Wandlore Wordsmiths & Betas Rare Pairs One-Shot Writing Competition
Entry: One Beast, Two Beasts (Number 24)
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Rating: M
Genre: Hurt/Comfort
Pairing: Bill Weasley/Fleur Delacour, Bill Weasley/Remus Lupin
Trigger Warnings: Explicit sex; mentions of violence, blood, injuries, war; assumed infidelity
Disclaimer: All canon characters, plots and situations from the Harry Potter series belong to JK Rowling. None of the Author's represented here are profiting from these stories.
One Beast, Two Beasts
Bill had begun counting the full moons. This was his third, the second since the wedding, and his first by the seaside. He couldn't sleep and spent the nights tossing and turning, then pacing, then prowling, then running outside into the night air and the light of the moon. He could not say he hated it, he felt very alive, every sense acute. But lonely to run along the beach with only the crashing waves to keep him company.
He had only been laying down for half an hour when a knock came at the door. Fleur stirred immediately next to him, drawing her wand from the bedside table.
"Bill-" she hissed, turning to shake him awake.
"I know, I'll go see who it is," he whispered, rising up from the bed, reaching for his own wand. Bill knew that Fleur was always on edge, ever since the wedding she hadn't been able to sleep well, always alert and cautious. Even so far away from everything, they could never feel safe.
Bill's senses were still finely tuned, even as the mornings light began to fill the house, thin and grey, filtering in through light curtains and accompanied by the ever-present beating of the waves. That was why, even as he came down the stairs from their bedroom, he knew who was at the door, and he knew he was hurt.
"Remus-"
"What advice did I give you after the attack?"
"Come on, Remus, you're hurt-"
"What did I say?" Remus insisted, grabbing at his ribs in pain. There were cuts bleeding on his face and his clothes seemed to be barely holding together, and Bill was tempted to just grab him and drag him inside. But he knew that the full wolf was unrelenting, and there was something about the way Remus smelled then, bleeding, sweating, panting that filled up Bill's senses. He couldn't do much more besides breathe in the scent and answer.
"You told me to hold onto my pack."
Remus collapsed against the door frame, breath ragged. Bill caught him around the middle before he fell completely and the older man grunted in pain at the pressure on his ribs.
"Fleur!" Bill called out, but she was already leaving the stairs and coming to his side.
"Bring him inside and set him down," she said, helping them through the door and pulling it shut behind them. Bill was a good deal taller and broader than Remus so he had little trouble pulling him up to his feet and leading him into the sitting room. Even the meager attempts to resist, the weak pushing, the mumbles of "I'm fine" and "I can stand" coming out of Remus with every step were like handling a mouse. What was more difficult was handling the overwhelming smell coming from the full werewolf now that the sea was not overpowering it; it was all Bill could do not to bury his head in Remus's hair. He'd never been with a wolf this close to the full moon.
Fleur came around in front of them, her hair especially silver in the faint morning light and a fire sparking in her eyes. She helped ease Remus down into a chair all the while cooing over his protestations and then pushed Bill away so that she could get in closer.
"Remus, what happened?"
"Deatheaters," he hissed out, coughing a little.
"They attacked you? How did they find you?" Bill asked as Fleur set to work healing the cuts on Remus's face.
"I was setting up a new safe house, I hadn't finished yet, I was careless" he said wincing.
"Shhhh, no, Remus, I doubt you were," Fleur cut in gently, laying her non-wand hand down on his arm and turning those newly-burning blue eyes fully on Remus. Bill heard his breath hitch and smiled slightly, knowing how it felt to get that look. Bill watched the rips in Remus's face seal up under the tip of Fleur's wand, like tearing in reverse. Bill took the seat on the sofa closest to Remus's chair and leaned in. Remus's smell was still so strong, Bill felt like he was breathing in too deeply. He caught Remus's eye as he did and the older man did that curious thing where he smiled with just his eyes and in embarrassment Bill moved a little farther away. If Bill was only a little wolf and he could smell so much, how strong would a full wolf like Remus's sense of smell be so close to the transformation?
