5 F I V E
Three days later, Remus felt worse than he ever had about anything. He anxiously swept his gaze over the crowds as he headed out of the city and down to the fairgrounds, but no matter how hard he looked, he still saw no sign of Ori. But it had always been Ori who had found him, and if he were in Ori's position, he'd be making damn sure Remus didn't see him.
And as he'd stupidly pointed out the night of their fight, he knew nothing about Ori that would let him find the man somewhere else. His only hope was that since Ori had admitted he was one of the marriage candidates, Remus would eventually see him somewhere on the fairgrounds.
Strictly speaking, the candidates and their families were not allowed to interact with the competitors, since it could indicate favoritism, cheating… If they got caught together, Ori would be in a world of trouble, and Remus would be disqualified. Which meant he'd have to pay back the money given to him.
So it was definitely for the best that he'd driven Ori away.
Remus still felt wretched and sick at heart about it, even three days later. He shouldn't, but he knew he shouldn't have been so closely involved with him to begin with.
When he reached the tent assigned to him, he slumped to the ground and wished the whole lousy day was already over. Hopefully today, he would finally get to do the maze. The first day they'd drawn lots, and Remus' number had been all the way at the bottom. Technically, the whole thing was supposed to run five days, but the announcers had said to show up two days early because things tended to move quickly, since as one person finished the maze, another was sent straight in.
"You've been looking rather glum for a person whose made it this far," Finley, another competitor who always wore a friendly expression, said as he greeted Remus. His dark skin common to the outer Realm cities all but glistening in the sunshine.
Remus shoved himself to his feet and mustered a grin. "Tired, sore, would rather be in bed, you know?"
"Ah, just the usual for you then." Finley shot him a wink. "I do miss home, but I'd rather win a new home that'll see me and mine never worrying over when the next meal will come. Especially after getting a glimpse of what these nobles get their hands on at all hours of the day. I've never seen so much food in one place, and that includes the annual celebrations for the winter gatherings."
"I can't fault you for that." Remus agreed absently, eyes still darting around the flowing of crowds for the familiar dark hair and bright grey eyes.
He was grateful the horns rang before the conversation could continue. He didn't want to speak to anyone other than Ori. The thought alone made his already bad mood worsen. When had he relied on anyone to keep him from going insane? The only good thing about the past two days was that he'd found time to work, get his laundry done, and join Frank with buying a few essentials for his mother from the market.
"Competitors!" One of the announcers bellowed from an inclined platform. He clapped his hands until everyone quieted. Once they'd done so, he rattled off the red starting numbers. Only twenty or so away from Remus' number. He'd be waiting a few hours, but that was better than waiting the whole day. He might actually be able to snag something to eat and find some ale and just relax in his room for the night.
The first ten shuffled off toward the enormous maze that had been constructed in the large field beside the fairgrounds. Time was marked for each person as they entered the maze, again when they reached the center, and at the end when they came out of the maze.
When everyone was finished, their times would be combined with their first and second round scores, and the top ten would be competing for the honor of marrying His Royal Highnesses Prince Sirius of the House of Black or Prince James of the House of Potter. The next fifty would compete for the six duchies, the next hundred for the seventeen earldoms, and the remaining for the fifty-four baronies.
At least it was a maze. Even Remus' foul mood cheered slightly at the thought. He'd always loved the little mazes they set up for the children during the seasonal Festivals growing up. They were one of his fondest memories, before the incident, before his father had given him up to Greyback. There hadn't been much to consider happy memories from his childhood, but the Festivals managed to linger in his mind as one. Particularly because it was one of the few days of the year he and his mother weren't expected to work and he could just play. He'd do the mazes over and over until he got hungry or someone made him stop. Had always felt a pang walking by them on his way to or from work once he'd gotten too old for such things. His mother said he must have developed some magical gene in his brain that protected his ability to sort information because he could always sort his way in or out of any maze they challenged him with.
He found a bare strip of grass and stretched out, wrapping the threadbare cloak about him to ward off the worst of the chilling morning. A couple more weeks and there'd be frost. The Tournament was not going to be fun then, but there was too much work to be done to do it any other time of the year.
