I've been sitting on this one for a while, adding a page here, paragraph there. Finally finished it, though! I adore PruCan, and this is my first fic to have it as the main pairing. It's also my first experimentation at RusAme. Hope you like! Life is currently very sucky, and updates to 'Aged Heart Meets Young Soul' might be few and far between. Please accept these one-shots as penance!

Enjoy!

Mathew slowly closed the door to the small house he shared with his brother, taking a moment to lock the door before setting out. It was still early yet, the sun just clearing the horizon, and Alfred was still sound asleep. His twin was a heavy sleeper, and while Mathew knew he could bang around as much as he wished, he still tried to keep the noise down.

The weekly errand was for the benefit of his other, older brother. Arthur had left the village as soon as the twins were old enough to look after themselves, knowing full well he wasn't welcome. The villagers might appreciate his presence when there was a need, but on a day to day basis the presence of a magic worker made them uneasy. Arthur might be a bit crotchety, but he wasn't cruel or malicious. Compared to some of the other witches and wizards Mathew had heard of, his brother was downright sweet.

Not that the villagers could be convinced of it. So Arthur now lived in a cozy cottage a little ways up the mountain. Mathew liked to leave early so he'd have time to visit with his brother before returning. A master at potions and other such things, Arthur couldn't cook to save his life. While he usually had people pay him with food, and he kept a few animals like chickens and a cow, the truth of the matter was that the only thing Arthur could cook with continued success was tea. So he usually accepted payment in things like cheese, fruit, and cooked meat. At least the vegetable garden was in good condition, thanks to the local Fay who had always had a soft spot for the wizard. On his weekly visits, Mathew usually brought more perishable things, like bread and cakes and precooked meals.

Today, he had two loaves of bread, a maple pound cake, and a small pot of beef stew. Mathew had double checked before he left, as Alfred had a bad habit of eating anything he could get his hands on and forgetting his brother had set something aside. This time, at least, the food had all survived the night. Assured of that, he'd donned his red cloak and slipped out the door.

Mathew reached up, idly making sure the hood was pulled up over his head. He knew he'd probably get teased for it if people noticed him more, but he didn't care. Mathew liked the cloak. Arthur had made it for him. It kept him dry in the rain, warm in the winter, repelled heat in the summer, and helped protect him. The last one was so far untested, though. He'd made something similar for Alfred, which was worn with equal regularity. Only the more rambunctious of the twins had received a long, brown, fur-lined brown coat. He wore it as much as Mathew wore his cloak.

It didn't look like Mathew would be needing the cloak's properties much today, though. The sun was bright, the sky clear, and the air was crisp, a lovely spring day that was neither too hot nor too cold. A perfect day for a hike up the mountain.

Having walked the path more times than he could count, Mathew let his mind wander. Today was Saturday, and no doubt Alfred would be in bed until noon, despite the fact he was the only one around to run the general store the twins maintained. Mathew just hoped that foreigner, the big man from the north, wouldn't make a nuisance of himself. Since he had moved into town a few months ago, he had developed a noticeable fascination with Alfred. It concerned Mathew, but his brother usually blushed when he ranted in apparent irritation about Ivan's antics. Why he enjoyed getting a rise out of Alfred, Mathew wasn't sure, but he noticed the way those lavender eyes looked at his brother. The big man was very creepy, at least to him, and he didn't fancy the idea of him making a move on Alfred.

Mathew was making good time. A glance up through a break in the trees told him he'd make it to Arthur's before the sun reached its noon point. He was quite happy with this, to say the least. He loved Alfred, really, but he missed Arthur's company. At least the wizard stopped for a breath once and a while, and occasionally stopped to ask him something rather than just talk at him nonstop.

He was rounding a narrow bend in the path with a loud yelp reached his ears, making him freeze.

It had sounded like a dog's yelp, he could tell that much. A yelp of pain. What had Mathew worried was what kind of dog it was. He was too deep in the forest now for it to be a stray from the village, so that meant it had to be a wolf. The question that plagued his mind as Mathew stared into the dense trees was what kind of wolf it might be. This was hardly a normal forest, otherwise Arthur wouldn't live in it. It could just as easily be a werewolf or skin-changer as it could be a regular wolf.

Mathew chewed his lip, glancing back down the path again. Finally, remembering just how pained the yelp had sounded, he set his basket down on the edge of the path and started picking his way into the trees. He opened his mouth for a moment, but then closed it. He already had mixed feelings about this anyway. The animal sounded hurt, but a hurt animal was just as likely to snap his hand off than accept the help it offered. He found himself hoping it was something besides a mundane wolf, if only so he would be able to help it. He wouldn't be able to do that if he couldn't even get close to it.

The yelp had sounded close, and it wasn't long before Mathew came across a small clearing. He stopped on its edge, breath catching. The only reason the clearing was worth the name was because a large tree had fallen some time ago, clearing a narrow swath that was now bordered on one side by a moss and grass covered log. Next to it was the source of the original yelp.

Mathew froze as he stood at the clearing's edge, breath hitching. The sound was virtually nonexistent, but the creature's gaze swung up to him in a heartbeat. White teeth were bared, a warning growl rumbling from the thing's chest. It wasn't a wolf, but it wasn't human either. It looked to be a skin-changer, if what he understood was true. Werewolves were either fully human, or large wolves that outweighed a man. This creature seemed human enough, save for the ears and tail he sported. What's more, it seemed to be albino, hair fur and skin all snow white, glaring eyes an eerie blood red.

