FicWad

What fates impose, that men must needs abide; it boots not to resist both wind and tide.

~William Shakespeare, Henry VI, scene 3.

Brander stood at the edge of a mountain peak, his dark, masked face towards the rising sun in mid-summer. A light breeze ruffled the thick snow-white fur on his chest, while his wide clawed paws gripped the hard stone beneath him. His younger brother, Sable, who was the color of a starless night with eyes as bright and as green as emeralds, crept up beside him, standing slightly behind and to the left of him in accordance with their strict protocol.

As AlphaHeir, Brander would soon lead the Pack, but now with his father gone he stood in the older wolf’s place, caring for their Pack until his return. Sable, as the second son, was glad not to bear the weight and burden of his older sibling. Brander could feel the psychic thread that connected them, sharing these thoughts while he turned toward the younger wolf to find out what he had come to say.

Nearly everything is ready. Sable murmured across their familial link after a moment of silence. We have enough supplies to last the next few days, and only a few more entrances to close.

It was unfortunate that the Alpha had not returned by now, because even with the responsibility of leading and protecting the Pack, Brander would not be excused from his three days with the moon goddess Rhianro, starting tonight: the night of his 300th new moon. It would take those three days for the lady moon to teach him how to function in the second form and he was dreading every minute that it kept him from his people, the children of Varfödden.

Because Sable could not serve in his stead—being second son meant he lacked the necessary dominance to keep command over the other males—the Pack would have to sequester themselves in the main room of their intracavernous dens to remain safe from their enemies.

The Varföd, as wolves, were capable of following orders and keeping peace among each other, but during battle or when under attack, a singular mindset took over leaving each to fight for himself. If the enemy approached, without the Alpha or his heir present, the males would fight and die alone, leaving the females and children without protection. The best solution that Brander, with the help of Sable and their elder sister Runa, had constructed was to keep the Pack safe inside the stronghold of their mountain home.

The two brothers walked down the mountain on familiar paths until they reached an entrance, one of the few still open, which led through the dens nearest the nursery where the youngest pups were kept; up and away from the threats of the forest and the castle beyond. The need for so much protection and careful preparation stemmed from that castle, and a hundred year long war between the Varföd and the leech king of the bloodsuckers.

As they traveled further down through the dens, they passed the infirmary and elder rooms, though few were left. Varföd healed very swiftly, which sometimes required re-breaking bones in order to set them correctly, and despite being practically immune to infections and other ailments, with the silver and iron weapons that the blood suckers used, more and more often wolves were having to sit ill for days or even weeks before recuperating fully.

Kelda, Sable’s mate, who was currently heavy with a pup, was exiting the infirmary when the two males passed the last entrance. Until the birth, she would not be able to change into her human form, and therefore could not attend the others with her dexterous thumbs and steady stitching hands, but she stubbornly visited the ailing and did what she could to comfort them. When Sable asked why she was out of bed, she told them she had also come up to be examined since her date was growing closer. The young couple excused themselves from Brander’s company, and made their way back to the den they shared a few corridors away.

Brander liked to see Sable so happy, though he had married very young; Kelda was only a few years older than her mate, but it meant that she had her second form when Sable had yet to gain his. Seeing them also made Brander’s heart ache with longing for a female of his own. With the war growing more violent at every encounter, the forests had become too dangerous, and females rarely traveled looking for a husband any more. Even their elder sister Runa had postponed her own journey for the last two years, and would continue until the attacks had waned.

Shaking his head, the lonely wolf prince turned toward the gathering hall at the center of the dens, a large cathedral-like room that could house every wolf in the Pack, albeit a bit uncomfortably. It was there that he found his elder sister, trouncing about in her pale blue gown with human shaped females just moons younger than her jumping at her commands. They were organizing sleeping arrangements in the massive hall, while young males in their Fur checked the corridors to the supply closets in the back for security. Brander watched them for a moment while he arranged his thoughts.