If he was a fancy lord whose fate was resting on the Tournament, a lord who generally preferred to white to red wine and spoiled commoners by reading to them with gentle hands curling fondly in their hair, where would he be? Remus sighed. He'd be safely in his comfortable damned home reading to himself and forgetting completely about the ungrateful whore who'd told him to bugger off.
Remus was a fucking idiot.
He dozed for a bit, stirring whenever the horns announced another competitor had completed the challenge. He was about to go mad with waiting when they finally called his name. Practically leaping to his feet, he hastened over to the announcer, who motioned to one to the two north-facing entrances.
The clerk stationed there consulted a fancy little watch that was slowly becoming popular amongst High City folk. He marked something by Remus' name, then looked at him.
"You are not allowed to mark the paths, walls, or anything else within the maze. You are not allowed to speak to any other competitor you may encounter. When you reach the center, you will be given a flag by the officials there. I will give you a slip of paper that they will request. They'll return it with flag, and when you come out of the maze again, give both to me or another clerk. Once we've marked you, take both to the high table. If you do not emerge after two hours, you automatically fail the challenge and default to competing for the baronies. Any questions?" Remus shook his head. The clerk jotted something on a small scrap of paper and handed it to Remus. Once he'd taken it and tucked it away, the clerk said, "Begin."
The quickness of his steps matched his suddenly spiking heartbeat. Remus felt a smile tugging over his lips. He was excited. He was actually going to enjoy this.
He headed deeper into the maze, his mind already beginning to calculate and scrabble frantically to take in account his surroundings. Each turn different from the last if you didn't know to pay attention to subtle details. But Remus did.
He shouldn't care, but now that he was doing it, the desire to do well sprang to the forefront of his mind.
He went left at the first split, vaguely aware of the cawing sounds of what Remus believed to be Peacocks, if the tall feathers sticking out of the top of the bushes was any indication. Heart pounding harder, he surged onward, remembering to use his sense of smell and sound to familiarize himself with every turn, just as he had done when he learned the city as a boy.
The tantalizing smell of charred meat meant he was nearing Butcher Street. The sweet sound of melodic harp playing meant he was nearing the temple on East End, and so on and so forth. Just as the first left turn brought him to a slight clearing, the Peacock feathers and sounds filtering his ears from behind— he hurried to the opening to his right. Grinning wickedly at how well his mind seemed to be keeping up with him.
For every turn he made, he dug his fingernail into his palm or forearm, marking another sensory detail that categorized itself within the hidden folders of his mind.
How long it look him to find the center, he had no way of knowing. It felt at least an hour had passed, but hopefully, the way back would move faster.
There was a cluster of guards and clerks at the very center of the large square. One clerk snapped his fingers. "The slip of paper they gave you at the start."
Remus pulled it from his coin purse and handed it over. The clerk grunted, looked at him with something that almost seemed like approval, and said to one of the guards with an amused raised brow at Remus, "Purple."
"Really?" The guard smiled as he bent to pull a small square of purple cloth from the chest in the center of the cluster. He handed it to Remus, and the clerk handed over the slip of paper again with new markings upon it. Tucking everything away once more, Remus gave them an awkward salute and trekked back, not able to fully ignore the smirking faces of each of them as he did so.
What that was meant to mean for Remus, he had no idea. So instead of attempting to riddle that out he focused on the grooves over his forearms, retracing his path back to the entrance.
Winding up where he started in what felt like half the time, he promptly pulled out the slip of paper and purple flag and handed them over. Like the other clerks and guards at the center of the maze, she gave him a startled look, then gestured to the nearby guards. "Gold."
"Gold it is," the guard said with an easy grin and pulled a bit of dark tell cloth from the sack at his hip. "There you are. Well met, competitor."
"Thank you." Remus replied. The clerk handed him back his paper and purple flag, and Remus started off towards the tables.
The clerk there perked up same as the others. Had he done well? Or had he done so poorly that they were all laughing at his efforts? Remus couldn't tell. He wasn't sure which he preferred.
"Well done, Remus," the clerk said formally but with a sly grin
after eyeing a sheet of paper with the competitors names on it. She made a few markings near where he saw his absurdly long name written out amongst the others, most of them crossed out. Had they not shown or something?