"They hit me as I was coming back inside the wards, I had to run. Luckily I had stashed an extra bag in the woods for the full moon or I would be in even worse shape," he said, chuckling slightly, though Bill wasn't fooled. Remus kept his right arm tightly around his ribs and his breathing was labored. Fleur was shushing him gently as he kept talking, and he kept starting to say he was alright and then stopping halfway through, wincing in pain.
"Did someone turn you in?" Bill asked.
"I don't think so, no. They've been on me since your wedding, but I've been able to find safe houses so far," he tried to do the fake chuckle again, but lost it in a bout of hacking coughs.
"Enough, stop with the talking for now. Bill put some tea on," Fleur instructed and Bill did as he was told and he could hear Fleur whispering to Remus in the sitting room behind him, probably telling him all about how this isn't his fault and he should just sit still for her to do her work, Bill thought. Sometimes he worried that he had married his mother by accident.
He hurried back into the sitting room to join them. Fleur had pulled Remus's cloak and shirt away to reveal his ribs, blossoming in violet and black, the sunlight now streaming through the curtains lending an extra touch of red to his body. Bill gasped so suddenly that both Remus and Fleur turned to look at him.
"I'll be fine, Bill," Remus said softly, but surely. Fleur looked at Bill with her fire blue eyes, questioning, and then turned back to Remus's wounds.
"Do you think they will track you here?" Bill asked, quietly, coming to stand next to Fleur, who didn't look up.
"No, I don't think – hssss – they could follow me," he coughed again, but Bill could see the purple and black sinking away, and Remus's breathing came more steady. "Thank you, Fleur. I realize it's a tad late, but happy honeymoon," he said, smiling more fully when Fleur smiled back at him.
"Never late, Remus. You are very welcome here," she replied, straightening back up and letting her silver-blonde hair fall around her.
"Yeah, Remus, you are welcome. If you need a place, you can stay here with us," Bill said, putting his arm around Fleur's shoulders and looking down at the older man.
"I can't intrude, this is your home, you're newlyweds-" he tried.
"You are right," Fleur interjected. "We are newlyweds, and we would like to invite you in. Consider it a wedding gift."
The kettle screamed to life in the kitchen and Bill went to pour some tea for everyone. Remus was putting on a brave face, but he was quickly succumbing to his tiredness and barely made it through the cup of tea that Bill handed him before Fleur offered to show him to the guestroom. Bill did a quick clean-up of the sitting room and the small trail of blood which Remus had dropped starting just outside the door. He suddenly felt the need to clean everything, the whole house, something in the constant straightening he had watched his mother do whenever company came over was coming out.
"I don't think he'll mind the dishes," Fleur giggled from the doorway to the kitchen, startling him.
"I.. I know," Bill laughed. While Fleur moved about making a more filling breakfast than just tea, Bill sat at the kitchen table, nothing to do but think. Was this what all lycanthropes felt? This pull towards each other? How could Remus spend so much time alone? He looked so sad under that smile, so alone, Bill had never felt alone before but somehow he could feel it when he looked at Remus. Such a shame, he thought, Remus would be damn good looking if he wasn't so miserable. He was so much younger than he seemed too, and smart, and brave, and kind, and loyal, and… And like him.
"What do you think we should do?" Fleur asked.
"What do you mean?" They had already invited him to stay. What were they going to do, kick him out?
"I mean… This," she said, waving her hand around the kitchen. Bill knew what she meant now, but still he smiled.
"You mean the curtains? They aren't my favorite, but I don't think that's exactly pressing," he said, tongue in cheek. Fleur slapped his arm, smiling even with her cold blue eyes.
"No, non, Bill," she chided. "You know what I mean!"
"Yeah, yeah, I know," he said, the smile falling away as he looked out at the ocean. "I don't know."
"Do you think we are safe here?" Fleur said, now whispering. Bill wondered if it was Remus she was afraid of hearing them, or something bigger, farther away, dangerous. "How did he know how to find us?"
