A/N: And here's chapter number three! Quite a bit longer then the other ones…FOR GOOD REASON!
So just enjoy the damn thing…
ALSO! There was a typo in chapter One, Puppy Problems.
Jael is NOT FIFTEEN!
He is TWELVE.
There. All cleared up now.
R&R!
Chapter ThreeBlood dripped from my muzzle. Gore hung from my jaws as they snapped on the tender intestines of the doe I'd caught. My claws were in a similar condition, buried in her side, helping to scoop out the organs and inner-tissues. My stomach bulged slightly, and I knew that, after this, I would be truly full for the rest of the day, and a rumble of pleasure escaped as I jerked my head back, gulping down a mouthful of liver.
Twilight had fallen minutes before, and night, with the Furystorm, would arrive in minutes. I'd have to finish quickly, and decide where to stay for the night. I'd gotten too caught up in my hunting, earlier, and was too far away from Bernardholt to make it before the storm hit…
I stilled as the bushes to the right of me rustled, and focused my Tricolored eyes on them, nose flaring. I scented wolf, a bitch, pregnant and injured. I growled lowly when she pushed through, and we eyed one another as she ducked down submissively. Her fur was tawny colored, her eyes amber. Her belly bulged, and old injuries licked up her left side. It looked like she'd gotten on the wrong side of a thorn bush…or something with some nasty claws. She also looked hungry. She crawled forward, ears pinned, eyes down, tail tucked close, and I growled but allowed her close as I continued my meal, watching her.
I made sure a handful of organs were near her, and watched critically as she devoured it cautiously, before crawling closer to my carcass. I rumbled a growl lowly, and she stilled with a soft whine, before I sniffed her, and she rolled over with difficulty, exposing her much tenderer belly. I placed my gory claws on her stomach, then growled at her, once, before nipping her exposed throat and letting her up, ignoring her. If the silly Direwolf wanted to share my meal, she could. That didn't mean she could get away with anything, though.
It took some maneuvering around the hungry, pregnant bitch, but I managed to get the deer pelt off mostly intact before she tore into what remained. I spread it out and lifted my nose to the wind, yawning hugely and flopping down to lie on my side, my cloak rustling around me as my tail wagged lightly, eyes half-closed.
Life was good…
Except for the irritating itching in my fur, that had gotten steadily worse all day, only to slowly taper off the lower the sun got in the sky. Even now, it itched, but not bad enough it couldn't be ignored. I sighed, rose to all fours, and dragged my new pelt with me, away from the carcass and feeding she-wolf, to the stream that sat nearby. With a growl, soft and humming in my chest, I called on the wild Furies there and they swirled around me, rinsing the blood and gore from my body and cloak. As soon as I no longer smelled the delicious, ripe scent of the doe's insides on me, I thanked the Furies and released them, and they left me barely damp. I glanced up, watching the dark clouds cover the sky, and listened, ears twitching, free of my hood, as thunder rumbled as ominous as Garados himself.
It would be one Crows-be-damned bad Furystorm…
I huffed, and turned, folding the pelt and shoving it into the large pocket I'd made inside of my cloak for this sort of occasion. My ambient magic would work its skin into soft, buttery leather, flexible and smooth. I'd tried, honestly, to learn the proper way to tan skins, but I'm no good at it. My magic was a much faster, easier, and more efficient way to get it done, without tiring me, as, like the wild Furies, the magic that flowed around the outside of my body was aimed to please.
I calmly started in the direction of the Princeps Memorium, where I'd take shelter for the night. It was a mile or two to the east, and I'd make it there, probably well after the rains started, but before the climax of the storm. The Windmanes would probably be delighted I was out and about for a time, and very irked when I went into the protected tomb, but… It was something they'd have to deal with.
A soft woof at my side made my ear twitch, and I paused, claws tightening briefly on my oak staff… And didn't that sound all Merlin of me? Dismissively, I glanced down, eyes narrowing slightly on the bloody-mouthed pregnant Direwolf. I growled at her in warning, and she fell back a few steps, low to the ground in supplication. Satisfied, I huffed, and allowed her to follow. I sent my magic out to curl protectively around her and, most importantly, around the whelps in her womb. If she was going to be a nuisance, then I wasn't going to let her be a stupid one. Carefully, I slid my magic into her mind, and, as we walked and the sky darkened, began to shift her thought process, just enough.
It was a special kind of Dark Magic, taught to me in Azkaban, by a man named Straufford. He'd been sentenced to the Kiss three days before my sentence, so we'd had plenty of time to get to know one-another as across-the-hall cell-neighbors. I shivered at the reminder of the Wizarding Prison, and pushed the Harry Potter memories back a little ways, so that they weren't as sharp. I was Jael now, Crows take you; that part of me no longer held sway in my life…Well, for the most part, anyways.
