While you're all patiently waiting for chapter 3…here's something to tide you all over from dearest Kiwi who wrote this to cheer Apple up in her time of need. Aw.

The Wolf and the Doll Maker

The Big Bad Wolf strode quickly along the road, hands shoved deep into the pockets of his leather jacket. He didn't have anywhere particular in mind - he just wanted to cool his head a bit after yet another cruel rejection from Red. Admittedly, the hooded man had actually run after him and shouted an apology for treating him like rubbish this time, but he was still feeling somewhat out of sorts. He'd spent ten years trying to prove to Red that he wasn't just some random pervert after a few cheap thrills, after all. Sure, he teased the man mercilessly, and every once in a while he'd been unable to resist copping a feel, but on the whole he was sure that he had restrained himself quite honorably through the length of their long acquaintance. Despite this, Red always acted as though he were only one step away from molestation whenever Wolf was around.

Wolf sighed slightly and paused in his walking to admire the view. He was quite a long distance away from Tempus now; in fact, he'd just finished trekking north around the Fluffy Forest of Forbidden Fruits. The path had just leveled out after a bit of an upward slope, and he could now see the Demon's River, running a cheerful, bubbly path at the bottom of the next lowland. The path he was on wound straight towards the bridge crossing. Wolf stood for a while, rocking back slightly on his heels as he pondered whether or not he felt like crossing the river and into the Western lands. It had been over ten years since he'd been chased from Russet Town...Not that he particularly desired to return there, but then, who knew how long the folks there held grudges?

Then again, Maple Town was probably closer, and it wasn't as if he was planning on staying out here for very long. Shrugging, he resumed walking and made for the bridge. Maybe he'd stay in Maple for a day or two, and then return to Tempus in time for the masque. If he played his cards right, he might be able to get close enough to Red for a dance or two...he would have to be sure to be extra charming...

Wolf sighed again. He'd been so stupid ten years ago. Not only did he have the perfect hindsight which one always acquires after making particularly stupid mistakes, he also knew so much more about Red now, he could kick himself for being so thick-headed as to think that practically molesting him would cause him to return Wolf's feelings.

Of course, he had also been much more impatient then years ago. If someone had told Wolf back then that he would eventually become completely devoted to one person, and that he would put off all other distractions and pleasures in the pursuit of this one person, he would have laughed.

And yet, here he was, ten years later and without so much as a passing fling to relieve the monotony. Since he'd met Red, he'd been as celibate as a priest. It was troubling, sometimes, but Wolf really could not imagine making love to any one who was not Red. He supposed it was the wolf coming out in him - three generations had thinned the blood to the point that he could sleep fairly freely with many partners, but when it came to the one...

Wolf wanted to howl in frustration, but he suppressed the urge. It wouldn't do him any good, and it would probably alarm his fellow travelers on the road, as well as any local farmers or landholders living nearby.

What was it about Red that caused him to feel this way? Ten years ago the baker had looked like a fifteen-year old girl, while in fact he had been a fifteen-year old boy. Either way, Wolf had found him to be incredibly attractive. He still was, of course, though he still looked like a fifteen-year old. This only really bothered Wolf when Red accused him of being a pedophile - Because he wasn't. He couldn't help it that Red still looked much as he had when Wolf had first set eyes on him. Anyway, while it was Red's looks that had initially attracted his attention, Wolf was no longer terribly concerned about Red's appearance (though he did still enjoy ogling the other when presented with the opportunity). He had gotten to know the baker very well, he felt, throughout the years, and he couldn't help but love what he saw. At first glance, Red was a happy, care-free individual. Wolf knew that was all a front, however. Red was, Wolf felt, rarely happy. This was due to a combination of factors over which Red didn't seem to have much control.