Looking up again, the clerk said, "Report here tomorrow at the market bell, just in case everything finishes early. If it looks like the challenge will continue throughout the day, they'll send you away, and you should come again the same time the day after. If you are not here when the sorting announcement is made, you will be disqualified. The challenges will begin on thereafter and will take up all of your time for the next three months. Make certain that you tell anyone who needs to know. You will be given suitable time for rest, food, and so forth. Should you ever fail to complete a challenge, you will be immediately disqualified. Any questions?"
"No."
"Give me your left hand, then," the woman said. Remus frowned but offered his hand. She wrapped a bit of string around his finger, then made more notes by his name. "All right, you're free to go."
"Thank you." Slipping away, Remus slowly made his way back to the city, once more looking anxiously around for any signs of Ori. There was a stirring in his gut that made him want to tell Ori everything, from the excitement of the maze, to his ability to get in and out with little effort, the clerk and guards odd behavior towards him, but Remus could not spot him. Well, what had he expected? For Ori to seek him out after everything Remus had said? Remus was more likely to win the Tournament.
Not that he had forgotten what Ori had said, either. It was completely like a noble to sling around those kinds of insults the very moment they didn't get what they'd wanted.
He hadn't realized how much he'd wanted Ori to be different until he'd proven to be just like all the rest.
Remus still kept hoping they'd both been wrong and might make amend, even if they once more went their separate ways in the end.
He tried to shove the fretting over Ori aside as he reached the gates. He had plenty of other matters to worry about and also happier things to focus on. Like going to see him mother to tell her all was well for the present. He might even have penny enough to buy her some chocolate.
Yes, that was what he'd do. Buy his mother some chocolate and tell her the good news. It was too late in the day to pick up work, anyway, and Andy wasn't expecting him, so he could enjoy a few hours with his mother and then have the whole rest of the night to himself.
Heading quickly across town, he waved to Lucinda as he slipped in the back door and quickly climbed the stairs to his room. He washed his face and hands, combed his hair, then retrieved his money from its hiding place behind his bed.
All set, he hit the streets again and headed out on the long walk up Low City, bound for the common bridge. He'd almost reached the end of Raven Street when he felt rough hands from either side of him shoving him into a narrow alleyway— too narrow for him to slip by the three men blocking him into it.
Remus swore loudly. His father couldn't have possibly already fucked up so terribly so soon. As Remus glanced around at the men Remus gut sank. These weren't Greybacks gang. These men weren't familiar at all.
The man in the center sneered. "Been looking for you, you uppity little whore."
"If it's a gentlemen's company you lot are seeking, there are much cleaner places than a grimey alleyway. Also, I'm currently off duty. So if you'll excuse me—"
Remus felt a large hand shove against his chest, and his breath caught as his back slammed into the stone wall behind him. Pain burst in the back of his skull.
"I haven't done anything! Piss off!"
"You've done plenty." The man jeered, a slightly toothless smile spread over his expression as he leaned closer to Remus and lifted a boot, planting it hard down on his upper thigh. Remus grunted out as he felt the stinging of something sharp dig into the back of his leg. He struggled to keep to his feet as he glared up at the laughing men.
"The fuck do you want from me?" He grunted out. He could feel blood, hot and stick, soaking into his pants and running down his leg.
"If you know what's good for you, you'll not show up to the Tournament tomorrow, understand?"
"The Tournament—" Remus sputtered out in confusion. "That's what this is— Look, I don't give a damn about the Tournament, but if I don't show up, they'll want back the marks they gave me. I don't need the city guard coming after me anymore than I need you lot."
Suddenly a flash of a fist came from one of the other men, clocking Remus firmly across his cheek. No longer able to hold up his own weight he felt his knees begin to give as he sunk lower against the wall. Then there was a boot landing firmly in his stomach and he was completely on the ground, lungs heaving and sight blurring from the pain.
"Guess you'd better get out of it quickly, then. You ain't gone after the first challenge, you'll find yourself regretting it sorely, understand?"
