Chapter Thirteen: Reflections in the Dark of Night
Steven lugged the heavy box of picture frames back into the house through the back door and on into the front of the shop where his boss waited for them.
Mrs. Trevalleyn turned at his entrance and smiled at him. "Goodness, Steven. I thought I was going to have to send out a search party for you. You've been gone such a long time. Weren't they where I thought they were? That barn is a dreadful mess, I know. I keep meaning to get in there and clean it out, but it's hard to find the time and the energy."
Steven found himself biting back a sharp retort. Unkind comments did seem to fly easily to his tongue, but it wouldn't do to insult this woman who'd been so good to him. At least not before he was better prepared to manage on his own.
Deciding to be diplomatic, he gave her a small smile and stated. "The box was rather well hidden. It turned up under the workbench in a dark corner covered by a length of canvas."
She nodded. "Oh well, I knew they were somewhere near the workbench. Put them down on the counter there." She waved a hand vaguely at the counter next to her cash register.
Obediently he complied with her request, happy to be rid of them. As he set the box down on the counter, he offered. "I'd be more than willing to reorganize the barn for you. There are a lot of useful things in there. If it was better organized, you'd be able to find whatever you needed much more easily."
And I wouldn't have to waste so much time when you send me on yet another fruitless search for something, he thought sardonically.
The shopkeeper crossed the room to where he was standing, on her way to look in the box, and smiled happily at him. "I'd really appreciate you're help with that, Steven. Thank you. The mess in that barn has simply gotten too overwhelming for an old lady like me. That's why I need someone young and strong like you to help me manage things. Now, let's see what's in this box, eh?"
Once he'd relinquished the box she started to paw through it pulling out one or two frames to consider them critically. "These might do." She mused.
Turning to him with another warm smile she said, "Come tell me what you think of these."
She led him across the room through the maze of stuff to a small table in a corner, which contained two paintings. Both of them seascapes of uncommon beauty and liveliness. A strange feeling came over him as he gazed down at the paintings. There was a sense of familiarity about them, although he couldn't ever remember seeing them before. Not exactly a surprise.
"What do you think of them?" His boss turned to him avidly seeking his opinion. It was apparent from her manner that she liked them very much.
"They're wonderful. Did you paint them?" He turned to consider her quizzically.
Mrs. Trevalleyn laughed a pleasant laugh. "Good heavens no! The very idea. These were done by a local girl who's been letting me sell them for her on commission. I can hardly keep her work in stock. These are the last two I have. I hope she'll have some more for me after Christmas. Every piece she's given to me is as lovely as these two. They sell like hotcakes! I wish I had 10 artists like her letting me sell their wares. I could retire a happy woman, believe me."
Steven's eyes fell on the initials in the corner of the painting. E. W. S. Slowly he extended a finger and delicately caressed the letters. "What's her name?" He whispered not knowing why it should matter, but suddenly it did…very much.
"Evelyn Severe." She shot him a sharp look. "Does it sound familiar to you? Do you think you know her?"
Regretfully he shook his head. "No. The name doesn't sound familiar." That didn't have to mean anything really, considering the current state of his memory. He found it hard to take his eyes off the paintings. Something about them drew him in and gave him a comfortable settled feeling. There was one thing that seemed odd about them, though. Why on earth did he expect the waves to move and the ships to sail?
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Remus Lupin gazed down at the naked woman sleeping peacefully in his arms and smiled happily. He thought his heart might burst from the sheer joy of everything. Never in his life had he felt so completely happy and content. Here he was lying in a comfortable bed listening to the wind blow cold rain against the side of the cottage while the woman of his dreams slept comfortably in his arms. If he wasn't fully occupied with holding her against him he'd pinch himself to be sure this wasn't just one more wonderful dream.
He looked around the room in the soft candlelight and his eyes alighted on the painting at the foot of the bed. A very nice, unanimated painting of a house elf hung there on the wall looking inoffensively back at him. Another smile lit his face, this one with just the tiniest touch of malice in it.
Thank goodness, she'd gotten rid of the portrait of Snape. A small part of him might have felt a bit smug to be the one in Evangeline's arms while the painting stared down at them, but the greater part of him would have felt as uncomfortable as hell. It would have been like having a disapproving Severus in bed with them frowning at his every move. Making cutting remarks about his sexual technique. Oh, yes, that would have been loads of fun.
Wherever she'd put that painting, it was infinitely preferable to having it here in the bedroom. He was here now, and he intended to stay. She didn't need any more reminders of past loves. If he was ever to have even the tiniest chance of making her forget about Severus, he needed to be the only image in her eyes here in the intimacy of her bedroom. His eyes drifted down to look at her once more. He could feel his intense desire for her rising up inside of him again, making him hard, and impatient to love her once more. Now that he finally had the opportunity, all he wanted to do was make love to her…over and over again.
Slowly he began to caress her smooth skin gently with his hand. First he delicately stroked her face, then her shoulders then he dropped his hand to softly trace a line down her chest to slowly circle her full ripe breast, which he then clasped gently and began to stroke with slightly more insistence, brushing his thumb against the hardening nipple. She moaned softly and moved her head against his shoulder, caressing him with her hair, and slid a leg intimately over his own as she cuddled closer to him, driving him to further heights of desire.
Remus bent and kissed her softly on the lips murmuring her name like a benediction. As she moaned again, he moved down to suckle at her breast as his hands moved lower stroking gently over her stomach and back, fondling her firm derriere, trailing up along her soft inner thigh, and then dipping between her legs to caress her more intimately as her body began to respond to his touch. She gasped as his attentions brought her back to consciousness, grabbing at him with her hands and stiffening slightly in his arms.