Slowly, as Mathew stared at it, torn between remaining frozen or bolting, his eyes fell on the creature's leg. His heart twisted in sympathy as he recognized the source of the creature's pain. This skin-changer couldn't come after him if he wanted to. It's leg was caught in an illegal hunter's trap, the kind used for bears. Pointed steel jaws had clamped over the skin-changer's right leg, no doubt breaking bone. The only reason he wasn't bleeding was because he'd had the sense to leave it be. It took at least two people to pry open those jaws if you didn't have a key-fitted crank to do it properly.

Taking a steadying breath, Mathew said, "I'm not going to hurt you."

The growling gradually faded off, but those eyes still glared a warning at him. The white furred ears were still lowered, fluffy white tail unmoving, but Mathew took the lack of a growl as a good sign. Holding his breath, he took a single, careful step forward.

When the skin-changer kept his peace, Mathew took another, and then another. He eased closer, step by careful step, coming around to the other side of the trap. The wolf looked like he would be more interested in ripping his throat out than accepting help, but apparently the thought of being relieved of the pain of the trap was enough to earn his weary trust. Closer now, Mathew could see his skin glistening with sweat, white hair sticking to his temples with it. Considering how much pain he had to be in, he was keeping remarkably quiet.

"This is probably going to hurt," warned Mathew, kneeling down and wriggling his fingers between the jaws of the trap. What few people knew was that he was just as strong as his brother when he wanted to be, he just flaunted it far less. Not that Alfred flaunted it, per say, it just got noticed more when he hefted things. People usually noticed him dragging a laden cart down the street with one hand before they noticed Mathew doing the same.

The skin-changer was still glaring at him, and to his surprise opened his mouth. "How do you expect to open that by your-

It was cut off in a yowl, quickly muffled as the skin-changer stuffed his own arm into his mouth. Ears pressed flat, red eyes screwing tightly shut. Still, he kept from thrashing as Mathew slowly opened the trap, inch by inch. More than one scream was muffled by the arm, and when Mathew glanced up he saw blood rolling down pale skin as the skin-changer bit clean through his own flesh. His free hand clawed and tore at the log, dragging deep grooves through greenery and rotten bark. Despite all that, he managed to keep his leg still while Mathew worked.

Finally, Mathew was able to get it open enough to release the skin-changer's leg, and the wolf lifted it clear. Mathew jerked his hands free, and the blood stained points of the trap snapped shut with a sickening clash. Swallowing hard, he picked it up and tossed it aside, turning to look back at the skin-changer.

One hand was still buried in the log, fingers forming ridged claws, blood red eyes boring into him. Still gritting his teeth, the skin-changer asked, "Why did you do that?"

Mathew shrugged and reached down to open his belt pouch. "I couldn't just leave you like that. Here, you need to drink this."

He offered the small vial to the skin-changer, and was met by an even more suspicious glare. "Why should I? What's it going to do to the Awesome me?"

Mathew frowned. "That's a very odd thing to call yourself. It's a healing potion, very strong. My brother made it for me."

The albino was still eyeing the vial as if it contained poison of some such. "Let me guess, your brother is a wizard?"

"Yes."

"Which one?"

"Arthur, the one who lives up the mountain."

The albino blinked a few times, eyes moving to Mathew's face. "You don't look like him. I call him Eyebrows for a reason."

Mathew smiled wearily. "Yes, I know. He looks like our father, my other brother and I look like our mother. Now are you going to take it or not? If you're not, I need to bandage that before you lose too much blood."

The skin-changer glanced at his ruined leg, and apparently came to the conclusion risking the tonic was better than having the shattered bones handled by anyone. Grudgingly he took the small vial, jerking the cork free. Giving Mathew a weary glance, he screwed his eyes shut and threw it back.

Mathew grinned as the albino gagged after it was down, making a face. "The more powerful his potions are the worse they taste, I'm afraid. But they do work, all of them. Just give it a moment."

The skin-changer let him take back the vial, frowning. "I feel...unawesome, funny. What was in that?"

"A very powerful healing potion. He gave it to us just in case. Al's gone through several vials already, but he gets into a lot more trouble than me. Just give it a moment. Broken bones usually take a few minutes, but it hurts a little-

Mathew was cut off as the skin-changer erupted in profanity, though most of it was in a language he didn't recognize. He scrambled to his feet as he hurried to put distance between himself and the skin-changer, eyes wide. The albino was just clad in a tunic and breeches, both of which were stained with blood at this point, no leather boots or belt. The blood that had been quickly soaking into the cloth over his wound slowed, and Mathew could see the bite mark on his arm healing shut.

It took several long minutes, and no doubt they must have been an eternity to the skin-changer, but gradually the pain seemed to fade. As the agony lining his face seemed to ease, Mathew said, "You took that a lot better than Alfred does. When he has to take it, the whole town can-

He was cut off in a yelp as the skin-changer pounced, pinning him to the forest floor, a growl rumbling in his throat. Mathew stared, wide eyed, into a blood red and bloodshot gaze narrowed to slits. Hands pressed his shoulders to the ground firmly, knees pinning his legs. The skin-changer was putting his entire bodyweight into it, no doubt to counteract the strength that had recently been demonstrated.