I finished shifting the bitch's mind as, with a flash of lightening, and a roar of thunder that made Garados roar back in instinctual challenge, the frigid wave of sleet fell upon the world, turning everything around me to an icy gray. I grimaced, and the Direwolf and I ducked our heads and pinned our ears at the same time, just as the freezing, unfriendly wind came howling like a demon down from the mountain. The Windmanes would soon be upon us, and I gave a sharp, commanding yip to my silent, now-shivering companion, accompanied with a sharp gesture of my free claw. She immediately stepped forward, pressing against my legs, in search of reassurance and warmth.
I narrowed my eyes against the wind, and lifted my head to release a howl of my own: an eerie counter-tune to the song Lilvia was so happily playing across the Valley. Instantly, the wind and sleet around us lessoned, and the air warmed and shifted, shielding us from the worse of the hail. I grunted, pleased, and the magics and wild Furies I'd called upon to do so pulsed with pride at my acknowledgement.
"Come, Acacia," I growled, placing my hand on the Direwolf's head. She looked up at me, and woofed her consent, meekly coming to heel as I moved onward. She was shivering, and I had what weak Fire-Furies I could use, at the moment, concentrate on drying and warming her, egging them on with silent praise and murmurs of my magic. The she-wolf sighed and stopped shivering soon after, settling more calmly against me as we continued.
It wasn't twenty minutes later that she stiffened with a frightened whine, and I growled a wolfish command for silence, obeyed immediately, even as her heartbeat fluttered against my leg. The Windmanes shrieked and swooped out of the slashing gray blackness, swirling around us. I snapped my teeth through the arm of one who attempted a grab at the newly named Acacia, and the Fury, unharmed, did not try so again. They contented themselves with stroking my ears and head in passing, touching my cloak, sending it swirling around my body in a frigid blast of air.
Damn creatures would freeze me to death, if this continued, and I couldn't afford to take my weak wild Fire-Furies from Acacia. She was pregnant, and already wounded. She needed the protection against the elements for more then I did… So, I took the brunt of the Windmanes attentions, grimacing as I forced my legs on through the numbing mud.
I had to carry Acacia up two steep slopes, grimly moving forward, the Windmanes helping as much they could with their winds. Still, by the time the fires of the Princeps Memorium caught my nose, long before my eyes, I was faintly trembling, cloak protecting me from most of the rain, but not the temperature. Acacia was now cradled in my arms, exhausted, paws bleeding and too numb for her to feel. I'd covered her head with my cloak, and she nuzzled my chest as I pushed onward, grunting as one of the Windmanes helpfully scrapped my hood up to cover my head and face. Magic enabled my sight unblocked, and so I continued unhindered, oak staff held awkwardly as I went, until I finally reached the Memorium.
The dome of polished marble rose from the slope of its hill to the height of three Aleran men. Its open entryway glowed with a soft, golden light, beckoning me with the promise of its warm, Furycrafted fires. Above the entryway, writ into the marble in gold was the seven-pointed star of the First Lord of Alera… Not that I gave a damn about that. I just wanted to get warm again.
Sighing, a rumbling sound that began deep in my chest, I released what weak Furies I'd gathered around Acacia and I, thanking them and caressing them with my magic, making them preen importantly like canary-catching cats, before they zoomed off into the night. Instantly, the true power of the storm slammed into me, and I shuddered, huddling my body protectively between the falling hail, sleet, rain, and howling wind, and my burden. I gave the Windmanes a gentle push of my magic, making one croon, one shriek, and a few more hiss, before they all swerved off into the night, to likely take their disappointment and irritation out on local wildlife and idiots out in the storm.
Groaning with relief, I stepped into the Memorium, and the powerful Furies that protected it welcomed me like an old friend. Water sloughed off me, ice melting from my fur and cape, and mud fell to the ground. Soon, I was dry and pleasantly warm, and Acacia was as well, sighing softly in relief as she blinked and lifted her head from my cloak. I looked around, and froze, blinking slowly, at the sight before me, startled. Carefully, I set Acacia down, and she limped three steps behind me, while following me to the two shapes.
One was a girl, who watched me with sharp, but exhausted eyes. A Wind-Fury rolled tiredly around her, and I sniffed as I saw the slave collar braided around her neck. I loathed slavery, something I and Tavi sometimes had words on. He didn't like it, but it was a way of life for him. Harry Potter had been a slave of one kind or another, though. I knew the feel of a collar, even when invisible, and just how chokingly tight the one who held your leash could pull, until you felt you'd suffocate, but knew you wouldn't be allowed such a mercy.
The slave-girl clutched a blade, shining in the firelight, and shivered in the cold, and I tilted my head, eying her carefully. She was slender and tall, not unlike Isana, and her skin was a dark, golden brown. Her hair was straight and fine, even tangled and wet like it was, and looked nicely with her features. She wasn't exactly pretty, but striking, yes, with high cheekbones and a long, slender nose, softened by a generous mouth. She was wrapped in one of the red capes of the stone sentries. I could admit, even though Aleran girls held no fancy of mine, that the color looked good on her.
