Fic: To Drive the Cold Winter Away for Ghosttt
Title: To Drive the Cold Winter Away
Author/Artist: laroseminuit
Recipient: ghosttt
Rating: G
Contents or warnings (highlight to view): *none *
Word count:2,487
Summary: Containing the tale of two lovers, torn apart by youthful follies and divers duty, reunited in the heart of conflict so to prove that the flame of love once lit might ever be rekindled.
Notes: Well, Gen, you asked for an atypical historical AU and this will hopefully fit the bill. Many thanks to SallySparrow for some very helpful beta reading. All remaining clothing porn is my own fault.
Pownalborough, in the province of Maine, part of the Province of Massachusetts Bay, December 1777
Lieutenant Black of his Royal Majesty’s 17th Light Dragoons had seldom found himself so glad to see the lights of civilization appear out of the darkness before him. His mount’s breath steamed in the bitter air and her hooves rang sharply against the frozen mud of the road as she carried him out of the snow-muffled woods.
The remains of a palisade wall rose and then receded in his periphery as he came clattering into the bare yard that made up the frozen grounds of Pownalborough’s courthouse, tavern, and gaol. The sentry guards’ fire reflected off the evenly glassed windows and illuminated the plain front of the largest building; the wood still sharp edged and not yet worn down from harsh weather. Sirius used cover of the flickering shadows to remove a small narrow object from his bedroll and slide it into the sleeve of his coat, before handing the reins of his horse to a boy nearly faceless between the brim of his Monmouth cap and the swaddle of flannel pulled up over his chin. His flintlock was slung carelessly across his body; he clearly expected no threat from British or Indian foe on such a bitter December night. Eager to escape the frosty bite of the air, Sirius made haste toward the inviting warmth of the tavern.
There was a small mirror set by the stairs inside the door; a necessary luxury perhaps for judges visiting to hear cases in the second floor courtroom. Sirius used it to check that the glamour on his uniform remained intact - the red and white broadcloth of his regimental had transformed into a loose fitting great coat and ditto suit. The silver lace of his rank appeared as delicately worked embroidery on his waistcoat. The skull and crossbones which was the distinctive mark of his unit was whimsically referenced by neat rows of death’s head buttons. Satisfied his disguise would hold, he stepped through the door to the public room.
Inside it was thick with smoke and the smell of wet wool and burning pine, all overlaid by the sweet smell of hot wine which nearly distracted him from his task. Perhaps a dozen men clustered around small tables, a few playing at dice near the hearth, another group smoking pipes and engaged in conversation. A plain young woman in a brown woolen gown moved among them, refilling cups from a steaming pitcher. One man sat alone in the corner, nearly disappearing into the shadows except by the light of a single candle. He had a small volume in his hand and his face was tipped toward the pages, brow pulled down as he read. His frock coat was a deep green, nearly black in the dim light, with cuffs just slightly too wide and skirts just slightly too full for the current mode. His hair was brown, shot through with grey, and bound back neatly in a bag secured with a plain black ribbon which matched the black silk of his neck cloth.
Sirius adjusted the angle of his cap and twitched his shoulders to adjust the fall of his great coat before stepping close the man’s table and bowing.
“Pray excuse, dear sir, but have I the honor of addressing the associate of my good friend, Mr. Arras?”
There was something familiar about the set of the man’s shoulders.
“Indeed, sir, and a pleasure to meet you,” said the man, raising his head as he completed the countersign correctly. Sirius locked eyes with Remus Lupin for the first time in a decade and his reply died on his lips. A rapid blink was his old friend’s only concession to surprise as he gestured to an empty chair, continuing with barely a pause, “which is to say, to meet you again after so many a year. It was at Covent Garden we last spoke, if I am not mistaken? How time can change a man’s circumstances.”
Sirius settled into the chair, his pale face a mask as he remembered the day they parted. Sirius, drunk and angry and feeling powerless against the strictly defined future stretching out before him; Remus, cold and distant as he made his goodbyes and refused Sirius’s pleas to stay. Remus had sailed for America that evening while Sirius reported to take up his commission in the 17th. When Sirius had accepted this task, he had not known the true identity of his contact; but Dumbledore must have, and he silently swore to have words with the old glass-eyes when he returned to Philadelphia.
