Stardust

In The Burrow
by Eiluned

Archive: Please ask first.

Disclaimer: Not mine.

Rating: Work-safe

Summary: Thank goodness Molly Weasley is there with tea and advice. A fill-in-the-blanks short story set just before chapter five of HBP. Contains spoilers for OotP and maybe minor ones for HBP. Lupin/Tonks. 1132 words.

Notes: I’ve quoted two lines of dialogue from p 81 of HBP near the end of this story. Thanks to seremela_linwe and Deke for the beta reads, and Deke for the title.

–

The Burrow was flooded with the uncomfortable quiet of bereavement. No one dared speak and break the mourning spell, not with Remus Lupin in the house.

He sat alone in the living room, staring into the fire and clutching a mug of tea that had to have gone cold an hour ago. Tonks paused at the doorway, a mug full of fresh tea in her hands, and watched him.

She had only known him for a year, but she liked to think she had a pretty good idea of how his mind worked. He was quiet and polite to a fault, always friendly with the other members of the Order, but he held everyone at an arm’s distance. Everyone, that is, except for Sirius.

And now Sirius was gone, gone again, and Remus was once again alone.

Tonks stepped into the room, and he finally noticed that she was there. Wordlessly, she held up her mug, and he nodded. “Molly thought you might need some more tea,” she said. “It’s her cure-all, you know.”

Remus tried to smile, but it ended up looking more like a grimace. Tonks took his cold mug and gave him the warm one, intending to take it back to the kitchen and leave him alone, but something held her back. Maybe it was the fact that he was alone, in his self-enforced solitude, after losing his best friend. It was that in part, but also because of the ache in her own chest. She couldn’t bear to walk out of the living room and leave him alone and silent. She had forced herself to walk away from him too many times already.

“Remus?” she said. “Are you… er… are you going to be all right?”

He looked up at her, just looked for a long, silent moment.

And then, startlingly, he broke down.

Tonks moved on sheer instinct and wrapped her arms around him, kneeling on the threadbare sofa beside his legs. He pulled her close, his arms around her waist, and buried his face in her shoulder. He wept as if he hadn’t let himself weep for sixteen years, as if all of the pent-up grief and loneliness had finally burst through the dam of his dignity.

She stroked his hair and whispered soothing nonsense to him, letting him take comfort in clutching her like an oversized teddy bear. His tears soaked through her jumper and t-shirt, dampening her skin.

Tonks heard a soft sound, and turned her head to see Molly in the doorway, holding her hands to her mouth. She met Molly’s eyes, and the elder woman nodded and disappeared back into the kitchen.

It was a long time before the flood of sorrow began to abate; when the tears finally trickled to a stop, Remus lifted his head from her shoulder and looked into her eyes. “I’m sorry—” he began, but Tonks shook her head.

“Don’t apologize. There’s nothing to apologize for,” she interrupted.

“It just… I finally realized that he’s truly gone. I’ve lost him forever this time. I’m alone.”

“You’re not,” Tonks said gently. “You’ve got the Order, Molly and Arthur. And… me. You’ve got me.”

He started to speak, but before he could get a word out, she did what she had wanted to do for months.

She leaned forward and kissed him.

–

Molly had just put the kettle back on to boil when a very flustered Remus Lupin stumbled through her kitchen, muttering something about needing to leave and thanks for the tea. She watched, startled, as he pushed open the door, stepped outside, turned on the spot and Disapparated.

“Oh dear,” she murmured, tapping the kettle with her wand so that it immediately whistled and spouted steam.

She heard a soft noise behind her and turned to see Tonks leaning against the doorframe, her arms wrapped around her own waist. Her hair was a dull shade of brown that was startling for its complete normalcy. “Molly? Could… could I get a cup of tea?” she said quietly, her dark eyes brimming with unshed tears.

“Of course, dear,” Molly said. “Is everything… all right?”

Tonks sat at the table and rested her head on her hands. “Not exactly, no.”

Molly set a mug in front of the younger woman and took the seat across the table. “You told him, then? And he didn’t react very well.” she said sympathetically.

