Fic for cuban_sombrero
Author: savepureness
Recipient: cuban_sombrero
Title: Four Times Nymphadora Tonks Chose With Her Mind (And Not Her Heart)
Pairing: Nymphadora Tonks/Charlie Weasley, (implied) Nymphadora Tonks/Bill Weasley and Nymphadora Tonks/Remus Lupin
Rating: G
Word Count: 858
Summary: A series of flashbacks of Tonks’ friendship-that-was-so-much-more with Charlie; and the bitter, epilogue-compliant, ending.
Author’s Notes: Dear giftee, you asked for historical/literature references, so I decided to concentrate on that! At the beginning my intention wasn’t to turn everything in a puddle of sap, but in the end - I changed my mind. Enjoy!
(one)
“I’ll always be your second-best.”
Charlie laughs, but his mouth twists unpleasantly.
Of course she knows; just as well as she’s sure there’s no friend of hers more honest than him.
“Charles.” She likes it better. He likes it when she’s saying it, too, it sounds more like an adult’s name. “You’re being childish.”
He’s not. He’s never been. He always tried not to be.
“It’s difficult, Tonks.” (He’d call her Dora, but she might as well claw at his face if he dared.) “To grow up in Bill’s shadow, and then -“
She turns her back to him. It’s hard for her too, and mostly when she has to bear the look on his face, accusing her. Well, she didn’t betray him.
“It’s just a choice, it might change.” She tries laughing, but it fails her. “You know me.”
“Are you familiar with Muggle history?”
Tonks shrugs. Quite a great moment to change the subject.
“There was a queen once, they claim, and her beauty bore no comparison.” He’s too poetic, and he hates it. He’s reading too many books. “She was clever, too”, he tones down, “and she caught in the power of her charms none other than the greatest emperor that was.”
“Were they happy?”
“I can’t tell you. It wasn’t in the book.”
“And?”
Sensing her eagerness, Charlie feels better, and more secure. “There was another one… who loved her. Simpler. A man of fewer words. A warrior.”
“Did she make a choice?”
“She did.”
“What happened to the warrior?” guesses Tonks.
“He covered himself in glory in just as many victorious campaigns. And in the end - Tonks. I’m leaving.”
Still showing him her back, she nods, grimacing as something twists painfully inside her. “I thought so.”
-
Charlie doesn’t tell her how the story ended.
(two)
Tonks makes her decision abruptly, as she does everything in life. A few white lies, some excuses, and a touch of the pretense she’s mastering so greatly, and off she goes to visit Charlie in Romania. She’s been missing him. Things are uncertain with Bill.
“That’s all?”
Charlie had missed her tempestuous laughter. Her comment amuses him; he’s not at all bothered.
“It’s tiny, yes. And quite cold in the winter. Luckily, bans and restrictions concerning the use of magic aren’t very strict around here. I sure can find, err, alternate methods of starting a fire, should I need one. And plus, there’s the dragons. Quite enough to keep me warm.”
That, she can see. Although sturdily built, just like his twin brothers, Charlie’s limbs are sinewy while strong, and his movements seem more fluid and lighter. She chases away a glimpse of his arms on the small of her back, pressing gently, but firmly. It’s a social call.
“And how is my brother?”
“What, aren’t you guys talking?” She lands on the only available chair; a bit on the rickety side, it’ll still hold. “How was that, bros before hoes?”
“You’re not a hoe.” Charlie’s frown softens her, and she almost surrenders to a smile.
“Your brother and I -“
He’s the one who takes her in his arms, so much unlike in her earlier daydream. It’s comfort, and she was longing for it, this is her best friend, it feels like home in this godforsaken mountain shelter; inside, she’s longing for more.
“We always talk of Merlin” she murmurs, her mouth in his hair - he smells of winter. “We end up forgetting the others who were there.”
“Others?” (Don’t stop.) Charlie puts his head on her lap; he stops breathing.
“The ladies, the knights, the queen, the king, and that particular knight who -“ Tonks’ voice crashes, “ - had to live with the thought that he’s the second-best.”
(three)
They’re older, not wiser.
“We’re at war.”
“Well, we missed the first one.”
They try joking as they used to, but the shadows grow upon them all, and even the lightest of hearts learn submission.
Now, they could.
Charlie is here, to fight. Tonks is free to choose.
They let it go; perhaps they’re overwhelmed by the possibility.
(four)
“I wish I could call him Charles.”
Tonks smiles ruefully, a protective hand on her swollen belly.
“How do you know he’s a boy?”
“My mother. She’s never wrong.”
They share an awkward silence. Charlie knows another story; he’d tell it; he thinks it fits.
“They married, these two. Another ancient king, and a pretty princess. Can you pull out golden braided hair?”
“Yes, of course. But why would I?”
“That’s right, you’d look silly.” (I’d still love you.) “And then there was this knight -“
“Who went to battle?”
“Among other things. Tonks -“
“I know.”
They look at each other, and there’s something more than longing, something beyond what was there between Tristan and Isolde while Mark was away growing a beard. They don’t even know their fingers entwine; it feels natural, like they’re one.
“Dora.”
-
Cleopatra, just as Guinevere, just as Isolde, died.
They were all unfaithful - is there such thing as poetic justice to punish love?
Charlie hugs himself, and leaves her grave. He has to rush home and see Teddy, and maybe tell him a story.