A low moan had my head snapping to the other form, curled and shivering hard under two more cloaks. I recognized that voice. I took a careful breath, keeping one eye on the girl, and struggled to keep hold of a sudden, wild anger mixed with fear. Tavi. My littermate, brother in all but blood. I watched the Fire-Furies flare higher, fed by my emotions, and Acacia cringed, whimpering and scared behind me, as I turned my hard gaze on the girl.
"What," I growled out, baritone a low, threatening growl, making her pale, her dark eyes widening as the ground rumbled slightly, "happened to Tavi?" I finished my question and took two steps toward my brother, carefully uncovering his head so I could look him over. The girl stared at me, wide-eyed, and I snarled at her, making her jump, startled. She was shivering, and I realized they both were frozen nearly through. I sighed and wrestled my anger away, begging for patience and finding it in Garados, one of the most temperamental, angry Furies I've ever met…
Oh, the Irony…
"W-we got caught in th-th-the st-st-storm," She managed through chattering teeth. I grunted, then, eying her, thought 'what the hell?' and smoothly stripped off my cloak, making her gasp. She stared at me, huge-eyed, and I bared my teeth at her in reply, eyes glinting, before I carefully unwrapped my 'older' brother and rewrapped him in the warm, magically-charmed Grizzly-bear cloak. He groaned in his unconscious state, and huddled deeper into it. I nodded and carefully pulled the doe-pelt from before from the pocket, and gathered the red cloaks of the statue-sentries. I paused, eying the girl, before grunting and snapping the cloaks out, the Air- and Fire-Furies of the Memorium drying them, and the pelt, without my having to ask. I calmly padded towards her, crouched while still a little ways away, and tossed the red cloaks and pelt to her, blank-faced as she watched me, clutching her knife and stalk-still.
Oh dear, I do believe I frightened the poor thing…
Yay for me.
"You're… You're a Canim," she whispered hoarsely. I nodded calmly, lips twitching.
"And you're an Aleran," I shot back, and then glanced at Tavi when he murmured my name in his sleep. My ears twitched, and I growled an order to Acacia without words. Obediently, she crawled over to curl against my littermate, curling against the warmth of my cloak and sighing, swiftly falling asleep. When my eyes moved back to the girl, she was wrapped in the two cloaks, and hesitantly clutching the pelt, unconsciously rubbing the smooth, soft leather of the skin. I watched her and huffed, lifting a claw to scratch firmly behind one of my ears. Her eyes fastened on me with a sharp, wary clarity that would have made me pause, but instead I took a deep breath, and watched her silently, unblinkingly.
"What's your name, Aleran-girl?" I asked abruptly; she flinched, startled, and stared at me, blinking. I had a feeling she was usually more alert and would have been faster with reactions then this, but the cold was getting to her, and her wounds, from the smell of her. I'd noticed some on Tavi when I'd shifted him, but I'd deal with his wounds later, when we were safely back home.
"Amara," she replied stiffly; I blinked and nodded, eyes going back to Tavi and Acacia's sleeping forms, and I fought back against my Canim and once-human emotions alike, and finally settled on something.
"I am Jael," I said calmly, not looking at her for a moment. "I thank you, for helping Tavi. He is very dear to me," I said, only now turning to look at her. I leaned closer, and said, very softly, a growl rumbling with my words, teeth just barely bared.
"If you do anything that puts him in harms way, I will make you beg for death long before I grant it," I promised, holding her eyes with my own, and continued softly, quietly, as my magic rolled playfully under my skin and begged to be let out. "No matter what or who your Master is." Standing abruptly, I padded towards Tavi and Acacia, and sat at the short boy's feet, staring into the fire silently, and tried to breath through the fear that had flooded my nose.
After several hours, I heard the storm start to lesson, and waited half-an-hour more before rising and lifting Amara from where she'd been sleeping in an uncomfortable kneeling position against the stone, using my magic to keep her asleep and unaware. I had threatened her, because when it came to Tavi, I would be the monster the holtfolk of Bernardholt thought me to be. When it came to Isana or Bernard, my temper was hot and fast to flare, but Tavi… With Tavi, it was icy cold, something that killed the inhibitions and brought clarity to the thoughts and senses. The kind of thing that would have allowed me to torture a child to an agonizing death, if that was what it took to protect him.
The man I'd once been, even after Azkaban, wouldn't have done such a thing. That man had been human. Harry Potter had been a human. Jael, though, was not. I was Canim, and with that, came something different then those moralities that, in that life before, I had lived and killed by.
Now I had something new to live, kill, and die for. And it was curled up, unconscious, next to me in the skin of a bear I had killed with my own, bear hands, without magic or Furies…
Though, killing children still seemed quite a ways out of my zone at the moment. Adults? Sure, not much of a problem. Elderly, handicapped, and children, though… Well, time would tell…Unless I cut out its' tongue, of course…
Smiling, I turned my head, stared out the Memorium's entryway, and watched the sun rise, hidden, still, behind rain and sleet and storm clouds. My fur itched briefly and I sighed softly.