First off was the situation with his godmother. Even the knowledge of Red's relationship with the somewhat terrifying Death was enough to prevent most people from befriending him. Wolf knew Red realized this, and so purposely held himself aloof from people, never working to pursue friendship...or love. If the 'chores' Red did for his godmother ever became public knowledge, it probably wouldn't be too long before the man was ostracized from society completely. Wolf knew the sorts of things Red did to help his godmother - heck, he'd sneakily assisted the baker with a number of his chores over the years, and it didn't bother him. What Red did must be necessary to maintain order in the world; why else would Death ask him to do it? This latest endeavor of Red's, that of cursing the princess Briar Rose into enchanted sleep, would no doubt have some important part to play in the years to come. Because people generally didn't want to see the big picture, however, they would only condemn Red for his apparent cruelty, and not attempt to look past the present and towards the future.

Wolf crossed the bridge, which was fairly busy with foot-traffic at this time in the afternoon. Traders and farmers were coming and going, exchanging stories and calling out greetings to each other. No one bothered to greet Wolf, but that was alright. No one usually did.

Once on the other side, Wolf quickly left the bright, crowded road in favor of the shady, secluded forest. It would take a lot longer to get to town this way, but he preferred the gentle quiet of the woods to the bustling of the road. It was probably the wolf in him - he was rather uncomfortable being on his own in large crowds of strangers.

The forest he was making his way through was unremarkable, and was, Wolf couldn't help but thinking, decidedly bereft of red-cloaked bakers.

For a moment, he paused and seriously considered turning around and running back to Tempus, but he knew that would be pointless. From what he could infer about Red's last chore, Red would probably remain in Tempus for some time, at least until the masque took place in a few weeks. Skulking about and shadowing the man was best done when he was on the move. He was much less likely to be noticed by a nosy busy-body neighbor tracking Red through the wilderness than lurking in the hedges or under the eves of some town-house or shop. He hadn't been forcibly removed from a town since he'd been kicked out of Russet ten years ago, and he would prefer to keep that record intact. Who knew how many different towns and cities he might need to enter in order to follow Red? Judging by the man's last encounter with the Wicked Fairy, Wolf would do best to keep his options open.

He walked for a long while, alone with his thoughts. Some time in the early evening, he realized that he wasn't alone; someone else was trekking through the woods, walking more or less parallel to him. He paused for a moment, standing absolutely motionless, listening. The other kept walking, either unaware of or unconcerned about him. Shrugging, he resumed his own trek, listening intently to his unknown companion. He wondered idly whether this person was the sort to offer a bed to a disreputable-looking stranger. Not that he minded sleeping outside, but he thought it might be nice to have the distraction of conversation to take his mind off his thoughts. A hot meal wouldn't go amiss either, though he could just as easily go without.

He thought about it for a few minutes and continued to walk, idly noting small signs that indicated to him that he and his unknown companion were nearing some sort of human habitation. In the end, he decided to make his presence known to the other. The prospect of a night with no distractions from his thoughts of Red was not a pleasant one. Even a couple hours of conversation would help...

The woods parted into a large clearing through which ran a small but lively brook. A mill was set up at the far end, as well as a small house and an even smaller barn.

"Oh...hello," came a calm female voice. Wolf turned to look at his unknown companion, and saw that she was a fairly pretty young woman, probably in her early twenties.

"Good evening," Wolf responded genially, smiling.

"Can I...help you with something?" the woman asked, cocking her head slightly and regarding him with dark eyes. The way she spoke was curious and halting, as though she carefully selected each word before she spoke it.

"Oh, not really," Wolf replied. "I'm just sort of passing through,"

"Oh...I see..." She tucked a lock of her waist-length black hair deliberately behind an ear, still regarding Wolf with her black eyes. Wolf found himself suppressing a shudder. There was something a little...creepy...about this woman. He almost felt as though he might be relieved if she didn't offer him dinner...

"Would you...like to join me...for dinner?"

Despite sudden rather strong misgivings, Wolf found himself nodding assent.

"Wonderful," she smiled then, and her whole face softened. Wolf found himself relaxing at the sight, and wondered when he'd become so tense.

The young woman ushered him into her home. He noticed several empty pegs on the coat rack, as well as the distinct smell of tobacco, as soon as he entered the house.

"Do you live here by yourself?" he felt compelled to ask, unsure why he suddenly found himself hoping that she was married.

