arionrhod (arionrhod) wrote in lupin_snape, @ 2008-05-23 20:53:00 |
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Entry tags: | fic: g, prompt: darkfic fest '08 |
Fic: Bastards and Stepsons
Title: Bastards and Stepsons
Characters: Tempus Thales and... well, the obvious, of course.
Summary: A deal is struck and a heavy price is paid..
Rating: G
Word Count: ~920
Warnings: Cross-over (is that a warning?)
Notes: In honor of the late, incredibly talented Robert Lynn Aspirin. While Tempus was not his creation, he does hail from the Thieves' World universe that RLA helped give to the world. Also for the Dark Side Challenge, so this isn't my normal light romance. Thank to McKay for beta and encouragement!!!!
"Being immortal is not quite as enjoyable as I had thought it would be."
Tempus Thales looked up from his glass to the face of the other man at the table, who stared back with a scowl. Out of the corners of his eyes, he could tell that everyone else in the pub was ignoring them, which, of course, meant that they were being closely watched. He shrugged casually, a smirk that held more bitterness than humor curving his lips.
"That's typical, isn't it? Anything worth having is usually not worth the mark up you're asked to pay for it. Unfortunately, deals can't be undone." The smirk faded into something that looked like a brief flare of anger, before settling into lines of bored indifference once more.
"So it seems." His companion had lank black hair and unnaturally pale skin, a sharp contrast to Tempus' own blond locks and tanned face. Where Tempus was muscular and battle-scarred, the other man was lean almost to emaciation, and he had the long, graceful fingers of a scholar. Those fingers were now wrapped around a goblet, which he'd not even bothered to raise to lips which were curled as though he smelled something bad. "It also seems that not dying does not spare you the pain."
"No, it doesn't." Tempus almost smiled then, but it was a nasty smile, as he recalled the far too long a time he'd spent at the mercy of a vivisectionist. "Don't worry, though. That little scuffle you went through was nothing. I promise you, it gets much worse."
Dark eyes glittered at him, although Tempus found it difficult to tell if the expression was amusement or anger, or even a bit of both. The dark-haired man was almost as good at wearing a mask as Tempus himself, which was quite an achievement for someone not even half a century old. He was a natural, it seemed, coming into his ability on his own rather than through divine favor as Tempus had. Favor, of course, being a relative term.
"I shall remember that, and I will do my best to avoid putting it to the test." At last, the dark-haired man lifted his goblet, relaxing fractionally as he took a sip of the wine.
"If you can do that, it will be quite a feat, my friend." There was a start of surprise at those words, and Tempus lifted a brow. "What?"
Narrow shoulders lifted and dropped. "Nothing, really. I have not had anyone address me by that term in years. I have been a tool, existing at the mercy of people far more powerful than I. I have not had the luxury of friends."
Tempus laughed, but it was a self-deprecating sound. "Oh, you and I definitely could compare notes about being used, I think. Although you'll have to concede me the edge on that, for duration if nothing else. Give yourself another three centuries or so, and then we'll talk."
"I thought that was what we were doing," the other man snorted, waving a hand dismissively. Then he grew more serious, fixing Tempus with a stern gaze that, surprisingly, made him sit up straighter and pay attention. Younger he might be, but this man also had an authority about him that caused one to sit up and take notice. "I want to make certain that the terms of the deal have been honored."
Ah, they had come to the crux of the matter at last, and Tempus nodded once, briefly. "Yes, they have. You have my word on that."
"Good." With that, the dark haired man stood, apparently satisfied, pulling his long, black cloak around him like a shield.
Tempus found himself curious; this man was much like him in many ways, and yet he was also a mystery, one that Tempus couldn't quite fathom. He didn't care for mysteries; they had a nasty way of coming back and causing havoc when you least expected it. He rose as well, following the man outside into the street, where the first rays of dawn were just beginning to color the sky. He fell into step beside the other man, who turned to look at him questioningly. "What is it? I was under the assumption that I would be contacted when I was wanted."
"You will." Tempus shrugged, then stopped, and his companion turned to face him. "I wanted to know something, though." A raised brow was all the response he received, and so he crossed his arms and decided to be blunt. He was good at that, after all. "Why did you agree to this? To work for... him... in exchange for the life of this one man? You said you didn't have any friends, and this is a steep price to pay for someone you don't even like."
There was pain reflected for a moment in those black eyes, but also a glimmer of a much deeper emotion. "I said I had no friends; I did not say I did not have a lover." He stared at Tempus for a long moment, then turned on his heel and walked away to face an immortality that would no doubt be as long, painful, and lonely as Tempus' own.
Tempus watched him go, feeling a brief stab of sympathy for Severus Snape. Then he sighed and turned to head back into the Vulgar Unicorn, wondering if the man named Remus Lupin would ever realize he had been saved from death at the cost of his lover's soul.