Mathew opened his mouth, but no sound came out. What was the skin-changer doing? He'd just saved him! He'd even given him the healing potion, which Arthur had insisted was only meant for the twins.

How long they stayed like this Mathew didn't know. After what felt like an eternity, though, the skin-changer's head dropped down. Mathew screamed as teeth bit into his neck, just above the junction of his shoulder. He thrashed wildly, desperately trying to dislodge the albino. The grip on his shoulders tightened painfully, but the sharpened teeth remained in his neck. A growl rumbled in the skin-changer's chest, and gradually Mathew stopped thrashing. The creature wasn't ripping him apart like he'd thought, just sitting there. Burning pain had turned icy, now more uncomfortable than painful. What was being done he had no idea, but it felt...odd.

After several long minutes the albino dislodged his jaw, pulling away, grinning. Blood still stained his teeth and lips, making Mathew shudder. Then without a word he was gone, rolling off the human and darting off, quick as a flash.

Mathew sat up, pressing a hand to his neck. Aside from the rare and solitary vampires, he'd never heard of any creature going for the neck like that, save for a kill. Stranger still, when he took his hand away, it only had a few tinges of blood and saliva. Frowning, he rubbed at the spot again, but was unable to find an open wound.

Fumbling to his feet, Mathew stumbled back to the path. He grabbed the basket, hurrying up the path at a half run. There was river another half mile up the trail, and when he reached it Mathew hurried to the water's edge. He crouched next to a still pool, one that filled whenever the river overflowed its main banks.

His hood had fallen back when he'd been tackled, and Mathew shoved his hair back, turning his head to get a look at the bite as he bent over the pool.

There was no bite. At least, not one that he would have expected. He'd already wiped away what little blood had been there in the first place, apparently. There did seem to be something though... As Mathew bent down, peering carefully into the water's surface, a glint caught his eye. His heart sank as he realized that, instead of a bite wound, the skin-changer had left him with a silvery scar.

BREAK/BREAK\BREAK

Arthur was bringing up a bucket from the well when Mathew arrived. His own cloak, made in a warm green, was around his shoulders. Despite the fact his brother made no sound, the wizard set the bucket of water on the edge of the well before turning to greet him, smiling.

"Mathew, right on time. The trip was uneventful, I hope? How is...what the bloody hell happened?"

Mathew blinked, glancing down at himself. Seeing nothing out of place, he looked back at Arthur, only to find his brother staring at his neck. He grimaced. And he'd tried to hide it, too!

Arthur walked briskly forward, taking his brother by the shoulder to get a better look. He pushed away cloak and sun-blond locks, bushy brows narrowing in an intense frown. "This is fresh, Mathew. There's still bruising. What happened?"

"Nothing."

Emerald eyes met his gaze squarely. They could be pleasant most of the time, but when Arthur was displeased they could turn acidic in a heartbeat. Mathew wasn't used to being on the receiving end of it, as it was usually Alfred who earned their brother's wrath.

"It was hurt!" he blurted. "I couldn't just leave him there."

"What was it?" demanded Arthur, grabbing him by both shoulders. "What marked you?"

"Mark me how?" inquired Mathew, frowning. "It's silver, it's a scar already, what's that mean?"

Arthur's jaw tightened. Taking a steadying breath, he said in a dangerously calm tone, "That is the mark of a beast creature, Mathew. A mate mark. Only werewolves and skin-changers mark their mates as such. Now you are going to explain to me, from the beginning, why you were anywhere near one of those things."

Mathew froze. "Mate?" he squeaked.

"Yes, mate," said Arthur, blazing eyes belying the still calm tone. "Explain. Now."

So Mathew did, starting from when he'd heard the original yelp. The recalling was punctuated by occasional outbursts from Arthur, though. "You didn't have to help it! No one was holding a bloody knife to your throat!", "You used the potion? I told you two it was meant for you alone!", and "The moment it started working you should have run!"

Needless to say, Arthur was less than happy with what Mathew had done. He was pacing in front of his younger brother, a stormy scowl on his face. If he wasn't already fully aware of his brother's temper, Mathew would have been uneasy at seeing one of the most powerful wizards in the land so furious. That said, when Mathew looked at Arthur, the first thing to come to mind wasn't the title of a wizard, even now. He looked at the sandy haired man, and saw his brother. He'd grown up with him, and his temper. It would simmer down soon enough, it was just a matter of waiting it out.

Arthur was fuming when he stomped into the small cottage, bucket in hand. He tossed some water into a kettle, dropping the thing onto the stove and flicking his fingers at the wood waiting in the stove's belly. It burst into flames as Mathew set his basket on the table, plopping down on a chair to watch Arthur stalk about. He moved a small cauldron over the main hearth, adding a small amount of water to it. He went about, grabbing herbs and vials to add to the cauldron. Mathew recognized the ingredients as ones that went into the healing potion. Many were rare, potent ones that could be difficult to find, hence the potion's potency. But then Arthur was nothing if not prepared. It was rare to name a tool or ingredient the man didn't have salted away somewhere.

The more Arthur worked, the more he seemed to calm down. Eventually he sighed, slowly stirring the foul smelling brew in the caldron. "You're too kind hearted for your own good," he said at last. "You should have left it be. He has friends, you know. They would have found him before long."

