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” he repeated, stroking his hair, his sensitive back. Charlie let his arms hang loose, refusing to offer an embrace in return. After a minute, he shrugged off the hug, stepped away from Remus, turned to tend the teapot.
“Thanks for coming to visit me in hospital, your support during my recovery was truly inspirational,” Charlie heard his harsh words, wished he could take them back, or make them much more cruel. He wasn’t sure which.
“I didn’t think you would want to see me,” Remus replied standing stranded and rejected in the middle of the room.
“You were right. So why would that change now?”
“I’ll go,” said Remus, turning to the door.
“No, no, please, sit down for a chat. How is Severus, anyway? I’m dying to hear all the juicy details,” Charlie replied.
“Sarcasm really doesn’t suit you, Charlie,” Remus said, pink rising in his wan cheeks.
“Well, cheating on me didn’t fucking suit you, but you managed it all the same.”
They stared at each other for a long moment. Remus was the first to look away.
“I still care about what happens to you, Charlie. About what happened. I think it might have been my fault," Remus said to the floor. “I came to say I was sorry.”
Charlie closed his eyes.
He knew he was being unfair to Remus, but he did blame him for his accident.
Remus had come to the reservation that morning to tell Charlie that he had decided to leave him to return to Severus Snape and to admit that he and Snape had restarted their relationship weeks earlier. That had been just before Charlie had headed out to the West Pen to tend to an ailing Welsh Green. Charlie’s two-year relationship with Remus had been on an even keel, he’d thought, no sign of trouble. He had been shocked, distracted, didn’t even tighten his body armor properly, didn’t wear his balaclava. When the Welshy started acting up, Charlie should have left the pen immediately, but his mind was elsewhere, safety protocols forgotten, and he foolishly turned his back on the ornery creature. The blast of dragon fire was a direct hit, scorching through his armor, his clothing, through his skin.
His scars were all Remus. He remembered now the soothing feeling of Viktor’s fingers tracing over them, studying them, accepting them. Let that feeling wash over him like the cool waters of the sea.
Charlie took a deep breath, opened his eyes. “I accept your apology.”
Remus looked up at the abrupt change in Charlie’s tone.
“I didn’t expect to see you, Remus. You surprised me. It all feels like an eternity ago now.” Charlie sighed, sitting down. Remus sat down across form him.
“I really was horribly worried about you. Bill kept me up on your progress.”
“Fucking Bill,” muttered Charlie.
“How do you feel?”
“I’m alright, now. It all aches, and the scars get stiff if I don’t stretch properly. Could have been worse.” Charlie felt Remus’s gray eyes searching along his arm, his neck, seeing the red scars.
“Look Remus, I’m really not ready to be your best mate at this point, but I’m alright. I’m better than that, actually.”
“I’m so sorry.”
“I know.” Charlie touched his hand, and Remus grabbed hold, squeezed.
He apparated away a few minutes later, leaving Charlie alone with his thoughts.
He missed Viktor.
He had to give The Claw her due. She said coming back would be difficult, had tried to warn him.
He had been back at the reservation for a week. He and Viktor had exchanged a few short letters. Johan was letting Charlie ease back into work, allowing him to choose his tasks and take long breaks, and setting aside a space for him to do his stretches and exercises to limber up his back and shoulder. Charlie had volunteered to stock feed, sort the veterinary supplies, clean out an empty pen, make supper for the crew, any menial task. He had yet to lay eyes on a dragon. Charlie worked all week without recognizing there was a problem.
Then Misha asked him to help transfer a juvenile Fireball to the South Pen.
Images rushed back to him, the cold steely eyes, uneven scales, the bright spot of red by the snout as it turned on him, teeth like golden knives, and then the blue flame, like a blow-torch. His body started to shake, his skin was covered in a thin sheen of icy sweat. He was terrified, panicked.