It seemed that the troubles were not yet over. I could only hope Tavi would survive them…
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"And that's what happened," Tavi said hours later. "It all started with that one little lie. And all I wanted to do was to get those sheep back. Show my uncle that I could handle things without anyone's help. That I was independent and responsible." He picked up a rind from one of the bright orange fruits', and, scowling, threw it at the waters edge, before pulling my cloak tighter around him. I grunted, watching in amusement as Acacia went immediately to curiously sniff at the rind, to see if it was edible. My brother had finished telling his tale, and I smelled the truth on him, and wondered that he'd faced so much in a single night. He reminded me of myself, when I was Harry Potter, striving to prove himself against the disbelief and negativity of the world around him.
He made me proud, and I smiled slightly as I continued to sew the holes and tears of his shirt with a bone-made needle and some thread I always kept squirreled away for the occasion.
"You don't have any Furies at all?" Amara asked for the second time, voice still stunned. "None?" I snarled at her, and Tavi sent me a snarl back when the girl immediately cringed, startled. The sound of it made me huff but quiet down, eyes remaining focused on my sewing as he pulled my cloak closer. When he spoke, his voice was still harsh from the animalistic sound, and much more defensive then he probably meant it to be.
"That's right. So? I'm still a good herder. I'm the best apprentice in the Valley. Furies or not."
"Oh," Amara said quickly. "No, I didn't mean to-" I interrupted her, snorting.
"No one means to," I growled. "But they all do." Tavi nodded in stiff agreement, not looking at the girl.
"They look at me like I'm…crippled. Even though I can run. Like I'm blind, even though I can see. It doesn't matter what I do, or how well I do it, everyone looks at me the same way." He shot her a glance, then, and said, "Like you are, right now." Amara frowned and rose, her torn skirts and cloak swaying about her ankles.
"I'm sorry," she said. "Tavi it's…unusual, I know. I've never heard of anyone with that problem before. But you're also young. It's possible that you just haven't grown into it yet." Oh, I knew where she was heading, and bit my tongue, smiling slowly. Oh. Oh, Crows, she's going to say it, isn't she? I eagerly waited. "I mean, you're what? Twelve? Thirteen?" I burst into snickers and Tavi bared his teeth at me, grimacing.
"Fifteen," He mumbled, scowling. He threw an orange rind at me, and it bounced off my snout, making my snickers louder. "And Jael's younger then me. He's twelve." Amara blinked, startled, and eyed us both as I forced myself to quiet, an occasional snicker still escaping.
"I…see…" Amara managed, a little wide-eyed as she stared at me, then glanced at Tavi, before looking back at me. I could understand. I wasn't even a teenager yet, but I could tear a man in half with little effort on my part. Canim strength could be fun to exploit, you know…
"And you're worried about your service in the Legions." Amara continued; Tavi and I blinked at her, confused, and I absently paused in my sewing to scratch Acacia behind the ears.
"What service?" Tavi asked the slave. "I don't have any Furies. What are the Legions going to do with me? I won't be able to send signals, like the Aircrafters, hold the lines with the Earthcrafters, or attack with the Firecrafters. I won't be able to heal anyone with the Watercrafters. I can't forge a sword, or wield one like a Metalcrafter. I can't scout and hide, or shoot, like a Woodcrafter. And I'm small. I'm not even good for handing a spear and fighting in the ranks. What are they going to do with me?"
"No one will be able to question your courage, Tavi. You showed me that last night."
"Courage," Tavi sighed, shaking his head slightly at the slave. "As near as I can figure it, all courage gets you is more of a beating than if you'd run away."
"Sometimes that's important," Amara said; I agreed, snapping my teeth on the string to neatly cut it, before beginning on the next tear.
"Taking a beating?" Tavi asked, confused.
"Not running away," Amara clarified quietly. Tavi frowned but didn't say anything. Amara was silent for a few moments, before she sat down next to him, hugging the scarlet cloak around her as they absently listened and watched the rain through the entryway. Acacia laid her head on my right foot, as I remained crouched. I couldn't truly sit, you know, and be comfortable. Kneeling was out of the question, since I technically don't have knees, either. It was crouching, squatting, or an uncomfortable form of sitting in which I had to spread my legs and hunch forward between them…Well, if I had to sit on the ground, that is. I could sit on chairs and the like with little issue, as long as I sat the right way, and was careful, or else the back of my thighs became cramped, but still…
"What would you do, if you had a choice?" Amara asked in the sudden silence, obviously catching my brother off-guard. I blinked as he stared at her, startled.
"What?" He asked, head quirked to the side, a move that I recognized as something I, myself, did when confused or curious. A very canine move, and not usually seen on humans. I hid a smile and continued on with the next tear.
"If you could choose anything to do with your life. Anywhere to go," Amara said. "What would you do? Where would you go?"
"The Academy," Tavi said, at once; I nodded slightly, having seen that coming. "I'd go there. You don't have to be a 'crafter, there. You just have to be smart, and I am. I can read, and write, and do figures. My aunt taught me." Amara lifted her brows, curious and surprised.
"The Academy?" She asked; Tavi gave her a slightly stubborn look.