In her pelt Runa had thick golden fur, and pale blue eyes. But she had gained her majority more than two years before and preferred her human form. She was a shapely female, with long curly yellow hair, bright blue eyes that sparkled when she laughed and her skin was pale and soft. Brander knew she was beautiful, but he did not find the human form attractive. Varföd in pelt were much larger than their single-formed wolf cousins, so when Brander approached Runa, his head came up past her sleeved elbow, and her belted waist was even with his shoulders. In spite of this, she was rather good at staring him down when she felt her opinion was more important than protocol; which was set up primarily for the protection of females.

Protocol was a strict system of rules that kept males not only from fighting each other, but also from abusing the women. Varföd, even before their change, balanced the logical human mind with the instinctual wolf; loyalty fighting against jealousy, and dominance against compassion. In the early times of their history, males fought constantly for dominance, leadership of the Pack, and more often for the right to mate with a female.

When accidental deaths caused the female population to dwindle, protocol was set in place to protect them, and provided a guide for punishment when they failed to follow the law. Most minor offenses could be punished by a Run; sprinting between two rows of the other Pack males, who were free to strike or attack in any way. It was a fierce punishment, but it served its purpose, and offered forgiveness at the end.

Larger offenses had sometimes resulted in expulsion from the Pack, but those wolves could usually find another Pack to live with, as there were quite a few across the continent. They were regarded less honorably, but retained life. Only three crimes resulted in death, and those were rape, murder, or exposing the Pack. Varföd did not have jails and there was no such thing as a life sentence. If the wolf would not be welcome or trusted among the people, then he was destroyed.

The system was less strict on females, because it was designed to protect them, and mostly outlined rules to keep them from tormenting males into rage. There were females in the history of the Varföd who intentionally caused wars, turned whole Packs against each other, or ruined families for sport. It was not tolerated.

Runa found the minuscule laws ridiculous and infuriating, such as where one should stand, or how to position one’s head to avoid eye contact. They grated on her very powerful pride; Brander and Sable dealt with a certain amount of petulance from her, but their father rarely allowed it. With him away, she grew braver each day, and the brothers joked that she would one day demand Alpha, and become the Queen of the Pack.

As Brander stepped up beside her, Runa took a knee to be below eye level with him, and he could see from the way her mouth thinned that it chafed at her. A lady, she must be thinking, needn’t kneel to a male, especially not her younger brother. Brander would not have demanded it of her, but protocol had become instinctual in a way.

You are doing an excellent job. He complimented her, hoping it would soothe her irritation. I’m sure the Pack will be safe here; although it would be better if I didn’t have to leave.

“It would not be better.” Runa told him out loud, though he had been using their familial link to speak to her. “You will not be a good enough leader until you can match Skin against the other males. Some of the adults murmur about your age.” His darling sister rarely held words to save his pride.

Having the human form will not make me stronger. He argued; shuddering as he thought about the pathetic body he would be forced to wear, endure and learn for three days while his Pack was vulnerable; even in the stronghold of the dens, there was danger. And I do not enjoy the thought of being compelled. Despite being a gift from their mother goddess, Brander saw the change as a subjugation of his willpower, proof that he was weak.

“Gamble has been looking for you.” Runa changed the subject nonchalantly, refusing to acknowledge his argument. “He wants to consult with you before nightfall.” Brander nodded his massive lupine head, and pressed his cheek to hers as a sign of affection before leaving the great hall. He had no doubt she would have it fully prepared in time.

Gamble was one of the few elders left among the Pack, and lived in one of the highest and largest dens in the mountain, but he was furthest from the infirmary. For some reason, which Brander could never understand, the old man preferred his human form, so he was perched in a comfortable leather chair bent over an old scrap of parchment when Brander appeared at the entrance of his room.

