Summary: What will did it take for Remus and Tonks to become lovers?
NYMPHATIC
DREAMS
Nymph
vs Wolf: True Colors
January
16
Grimmauld
Place
It has been an eventful new year with the escape of the Death Eaters from Azkaban. I haven't seen Tonks in days now, yet I wasn't too surprised to find her at Order headquarters in the early hours of a new day. She had her duffel bag in one hand and her vorpal bunny in the other.
Tonks could have just sent a note and I would have picked up Wimples, but instead she comes to Grimmauld Place. And I'm not so dim-witted that I fail to understand she wants to spend her last moments before her mission with me. She'll have to face Dementors, those soul-sucking ghouls that are no allies to the Ministry. As far as I'm concerned, they stay at Azkaban for their own sick reasons. My heart constricts at the thought of my lovely nymph being around them, but I have no words that would fortify her spirit--at least, none that would be fair to voice.
Sirius urges me to not make things complicated, to simply make sure that Tonks leaves here with a memory that will reinforce her ability to conjure a Patronus. "It's not the act, it's the intimacy, understand?"
Of course I understand that! I'm a scholar so I know that sex as a memory couldn't fuel a proper Patronus any more than the exhilaration of flying on a broomstick could. But the feeling of being loved, rather than the moment of lust, is a powerful emotion that can safeguard you from despair. And, yes, I also understand that it isn't some perverted voyeurism that motivates Sirius, but a need to make sure that his little cousin can protect herself from Dementors.
Furthermore, Sirius knows that I couldn't make love to her if I didn't first love Nymphadora Tonks. I suppose it is rather simple.
Then why do I feel so awkward as I stand by her, trying to make up my mind about what to do? Tonks asks nothing of me; that would make it easier, but she doesn't say a word. I just take her hand in mine and lead her up the stairs to my room in silence.
I close the door and notice she's moving self-consciously as she lets her duffel fall to the floor, but then she turns to look at me and her eyes tell me everything. They hold warmth, desire, love, and a very urgent need. She needs no grace for seduction, just the intensity of her gaze.
I feel like that gangly schoolboy of my Hogwarts' days as I move to her while I try to decide whether to pursue this. Regardless, I know I need to touch her, for both her sake and mine, so my hand reaches out to unclasp her cloak before my arms draw her to me. I feel the tension dissolve from our bodies as we give in to the warm embrace. This is my one truth at this moment: we belong.
And the right thing to do to acknowledge this truth is a kiss, one that serves as a soulful salute to our connection. The kiss is effective in dissipating the doubts I have. We sleep together regularly, in fact, I find it difficult to slumber without her by my side now. We touch each other most intimately and with great trust, sharing what pleasure we can in each other's body.
But to make love to Tonks means I would be taking her virginity, although I am no more experienced than she. This is unfair, isn't it? I will be walking away from her when our three dates are finished and Nymphadora Tonks will become nothing more than a nymphatic dream again. I imagine how painful it would be--or would it be worse to wonder?
I look deeply into her eyes, then my forehead falls against hers. She needs to understand the limits.
"I--you--Tonks, if we do this, it's not because it's the promise of a future."
"Can't we just forget who we are and just give in to what we are? Just a man with a woman?" she whispers.
"That's all it can be," I emphasize as I cup that beautiful face with my hands. I cannot lie to her and I will not not say the words that express my true feelings--but do I need to?
"That's all I need right now," she assures before she drags my head down for a tender kiss. Odd that at this moment, the gentle pressure is more effective than a passionate kiss would be to seal my fate.
We are not driven by insatiable lust, we're not drunk off our asrse and unaware of what we're doing. No, we've come to a decision and we make the gift to each other freely--and perhaps that's the most important part of this coupling. We offer each other love without conditions.
I lean her back against the bed as I decide to finally deepen the kiss. Feeling her firm, young body under me fuels my desire and again I wonder why she bothers with an old man like me. I lean on my elbow and just look at her for a moment before my fingers begin to unbutton her Oxford. My mouth falls to taste her flesh as it is revealed and I don't stop until my nymph lies naked on my bed.
But she has not been idle, either, as I feel her shove aside the shirt of my pajamas and tug on my waistband. For a moment we just share an embrace as we touch the familiar territory of each other's body. Scars meet satin skin, gentle fingers stroke through grey-streaked hair, her womanly softness presses against my hardened manhood. We are a contrast of features, yet we suit each other perfectly.
