Cast of players:
Lily played by Michelle (Aka. Amania)
James Potter played by Emma
Sirius Black played by Violet-eyed-devil
Remus Lupin played by Charli
Peter Pettigrew played by Michelle (Aka. Amania)
Lucius Malfoy played by Layne
Brandubh of Breasil played by Tina R. (Aka. Neko or Biliousneko)
Lady Laveda played by Sako Akarui
more to come...
Oracles of Time
Part 2: "Wolf Prince of York"
Or
"Bare naked with nothing but a piece of wood…"
(As compiled from posts 32-49)
* * * * * * * *
Sirius groaned....and then groaned some more. Had anyone aught the number of
the herd of Hippogriffs that had just danced the Nutcracker Suite on his head? He'd set their bloody tutu's on fire if he ever caught them.
Cracking open one eye, Sirius braved a small glance around...he was in a now deserted training field and their were only a smattering of people going in and out of the makeshift huts around the area. It was night fall and he guessed he'd passed out drunk and the men had just left him there in the cold...ha ha, nice joke. Sirius groaned again and sat up.
Speaking of cold...was it supposed to be this frigid? What season was it here anyway? And what the hell was sticking into his butt crack anyway....wait a minute.... Sirius gulped, trying to clear his foggy head and banish the dead animal that had crawled into his mouth and started to decompose, and glanced bravely down at his body...before groaning again and whimpering in protest.
Okay...when did he get naked because he certainly didn't remember offering a
strip tease. And the thing digging into his arse was his wand...thank Merlin for small mercies. Extracting the wand from underneath him, he started dolefully at the piece of ebony wood as though it could solve all his problems.
Wait a minute.. someone stole his BLOODY CLOTHES!
As if this fact had just occurred to him, Sirius jumped up...a stream of curses in both English and Gaelic erupting from his mouth and the torment it caused his hangover body...and glanced around for his clothes. Nowhere!
"That's it!" he bellowed, scaring a few birds into flight and a couple of horse
turned skittish. "Whoever stole my clothes shall be put to the cruelest torture imaginable! I shall flay him alive, chop him into very small pieces, roast him over a fire and feed him to that ugly looking thing over there," Sirius pointed to some pig thing in trees not far off. Before throwing his arms in the air, not really that ashamed of his nakedness.
"I WAS GETTING RATHER FOND OF THOSE LEATHER PANTS!!!"
* * * * * * * * *
Remus kept his eyes closed. When he opened his eyes, he would be in his warm bed at Hogwarts, wearing comfortable flannel pajamas, and demanding a cat scan due to the wild dream he had been having. He would not being wearing brown leather; he would not be wearing a sword or waking up to find a former horse thief turned herald and a
white steed to meet him.
He smelled the cool scent of morning dew against the log he rested
his head on, and closed his eyes tighter.
He didn't want to open his eyes.
Bran woke with a start, looking left and right feverishly before realizing to his horror that he had fallen asleep. He quieted down at the sight of Remus sleeping, and slowly got to his feet. He backed away slowly, as though to bolt, but then thought better. The pri-... no, Remus... had seemed so friendly... unnaturally so, if he was any judge. When Royalty was friendly like that, they tended to be doing something of questionable morals. But still... he couldn't help but feel a twinge of... something... in the boy. Regretting every moment, he checked the saddle bags for food, bread, anything, and then finding a simple loaf crept up to His Majesty and poked him gently in the shoulder. "Remus?"
Remus groaned as that unmistakable voice came into his ear, and he rolled over, mumbling something about murdering Sirius when he saw him next. He slowly opened his eyes and looked up at the youthful face or Bran and sighed.
"Good morning," he replied, and slowly say up, trying to get used to the leather he wore. Dew dampened his silver-flecked hair a bit, and the clouds overhead didn't appear very promising, but nevertheless...He smiled at Bran and took the proffered bread. He
broke it in half and offered the herald some kindly, suppressing a yawn.
"Hungry?"