“I am so stupid,” Tonks said, tears rolling down her cheeks. “I should have known he didn’t feel the same way, I mean, look at me, I’m just a stupid kid compared to—”

“Nympadora, never let me hear you say that again,” Molly said sternly. “You are not a child, and you are most certainly not stupid. And Remus… Remus just needs time to come around.”

“I don’t know if he will come around, Molly. You should have heard him. ‘I’m too old, I’m too poor, I can’t take care of you, you deserve someone better than me, I’m too dangerous.’”

“I get the feeling those are excuses he’s clung to for a long time, Tonks. It might take a while for him to move past them—”

“And it’s not like I care that he’s poor or older than me! It’s just thirteen years, and we’re both adults. That doesn’t matter. I love him for who he is. I don’t want someone better than him because there isn’t anyone better than him, at least not for me. And the fact that he’s a werewolf… I don’t care about that!”

“It must be difficult for him to trust himself, though—”

“Molly, are you defending him or giving me a shoulder to cry on?” Tonks said, sniffling.

“I’m simply trying to explain why I think he reacted the way he did, dear, and help you realize that it’s not over yet,” Molly replied calmly. “Don’t give up on him. I think he cares about you a great deal.”

“Oh, you do?” Tonks said bitterly.

Molly’s voice suddenly became stern. “Yes, I do. Why else would he have put up such a fight? He probably thinks he’s protecting you by pushing you away. You’ve just got to let him know that you’re not going to be pushed away. Keep telling him why you love him, dear, and eventually he’ll understand.”

Someone suddenly knocked on the door, startling both women. Molly leapt from her chair, pulling out her wand and hurrying to the back door.

“Who’s there?” she said nervously. “Declare yourself!”

“It is I, Dumbledore, bringing Harry.”

She flung the door open, letting them into the kitchen.

–

Tonks stepped out of the Burrow after saying her goodnights and clutched her cloak around her body. “Of all the people to fall for,” she muttered before turning and Disapparating.

end

Beyond Fighting
by Eiluned

Archive: Please ask first.

Disclaimer: Not mine.

Rating: Work-Safe

Summary: Lupin and Tonks have a very serious chat. OotP spoilers. 438 words. Title and sentence challenge from belladonnalin.

–

Sirius was dead. It was still a hard thing to accept, even though Remus knew it to be true. He couldn’t help but wonder what kind of a cruel god would give a man back his life only to take it from him again so quickly. Perhaps that was why he stopped believing in a god a long time ago.

The Order had held a small service for Sirius in the old House of Black, and no more than twenty people had attended: everyone who had known the truth about Sirius. Dumbledore spoke and tears flowed freely from those who were apt to cry.

Remus sat in the basement kitchen, warming his hands around a mug of tea, listening to the hushed sounds of the Order moving about. He missed his dear friend, even more so now than when Sirius was taken to Azkaban. Back then, he’d thought Sirius to be a turncoat, a betrayer. Not now.

A crash, a mumbled curse, and a sniffle startled him out of his thoughts, and he looked up to see Tonks righting an overturned chair. “Sorry, Remus, I didn’t know you were in here,” she said, and he could see that her eyes were red. “I’ll leave you alone.”

“No, sit,” he said, suddenly and inexplicably craving company. “Please. Would you like some tea?”

Tonks settled onto the bench across from him. “No, thanks,” she replied.

They sat there quietly for a long moment, until Tonks sniffled again. “I can’t believe he’s gone,” she said. “I mean, he was cranky and all, but he really was a good guy. I’m going to miss him.”

Remus sighed heavily. “I will, too, Tonks.”

She looked at him very seriously, a rare look for Nymphadora Tonks. “I think I’m beginning to understand what it was like back then,” she said, “when You-Know-Who was in power. It goes beyond fighting. It’s death, lots of death, and I can’t help wondering if it’s worth it. Why fight when so many of us are going to die anyway?”

Remus closed his eyes for a moment, remembering the early days of the Order. “Because we have a choice, you know? We can see what we’ve seen and face it, admit that the world isn’t as pretty as we want it to be … or we can hide,” he answered gently. “What kind of choice is that?”

Tonks’s eyes filled with tears, and Remus reached across the table for her hand, intending to apologize. She shook her head, though, squeezing his fingers. “No, you’re right on,” she said. “I just can’t help being scared.”

Remus smiled. “I understand completely.”