"No..." she answered. Wolf's sigh of relief was cut short when she continued, "...I live here...with my father." She took off her cloak and hung it on a peg, then gestured at Wolf to remove his jacket and do the same. He did, and then followed her into the kitchen.

"Please have a seat," she said, gesturing towards the table. Wolf took a chair and sat, and watched as she bustled around the small kitchen, expertly setting up for what promised to be a very scrumptious meal. There was silence in the kitchen for a while, before Wolf thought that he'd probably better say something.

"My name is Wolf," he offered. The young woman paused in her preparations to look at him. Her face was very serious, and it gave Wolf a chill. But then she smiled and Wolf's discomfort evaporated.

"My name is Hannah," she said, and returned her attention to her pots and pans.

The smell of delicious cooking soon filled the small kitchen, and Wolf's stomach rumbled in anticipation of the upcoming meal.

"What time does your father usually get home?" Wolf asked, hoping to fill the silence somewhat.

"Not until...late," Hannah responded with a shrug. "He usually...goes into town...for dinner on Fridays," she told him. "Normally...he stays at the pub...until it closes."

"Doesn't it get lonely?" Wolf asked, curious.

Hannah shrugged again and lifted the lid of a bubbling pot to inspect the contents. "I don't mind...being alone," she said. "My friend Mark...lives a way down the road...he comes up for dinner sometimes."

"Is he your beau?" Wolf asked, propping his elbow on the table next to him and resting his chin in his hand.

Hannah paused and looked at Wolf for a moment, dark eyes intense and unreadable as the rest of her carefully neutral face. "...No," she said at length. "...Not as such."

"Ah...I see." Wolf responded.

"What about...yourself?" Hannah asked with a faint smile, before returning to tending the stove. "Do you...have a special lady?"

Wolf thought of Red and nearly snorted in amusement. "No," he said. "No lady."

"That's...too bad," Hannah said.

Wolf shrugged, even though she couldn't see, as her back was currently turned. "I'll survive somehow," he said with a small smirk. He'd done it for the past ten years; he'd find a way to do it for ten more...and beyond.

Can I really wait for ten more years? Wolf wondered idly as he watched Hannah through half-closed eyes. After all, he could count the number of times that Red had been nice to him on one hand...Two hands, if he counted Red's shouted apology in Tempus Forest just a day ago. Not a great track record, he had to admit.

But still...

"Would you like...something to drink?" Hannah asked, interrupting his thoughts.

"Um," Wolf briefly pondered if he felt like having a beer and decided that he didn't. "Water would be fine,"

"Alright," Hannah said. "Would you...mind drawing some? I'm afraid...I used the last...for the soup," she explained.

"That's fine," Wolf said, standing. "Where...?"

"The well...is out back. Here...is the bucket," Hannah said, handing him a wooden pail as she spoke.

Wolf was conscious of her eyes on his back as he made his way out the indicated door and into the cool evening beyond. He really had no idea what to think of her. She had moments of rather intense creepiness, but she also had moments of normalcy. He was inclined to think that she was simply a nice young woman who was just a tad...socially awkward? She was something, though, that was for sure.

He retrieved a bucket full of water with minimal trouble, and returned to the kitchen where Hannah was busy setting silverware on the table.

"Er...is there anything I can do to help?" he asked, realizing rather belatedly that he should have offered sooner.

"Oh...No, please...do not worry. I am...almost finished," Hannah said. "Just...have a seat..." she continued, gesturing at the chair Wolf had vacated and relieving him of the water bucket.

"Are you sure?"

"Please...do not worry," she said again, smiling softly. Wolf allowed himself to be persuaded and sat, though he fidgeted somewhat as she set a tall glass of water in front of him and put the finishing touches on the food.

Dinner was a hearty soup made of onions, potatoes, carrots, celery, and several other vegetables, seasoned with a handful of salt and a sprinkling of thyme. Accompanying the soup were ham and egg sandwiches, made on delicious, fluffy white bread which had probably been baked only that morning.

"This is delicious," Wolf said around a mouthful of sandwich.