"Famished!" Bran growled, and grabbed it ravenously. He hadn't eaten in at least two days. Lack of food was something he was used to, and if Remus was plotting anything, he would deal with it as it came. For now, why look a gift-horse in the mouth?
Remus looked at him in mild amusement, and ate his a deal slower. He gave the poor boy a sympathetic look and noticed then just how thin he was.
"You know, if you're hungry, just ask! I'm sure I've got plenty, and I'd rather not have you pass out from starvation," he said kindly.
"oomph fawwm! Wuhwi!" the Harold said, which was supposedly supposed to be "I'm fine! Really!" but had trouble getting past the bread.
After coughing a bit as it went down the wrong way, he managed, "I'm used to it." He wiped his mouth with a sleeve and then his hands on his jerkin before standing, besides! It's you who needs to keep your energy up! I've heard tales of royalty catching sick so easily...?"
Probably all that inbreeding. Bran kept the second part to himself, and smiled broadly. "Are we off then?"
Remus raised an eyebrow; if only Bran knew about the illness within him. He'd never say it outright, but there was no sense in lying.
Fully, anyway.
"Well, there are tales, and I suppose much of it is true, but I am as fit as a fiddle. Any disease that I may have must lay dormant at the moment," he said with a smile. But he frowned as he leapt agilely to his feet. "Besides, you shouldn't be used to starvation. That's a harsh treatment...Please eat as much as you like; I'm not that hungry," he said, and went to un-tether the horse. The fire had long gone out, and after a few moments, they were off, Remus desperately trying to get used to the feeling of being in the saddle.
Bran walked along beside him, feeling rather odd. "... sir? Can I ask you something?" he said finally, after a long silence between the two.
Remus, apprehensive about falling off, looked down at Bran and smiled nervously. "Remus will do..." He'd rather not give out his nickname. "But yes, go ahead and ask," he replied. He inwardly hoped that Bran might want to ride the horse...fat chance of that, he chuckled.
"Well... I was just wondering... Remus..." he corrected himself again, then stopped, taking the reins of the horse and bringing it too to a halt and peering past it's ears at the Prince, "... have you hit yourself on the head? Eaten bad berries? Or have I done something very terrible? I want to make this clear that if you're Mad, it's not my fault!"
Remus looked at him oddly for a moment; eaten bad berries...?
He decided that it was better not to ask.
"Er...I'm just feeling a bit ill lately. I told you, at the last tournament, I was hit a bit too hard on the head by a lance..." Remus trailed off. Wow, that was a really weak response. But he couldn't just come right out and say, "Oh! I'm a wizard-in-training displaced in time because a doofy friend of mine read an oracle and I'm just a
naturally nice guy!" He'd definitely get weird looks for *that* one.
"I'm afraid I don't understand. But I assure you that I'm quite sane, and is there a rule somewhere that says that royalty *has* to be bastards to the commoners?" he asked. He realized that this was less- than-gracious talk for a prince, but he didn't care.
Ah. well, at least the social separation was still safely in tact. Bran nodded. "I see, I see. So~~ all this kindness is just because of a bump on your head, and as soon as you are healed I'm in the stocks? I'm just clearing this all up, mind...."
Remus paused for a moment, then burst into laughter.
"Honestly...a person has a title, and suddenly, everyone thinks they're going to get beheaded at my next whim," he said with a chuckle, and shook his head.
"I assure you that you will not be sent to the stocks, and you will not be killed. Learn to have a bit of trust!"
Bran laughed outright, letting go of the horse, and allowing it to continue forward, "Well, that's easy for *you* to say. There's special rules for people like you. I trust royalty as far as I could throw you." after a moment, he looked Remus up and down, and realized
that quite possibly he could throw the light-haired boy rather far... "on the other hand..." he began, grinning. His new master looked like he could take a joke.
A mischievous glint appeared in Remus' eye that was usually reserved only for Marauding occasions. Indeed, this boy would fit in rather well with his little quartet!
"Aha...you may try, but I daresay you'd not get very far," he said with a grin. Light though he appeared, lycanthropy had given him strength and agility in his normal, human form that far surpassed a normal person. But he'd not let that known.