Remus would have happily replied that he did, but he was too busy not being able to breath. The man gave a mean laugh, kicked his ribs again, then bent and rifled roughly through his clothes. Remus tried to push him away, but the man just swatted his hand off, slammed his face into the ground. Remus felt a knee digging into his back, further suffocating his lungs, the pressure almost unbearable. He heard himself coughing as the pressure suddenly vanished.
When he was finally able to roll over, he was alone. His coin purse stolen, his ribs bruised, head throbbing, thigh sliced—
Standing up again was far too difficult to be considered a simple task.
There went his plans to visit his mother. The last thing she needed was to see him like this. Cursing himself, he began hobbling back towards his room.
Greyback had warned him hadn't he? And wasn't that just brilliant? Greyback seemingly looking out for him. The thought twisted inside Remus like a cursed dagger that once removed would cause one to bleed out, so the only choice was to keep it there.
He wasn't unaware of the unsightly mess he made. Tears were surely crawling down his cheeks as he wrestled with every last inch of his willpower to limp home. He sniffled, every tear bringing back the burning sensation of Scorpia powder still lingering in his eyes from the fighting round.
He tried avoiding the more congested areas on his trek back. He was grateful Lucinda was no where in sight as he gingerly made his way up the stairs to his room. The climb was agonizing, each step more painful than the last.
All he wanted to do was collapse in bed and stay there, pretend he hadn't just gotten beaten and robbed. A small thought registered that he was grateful he has already paid rent.
Lowering himself to the floor, he slowly pulled off his boots and set them aside. Bracing his hands on the wall and gritting his teeth, he pulled himself back to standing and worked on peeling off his bloody breeches and trousers. Both were so drenched in blood and torn badly. Damn it. He only had three pairs and was now down to two.
He tossed the ruined clothes in a corner and slowly attempted to plash his face with water. It cooled some of the stinging pain, but he was certain not even the best healing potions could rid the aching in his thigh and ribs at that moment.
Limping over to the best, he carefully stretched out on it and pulled up his blankets. Sniffling into his pillow, he let pain and misery drag him to sleep.
When he woke it was early. Every part of him still hurt, even more than when he had laid down. He slowly sat up, wincing at the rough fabric against his injured thigh. Sitting would obviously be a fun endeavor for the next several days. He shouldn't have been so quick to give away those potions Ori had given him.
A different hurt entirely flared in his chest at the reminder of Ori, settled there amongst the many bruises. Remus stared at the little book and charm lying on the floor next to his bed. He'd barely paid either any mind since the night Ori had given them to him, but in the past few days, they'd been a constant reminder of the words he'd give anything to take back.
He bent over and picked up the objects, ran his thumb over the already-flaking paint on the cheap little charm. The lion's head oddly still well kept. Setting it on his pillow, he traced the fancy letting on the cover of Ori's book.
Curious and grateful for any distraction from the pain, Remus flipped the book open, frowning when it stuck and wouldn't open. He ran his finger along the pages and paused when his fingertips met a metal clasp. The book locked? Why would Ori give him a locked book…?
He pulled the tiny latch open with his nail and then it opened, and he dropped it in shock, sending pennies rolling and scattering over the floor.
Disregarding the pain, Remus went around the room retrieving them, wincing and swearing the whole time. When he was finally done, he resumed sitting on the bed and carefully put al the pennies back in their slots. The books as a book at all, but contained two 'pages' filled with special little slots meant to hold pennies. The slots were too small and shallow to hold any other coin. All together, Remus counted twenty-four pennies— one short of a shilling.
It was more than he'd ever had at once that he got to keep. And Ori had given it to him— designed this book, specifically for him— why?
Guilt continued to fester in his bones. Fuck it all. He was meant to be grateful to be rid of the damned distraction. He was rid of him for good reason, wasn't he? Look how Ori had turned at the end. It just confirmed that Remus had done the right thing. If he'd let it continue, let himself get attached— how much worse would it had been? He ignored the obvious heavy weight that clearly stated he had already gotten too attached, and decided he was better off. He didn't want his pity and he certainly didn't want to be the plaything of some fancy lord.