"He and Kingsley were the only ones outside the family who know about this place. He could only get here because I told him how, before the wedding," Bill confessed. Truth be told, seeing Remus show up in his best clothes, still tattered and roughly darned, he had felt such an overwhelming wave of pity that he couldn't help it. He'd wanted Remus to have a place to come to. They had to stick together now. Hold on to your pack.
Fleur didn't question him on why he had done it, which was good. He didn't know if he could say those things to her. But the way she was looking at him seemed to say she knew.
"Do you think they need us?" she asked, pushing the cooling eggs around on her plate. Bill considered.
"The Ministry thinks we're just on honeymoon. Gringotts won't ask questions."
"We could be fighting, Bill," Fleur leaned in close to him, and he could see the fire getting strong in her eyes. Part of what had drawn Bill to her in those first few meetings had been the fire that seemed to roar just beneath her surface, she way her elegant, fluid movements sometimes became sharp and aggressive. The way when things went wrong, she would begin to curse harshly in French under her breath, thinking no one could hear her, letting the fire out a little. She spread that ferocity to those around her too, she made Bill more active, more productive, more ambitious. So he could see it in her eyes, the image she had planned of the two of them leaping in to battle, wands ablaze, fighting just like they had at the wedding, a smooth extension of their dance. But then that soft music of the waves came in through the window, the reflected light from the ocean caught on the side of his second cup of tea, and a sweet smell of salt and fish and earth and the faintest hint of Remus floated inside of him and he knew that wasn't what was needed of them.
"I think we need to stay here," he said, taking a hold of her hand. "They have enough fighters, there aren't enough safe places. I think we are doing exactly what we need to." Fleur looked the slightest bit disappointed by this statement, but then Bill saw her eyes flicker momentarily towards the guest bedroom, towards someone who had needed a safe place, and he could see she understood.
"You're right," she sighed, sitting back in her chair. They stopped talking for a little while and ate their breakfast, listening to the song of the seaside coming in from outside. Fleur finished her food and sipped from her tea. "You're glad he's here, aren't you?" she asked.
"Yeah, I am," he said. It felt good to say really, even if not saying it wasn't exactly lying it still felt somehow dishonest not to tell her.
"He's a good man," she said, sipping her tea again, eyeing Bill over the top of the cup.
"It's more than that, you know? It's that… I don't know. It's hard to explain."
"I think he's quite handsome, don't you?" Fleur said, looking down towards the guestbedroom. Bill almost spat out his tea.
"I- well yes, but I didn't mean – that. I meant..." Bill sputtered out.
"Single, available, rogue, attractive, stunning, wild-" Fleur started, her accent getting thicker and more exaggerated with each word.
"I meant he's like me and he'll really understand what I'm going through," Bill finally said. He looked down the hallway towards the guest room, thinking of all the conversations they could have that they hadn't had a chance to before. He could ask Remus so many questions about what it was like, to compare his experience to that of a real wolf, a full wolf, to find out how different this would be for him, being the only half-wolf in the world. They could talk about what it felt like to be a beast in a human world, they could talk about how Remus's life had been, there was so much that Bill didn't know, they could run together. They could run together.
"I understand too, Bill," Fleur said, cutting off his train of thought.
"What?"
"I understand what it's like. Did you forget what I am?" she said low, and Bill could see a touch of hurt in the blue fire of her eyes.
"But you're so…"
"Beautiful?" she led, and Bill knew he was in trouble. "You think that's the only part I inherited? You think the other side can't come out too?" Her voice was rising and she stood up. "We never talk about this Bill, but we both are like this. I go through these things too- I could smell him from our bed, too. I can smell you, too, all the time. I'm not human Bill," she said, losing steam and sagging at the shoulders. Bill stood from his chair too and took ahold of her hands, looking into her eyes which had gone a little greyer than usual. He stroked her hair until the blonde came back stronger than the silver.
"I'm sorry, my little champion," he said, leaning in to press their noses together. "I know you're like me, that you were before I was even like this. I want to know what you go through too." He smiled against her and she smiled too, then pressed her lips to his gently.
