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Bill/Fleur: Last Drabble Writer Standing
Challenge Eight Voting! 
13th-Dec-2010 05:45 pm
It's Voting Time!


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”I prefer the winter and fall, when you feel the bone structure of the landscape--the loneliness of it, the dead feeling of winter. Something waits beneath it, the whole story doesn’t show.” -Andrew Wyeth

OR

Baby, It's Cold Outside

Winners will be announced on Thursday!








1. goeungurl
Title: Kind Words, or the Lack Thereof
Words: 495
Rating: G
Warnings: None
Author's Notes: Used the quote. Thank you, mods, for the past 8 weeks! It’s been fun! Love you both. <3

In the end, it was Fleur who helped him move on. Haughty, demanding, cold-hearted Fleur who rarely had a kind word to say.

The rest of the Weasleys were too broken over the loss of Fred to know what to do. Instinctively, George turned to his eldest brother, the brother who had always known what to do to get out of trouble. This time, however, Bill simply bowed his head and covered his eyes with his hand. It was Fleur who squeezed her husband’s side and proceeded to bring the family together.

She demanded that Molly teach her how to make jam so the matron would have a reason to leave her son’s grave and reenter the kitchen. When Fleur haughtily told Molly that all properly trained French girls learned basic culinary skills in finishing school and that she knew better, Molly found her voice again as the two heatedly debated the best way to sear a steak.

She scoured Muggle London for a Muggle baby bassinet to bring to Arthur and demanded that they assemble it together so his grandchildren would have a snug place to sleep. When they finished that, she found matching Muggle baby mobile and lamp that she insisted needed adjustments to complete the children’s room.

When she saw how Charlie’s eyes lit up when her Victorie showed interest in his dragons, she bravely demanded that he take the wee one to the Reserve, starting a lifelong alliance between the two.

She was the one who demanded that Penny ask Percy out on a date, and gave Ron the final push he needed to go after Hermione.

But for George, she didn’t demand anything. During the summer heat, she ignored him while she tended the flowers by Fred’s grave each morning. He might have wondered why she just didn’t use watering charms, but they weren’t speaking. When the wind chilled and fall came, she came to clear the leaves. She still never said a word except to occasionally recast the heating charm around them. Once winter came and the landscape was bare, she insisted that the grass needed tending--some French saying about whole stories beneath the grass that you can’t see.

At first, he thought that she was talking about flower buds hiding until spring or some nonsense, but as time passed and his grief dulled, he realized she meant Fred--that though he was buried underneath the grass, they could remember him through the stories that he left behind--and that’s what they did. They both sat in silence, remembering. And they continued to sit every morning until enough time had passed. Then they sat every other morning. Then once a week. Always in silence. She didn’t demand anything of him, but gave him the space that he didn’t know he needed.

In the end, it was Fleur who helped him move on. Haughty, demanding, warm-hearted Fleur who rarely needed to say a kind word because her love showed through her actions.


2. mollywheezy
Title: A Special Occasion
Words: 499
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: None

Fleur set the final piece of china on the table. The white dish with gilded edges made an elegant contrast to the red silk tablecloth. The fairy lights on the small tree in the corner emitted a cheery glow, reflecting in the red and gold ornaments. The soft, red afghan thrown over her love seat looked warm and inviting. Gabrielle had crocheted the afghan as an early Christmas present, and Fleur smiled whenever she saw it.

The aromas of homemade bread and coq au vin were making Fleur hungry. She was pleased with how both had turned out and hoped Bill would be as well. The expensive champagne her mother sent "for a special occasion" rested in a bucket of ice. Fleur was determined to make tonight a special occasion.

She had purchased new lingerie and stockings. Again. She would go broke at this rate. She also wore her new gold velvet dress. She loved how it displayed her curves and the luxurious feel of the fabric as she moved. The flared skirt made a swishing sound when she turned quickly. Bill would not be able to resist her. She hoped.

The doorbell chimed. Fleur quickly lit the candles on the table, smoothed her skirt, took a deep breath, and walked slowly to the door.

"Hello, Bill. Please come in," Fleur had practiced speaking without an accent.
From Bill's expression, she could tell he noticed.

"Fleur! You look lovely." Bill kissed her lips softly.

Fleur took his hand, leading him into her flat. She looked straight into his eyes. "Would you like dinner now?" Bill nodded. "Good. I am very hungry."

%*

After dinner, Fleur and Bill snogged on her love seat. She knew she was thoroughly mussed, but didn't care. Their activities caused Gabrielle's afghan to fall, and Bill abruptly sat up.