Remus signaled for a second cup of hot wine, which the young lady delivered to Sirius. She blushed prettily at him when he thanked her profusely, wrapping his icy fingers around the warm ceramic.
“Still flirting with anything in a skirt, Mr. Black?” Remus asked, “Best be careful, Rebecca is just recently wed to Captain Johnson, who I do not think would take kindly to a handsome stranger paying overmuch attention to his new wife. But pray tell, what business brings you to our provincial village, Mr. Black?”
Sirius adjusted his cuff, subtly letting the handle of his wand slide down into his palm. A quiet charm later and the sounds of the tavern around them grew quiet. If any curious soul were to listen in on their conversation all they would hear was a conversation about the weather.
“Remus, what are you doing here?” Sirius asked, as soon as their privacy was assured.
Remus arched a brow at him. “What am I doing here? This is my home, Sirius, or had you forgotten? What are you doing here? Last I heard, your regiment was in Philadelphia. I didn’t realize you were working for Dumbledore’s Order.”
Sirius warmed a bit to realize Remus kept track of his regiment’s whereabouts, and a hope he had long thought dead bloomed within him. He shook his head and explained, “There’s a wizarding corp attached to nearly every regiment. There is serious concern from the Ministry that the anti-secretists will try to use the political conflict to their own ends, although there’s little indication of any organized magical effort in Washington’s troops. We’re in winter quarters now, anyway, and the wizards in Burgoyne’s 16th can handle security in the city. Dumbledore got your message about the dark artifact you’ve found and sent me to retrieve it. But the whole country’s rotten with enemy agents and sympathizers. I would have thought you’d be living in one of the wizarding villages. It can’t be safe here by yourself with the muggles.”
“Safety is something of an illusion no matter where I am, as you well know. And the Statute of Secrecy is still so new, there are a lot of witches and wizards here who still have ties with the local muggle communities. Most of them just want to live quietly, and I don’t think there is any strong local anti-secretist presence. There is a wizard village at Swango, now - Swan’s Island to the muggles, just a little down the river. I am welcome there well enough to visit but it’s best for everyone that I keep myself and my particular afflictions apart. And speaking of afflictions,” he paused and withdrew a small and unassuming box from his pocket and placed it on the table. Sirius shivered as if there had been a sudden draft, but the candle remained steady and unflickering. “I obtained this from a French witch living with the Abenaki community near Norridgewock. They’ve had it since Father Rale’s time - oral history says the men who slaughtered the settlement in twenty-four brought it; and my own research suggests it may have been involved in the several other attacks before then. By all accounts, it exposes magic users while dampening their ability to do magic. She wanted it destroyed but she wasn’t able to do it on her own. I agreed to take it, but the best I could do was contain it in that box.You can still feel the dark magic, can’t you?”
Sirius gave a stiff nod, gingerly lifting the box and placing it in his own pocket. “You’re absolutely correct, we can’t risk the anti-secrecy movement getting their hands on this. It’s safer now for wizards than it’s ever been, hiding in plain sight since the secrecy statute went into effect.” He said, rubbing at his chin tiredly. It had been a hard ride to get here, and the dark nature of this trip coupled with resurfaced feelings did little to bolster him against the fatigue that nipped at the edges of his mind. He sighed heavily. “With this, they’d be able to set up any witch or wizard they targeted to attack. I’ll get it to Philadelphia; we’ve got an international floo connection set up. It will be safe in the confines of the Department of Mysteries by the end of the month.”
They sat in silence a moment, eyes not quite meeting but never straying far from each other. With their business concluded, both seemed reluctant to part ways again without further conversation. Remus picked up his tankard and swirled the liquid within before taking a sip. When he spoke, he still did not meet Sirius’s eyes. “You don’t seem as eager to be gone as I suspected you would be, if we were to meet again.”
Sirius scowled into his own cup. “What do you mean by that?”
“We didn’t part on good terms,” Remus grimaced. “I said some terrible things to you.”