"My little beast," she purred back.
It was late night before Remus woke up. Bill and Fleur had gone to bed hours before, but only Fleur had fallen asleep. Bill was up still, he had been lying in the bed, then sitting in the chair in their room, and then for a time longer than he was really willing to think about he had stood outside of the guest bedroom, listening to Remus's breathing and smelling him through the door. Then he had run from the house, into the moonlight and the sea air and he hadn't stopped running for quite a while. When he finally stopped, he had made it all the way to the craggy rocks over a mile away, where the beach faded into cliffs. He gasped and panted, clutching at his side, the wind whipping the spray of the waves into his hair. He looked up, catching his breath, and the moon was still so big, almost full. It was not the same as the night before, but it still tugged at something low in his gut, still made his lungs fill, ready to howl. He looked back down the beach, in the direction of the home he couldn't see, and found that from here he could no longer smell Remus, at least not over the scent of the ocean, which was always crisper, cleaner at night. Even the relentless beating of the waves was more harmonious under the moonlight.
He started to walk back to the house, some of the nervous energy having abated, but as soon as he came into view of the house it was back, and he had to fight to keep from giving into the urge to run again. Remus stood on the stone path in front of the door, lifting his face up to the moon, his serious face lit by silver. The light brushed the pre-mature wrinkles away from his brow, highlighted the blonde in his hair, and sparkled in his eyes, like the moon was smiling for him. Bill had walked back slowly, but suddenly he was out of breath again. A large wave came crashing down onto the sand and Remus looked away from the moon, right at Bill, the sparkle still in his eyes.
"It's a nice night, isn't it?" he hummed, stepping down the stone path towards the sandy shore. Bill nodded, but he was unsure if 'nice' was the word he would choose. He didn't know quite what to say to Remus, if he could even say anything. Embarrassingly, he was stuck thinking about those long minutes he had spent listening to Remus sleeping. "Everything feels so quiet after the full moon," Remus said, smiling very slightly.
"Not the ocean," Bill responded, finding his voice. Remus chuckled and looked out at the waves receding. Bill looked at them too, then looked back into Remus's face. "But it sounds better after."
"Will tomorrow be your first time here?" Remus asked, still looking at the tide.
"Yeah."
"It's been a long time since I've seen the ocean," Remus almost whispered, like it was the ocean breeze pulling the words from his mouth.
"Take off your shoes, come on," Bill said, touching Remus's elbow gently, and a wave of heat passed between them, causing Remus to finally look at Bill. His eyebrows were questioning, but Bill just smiled at him, convincingly he hoped, and started to walk towards the edge of the waves. Bill was already barefoot, he always ran barefoot.
"It'll be cold?" Remus questioned. Bill laughed.
"We're wolves! Aren't we tougher than that?" he joked, a little risky, and for a split second he had thought that he had said something he shouldn't have but then Remus let out a barking, snorting laugh, harsher than any sound Bill had ever heard out of him and he was kicking off his beat up shoes and stripping out of his ratty socks, jogging towards Bill and the waves. He reached the end and stopped abruptly, causing Bill to almost run into him. "What is it?" he asked, taking hold of Remus's arm from behind. Remus kept looking at the waves almost lapping at his toes.
"It's been so long…" he whispered.
"No time like the present," Bill said back, low, almost whispering too. He bent down and scooped up a handful of water from the next wave and lifted it up to Remus, the drips falling from his hand glittered in the moonlight like diamonds. Remus reached out his hand and gently dipped his fingers into the salt water in Bills hand, and when the tips touched Bills palm they were almost burning hot. Remus breathed in sharply, staring at Bill's hand and now, up close, Bill could smell him more strongly over the scent of the ocean and everything felt too intimate so he dropped his hand, letting the water splash back into the sea. Remus looked up at him, but Bill turned his face away and moved back a little. Remus leaned away slightly too, but then without warning he hurdled forward into the waves; it was so sudden that Bill couldn't help but exclaim in surprise and this caused Remus to do the strange snorting laugh again. To hell with it, Bill thought and he ran after Remus into the next wave, soaking his pants up to the knee and laughing too.
