McKay (scribbulus_ink) wrote in blessedmoon, @ 2006-08-04 20:03:00 |
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Current mood: | okay |
Entry tags: | first time, romance, snape/lupin |
A Measure of Faith 1/3
Original poster: scribbulus_ink
Title: A Measure of Faith
By: arionrhod and scribbulus_ink
Rated: hard R
Pairing: Snape/Lupin
Summary: In the years following the end of the war, Remus Lupin sought to gain peace and healing by joining the brotherhood of Downside Abbey. He thinks he's found his path until Severus Snape shows up and throws his life and his choices into confusion.
Word Count: 29,162
Part One | Part Two | Part Three
"And as Saint Benedict advises us, my brothers and sisters, do not let the sun go down on your anger. Make peace in your heart every night so that you may greet the dawn of each new day with praises upon your lips, and with the joy of knowing that you go forth to do God's work, for the praise and glory of his name, Amen. Let us pray..."
Silence descended on the assembled congregation, monks and the guests alike bowing their heads in reverence in the semidarkness of the chapel. Remus schooled his own thoughts to tranquility, giving joyful thanks for the peace of this day and praying to find it yet again on the morrow. He had known many days of peace now, more than ever before in his life, and for a man such as himself, haunted by ghosts and curses which had plagued him for almost the whole of his life, it was a rare gift indeed.
Softly, the voices of the choir rose, the harmonious tones of the monks chanting the Salve Regina to close the Compline service.
Salve, Regina, Mater misericordiae,
Vita, dulcedo, et spes nostra, salve.
Ad te clamamus, exsules filii Hevae,
Ad te suspiramus, gementes et flentes
In hac lacrimarum valle.
Remus' added his voice to theirs, his heart feeling the words in English even as he chanted the Latin.
Hail, holy Queen, Mother of Mercy,
our life, our sweetness and our hope.
To thee do we cry, poor banished children of Eve;
to thee do we send up our sighs,
mourning and weeping in this vale of tears.
Remus had done his share of mourning and weeping over the course of two wars and the deaths of more loved ones than he cared to count. But he stilled his heart, letting the soothing phrases of the hymn remind him that even for those such as he, there were places where it was still possible to find healing and acceptance. That all men suffered, but that the holy Church and the grace of God were there to offer sanctuary to even the most battered soul.
The Downside Abbey was one such place, and as the chant swelled, Remus lifted his eyes to the vaulted ceiling which arched overhead, its farthest reaches lost in the dimness of the candles that provided the only light used for this service. Remus could hear how the human voices rang high upon the ancient stones, bouncing back doubled and redoubled as though the voices of all the monks who had ever worshipped in this place were being replayed, adding their voices to the joyous sounds of devotion.
It was such a powerful feeling that it almost seemed like magic, and although no one here practiced Wizardry, Remus wouldn't be surprised if divine inspiration created a magic all its own. His spirits rose with the voices, and as the last phrase died away, Remus held his breath, wanting to cling to the uplifting sensation for as long as he possibly could.
As with all things, however, it had to end, and Remus sighed. Tomorrow night, however, it would be the same, and he could stand once again with the worshippers and join them in the celebration of peace. For now, however, he joined the line of people who were departing the chapel, feeling the cool sprinkle of Holy Water upon his face as the Abbot, the head of the Benedictine Community of St. Gregory the Great, blessed each person, sending layman and monk alike off to the Summum Silentium, the silence of the night which St. Benedict commanded in his Rule.
There wasn't a sound beyond the soft shuffle of feet as the monks made their way toward their dormitory to spend the time between now and Lauds - the second of the morning services - in a combination of sleep and prayer. Remus stood on the grounds, watching the sway of their black robes, darker shadows against the dimness of the English twilight. He smiled softly to himself, wishing them well and yearning for the day not quite a month hence when he would take his own vows and join them, his brothers for the rest of his life.
But that time had not yet come, and he turned away, walking slowly back toward the Monastery guesthouse, where he was staying in retreat until the time arrived for him to join the Brotherhood fully. As a seeker to the vocation, he attended services with them and took meals with them in the refectory, but at night, he was once again on his own, out in the "real world", or as close to it as he could bear to be. It was a long way from London, from Hogwarts, and from the Wizarding world, but it was here that Remus had chosen to be, and, amazingly enough, he had been chosen in return.
The Abbot knew of his lycanthropy, and what was more, he hadn't even been surprised by it. Muggle though the Abbot was, he was no less familiar with the wizards and witches of this world than he was with the angels and demons of the next. Remus supposed he shouldn't have been surprised, but he had been, especially at the acceptance he had found. Henri had said he would find as much when he had suggested Remus try a retreat at Downside at the time when Remus' heart had been shattered into pieces and his life had seemed bleaker than it ever had before, but Remus couldn't help being skeptical.