Someplace Tropical
by Eiluned

Archive: Please ask first.

Disclaimer: Last time I checked, they still belonged to Marvel. I guess all that wishing was in vain. :P

Rating: Work-Safe

Summary: Everybody needs a vacation every once in a while. Ultimate X-Men. Wolverine/Jean. 1189 words.

Notes: Takes place after #12. Dedicated to Fury_Grrl for encouraging me to write more Logan/Jean. Thanks to DevilDoll for the quick beta and comments. This would have sucked without you. A smutty sequel is coming soon. ;)

Feedback will be given hot chocolate with lots of marshmallows.

–

It was raining outside, a slow, steady downpour that trapped everyone in the mansion.

It was surprisingly quiet for there to be eight people indoors. Maybe it was just the dreary weather outside combined with sheer exhaustion. It had taken them six months to get the mansion back in good condition, and Logan had to admit that it didn’t even look like it had been blown up. Chuck must have hired a damn good contractor.

He walked down the halls, restless, from one end of the mansion to the other. Rain pelted the windows, adding a little sound to the silence inside. He wandered past Bobby’s room, heard the faint sound of a television. Rustling papers from Scott’s room, silence from Peter’s and Hank’s, soft voices from Ororo’s.

Jean’s was the only room left. It sat at the far end of the hall, away from everyone else’s. He saw that her door was partly open as he walked up. The blinds over the big picture window were raised, revealing the grey sky and the wet grounds. No lights were on, but a candle was lit on her dresser, and the air smelled like something woodsy and warm. He took a deep breath, breathing in the perfume of the candle on top of her scent. It made his head dizzy and his chest ache.

She was lying on her back on top of her comforter, eyes closed, hands behind her head. Her bright hair was a shock against the deep green blanket, and her skin was very pale in the watery light. She looked beautiful, and he wished that he could wrap himself around her, feel her warmth. For about the millionth time, he kicked himself.

“You can come in,” she said suddenly, startling him. “You don’t have to stand in the doorway.”

He looked at her again, and she had her eyes open, head tilted back so she could see him. “How’d you know I was here?” he asked.

She raised an amused eyebrow at him, her mouth curling into a smile. “How do you think?” she teased lightly. “Pull up a chair, sit on the floor.”

He stepped into her room, trying not to think about the time they had spent there before all hell broke loose. She didn’t have any chairs, so he sat on the corner of her bed, half-facing the window. She snickered, and he glanced back at her. “What are you laughing at?” he said, mock-offended.

“You look uncomfortable,” she replied, bouncing one foot on top of the other, idly or nervously, or maybe a little bit of both.

“Okay,” he said, and fell back onto the bed beside her.

She bounced with his weight and laughed. “Comfortable now?”

He scooted up to the head of the bed, mimicking her position, hands behind his head, ankles crossed. “Yeah, I think so.”

She didn’t say anything for a while, just looked out the window at the falling rain. “You know, I still feel bad,” she said after a long time.

He looked over at her; she was still staring outside. “About what?” he asked.

She bit her bottom lip, her own little nervous quirk. “About how I acted. How I treated you. It wasn’t right.”

He sighed. “Jean. Don’t worry about it. You already apologized. Hell, you didn’t even need to.”

She sat up on her elbows and looked at him. “Why not?”

He rubbed his eyes, wishing he hadn’t said that, and put his hands back behind his head. It seemed like a safe place. He had no idea how to explain it to her. “Because… because after I thought about it for a while, I understood why you were mad. Hell, if I was you, I’d have been just as pissed.”

She stared at him for a long moment, then flopped back onto the bed. “I do not understand you, Logan, not in the least bit,” she said.

“Well, I don’t understand you much either, so we’re even.”

He could see her smile out of the corner of his eye. “I’m going to apologize one more time, just to make myself feel better, okay?” she said.

“If it’ll make you feel better, go ahead, darlin’.”

“I’m sorry.”

He grinned. “Apology accepted.”

A longer quiet this time, and he realized that he could hear faint music coming from her stereo. Well, it didn’t sound as much like music as it did chimes. It blended with the sound of the rain outside so well that he could barely hear it.

“I need a vacation,” she sighed, breaking the quiet. “I need to relax for a while.”

“Where would you go?”