He swallowed the choking bile rising in his throat and followed Misha to the pen. The actions of his body were automatic, he had completed thousands of pen transfers in his years at the reservation. But he watched this one from above, floating out of his body and hovering, laughing at his own weakness.
He barely made it back to his room before he threw up.
Whether The Claw was expert at divination, or just expert at her job, he never learned, but only minutes later, there was knock on the door. Two figures, one tall and thin, one solid and slouching, stood waiting for him. Heart rate accelerating, Charlie stared. It was The Claw. And Viktor.
“Follow-up appointment, Mr. Weasley,” said The Claw. Giving him a clinical visual once-over, she clamped an iron hand onto his clammy forehead. “I am needed.”
Charlie could not pull his eyes from Viktor, standing in his doorway. He wanted to bury his face in his warm neck, but he couldn’t, not here, not with The Claw standing by and his nosy colleagues passing his door at regular intervals.
“Charlie,” said Viktor in his cool deep voice. “I was able to come. We took the train.” He was wearing a brace around his lower back, Charlie could see it through his robe.
“Go in while I collect my supplies. I will be five minutes.” The Claw was very precise with time. She stalked away, with a stern glance at them both.
Charlie nodded, leading Viktor in the door, shutting it behind him. They looked at each other.
“You are ill,” said Viktor.
“How are you here?” asked Charlie. They were standing awkwardly apart. Being together in this new location was taking some adjustment.
“She thought I should come,” Viktor explained, “She said I should try a journey, how my back feels.” He licked his lips. “Also, she could see I was doing less well with you absent.”
“You are doing less well?” Charlie asked.
Viktor nodded and then closed the space between them in a few stiff steps, grasping Charlie’s face between his hands and kissing him firmly on the lips. Charlie snaked his arms around Viktor’s broad back and leaned into his solid, calming presence.
“I tried to fly,” Viktor said, resting his forehead against Charlie’s.
“I’ve lost my nerve,” Charlie said in return.
“I fell,” Viktor continued.
“I can’t even look at a fucking dragon,” said Charlie.
They stood leaning together for several minutes, in the quiet bubble of trust they had generated with these admissions.
“It is something between us,” Viktor said at last. “I am better here with you.”
Charlie was overwhelmed by Viktor’s forthrightness. He could think of nothing better to say than, “Yes,” but that seemed to satisfy him.
Just then The Claw returned, exactly five minutes after she had left. She made a bit of a racket coming in the door, and the men broke apart from each other, sat in separate chairs. Charlie could feel an electric change between them.
The Claw checked Charlie for fever, gave his back a quick prodding. It was a cursory exam at best. Viktor looked on.
“Is that all?” asked Charlie.
“We have missed the last train and must stay the night,” The Claw announced as she packed her small healer’s case, “You have already greatly improved.” It was unclear which patient she was speaking to. “I will secure guest accommodations, and check with you at eight in the morning to see that you have continued to recover.”
With a hint of a smile, The Claw stalked out the door.
Charlie and Viktor exchanged a curious glance.
“No guest accommodation for me?” Viktor said, smiling.
“Have we been set up?” Charlie asked.
“She is very good. She knows what her patients need,” said Viktor, moving towards Charlie.
Later that night, buried deep inside Viktor, luxuriating in his meaty, solid body below him, Charlie realized it- this was the only thing working in his life at the moment. With Viktor there, he was not thinking about the horrifying blast of dragon fire, or the struggle to move his shoulder properly, or of Remus and his weaknesses, only of Viktor, of his presence, of his kind eyes, and brutal honesty, and gorgeous, needy body.
With slow, careful thrusts, he took Viktor deeper, made him his, claimed him. Viktor grabbed Charlie’s head in his hands, pulled him into a fierce kiss as Charlie came.
All of their weaknesses and failures faded into the distance with each touch.
In the morning, Charlie watched Viktor walk away with The Claw, back to the Clinic. It felt like a beginning.
Johan gave him a leave of absence from the reservation.