I press my hand against her belly and look at her for a moment. She smiles wistfully before saying, "You know, Pomfrey thinks that, well, that I'm likely to be barren because of--A metamorphmagus is hard to impregnate."
Her words are a surprise, but I understand the reasoning. Still, given the dreams I've had of late where Tonks and I have children, I do not doubt my seed would grow in her. Perhaps it's just male arrogance or perhaps its a lupine legacy that makes me think this.
"Pomfrey has been wrong before," I say. This time her smile brightens and we chant the contraceptive spell together.
I fear I have grown addicted to her taste, so my mouth explores her body at leisure knowing that it is important this time that she be relaxed. And she could always change her mind about this ultimate act. But as her ecstatic moans fade, my head now rests at her breast and I can feel her heart racing.
"Yes?" I don't need to voice the question further.
Her hands tangle in my hair and she whispers, "Yes."
So now it's up to me to consummate our relationship, but am I ready for this? I can feel my breath quickening at the thought of entering her. Merlin, what the hell should I do now? One quick thrust? Or should it be slow? She's become accustomed to the probing sensations and there will be no maidenhead given Tonks' active lifestyle, but I'm still afraid I will hurt her. Or what if I spill immediately at the new sensation and offer her nothing for her trouble?
I bide my time by kissing her breasts and attacking her throat for a moment when I feel her shifting under me. Her hips tilt, I feel one of her hands caressing my own hip while the other captures me. I feel myself harden further at these signs that she wants me inside her.
And my fears evaporate when she whispers, "I love you."
Our bodies meet with an intimate connection, both of us pushing forward. There's no turning back now and this new stimulation is--to hell with anything else! The warm pressure that surrounds me is so strong and I lose myself in a few thrusts before I think to ask, "Are you all right?"
Oh, what a gentleman. I'm asking about her comfort without ceasing my movements. The primitive rhythm my body wants is overwhelming, so I force myself hold still for a moment and not abuse the woman I love.
"Yes," she sighs. "You're just--not slender-- like your fingers. I mean--"
I stop her rambling with a kiss and feel her legs relax which means I can--
I am lost to thought as I let desire direct my movements; it's like riding a wave. And that's exactly what I feel like: the sea that crashes against the Wolf Rock lighthouse, the water receding only to flow again with full force until the sea spray covers all.
My mind can only contain one thought: I love you. But it is something I only allow my body to express as I spill into my nymph.
"Nymphadora." I can only murmur her name and barely have the sense to hold my weight off of her.
"I love you, Remus." Those are the last words I hear as my mind finally floats away.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - .
March
21
Heidelberg
Something is being dumped down my throat, but I have to swallow because someone is pinching my nose. What the?
Choke. Gasp. Cough.
"Ooooooooooh." I'm surprised I got any word out. Head. Hurts. Baaad. Then I feel a sharp whack of a wand on my forehead and while it leaves a sting, the headache is relieved. I lean forward to cup my head and mumble, "Where are we?"
"Still in Heidelberg."
Tonks' voice. Good--or maybe not. Vague images of the past few days arise. Tonks came back to me after being gone for two months, but our second date was to attend a wedding in Heidelberg. Unfortunately, my bloodline has ruined our reunion. I move my hands away but keep my eyes closed in disgust as I memories flit through my mind.
"Who are you?" Tonks' voice again, but this time there's an edge to her tone. I open my eyes and find her wand pointing at my throat. I have no doubt that she's mastered control over the asphyxiation spell that could either rend me unconscious or lifeless.
I gingerly put my head back on the pillow to show that I place myself at her mercy before answering her question But what exactly do I say? "I am now myself."
"Now?" The wand presses at my throat as she asks an important question, "Imperio?"
I blink as my fuzzy mind finally understands that would be the most logical conclusion. But will the truth be any worse? Still, she deserves an explanation and it would do the Order no good for me to pretend I was under an Imperus. "No, not imperio, but Lyonesse."
Tonks moves the wand away and bites her lip. "Muggles call it channeling."
"Yes," I agree, feeling somewhat relieved she didn't refer to it as possession. I close my eyes and force an explanation. "The price I pay for the healing power of Lyonesse is to host the spirit of my ancestors for a time. The year's dues are paid at the Spring equinox."