The end of the War and the death of Voldemort had been a release for many, but by the time Remus had counted up his dead, he had felt as though he had little reason to go on living at all. In despair, he had turned to a friend, a priest who was also a wizard and a werewolf. Father Henri Manette was the Alpha of a werewolf pack with whom Remus had spent some time during the war while recruiting assistance for the Order, and he and Remus had formed a deep and immediate friendship, based on a recognition in each other of a kindred spirit.
Sensing the wounded soul within Remus, Henri had gently urged Remus to take a holiday, recommending that he go to an old friend who was head of a Monastery in the south of England. Trusting Henri's judgment - and having little else to do - Remus had taken the suggestion, not expecting any more from it than to remove himself from the world for a time. He had been born and raised Catholic, a legacy from his Muggle mother, but his faith had been long gone by the time he had made his way to Downside Abbey, where he had not been questioned about his reason for coming, but had simply been welcomed with open arms.
That was three years ago, and now, after an emotional and spiritual journey which was unlike anything Remus could ever have imagined, he stood on the threshold of one of the most momentous occasions of his life, about to enter into a joining that would give him a place to belong for the rest of his days.
Soon, he thought tranquilly, content to wait. For the first time in his life, his future was secure, and he had a purpose and a sense of belonging. He would never have a spouse, a mate or offspring, but he would have brothers and students and a Father to share his life, to guide him and comfort him, and to be guided and comforted by him in turn. For a cursed, penniless werewolf, it was more than he ever dreamed he could achieve.
The scent of roses wafted toward him on the warm night air, and he found his feet turning of their own volition toward the garden walk. The moon, three days from being full, cast long shadows down the path, but Remus had no fear of the darkness, not in this place. The white gravel of the walk glowed, and he wandered aimlessly among the summer foliage, giving silent thanks for the beauty around him and the stillness of his heart.
Severus strode purposefully along the path, his booted feet crunching on the gravel as he sought his quarry. The hunt had taken longer than expected, but it had proved fruitful in the end, although he was surprised it had led him here, of all places.
A lone figure wandered up ahead, and Severus peered at it; even though the moon was growing full, it didn't shed enough light for him to see clearly, but judging from the figure's height, build and profile, he thought he had found Remus Lupin at last.
Remus was walking slowly, thus it only took a little effort to catch up, and his lip curled in a sneer as he drew nearer and saw Remus was wearing the robes of a monk. It was a jarring surprise as well as a disappointment; he had never pegged Remus for the type to sequester himself in a monastery. It struck him as odd, and he wondered what had prompted the decision; somehow he doubted a sudden, profound religious conversation was behind it, and he burned with curiosity to know what the real reason was.
"Well, well, well," he drawled, his tone scathing. "What have we here? A wolf wearing Lamb's clothing."
With a muffled cry of surprise - the discipline of the nightly silence had taken root for Remus already, even though, for him, it was not yet a sin to break it - Remus turned, eyes widening as he stared in shock at his unexpected visitor. There was no mistaking the tall, rather menacing form who stood before him, pale skin luminous in the moonlight, eyes like glittering black stones. Remus didn't have to see the sneer on Severus' lips; he could hear it in the deep tones of Severus' voice, and he unconsciously straightened his back, although mentally, he chastised himself for the sins of anger and pride Severus' words immediately aroused in him.
"Even werewolves are the children of God, and even the darkest soul can find salvation," Remus replied, his tones hushed. Now that his surprise had worn off, Remus felt a complex mixture of emotions as he looked at Severus, at someone from a life he had left behind with few regrets. But even though Severus was a jarring reminder of things Remus would rather keep safely packed in the cocoon of peaceful acceptance in which he had buried them, he couldn't deny a sense of curiosity at why Severus had come here. Perhaps it was nothing more than coincidence, although Remus had long ago learned to mistrust things which appeared to happen by accident.
"Is there something I can do for you, Severus? If you are looking for the chapel, it's back along the path. The last service of the day is over, but if you wish to pray, no one will turn you away."
Remus was glad that his voice was steady, his tone tranquil. No matter what Severus' purpose here, it was better to show no weakness in front of Severus; the man could find the tiniest chink in one's armor, and he wouldn't hesitate to worry at it until it became a gaping hole.
Severus let out a mocking laugh, making no attempt to hide his amusement at the idea. "I? Bleat in the chapel along with the other sheep? No, thank you. That isn't what I came for."
It was on the tip of Remus' tongue to take exception to Severus' words, but he reminded himself that he knew Severus well. Severus was trying to goad him, and the only way to deal with it was to do what he had done for years, no matter what Severus said or did. Peace, he thought, taking a breath and reminding himself of what he had discovered here. The past was gone, and Remus had a future now.