“We want you back, Charlie, you belong here. You take care of yourself and come back to us when you are ready.”
“I will,” Charlie said.
It was with relief that he flew off, towards England, towards home.
Part 4
*In days of old in a kingdom bold, there lived a fearsome dragon.
And the King he was in great distress and the country’s spirits flagoned.
Until one day there came a knight, he was handsome, bold, and charming.
And he slew the dragon with his sword with a smile that was so disarming.
With a hey and a ho and a hey nany no, a smile that was so disarming.
Said the King I wish to know your name, but the knight said do not bother.
For the name of a knight of the realm says he, is the same as any other.
Said the King tonight in my daughter's bed you shall take your leisure.
And she'll reward you for your deed, with a night of exhausting pleasure.
With a hey and a ho and a hey nany no, a night of exhausting pleasure.
One daughter she had raven hair, a maiden young and chaste.
And she slept all night in the pale moonlight, naked to the waist.
The other daughter she was fair, the fairest in the town.
And she slept all night in the pale moonlight naked from her small waist down.
With a hey and a ho and a hey nany no, naked from her small waist down.
Well the knight he spends many an hour behind the castle wall.
But the ending to my story dear, isn't what it seems at all.
For in neither bed of neither maid was he repaid for his glory.
But he slept all night with the King instead for this is a fairy story.
With a hey and a ho and a hey nany no, for this is a Fairy story.
“A Fairy Story”, by Unknown, source: http://www.thebards.net/music/lyrics/A_Fairy_Story.shtml
Part 3: Enter The Claw
Characters: Charlie/Viktor, guest starring Remus, with stealth!Snupin
Prompt: a drinking song
Summary: Charlie returns to the challenges of his real life back in Romania.
He knew he was being unfair to Remus, but he did blame him for his accident.
Rated: NC-17 overall, R in this part
Warnings for this part: a touch angsty, romance
Word Count: 2,100 in this part, appox. 15,000 in finished fic
Disclaimer: These are not my characters, and I make no profit from this.
A/N: Thank you to the fabulous
schemingreader for her amazing beta abilities. All remaining errors are all mine. This was written for my
7spells claim, and will be cross-posted over there eventually. Sneak preview for the flist for now...Catch up on the Charlie/Viktor lurve here:
Part 1
Part 2
Charlie flew back to the reservation. Flooing or apparating any distance after major physical trauma was dangerous at best and could cause serious re-injury at worst. Sitting on a broom was his best method of travel, but even that was a huge effort; his body was still so weakened. He needed to stop and rest every few miles. Misha, one of Charlie’s oldest friends at the reservation, had come down to fly back with him.
He and Viktor had said their proper goodbyes the night before, but they exchanged a chaste manly hug in front of Misha, The Claw, and the Chief Healer, who had come to see him off.
“Write to me when you arrive. I will worry, until then,” Viktor whispered.
“I will.” Charlie patted his shoulder, letting his fingers linger just a moment. “You’ll be out of here soon, mate. I’ll see you then.”
The Claw said, “Good luck. It will be difficult.” She shook his hand with her iron grip.
It was a wrench to fly off into the cool air. Charlie let himself look back at the calm oasis of the clinic only once, and could still see the small figure of Viktor looking after them.
He turned steadfastly forward, back towards the reservation, back towards his life. Oh, his life.
The boys at the reservation had organized a welcome home party. It was quite an event. Everyone wanted to toast him, everyone wanted to see his scars, everyone wanted to hear about living with Viktor Krum. Charlie talked in circles all night. Misha, who had found and rescued Charlie, shivering and almost unconscious in the West Pen after the accident, told his elaborate story repeatedly. They drank all night, sang rousing choruses of Charlie’s favorite drinking song*. Charlie was exhausted, his shoulder ached, and he missed Viktor desperately.
It was pleasant to be back in his own small room, however, with his own things, his own clothes, his own pillow. He felt like he had been gone for a year. He felt like a different man. He penned a quick note to Viktor.
