Thrihyrne

This was written for the first-ever fest at remus_ron_slash. If you join the comm you can read it there; NC-17 fics are locked to protect the mods. I've made the choice not to lock my adult fics, so after making confirming it was okay to post outside of the comm at this juncture, here 'tis!

Title: Scotch Game
Pairing: Ron/Remus
Word Count: 10,175
Rating: NC-17
Warnings/Alerts: wanking, explicit slash, a bit of angst, AU, EWE
Written for the inaugural fest at remus_ron_slash. The prompt I took was this:
He took my soul and bound it
with cords of iron wire.
~Lord Alfred Douglas, "Rejected"

Summary: When Ron is invited to referee and instruct at a month-long event in Glasgow hosted by the European Youth Wizarding Chess Federation, he balks. Once there, much to his surprise, he enjoys himself. Even more surprising, however, is seeing Remus Lupin as a volunteer, and an attraction to his former professor that resolutely won't go away. But will Lupin allow himself to leave his past so Ron can be a part of his present?

A/N: Huge thanks to my betas, kymyrra, rickey_a and abigail89. 'Scotch Game' comes from my searching of Wikipedia for a clever chess-oriented title. According to them, here are comments about this particular game opening: "Popular in the 19th century, by 1900 the Scotch had lost favor among top players because it was thought to release the central tension too early and allow Black to equalize without difficulty. More recently the Scotch has regained some popularity…"

( Scotch Game )

The reveal over at bestmates_xmas has gone up, so I'm free to post my H/R here. Enjoy!

Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 11,550
Genre: romance, erotica, humour, established relationship
Betas: rickey_a, auntee_mame and cim_halfling. Thank you!!!
Summary: A few days before Christmas, Ron is struck with a harmless, but thoroughly annoying curse. Figuring out who cast it takes Ron and Harry to Scotland, and Harry wonders: Why can't I just have a normal Christmas, just once? H/R, EWE, kilt!sex.
Author's Notes: Title, as it absolutely must have, comes from Robert Burns, from his poem "Poem on Pastoral Poetry" written in 1791. It's from the final stanza, and the sentiment reflects pretty accurately the atmosphere of this story:
[…] but that sweet spell
O' witchin love,
That charm that can the strongest quell,
The sternest move.

I have no idea where this rather cracktastic idea came from, but once I was given Abigail89 as my gift recipient and saw a shared interest in Scotland and kilts (and perhaps single malts as well), this story was breathed into life. DH-compliant, ignoring the epilogue.

( That Charm That Can the Strongest Quell, part one )

On to part two