Hey everyone, it is Paradigm of Writing here with a new one-shot of mine called Ashes. Got the idea last night while playing some of Brawl, going through Classic Mode on Intense as Sheik (I LOVE her in SSB4, she's one of my favorite characters), and I got to Stage 11 where you do the FFA against three random characters, and one of the choices was Wolf. For some reason, it got me thinking... what about a Sheik x Wolf pairing? I know that may sound horrifying to some, but I find it creative, and it never hurts to try. Last time I wrote about Wolf was all the way back in my Cross Examined days, two years up to this point... and I made him a villain. He needs more time in the spotlight, which is what this is all about. I hope you enjoy the piece as much as I have had the fun of creating it, and thanks for reading it to begin with.
He's back at the counter again. She can feel his presence by the hot breath coming out from his snout, the ragged breaths and the occasional sound of claw marks against the painted walls. There is a burning in her to just kick him like the idiotic puppy he truly may be, but that'll spur up a fight outside of a Smash stage... which is something no one in the mansion necessarily wanted.
She would find him being stuck in the most oddball groups ever, often hanging out with Falcon to see who could chug the most beer before passing out. Often times the blonde haired warrior would find herself being one of the people carrying both dumb men to their room. All Sheik needed to do now was whisper in the canine's ear to screw off or the next place one of her needles in a brawl would go would be right up his rectum. She didn't know too much about foreign objects up in a male's behind, but she reckoned it had to have hurt.
But, once again Sheik found herself getting a cup of coffee from the luxurious breakfast buffet and there he was, eating eggs and bacon like the predator he had been born to be. She wasn't one necessarily for the upmost table manners, but having decency would help a long way. After taking a swig, she garners a response. "You're eating is starting to have my own appetite run off. I haven't eaten yet, and now with the sounds of your scarfing, I think the acid within my stomach is trying to signal me a message. AKA, don't eat the eggs!"
The animal at the counter pauses from his daily meal. There is a perplexed eyebrow raise. "I beg your pardon, Shook, but I've eaten sloppily like this before and you have not once made a comment against it. All of sudden you come about acting like Palutena towards me... you are almost as bad as one of the princesses."
Sheik clenches her jaw tight, noticing the clear butchering of her name, which she can tell he is doing on purpose to perhaps offer a jest of humor that isn't even funny. Another swig of coffee declares his fate as she stomps over to the counter, slams her mug near the sink, leans over said kitchen appliance, and gets within one inch of his snout. She glares. Her ruby eyes often kept people in line.
All Wolf does is smirk back at her, forking through the forest of eggs. "Your anger is charming, I must admit. Perhaps it'd be better in a place other than the tiled kitchen."
Her face burns in embarrassment at the clear indication of his innuendo. It had been no uncommon secret that the space mercenary took an applicable fondness to the girl covered in scarves, denizen of the Hyrule universe. She would often find him observing her from afar, not creepily, but staring in admonishment as she trained. Sheik could never admit it to anyone that she found the attention pleasing, but most certainly Wolf could not know the true reason behind it.
"In your dreams." she hisses at him.
"Perhaps in yours too," he snarks back. He tosses the fork into the kitchen sink with a clatter. "For all I know, you've dreamed of me more than once. All I simply have to do is go to Rosalina's quarters and ask if I can take a sneak peek into the dreams of the other fellow Smashers. I can assure you, I'll most definitely be in your conscious tonight from our little meeting."
Sheik observes him in a bewildered manner, unsure of whether or not she should be furious or bemused. He gets up from his chair, deposits his plate into the spacious sink, and goes out of the dining hall. She watches him go, her voice yelling at her to perhaps apologize, but she cannot do a thing about it. All he ever does is promote his feelings for her, and what does she do? Sheik yells it back in his face, in ways that are cruel.
The troubled Hylian blinks, then goes back to drinking her coffee with a subdued silence about her now.
She decides to keep a journal and record the number of times the mercenary encounters her steps throughout a day's journey. This would entail all the brawls, every time they'd pass each other in the halls, when a Smasher would mention his name... would it seem like chance that there'd be all these collisions with nothing happening into between them?
Sheik straightens out her braid as she gets out of the tub, wrapping a towel around her waist to cover all the godliness a woman can possess, and exits the bathroom soaking wet. Her next vision half terrifies her, half angers her. Wolf, the slimy jerk, is sitting on the couch by the back wall of the main quarters, looking through some sort of notebook. He's been in her room... while she bathed. Sheik feels her blood run cold, but it seems as if he had only just arrived.
"Are you out of your damn mind!" she hollers at him, trying desperately to keep the towel up from his intruding eyes.