Made it safe, place is the same, but no good without you. More tomorrow, and sent it off with an owl. He was asleep in a few minutes.
In the morning, he was startled awake by the once familiar snorts and crashes of the dragons in the nearby pens. The sound of the first loud bang woke him and he sat bolt upright and immediately broke out into a cold sweat as the noises continued. Then there was a light knock at his door.
He tensed, confused.
“Who is it?” he called. A brief fantasy that it was Viktor waiting on the other side of the door was quickly dashed when he heard a familiar, plaintive voice.
“It’s Remus. May I come in?”
Charlie sighed, deflated. Oh, his life. Remus.
“I suppose,” Charlie called, pulling himself out of bed and tugging a robe out of the wardrobe and over his head.
Remus Lupin opened the door slowly and peeked his head into the room.
“Come in,” Charlie said, avoiding walking towards the door. “I’ll make some tea.”
Remus stepped into the room, was quiet for a minute. “You look good,” he said at last.
“Thanks,” Charlie said. “It’s been hard.” He put the pot on.
“When did you get back?” Remus asked.
“Just last night, actually.” Charlie opened his canister of tea.
“Charlie,” Remus said softly.
Charlie stopped his bustling, snapped. “What, Remus? What do you want?”
Remus took the three long strides across the room and wrapped his arms around Charlie in a firm embrace. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” he repeated, stroking his hair, his sensitive back. Charlie let his arms hang loose, refusing to offer an embrace in return. After a minute, he shrugged off the hug, stepped away from Remus, turned to tend the teapot.
“Thanks for coming to visit me in hospital, your support during my recovery was truly inspirational,” Charlie heard his harsh words, wished he could take them back, or make them much more cruel. He wasn’t sure which.
“I didn’t think you would want to see me,” Remus replied standing stranded and rejected in the middle of the room.
“You were right. So why would that change now?”
“I’ll go,” said Remus, turning to the door.
“No, no, please, sit down for a chat. How is Severus, anyway? I’m dying to hear all the juicy details,” Charlie replied.
“Sarcasm really doesn’t suit you, Charlie,” Remus said, pink rising in his wan cheeks.
“Well, cheating on me didn’t fucking suit you, but you managed it all the same.”
They stared at each other for a long moment. Remus was the first to look away.
“I still care about what happens to you, Charlie. About what happened. I think it might have been my fault," Remus said to the floor. “I came to say I was sorry.”
Charlie closed his eyes.
He knew he was being unfair to Remus, but he did blame him for his accident.
Remus had come to the reservation that morning to tell Charlie that he had decided to leave him to return to Severus Snape and to admit that he and Snape had restarted their relationship weeks earlier. That had been just before Charlie had headed out to the West Pen to tend to an ailing Welsh Green. Charlie’s two-year relationship with Remus had been on an even keel, he’d thought, no sign of trouble. He had been shocked, distracted, didn’t even tighten his body armor properly, didn’t wear his balaclava. When the Welshy started acting up, Charlie should have left the pen immediately, but his mind was elsewhere, safety protocols forgotten, and he foolishly turned his back on the ornery creature. The blast of dragon fire was a direct hit, scorching through his armor, his clothing, through his skin.
His scars were all Remus. He remembered now the soothing feeling of Viktor’s fingers tracing over them, studying them, accepting them. Let that feeling wash over him like the cool waters of the sea.
Charlie took a deep breath, opened his eyes. “I accept your apology.”
Remus looked up at the abrupt change in Charlie’s tone.
“I didn’t expect to see you, Remus. You surprised me. It all feels like an eternity ago now.” Charlie sighed, sitting down. Remus sat down across form him.
“I really was horribly worried about you. Bill kept me up on your progress.”
“Fucking Bill,” muttered Charlie.
“How do you feel?”
