A/N: Thank you to lanamarymack for alpha/beta reading this chapter. Would love to hear what you think!
It took Remus a while to determine that he'd definitely been transported somewhere else. It was difficult to pinpoint where because he was a little bit tipsy and the alcohol had dulled his normally sharp werewolf senses. Everything smelled like books, which was odd, because from looking around he could clearly see he was outdoors.
From the scene around him it appeared that he'd been in some sort of battle, if the large sword in his hand was anything to judge by. It was heavy and looked to be covered in blood, though his nose didn't pick up the telltale metallic sting that usually accompanied blood. Unsure of what he should do with himself, Remus decided to clean the blade off, just to keep suspicion off of him.
He tried a bit of wandless magic - normally he was quite good at accomplishing small spells wandlessly - but he wasn't able to get it to work. Sighing, he figured he must be a little too drunk...or maybe it was just due to being wherever he was.
Merlin, he wished he hadn't listened to Sirius at the pub. Why had he listened to his friend? They just had to go bother Hermione while she was enjoying her night in. He just had to know what she was reading, egged on by Sirius's insistence that she was reading romance novels. He just had to see if it was true. He couldn't help but slake his curiosity, wanting to know what things made Hermione tick.
Of course, he knew that she had been up to something in the library because he could always catch the tantalizing scent of her lust. The smell would become progressively more heady and delicious the longer she was in the library. Godric, it was enough to make him want to press his nose up against her center and inhale like some kind of bloody dog.
Or werewolf, maybe.
But he didn't know what had possessed him that night, pressing him to learn the truth once and for all what she was up to exactly. Well, that wasn't wholly true. He knew it was at least partially the alcohol that had finally given him the courage...the permission to find out.
And now he'd been transported to here! To some weird sort of world, where he had no magic apparently and everything smelled like books! To a strange place where he wore furs and armor and carried a long sword. He felt absolutely ridiculous.
He also felt awful for Hermione...Just where had she gone off to? She had been truly annoyed when they had returned from the pub and started needling her for information, invading her quiet space. They just hadn't been able to leave well enough alone - they had to keep pressing. And he'd just had to reach over her shoulder and pluck her book out of her hands.
Remus would be very surprised if she even talked to him again in a month! He wouldn't want to talk to someone after they'd kept badgering her for details about something that she was clearly embarrassed about, judging by the pretty pink flush she'd had on her cheeks.
Not that she had any reason to be embarrassed about reading that sort of book, though. Sirius had been right that loads of witches and wizards read them. Reading or thinking about sex was perfectly natural. But, he could understand that she would be embarrassed to discuss it with four lumbering, drunk wizards! That was completely fair, in his opinion.
Before he could think on it much more, his sword was cleaned thanks to a bit of cloth he found in his pocket. He had nothing else to do but stand and casually look around the field. The sun was just coming up over the hill, bathing the Earth in its pale pink rays. A breeze that felt distinctly artificial ruffled his hair. They were next to some water, a cluster of boats pulled up onto the shore of what he thought was a large, still river.
Someone who looked distinctly like Ronald Weasley came jogging up to him with a grin. "We were able to take a considerable amount of gold and jewelry from the castle," he announced. "We should be able to leave shortly."
Remus didn't know what to say. Why was Ron reporting to him? Was Remus in charge around here? Trying not to seem like he was completely clueless, Remus nodded. "Good. Shall we...return to the ship?" he offered. "I want to see the treasure before we load it."
Ron readily agreed and they walked back to the ship in a short amount of time. He hoped that he'd be able to find Hermione soon. Maybe she was on the boat? Though, looking around, he couldn't imagine that she would be there. He'd seen only a small handful of women. He walked onto the grandest of the ships, trying to get his bearings and keeping his eyes peeled for a glimpse of the curly haired witch.
To his surprise, it didn't take long for Hermione to appear. He just couldn't believe that she was brought to him by Sirius of all people, being carried over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. There was no denying that she was here - Remus would recognize her scent anywhere. But, she was also the only one who actually smelled like she should. Still a bit drunk, Remus wished that he could pull her to him to bury his face in her hair and inhale.
Hermione huffed when Sirius put her down, trying to smooth her dress. But no amount of pulling could make the pink gown cover her the way that she wanted. The corset was absurd, showing off a delightful amount of cleavage that Remus was hard pressed to ignore. Godric, she was so beautiful.
He almost couldn't control himself when Sirius wrapped an arm around her shoulders, arguing with Ron about how he was going to keep Hermione as his wench. He was overcome with the dark desire to have her arse pressed flush against his body instead of Sirius's. He hoped that no one noticed the way that he was reacting to her, watching her squirm to get away from his lascivious friend.
She looked pleased when he commanded that no one should touch her and that they would ransom her back to her family, finally getting free from Sirius's grasp.
But then, he was struck that she was rather pleased not to be claimed by him either, as if that had ever been an option in the first place. He was in charge in...whatever this world was. He could claim her as his own, if he wanted. But she'd made it so painfully clear that she wasn't interested in him in any way.