"It isn't just for Knights, you know," he told her. "They train legates there, and architects, and engineers. Counselors, musicians, artists. You don't have to be a skilled 'crafter to design buildings or argue law." I hid a smile as he got into his little speech and Amara nodded.
"Or you could be a Cursor," she said; Tavi wrinkled his nose in another one of my less-then-human-expressions, one side of his upper lip curling slightly to hint at teeth. An expression of disgust or irritation, or both. Then he snorted, and it was gone…
Maybe he was spending too much time with me, and too little time with other Alerans…?
"And spend my life delivering mail? How exciting could that be?" Amara nodded, face sober and voice matching.
"Good point." My head snapped up, eyes narrowing on her, ears pricked forward. There was something…there. She smelled amused, and something else. Tired, but not in that I-want-to-go-to-sleep kind of way. More that here-we-go-again, frustrated kind of tired, as if she wanted to say something but knew she wouldn't get a word in edgewise…
What about the Cursor comment had caused that sort of reaction, hmm? They were the First Lords messengers, his carrier pigeons, essentially… weren't they? A flash of the DA Galleon flashed into my mind. The communication devise that looked exactly like an ordinary coin. Something you'd pass up when searching pockets, you'd expect to see. Something ordinary to hide something used to pass secret messages…
Suddenly, a thought clicked, and my eyes narrowed on the "slave".
Oh, Crows.
Don't tell me she was a bloody spy…
"Out here, on the Steadhold," Tavi continued, swallowing as his voice and throat tightened, pulling my eyes from the strange, confusing slave-girl. "'Crafting keeps you alive. Literally. Back in the cities, it isn't as important. You can still be someone other than a freak. You can make your own life for yourself. The Academy is the only place in Alera where you can do that."
"Sounds like you've thought about this a lot," Amara remarked quietly, and I reluctantly turned my eyes back to my sewing, marveling at the sudden realization that I was a bloody wolf-man and I was sewing…
I felt like ruddy Martha Stewart…
"My uncle saw it once, when his Legion was on review for the First Lord. He told me about it. And I've talked to soldiers on their way up to Garrison. Traders. Last spring, Uncle promised me that if I showed him enough responsibility, he'd give me a few sheep of my own. I figured out that if I took care of them and sold them next year, and saved up all my pay from the Legions, that I could put together enough money for a semester at the Academy."
"One semester?" Amara asked. "What then?" Tavi shrugged, and I finished his shirt and handed it to him. He gratefully smiled at me without showing teeth, dropped my cloak, and pulled it on, before pulling my cloak back up and continuing as he wriggled around, most-probably removing his pants so I could mend them for him as well.
"I don't know," he told her honestly, handing his pants over, and I immediately set to work on them, fingers moving smoothly. Thank you, Aunt Petunia, and Ms. Isana, for teaching me the wonderful art of stitching, I thought absently as I worked. "Try to find some way to stay. I might be able to get someone to be a patron, or…I don't know. Something." Amara turned to look at him, and said, very calmly, very clearly.
"You're very brave, Tavi."
"My uncle will never give me the sheep, after this. If he's not dead." The words chocked him off, and he bowed his head, smelling of despair. I whined at the same time as Acacia, leaned over Amara, and nuzzled his head with my snout, hands never ceasing their steady sewing.
"Be steady, brother," I ordered soothingly, licking his head once, before pulling back. "Mr. Bernard is a strong 'crafter, a strong man. If anything, Ms. Isana will 'craft him right back into shape, and they're both probably worried sick for you right now, and mad as piss that you decided to hide out here in the storm…With a girl," I couldn't help teasing, grinning and giving Amara a wink as Tavi snorted, giving me a half-hearted glare.
"I'm sure he's alright, Tavi," Amara said, voice tinged with amusement as she glanced at me. Tavi nodded but said nothing, and eventually rubbed a fist furiously over his eyes, just as I smelt the tangy salt-smell of tears, mixed with anguish. My ears flinched back and I kept my eyes on my sewing silently, knowing what he was thinking.
If the impossible happened, and Bernard did succumb to his wound before Isana could help him… How could we face Isana again, knowing that? Tavi was probably guilt-ridden by the very thought, and I stifled a low whine, hunching closer to my work.
I was never good at comforting people when I was a human. Now? All my instincts were less-than-comfortable for the Aleran's, though Tavi would be used to it, but not in front of Amara. All I could do was hope she would say something to distract him.
"At least you're alive," she pointed out, quietly, setting a hand on his shoulder. "That's nothing to take lightly, given what you went through yesterday. You survived."
"I get the feeling that when I get back home, I'm going to wish I hadn't," Tavi muttered; I grunted, amused now, as well as relieved. The anguished-guilty-despair smell was going away. Good. Tavi blinked away his tears and summoned up a smile for Amara, and she returned it readily enough.
"Can I ask you something?" The slave asked; I was tempted to use the whole you just did, but go ahead and ask something else reply, but instead just bit the string off and started the next, final tear as Tavi shrugged and gave his consent. "Why endanger what you'd been working toward? Why did you agree to help Beritte if you knew it could cause problems for you?" I smirked and waited for his answer. Oh, I knew whatever he said wouldn't be the whole truth, and wanted to see what he came up with anyways… It was so amusing, my brothers brain. Twisty like a maze…
…
Gah.