"How do you know?" asked Mathew, frowning.

"Because those three have been harrying me for the last month. I've had to triple the intensity of the wards over my garden and the chicken coop and every single opening this cottage has. Blasted things turn to their animal forms and have at it. The white one, I'm assuming your albino friend, loved to see the chickens panic. He never ate them, mind, but he'd scare them out of their bloody little minds and I'd spend hours chasing them all down."

Mathew frowned. "He's not my friend, or my mate. I just helped him, I didn't think...

Arthur left the caldron, going back over to the stove as the kettle started to whistle. "I don't blame you, really. Aside from warning you away from them we aren't told much. Still, if something had to mark you like that I'd rather it be a skin-changer than a were-beast."

"Aren't there just werewolves?" asked Mathew, frowning.

Arthur gave a tired smile. "No, I'm afraid not. There's not as much variety as skin-changers, thank goodness. Now, unfortunately, once a bite is made that is it. For one reason or another, that blasted albino has decided he wants you for a mate."

"Does that mean he's going to follow me around?" asked Mathew weakly.

"I don't know. Frankly what I do know is from books. They do, from what I understand, only give the bite to someone they feel is a true mate, a soul mate if you will. It's mostly instincts, though, which might account for why he did it after spending all of five minutes with you. If he was in intense pain it would have heightened those instincts." Arthur had what Alfred called his 'scholarly face' on. His mouth wore a thoughtful frown, fingers tapping his chin, pacing slowly. "If you'd like I could give you a personal ward, keep him away from you."

Mathew hesitated. "I don't know a lot about all that, but...would it hurt him?"

"That's half the point."

"No thanks, then."

Arthur pinched the bridge of his nose. "Mathew, one of these days you're going to be too nice and it's going to get you killed. Just look at what's happened already!"

"What has happened?"

The wizard swung around, hurling a ball of green fire through the open doorway in the time it took Mathew's head to snap around. His eyes widened as a man ducked the missile with what looked suspiciously like practiced ease. When he straightened, he smiled at Arthur.

"Missed again, mon cher," he said, chuckling. A long, sleek tail twitched lazily behind him, the triangular ears standing out of shoulder length blond hair pointed forward. Another skin-changer, though unless Mathew was mistaken this one was a feline. A closer look reveled golden streaks in the furred appendages. A mountain lion maybe?

"Get out," snapped Arthur, furious all over again.

"I am out. You won't let me in," the skin-changer reminded him mournfully, lifting a hand to reach through the doorway. It met a shield of pearly green light, one of Arthur's wards.

"Why are you here now?" demanded Arthur, stalking over to glare up the two inch height gap. He wasn't the tallest person around, something that irked him more often than not, even with thick soled boots.

"Mmm? Oh, I came to warn you. It seems the bear is back."

Arthur stiffened. "What? When?"

"The beginning of the year. You know as well as I what year it is. You have brothers to worry about, oui?" he asked, giving Mathew a wink.

Mathew frowned. "What bear?"

Arthur turned away from the skin-changer, running a hand through his already mussed hair. "One of the great northern bear skin-changers. There are very few left, thank heavens. They usually keep away from human folk, except for when they're searching for a mate. It's a leap year, Mathew. The mate bonds formed on the equinox's of a leap year are always the strongest. Maybe that's why that damned albino bit you."

The blond skin-changer's ears pricked. "Gilbert? He bit you?" He frowned, peering at Mathew's neck. Then he grinned, chuckling. "Ah, I can't wait to tell Antonio. He was bragging just yesterday that he was too awesome to find a mate."

"Shut it, Francis," snapped Arthur. "Unless you have anything else of use to say, leave us be."

The skin-changer pouted. "You're no fun, mon cher."

"Then find someone else to chase. I'm not letting you bite me so get your bloody tail off my land."

Francis gave a long suffering sigh, drooping. "I just wanted to see one of the brothers you're always talking about. Is this one Mathew or Alfred?"

"I'm Mathew," he said, before Arthur could protest, nodding politely. "Alfred's back at the village."

"Oh! I almost forgot. That's why I came to tell you, mon cher. Your village is the one the bear has decided to stay at."

Mathew frowned. "I think I would have noticed a bear skin-changer in the village."

"No, you wouldn't," said Arthur stiffly, turning to him. "They're very large, even in human form. Tall, broad, big boned. But their ears are small, easy to hide under a hat or cloth. Their tails aren't much bigger."

Suddenly Mathew had a sinking feeling. "Eh, did you say northern bear?"

Both Arthur and the skin-changer were staring at him intently. "Yes," said Arthur, tensed. "You know him?"

"Kind of," said Mathew weakly. "He has, um...taken a liking to Alfred."

Mathew could have sworn he saw steam pouring from his brothers ears. He dove out the door, only to have Francis grab him, holding him back. The skin-changer wrapped his arms around the wizard from behind, sobering as he held him.

"Let me go you bloody wanker! I'm not going to let that that damned bear get my brother! You know what they're like, once they have a mate they disappear again."

"Perhaps, but you can't attack a bear like this," the skin-changer said calmly, mouth set. "Calm down, mon cher. You came here for a reason, did you not? They are old enough to take care of themselves, and you've told me yourself that Alfred never does anything Alfred doesn't want to do."