"It is cold!" Remus exclaimed and Bill bent down to splash him, but the older werewolf beat him too it and Bill was left wiping the salt water off his face and pushing his long red hair back, only to look up and see Remus smiling deviously.
"And to think you were my brothers' professor!" Bill laughed, scooping water up and flinging it towards Remus, who was chuckling a little softer than before.
"I may have played a few tricks on my students," he said with a trickster smirk, then his head snapped around, looking intently at the waves, looking through them and sniffing. Bill could smell them too, the seals out just a bit farther than he would swim. Their birthing season was starting, he and Fleur had made a special trip to their shores to watch some of them being brought into the world, and both had made some not-too-subtle suggestions about doing the same. Bill felt a sudden urge to tell Remus that baby seals were called pups. It seemed very relevant somehow.
"Fleur and I talked this morning, after you went to sleep," he said instead. It took Remus a few seconds to look back at Bill, and his face was more like the Remus Bill used to know, more composed and hesitant.
"I presume about me," Remus replied, and Bill could hear that it wasn't a question.
"Sort of. We talked about the war, the fighting," he said, looking away from Remus and stretching his toes, which were starting to get painfully cold.
"It may be a little self-serving, but I don't think you should join the fighting," Remus said, and despite the resolution he had come to this morning with Fleur that they would stay out of it, he still felt the slightest twinge of disappointment. A part of him, and he knew which part, had wanted Remus to suggest they fight together. This is what Fleur must have been feeling, Bill thought.
"That's what we thought too- why would that be self-serving for you?"
"I wouldn't have had anywhere to go," Remus said, and Bill looked back into his face and couldn't help but smile. He felt a little warmer seeing the tender smile on Remus's face, even if it had that touch of sadness. Above them a grey cloud moved in front of the moon and they both looked up.
"We talked about… what we are, too," Bill said, so quiet the crashing waves almost drowned him out, but out of the corner of his eye he could see Remus nodding. "She said that I should remember that she's like us too." Remus looked away from the clouded moon at Bill and Bill looked back at him.
"I was turned when I was four," he said. Remus and Bill had never much talked about Remus's past. Bill knew he had been young, but not that young and his eyes widened in surprise. Remus raised his hand and Bill didn't say anything, closing his open mouth. "I had a life before I was a werewolf. I don't remember it, but I had one. You had decades of being human, without qualifiers. You were just a human. And now you are a little bit something else, but you are still mostly human," he said and Bill furrowed his brows. He knew that he wasn't really a werewolf, he knew that he had barely been afflicted, but he couldn't ignore that he was part that now. He opened his mouth again, preparing to speak past Remus's silencing hand when the full lycanthrope cut him off.
"Fleur has never had that. She has never been just human, Bill," he said, sloshing forward through the waves to come and stand before him. He grabbed Bill's arm tightly, and Bill could see there was an element of desperation in Remus's eyes, a little yellow flashing in the usual brown. "I told you to hold onto your pack. There's no one in the world who can understand you as well as she can. You have to listen to her," he pushed and Bill could hear the pleading underneath his words. Remus was staring into his eyes, unflinching, waiting for a response and Bill didn't really know what to say except:
"I will."
"Good," Remus said, exhaling and Bill tried not to get lost in the smell of his breath. Remus let go of his arms but didn't move back. The cloud blew away from in front of the moon and they were again bathed in moonlight, unable to resist the temptation to look up at the silver light in the sky. Bill knew what he wanted to say.
"I know that she understands what it's like to not be human, but… But she doesn't know what it's like to be a wolf either." Remus smirked, still looking at the moon.
"True, true. I'm not sure anyone else knows what it's like to run with the moon," he said, and then he looked back up at Bill, that trickster look glinting in his eyes, and Bill found that he couldn't resist that at all. Remus was still holding onto his arms, heat still pulsing between them, so much so that Bill barely even noticed how cold the ocean was. "What say we have a little run, Bill?" Remus proposed, leaning in close to Bill's face so that his breath blew right across Bill's nose, and there was not a fiber in Bill's body capable of saying no.