The boy laughed and relaxed slightly. "You really don't mind an informal tone, then? I'm testing the waters here. If we where in public, I'm sure I would be stoned to death by now with this insolence." He smiled broadly, shrugging. The nonchalant demeanor not fitting exactly right with the words.
"No, on the contrary, I prefer the informal tone. It sounds less uptight," he said with a jovial grin. "And if anyone stones you..."
He put on a look of mock pomp and anger, "Off with their head!"
He offered a grin though, and reached up, running a hand through his hair. He was suddenly aware that his eyes and hair were quite unnatural for the time period, and that they were coming across a small encampment that was on the side of the road.
"Ah!" Bran noticed the encampment as well, "Want I should run along ahead and tell them of your arrival? I don't know if this is still one of those.. informal times... or if we're back in the real world..."
Remus shrugged. "Sure, if you want to get a bit of practice in on your heralding skills," he said with a smile, and tried to sit up and look regal in the saddle. "I doubt I'll stop really, but still...I've got to look as Princely as possible with dirt and dew covering me," he said with a sheepish smile, and started to dust himself off as best he could.
"Oh, you would look regal even if a bear came and maimed you, god forbid." The herald laughed, but ran ahead towards the ring of people busying themselves with whatever tasks they where performing.
Finding a tree stump, Bran jumped up and cleared his throat. "If you please, dear sirs and madams!" A vague hush ran through the crowd, but only vague. Once again, he cleared his throat, watching out of the corner of his eye for Remus, and then on cue as the horse plodded into view, he bowed low and said, quite simply, "Our and Your Majesty, the Prince of York!" What else could be said? A prince was a prince. The only higher station would be King, and he too would need little introduction. This was going to be easy.
Remus felt a flush paint his cheeks as he watched his new herald leap onto a tree stump and announce his arrival. Prince of York? *Wolf* Prince of York?
Remus hated irony. He really...really hated Irony.
He sat tall in the saddle as the horse ambled up the path, and watched as the entire congregation that stood about the encampment bowed him homage to him. Remus felt is cheeks flush and smiled nevertheless.
"How embarrassing," he muttered through grinning teeth as he rode past Bran and smiled.
"Er, come along, Brandubh," he said warily, glancing about him. "I'd rather not let these people hang around here all day when they've got stuff to do," he said cordially.
Everyone in the crowd looked at him as if he was speaking a foreign language. It then dawned on Remus that they had no idea of 20th century colloquialisms, so he quickly restated his statement as best he could in archaic.
But as he finished his statement, an older man of questionable station hurried up, bowed to Remus, and looked at Remus with a slightly angered expression on his flushed face.
"Beggin' Your Majesty's pardon," he began quickly, breathless, "But there is a young man here who was caught drunk last night, and is in need of punishment. In absence of a priest or friar, the people of our humble party was hoping that you, by your Divine royal hand, might bestow proper punishment on him for his insolence!"
Remus looked around for a moment, and blinked down at the man, ignoring the small drops of rain that started to lazily drop onto his head. Divine? Punishment for drinking? What kind of society *was* this!?
"Er...take me to him," Remus finally said as he dismounted. He refused the help offered to him, and simply led his horse beside him. He nodded to Bran, a perplexed look on his face, and followed the man as he led them to a large, open-mouthed tent.
Remus refused to say "Off With His Head!" over drinking...No way, no how.
It was just too cliché for his tastes.
Bran caught Remus's look and darted forward, taking the horse's reigns from the prince's hands and walking just a step or two behind him, leading the animal along. Noting Remus's expression, he made sure that he was nearby, in case he was needed... and something told the boy that Remus was in need of any help he could get. "I'm not
sure if I like this." he mumbled more to himself than to anyone else, but hey- Remus was in charge, and who was he to question the will of god?
********
Lucius scowled and looked at Pettigrew. Something about him called out to Lucius and said that he was one that he should never trust.
" Enough wasting time. The sooner we get Yorkshire, the sooner we can figure our way out of this .." He looked around and saw how dirty everything was, " flee ridden world."