"Everything's been great, Fleur, but I should get home."

Fleur sat up too. "You should stay. It is cold outside."

"I can Apparate."

Fleur invented wildly, "It iz not good to Apparate in ze snow, Beel."

Bill quirked an eyebrow, and Fleur blushed. She took a deep breath and asked, "Why do you not want to make love with me? Do you not find me attractive?"

"Of course I find you attractive!"

"Zen what is ze problem?"

"I just want to take things slowly."

"Beel, we 'ave been going out for zix months! Any slower and I will be dead!"

Bill chuckled weakly, rubbing his hand over the back of his neck.

"Beel, if you 'ave not noticed all of zis," Fleur made a wide hand gesture, taking in the flat and her own appearance, "I want you!"

Bill smirked, "I noticed your accent returned."

Fleur glared at him.

Bill sighed, "Fleur, I know we've both done this before, but you're not just someone to fool around with. You're someone to keep forever."

"Why can I not be both?"

Bill's smoldering gaze met Fleur's. "You can."

Fleur took Bill's hand and lead him into her bedroom.


3. gelsey
Title: The Winter After the War
Words: 270
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Poetry. Kind of. Lyrics?
Author's Notes: Inspired by the quote, as I hope you can tell. But it’s also inspired by the song The Summer Before the War, which the quote reminded me of somehow. I know it’s a risk, but I’m taking it!


All in December, grey as the sea
Late and waiting for the tide
We gathered around the crackling red flames
You and my family and I.
And oh, what a winter, and oh, what a wind
Biting to our grief it clung
That month at Shell Cottage, down near the sea
The winter after the war.

Cold winter places where you could taste blood
Welling on the tip of your tongue
As you bite back the words and the memories
Of the ones we lost to the war.
And herein we grieved, and herein we mourned
Feeling older than time
That month of Shell Cottage, down near the sea
The winter after the war.

Young hearts and old souls, our fears were untold
Yet we share it, together, somehow
That month at Shell Cottage, down near the sea
The winter after the war.

We stood slight apart, a couple aside
The wind clung your robes to your skin
You body against my body, our babe in-between
As we watched the sea roll in.
And oh, what a winter, and oh, what a love
We’ll cling to it tight and never lose hope
That month at Shell Cottage, down near the sea
The winter after the war.

I’ll love you forever, I’ll love you today
The bare bones of winter press in.
Loneliness looming, surrounded by the ghosts of the dead
Watching the sea roll in.
Yet underneath, our love persists
And hope grows strong within
That month at Shell Cottage, down near the sea
The winter after the war.

Yes, that month at Shell Cottage, down near the sea
The winter after the war.


4. starstruck1986
Title: Cold Queen
Words: 317
Rating: R
Warnings: Language, comedy French accents.
Author's Notes: Used the quote for the first time, just at the end!

“So cold...”

Fleur shuddered into Bill's hold and thrust her leg between his. The iciness of her skin made him grunt in his throat, but he pulled her closer and tried to protect her with his warmth.

“I think the spells have failed,” he murmured into her hair. “That's why it's so parky in here.”

A muffled babble of French was his answer; Bill thought he heard a passing swear word.

“I can get up and fix them if you want?” he sighed. “But I kind of like this.”
“Being freezing?” her head flew up and she glared at him in the darkness.
“Winter,” Bill answered simply. “Cold. Bare. Everything's gone and even the sunshine is weak... it's like the earth's slowing down around you... ready to come back to life again.”
“Like ze earth is resting?” Fleur asked disparagingly.
“Sleeping, like we should be.” Bill kissed the tip of her nose.
“You are mad, Beell.”
“You knew that when you married me.”

A short laugh brushed over his chin, which Fleur then kissed. She shivered again.

“I need, uh... how do zey say? Warming up!” she declared.
“Oh aye.” Bill grinned, rolling her onto her back. He slid a thigh between her own. “And how should I do that..?”
“Fuck me...” her French accent drawled over the word.
“Oh, I dunno... a hot water bottle does wonders.”

A sharp slap to his buttocks made him laugh, and he pressed his cold queen further into the mattress.

“As you wish, mademoiselle.”
“Ah, don't butcher ze French language with your Eengleesh twang...”
“Ah, oui oui...” Bill smirked.
“Tu es ridicule.” Fleur giggled through her chastisement.
“And you love me anyway.”
“Oui... beaucoup...”

Bill kissed her again, and reached in between them to spark some warmth.




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