"Oh...it was nothing," Hannah responded, but she seemed pleased by the praise.

Hannah became somewhat more talkative as the food was consumed, and the two had a very pleasant conversation. Wolf polished off everything she set in front of him, which seemed to make Hannah happy. He insisted on helping her clean up after, though, so she put him to work washing the dishes. She stood by him and dried them off with a towel. As they worked, they talked some more.

"So what kinds of things do you like to do in your free time?" Wolf asked, pausing momentarily from scrubbing the bottom of the soup pot.

"I like...to make dolls," Hannah said. He glanced at her and saw that she was watching him from the corner of her eyes.

"That sounds interesting," he responded, returning his attention to the pot in his hands. "If you wouldn't mind, may I see?"

"If...you'd like to see...I'd like...to show you," she replied. Wolf glanced at her again and saw that she was smiling happily.

"I would," he assured her.

"Alright, then...After we finish...I will show you," Hannah said.

They finished their chore quickly, and Hannah lead Wolf into the sitting room, where she picked up a large wickerwork basket from the corner, brought it into the center of the room, and seated herself on the floor next to it. She indicated Wolf should also sit, so he did so, after tugging his trousers up slightly in an attempt at propriety.

"A very nice gentleman...commissioned me...to make him a doll...a while ago," Hannah explained as she opened the lid and pulled out a limp plush form from the depths of the basket. "I...made two...the first for practice...the second to sell..." She offered the doll to Wolf, who took it with a faint feeling of foreboding. The little plush was outfitted in a red cloak, frightfully similar to the one worn by his favorite baker.

When he flipped it over to inspect its face, he felt a jolt of concern, which quickly settled in the pit of his stomach and began gnawing away at it.

There was no mistaking it - the plush was Red; it was not just wishful thinking on Wolf's part. Everything from the messy black bangs to the little white skull brooch on the cloak was the same. The brown button eyes regarded Wolf solemnly, waiting for his reaction.

"It's...very nice," Wolf said after a moment, realizing that he probably ought to say something. He pushed the cloak aside with his thumb and noted the little rose embroidered on the left-hand side of the plush's white shirt - the Reaper Bakery insignia in simplified miniature.

"This is...one of my favorites," Hannah said. Wolf glanced at her and saw that she was smiling gently at the doll in his hands.

"Um...if you don't mind my asking..." Wolf began, returning his gaze to the doll. He blinked when he realized it even had a splattering of freckles across its face where its nose would be, if it had a nose.

"Yes?" Hannah prompted after a moment, when it became apparent Wolf had lost himself in the contemplation of the doll.

"Who...asked you to make this?" he asked, finally pulling his gaze from the doll and resting it firmly on Hannah. She met his eyes and regarded him with a puzzled expression, but replied readily enough,

"Lord Alexander Heart,"

Wolf thought the name sounded vaguely familiar, but then, "Heart" was such a famous surname that it really was no surprise.

"Alexander Heart," he repeated quietly to himself.

"Why?" Hannah asked, face serious and eyes suddenly intense.

"Just...curious," Wolf responded, handing the doll back to Hannah. She said nothing, but took the doll and silently cradled it in her lap for a moment before returning it to the basket and pulling out another.

None of the other dolls Hannah showed him that evening were nearly as alarming as the first, though they were all wonderfully well made. Wolf was impressed with her skill; mostly because he possessed no artistic talents himself, and so was always impressed by people who could create things with their hands.

The evening wore on, and Hannah eventually offered to let Wolf sleep in the barn. Wolf accepted, figuring that he would have a quick nap and then take off on his own when the moon set. Hannah was...interesting company, and she seemed nice enough despite her outward creepiness, but he would prefer to not have to meet her again in the morning. Besides--after learning the somewhat troubling news that an unknown nobleman had commissioned a doll to be made of Red (his Red), Wolf wanted to get back to Tempus as soon as he could. He realized he probably would not be able to do much of anything while there, but the close proximity to Red would make him feel better.

Hannah saw Wolf settled in the barn with a couple of blankets and a fluffy bed of loose hay, then returned to the house.

