The Muse Chronicles: A Wolf and His Cub


Lyn had been six years old when she had first met the man with the affectionate smile and bright golden-yellow eyes. Their meeting had been nothing special, and yet both clung to it for dear life. And though a full year hadn't passed since their first encounter, the little girl had come to rely upon the cheerful, overzealous, food-loving man.

And despite the fact that he turned into a monster when the moon rose full in the sky, the little one wasn't afraid of him, nor did she push him away. And the werewolf was glad that he finally had someone to hold onto. Someone who wouldn't run in fear, or chase him away with a cross or silver bullet. (Neither of which had any effect on him, whatsoever.)

So Wolf- for that was his name- made the habit of visiting the girl as often as possible. Usually at night when her family was taken by slumber, and he could play and talk to the girl uninterrupted. It had become a favorite ritual between the two. Once, sometimes twice a week, the wolf would come, and he would spend time with the little human, and for a time forget what he was.

And it was during his regular nightly visit, that Wolf found Lyn- hidden as far underneath her bed as she could possibly manage- cowering and sobbing, muffled by her arms and the carpeted floor.

But sadly, this wasn't a surprise to the half-wolf, as he crouched down on his hands and knees. For he had seen his little friend with tear stained cheeks, more times than he would have liked. But there was only so much he could do. Only so much, anyone could.

The man lowered himself onto his belly and reached out for the child, but she cringed away from his touch, whimpering like a dog that had been kicked by its master. The sound was nearly enough to make the wolf cry himself, but he didn't. He would be strong for his little one, and he wouldn't withdraw. Not when she so obviously needed someone. So instead of leaving her alone, the man reached out again and took one of her small hands in his own, holding it gently in his life-worn palm.

"Cripes," he cursed under his breath, as Lyn finally turned to look at him. She had obviously been crying for quite some time. Seeing as her entire face was blotchy red from the amount of tears that had fallen from her dark chocolate eyes, and her breathing was wracked with the intensity of her sobs.

But it wasn't the tears that made his heart drop- for how could they when he had seen them adorning the child's face so many times? No. . . It was the despair and absolute surrender that reflected in her young eyes that haunted him. For he had seen that particular look before.

It was the face of one who had given up hope.

Wolf rubbed soothing circles around her little fingers and knuckles, as he took in her grief-stricken countenance.

"I'm here, Lyn. What happened? . . . Huff puff, please don't cry, little cubblet. Not when your smile is so very bright and beautiful."

The little girl cried even harder at his gentle words, and the man felt his heart break; as it had every day since he had met her.

"H-He do-doesn't love m-m-me," Lyn cried sorrowfully as her sobs choked her, and her soft voice shook. "He-he said I was a m-m-mis-mistake! He said I ne-never should have been b-born!"

The man stiffened at the child's words and a low growl escaped his lips. "Who said such ugly things to you?"

The child didn't look at him as she answered, and her voice was so soft that he wouldn't have heard her, if it weren't for his enhanced hearing. But he did hear her, and her reply made his eyes turn their true feral-gold, as rage instantly filled him.

"M-My da-daddy doesn't l-love me. . . He doesn't. . . love me. . ."

"Lyn," Wolf said anxiously, but found that he couldn't continue. The half-wolf would have loved nothing more than to put the child's fears to rest. To claim that she was wrong, and that her father hadn't meant those horrible things. But in truth, he knew that the man hadn't said those things in anger. He had meant every word. The rotten, detestable coward that he was!

"Wolf."

Said wolf looked back to the child as she said his name, and realized that she had been watching him.

"Your eyes are yellow again," she noted with a soft snuffle.

"That's because I'm upset," he explained with a low growl. "He shouldn't have ever said that to you, cubblet. . . I'm sorry."

Lyn squeezed his hand, as if it were a lifeline. "He said mommy doesn't love him anymore, because of me. . . That all of our problems started when I was born. . ."

Wolf looked at the sorry child and whined- momentarily slipping into an animal response- before he said, "If your mother doesn't love him anymore, it's not got anything to do with you. He's made choices, and losing love might just be the consequence he pays. But never for one moment, do you believe him," the half-wolf cautioned. "Cause, he's dead wrong about you. You weren't a mistake. You were wanted and are loved by many. You'll always be needed."

The child listened to him silently for a moment before she moved to come out from underneath the bed. The man stood from the carpet and pulled her up with him, and they both sat on top of the bed instead.

Wolf watched as the little girl fought to stop crying, and quickly handed her his favorite handkerchief, which depicted the scene of little lambs out to graze. He thought that it might cheer her up- it had multiple times in the past, and he was a creature of habit.