“Someplace tropical. The Virgin Islands, maybe. I always wanted to go there ever since I was a kid,” she answered, rolling onto her side to face him. “I want to go somewhere where everything doesn’t remind me that I’m a mutant, that I killed someone, that the world in general hates me. I just want to get away from everything, if only for a little while.”

She stared down at the comforter for a moment, then slid up beside him, resting her head on his shoulder and wrapping her arm around his waist. He was so surprised for a moment that he didn’t move. When she curled against him, he put his arms around her, holding her against him, just holding her while the rain fell outside.

After a while, he realized that she had fallen asleep. Carefully, he slid out from under her arm, leaving her to snuggle against her pillows, and crept out into the hall.

–

It was later in the afternoon and the rain was still falling incessantly. Jean sat in the den downstairs, curled up on a couch, reading. She jumped when an envelope dropped into her lap and looked up to see Logan standing behind her.

“What’s this?” she asked, picking up the heavy bond envelope.

“Open it and see,” he replied.

Raising a suspicious eyebrow at him, she pulled it open, taking several pages out. “It’s an itinerary. For… oh my god!” she exclaimed, and he smiled. “A flight to Saint Croix! Did you…?”

“Yeah, I did.”

“Oh my god! How could you afford — no nevermind, I don’t want to know. Why did you…?”

“Because I wanted to.”

She came off of the couch, still staring at the itinerary in disbelief. “But…” she paused, looking up at him. “Where’s your ticket?”

“My ticket?”

A smile. “Yes, your ticket.”

“I didn’t realize I was invited,” he replied lightly.

Her smile got a little wider, and she went to him, wrapping her arms around his waist, hugging him tightly. “Of course you are,” she murmured, face pressed against his shirt. “Why do you think I talked to you about it?”

He laughed. “So, that was just a ploy to get a free trip to the Caribbean?”

“Of course not!” she said, kneeing him in the leg, then looked up at his face. “You think you can help me relax?” she whispered.

He smiled faintly, running his fingers down her cheeks. “I think so, darlin’,” he said, and kissed her.

End

She Wishes
by Eiluned

Archive: Please ask first.

Disclaimer: Not mine.

Rating: Work-Safe

Summary: Major X2 spoilers. Written for the x_men100 X2 challenge. 100 words.

—

She wishes. She wishes she had done many things differently now that death is looming over her. She wishes she had married Scott instead of waiting. She wishes she had really kissed Logan. She wishes that she had finished that book she was reading. She wishes she had gotten that tattoo she wanted all those years ago. She wishes she had adopted that puppy she saw in the pound last year.

But most of all, she wishes that she didn’t have to die now. As the wall of water closes around her, she knows it has to be this way.

Rebirth
by Eiluned

Archive: Yes, but please let me know where it’s going first.

Disclaimer: Jean belongs to Marvel, not me. Alas, alack… a lass, I lack… ::smacks self::

Rating: Work-Safe

Summary: What do you do when your world is turned upside down? 300 words.

Notes: Dedicated to Meg. ::hugs:: Thanks to Deke for the quick beta.

—

You know, I never really thought about what it would feel like to lose Scott. Yes, I thought I had lost him when he merged with Apocalypse, but I haven’t ever thought about really losing him. As in losing his love, his affection, his attention.

I’ve felt him slipping away for months. He isn’t the same man he was before, and I can accept that. What he experienced was more than enough to change a man. And when he told me he needed time, I gladly gave it. I was so happy to have him back that I would have given him the moon if he’d asked for it. I even gave up sex.

The breakup was a mutual thing. Amicable, if any breakup is amicable. The divorce papers have been filed. We both moved to different rooms. I don’t think either of us could face the prospect of staying in the room where we’d built a life. I’m keeping myself busy with the school; he’s away on missions. We don’t see each other much. I try to ignore the fact that he’s spending a lot of time with Emma.

But something strange has happened to me. It’s like… it’s like my life has suddenly opened up in front of me. Things that I would or could never have done when I was with Scott suddenly appeal to me. I think I’m learning to stand on my own two feet after so many years being part of the ScottJean entity. And it’s glorious. It’s liberating. It’s like a rebirth into a new life.