Wolf blinks as he looks up, as if he had been stirred out of shock. "Oh... I had no idea you were in the tub. Excuse me for intruding."
"Trust me, you're excused," Sheik snaps disdainfully. "What do you want?"
The lupine furrows his eyebrows, seemingly forgetting why he stopped in a female Smasher's room of all places. His eyes flicker across the room, observing every nook and cranny. An ocarina sits on a shelf by its lonesome self, begging desperately to be touched. Wolf acknowledges its existence, but does not stir. "I came by to see if you wished to spar."
"That's it? That's all you came by to ask me?" Sheik's voice rises in a rage. "You couldn't have waited, or at the very least knocked?"
"Slipped my mind." he answers truthfully.
"Well, my response is no-" she starts, beginning to point furiously at the door when her own eyes catch what he had been reading in her absence. Her journal. Of every encounter, with every date and time they met. Crap. Oh crap. Sheik mentally kicks herself out of frustration. "Why would you just leave that out in the open? Master Hand will be giving me quite the scolding."
"What is this?" Wolf asks, showing her the pages.
Another fire dwells in Sheik's cheeks at this point, from scalding rage to pure embarrassment. "That... that is just... um..." For once the blonde is at a loss for words, she bites her lip in a stalling moment.
He flicks through the notebook, reading occasionally over a few of the entries. "June 16th, 2016. Time of encounter, 5:37 P.M. Ran into him, the lupine, once again in the hallway as he made his way to the ballroom dance. Though I am glad to have refused in going to spare myself the prying eyes, I shall say to myself now, he looked very dashing in his suit."
Sheik scratches the back of her neck. She had been caught red-handed. That son of a bit-
"I didn't know you kept a journal of every time we met." Wolf cuts off her insult, sounding genuinely pleased.
"Well, when I bump into you that many times a day, one starts to take notice."
"Is that so?"
"Yes."
"Well, you think very highly of me," Wolf grins into the folds of the couch. "Did you really think I looked dashing in that-"
"Out!" Sheik commands rather forcefully, grabbing Wolf up by his free arm and pushing him through the gaping open front door.
On the way, her towel drops, leaving the blonde warrior completely exposed and naked. She does not notice this as she pushes him out, and when he turns to say goodbye, there Sheik is, naked and everything. His mouth falls open, his eyes widen, and all she could do is frown at him in curiosity before she notices the sudden coolness drenching her body. A true feminine shriek, and she slams the door.
Sheik slides down against it as she hears Wolf's slowly retreating footsteps. He just got a great, grand eye opening of her this time, didn't he?
"Master Hand really will kill me now..." she groans to herself.
Journal Entry #4023, July 19th, 2016. 12:00 PM
We both took each other's library books. I checked out something in dealing with sewing, perhaps to balance out my needle throwing techniques. Seemed silly of me at the time. He grabbed one on comets, a plan of manipulating one to destroy Fox's Arwing... he had to stop by my room once again to give me the correct book. Noticed the ocarina. Promptly shoved him out the door. His question pleased me, I however did not want to answer. Luckily, there was no dropping of any towel this time. No naked body for him to see.
Sheik has this thought race by, as she balances herself precariously on the edge of one of the balconies overlooking the mansion's gardens. No matter what hallway she skirts down, there is flash of some sort of memory with Wolf. Pressing him against the windowsill because he ticked her off. His toothy grin. His apologetic bow. His aristocratic arguments with Lucario about patience over action. Down below, some of the youngsters are playing soccer. Her heart warms up at the sounds of their yelling, encouraging words and bold smack talk being the radio play of the hour. The ledge she practices on gives way to a fifty foot drop, maybe more than that. To fall from such a height wouldn't kill her perhaps, as she'd be landing on grass. There'd be a broken bone, maybe one, or two... or three... or four... or a multitude of them. Depended on how you landed.
Her hair is fluorescent in the glimmering sun. Sheik mimes a jab, then a quick uppercut. The warrior keeps her eyes shut as she lifts one foot off the ground to lean it upwards so one leg is in the air, the other firm against the stone. Someone in the mansion called her form of practice a mix between yoga and slow dancing, by learning how to balance on one foot, do all sorts of moves.
When she opens them again, Wolf is standing there as an imaginary image. She cannot get rid of him. Perhaps she doesn't want to. But seeing him angers her, though she knows it is not real. She does a kick, but her foot slips, she is off balance from going too quickly out of the pose with her leg in the air. Her foot slips, there is a rush of wind in her ears, the kids down below stop their game and are screaming her name in terror. She can hear them, she can hear them, she can hear the pain in their faint voices. Her arms go flailing. Panic stirs within her, though she is a stoic woman. Sheiks closes her eyes, maybe waiting for the pain.