“As I recall, you told me I was an indolent wastrel who would come to no good end, probably in a back alley off Drury Lane. You said I was wasting every last measure of my good fortune and privilege.” Sirius sighed and stretched out his legs, examining the way the candlelight glinted off the paste stones of his shoe buckles.
“You weren’t entirely incorrect, Remus, and I’ve had long years to reflect on my own misdeeds. I used you cruelly, friend.”
Remus opened his mouth to argue but Sirius flapped a hand to silence him. “I was a fool. A young fool, in love with glamour and seduced by idle pleasures. For all my upbringing should have taught me duty, I had no discipline. And for all I claimed to not care what the world thought of me, I cared too much for the opinions of strangers and too little for those of my friends.”
He leaned toward the table and lay his hand down, close but not quite touching Remus’s. “You told me you were leaving and I was afraid to follow. I wanted you to stay and rejected you when you would not.”
Remus’s fidgeting stilled, and after a heartbeat of silence he reached out and covered Sirius’s hand with his own. “I would have given anything to be able to stay, but you know it was impossible. Dumbledore had already moved heaven and earth to get me permission to attend Hogwarts; there was no question of allowing a werewolf to stay in England for longer than his schooling required.”
Remes turned to peer out into the darkness beyond the frost-rimed windows. “I have done well here at home. All our time spent making that map turns out to have not been a waste at all - I have a steady income from my work as a surveyor, and I’m working on a volume for the Royal Wizard Academy on the local magical flora and fauna. There’s space and wilderness enough even here that I have what privacy I need. But it has been lonely.” His eyes found Sirius’s again. “I have missed you.” His eyes dropped, sweeping over Sirius is slow appreciation. “You cut as fine a figure as ever.”
Sirius grinned, feeling a warmth spread throughout himself that had little to do with the tavern’s fire. “It feels like ages since I’ve had the chance to wear anything but my regimental coat.”
“As dashing as I imagine that must be, wise of you to not to come here in the King’s colors. This is a patriot stronghold. My frequent illness has excused me from the pressures of the recruiting parties, but I’ve had to swear a test oath and the local committee of safety has me under investigation.” He nodded to the trio of men smoking pipes. “In fact, we should not linger too long. This charm only disguises our conversation; they’ll be quite suspicious if we sit here and talk about nothing but the weather for an evening.”
Remus gestured at the snowflakes beginning to gather on the glass. “The hour is late; the weather is turning. Would you care to spend the night at my home? It’s just a couple miles south of here, on the edge of Merrymeeting Bay. It’s not much, but there’s a warm fire and the bed is well-sprung. You can cross over to directly to Swango in the morning, across the ice. It should be solid by then, and you can get a port-key to take you back to Philadelphia.”
“I accept your offer. As pleasant a tavern this may be, I am not sure I quite trust the available accommodation. And my apologies, but I arrived by horse, so apparition would be difficult.”
Remus smiled fondly as he stood. “Still such a little lordling. I would have thought your years with the death and glory boys would have accustomed you to simple living and slow travel.”
Sirius barked a laugh as they made their way out into the cold night. “To be fair, we have had our share of glorious living and are only now beginning to be acquainted to the hazards of war - camp beds and slow marches among them.” He turned a rakish grin onto his companion, feeling a spike of joy he had not felt since they were last together. “But not even a bed of silk and down could tempt me away from yours - it will be hard enough leaving in the morning.”
Remus appeared to wrestle with himself a moment, biting his lip and humming lowly, before he said, “There is perhaps some business I should attend to in New York. Rumors of trafficking in dark creatures in the Holy Ground, you know; it bears investigation sooner rather than later. It would be an easier trip from Philadelphia. And then, perhaps, some time in the Philadelphia library would not be amiss. Research for my book, you understand.”
Sirius spun on his heel to face his oldest and dearest friend, overwhelmed with delight. “I would like nothing better than your company, for as long as you’ll have me.”
In the darkness of the yard’s shadows, Remus embraced Sirius. “Then as I promised you, years ago, I am yours forever.”