Nevermind, I hate mazes…
Stupid Tri-Wizard Tournament…
"I didn't think it would," Tavi began immediately; voice plaintive, and my smirk grew. Oh, this would be good… "I mean, I thought I could have done it all. It wasn't until nearly the end of the day that I realized I was going to have to pick between getting all the sheep in and those hollybells, and I'd promised her."
"Ah," Amara said, but her expression remained dubious, and when she glanced at me, I gave her a waggle of my eyebrows and snickered as Tavi's cheeks colored. He looked down when she looked back at him.
"All right," he sighed. "She kissed me, and my brains melted and dribbled out my ears." I barked out a laugh, and Tavi sent me a dirty look while Amara grinned slightly.
"Now that, I can believe," the slave remarked, stretching out a foot to flick idly at the waters surface with her toes. Silence reigned as I finished Tavi's pants and handed them to him, watching without bothering to hide my amusement as he scrabbled to put them on under my cloaks cover. I turned and, without bothering to ask, began to calmly sew Amara's skirts, ignoring her awkward frown as she watched me.
"What about you, Jael?" She asked after a few minutes of just watching me. I grunted at her, an ear twitching towards her, eyes fastened on where I was repairing her clothes. "Where would you go, what would you do, if you could do anything or go anywhere? To Canea? Your peoples land?" she asked with genuine curiosity. I paused and looked up at her, emerald-turquoise eyes narrowing thoughtfully as I stared at her unassuming face.
Yes…
I could see her as a spy…
"No," I said, dropping my eyes back to my work. I was silent, frowning for a second, thinking about the question. After a minute had passed, I decided to answer honestly. "I think… I think I would go with Tavi. To the Academy. Not necessarily as a student, mind you. I don't think they'd be fond of a Cane running about, uncollared, without someone holding my leash." I bared my fangs and Acacia growled lowly, eyes half-lidded and sleepy. My tail thumped once in her direction and she yawned, and obediently closed her eyes, going back to sleep. "I would merely be an…Observer, I suppose. I could be a student, if I wanted to," I admitted idly. Tavi nodded, with a small grin of warmth as he reappeared from where he'd been tangled inside my cloak, hair disheveled.
"Unlike me, Jael does have Furies," he told Amara with pride, and I ducked my head slightly under her startled, wide-eyed gaze. "And he's the best bloody Woodcrafter in existence, if you ask anybody on our Steadhold. My uncle can never find him, neither my aunt, and their both powerful 'crafters. No one can, ever, unless he wants them to find him, that is. And he can control the Great Furies like they're child's play." Amara was now staring at me in gaping shock and, with some exasperated amusement; I reached up and shucked her chin, making her mouth shut with a sharp click sound. I chuckled as she shook her head and stuttered, but interrupted her easily, snapping my teeth on the string and moving to the next tear.
"But I'm not interested in your Aleran jobs. Maybe, one day, I'll go to Canea. Try to find blood-relatives, to see if I have family alive. I honestly doubt it, and if I do," I smirked suddenly, baring teeth in an animalistic, bloodthirsty show of fangs. "I'm sure they'll be delighted to find a so-called family member who just happens to show up…" I shrugged, and kept my eyes on my stitching, shifting on my paws a bit to get more comfortable. "But honestly? I'm more likely to just follow Tavi about like a stalker-puppy, and make sure he doesn't get himself killed by bigoted idiots who don't understand a clever mind and fast body can get you out of some situations that Furies just can't." I glanced up at her, to see how she took that, and saw she was still in a bit of a state of shock. Amused, I went back to sewing as she slowly got herself under control. It took a few minutes, but soon enough, she was back to the composed Amara we'd gotten to know.
"What about you?" Tavi asked her suddenly, head cocking in that canine curious/confused way again. If he'd had puppy ears, they'd have perked forward.
The picture…was rather adorable, come to think of it…
Amara tried to copy the gesture, but ended up exposing too much throat, and looking submissive towards Tavi. I bit back a rumble at that and Tavi, recognizing the unknowing body language, gave me a quick, stern glance.
I kept steadily sewing.
"What do you mean?" Amara asked. Tavi shrugged and turned his attention from me to her, gaze a bit uncertain now.
"I've been doing all the talking, with Jael every now and again. You haven't said a thing about yourself. Slaves don't usually wander around this far from the road. Or a Steadholt. All alone. I figured that, uh, you must have run away."
"No," The young Aleran woman said firmly. "But I did get lost in the storm. I was on my way to Garrison, to deliver a message for my master." Lie, I smelled, but only in a strange way, and definitely on the last part. She had gotten lost in the storm, and was on her way to Garrison. Maybe even to deliver a message. All I knew, is this girl had no master. She may have a Lord, but no master, nor Master. I narrowed my eyes and snapped the string, moving on to the next hole. And something else wasn't adding up with her tale… Tavi squinted up at her, frowning slightly.