He looked down expecting to see his watch but only seeing skin. He kicked a barrel in anger. "Blimey, no way to tell time!"
His looked over to Pettigrew.
"Listen Peter- Go find some proper clothing and meet me in the stables in about fifteen minutes. We must prepare the horses. We will travel to Yorkshire at sun rise tomorrow."
"For this century it is the proper attire............ " he stated seriously. "But......... if you don't mind the odd......... glances sure I'll change" he said. "So tomorrow...... at sunrise........... great...... sounds perfect the sooner we go the better I agree" he stated. "Until then milord" he stated and then turned on his heel and left.
Stupid Malfoy....... what a git! He wondered where the others where and what they were up to. I hope they're alright........ he thought to himself. He grinned slightly, then again knowing Sirius..... he's probably in the stocks by now, he laughed slightly at the thought of him getting some ruler mad.
Lucius Malfoy turned heel and left Peter Pettigrew heading back to his throne room. He could do whatever he liked and since time was of the essence he figured he'd talk some young maiden into helping him find his room.
He spotted one about his age sweeping the throne room. Otherwise, it was fairly empty minus a few guards. Obviously life did do on when he was not in the room.
"Excuse me?", he said quietly coming up behind her.
The girl turned her eyes growing large and she nearly threw herself on the ground to bow before him. Lucius found it amusing how in his other life he would have enjoyed seeing such a fair young specimen getting down on their knees before him. This seemed sort of degrading though.
" Please stand," he said.
The girl did as told.
"Yes, milord."
Lucius nodded off the attention of the guards.
" I am feeling slightly disoriented today. Could you tell me where my chambers are?", he asked.
The girl grew scarlet red through he filthy rags and knotted hair. She had obviously not taken it as Lucius had meant it.
"Milord, I am not a chamber maid, " Lucius laughed out loud.
"Milady, I honestly do not know where I am. A general nod in the direction of my chambers will be satisfactory."
The girl tried to suppress a smile but failed terribly.
" Second door on the right in the North Tower. You follow the stairs to the right and you should get there quickly."
Lucius seemed pleased with the answer. "Thank you."
With that he started to jog out of the room.
"Milord", the girl called out, " I pray you win your tournament."
"Oh I will!", Lucius called back.
He followed her directions to the letter. Heading through a spiral staircase and into a small room with a huge bed and a desk with letters on it. He walked towards them and realized these were his Pedigree papers. He'd need these in Yorkshire. There wasn't a lot of time to examine them since he had to go meet with Pettigrew shortly.
He picked out a pair of black leather breeches and starch white shirt and quickly changed. Perhaps medieval fashion wasn't horrendous after all. He then walked over to a water basin and washed up his face.
"Much better," he told himself.
When satisfied his appearance, he looked out the window and spotted the stables. It would be easy enough to find it.
"Back to Medieval time with the Potter fan club," he sighed to himself as he raced out the doors and made his way to the stables.
Peter looked at Lucius as he entered the stables, the horse was all tacked up and ready, another servant had made sure of that. "Can you even joust?" he asked Lucius when the servants were gone for a moment. "Or........ better yet" he grinned and paused, "Ride a horse?" he asked with a curious look. Lucius never seemed the type to like horses, and he knew that he didn't know how to joust. "Oh....... and that sharp thing..... at your side........ it's a sword" he informed him with a smirk.
He could not wait, to see this. Lucius Malfoy's butt dirty from being thrown by a horse. He was certain that the foolish git didn't know how to ride, probably didn't know the front of the horse from the back, too much inbreeding in his 'pureblood' status among the wizards. He doubted that Lucius was as pureblood as he thought, it didn't matter to him though. Pureblood, half blood, or muggle born....... everyone was equal.
* * * * * * * * * *
Sirius was pissed....and not due to the mulled mead he had consumed the night before. He had woken up to find his clothes missing and after relieving himself of his frustration had found himself held captive by two ogre-like brutes and sniveling man who had dashed off to retrieve some Prince so His Royalness could impart divine punishment upon his soul. Obviously being naked and yelling at the top of your lungs was a bad idea in Medieval Europe.