It didn't matter why Ori had given him the money. Twenty-four pennies was nothing to someone like Ori. For fuck's sake, he'd left an entire mark on his pillow their night together.
A night where he'd done nothing but given Remus food and wine and read to him. Remus sighed and set the book aside, standing to get dressed as the morning prayer bell tolled. He only had about an hour to get to the fairground, and he'd just barely make it, given how slow he was moving.
When he finally reached the fairgrounds, being jostled by the crowds only deepening his frustrations and aching, he resisted the temptation to sit down. If he did that, he wasn't certain he'd be able to get back up. Given the maze was gone and a stage had been set up in front of the stands, clearly the sorting challenge was over, and they'd be announcing the sorting that day.
Instead, he simply found a bit of empty space where he could see most everyone coming toward him, and tried not to jump every time he heard footsteps close behind him. It was foolish really, being this timid. The muggers that accosted him the night prior wouldn't do so again so soon, nor in broad daylight.
The back of his thigh felt hot and stick, which meant his only other pair of everyday breeches was ruined. The last of his breeches being his best temple wear. There was nothing to be done for it. At least they were dark enough that the blood would probably go unnoticed.
As he waited the simmering thoughts that he hadn't allowed himself to think about began to surface. Why? Why was someone threatened by his placement in the Tournament out off all the others? He was no one. One of hundreds. Who cared if he competed to marry the third daughter of earl number fourteen? It wasn't like he would have succeeded in doing so anyway, the way everything was rigged. As he glanced around the crowd of the competitors now he was reminded of such things. Even the laziest of idiots could pick the false peasants out of the crowd. Nothing stood out like a deathly person trying to pretend they'd grown up poor.
Why beat him up over a matter that had been settled years ago?
Whatever, it didn't matter. They weren't telling him to do anything he hadn't been planning to do already. That didn't keep him from stewing over the question incessantly anyway, and acerbating his foul mood.
Nothing ever sounded sweeter than the trumpets signaling the beginning of the official sorting.
A man sharply dressed approached the stage and held the tip of something to his throat, projecting his voice louder than Remus had ever heard. "Competitors," he announced, rearranging his blue and purple robes, lined in a golden trim, marking him as the head of the Tournament. His long greying beard moved with every word. "Welcome and challenge well met. Congratulations to you!" He turned to his right and said, "Honored nobles, be most welcome! Your Most Royal Majesties, we are most honored by your presence."
Remus swallowed and turned to look to the top, hidden behind then, gauzy material to retain some of their privacy and safety, were both the King and Queen of both the House of Black and Potter. There were other's seated around them, most likely the whole royal family. Remus had been so lost in thought that he hadn't noticed, but now he felt insignificantly small.
The nobles seated in the rows below the highest platform were a mass of rich, vibrant colors and the occasional flash of gold and jewels. Now that he was paying attention, Remus could smell snatches of the perfume on the air, succulent food piled on tables before them— food he'd never be able to afford even with nearly a whole shilling to his name.
And for the competitors… nothing.
If this went on long enough, they might hand out ale, bread, and cheese like they had the other day. How typical of the nobles to feed themselves well but give scraps to those toiling away on their behalf. Remus curled his lip and turned away in disgust.
"Competitors, first we will call the names for those competing for the honor of marrying into the family of our most honorable Earls. As your name is called, please come to the stage to collect you competitor ring and return to your place once you have it."
Remus sighed as they began reading out the names of the one hundred people competing for the earldoms, his mind drifting right back to fretting hisself to death, until a horn sounded again, and they moved on the the duchies. At least there were only six of those, though it still took some time list off the fifty qualifying competitors.
Could he just leave? No, they probably had rings for the three hundred-odd competing for the baronies, so he'd have to remain to collect his once they were done with the others.
When they finally finished the duchies, he was cranky and in pain enough to want to cry, and would it really be all that difficult to pass around ale or tea of something?
At last the elderly Tournament organizer, Dumbledore, Remus thought he announced himself as earlier in the Tournament, raised his arms in anticipation before announcing, "And now, honored guests and brave competitors, we announce the ten remarkable chosen who will be competing for the incomparable honor of marrying His Most Royal Highness Prince Sirius of the most Noble House of Black."