Sometimes I think this divorce is the worst thing to happen to me, and sometimes it’s the best. Maybe it’s a combination of the two. But I’m doing the only thing I can do.

I’m moving on.

End

Orpheus
by Eiluned

Archive: Please ask first.

Disclaimer: Not mine.

Rating: Work-Safe

Summary: Written for x_men100′s Myth challenge. Spoilers for X2. 100 words.

–

He stared at the surface of the water, wishing he could part it the way she did, wishing he could see her bones and know that she’s dead.

Everyone else had moved on, but he couldn’t. He couldn’t shake the feeling that she was still there, waiting for the right person to guide her from the depths back to the surface. He would plead with God, if He even existed, for her life, go down on his knees, because his life just wasn’t right without her.

Sighing, he turned and walked away, listening to pine needles crunch under his heels.

“I miss you.” & “I’ve never done this before.”
by Eiluned

Archive: Please ask first.

Disclaimer: Still not mine.

(Ultimate Logan/Jean)

“I miss you.”

He turned to look at her. “What?” he asked.

“I do,” she said, looking up at the ceiling. “Everything’s happened so quickly lately. It’s like there’s no one to trust anymore.

“And I miss the touch of your body. Having something to find comfort and pleasure in.”

He watched her from the door, speechless.

—–

(616 Scott/Jean) (Yes, I know. Hell just froze over.)

I miss you.

You’ve only been gone… dead for a few days, and I feel so alone, like there’s no one on this earth that knows how I feel. Everyone is walking on eggshells around me.

I miss the little things that I took for granted. I wish you were here.

—–

(616 Remy/Rogue)

“I’ve never done this before.”

“You just hold on tight to Remy’s hand, chére.”

“But I’m scared, Remy.”

“Dere’s no reason to be, Rogue. Like I said, just hold on to my hand.”

“What if it hurts? I’ve never….”

An exasperated sigh. “It won’t hurt. It’s a rollercoaster, for God’s sake.”

—–

(616 AU Logan/Jean) (takes place just after the Logan-flirts-with-Jean-Logan-fights-with-Angel scene in Classic X-Men #1)

“I’ve never done this before.”

Her voice was soft and frightened, and he reined in his desire. “Don’t you worry, darlin’,” Wolverine whispered, kissing her. “I’ll take care of ya.”

There was no hesitation. Jean nodded and opened her legs to him, letting him settle between them.

She gasped as he pushed inside of her.

—–

(Movieverse Bobby, John, Rogue)

“I’ve never done this before.”

“Oh, come on, John.”

“What if someone walks in?”

“No one’s gonna.”

“Is it gonna feel weird?”

“Yeah, it’ll feel weird at first, but after that it’s cool.”

“Okay.”

(rustling of clothes)

“Oh, wow. It’s really tight!”

“Feels good, doesn’t it?”

(a door opens)

“Rogue!”

“Oh my GAWD! Why are you wearing my underwear?! Perverts!”

—–

(616 Bobby/Hank) (pre-cat Hank)

“I’ve never done this before.”

A grin full of fangs. “Neither have I, Robert. Consider this newly discovered territory.”

Bobby licked Hank’s belly, rubbing his fur the wrong way, eliciting a deep moan. “You’ll have to tell me if I’m doing it right.”

Hot mouth slipped over engorged flesh, licking and sucking enthusiastically.

“Oh, you’re definitely doing it right, Bobby.”

Merry Christmas, Darlin’
by Eiluned

Date finished: 24 December 2000

Archive: Please ask first.

Disclaimer: They belong to Marvel. I’m just using them to get over my holiday family overload.

Rating: Work-Safe

Summary: Mistletoe: blessing or curse? :) Logan/Jean, movieverse. 496 words.

Notes: Happy holidays! Just a short little piece for Christmas.

–

Jean froze just before she stepped into the kitchen. Mistletoe. Someone had hung mistletoe in the archway. And Logan was standing right beneath it.

She made a mental note to kill whoever had decked these halls.

“Merry Christmas, darlin’,” he said with a grin.

She tried to smile back, but she was sure it came out as more of a grimace. It wasn’t that she *didn’t* want to kiss Logan. She was more afraid that if she kissed him once, she wouldn’t be able to stop.