Together, they rode out of the yard and turned south along the road. The snow fell lightly around them and they disappeared into the darkness.
Author/Artist: laroseminuit
Recipient: ghosttt
Rating: G
Contents or warnings (highlight to view): *none *
Word count:2,487
Summary: Containing the tale of two lovers, torn apart by youthful follies and divers duty, reunited in the heart of conflict so to prove that the flame of love once lit might ever be rekindled.
Notes: Well, Gen, you asked for an atypical historical AU and this will hopefully fit the bill. Many thanks to SallySparrow for some very helpful beta reading. All remaining clothing porn is my own fault.
Pownalborough, in the province of Maine, part of the Province of Massachusetts Bay, December 1777
Lieutenant Black of his Royal Majesty’s 17th Light Dragoons had seldom found himself so glad to see the lights of civilization appear out of the darkness before him. His mount’s breath steamed in the bitter air and her hooves rang sharply against the frozen mud of the road as she carried him out of the snow-muffled woods.
The remains of a palisade wall rose and then receded in his periphery as he came clattering into the bare yard that made up the frozen grounds of Pownalborough’s courthouse, tavern, and gaol. The sentry guards’ fire reflected off the evenly glassed windows and illuminated the plain front of the largest building; the wood still sharp edged and not yet worn down from harsh weather. Sirius used cover of the flickering shadows to remove a small narrow object from his bedroll and slide it into the sleeve of his coat, before handing the reins of his horse to a boy nearly faceless between the brim of his Monmouth cap and the swaddle of flannel pulled up over his chin. His flintlock was slung carelessly across his body; he clearly expected no threat from British or Indian foe on such a bitter December night. Eager to escape the frosty bite of the air, Sirius made haste toward the inviting warmth of the tavern.
There was a small mirror set by the stairs inside the door; a necessary luxury perhaps for judges visiting to hear cases in the second floor courtroom. Sirius used it to check that the glamour on his uniform remained intact - the red and white broadcloth of his regimental had transformed into a loose fitting great coat and ditto suit. The silver lace of his rank appeared as delicately worked embroidery on his waistcoat. The skull and crossbones which was the distinctive mark of his unit was whimsically referenced by neat rows of death’s head buttons. Satisfied his disguise would hold, he stepped through the door to the public room.
Inside it was thick with smoke and the smell of wet wool and burning pine, all overlaid by the sweet smell of hot wine which nearly distracted him from his task. Perhaps a dozen men clustered around small tables, a few playing at dice near the hearth, another group smoking pipes and engaged in conversation. A plain young woman in a brown woolen gown moved among them, refilling cups from a steaming pitcher. One man sat alone in the corner, nearly disappearing into the shadows except by the light of a single candle. He had a small volume in his hand and his face was tipped toward the pages, brow pulled down as he read. His frock coat was a deep green, nearly black in the dim light, with cuffs just slightly too wide and skirts just slightly too full for the current mode. His hair was brown, shot through with grey, and bound back neatly in a bag secured with a plain black ribbon which matched the black silk of his neck cloth.
Sirius adjusted the angle of his cap and twitched his shoulders to adjust the fall of his great coat before stepping close the man’s table and bowing.
“Pray excuse, dear sir, but have I the honor of addressing the associate of my good friend, Mr. Arras?”
There was something familiar about the set of the man’s shoulders.
“Indeed, sir, and a pleasure to meet you,” said the man, raising his head as he completed the countersign correctly. Sirius locked eyes with Remus Lupin for the first time in a decade and his reply died on his lips. A rapid blink was his old friend’s only concession to surprise as he gestured to an empty chair, continuing with barely a pause, “which is to say, to meet you again after so many a year. It was at Covent Garden we last spoke, if I am not mistaken? How time can change a man’s circumstances.”
Sirius settled into the chair, his pale face a mask as he remembered the day they parted. Sirius, drunk and angry and feeling powerless against the strictly defined future stretching out before him; Remus, cold and distant as he made his goodbyes and refused Sirius’s pleas to stay. Remus had sailed for America that evening while Sirius reported to take up his commission in the 17th. When Sirius had accepted this task, he had not known the true identity of his contact; but Dumbledore must have, and he silently swore to have words with the old glass-eyes when he returned to Philadelphia.