The Varföd had a primarily oral language, similar to old Scandian, but Gamble had studied the written Latin language in his youth, and still practiced letters. He taught the language, and others, to Brander and his siblings when they were young, mostly for entertainment; though sadly, he had never succeeded in making it a common study. The hope was that when Brander became Alpha, the whole Pack would have access to the lingual knowledge, however, Runa had warned him that speaking many of their fluent languages was an entirely different endeavor in Skin.

“Brander.” Gamble greeted quietly, without looking up from his lap. “I’m glad you could make time, with everything rushing about.” He grinned sheepishly, as if laughing at his own joke. Brander waited patient, and silent.

“Come in, please.” The elder invited him finally, using bent and pained hands to motion the wolf inside while he carefully placed the parchment on the roughly-hewn wooden table beside him.

Runa informed me that you have been looking for me. Now, the wolven prince used the common Pack link to speak to the elder, since they were not related closely enough for anything more intimate. When he became Alpha, he would use a separate link, one that could be projected to all members under his power and protection.

“Yes. I understand that you have some trepidation about tonight. A very scary thing for a young wolf, coming into his prime.” Gamble turned milky gray eyes toward him. “It will challenge your most basic instincts but you must trust and obey the Lady.”

It might be easier if I knew all that it would entail. For having so many adults, there is little to be said about what happens; how it feels; what I will experience. Brander swallowed, narrowing his eyes as he fought back the rush of panicked words. I go blindly to a battlefield.

“You go blindly into the loving arms of our mother.” Gamble countered, adjusting himself in the seat. Brander sat back on his haunches, facing the elder with his back to one wall so he could also watch the entrance. An attack this deep among the dens was unlikely, but Brander had been surprised before and would not risk it again. “There is nothing to be revealed or discussed because there is nothing to fear. The others are not intentionally withholding information.”

Gamble paused to look at him pointedly. “Rhianro loves all of her descendants, and considers hers the greatest gift; so we must show her, often, that we appreciate it.” He lifted one shoulder and let it drop in a shrug. “It is not that we are forced, simply helped into the human form when we first experience the change. She does this to protect us from our own fear. Though, even if she does not force us, it is unkind to reject gifts from our lady.”

There is also the threat to the Pack. If only I could postpone it until Rune returns. Gamble interrupted the prince with a shake of his head.

“Everything has its own time. Sometimes, unfortunate overlap cannot be avoided. It does not bode well to resist fate, and the goddess has known the night of your change since before the night of your birth. She will not alter the course of the nature she made for us, simply because you dislike the schedule.” Gamble was enveloped in a fit of coughing before he could continue. “It is very unlikely that anything will go wrong to delay your return, and when you do return it will be to a well-fortified Varföd stronghold.” Brander was not comforted by the elder’s words, but he thanked the old man before excusing himself.

That evening, Brander stood outside the last of the open entrances to the den, a tangled mess of corridors away from the gathering hall, which had been almost completely sealed off. Sable came out to bid him good luck and farewell, and to pass on much the same from Runa, before maneuvering the lever that rolled the massive stone into place behind Brander. There was a great empty echoing sound as the stone settled, and suddenly Brander was entirely alone.

As each moment passed, the sun sank lower, growing closer to the time of his ordeal and Brander descended into the forest below. The sky continually darkened as he entered the deeper parts of the woods.

Despite the dark sky, with only stars to light the way since it was a new moon, Brander could see quite well between the trees. His keen eyesight was useful in such situations, though he felt as if it were enhanced tonight; each leaf stood out in stark contrast, each twig and branch well defined. His nose and ears felt stronger as well, as scents assaulted him from all angles; the rotting half-eaten corpse behind the bush, the newly blossoming flowers in the brush beside him. He could hear every bird call and animal rustle.

Brander wandered for hours, following his instincts as to which direction to head. It rained for a few minutes, soaking him through without chilling him; it was a warm night. The clouds suddenly darkened the stars, but even that could not blind him.