“Merry Christmas, Logan,” she replied, trying to look nonchalant about standing like an idiot in the hallway.

He gave her an expectant look. “Did ya need something from the kitchen?” he asked, raising an eyebrow at her.

‘Busted,’ she thought. “Um… well, yes,” she answered,

The eyebrow went up a little higher. “So, why’re you standin’ in the hall?”

“Oh, no reason,” she said, pushing her hair back over her shoulders.

Moment of truth. Maybe Logan hadn’t noticed that he was standing under the mistletoe. Maybe he was just standing there… ‘Guts, Jean. Just walk through the door and into the kitchen. Pretend you don’t see it,’ she told herself.

Courage screwed to the sticking place, she stepped through the archway. ‘Almost there!’ she cheered silently.

She had just stepped into the kitchen (and declared herself home-free) when he grabbed her arm and pulled her close. “Aren’t ya forgetting something?” he whispered. “Kissing under the mistletoe *is* a tradition where you come from, isn’t it?”

Jean face him a weak smile. “Yeah, I guess it is,” she replied just as softly.

Logan trailed his fingers over her cheek, making her shiver. “You aren’t scared, are ya?” he teased, his dark eyes twinkling.

“Of course not,” she said, horrified at the breathy tone her voice had taken on.

He slid his fingers back through her hair to cup the back of her head. “So? You ready to uphold tradition?” he breathed against her mouth.

Jean didn’t have time to answer. Logan was kissing her, his soft lips nudging at hers, his tongue gently gaining entry to her mouth. Jean’s knees wobbled a bit and Logan slipped an arm around her, supporting her weight.

God, Jean had never been kissed like that before. Logan’s body was pressed against hers, his thigh pushing between hers. She felt every inch of him as if he were covering her like a blanket. She kissed him, she tasted him, she breathed him in, she lived through his kisses. Her heart pounded so hard that she was afraid it might burst. She didn’t need oxygen; all she needed was to kiss Logan every second for the rest of her life. It was beautiful and terrible and it burned her and she was reborn.

It was just what she had feared.

He slowly disengaged, gulping in air, tilting his head back with his eyes closed. “Merry Christmas, darlin’,” he repeated, touching his lips to hers one last time.

End

Flashes (10.18.01)

by Eiluned

Archive: Please ask first.

Disclaimer: They belong to Marvel, not me. Making money I am not.

Rating: Work-Safe

Description: Ultimate X-Men. Fluff. Wolvie/Jean.

Notes: Flashes are little snippets of life, focusing on various members of the X-Men, but mostly Wolverine, Jean Grey and Gambit, in all of the X-Men universes. There is no real continuity in Flashes; they are simply my way of getting little scenes in my head onto paper. :) If there’s any kind of shipperyness, it will be indicated in the description.

Feedback is cherished. :)

–

I love kissing Logan. He doesn’t seem like a kissing kind of guy, but he could do it for hours. He loves it.

All kinds of kisses. Soft, gentle ones. Hard, probing ones. Little nibbles. Deep ones where I almost lose myself in him. Feathery kisses. He likes to trail those all over my body, chuckling when I squirm.

I’d never, *ever* have pegged him as a romantic guy, but this kissing fetish makes me suspicious. Eh, he’d just deny it anyway.

“Mmm… c’mere,” he says and proceeds to kiss me senseless.

End

Hemorrhage
by Eiluned

Disclaimer: Not mine.

Rating: Work-Safe.

Summary: Don’t leave love bleeding in my hands. Ult. X-Men AU (vaguely set in my In Repair series) Logan/Jean. Character death warning. Chocolates to my poor, abused Wolvie Muse. Thanks to Deke for the once-over. 100 words.
Lyrics: from Fuel’s “Hemorrhage”

“Don’t fall away and leave love bleeding in my hands…”

—

It was as if the world had fallen away out from under him.

Sound seemed to be filtered through cotton before it reached his ears. He could barely even feel his own wounds. The hot rush of blood over his hands took precedence in his senses.

She looked up at him, her green eyes wide and frightened, her blood spilling onto the pavement. “Don’t leave me,” he whispered, but her eyes had already glazed.

He clenched his eyes shut so he wouldn’t have to see her dead in his arms. He didn’t see the flames begin to envelop her body.