Lyn accepted it and wiped her face off as best she could, with the misguided precision that only children have. Before she moved to give it back to him, but Wolf just shook his head. "Cripes, Lyn, you need it more than I do! And the little sheep seem to like you more than me, succulent little lamb choppers!"

Wolf lapsing back into his normal way of speaking and demeanor effectively helped to brighten the atmosphere, and the man internally sighed with relief. He had to make her smile again. . . Before he left for the night, he had to make this right. No matter what the cost.

Lyn looked up at him with a curious expression as she pressed the lamb handkerchief lovingly in her palms.

"You're different," she observed quietly. It wasn't a question.

"Different from what, my sweet?"

The child stared at him for a moment, her eyes red rimmed and pleading as she hesitantly reached out her six year old hand and placed it on his cheek. The girl sniffled as she patted her soft hand against the black, bristly stubble that peppered Wolf's cheeks and jawline, as she studied him carefully.

"You're not like daddy," she whispered as new tears formed in her sad eyes. "You're glad I'm here. . . Why do you always come back, even when you don't have to?"

Wolf gave her a soft smile. "Huff Puff, Lyn. Why wouldn't I want to be with my cub? Especially when she's so much fun, and plays hide-n-go-seek so very well!"

Lyn gazed at him, trying to see if he was telling her the truth, and almost immediately gave him a tired little smile in return. The truth of the matter was written all over his face, and was screamed all throughout his body language. The little girl could tell exactly what he was feeling when she looked at him. For he didn't hide his emotions, or lie to her- as other adults did- and he didn't make her feel small or useless.

When her Wolf smiled at her, it always touched his eyes.

"Do you really love me," the little girl asked, unsure as she slowly reached out for him.

The werewolf brought her into a fatherly hug and nuzzled her tenderly with a chuckle. "Yes, little cub. And I always will."

Lyn wrapped her arms around his neck and rested her head against the crook, as she began to cry again. But this time, it wasn't from despair or sorrow; because she wasn't alone. Wolf might not have been her real father, but that was okay. As long he was there, it would be enough. As long as she had his friendship, she would have someone there to love her. . . to be there for her . . to care.

So she leaned up and placed a kiss on his stubbled cheek with a wet smile and a hiccup. "I love you, Papa Wolf."

Wolf brushed his large nose against her own in an Eskimo kiss and smiled too, his eyes twinkling to show the inner wolf, as he looked at the child he had come to consider his own. "I know, little cubblet. I know."


Epilogue

Lyn was twelve when she got the letter; and it changed everything.

It wasn't the content of the letter that helped the young girl make her decision, but rather what it would mean.

The girl gazed down at the messy handwriting and overenthusiastic flourish of the words on the paper, and couldn't help but smile. At least, some things would never change. Wolf would always be a sweet, hyper, sincere goofball, and he would never stop his tirade of devotion and love. No matter what it might cost him in the long run.

"And your daughter will love you for it, my friend," Lyn whispered as she finished reading his message, and found his sloppy signature and farewell at the bottom.


I can't wait until you see her! She's a beautiful little wolf pup! Reminds me of a certain big sister who she is dying to meet!

Oh cripes. . . Virginia is calling, so I gotta go. Our gorgeous girl just woke up from her nap and is in need of her father's undivided attention. She's got my appetite!

All my love, little cub. And then some, until I can give you a humongous hug in person!

-Wolf


Everything had changed. Wolf had married the love of his life and had finally become a father. A true father. And though he would never push her away, and would always come if she called him, Lyn knew that nothing would ever be the same.

She wouldn't let it be.

Not once, would this little girl question her father's affection. Not once, would she feel as if she was second best. And not once, would Lyn be able to see the baby's face without wishing that it was her.

She had to let go.

Let go of her pretend father figure, and let him have his Happily Ever After. He had more than earned it; and Lyn knew that she would only ruin it for him.

So she moved to light a candle, and as the small wick began to glow, the young woman made a pledge. Wolf would always be her friend, but she wouldn't grasp onto him any longer. She would never ask him for help again. She would stand on her own two feet, and let him live his own life.

Lyn gazed down at the letter one last time, and felt a single tear escape her misty eyes.

"You were right Papa Wolf," the young woman said with a wistful smile, as she held the letter over the controlled flames and watched it begin to burn. "I'm still lost in the woods. . . But you can't be the one to find me."


Author's Note: The first installment of stories in a collect of oneshots I'm writing based on my relationships with my fanfiction Muses.

Wolf from 10th Kingdom was the very first one that I was attached to, so it seemed appropriate to post this one first. ^^ Updates will be sporadic, but I'll be posting the other one shots as different stories, since they span so many fandoms.

Please leave reviews. I would love to hear what you have to say about this project! I really need the feedback at this point.

~Lyn Harkeran