It was past midnight when the goddess materialized before him. At first he felt familiar warmth; he recognized it as joy; then, a dull light appeared and grew into a tall tunnel of illumination. Rhianro emerged from that tunnel, bathed in all her luminescent white glory. Her skin was pale and flawless, her hair as dark as the night sky and her eyes twinkled with stars.

Brander was filled with happiness, love—and fear. She was here to make him change. Dread and shame clutched at his midsection. Males of the Varföd were not supposed to fear anything, yet he cringed at the thought; being forced meant he had been made to submit, and it didn’t matter if it was by his beloved goddess, or a sworn enemy, the thought of submitting was unacceptable. Instinct riled up inside him like a maelstrom, demanding that he fight or escape.

The goddess knelt in front of him, placing her soft hands under his chin. She smiled at him, exuding love as she did light.

My lady, release me. He begged her. She gave him a confused look in response.

From what my darling? She asked, her voice echoing in and out of his mind like a cavern, while she loosened her immortal grip on his jaw.

The change. Please my goddess, don’t make me change. His breath came in gasps as the wind pulled air from his lungs.

I have never forced anyone to change, Brander. I give this power as a token of my love, and it should be appreciated. Her tone became stern, and he could only pray that he had not offended her. Still, fear gripped him, and he had to at least try to avoid being subverted.

I must protect my people. They live in danger during my absence. Perhaps he could persuade her, even to just postpone it. Let me wait until after the war. When there is peace and security in the forest

I have patience, but I will not be delayed in this. Tonight was chosen, there is no other time. She stood straight, releasing his face, and held a hand over his head. The light emanating from her began to pulsate, and Brander panicked. Instinctively, he put up barriers across the sanctuary of his mind, a rushing waterfall that enveloped even his most public psychic links. Rhianro gasped, astounded and insulted by his withdrawal.

You dare attempt to escape my sight? She fumed, and the air around her began to spin angrily. Her light turned from perfect white to dark yellow and then faded to orange. I will teach you to crave the change. I will teach you what it means to reject such a gift. The young wolf threw his head back, clenching his teeth, while she leaned menacingly over him.

A moment later, Brander felt his heart tear as the goddess broke her bond to him. She ripped away the spiritual support viciously, leaving him wounded and bleeding in a way no medicine could help. The severed bond hung invisibly between them like a noose, ready evidence of the insult he had caused her, and the retribution she had taken. The lady vanished, leaving the forest dark.

He felt lost, without purpose or direction. His senses were fried, incapable of processing information. He started to run, afraid, aimless. Trees and bushes tore at his skin through his thick fur; many parts of his body were bleeding. A high root tripped him, sending him flailing to the ground. He could feel his head bleeding, and his vision swam. Stars danced above him, mocking his pain, laughing at his loss. He cursed them, hating them.

He continued to run, only trying to get somewhere else, without really knowing where he needed to be. He felt a strange sense of urgency; there was somewhere he was needed, but he couldn’t remember. It was far away, and long ago; but only recently. It was important.

He continued to run, trying to get there. He saw fire, and heard screams. He could feel the pain of his loved ones, through their bonds. Bonds. Through their Bonds. It was important. He was needed somewhere, but couldn’t remember. It was far away, but very important. He was needed. It was needed. It was important.

The trees curled up, encircling him, trapping and tripping him. He could feel his head bleeding, and felt himself slipping away. He was desperate not to submit, couldn’t submit, it was unacceptable. He couldn’t submit. It was important, he had to get there. This could not stop him, it mustn’t. Everything hurt. Each nerve was fire in his skin, burning. He saw flames and heard screams. His mind fought, trying to remember, trying to function. Nothing was right. This wasn’t right. He needed to get there.

The body refused to respond, lying motionless despite his demands. Darkness crowded against his vision, pushing dots in front of his eyes and slowing his lungs and heart.

Cursing his weak mind, he submitted, and fell unconscious.