Despite the somewhat pressing concern on his mind, Wolf managed to fall asleep fairly quickly - a full stomach and warm blankets make wonderful sleep aids.

Wolf sits on a grassy knoll - the summer sun is warm on his back, and a cool breeze blows gently through the loose hair around his face. He can smell traces of rain on the wind, though he can tell that there will be none here for several hours yet. Huge, fluffy white clouds float lazily along in the clear blue sky, and small birds flutter and dart high above the ground.

Then he hears footsteps behind him. He wants to turn around but finds that he can't, so he waits as patiently as he can as the footsteps approach. His unknown companion eventually draws even with him and settles to the ground next to him. A warm hand is placed over his, and he finds he can now turn his head. He does so, and blinks in surprise when he sees who has joined him on the grassy knoll.

Red smiles at him, brown eyes warm and inviting. Wolf smiles tentatively back, nonplussed. It's not often that he dreams about Red in such a manner. He realizes he must be dreaming, but does not mind too much, especially when Red scoots closer to him and presses up against his side, resting his head on Wolf's shoulder. Wolf wraps his arm around the baker, hugging him closer still. They sit like this for quite a while, until Red shifts slightly and slips an arm beneath Wolf's jacket and around his waist. Wolf glances down and is surprised to discover Red's upturned face is now mere inches from his own. He smiles happily into Red's warm brown eyes and kisses him softly on the cheek. As he pulls back Red makes a discontented noise and follows, catching Wolf's mouth with his. Wolf is surprised but pleased, and returns the kiss with enthusiasm.

Things move quickly from there, with Red initiating most of the contact, which makes Wolf so happy he feels as though he could burst. His eyes are closed as they share an exquisitely passionate kiss, when Wolf begins to feel that something is not quite on. He ponders on this as his hands explore Red's slim body, traveling up from his hips and tracing upwards along his sides and front. They break off their kiss and Wolf opens his eyes--

The first thing he noticed was that his normally comfortable leather pants had become extremely tight. This first realization was followed very quickly by a second realization, which was that each of his hands was cupped around an extremely inappropriate portion of a woman's anatomy. He quickly removed them and scrambled backward a ways from Hannah, who was regarding him with a very surprised expression. Her dark hair was mussed, and she wore nothing but a thin shift, the color of which he could not discern in the dim light of the barn.

"What...are you doing?" he asked, rather alarmed to discover how breathless he was.

"I thought...you...?" Hannah left the question unfinished. Her implication was clear enough.

"I...what? No! Where did you get that idea!?" Wolf shivered and realized that his shirt had disappeared somewhere. He shifted uncomfortably, trying to adjust his trousers into a more...accommodating position.

"You asked...if I had...a beau. You said you...didn't have...a lady. I thought...you might like..." she trailed off and shifted uncomfortably. While Wolf was not terribly interested in watching her, certain bits of his anatomy disagreed, and let him know about it. He was having a hard time focusing on the conversation with Hannah with every atom in his body screaming at him to get back to business and every instinct in his head ordering him to stop.

"I...did, didn't I?" Wolf said gritting his teeth and raising his eyes to the barn ceiling, hoping that removing the visual stimulus would relieve some of the pressure on his nether regions. It didn't.

"So...what is...the problem?" He could hear her moving towards him, but couldn't force himself to move away, even when she placed a hand delicately on his thigh. He tried to respond, but his throat rebelled as a shudder of pleasure coursed through his body at that simple contact.

Hannah seemed to interpret his silence as assent, and pressed her slim body once more against Wolf's. For his part, Wolf sat stock still and didn't resist when Hannah leaned up and began kissing him. When he didn't immediately pull away, she straddled his lap and continued to ply him with kisses, while her fingers traced goose-flesh trails across his chest and down his stomach. His hands came up of their own accord to wrap around her waist, though whether in encouragement or in order to stop her he wasn't sure. When her fingers undid the button of his trousers, however, he finally recovered enough control of his rebellious body to push her off of him and pin her to the ground beneath him.

"Please...stop," he panted in a ragged voice, barely louder than a whisper.