A hand grabs her, furry, rough in movement, gentle in intent. Perhaps Fox or Lucario managed to snag her just in time. She opens her eyes, though the sun blocks her vision. Whomever saved her is a dark cloud, a dark figure. Her rescuer comes into view as the sun hides behind one of the mansion's spires. Wolf is gripping onto her wrist for dear life, his amaranthine eyes wide in fear. He looks as if he thought he was going to lose her. He was going to truly lose her.
A pit of despair drops into her stomach, but she swallows it away. "Thank you."
"You're welcome." he says genuinely. He doesn't give her a second to recover, going in for a hug as he wraps his arms around her in a tight embrace, one hug that had a million words flying between them.
"I'm-" Sheik starts.
"Don't do that again. Please," he whispers into the crook of her shoulder. Together, in their embrace, you can feel the mercenary shudder. "I thought I was going to lose you. I can't go through with that again."
"I promise." she interrupts him, backing away from the hug.
I promise.
Embers fall gently to the singed carpet floor of the mansion's many hallways as Sheik crumbles to her knees, tears threatening to billow over. An explosion in the kitchen downstairs had leeched to a few of the upper floors, and her room had been one caught in the blaze. No one had been injured, thankfully, but a few of the rooms were unsalvageable.
Sheik lets some tears fall as she stares hopelessly at the smoldering wreckage of what used to be her little place of solitude. Everything was gone. Her photos with the Smashers, her needle set, her scarves... even that stupid journal with all of the Wolf encounters. She can hear running, someone is calling her name, but she does not have the heart to turn and let people see her like this, being such a wreck.
When the voice that had been calling her now screams in desperation so she can at the very least turn, Sheik does so. And there he is. Wolf O'Donnell, unsure of how to react. His hands are hovering, merely absorbing all the pain and all the sadness stirring through the floor. He crouches by her, and he grips one hand of hers in a claw of his own. She rests her head against his shoulder, crying deeply so even the door frame, burnt, but partly intact, to quiver in the reverb of her sobs.
"I'm sorry..." he whispers after a moment of silence.
"You have nothing to be sorry about."
"I shouldn't have chased you like I did. Even in the very beginning."
"Perhaps I should've..." Sheik bites her lip. She has no way of going about this. "I never got to properly thank you from saving me off that ledge... I promised to never be reckless, hardly a fair reward."
Wolf laughs, it is a harsh and bitter snarl. "I do not need a reward, Sheik."
She grins, and they fall silent again. He rubs one finger over hers, the softness of his fur lightly and gently easing the pain and anxiety out of her nerves... Sheik's breathing begins to steady, and she is sitting back upright, head propped against the crook of his shoulder this time though there are no tears. "Everything is gone... even if Master Hand could somehow replicate whatever I have lost... it wouldn't be enough."
"What did you lose, exactly?"
"Too many things to list..." Sheik exhales.
"It'll be alright."
"Will it?" she looks him in the eyes, almost pleading for an answer.
Wolf stares back, at first hollowly, then with strength behind his voice. "Everything can be rebuilt again, Sheik. Especially a home."
Sheik doesn't know what she's doing, but she has her arms around him, her face pressed up against his snout as a sort of kiss, and they are lying against each other on the floor. Her head rests against his chest. His words just sounded so... pure, and realistic. How could he possibly know how she truly felt?
"Sheik..." Wolf breathed, her head rising and falling with that of his chest. "I love you."
Her blonde hair is tucked back, the scarf is gone, and she is smiling. "I love you too."
They sit back up, staring once more at the burned room. Once more, they are quiet, and once more he has a claw gently wrapped around her hand.
"Wolf, can you do this for me?" she asks him suddenly, locking eyes once more.
"And what would that be?" his response is of curiosity, his eyes gentle, his face weak but strong.
"Never leave me. Even when we have the ashes of our world crumble around us, stay with me."
He nods deeply, understanding. "I promise."
There was that statement again.
I promise.
Together, the two sit in the frame of the burnt doorway and watch as the ashes of the destroyed room fall to the floor.
There we are you guys! I hope you all enjoyed it! I had a lovely time writing this, and I think I'll have to add this pairing into the unconventional list... maybe I'll visit it again, who knows. Thank you all for reading, and if you liked it, leave a review and let me know what you thought! I'll be having an Icarus Chronicle chapter sometime tomorrow I'm hoping through my busy, but not really busy and lazy summer schedule. Who knows... maybe Wolf and Sheik will make an appearance in that too? Hahaha, I'm kidding. I hope you all have an amazing day. I love you all! Bye!
~ Paradigm