Mathew watched in fascination as Francis did something he had never seen anyone do before: calm down Arthur's temper. He considered mentioning how Alfred seemed to be unwillingly warming up to Ivan, but decided to wait. He was genuinely curious to see how this would pan out. Arthur had stopped struggling against the skin-changer, and though he was still hardly happy, he seemed to be calming down.

"If you are going to confront Ivan, do it when you're prepared. Don't go charging off. It won't end well, for anyone."

Arthur slowly closed his eyes, and though he was still scowling, he managed to speak in an even tone. "Very well. I will return with Mathew to the village. Now get your bloody hands off me before I rip your arms off and beat you with them."

Francis smiled, but released his grip, stepping back. "I will go with you, of course."

"No way in hell," snapped Arthur, stalking back inside the cottage. "Get off my property you bloody skin-changer. I have work to do if I'm going to make that bear into a rug."

Francis, lingering as close to the doorway as the ward allowed, pouted. "But mon cher, Ivan is the most powerful of the bear skin-changers."

"And I'm the most powerful wizard," Arthur snapped, quickly pouring the healing potion into vials so he could repurpose the caldron. "He won't get near enough to me or Alfred to do anything."

Mathew hesitated. Just last week Ivan had managed to corner the blond in an attempt to steal a kiss, but Alfred had managed to get away. He'd then promptly kicked Ivan out of the store and told him in no uncertain terms never to come back. It wasn't as effective as Arthur's wards, but Ivan had backed off in the physical department. At any rate, the fact that he'd listened to Alfred's wishes seemed to making his brother soften up.

He was wondering if he should mention any of this to Arthur, but when he saw his brothers face he decided against it. The wizard's eyes were literally glowing, and his scowl read murder as clearly as any book. Arthur was already as angry as he was going to get. The only reason he was staying long enough to prepare was because of Francis. If Mathew told him anything, he didn't think Francis would be able to stop him a second time.

BREAK/BREAK\BREAK

Mathew hung back as they made their way down the trail, watching Arthur and Francis carefully. His brother was all business, but Francis lightly padded down the trail, apparently unconcerned. If Mathew wasn't looking at him, he wouldn't have known Francis was there, moving silently along save for the occasional suave comment. He was clad in neat blue trousers and a ruffled white tunic, both clean and free of dirt, but like Gilbert he was barefoot. He had shoulder length blond hair not unlike Mathew's, but without the curl, and sky blue eyes. He wasn't Mathew's type, but he had to admit he was handsome.

When they were about halfway back to the village Mathew asked, "Just how long have you been after my brother?"

Arthur didn't answer, just continued his angry march through the forest. Francis half turned to smile back at him. "Three weeks, two days. We were in the next valley, but after twenty years we needed a change of scenery."

Mathew frowned. It occurred to him that anyone with connections to magic had slowed aging, and he wondered if that valley hadn't been their first home. He knew Arthur would live to be at least two hundred years, something he and Alfred tried not to think about. "So how old are you, anyway?"

"Twenty five. We all are. Don't worry, that bite fixes the little aging problem. It's why I can be patient with Arthur," he said, winking.

Hand drifting up to the silver scar, Mathew asked wearily, "What are you talking about?"

For the first time since they'd left the cottage, Arthur spoke up. "Besides marking you as his mate, it adjusts your aging process to match his. Skin-changers have a lifespan similar to wizards. It's the only reason I'm not skinning Gilbert before Ivan."

Mathew frowned. "Wait, so I'll live as long as you now?"

"You should," said Francis, cheerfully. "Handy, non?"

"Then why don't you want Alfred to like Ivan?"

Francis sighed mournfully. "Because skin-shifters don't have nice reputations, I'm afraid. A few bad apples and suddenly we're all awful beasts. But in this case, I don't blame him. Ivan doesn't exactly have a nice reputation. Even if he didn't, bears are notoriously reclusive. It would likely be decades before you saw your brother again."

"But he'd live as long as us, right?"

Arthur came to an abrupt halt. Slowly, he turned to level narrowed eyes at Mathew. In a dangerously calm tone he said, "Alfred likes him, doesn't he?"

Mathew swallowed. "Well...he doesn't hate him."

The wizard set off again, this time at a faster pace, muttering obscenities under his breath. Mathew hurried to keep up, Francis chuckling as he bounded lightly along. "You know, maybe I should fetch Gilbert and Antonio. Backup would not be amiss, oui?"

"No," snapped Arthur. "I can handle him."

"Ivan is infamous for a reason. Bears are notoriously spell-resistant, remember?"

"Which is why I was going to leave him be until he set his eye on Alfred."

Mathew pursed his lips. "Just how spell-resistant are we talking?"

"Well, he'll feel the spells, but..." Francis shrugged. "To be honest I've actively avoided bears. I don't know details, just that you don't want to cross them."

Chewing his lip, Mathew asked uncertainly, "Would having backup help?"

"It would not hurt, I know that much."

"If it will get rid of you then go get them already," snapped Arthur.

Francis winked at Mathew again, and turned to dart into the trees, disappearing as soon as he hit the tree line.

BREAK/BREAK\BREAK

Alfred wasn't in the store. From the look of it, the place had never been opened that day. It was mid-afternoon, which was later than even he slept. Mathew was starting to feel uneasy as Arthur led the charge to their small house, barging through the front door and bellowing, "Alfred!"