I open my eyes and look at her warily. She has a pensive expression on her face, but instead of castigating me as a freak, she merely asks another question. "How many spirits can take over?"
"Only one at a time, but--" I hesitate as I try to explain. My ancestors range from Scholars to Scamps to outright devils. "So far it hasn't been any of the, well, the evil ones."
I see her eyes soften and think she's going to gently explain why this is too much for her to handle. She threads her hand through mine, though. "Are you all right now or will, will the Scholar or the Scamp be back?"
I smile and tighten our clasped hands. Tonks reads me so well and her ability to accept all of my secrets is a blessing I don't deserve. "It's funny you should call them that; that's how I've always labeled them."
I exhale slowly and offer my best guess. "This was the earliest this has happened. Typically it's just a day, just the equinox, but that's why the cell was built into Wolf Rock. If necessary, one could always spend the day safely locked away. What's harder is coming back, but I've gotten better at it over the years."
"So this year you had to pay the price for surviving the silver screening and for saving Arthur's life." Tonks nods to herself before adding, "You don't like giving up control, do you? So you develop fastidious habits and curb your emotions."
"The first time the Scholar showed up, I was just as scared as on the full moon. It would take me a week to find my way back, but as I got older, I gained more self-control. By the time I got to Hogwarts, it was just a few days after the vernal equinox that I lost. By the time I graduated, I could deal with the Scholar in a day. But then the other began showing up, the Scamp."
Tonks averts her gaze and a blush appears as she asks a predictable question given the Scamp's proclivities for trying to seduce women. "So, was, er, am I really your first?"
"As much as I was yours," I reply as I reach out to touch her precious face. In the years I dealt with the Scamp, I managed to avoid his plans regarding women of easy virtue by either regaining control or making sure the body was passed out drunk. "I don't know why the Scamp keeps coming back. I always wind up frustrating his plans."
She laughs before agreeing. "He's a rather distractable fellow."
"Ah, yes, the Guiness. The Scamp does like his brew."
"And I thought the Blacks had an interesting bloodline."
Bloodlines and curses, yes, I am a remarkable man for carrying around so many demons. My voice becomes harsh as I say, "It's not just the lycanthropy that makes me a freak, so that's why I never told Sirius or the others about Lyonesse."
"Remus! Don't you--you saved others from the torture of silver screening. You saved Arthur's life! You're no more a freak than I am." Despite her strong insistence, her shoulders slump "But I guess people have been calling me a freak all my life, too."
"Nymphadora, you're a woman of unique talent and I am truly sorry for anything they said, anything they did, that hurt you."
A soft laugh falls from her lips. "I thought you had decided to push me away again. They were doing a good job of not being you."
"I promised you three dates." What more can I say? I fully expect our relationship to end, but I also intend to see it through unless she decides she's had enough. Nymphadora needs to know that she's not the one with the problems.
We remain silent and it gives me time to really look at her. She returned from her assignment at Azkaban just days ago and our recent adventures have given her nothing but trouble. I can see the dark circles under her eyes. "You look tired. I'm sorry, you should have been relaxing and resting."
"It's not all about you. I really don't care to be used like Gretchen's watchdog. Bill will make sure Otto makes it to his wedding."
Yes, that's right. The bride, Gretchen, was using Tonks to police the wedding party and make sure her groom, Otto, behaves. I think Bill Weasley, the best man, is up to the task, although he did have to dodge that brazen bridesmaid if I remember.
Tonks suddenly giggles, so I ask, "What is it?"
"Fleur, she," and here Tonks bursts into laughter. Once she sobers, she explains, "Fleur managed to, uh, accidentally cast a spell on Heidi, the maid of honor? You know the one that kept trying to snog Bill? Or do you remember anything?"
"It's fuzzy, but I seem to recall a statuesque blonde dressed in green," I say, actually relieved that the details I recalled were real.
"That's the one. Well, last night after we got in, Fleur zapped her legs boneless by mistake. She caught Heidi trying to steal into Bill's hotel room and assumed it was a thief."
"It sounds like a very deliberate mistake," I observe. I make a note to myself to stay on the good side of the Beauxbatons Triwizard Champion.