He raised his head from her breast to stare down into her eyes. Hers held a frightened slightly vacant look for a moment, then they seemed to focus on his, and she relaxed in his embrace as her mind grasped the reality of what was happening to her.
She sighed softly. "Oh, Remus. You really know how to get someone's attention."
That brought a gentle smile to his face. "I'm sorry. I know I probably shouldn't have awakened you, but the sight of you in my arms was simply too difficult to ignore any longer. I've longed for this for so long that to finally have it become reality is overwhelming to me." He stroked her face softly with gentle fingertips. "I really love you so much, Angel."
She smiled quietly back and murmured. "I know."
He held her tightly against him, rejoicing in the feeling of her naked body pressed warmly up against his own, and buried his face in her soft hair as she sighed and tears glistened briefly in her eyes before she closed them tightly and tried very hard to lose herself in his loving embrace.
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Steven tossed and turned in his narrow bed in the small apartment over the barn. He finally gave up in disgust and threw his long legs over the side of the bed as he sat up and sighed deeply. Sleep was eluding him yet again. What a surprise! He paused and listened to the cold rain as it lashed with vigor against the side of the building, tapping at the window, and skittering across the roof like an army of rats.
The frustrated man got to his feet and crossed the dark room to his dresser. By the faint gleam that was reflecting in the window from the light outside in the yard, he could see the glass tumbler and the bottle of whisky that sat forlornly on its surface. He grasped the bottle firmly, twisted off the cap, and poured a generous dram into the glass. Then he closed the bottle and took the glass up in his hand. Contemplating it for a moment, he then brought it to his lips took a long slow drink and let the strong malt liquor burn a warm path down the inside of his cold throat. With a deep sigh he wandered over to the window and idly watched the water trail down the glass in entwining rivulets that twisted and changed with each passing moment.
Question after ceaseless question hammered through his tired brain. He was so overwhelmingly sick of the whole thing. Who the hell was he? Why couldn't he remember? Why had he been a prisoner? Who wanted to torture him? Why? Why? Why? How could he ever find the answers? God, he just wanted the questions to shut up and go away!
Then there was the most pressing and all consuming question of all. The one that drove him from his bed to drink and ponder the unknown so intensely. Who was she, this Angel that haunted his dreams and his waking moments with equal clarity? Every time he closed his eyes all he saw was her face. Why? More and more memories of her were finding their way to the surface of his mind. They'd definitely been intimately involved in some manner. With startling clarity, he could feel her soft smooth skin beneath his touch. His fingers twitched and his palms itched with the memory. He could feel the softness of her thick hair as he'd run his hands through it, smell its clean fragrance like warm roses as he'd buried his face in it. Memories of the warmth of her body warmed his own as he lay in his lonely bed.
Her image came to him in his dreams and teased him with her smile and her kisses and her lovely body and a gentle laugh that rang through his mind like the low whisper of music, but when she spoke to him, murmured his name, the sound vanished into the ether like smoke. He couldn't hear her voice or understand her words no matter how he tried. Always he awakened from these maddening dreams frustrated and in pain so deep that it almost burned his soul.
Who was she? Where was she? Was she out there somewhere looking out of a window as he was and wondering about him? Did she miss him? Was he possibly as important to her as he believed that she had been to him? Would he ever know?
Not tonight. He shook his head in disgust.
Slowly he downed the last of the whisky and setting the glass back down on the dresser with a thump of annoyance, he re-crossed the room, and dropped down onto the bed. Once there he threw his arm carelessly over his eyes, and uselessly wished once more for sleep and enlightenment.
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Author's Notes: Once again, most of the reviews of this chapter seem to have vanished into the ether so if I've missed responding to any of you, I'm sorry. I really wish fanfiction could get its act together concerning its reviews!
SevyHero: The fur will fly when Snape returns.
P. Veronica Tyler: Remus is blissfully happy for the next few chapters…let's just let the man enjoy it, shall we? :) I'm glad you got the e-mail.
AlphaWolf: Well, yes…I'd say that Snape's return will be angsty and full of difficult questions. Thanks for your kind comments. I'm glad you are enjoying the story.
Jezebel: I'm sorry that you find it hard to read about Remus and Evangeline being together, but I'm glad you intend to continue reading. Don't feel too sorry that Severus has lost his memory. His real ordeal begins when he gets it back.
Sage and Snape: Oh, yes…Evangeline has no difficulty recognizing Severus when she sees him again…believing that he's alive, though, well that's something else again. :)
Elbereth94: Hmm…maybe. Certainly another no win situation that one. However, Guenevere's true love was Lancelot, the lover, not her husband Arthur, no matter how much she wanted to love him. I'm glad to know you got the e-mail. I'm such a techno-idiot I'm always a bit amazed when it works the way it's supposed to. :)
Kazza: Hello there! I'm pleased to see you're still reading. I thought you might've been one of those who preferred to stick with the happily ever after scenario and decided to give this one a pass. :) I'm glad to hear that you think the story flows well. Sometimes that's a lot easier to tell if you read several chapters consecutively. There's definitely some major angst to come for all. Just a couple more chapters before the fireworks begin.
Jtyw: My dialogue does tend to be a bit formal…sorry it bothers you.
Becca: Yes, that chapter will be full of fireworks. :)
Snapefan51: How nice to hear from you again. :) Thanks so much for your kind words. I'm glad you're enjoying the story. Sadly devastation is probably a good word for what lies ahead.
Lina Lupin: Try not to worry about the future. These few chapters are my "be kind to Remus" chapters. Let's let the man enjoy himself for once! I can ask Minerva, but there are only so many house elves to hand out, and I made her promise that I could have the next one. :)