No answer. The hearth was still cold from when it'd been dampened the night before. There were dirty dishes in the basin near it, waiting to be washed. Annoying, as usual, but it was still a sign Alfred had woken up in time for lunch. Arthur was getting more agitated by the minute, though Mathew wasn't sure why he grabbed one of Alfred's tunics before leaving his bedroom.

Arthur stormed back out the front door, eyes glowing like green embers, hissing curses. "Bloody hell, where did he go? I thought you said he was good about not running off when he had to tend the store."

"He is," protested Mathew. "He's never done this before."

The wizard stopped, grubbing in the satchel he'd brought. After a moment he pulled out a clear crystal, muttering a spell. Soon the crystal began to glow, and Mathew stared as what looked like a wisp of blue smoke wafted up from Alfred's tunic, flowing into the thing.

"What's that?" he asked, frowning.

"A tracking spell. Come on, before those bloody skin-changers catch up." He folded up the tunic carefully, placing it in his satchel and tossing the crystal into the air. Rather than fall, it floated, and began drifting at a brisk pace.

"Why do you hate them so much?" asked Mathew, following Arthur as he set off again.

"I don't hate them," said Arthur absently,

"You just hate Francis?"

Arthur sighed. "I don't hate him either."

"Then why are you mean to him?"

"Why the sudden curiosity?"

"Because apparently two of them have decided they want us for mates," said Mathew crisply.

His brother snorted, but heaved another sigh. "I'm alone, and I quite like it that way. No one comes around unless they have work for me, except for you, and I quite like seeing you once a week. I can do as I please, work with what I please, without worrying about neighbors or townsfolk. The fairies keep me company enough. Everything was perfect, then those three start driving me bonkers. They're bad enough now, think how it would be if I did let them in. Besides, tame or not, I don't fancy having that cat hanging around. He doesn't do anything productive, just lies around all day and makes a nuisance of himself."

"Maybe if you gave him something to do he'd be more tolerable."

"Yes, well, apparently you like your suitor better than I like mine. We will discuss this later. He's close."

Mathew fell quiet again, watching as Arthur reached a hand out, recalling the crystal. The moment he wrapped his hand around it, the light died. He returned it to his satchel, slowing his pace as they neared a large clearing, a meadow really. As the brothers neared the clearing's boarder, they slowed, peering through the trees. Arthur was oddly quiet, and at first Mathew wasn't sure what he was seeing. Once he was sure it wasn't just him, all he could really do was stare too.

Alfred was in the clearing, and he was unharmed. Not only that, but he seemed to be having the time of his life. He was playing, frolicking, with the biggest, burliest grizzly bear Mathew had ever seen. It's fur was tipped silver, and it stood ten feet tall at the shoulder, easy. It's paws were the size of food platters, armed with wickedly sharp claws, and Mathew glimpsed a set of equally lethal teeth.

The bear, despite its massive size, seemed to be returning the favor dealt by the human. As Alfred darted around it, laughing, the bear seemed content to bound around at a loping pace, playfully butting and pawing at him. He never landed a solid blow, and the deadly claws never touched the blond. As odd as it was, the bear looked like he was being gentle.

"Come on, Vanya! You're not trying."

"Vanya?" muttered Arthur, barely contained outrage in his voice.

The bear huffed, and as Alfred tried to dart around him again, bent down to sink his teeth into the back of Alfred's jacket.

"Hey! Whoa!"

Ivan hoisted Alfred off the ground as he bounded for the other side of the clearing, throwing him up over his head. Alfred yelped as he landed on the bear's back, grabbing his scruff. Ivan kept running, picking up speed. As he did, Alfred whooped in delight.

"That's it," muttered Arthur, stalking into the clearing. He pulled out a small pouch, eyes glowing once more. He muttered a spell, extending a hand towards the two.

Just before Ivan reached the trees, the pouch erupted into smoke, flying after them. It coiled around Alfred, jerking him off Ivan's back. He yelled, and Ivan came to an abrupt halt, turning to run after Alfred with a snarl.

"Damn it Iggy, put me down!" yelled Alfred, struggling as the smoke brought him to a hover above Arthur.

"I will, once you come to your senses," Arthur informed him tartly. "Now shut up and let me protect you."

"I don't need protecting! He's not going to hurt me!"

Arthur ignored him, extending a hand outward. As a shield rose up around them, Alfred seemed to notice Mathew.

"Mattie, what the hell?"

Mathew grimaced. "Sorry. He's just worried."

No sooner were the words out of his mouth then Ivan slammed shoulder first into the shield. He roared, and the shield shuddered violently. Ivan tried to come around it, as until then Arthur had only formed a wall, but the wizard quickly expanded the shield into a dome that encircled all three of them.

Ivan roared, rearing up on his back feet. He brought both front paws down hard on the shield, and again it shuttered. Mathew heard a sickening cracking noise, and his heart sank. He'd seen Arthur's shields restrain a tornado powerful enough to rip a barn from the ground. Just how strong was Ivan?

"Alfred, make him stop," said Mathew uneasily, taking a step back.

"Gladly. After Artie puts me down."