“I’m alright, now. It all aches, and the scars get stiff if I don’t stretch properly. Could have been worse.” Charlie felt Remus’s gray eyes searching along his arm, his neck, seeing the red scars.
“Look Remus, I’m really not ready to be your best mate at this point, but I’m alright. I’m better than that, actually.”
“I’m so sorry.”
“I know.” Charlie touched his hand, and Remus grabbed hold, squeezed.
He apparated away a few minutes later, leaving Charlie alone with his thoughts.
He missed Viktor.
He had to give The Claw her due. She said coming back would be difficult, had tried to warn him.
He had been back at the reservation for a week. He and Viktor had exchanged a few short letters. Johan was letting Charlie ease back into work, allowing him to choose his tasks and take long breaks, and setting aside a space for him to do his stretches and exercises to limber up his back and shoulder. Charlie had volunteered to stock feed, sort the veterinary supplies, clean out an empty pen, make supper for the crew, any menial task. He had yet to lay eyes on a dragon. Charlie worked all week without recognizing there was a problem.
Then Misha asked him to help transfer a juvenile Fireball to the South Pen.
Images rushed back to him, the cold steely eyes, uneven scales, the bright spot of red by the snout as it turned on him, teeth like golden knives, and then the blue flame, like a blow-torch. His body started to shake, his skin was covered in a thin sheen of icy sweat. He was terrified, panicked.
He swallowed the choking bile rising in his throat and followed Misha to the pen. The actions of his body were automatic, he had completed thousands of pen transfers in his years at the reservation. But he watched this one from above, floating out of his body and hovering, laughing at his own weakness.
He barely made it back to his room before he threw up.
Whether The Claw was expert at divination, or just expert at her job, he never learned, but only minutes later, there was knock on the door. Two figures, one tall and thin, one solid and slouching, stood waiting for him. Heart rate accelerating, Charlie stared. It was The Claw. And Viktor.
“Follow-up appointment, Mr. Weasley,” said The Claw. Giving him a clinical visual once-over, she clamped an iron hand onto his clammy forehead. “I am needed.”
Charlie could not pull his eyes from Viktor, standing in his doorway. He wanted to bury his face in his warm neck, but he couldn’t, not here, not with The Claw standing by and his nosy colleagues passing his door at regular intervals.
“Charlie,” said Viktor in his cool deep voice. “I was able to come. We took the train.” He was wearing a brace around his lower back, Charlie could see it through his robe.
“Go in while I collect my supplies. I will be five minutes.” The Claw was very precise with time. She stalked away, with a stern glance at them both.
Charlie nodded, leading Viktor in the door, shutting it behind him. They looked at each other.
“You are ill,” said Viktor.
“How are you here?” asked Charlie. They were standing awkwardly apart. Being together in this new location was taking some adjustment.
“She thought I should come,” Viktor explained, “She said I should try a journey, how my back feels.” He licked his lips. “Also, she could see I was doing less well with you absent.”
“You are doing less well?” Charlie asked.
Viktor nodded and then closed the space between them in a few stiff steps, grasping Charlie’s face between his hands and kissing him firmly on the lips. Charlie snaked his arms around Viktor’s broad back and leaned into his solid, calming presence.
“I tried to fly,” Viktor said, resting his forehead against Charlie’s.
“I’ve lost my nerve,” Charlie said in return.
“I fell,” Viktor continued.
“I can’t even look at a fucking dragon,” said Charlie.
They stood leaning together for several minutes, in the quiet bubble of trust they had generated with these admissions.
“It is something between us,” Viktor said at last. “I am better here with you.”
Charlie was overwhelmed by Viktor’s forthrightness. He could think of nothing better to say than, “Yes,” but that seemed to satisfy him.
Just then The Claw returned, exactly five minutes after she had left. She made a bit of a racket coming in the door, and the men broke apart from each other, sat in separate chairs. Charlie could feel an electric change between them.
The Claw checked Charlie for fever, gave his back a quick prodding. It was a cursory exam at best. Viktor looked on.