So now he was sober, without clothes, held captive awaiting some pompous git who probably had a stick up his arse impart judgment on his poor victimized self...and his bloody arse was going numb from exposure!
Shivering and slowly boiling mad from and anger and frustration, Sirius finally
cracked...
"That's it! I have had enough!" Sirius brandished his wand in front of him, waving it threateningly. "I am not waiting here for whatever royal prat is coming here to add more pain to this already crappy day. I am using this here wand and I am GOING TO FIND MY BLOODY PANTS!!!!"
The grunts merely raised their eyebrows and stood to block Sirius' escape. Sirius jabbed one in his enormous chest with his wand. "Don't make me turn you into a pile of horse shite...cause I'll do it!"
Remus looked at Bran curiously as he took the horse's reins from his hands, and smiled slightly, though he felt a bit bad. The boy was at most 16, the same as him, and yet he felt he was below Remus...The lycanthrope scoffed at this; this was one reason he was so glad that feudalism went out ages ago...er...Well, kinda. It would be out in a few hundred years, at least! Sighing, he ran a hand through his damp, slightly dirty hair, his silvery eyes tired and restless.
He'd not slept very well the night previous, as he was used to comfortably warm
beds in a nice castle with house elves and whatnot. He wasn't used to logs and dirt. At least, not on his human side. He brushed a few bits of dirt from his long leather overcoat, which he finally noticed was embroidered slightly with a few ornate Celtic knots, and he saw clearly now the crest of the howling wolf on his breast. He groaned inwardly. Stupid irony.
As he stepped behind the men who led him, he looked up as he heard a distinctly
Irish voice cry out angrily about a pair of lost trousers. Obviously, this would be the man he would have to 'punish'. Wasn't a slight bit of gentle admonishing enough?
He had second thoughts about this, however, as he heard the stranger yell out more. Indeed.. perhaps he was a mad man! He glanced down at his belt for a moment, and debated between the wand and the sword, but seeing no cause to create alarm, he reached for the hilt of his blade, and put a hand up.
"Be still," he replied, "I will handle this on my own."
Then, with an unsteady hand, he pulled the blade from its scabbard, letting the ominous sound of blade against sheath echo in the still morning air.
Sirius froze as the song of a sword being drawn sung through his ears and a
commanding voice sounded from just outside the ten. Oh no...no way was he letting some high and might royal come anywhere near him with a sharp pointed anything...whatever these people though was justice this was certainly not it! Glaring up at his guards, Sirius bellowed out the full body bind and watched with pure glee as the two lumps of lard fell crashing to the ground...narrowly missing taking the tent with them. Snickering nastily and grinning like the rouge he was, Sirius paused to consider his options. Sword against wand....hmm, if he had some galleons on him he'd bet on wand any day. And with that clear in his mind...Sirius charged from the tent, wand at ready.
Remus pulled the sword to bear as he heard the shouting halt abruptly, and as the insane man wheeled about and into view, he raised the sword and held it with pinpoint accuracy at the oncoming throat. His silvery eyes narrowed, and those watching feel back in surprise at the usually placid prince's act of anger. A chill wind blew off the moors, casting a few more rain drops against his face, and it ruffled his silver-flecked hair.
Clearly, he had a slight wolfish look about him; a promise of danger should he be so openly opposed. But he was far from a tyrant.. that could be seen in his eyes, though they were narrowed with dignity and calm, quiet anger.
"Going somewhere so..." he trailed off as he took in the sight of the young man, also about his age, as he turned. He certainly didn't *look* Irish...his shaggy black hair saw to that. But the more shocking aspect was that this poor lad, whoever he was, was stark naked! They'd taken the poor lad's clothing!
Now, rebuking he could see, but clothing theft.. that was inhumane.
Nevertheless, he kept the blade raised, having failed to notice the ebony wand.