He didn't even have to respond before Remus was leaping away from him, back to the sand, and running down the beach, the opposite direction as where Bill had run before. Bill went sprinting after him and he found his mind switching into another place, another being, there were no words anymore, just the smell of Remus and the ocean, the pounding of Remus's feet in the sand and the crashing of the waves beside them. Chasing became his everything, his heart beat, his emotions, the rhythm of his arms and legs, and he was catching up, closing in, tied, passing, leaping ahead with no finish line and then he was hit from behind and came tumbling to the ground in a mass of thrashing limbs.
Remus was growling in his ears, grabbing at his hands, rolling them in and out of the surf, each with no thought other than coming out on top. Remus had more experience with this game, Bill could sense it, feel it in the way his body was pressing against him. Remus pinned his legs down, stretched his hands above his head, and laughed that snorting, barking laugh in Bill's face. Their bodies were touching at every point, bare skin on bare skin, breath heaving out into the shared air between them, each taking in the others'.
Bill stared up into Remus's golden eyes, transfixed, and a thought came into his mind: to close the last distance. Remus seemed to have the same thought and Bill's heart skipped as he leaned down, brushing their faces against each other, so close, and then he missed Bill's mouth. Instead Remus buried his head in Bill's neck and Bill couldn't help but push and struggle against him as Remus's hot breath bathed over his thin skin, feeling his flaring nose press into him. Remus's body was fighting back, pressing down harder, almost rhythmically, rocking into Bill like the tide and Bill's back arched against his will, thrusting him up into Remus's body, forcing every part of them together and Bill was done with waiting so he used all his strength to pull one hand free from Remus's grip, grab the werewolf's hair and drag his mouth up to Bill's.
Bill had never had a kiss so violent, and his face would show the evidence for days. Remus dominated everything, pushing into Bill's mouth, beating out his tongue, marking every tooth, every cheek, every lip, every bud on Bill's tongue as his own and Bill was almost screaming into his mouth but Remus just growled through it. He ripped Bill's hand from his hair and then grabbed onto Bill as they started rolling across the beach, rubbing their bodies together, grinding the sand into their skin, and Bill was finding the strength to fight back.
He tore into Remus's already ripped clothes, stripping the smaller wolf down almost naked in seconds while Remus made short work of Bill's clothes. Bill worked his legs between Remus's and used the leverage to spread them apart so that Remus was straddling his hips, pressing their cocks together through what remained of their pants. Remus pulled him up, sitting and grinding into Bills crotch, growling into his mouth, fucking him with his tongue, nails digging into his shoulders. Bill reached around him, dragging his nails down Remus's back and he knew he drew blood and that just made Remus press into him harder, he grabbed ahold of Remus's ass, squeezing and separating the cheeks.
One of Remus's hands worked its way between them, tearing the last fabric away that separated their erections, taking both of them into his hands at once, his long fingers burning like fire and stroking them together so hard Bill started to whimper. Had there been any words in his head at the time, Bill might have thought about how he had never done this before, but where it stood now, Bill couldn't imagine having existed ever outside of this sweating, panting, crushing, bleeding moment. He pressed one finger into Remus hard and when Remus's breath hitched, and he pushed his body a little farther from Bill's, a little farther onto Bill's finger, he dug in harder. Remus lost the fight to keep his mouth on Bill's it hung slack, drooling onto Bill's chest, and he worked his other hand down to grab ahold of Bill's balls, squeezing them without rhythm, and fucking himself down onto Bill's fingers then grinding into his cock. When Bill added another finger he howled up, arching his back and his neck at the moon. That was enough for both of them and their cum spurted out, leaking onto Bill's stomach.
It was the icy feel of the waves coming down on his feet that finally shook Bill out of his post-orgasm stupor. He didn't know how long he had been out, but he was alone. He couldn't even smell Remus, except for the remnants of dried semen on his stomach. He felt suddenly, guiltily human. He stood before the next wave could hit his toes and stumbled back across the beach towards home, towards Remus. Towards his wife.