"He just sent you out like that? A woman? Alone?"
"I don't question his orders, Tavi. I just obey them." Lie, I thought, without having to scent it on her. Even the most hardened slave questions their Master's orders, at one time or another. Going out into the wilderness to take a message to Garrison, with a Furystorm on the rise? That was a time you questioned, no doubt.
"Well, okay, I guess," Tavi said, frowning but nodding as well, letting it pass. "But, do you think you could come along with me? Maybe talk to my uncle? He could make sure you got to Garrison safely. Get you a hot meal, some warmer clothes." I smiled faintly, and Amara did to, eyes wrinkling at the corners.
"That's a very polite way of taking someone prisoner, Tavi." I looked up at her and grinned, barring my teeth.
"If you want, I can go the very unpolite way, and just knock you out and drag you along with us anyways. I can carry a Grizzly bear carcass fifteen miles without stopping to rest, and still have the strength to carry it back again," I told her as she stared at me, suddenly very still and smelling of wariness and a hint of fear. I breathed it in obviously, and my smile widened when her lips thinned, her previous smile gone.
"Jael!" Tavi snapped, glaring at me when I looked at him, blinking. "I am your older brother, and ahead of you in the pack. You will not threaten Amara again, understand?" I huffed, ears pinning back as I scowled at him, but when his own scowl met mine, I turned my head, and nodded, while showing him some of my throat. I could beat Tavi, easily, and take his place as next in line. I could do that to Isana and Bernard as well, but…
I trusted them; far more then I trusted myself, with my inability to fully control my bloodthirsty urges and animalistic demands. It was hard, okay? And I couldn't even imagine what a Canim's puberty was like… Tavi turned apologetic eyes on Amara, and I went back to sewing, grumbling quietly under my breath in Canim. I was almost done, anyways…
"Sorry about him," he told her. "I won't let him do that to you. But, Amara, seriously. I'm sorry, especially since you probably saved my life and all. But, if you are a runaway slave, and I don't do something about it, the law could come back to hurt my uncle." You know, when he ducked his head down like that, and peered up at you with huge eyes, he looked like a kicked puppy…
Not that anyone was kicking any puppies on my watch, thank-you-very-much! I'd steal their Crows-begotten foot…
And then eat them.
Alive.
"I understand," Amara said, recovered from my scare. "I'll come with you." I flicked my ears towards the door as I finished the last stitch, and calmly snapped the string, wrapping the rest back around the small wooden stool and inserting the needle in the small hole in the middle. Rain had stopped, by the sound of it.
"Thank you," Tavi said, glancing towards the door, before standing and reluctantly handing me my cloak, picking up the scarlet cloak he'd been sitting on and wrapping that around himself instead. "Come on. Sounds like the rains stopped; do you think it's safe to go?" Amara frowned and looked outside for a moment, face thoughtful.
"I doubt it's going to get any safer if we wait. We should get back to your Steadholt, before the storm gets bad again."
"You think it will?" he asked, then shook his head. "Jael?" he asked instead, glancing at me. I nodded.
"Oh, aye, brother-mine," I said, smiling slightly as I settled my cloak once more on my shoulders. "It'll get bad again. Lady Lilvia's not done playing her tune, and you know how sweet Lord Garados is on his wife. Ever the doting husband," I winked as the ground rumbled around us, making the two Alerans look up at the ceiling warily. I chuckled, reached down, and patted the ground affectionately as Acacia stretched and waddled to my side, panting happily.
"Alright," Tavi acknowledged, frowning now at Amara. "Are you going to be all right, walking?" We all glanced at her foot at the question. Her ankle was swollen around a purpling bruise. I frowned, tempted to heal her, but going against it. If the 'slave' was a spy, perhaps it was best if she had an injury that would inhibit her ability to flee.
I could always carry her down the brief steep slopes that were between us and the quickest way to Bernardholt.
"It's just my ankle, not the rest of the foot," Amara grimaced. "It hurts, but if I'm careful I should be all right."
"Okay then," Tavi said, heaving himself to his feet, grunting as his muscles and wounds protested. He'd gotten pretty banged up, running through the forest as he'd done, and it showed beneath his clothing, in bruises, scrapes, scratches, and tensed, painful muscles. "I guess it isn't going to get any easier."
"I guess not," Amara muttered, letting out a small, pained sound that made me stifle a hungry sound of my own. Damn it, she sounded like prey, for a moment there… "Well. We make a fine pair of traveling companions, with the Cane and his pregnant wolf to guide us too." She glanced at me and nodded, wincing as she started towards the door, hobbling. "Lead the way."
Huffing in amusement, Acacia and I shared a look, before we brushed past the golden-skinned Aleran and obediently led the way.
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I ended up having to carry both Amara and Tavi down the steep hills, and added Acacia to the load when we met a ravine. I was not risking the pregnant Direwolf's health for something so simple, and made the two Alerans hold onto me with their arms. But we reached the causeway with little trouble elsewise, the two clinging tiredly to my back like small children, the wolf at my side, and my head covered by my hood.