Sirius gulped...he had not been planning to find a very deadly looking sword pointed inches from his throat the moment he had barreled from the tent. He had been planning for a little space to move before the Princely boy had his sharp pointed piece of metal anywhere near important body parts. Taking a deep breath, and raising his arm to bring his ebony wand level with the Prince's chest...Sirius allowed a wicked grin to curve his lips...even as he kept his eyes lowered to the Prince's chest, the gray orbs hidden behind his shaggy hair.
"I wouldn't be pointing that at someone holding a wand, Your Royalness." Sirius
quipped. "I am kind of partial to my head...I tend to use it a lot."
And with that, Sirius lifted his head, a mischievous gleam in his eyes. He took in the fine boned features of the Prince's face...the silver flecked honey toned brown hair.
And then found himself looking into shocked silvery blue eyes.
Very, very familiar silvery blue eyes...
"Moony...?!"
Bran's eyes widened as the boy charged out, a wand like the one his master had waved at him... or not waved at him... earlier brandished and at the ready... a wave of confusion swept over him as Sirius looked up at Remus and uttered a hoarse "..Moony?"
Frustration replaced that and he took the shocked pause between the two figures as shock at the informalities of the issue, rolled up his sleeves in anger and walked briskly up to the naked figure, then kicked him in the side with a leather-shod foot. "Do you not have any idea who it is you address?? Show some respect, you drunken fool!"
Bran certainly wasn't the most observant person in the world.
Remus watched in slow amazement as the boy raised an ebony wand to his chest, and raised an eyebrow. This boy was a wizard...? Slowly, Remus lowered the sword as is would-be attacker raised his eyes, and...
Remus gaped. Those stormy gray eyes only matched one person he knew...
"Moony?" Sirius Black said hoarsely.
Silence reigned for a long time as Remus lowered his blade fully to the ground, though the wand was still pointed at his chest. He swallowed and raised his chin slightly, smiling a bit.
"Padfoot...if you wanted to duel, you should be properly dressed for such an occa-"
His attempt at smooth commentary with his dear friend was cut off abruptly, however, as Brandubh flew across the way and kicked Sirius as hard as he could in the side.
The silence shattered, Remus turned sharply on his herald, his silvery eyes suddenly attaining a sense of regality that masked his shock for the time being. He sheathed his blade quickly and, though angry, he only took Bran by the shoulder with a surprisingly firm grip that betrayed his lean physique.
"Bran! Do not speak in manners that you know nothing about!" he cried vociferously; it was something he had heard on an old Muggle Dark Ages film before. "The act of punishment was to be bestowed by myself, and last I checked, Brandubh of Breasal was not the Prince of York," he said, also paraphrasing a feature film. He released his herald from his grip and looked at him carefully. "Now.. please go tend to your duties. I am not angry, and will not punish you; you knew not that this young man and I are dear friends. And as I said before, I must prefer the informal tongue among friends. What he spoke was merely a nickname; nothing else. Go."
That said, he looked back to Sirius, and the rest of the congregation that had amassed the would-be fight. Remus strode over to his ailing friend, put a gentle arm about his shoulders, and looked at the crowd carefully.
"Go back to your duties; I wish to speak with him in private. And bring him his bloody clothes, for the love of God!"
Bran withdrew, face red with embarrassment and muttered slightly under his breath. "Right away." he managed, and slipped off to go find the prisoner some clothes.
"How was I to know?" he muttered, shivering in the damp, "the whole world's gone mad, that's all I can think of. Princes deciding to be buddy buddy with common muck, and drunken prisoners turning out to be long lost mates. And magic! Or lack there of..." he let out a disgruntled grunt and calmed as he approached the area where other servants and such like where gathering and going off their separate ways. A likely spot for some sort of clothing. The boy.. Padfoot, the prince had called him, could sort out his own belongings when they where finished with him.
Something wasn't entirely right, and he wanted to find out what.
Maybe that... power... had something to do with it. He'd let it wait, and deal with things as they came. He had mixed emotions about his new master as well. He feared him, and the power he held... not magic, but position, yes. But on the other hand, it seemed silly.