Remus huffed, shoulders slumping with fatigue and pain. Ten names. He could make it through ten more names and shuffling through a long line to get his stupid ring.
"Cedric Dearborne." The announcer cried, and a lean man sauntered nervously onto the stage, smiling gradually at the clerk handing out the rings. Then the next name, "Heather Tetherling."
A small smattering of cheers rang out as a beautiful woman swept across the stage, giving an elegant bow fit for a princess.
"Sarie Thatcher! Evelyn Lancaster!" Two more women climbed the stage. "Fredrick Roul. Edward Kent." Two more men and then, "Lucius Malfoy!"
Remus watched as the crowd seemed to cheer even louder. He glanced at where the palest shade of blond hair began to reveal itself on stage. The tall, lean, and utterly handsome man sauntered onto the stage, one fo those Remus had picked out earlier as not-actually-poor-and-probably-one-title-away-from-being-a-noble. The pleased, smug look over taking his striking features was one of little surprise, which only confirmed Remus' suspicions.
He winced as someone bumped into his shoulder in their excited. Fuck it all, he just wanted the damned day to be over already.
"Romtayen Remus Romulus Lupin!"
Remus's breath stopped.
What?
He stared wide-eyed at the stage, certain he must have misheard.
But how could he? Who else had a name so ridiculous as his?
Then someone— Arthur— hissed his name and came rushing over, gave him gentle shove forward.
Swallowing, trying to get his lungs to function properly again, Remus walked on trembling legs to the stage. A guard smiled warmly, clapped him on the shoulder as he struggled up the small steps and onto the stage. His stomach flipped as another clerk guided him to accept his competitors ring.
Remus took it, saw his name and a strange mark inscribed on the inside. The outside was decorated with swirling, curling lines— his insides turned out as he seemed to recognize one in particular. Hadn't he seen something similar on Oir's hands, on the intricate tattoo there? He realized he had been standing there frozen in shock, starring at the ring for longer than necessary when he felt the clerk gently nudge him to move for the next competitor waiting behind him.
Slowly, he shook himself, inhaling a shaky breath as he still waited for reality to catch up to him. It wasn't until his gaze found the glaring stare of the handsome man with long flowing pale blonde braids that he felt as if he was going to faint. He, that man, the man he had already forgotten the name of our to lack of oxygen to his brain at the moment probably, he belonged on this stage-- competing for the Royal family. Not Remus. Oh fuck, he was definitely swaying on his feet. He gathered his breath quickly, shaking his head slightly and then wincing in pain because— yes that's right, he had been mugged only hours ago and now he was going to be competing to become apart of the Royal fucking family—
It wasn't until he felt his feet hit dirt that he began to move faster than he had been able to since being beaten up. He hurried away as quickly as he could, ignoring everyone who called after him, pushing his way through the crowd even though doing so only made his pain increase tenfold. He felt numb though, at the same time, certain he was going to be sick the moment his mind was able to catch up to everything.
And sure enough, the moment he pressed past the last of the crowds and jogged off to a side alleyway, he doubled over and emptied what little remained in his stomach form the last time he ate.
Remus lowered himself to the grass when there was nothing left to heave up. Stomach hurting anew form the unpleasant treatment, sweat drying tacky on his skin, entire body throwing with pain, and his thigh hot from abuse and strain. He couldn't be more miserable.
How had it come to this? He didn't want to marry a damned prince. He didn't want to marry anyone.
Even if he did, there was nobody in the world who wanted to marry him. Not with his past. Not with what he was. Didn't they know he was a monster as well as a whore? Surely they did. How could they possibly let someone like him so close to becoming a possible marriage option for the Royal family?
Drawing his knees up, Remus folded his arms across them and buried his head in his arms, focused on breathing and calming down and not succumbing to the urge to start screaming.
"Remus?"
The voice was a kick in the gut far more brutal than the two he'd received last night. Remus lifted his head, slightly hoping his mind was playing tricks on him, making him hear the only sound that he truly wanted to hear despite everything.
Hope shattered like an egg dropping on cobblestone as he stared up at Ori's stupid, handsome face.
