Written by lilgirlsix and Archangel_M
Edited by Doctime
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lilgirlsix: I think this is the chapter that drove Doctime crazy. Well, the first one to drive him crazy. AA and I had an idea about how these 19
th
century characters differed from those in the present. Thank you, Doctime, for giving us ideas and options. We may not always have agreed, but we were always grateful!
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Archangel_M: This one drove me crazy too; it took me quite a long time to get right. I hope you folks enjoy it! ^_^
The music suggestion for this chapter is
"Broken Wings"
by Mr. Mister.
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Glossary:
- geliebter Wolf
-- German -- "Beloved wolf"
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{
Language Note:
Hungarian dialogue is in plaintext, <and German dialogue is in carrots.> Thanks once again to
Fräulein
Anne for her help with the German!}
January 17, 1858
Willi reached out, but could not feel Zsálya's sleeping mind. He had purposely been going to sleep earlier in order to dispatch
den bösen Wolf
before it had a chance to terrorize his sweet little angel. This was the first night that she wasn't there waiting for him. Before he had time to worry, he remembered this was the night of the full moon, what Zsálya called the "Ice Moon." Her twin would be mating in an elaborate ceremony. As she had explained it to him, Guillame would lead the pack's betas on a hunt. If they did not return with sufficient game to feed the pack, Orsolya would reject him as a mate. Of course, it was merely a formality. Zsálya had said that game was plentiful this year, and her brothers knew the hunting grounds better than anyone. Zsigmond and Istvan would not let Guillame fail, Zsálya had told him.
He wondered how her sister's mating would affect his angel. Just the act of kissing between Orsolya and Guillame had affected her greatly. Would she feel their actual mating? Willi pondered that as he waited in the In-Between. After what Zsálya had told him last night, he had spent the day in the several libraries of
Schloss
Helsing, digging up anything even remotely related to Werewolf bonds. He had not come across anything such as Zsálya and Orsolya shared.
Finally, he felt Zsálya's dream consciousness, but to his surprise, it was in disarray. That was the only word for it. Her dream felt dark and brooding, not her usual state of mind at all. This worried him, but there was no use in getting upset until he knew what was happening.
Upon entering her dream, Willi stood still for a moment and looked around, noting the unusual silence. He looked down and saw the snow had turned to slush, intermixed with mud. The trees surrounding him were bare. The sky was solid overcast, and the mood of the dream was somber at best. His heart sank. This was even worse than he had imagined. Something must have gone horribly wrong. He steeled himself for whatever might come and called a greeting.
He waited, but no Zsálya. He called again and thought he could faintly make out the sound of sobbing. His chest tightened and his stomach clenched. "Zsálya!" he called out, hoping to elicit some sort of reply. He walked carefully towards the sounds and easily spotted her through the bare trees. Her hair was matted, her dress torn and filthy. Her face was flushed and sweat beaded on her forehead. <Mein Gott,
what has happened to her?>
"Zsálya," he whispered, "what is wrong,
meine Freundin
?" He waited until she acknowledged his presence before moving forward and pulling her to his chest. She clung to him as she cried, and nestled into his body as she felt his hands slowly stroking her hair and back.
"Oh, Willi, I cannot live this way. Every time he touches her, I feel it just as she does. My father had to carry me from the mating. He must be so ashamed." She struggled to speak through her sobs. She could feel herself beginning to calm now that her friend was here with her. Zsálya buried her face in the crook of Willi's neck, taking deep breaths of his fennel and woodsmoke scent.
Willi closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He cradled Zsálya in his arms and rocked her as if she were a child. "Shhh, you have done nothing wrong. I am sure your father was only thinking of your privacy." He looked around for a place to sit and, finding none, began to walk while Zsálya cried. He found a rock and slowly sat, trying to keep from jostling her as best he could. Settling her in his lap, he could watch her face as she continued her explanation.
Zsálya sniffed and gave her friend a weak smile as he stroked her ebon hair and brushed it away from her face. He pulled a handkerchief from his sleeve and wiped the tears from her reddened cheeks. She looked into his ice-blue eyes, afraid she would see disgust, but she saw nothing but concern and love. She leaned into his shoulder and shut her eyes, doing her best to calm herself, concentrating on Willi's tender ministrations.
Willi gauged her improving state of mind by the changes that came about in the dream. He looked at his feet and saw that the mud was gone, replaced by fluffy white snow. The sky had cleared, and the trees regrew their leaves before his eyes. He continued to stroke Zsálya's hair, and decided he would not press her for information. When she was ready, she would tell him. He recalled a song that Zsálya had taught him, the one that her grandmother had sung to her when she missed her mother. He began to hum it, hoping he had it just right.
He felt her body relax in his arms and he took the opportunity to speak. "Did I get the song right?"
Zsálya's voice was soft in his ears. "You did it perfectly. Thank you, Willi. Grandmother used to sing that to my mother when she was a cub, and she says my mother sang it to me and my sister. I love it, and you were wonderful to remember it!"