“Is that all?” asked Charlie.
“We have missed the last train and must stay the night,” The Claw announced as she packed her small healer’s case, “You have already greatly improved.” It was unclear which patient she was speaking to. “I will secure guest accommodations, and check with you at eight in the morning to see that you have continued to recover.”
With a hint of a smile, The Claw stalked out the door.
Charlie and Viktor exchanged a curious glance.
“No guest accommodation for me?” Viktor said, smiling.
“Have we been set up?” Charlie asked.
“She is very good. She knows what her patients need,” said Viktor, moving towards Charlie.
Later that night, buried deep inside Viktor, luxuriating in his meaty, solid body below him, Charlie realized it- this was the only thing working in his life at the moment. With Viktor there, he was not thinking about the horrifying blast of dragon fire, or the struggle to move his shoulder properly, or of Remus and his weaknesses, only of Viktor, of his presence, of his kind eyes, and brutal honesty, and gorgeous, needy body.
With slow, careful thrusts, he took Viktor deeper, made him his, claimed him. Viktor grabbed Charlie’s head in his hands, pulled him into a fierce kiss as Charlie came.
All of their weaknesses and failures faded into the distance with each touch.
In the morning, Charlie watched Viktor walk away with The Claw, back to the Clinic. It felt like a beginning.
Johan gave him a leave of absence from the reservation.
“We want you back, Charlie, you belong here. You take care of yourself and come back to us when you are ready.”
“I will,” Charlie said.
It was with relief that he flew off, towards England, towards home.
Part 4
*In days of old in a kingdom bold, there lived a fearsome dragon.
And the King he was in great distress and the country’s spirits flagoned.
Until one day there came a knight, he was handsome, bold, and charming.
And he slew the dragon with his sword with a smile that was so disarming.
With a hey and a ho and a hey nany no, a smile that was so disarming.
Said the King I wish to know your name, but the knight said do not bother.
For the name of a knight of the realm says he, is the same as any other.
Said the King tonight in my daughter's bed you shall take your leisure.
And she'll reward you for your deed, with a night of exhausting pleasure.
With a hey and a ho and a hey nany no, a night of exhausting pleasure.
One daughter she had raven hair, a maiden young and chaste.
And she slept all night in the pale moonlight, naked to the waist.
The other daughter she was fair, the fairest in the town.
And she slept all night in the pale moonlight naked from her small waist down.
With a hey and a ho and a hey nany no, naked from her small waist down.
Well the knight he spends many an hour behind the castle wall.
But the ending to my story dear, isn't what it seems at all.
For in neither bed of neither maid was he repaid for his glory.
But he slept all night with the King instead for this is a fairy story.
With a hey and a ho and a hey nany no, for this is a Fairy story.
“A Fairy Story”, by Unknown, source: http://www.thebards.net/music/lyrics/A_Fairy_Story.shtml
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 18 Jul 2007 06:27 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 18 Jul 2007 07:26 am (UTC)Thanks so much for reading and commenting! :)
no subject
Date: 24 Jul 2007 05:33 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 25 May 2011 01:02 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 25 May 2011 01:40 pm (UTC)I love The Claw too, I must admit. I think she was my first OC! :) Charlie/Remus still flits into my brain every once in a while...ahh, good times!
It's making me giddy to have such lovely comments on this old fic. *reads next one*
no subject
Date: 27 May 2011 03:15 am (UTC)Ah, The Claw. A true healer, yep. Yep.
I really liked that you didn't pussy-foot with Charlie's PTSD (or Viktor's for that matter), but it was real, a true fear, and around dragons, that's nothing to play around with.
I also liked his gut reaction to Remus, how the anger was right there, just below the surface, and also rather a departure from who we think we know this Charlie to be. I liked it - everything got very tense very quickly. (Even though I felt sorry for Remus, who shouldn't EVER mess around on Charlie [although it -was- with Severus....] )
MOAR !!!