Remus wanted to be friends, it seemed, but how could he when he had a position and the rest of the court to think about? Besides... he pulled his sleeves tighter around him, attempting to keep the wet out, why on earth would someone like the *prince* want to be friends with the resident odd-job boy? He dismissed the train of thought, trying to cheer himself up, and remembered his new position. A herald. That was a big step up from the dirt and no mistake. He marched in, demanded a fresh set of clothes for the Prince's "friend" and marched out again, happy with the effect the title had taken on
the people milling about.
He decided to slow his pace on the way back, though, in case the two weren't done their 'heart to heart' yet.
* * * * * * * * *
Lucius Malfoy stood there tightening the reigns on his horse. He honestly wasn't a big fan on the beasts, especially after his father had forced him into riding one when he was eleven and he had fell and broken his ankle. Lucius had spent years staying as far away from the creatures as possible and now he had to get very near them and even ride them.
His hand went to the pure white horse's mane and he hesitantly stroked it.
"Can't be that bad of a horse now can you?"
The horse seemed to like Lucius.
"I think I'll call you Cruticius."
He was about to climb on and go for a test ride, when Pettigrew walked in. Lucius really despised him. Especially since he had the bodacity to think that Lucius Malfoy would be back at anything.
"You're kidding yourself, you know. If I have to ride horsed and joust. I'll be the best damn one there. "
Pettigrew made a comment about his sword. Lucius scowled. " .. and I know what this is." He withdrew it and pointed it candidly at Pettigrew. " I know how to use it to.. and since I'm above the law and your just a servant I don't have much to fear."
After a few moments, he dropped it and started to laugh.
" So.. if you don't mind. I think I'm going to do a practice lap around the woods. There's a spare horse if you care to join me."
Peter tacked up the other horse and climbed onboard, "Gotta keep you out of trouble....... can't let you go around chopping off people's heads..... or hitting on the girls around here" he remarked with a snicker. "Though....... I'm almost certain you could have a wife before the end of the night" he rolled his eyes, "Seeing how they married to people of higher status with no qualms......... " He urged the horse forward as Lucius started out.
Lucius laughed as he climb clumsily up to the top of his horse. He grabbed his reigns and began to trot slowly ahead. He could hear Peter behind him.
"I am certainly not going to get married tonight."
A smirk crossed his face. " I already have enough gold-diggers being shoved at me in my normal life. I won't have that here."
His eyes trailed over to Pettigrew. A light smile played on his lips.
"...You know.. if I had to get stuck with a part of Potter's group I guess it could have been worse. At least I don't have to worry about competition for any lady's with you."
Peter rolled his eyes at Lucius' remark, "That's right your *so* charming that when you walk in the room all the girls scream and run......... to bad they run *away.... from you" he stated with a lofty smirk. "Besides someday I will have a girl........ and she'll
like me for me...... and not my father's money.... You'll probably end up with some pampered brat who cares for nothing but money" he pointed out. "You are right though you're lucky you ended up with me...... because if Sirius were here.... he'd have turned you into a toad upon sight" he remarked with a smile.
* * * * * * * * *
Sirius watched with undisguised amusement as Remus started bellowing out orders in what he remembered as some very clever paraphrasing on the werewolf's part.
How had Remus Lupin ended up the crown Prince of York anyway...there was something not quite right about him being naked while Remus got to be a Prince.
Sirius snickered. Well, if whatever that tablet was that he read was placing them into positions they were most suited it was only natural he'd be paid for spinning tales and performing to an audience, and Remus was placed in a position that would put his gentle refinement...even if it was a subconscious thing on his friend's part into proper use...into proper use. Somehow Remus being a Prince seemed ideally suited for him. He could only just imagine what James had ended up as, probably a knight...yes that suited him well. Peter and Lils were going to be a surprise
e that's for sure...
He grinned at Remus, despite his haggard appearance, as the 'Prince' slung his arm around Sirius' shoulders, which Sirius cheekily copied...resisting the urge to turn around and flip off the people still gawking at the site of the Prince and the drunken rogue with arms slung over each other. As Remus led them back inside the tent, Sirius chuckled.
"Well, your Royalness...a fine mess we've gotten ourselves into it seems."