In the morning Bill pretended to sleep in, letting Fleur get up alone while he hid under the sheets not letting her see his face, the evidence from the night before. He didn't know how to face her. He couldn't lie to her, he'd never been good at it, but the thought of telling her scared him to the core. There'd been so much fire in her eyes as soon as Remus had showed up, like she was waking up from a sleep Bill hadn't known she'd been in. Every time Bill pictured her face though the image of Remus howling at the moon clouded her out and Bill had been fighting a recurring hard on for about three hours, every time the sensations of what he had done came back to him, his skin still burning from Remus's touch.
After almost an hour and a half of lying in bed, awake, alone, he decided that it was more pathetic to hide and not tell her than it would be to cower in fear and ask for forgiveness. So he got up, took another shower, and dressed himself. The shower took a little longer than he should have, but he finally lost the fight against his lower half and it was almost enough to make him lose his nerve too.
He paused halfway down the stairs and his heart dropped into his stomach. Fleur was crying. He could hear her in the kitchen, hear the tinkling sound of cups clinking against saucers. She knew, she had to know, that was why she was crying, he had ruined everything he had hurt her, this was all his fault- and then another sense came into his mind. It was a sense of absence.
He couldn't smell Remus. He couldn't smell Remus anywhere.
He stepped the rest of the way down the stairs and pushed the kitchen door open slowly. Fleur was standing by the sink, moving dishes back and forth without actually cleaning them. As Bill came in she kept her face turned away from him, wiping at her eyes.
"What happened?" he asked, quietly, afraid she would break if he spoke too loud.
"He - *hck* - he left," she said, in a tiny voice. Bill took a cautious step towards her, reaching out a hand but then rethinking it and putting his arm back by his side.
"When?"
"A while ago," she whispered and her shoulders sagged and she collapsed over the dishes on the counter. Bill grabbed ahold of her instinctually, wrapping her in his arms, which were still raw from being sanded the night before. She struggled against him weakly, sobbing, and Bill fought back tears himself. She was hurting, and it was his fault. Once her cries quieted a little, he looked down at the top of her silver head, and he knew he had to do it.
"Fleur, there's something I need to tell you," he muttered, steeling his jaw to cooperate. He could do this, he had to do this, it was the right thing-
"Bill, I know, I knew last night," she said against his chest, her hands balled up into his robe. He gasped, and tried to push her back enough to look in her face, to try and see if she really meant what she was saying.
"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry-" he began, feeling like there were not enough apologies in the world to make up for this.
"Don't be. I told him to do it," she said, wiping her eyes and nose, looking up at him. "I thought it would be good for the both of you. I could see the way you were looking at each other, the way you felt, and our lives are so short Bill, they are too short and the war-"
It was Bill's turn to cut her off, tilting her chin up and pressing his lips to hers in a gently, brief kiss.
"I love you," he whispered into her hair, pulling her in close for another embrace. His wife, sweet and aggressive, tender and resilient, reserved and compassionate. He kissed to the top of her head, at the silver hairs that reminded him of the beast part of her, of the edge to her beauty. He felt, in the brisk morning air, in the shimmer of the ocean light, that Remus's words had been true. There's no one in the world who can understand you as well as she can. You have to listen to her. "Did he say why he left?"
"He said he was sorry, for what he brought here. He wanted this place to stay safe." Even as Bill felt a small emptiness grow inside him, he knew that Remus had been right. Remus was a man of peace, but now he needed to be a beast of war. More of Remus's words floated into Bill's mind as he looked down into Fleur's tearful, loving face. Hold on to your pack, he had said and Bill realized now that Remus had never meant to include himself. Bill could not hold on to him, he had to run. Swaying in the slight ocean breeze that stirred their kitchen curtains, he held on tight to his wife, his little champion, his little beast, and he was in turn held by her. The sweetness of the ocean and of Fleur's natural magic filled him up and for the first time in months he finally felt at peace.
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