Another double-pawed blow, followed by another sickening crack. This time Arthur winced, but he held his ground. Mathew's heart lurched into his throat. Arthur was skilled, but he was no god. He wouldn't be able to keep the shield up at full strength if he tried to go on the offensive. Until Ivan backed off and he could lower the shield, he was stuck.

"Alfred!"

"Fine! Hey, Vanya, chill! These are my brothers. I know he's cranky, but Arthur isn't going to hurt me."

Ivan hesitated, though he remained at his nearly twenty foot height. He sniffed, snorting the air, a low growl in his throat.

"Arthur, put him down," said Mathew quietly.

Arthur set his mouth in a tight line, but reluctantly had the smoke set Alfred own. Once he was lying on grass rather than air, the smoke evaporated. "Happy?" he grunted.

The bear dropped back down to all fours. Alfred stood up, huffing as he dusted himself off. "Geez, Iggy, what's your problem?"

"Don't call me Iggy," said Arthur absently. "He hasn't bitten you yet, has he?"

"No, why would he?" asked Alfred, sounding genuinely baffled. He looked at Mathew, jerking a thumb at Arthur. "What's with him?"

"Ivan has a bad reputation. It doesn't help that skin-changers have been irritating him lately. He really is trying to protect you, Al."

"I don't need protecting," argued Alfred. "Ivan isn't going to hurt me. Drop the shield, Arthur."

"Not likely. Leave, now." The last part was directed at Ivan, who only growled louder.

Alfred scowled, and stomped through the shield before Mathew could grab him. The shield kept things out, not in.

"Alfred!" snapped Arthur.

Ivan lifted one foreleg, using it to knock Alfred underneath him, earning another "Hey!"

Mathew could have sworn he saw Ivan smirk, moments before he rose up a third time, and hurdled his full body weight down on the shield. Another crack, and for the first time in his life, Mathew saw one of Arthur's spells shatter.

Arthur's eyes rolled back in his head, and his body crumpling. Mathew lurched forward, grabbing him before he hit the ground. The wizard groaned, dazed, but conscious. "Bloody hell...he actually did it."

"Ivan, don't!"

Mathew looked up in time to see the massive skin-changer lumber forward, bringing one deadly set of claws up to strike down at the brothers. He tried to drag Arthur back, but they weren't moving fast enough. Alfred was yelling at Ivan, trying to get up, but every time he got higher than his hands and knees he got knocked down again.

Time seemed to slow, Mathew staring up in horror as the massive paw came down towards them. He wanted to close his eyes, look away, something. But there was something chillingly captivating at seeing your death coming towards you.

Ivan's paw was feet away when a white streak slammed into him, sending the bear skin-changer stumbling several paces. Alfred rolled away, lurching to his feet, and stared along with his brother as an oversized wolf braced itself between them and Ivan, teeth bared, a guttural growl in his throat. While it wasn't as big as Ivan, it still stood six feet at the shoulder and was ten feet from nose to tail. Its shaggy fur was snow white, its eyes a set of blazing rubies.

"Friend of yours?" asked Alfred, startled.

It took a minute, but then Mathew asked, "Gilbert?"

Rather than answer, Gilbert sprang forward. Ivan reared back as the wolf latched onto his ruff, snarling and digging all four paws into his shoulder. A bellow that Mathew felt in his bones echoed from Ivan's maw as he tried to snap at Gilbert, who somehow managed to stay on without getting bit.

"Arthur, wake up!" he urged, giving his brother a shake.

The wizard muttered something, eyes fluttering. It sounded like "scones", but Mathew wasn't sure. Apparently having your shield broken took a lot out of you.

"Ivan, stop it! Ivan!"

Mathew looked up in time to see Alfred actually running towards the two skin-changers. "Al, what are you doing?" he demanded, eyes wide.

"Leave him alone!"

Gilbert clawed his way up to Ivan's back, and moved his grip to something a little more sensitive. The roar Mathew had heard before was nothing to what Ivan let loose when Gilbert latched onto the bear's ear. He reared up, twisting and turning. After a minute of this, and clearly still in intense pain, Ivan let himself fall backwards.

The wolf shoved off at the last minute, barely missing getting crushed. Gilbert tried to go for the bear's exposed belly, only to get slapped away with a yelp. He was back on his feet in a heartbeat, teeth bared in a snarl as Ivan rolled back onto all fours.

"I said stop it!"

Ivan seemed to hesitate, his big head swinging around to look at a furious Alfred. The human stomped up to him, and actually grabbed one of the bear's ears. Fortunately, not the one still bloody from being Gilbert's chew toy.

Yanking Ivan's head down to eye level, Alfred glowered into his face. "What the hell is wrong with you, dumbass? I told you, these are my brothers. You don't attack my brothers. If you don't stop it and go back to human mode right now I swear to God I'll rip you apart myself. You hear?"

Ivan rumbled deep in his chest, but stopped with a pained grunt when Alfred twisted his grip harshly. "I'll keep your stupid secret. But if you want that second chance, you'd better straighten up. Get the hell out of here, and don't come back until you can behave."

Mathew honestly had no idea what he was expecting. Frankly he was stunned Alfred was able to act like his normal mouthy self around a two ton grizzly. He certainly wasn't expecting Ivan to actually do as he was told.