Recipient: cuban_sombrero
Title: Four Times Nymphadora Tonks Chose With Her Mind (And Not Her Heart)
Pairing: Nymphadora Tonks/Charlie Weasley, (implied) Nymphadora Tonks/Bill Weasley and Nymphadora Tonks/Remus Lupin
Rating: G
Word Count: 858
Summary: A series of flashbacks of Tonks’ friendship-that-was-so-much-more with Charlie; and the bitter, epilogue-compliant, ending.
Author’s Notes: Dear giftee, you asked for historical/literature references, so I decided to concentrate on that! At the beginning my intention wasn’t to turn everything in a puddle of sap, but in the end - I changed my mind. Enjoy!
(one)
“I’ll always be your second-best.”
Charlie laughs, but his mouth twists unpleasantly.
Of course she knows; just as well as she’s sure there’s no friend of hers more honest than him.
“Charles.” She likes it better. He likes it when she’s saying it, too, it sounds more like an adult’s name. “You’re being childish.”
He’s not. He’s never been. He always tried not to be.
“It’s difficult, Tonks.” (He’d call her Dora, but she might as well claw at his face if he dared.) “To grow up in Bill’s shadow, and then -“
She turns her back to him. It’s hard for her too, and mostly when she has to bear the look on his face, accusing her. Well, she didn’t betray him.
“It’s just a choice, it might change.” She tries laughing, but it fails her. “You know me.”
“Are you familiar with Muggle history?”
Tonks shrugs. Quite a great moment to change the subject.
“There was a queen once, they claim, and her beauty bore no comparison.” He’s too poetic, and he hates it. He’s reading too many books. “She was clever, too”, he tones down, “and she caught in the power of her charms none other than the greatest emperor that was.”
“Were they happy?”
“I can’t tell you. It wasn’t in the book.”
“And?”
Sensing her eagerness, Charlie feels better, and more secure. “There was another one… who loved her. Simpler. A man of fewer words. A warrior.”
“Did she make a choice?”
“She did.”
“What happened to the warrior?” guesses Tonks.
“He covered himself in glory in just as many victorious campaigns. And in the end - Tonks. I’m leaving.”
Still showing him her back, she nods, grimacing as something twists painfully inside her. “I thought so.”
-
Charlie doesn’t tell her how the story ended.
(two)
Tonks makes her decision abruptly, as she does everything in life. A few white lies, some excuses, and a touch of the pretense she’s mastering so greatly, and off she goes to visit Charlie in Romania. She’s been missing him. Things are uncertain with Bill.
“That’s all?”
Charlie had missed her tempestuous laughter. Her comment amuses him; he’s not at all bothered.
“It’s tiny, yes. And quite cold in the winter. Luckily, bans and restrictions concerning the use of magic aren’t very strict around here. I sure can find, err, alternate methods of starting a fire, should I need one. And plus, there’s the dragons. Quite enough to keep me warm.”
That, she can see. Although sturdily built, just like his twin brothers, Charlie’s limbs are sinewy while strong, and his movements seem more fluid and lighter. She chases away a glimpse of his arms on the small of her back, pressing gently, but firmly. It’s a social call.
“And how is my brother?”
“What, aren’t you guys talking?” She lands on the only available chair; a bit on the rickety side, it’ll still hold. “How was that, bros before hoes?”
“You’re not a hoe.” Charlie’s frown softens her, and she almost surrenders to a smile.
“Your brother and I -“
He’s the one who takes her in his arms, so much unlike in her earlier daydream. It’s comfort, and she was longing for it, this is her best friend, it feels like home in this godforsaken mountain shelter; inside, she’s longing for more.
“We always talk of Merlin” she murmurs, her mouth in his hair - he smells of winter. “We end up forgetting the others who were there.”
“Others?” (Don’t stop.) Charlie puts his head on her lap; he stops breathing.
“The ladies, the knights, the queen, the king, and that particular knight who -“ Tonks’ voice crashes, “ - had to live with the thought that he’s the second-best.”
(three)
They’re older, not wiser.
“We’re at war.”
“Well, we missed the first one.”
They try joking as they used to, but the shadows grow upon them all, and even the lightest of hearts learn submission.
Now, they could.
Charlie is here, to fight. Tonks is free to choose.
They let it go; perhaps they’re overwhelmed by the possibility.
(four)
“I wish I could call him Charles.”
Tonks smiles ruefully, a protective hand on her swollen belly.
“How do you know he’s a boy?”
“My mother. She’s never wrong.”
They share an awkward silence. Charlie knows another story; he’d tell it; he thinks it fits.
“They married, these two. Another ancient king, and a pretty princess. Can you pull out golden braided hair?”
“Yes, of course. But why would I?”
“That’s right, you’d look silly.” (I’d still love you.) “And then there was this knight -“
“Who went to battle?”
“Among other things. Tonks -“
“I know.”
They look at each other, and there’s something more than longing, something beyond what was there between Tristan and Isolde while Mark was away growing a beard. They don’t even know their fingers entwine; it feels natural, like they’re one.
“Dora.”
-
Cleopatra, just as Guinevere, just as Isolde, died.
They were all unfaithful - is there such thing as poetic justice to punish love?
Charlie hugs himself, and leaves her grave. He has to rush home and see Teddy, and maybe tell him a story.