"I thought Fleur showed a lot of restraint. Heidi looked rather silly flopping around on the floor, but it's nothing that Skele-gro won't fix. The point is that Fleur felt obliged to take her place in the wedding party and Gretchen readily agreed to use Fleur as a proxy. I think Gretchen was worried Heidi would go after Otto next."
"Ah, so what exactly are you saying?"
"I'm saying, Professor, that I'd rather spend the next few days," she begins as she traces the buttons of my shirt, "recovering at Wolf Rock."
It sounds like a heavenly venture, but then I remember her vorpal bunny now back at her flat. "But, Wimples--"
"Fleur and Bill will check in on him for me," assures Tonks.
"I ruined our date and I wasn't even trying to this time." I sigh as I realize that there's no need to deliberately try to muck up this thing with Tonk; fate will intervene accordingly.
"I know, but we did tour Heidelberg and go to a pub. And we still have St. Mungo's ball," reminds Tonks. "So, do we go to Wolf Rock?"
"Yes." What else can I say seeing as how she's got me trapped beneath her body now? Not that I'm really complaining.
"And do I get a ride on the skiff?" She kisses my left cheek and nuzzles my ear.
"Oh, yes." I'm liable to agree to anything at this point.
"And a dip in the hot springs?" She kisses my right cheek and nibbles on that ear.
"It's been a while since they were visited by a water nymph." I cup her face and kiss her lips properly before releasing her. "Now let me get up so we can go."
Tonks moves off me and is bouncing on her knees on the bed. "Good, because I've yet to be welcomed home properly."
I'm sitting up now and turn to look at her. We had no time for anything but kisses before the Scholar took over my body. She leans forward and kisses me passionately. I have no doubts that we are both yearning for the same sign of welcome.
And in a few hours we're taking the skiff back up to the lighthouse at Wolf Rock. Again, I've left off the canopy at Tonks' insistence, but we're both drenched from the ocean spray and laughing when we get to the entry of my house.
She stumbles a bit as she steps out of the skiff and when I catch her, she merely turns it into an opportunity for a kiss. "Mm, salty."
I pull back. "Then let's get you out of those clothes and into the shower."
"Remus Lupin! Do you have lascivious intentions?" she asks with mock concern.
I take a moment to trace the form of her breasts clearly outlined by the wet shirt she wears. "Absolutely."
"It's about time," she yells as she dashes off ahead of me to the door.
So I'm left to carry our bags and then practically trip on her clothing on the way down to the floor that holds my bedroom. I gather the wet items with a point of my wand and send them up to the parlor to dry by the fire.
I finally enter my bedroom and toss the bags to the floor when I hear her singing in the shower. I recognize the old Muggle song about singing in the rain and smile at the memories it brings, but we've come a long way from splashing through puddles on a rainy day.
"Remus?"
"I'll be right there." I'm saying this as I'm shedding my clothes. I make the mistake of stepping into the shower and preventing her fall by grabbing her around the waist.
The shriek pierces my eardrum, but the ensuing giggles assure me that she's merely ticklish in a very squirmy, soapy sort of way.
"At least I won't need to lather up," I murmur as she finally settles down. She just throws a grin at me before leaving a dollop of soap on my nose.
"There, you should be all clean," she teases.
I just turn my head into the faucet to remove the residue while she steps out of the shower and grabs a thick towel. I give into my evil compulsion and shake the water out of my hair. Ah, the advantages of height.
"It's a rainstorm!" she complains before she tries to snap the towel at me.
But I just grab the edge of the towel and roll it around my arm, effectively bringing her toward me. I bend to kiss her, but when I move to her neck water droplets are still present.
So being the gentleman that I am, I rub the towel across her body. My hand moves the plush terry cloth across her breasts. So beautiful. I sit on the edge of the tub so that I can reach them and soon my mouth replaces the towel as her bring her body between my knees.
She brings an edge of the towel to rub through my hair, but she turns even that maneuver into a caress. My hand roams along her curves and feel the goose bumps on her skin. The towel is lying across her belly and I take the edge to make sure the water droplets are absorbed so she will be warm.
She drops her end of the towel so that she can caress my back while I still suckle her. I catch the towel against our bodies before it falls to the floor and decide to rub the soft fabric to dry her thighs. The low moan of pleasure that she emits provokes me to tease her, though.
The towel is soft and cushions the pressure from my nuckles as my hand finds its way to her desire. Her pelvis reciprocates the pressure and focus my attention to bringing her to bliss. My lovely nymph seems to suddenly melt against me.