He dipped his head, bumping Alfred's face with his nose, but then backed away. Alfred released his grip, and Ivan began to shimmer. In the space of a few heartbeats, the six and a half foot tall northerner Mathew remembered from the village stood before them. He gave Alfred a wordless smile, and turned to walk back across the clearing.

Gilbert didn't relax his stance or stop growling until he was gone, though. Alfred slowly turned, eyeing him once Ivan was out of sight. "So, uh, who are you?"

Arthur groaned, opening his eyes. "Damn it. Frog was right. Don't you dare tell him I said that."

Gilbert trotted over to them, shimmering back into human form to drop into a crouch next to Mathew. Flashing a grin, he said, "Is my timing awesome or what?"

"What's wrong with him?" asked Mathew worriedly, ignoring the question.

"Eh, Eyebrows just needs a break. If you don't drop your shield before it breaks, it gives you a totally unawesome shock."

Mathew frowned, but yelped as Gilbert tried to bury his face in his neck. He dropped Arthur, scrambling back. "What are you doing?" he demanded.

Gilbert laughed, but before he could answer, he was hauled upright by a hand fisted in the front of his tunic. His grin didn't waver as Alfred got in his face, not seeming to care about the human's scowl. "Hey, you Birdie's brother? The loud one?"

Mathew frowned. "Birdie?"

"Loud one?" repeated Alfred, scowling.

"Yeah, Eyebrows has two brothers. Birdie, the quit one, and Alfred, the loud one. I thought you two were supposed to be identical twins."

"We are," said Alfred, frowning.

"Let him go, Al," said Mathew absently, rummaging through Arthur's satchel. "He saved us, remember? Arthur keeps smelling salts in here, right?"

Alfred didn't look overly thrilled, but he did let Gilbert go. "Yeah. Next to that vial of arsenic. When did you get that scar?"

"Eh, recently," said Mathew, fishing out the small, slender vial of smelling salts. He noticed Alfred's narrowed eyed look, the one he reserved for special kinds of offenders, and it was turning towards Gilbert. Before he could think better of it he added, "You almost got one too."

"Wait, what?"

Mathew uncorked the smelling salts, thrusting them under Arthur's nose. It only took a few seconds before he was bolting upright, retching. As Mathew stuffed the cork back into place the warlock groaned, still coughing.

"Bloody hell. Didn't know it would be so potent."

Frowning, Mathew eyed the vial. "Eh, what exactly did you use?"

"Alfred's socks. Where's Ivan?"

"Gone. Now what do you mean I almost got that scar? How'd you get it?"

"The Awesome me gave it to him. He is now my awesome mate."

Alfred looked torn. Like he couldn't decide whether to pound Gilbert or throttle Mathew. Arthur didn't look any happier, but as he shakily got to his feet he asked, "How?"

"Al," said Mathew, returning the salts to Arthur's bag.

His brother frowned, taking the offered strap. "Alfred sent him away? That rampaging monster?"

"What of it? What'd he do, Mattie? Bite you?"

"Would you let it go, Al?" asked Mathew, exasperated. "If we hadn't shown up you would have ended up this way too."

"Hey!" protested Gilbert, pouting. "Don't say that like it's an unawesome prison sentence."

Mathew glared at him. "Oh, yes, it's much better. A skin-changer I've never met before decides a decent thank you for help is to make me his mate. Did it occur to you to, I don't know, ask first? Maybe give me your name? Not disappear right after in case I had questions? You're not awesome, you suck."

Gilbert looked like someone had wholloped him between the eyes with a shovel. Arthur looked quite satisfied with this, turning to march over to Alfred. "Right then. You two, get your mess sorted. Alfred, you and I need to have a chat."

Alfred looked like he wanted to argue, but Arthur grabbed him by the ear, hauling him off, ignoring the protests. Mathew waited, arms folded. He could see the gears churning, and since he couldn't exactly wash off a mate mark he was curious to see what Gilbert would come up with.

"Es tut mir leid," said Gilbert at last, voice grim.

Mathew frowned. "I don't speak German."

"I'm sorry, Birdie. It was unawesome to bite you then leave. But you're too awesome for the Awesome me to screw up. I didn't know I'd meet my awesome mate, I didn't think I ever would. The Awesome me went to get awesome advice so I wouldn't make you hate me like Arthur hates Franny."

Lavender eyes narrowed. He studied Gilbert, but either it was a very good lie, or the albino believed what he was saying. "You're telling me you took off so you could get relationship advice?"

"Ja. Antonio got stuck with this really pissy Italian, but they've been going steady for five years. I wanted to know how he did it. Franny caught up to me halfway there."

"Then where is he now?"

Gilbert grinned. "He's in my awesome dust. The Awesome me is the fastest skin-changer in the world. You should really appreciate the awesomeness you have for a mate."

Mathew gave a derisive snort. "Show me something that's actually awesome and we'll talk."

The albino clutched at his chest, stumbling. "Mein Gott, Birdie, you wound me! You don't think I'm awesome?"

The human took his sweet time pretending to think about it, letting Gilbert squirm. "Well," he said slowly. "I guess it was a little awesome when you saved us. But not awesome enough to get you off the hook."

Gilbert grinned, straightening. "It's a start. You will acknowledge my true awesomeness soon enough Birdie, the Awesome me knows you will."

Mathew rolled his eyes, but couldn't help the smile tugging at his mouth. "We'll see."

Es tut mir leid- I'm sorry

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