Remus signaled for a second cup of hot wine, which the young lady delivered to Sirius. She blushed prettily at him when he thanked her profusely, wrapping his icy fingers around the warm ceramic.
“Still flirting with anything in a skirt, Mr. Black?” Remus asked, “Best be careful, Rebecca is just recently wed to Captain Johnson, who I do not think would take kindly to a handsome stranger paying overmuch attention to his new wife. But pray tell, what business brings you to our provincial village, Mr. Black?”
Sirius adjusted his cuff, subtly letting the handle of his wand slide down into his palm. A quiet charm later and the sounds of the tavern around them grew quiet. If any curious soul were to listen in on their conversation all they would hear was a conversation about the weather.
“Remus, what are you doing here?” Sirius asked, as soon as their privacy was assured.
Remus arched a brow at him. “What am I doing here? This is my home, Sirius, or had you forgotten? What are you doing here? Last I heard, your regiment was in Philadelphia. I didn’t realize you were working for Dumbledore’s Order.”
Sirius warmed a bit to realize Remus kept track of his regiment’s whereabouts, and a hope he had long thought dead bloomed within him. He shook his head and explained, “There’s a wizarding corp attached to nearly every regiment. There is serious concern from the Ministry that the anti-secretists will try to use the political conflict to their own ends, although there’s little indication of any organized magical effort in Washington’s troops. We’re in winter quarters now, anyway, and the wizards in Burgoyne’s 16th can handle security in the city. Dumbledore got your message about the dark artifact you’ve found and sent me to retrieve it. But the whole country’s rotten with enemy agents and sympathizers. I would have thought you’d be living in one of the wizarding villages. It can’t be safe here by yourself with the muggles.”
“Safety is something of an illusion no matter where I am, as you well know. And the Statute of Secrecy is still so new, there are a lot of witches and wizards here who still have ties with the local muggle communities. Most of them just want to live quietly, and I don’t think there is any strong local anti-secretist presence. There is a wizard village at Swango, now - Swan’s Island to the muggles, just a little down the river. I am welcome there well enough to visit but it’s best for everyone that I keep myself and my particular afflictions apart. And speaking of afflictions,” he paused and withdrew a small and unassuming box from his pocket and placed it on the table. Sirius shivered as if there had been a sudden draft, but the candle remained steady and unflickering. “I obtained this from a French witch living with the Abenaki community near Norridgewock. They’ve had it since Father Rale’s time - oral history says the men who slaughtered the settlement in twenty-four brought it; and my own research suggests it may have been involved in the several other attacks before then. By all accounts, it exposes magic users while dampening their ability to do magic. She wanted it destroyed but she wasn’t able to do it on her own. I agreed to take it, but the best I could do was contain it in that box.You can still feel the dark magic, can’t you?”
Sirius gave a stiff nod, gingerly lifting the box and placing it in his own pocket. “You’re absolutely correct, we can’t risk the anti-secrecy movement getting their hands on this. It’s safer now for wizards than it’s ever been, hiding in plain sight since the secrecy statute went into effect.” He said, rubbing at his chin tiredly. It had been a hard ride to get here, and the dark nature of this trip coupled with resurfaced feelings did little to bolster him against the fatigue that nipped at the edges of his mind. He sighed heavily. “With this, they’d be able to set up any witch or wizard they targeted to attack. I’ll get it to Philadelphia; we’ve got an international floo connection set up. It will be safe in the confines of the Department of Mysteries by the end of the month.”
They sat in silence a moment, eyes not quite meeting but never straying far from each other. With their business concluded, both seemed reluctant to part ways again without further conversation. Remus picked up his tankard and swirled the liquid within before taking a sip. When he spoke, he still did not meet Sirius’s eyes. “You don’t seem as eager to be gone as I suspected you would be, if we were to meet again.”
Sirius scowled into his own cup. “What do you mean by that?”
“We didn’t part on good terms,” Remus grimaced. “I said some terrible things to you.”