We'd walked no more than an hour down the causeway, though, before the ground rumbled, and the wild Furies brought to me the familiar 'taste' of Brutus, the Hound-shaped Fury of Bernard. I sighed and sent out one of my regular Furies, an old Earth-Fury I'd taken to calling Gaia, to pass on the news of myself, Tavi, Acacia, and Amara, and told Tavi of it as I continued to calmly walk, nose lifted to scent the wind small Furies brought me. I frowned slightly, ignoring the conversation the two Alerans had on my back as I took in the Steadholders emotions when he appeared around a curve in the road.
He was angry, a bit confused, but mostly angry.
"Uncle!" Tavi finally cried, as I lowered both him and Amara from my back, and threw himself at my Alpha, wrapped his arms as far as they could go. Bernard's face, though, as I watched, while relieved, remained slightly distant and cold. Something was wrong, badly wrong, and I frowned, stiff. "Thank the Furies. I was so afraid that you'd been hurt." Bernard laid a hand on Tavi's shoulder, and I watched a small amount of tension leave him, but only a little. Then he gently, firmly, pushed Tavi back and away from him. Tavi blinked up at him, face suddenly uncertain, voice timid,
"Uncle?" He asked hesitantly. "Are you alright?"
"No," Bernard rumbled, voice hard, and his scent changed at Tavi's tone. Some of the anger left, and I couldn't really name the emotion that replaced it. "I was hurt. So were others, because I was out chasing sheep with you." My ears perked forward, and I frowned harder, suddenly straightening.
What the bloody Crows had happened?
"But Uncle," Tavi started; Bernard waved a hand, interrupting, voice hard but not angry.
"You didn't mean it. I know. But because of your mischief, some of my folk came to grief. Your aunt nearly died. We're going home." I took a soft breath. So, that was it. Isana had been endangered…
Well, it explained some things, for certain.
"Yes, sir," Tavi said softly.
"I'm sorry to do it, but you can forget about those sheep, Tavi," Bernard continued seriously. "It appears that there are some things you aren't swift to learn after all."
"But what about—" Tavi began.
"Peace," Bernard growled, a warning anger entering his tone. Tavi and I both cringed, and I scented tears on the boy. "It's done," Bernard said firmly, and turned his glower from Tavi to Amara. "Who the Crows are you?" He demanded. Neither Tavi nor I looked up from the ground, my ears pinned to my head, at the ruffle of Amara's skirts as she curtsied.
"My name is Amara, sir. I was carrying a message for my master, from Riva to Garrison. I became lost in the storm. The boy found me. He saved my life sir." I saw Tavi lift his head, and glance hopefully at Bernard. "And Jael found us both during the storm last night as well, and helped keep us safe." I didn't bother to look up, keeping my body hunched and my eyes down. I was in my Old Man pose, curled up as if in pain, and I wasn't about to straighten if all I was going to get was hit…
Not that Bernard had ever hit me, but there's a first time for everything…
And not all hit's came in the form of a physical nature.
"You were out in that? Fortune favors fools and children," Bernard said, as if quoting someone, and I recognized the words as something Old Bitte would say. He grunted. "You're a runaway, are you?"
"No, sir."
"We'll see," he replied calmly. "Come with me, lass. Don't run. If I have to track you down or send Jael after you, I'll get irritable."
"Yes, sir." Bernard nodded at her and frowned at me and Tavi, his voice hardening.
"When we get home, boys, you're to go to your rooms and stay there until I decide what to do with you. Understand?" Instantly, we both nodded, rather startled by Bernard's tone towards Tavi.
The boy had lost something he'd never known he'd held: Bernard's respect. Me? I was respected in a way all dangerous animals were respected. With distance and a firm hand. Tavi, though… Well, I never begrudged my brother his uncle's kindness and love.
Tears scented the air sharply as Tavi once more lowered his eyes, and only Bernard's impatient snarl of his name had him stumbling forward. Amara limped lightly after him; the rest my carrying her had given her had helped. I brought up the rear, uncertain as to what to do, until Bernard looked back at me.
"Jael," He barked; I padded past the slave-girl and my bowed littermate, crouching hesitantly near my Alpha as he glowered down at me. "Run on ahead. You're to go to your den, understood?" I nodded quickly.
"Yes, Mr. Bernard," I said quietly, in case a verbal response was required. I didn't know where to stand with this new, harsh Bernard. And neither did Tavi. I hesitated in following his orders, uncertain about leaving my brother in his hands, and turned my gaze on Tavi. Bernard glowered harder, but Tavi's whisper, almost too quiet for even my intense hearing to catch, had me obeying his command.
"It's okay, Jael," he'd whispered, but, loping ahead with Acacia, the world blurring around me as I did, I couldn't help but disagree. Something had happened; something bad, and the itching of my fur said it would only get worse.
No, Tavi…
Okay was a far, far away daydream.
A/N: Ah, a chapter far longer then normal…
TO STAVE OFF BOREDOM!
R&R