"I see," he replied, giving Severus a smile that he hoped looked serene. "Well, everyone must find their own path to redemption. I hope you find yours, as I have found mine." Remus paused, and then he decided he really had no choice but to ask the obvious. "If you aren't here for prayer, Severus, then why have you come?"
Severus studied Remus in silence for a moment, taking in his new demeanor. Remus had always projected an outer calm, a trait that had often infuriated Severus in the past when he wanted nothing more than to ruffle Remus' feathers. But now, it seemed to go deeper, as if the peace he showed on the outside came from within rather than having been constructed and worn like a mask. It was an unexpected change, but one that Severus didn't intend to let stand in his way.
It had taken time, but he too had found his peace and regained his sense of purpose. He knew what he wanted. And he intended to get it.
Closing the distance between them, he moved into Remus' personal space, letting Remus feel the overlap of their body heat in the cool night air, and he reached out to frame Remus' face between his hands. Stroking Remus' cheeks gently with his thumbs, he bent his head and brushed his lips against Remus', finding them soft and warm and utterly tempting. With a soft moan at tasting what he'd dreamt of for so long, he deepened the kiss, skimming his tongue along Remus' bottom lip as he sought entrance.
If he was wrong about Remus, no doubt he would find himself knocked on his arse for his pains, but if he was right... Well, the die had been cast, and Severus hoped for once, Fate would be on his side.
Of all the things that Remus had expected to happen, Severus Snape kissing him was definitely not among them.
He had grown wary when Severus stepped closer, and he had stiffened instinctively at the feeling of Severus' hands on his face. Yet he hadn't pulled away, his eyes widening as he stopped breathing, stopped thinking, the warm press of Severus' lips driving everything else from his mind.
There were things about himself that Remus had accepted long ago, back in his life-that-had-been. One of them was that he was attracted to both men and women, a symptom, he had often thought, of his desire to please everyone and find the acceptance he found so elusive. He was not inexperienced sexually with either gender, but neither had he allowed himself to indulge often in pleasures of the flesh. It was too complicated, too dangerous, and ultimately, as he had discovered when Tonks had died in the war, too painful to love.
But despite his long standing celibacy, or perhaps because of it, he felt himself responding to the seductive slide of Severus' tongue, the sound of Severus' moan shooting tingles along his spine like a bolt of lightning. His lips parted on a sigh, and Remus felt his eyes closing, his body swaying as if to move closer to Severus, to accept the temptation being so blatantly offered.
The chapel bells tolled the hour of nine, and his obedience to the summons of the Liturgy of the Hours caused Remus to stiffen once more. With a gasp, Remus broke away, taking several steps back from Severus, the gravel crunching beneath his sandals as he nearly stumbled. Eyes wide with horror, he strove to find his equilibrium, his lips moving in what should have been the prayer for None, but the words weren't anything more than a weak denial of what had just happened.
As the last peal of the bells died away, Remus shuddered, panting heavily until he could summon enough breath to speak. "I don't know why you did that, but it doesn't matter," he said, desperately seeking his inner peace, the balance which had been his mainstay, his joy. For the first time in over a year, it eluded him completely, making him feel as though he were adrift in a stormy sea with no port in sight. Severus desired him for a reason Remus couldn't fathom, but the wolf instinctively recognized it as genuine desire. The world had tilted on its axis, becoming surreal, and Remus reached out for the one truth that he could still find. "I'm promised to God."
The worst part was, Remus wasn't certain if he were trying to convince Severus or himself.
Severus let out a derisive snort. Remus may have found his peace through faith, but promising himself to God was doomed to failure. Remus was an earthly being, a creature of sensuality in all aspects of the word, and he had no business shutting himself away in this place. He wouldn't thrive; he would waste away, his wild nature languishing for lack of stimulation.
"Then you're a fool," Severus retorted, moving forward and snaking his hand out to capture Remus', holding it tightly. "God can't make you feel the way that kiss did. You don't belong here, and if you hold to this promise you've made, you will wither and die."
He tugged Remus' hand, trying to urge him close again, his voice a low and sultry purr. "You may have found peace in this refuge, but it must be a temporary measure. It's time to enter the world again, and I have come to fetch you."
Temptation... if there had ever been a Serpent in the Garden, this was it in a fashion far more literal that Remus had thought possible. He didn't understand why Severus wanted him, but the desire was there between them, as real as their joined hands. Desperately, Remus looked for his faith, for the font of strength that had led him and kept him here.
