InsaneJournal

                In the gentle morning sunlight, Severus lay on his side, tracing patterns in the hair over Remus's chest. He flinched when Remus's eyes opened and their blue depths surrounded him. He drew his hand away, but the Beast caught it before it got very far. "Nothing's stopping you," he rumbled softly, repeating the words Severus had used the day before.

                Severus paused for a moment, then buried his face in Lupin's chest, inhaling the scent of the shampoo.

                "Do you like rather hirsute men, Severus?" Remus teased, running fingertips along Severus's pale back.

                Severus pulled away to look into his eyes and speak. "Perhaps. But what I really like now is bathing. Continue to join me when I have to do it, and I'll not complain to a scrub brush again."

                Remus smiled softly. He'd been afraid they'd gone about doing things all wrong. He didn't really know what he was doing, truth be told, when it came to being with another boy. He twined his fingers in the soft, black hair. "I'll try for as long as you let me, Severus" said Remus, hardly breathing.

                "My prince," said Severus after a moment, running fingers through the hair of Remus's cheek, stroking his furry ear.

                Remus held out an arm and Severus settled himself in closer, wrapped in Remus's embrace.

                The next time he looked at his tree, just after New Year's, Remus couldn't help but notice that it had sprouted blossoms. His heart started pounding in his chest as he stared at it.

                "They're so pretty," said Severus, moving toward the tree.

                "No! Don't touch it!" said Remus, running over to stand in front of Severus, holding him close. "You could make one fall off."

                "What?"

                "If those blossoms all fall off the willow tree, Severus, I'm done for. An ax may as well have chopped the tree to bits."

                "So they're not just pretty. They're deadly."

                Yes, thought Remus. Love was deadly.

                He spent a while trying to find where he'd tossed the poem that had told him of the curse and of his fate. Eventually, he found it, though, and his breath caught at the words.

"When love's blossoms start to bloom

Marriage will stop impending doom:

Nothing short of it will work

To stop the way that death does lurk.

Petal blossoms fall away

If love does not end in that way.

And if the loved one leaves his side,

He'll die of heartache for the bride."

                He supposed Severus would suffice as the bride. Now all he had to do was propose and figure out a way for them to get married—if Severus didn't kill him for his forwardness first. He supposed the most important issue would be whether or not Severus would accept the proposal. Forget heartache after his "bride" was away for a while. He would die of heartache if Severus didn't accept!

The next morning he rose early and dressed in his very nicest clothing. He bathed Severus gently when he awoke, making sure the dark-haired boy enjoyed his ministrations immensely. Even if Remus didn't touch him like he had the time before, Severus felt prized again. Remus dressed Severus himself, sensuously, in a rich, dark purple, the hardest color of all to create, even with magic.

                "You look very stunning, Severus," he said as Severus looked himself over in the mirror with a frown.

                "I look like a farmer's son playing dress-up."

                Remus shook his head. "No, you look perfect." Severus scoffed. "If anyone is playing dress-up here, it's me." He tickled the hair on his chin and twitched his ears, making Severus smile. "I look much more like a wolf than like royalty."

                "Very good point," said Severus, reaching out to trace one of the ears. "But you're a prince underneath."

                "A lonely prince," he reminded Severus. Severus scowled at him. "I have to talk with you," Remus said, and led him down to the dining hall.

                "What is it?" he asked over dinner. "What do you have to speak with me about?"

                "All in good time," said Remus.

                In the garden, they walked about together.

                "Oh look," said Severus, pointing to the tree. "Your life-force is . . . well, it's losing its petals." He gave Remus a worried glance.

                "Yes," said Remus quietly. "In fact, that's what I wanted to discuss with you."

                "What is it?" said Severus. "Are you going to die?" As he voiced this concern, he felt his throat constrict.

                "I have a chance to go on living," said the Beast, looking away from the other boy.

                "Whatever it is, do it."

                "I believe it requires your permission," said Remus.

                Severus raised an eyebrow, so Remus went on. "Well, I never even imagined I'd have this sort of a problem to deal with," he said with an affectionate glance at the tree, reaching for Severus's hand. He pulled the poem out of his pocket and read the eight lines about love to him, leaving him stunned.

                "So you see," said Remus, "I need to get married."

                Severus felt numb all of a sudden. "Yes. Yes, of course you do. You can't die on my account."

                "Great!" said Remus, replacing the paper in his pocket. Then he paused. "Where are you going, Severus? Don't you want to help me plan?"

                "It's not my place to do so," said Severus curtly as he headed for his room.

                Remus frowned to himself. Not his place? Was the man bloody daft? Of course it was his place. He was the bride! Remus moved to the door of Severus's bedroom and knocked on it.

                "I'll see you tomorrow," said Severus.

                "But, Severus . . . ."

                "Tomorrow!"

                No amount of pleading after that could convince Severus to let Remus in. For someone who was about to be married, he sure felt alone. He went off to bed, feeling rather defeated underneath his slight elation.

                They never did see each other the next day, however. Severus made sure of that. In the middle of the night, he rose from his bed. He had not undressed, having planned what he was going to do. There was a tight feeling in his chest. How on earth could he have expected the prince to feel about him the way he now felt about the prince? He shuddered as he left the castle door and stepped into the night air.

                He supposed he should be happy that the Beast was going to be able to live once he got married. All he felt was jealousy and guilt. He felt guilty about the fact he had caused the blossoms to form. He was evil.

                The simple fact of the matter was that he was a male. He had a penis. He had neither breasts nor a vaginal opening. He could not have children. He was not supposed to be with another male. He could not live as Remus's official lover. Remus probably did not want him anyway. It was his fault alone that the tree was killing Remus. If only he hadn't tempted the other boy into the tub, the tree would not have had to call Remus on the lewd behavior in such a deadly fashion. He was more a murderer than Remus would ever be.

                Severus felt sick as he picked apart layer after layer of the spell on the gap in the wall. With one last glance at the castle, he moved away into the cutting darkness of the forest, feeling emptier than he had in his entire lifetime.

                Remus had assumed that Severus was just avoiding him. A little early for pre-wedding jitters, he thought, but ah well. He hummed to himself as he ate and as he tended to the garden himself, eying the tree that would soon stop losing its petals. He was on top of the world, or so he thought. Until, that is, he realized Severus was not even on the premises.

                What kind of a cruel, vindictive turn had fate taken now? To give him the world and then take it back like a dishonest peddler. If he could only spend the rest of his miserable existence in the tub, remembering Severus, or in the rain, or the snow, in Severus's room, or even in the library, he would do it. But he knew the only room he would be occupying for the foreseeable future would be the Mirror Room.

                His heart was thrumming with the sad, true indignity of it all. He was in love with someone who could not share his feelings, or at least that was what he now presumed. It had seemed they must be in love, for "love's blossoms" to bloom, but maybe the flowers were brought about simply by the fact that he himself was in love and were no indication of Severus's feelings at all.

                After all, Severus had been little more than a prisoner since the day he'd arrived. Remus had had an obsession with the boy, before the castle, probably since Severus had been a meager five years old. The obsession had changed over the years from curiosity, to care, to lust-tinged affection. Severus hadn't liked his lust-tinged affection. He had just been pretending so that Remus wouldn't eat him. Now Remus wished he had done so after all, no matter that he wasn't particularly cannibalistic. He squished a dropped petal under the toe of his boot.