Suddenly, Remus was angry, so irrationally angry, that he'd been put into such an embarrassing situation as this. If Hermione had just been honest with them about what she'd been reading, none of this would have happened. Annoyed he gave Hermione a mean look that had her staring back at him in confusion.
That just made him angrier. She was likely scared to death of him right now and all he could think about was how incredibly possessive he felt over her, not wanting any other man touching his Hermione, as if he had any sort of claim over her to speak of. He was upset with himself for having absolutely no control and mad at her for getting them into this situation. He was mad at her for not wanting him back, the way that he so desperately wanted her.
Remus couldn't face her eyes now, not when the alcohol was still coursing through his veins, so he ordered Sirius to keep her safe. Even when she tried to talk to him, he waved her away. "Not now, Hermione. We'll talk later," he promised, unable to hide his annoyance any longer.
He needed to get away from her and her scent before he did something stupid, like try to kiss her. Later, when he was fully sober, he would try to face her again.
Even though he sobered up after a night on the upper deck, the blistering cold winds penetrating his loose wolfskin cloak as they sailed their way up the coast, Remus still couldn't bring himself to talk to Hermione again. He avoided the hold of the ship where he knew she was being kept all day, until the sun went down again.
It wasn't until Sirius ordered him to bring their captive dinner, saying that he had chores of his own to do, that Remus finally decided to face the music. Taking some hard bread and cheese with him, he descended below deck, finding Hermione eventually in the only cabin. The boat was well laden with treasure, the best of which seemed to be stored in the same room.
When he opened the door and walked in Hermione stood immediately, nostrils flaring. "Oh for Merlin's sake, now you come see me?" she practically snarled. "I can't believe you just shoved me away down here all day without even speaking to me!"
Remus frowned. "I'm sorry, Hermione, that wasn't very...nice of me," he conceded. "I've been trying to figure out where we are exactly. I haven't figured it out, but I think that I am somewhat in charge around here. This whole place doesn't feel right, though," he told her, the lack of sensory information in their new world making his skin crawl.
She pressed her hands to her hips, her breasts sticking out thanks again to that blasted corset. "Didn't you ever wonder if I had the answer?" she demanded.
He started to argue, only to stop when the words actually registered in his mind. He'd used some historical clues to try to piece together where they were and if he had to guess he'd say they were in some long ago time when vikings lived - though he couldn't tell if they were supposed to be Danes or Norse. "What?" he asked.
"I know where we are," she said, confidently.
"What?" he practically snarled. "Why didn't you tell me then?"
"I tried to earlier, before you sent me off to the hold like some kind of contraband!" Hermione argued back. "And you didn't even stop to check on me once! How was I supposed to tell you?"
He supposed that was fair. "Well, tell me, then. Where are we?" he asked, annoyed with her and annoyed with himself for wasting so much time avoiding her. Maybe they would already be back at Grimmauld Place if he hadn't been so stubborn.
Her pink tongue darted out to wet her lower lip, as she did when she was nervous. "I think...we're in a book...well, the book I was reading," she explained, her cheeks going bright red. "It must have been one of those couple's romance novels from the seventies. When we touched it at the same time, we got sucked into it."
Suddenly, Remus's mouth went very dry at the thought of being in a romance novel with Hermione. "Well, what is the book?" he asked, both dreading and longing for the answer.
"It's called the Viking's Maiden. It's about a Scottish princess who gets kidnapped by vikings during a raid," she explained.
Remus waved his hand up and down in front of her body. "And what about this then?" he asked, referring to her dress and the previously mentioned corset. He was doing a very poor job of not staring at her enticing cleavage which was still well on display. "Not really historically accurate," he said, feeling like he might choke on the words.
"Well, I wasn't reading it for its historical accuracy," Hermione countered with a hiss, crossing her arms over her chest and doing absolutely nothing to help the situation.
"Godric, if you had just admitted to reading bodice rippers like this, then we wouldn't be in this mess," Remus groaned. He didn't want to be trapped here with Hermione as his only companion, constantly reminding him how delectable she was. Especially when he knew she'd probably pick any wizard other than him to share the story with.
"Well, if you hadn't been so nosy, we wouldn't be in this mess either!" she insisted.
He rubbed a hand over his face, completely missing the appraising look that she was giving his body. "How do we get out of this mess?" he finally asked. "Is there some sort of safe word?"
"I think we are just going to have to...act out the plot. Until the end of the book?" Hermione said hesitantly, sitting down on the little bed in the corner of the room.
"And what happens in the plot?" he wondered, hoping to hide his reaction to seeing her sit on the bed. He knew what happened in these kind of books - his mind was only too happy to supply a bit of imagination - but he perversely wanted to hear Hermione say the words.
To his disappointment, she just shrugged. "I don't know," she said, looking genuinely disappointed. "I'd only gotten through the first two chapters."