"Why?" she asked, her voice confused and a little hurt.

"I can't...do this," Wolf uttered, his voice harsh to his ears. Hannah blinked and simply looked at him, waiting calmly to see what he would do.

"I'm...in love...with someone...And I can't...I...can't..." he tried to explain around the haze of lust that Hannah had created in him, but he was having a difficult time speaking. Growling in frustration, he rolled off of her and rose clumsily to his feet. He walked purposefully if a bit unsteadily away from her, trying to ignore the painful restriction of his trousers.

"I...am sorry," Hannah said in a soft voice. "I...did not realize. I will go."

Wolf could hear her gather and don her clothes, and watched from the corner of his eye as she padded almost silently to the barn door. She hesitated a moment in the entrance, her figure silhouetted against the starlight.

"If...you do not...want to stay...for breakfast, I...will understand. But...I hope you will...give me the opportunity...to bid you farewell...properly." With that last statement, she was gone, returned to her house.

Alone now, Wolf was able to recover his shirt and ease his rather painful condition in privacy, with only his own thoughts for company.

---------

The sky was just lightening when Wolf shrugged himself slightly deeper into his leather jacket. He left the barn, and had just reached the western end of the clearing when he was stopped by a quiet,

"Um..."

He stopped but did not turn around, waiting for Hannah to speak again.

"I am...truly...sorry about last night. I...misunderstood...your intentions, and I...apologize," she said, sounding quite distressed. As this was the most emotion he'd ever heard her use in their short acquaintance, Wolf finally turned around to face her. She was dressed neatly as the day before, in a cream-colored blouse and navy blue skirt. Her hair was combed back in an orderly black wave down her back, and her eyes were downcast, intent on some invisible object at her feet.

"It's...alright," Wolf said at length, wincing slightly when he realized he seemed to be unconsciously mimicking her odd way of speech. "As you said, you didn't know. I'm not angry," he added, just to clarify. Her shoulders sagged slightly, relief evident in her posture.

"I made...some breakfast for you," she said, offering a bundle wrapped in a rather gloomy piece of grey cloth. "And...a gift...for you and the one you love," she continued.

Wolf blinked, surprised. "That's not necessary," he said, touched at her continued kindness.

"Please take it," she insisted, walking up to him with the bundle outstretched, offering it with both hands. Wolf was inclined to refuse, but the sincerity and earnestness in her manner convinced him.

"Thank you," he said, accepting the bundle. "And thank you again for dinner...and for a place to sleep."

The irony in his voice was not lost on Hannah, who had the decency to blush.

"Please...visit sometime," she said as he turned to go. "I...would like...to see you again. No strings attached."

Wolf smiled; though she could not see with his back turned. He lifted his right hand in a gesture of farewell, then strode into the woods.

-------------

The sun had risen fully by the time Wolf had crossed to the west bank of the Demon's River. He seated himself on the grassy bank a fair way away from the road, and opened the bundle Hannah had given him. Inside was a smaller bundle of the same grey cloth, set atop a large chunk of yellow cheese, a good portion of bread, and about ten strips of cold bacon. Wolf dug into the food with relish, polishing it off in record time.

He then picked up the soft bundle that was clearly not food, and opened it. Inside he found possibly the last thing he had expected: It was the little plush doll of Red, cheerful red cloak and all. And beside Red was...

...A miniature version of him. Longish silvery hair pulled back in a rather ineffectual ponytail, green T-shirt under a miniature black coat made from real leather, and a pair of tight leather trousers...

He stared at the two dolls for some time, completely at a loss. He had seen the Red doll last night, of course, but where had the one of him come from? Either Hannah had already had one of him made (which was really a bit too creepy for him to contemplate), or she had been awake all night making it.

Wolf sat on the riverbank for some time contemplating the two dolls. Eventually, he shook his head and snorted in derision at himself. Staring at the two plushes would accomplish nothing, and he had quite a way to travel if he wanted to get back to Tempus by this evening. He carefully placed the dolls into the pockets of his jacket, neatly folded Hannah's grey cloth, and stood, eager to get going.