"More." That's all she says as her lips are at my ear, nibbling gently.
I put my hand on her stomach and we whisper the charm before I pick her up and carry her to my bed. She lies there as the incarnation of my fantasies. My friend, my lover, the only woman I could take to wife. And in the ancient dwelling of my ancestors, I let myself believe that would be possible.
And so I enter her as a groom would his bride, with the thought of cherishing this woman for the rest of my life. But I know this will be just another memory in a few months. Still, I kiss her deeply before I lose sight of anything but the need to spill into her. I want to maximize her pleasure, but my need is too urgent right now to follow through this time. So I let my body work automatically and try to keep my enthusiasm in check. The tight pressure is my only focus, the evidence that my lovely nymph is not a dream, but my own woman.
It is a wonderful thing that nature gave us, this intimate physical act. And what separates us from the rutting animals? This ability to use the act as an expression of love, just as it should be.
- - - - - -
I'm laying with my head on Remus' chest while his arms embrace me. I can see the beginnings of daylight filtering in through the window. I love this old lighthouse with its infinite stairs, creaking joints, fractured walls and centuries of history. Because in all of its flaws, Wolf Rock still offers a sense of eternal security, much like the man who owns it.
I cling to him tightly for a moment with my knee bent around his body, the inner thigh rubbing along his pelvis. Hm? I've been too worried about the coupling to understand where to discover all the pleasures in this new sensation. The way he fills me gives me a unique stimulation, but it is all so new and I haven't focused on all the sources of pleasure.
But I'm being greedy or--Oh, no! Has losing my virginity turned me into a sex-crazed slut? And the thought sounds so ridiculous that I chuckle softly. No, I only want Remus and who could blame me for my curiosity? We've lead celibate lives, so it's little wonder that our initial curiosity is unsatiable.
So I begin kissing his body, nice gentle kisses as I follow the line of fine hair down his belly. I feel him stirring, but not waking yet. And I know one of Remus' secret pleasures, I think as I lick my lips. I capture him fully and have to smile when it takes so little effort to get a response.
"Nymphadora?"
His voice is very husky and I wonder if he thinks he's dreaming. His hand is searching for my body and soon finds my hip since my legs are toward his head. I adjust my body for his access and say, "Just playing."
I hear a low, approving moan from his throat as his fingers begin their magic touch on me. We're lazily provoking each other but again he wins the prize first as I quicken to the caresses he provides. Oh what a fate I live with! I can hear his victorious chuckle as I regain my senses. Conceited man! But I have to admit it's well deserved.
So I increase the attack of my mouth on his body and feel his desire growing. Soon I stop and drop a kiss on his belly as I change positions. He pulls me up onto him and kisses me deeply as he rolls me onto my back.
My legs capture his hips as a clear signal of what I want. "Remus?"
"You're not sore?" he murmurs.
"I'm fine," I whisper. This time our movements are deliberate as I guide him and his breathing is steadier than last time.
"Just let me--there," he murmurs.
Instead of just the thrust, he attends to how his body is laying on mine and soon I understand why.
"Oh!" The pleasure I feel is a surprise. Yes, his body provides that perfect touch, each movement excites my body. I open my eyes to find he is watching me intently.
"Good?" He asks this as he tests a movement.
"The best," I quickly agree as another tingle flows through me.
I begin moving with him to maximize this pleasure. I guess I am rather greedy, but it feels so right to connect with him like this. Soon my body quivers around him and I have no words to describe it. I have no thought except for ecstasy and I realize I'm practically bucking him off as my back arches up.
He stops for a moment to let my climax recede, but it's only for a moment. He's changing position slightly and as he continues his journey, I can focus on what his strokes do for me. And I'm learning the pleasure of this act, but there's nothing like the joy that fills me when I feel him losing control. I hold him to me tightly as he finally releases.
"I love you," I say and although he doesn't echo the words, he kisses me tenderly as an affirmation.
With Remus, actions speak louder than words.
End Chapter 4
Author Notes:
One more chapter to go.
I wanted to clear things up about first times. Most women really
don't have much of a barrier to sex and only about one third of them
even bleed during their first time, so there is no mention blood or
pain, merely a different sensation.
Thanks for reading, no reviews are necessary.