“As I recall, you told me I was an indolent wastrel who would come to no good end, probably in a back alley off Drury Lane. You said I was wasting every last measure of my good fortune and privilege.” Sirius sighed and stretched out his legs, examining the way the candlelight glinted off the paste stones of his shoe buckles.
“You weren’t entirely incorrect, Remus, and I’ve had long years to reflect on my own misdeeds. I used you cruelly, friend.”
Remus opened his mouth to argue but Sirius flapped a hand to silence him. “I was a fool. A young fool, in love with glamour and seduced by idle pleasures. For all my upbringing should have taught me duty, I had no discipline. And for all I claimed to not care what the world thought of me, I cared too much for the opinions of strangers and too little for those of my friends.”
He leaned toward the table and lay his hand down, close but not quite touching Remus’s. “You told me you were leaving and I was afraid to follow. I wanted you to stay and rejected you when you would not.”
Remus’s fidgeting stilled, and after a heartbeat of silence he reached out and covered Sirius’s hand with his own. “I would have given anything to be able to stay, but you know it was impossible. Dumbledore had already moved heaven and earth to get me permission to attend Hogwarts; there was no question of allowing a werewolf to stay in England for longer than his schooling required.”
Remes turned to peer out into the darkness beyond the frost-rimed windows. “I have done well here at home. All our time spent making that map turns out to have not been a waste at all - I have a steady income from my work as a surveyor, and I’m working on a volume for the Royal Wizard Academy on the local magical flora and fauna. There’s space and wilderness enough even here that I have what privacy I need. But it has been lonely.” His eyes found Sirius’s again. “I have missed you.” His eyes dropped, sweeping over Sirius is slow appreciation. “You cut as fine a figure as ever.”
Sirius grinned, feeling a warmth spread throughout himself that had little to do with the tavern’s fire. “It feels like ages since I’ve had the chance to wear anything but my regimental coat.”
“As dashing as I imagine that must be, wise of you to not to come here in the King’s colors. This is a patriot stronghold. My frequent illness has excused me from the pressures of the recruiting parties, but I’ve had to swear a test oath and the local committee of safety has me under investigation.” He nodded to the trio of men smoking pipes. “In fact, we should not linger too long. This charm only disguises our conversation; they’ll be quite suspicious if we sit here and talk about nothing but the weather for an evening.”
Remus gestured at the snowflakes beginning to gather on the glass. “The hour is late; the weather is turning. Would you care to spend the night at my home? It’s just a couple miles south of here, on the edge of Merrymeeting Bay. It’s not much, but there’s a warm fire and the bed is well-sprung. You can cross over to directly to Swango in the morning, across the ice. It should be solid by then, and you can get a port-key to take you back to Philadelphia.”
“I accept your offer. As pleasant a tavern this may be, I am not sure I quite trust the available accommodation. And my apologies, but I arrived by horse, so apparition would be difficult.”
Remus smiled fondly as he stood. “Still such a little lordling. I would have thought your years with the death and glory boys would have accustomed you to simple living and slow travel.”
Sirius barked a laugh as they made their way out into the cold night. “To be fair, we have had our share of glorious living and are only now beginning to be acquainted to the hazards of war - camp beds and slow marches among them.” He turned a rakish grin onto his companion, feeling a spike of joy he had not felt since they were last together. “But not even a bed of silk and down could tempt me away from yours - it will be hard enough leaving in the morning.”
Remus appeared to wrestle with himself a moment, biting his lip and humming lowly, before he said, “There is perhaps some business I should attend to in New York. Rumors of trafficking in dark creatures in the Holy Ground, you know; it bears investigation sooner rather than later. It would be an easier trip from Philadelphia. And then, perhaps, some time in the Philadelphia library would not be amiss. Research for my book, you understand.”
Sirius spun on his heel to face his oldest and dearest friend, overwhelmed with delight. “I would like nothing better than your company, for as long as you’ll have me.”
In the darkness of the yard’s shadows, Remus embraced Sirius. “Then as I promised you, years ago, I am yours forever.”
Together, they rode out of the yard and turned south along the road. The snow fell lightly around them and they disappeared into the darkness.