Monastery life wasn't easy, but Remus hadn't been looking for a life of leisure. The vows of poverty and obedience were as nothing to him after the life of privation he had lived. The practice of service, likewise, was nothing to him, and he looked forward to days spent teaching the young men of the school and nights spent in quiet prayer. Chastity hadn't even occurred to him as being a temptation; it was simply a non-issue.
Until now.
A part of Remus he had thought dried up and dead suddenly sprang to heart-pounding life, sending the blood coursing through his veins like fire. He didn't know why Severus was here and apparently bent on luring Remus away from the life he was making for himself and the path he had chosen, but Remus knew he must not give in. No matter how much the wolf within was clamoring for release, to be allowed to take what Severus seemed to be offering.
His lycanthropy was Dark, but not evil. The only evil to be found was in his own actions, by what he chose to do or not to do. Faith was what gave one the strength to stand against evil, whether the vexing impulses were from outside or from within oneself. Faith was both weapon and defense, and Remus was horrified by how difficult it was to find his when he needed it so desperately.
"No," he said, ignoring the tingles which shot up his arm from the grasp of Severus' hand. He yanked his hand away, backing away from Severus. "You're wrong. You have no right to say these things. You have no right..." to tempt me with lies. Whatever reason he gives for being here, it must be a lie.
"Perhaps I don't have the right, but I have the duty to warn you of the colossal mistake you are making," Severus retorted. "I can scarcely believe no one has tried to talk you out of this before. Do they have so little understanding of you that they fail to realize what being shut away here will do to you, or do they simply not care? And you - are you trying to suffocate your own spirit?
He gazed at Remus, feeling both pity and censure as he studied Remus' quiet, subdued manner. "I'm disappointed in you, Remus. You always seemed to be a survivor, facing your obstacles rather than running away, no matter how often life tried to beat you down. In that, I thought we were alike. Perhaps I was wrong."
Remus blinked. He called me by my given name... he's never done that before. Never.
The entire situation was totally beyond Remus' comprehension. Severus hated him and always had. Hated him for being who and what he was, never missing any opportunity to tell him so in the most derisive ways possible. Severus had cost him his job, had revealed his secret. How could he possibly be here now, three years after the end of the war, barging into Remus' life and disrupting his security? Why would he care what Remus was doing or how he had chosen to live his life?
It could only be for vengeance, Remus decided, latching on to the one possibility that felt familiar in relation to Severus. Perhaps the scent of desire the wolf could detect was nothing more than the effects of a lust potion. Severus was a master of his craft, after all, both as Potions master and spy. Even if he had been vindicated for Albus' death, had been an actual hero in the war, Remus knew that Severus was no saint, and that his thirst for revenge ran deep indeed. Remus needed to remember that and not be fooled. It must have been the shock of seeing Severus again so unexpectedly which had thrown him off balance and shaken him so badly. Now that he understood what must be happening, he felt more grounded.
"I see," he said, once again reaching for his inner calm and finding some measure of it. "Perhaps we are alike, in some ways. We both have a darkness within us, don't we? We both have survived against all the odds. We have faced our own deaths, and... we have both killed." Remus' voice was raw with pain as he faced again the inner demon which was the source of so much of his pain. "Faith and the Church saved my life, gave me a purpose and a place to belong when I had none, when I wanted nothing more than to die. I'm not here to suffocate my spirit, but to finally find peace and redemption. If we are as alike as you have claimed, I would think you could understand that."
Severus scrutinized Remus with narrowed eyes, listening intently to what Remus said as well as what he didn't say. He could hear the pain in Remus' voice, but while he had a certain amount of understanding, even sympathy for what Remus had suffered, he had no intention of letting Remus wallow in it. No, what Remus needed was a good shaking up, and Severus was just the one to do it.
Not now, however. Remus was on guard and defensive, and anything Severus said now would fall on deaf ears, because Remus didn't want to hear it. It would take patience and determination to wear him down, but Severus had never let anything stand in the way of reaching his goal, including a certain stubborn werewolf's resolution to run away.
"Fine!" He infused his voice with disgust and threw up both hands. "Have it your way. "You call it peace. I call it running away, but I refuse to stand here and belabor the point."
Which was true enough. He didn't intend to remain and argue; instead, he would retreat and regroup, and he would be back when he had figured out how best to begin storming the barricades Remus had erected around himself.
Pivoting on his heel, he stormed off in a presumed huff, not once looking back.
Remus stared at Severus' retreating back until he was swallowed by the darkness, frowning in renewed confusion. It was unlike Severus to give up so easily, especially in matters of vengeance. Severus could be single-minded when it came to hatred, and it made Remus uneasy at the way Severus had left, his sudden capitulation having a disturbing air of unfinished business about it.
Sighing, Remus turned back toward the chapel. There was peace in prayer, and from the way he felt right now, Remus thought he might be spending the rest of the night trying to find it.