Edit: 8/25/14: If you are rereading this, I must apologize as I am going to confuse you! Since I first came up with this character, I've never really been happy with my choice of a name so I finally decided to change it. Andy is now Rory. Sorry to make such a drastic change so late in the game, but having the names Andy and Annie side by side was driving me nuts! And I like Rory much better. :)

Prologue: Hopeless Wanderer

I wrestled long with my youth
We tried so hard to live in the truth
But do not tell me all is fine
When I lose my head, I lose my spine

So leave that click in my head
And I will remember the words that you said
You brought me out from the cold
Now, how I long, how I long to grow old

So when your hope's on fire
But you know your desire
Don't hold a glass over the flame
Don't let your heart grow cold
I will call you by name
I will share your road

Hold me fast, Hold me fast
'Cause I'm a hopeless wanderer
Hold me fast, Hold me fast
'Cause I'm a hopeless wanderer
And I will learn, I will learn to love the skies I'm under
And I will learn, I will learn to love the skies I'm under
The skies I'm under

- Hopeless Wanderer by Mumford & Sons

Scotland - Spring 2008

Rory Monahan walked the quiet streets of a small village on the outskirts of Edinburgh late one afternoon. As he came to yet another unfamiliar cross street, he glanced down at the map in his hands with a sigh. He was usually much better at directions than this. Of all the times to get turned around; it was a full moon tonight and he needed to get out of town.

Rory gave up on the map and shoved it back in his rucksack. He looked up and down the street before spotting a small cafe in the row of buildings to his left. It seemed to him to be the only place that was really occupied on this quiet street at the moment. Deciding he didn't have further time to waste being lost, he shifted his rucksack on his shoulder and ducked inside.

The cafe turned out to be more of a diner, at least as the interior style appeared, and the only patrons were a group of young men huddled in a booth toward the back. They looked up as Rory walked in the door and something in their gaze made him feel uneasy. He quickly brushed it off, chiding himself for his general tendency to distrust people, and instead turned his attention to the young waitress approaching from the back.

"Afternoon," she greeted, tossing her hair over her shoulder and giving him a warm smile.

"Hello," he replied, suddenly feeling rather sheepish. "I'm afraid I'm a little lost. I was wondering if you could help me?"

"Well, judging from your accent, I'd say you're a long way from home," she answered kindly. "Where are you headed?"

"Pentland Hills."

"Ah," she said, "doing a bit of sightseeing then?"

"Yeah, I'm an outdoor kind of guy," he answered with a grin. "Thought I'd check it out."

She nodded. "Well, you'll need to get out of the village to start with."

Rory laughed. "That's what I was aiming for."

"Don't worry, you're not too far off," she said encouragingly.

The waitress proceeded to rattle off a complicated series of turn by turn directions that had Rory more confused than he was when he came in. He talked through it with her, and eventually got around to figuring out which way he was going. Once he felt confident, he thanked the waitress and headed out of the cafe.

He had walked a couple of blocks when Rory started to get the uneasy feeling that he was being followed. He glanced behind him and could see no sign of a single person on the street. When he turned back around, his path was blocked by three figures that definitely hadn't been standing there a second ago. Rory stopped a few feet away and squared his shoulders.

"Is there something I can help you with?" He addressed the men in front of him, realizing belatedly that these were the same men he saw in the cafe earlier.

"Did you hear that, Eric," said the tall man with the thick London accent, nudging the person beside him. "The Aussie wants to know if he can help us."

Rory fought the urge to roll his eyes at the comment. Though, he didn't expect these idiots to be able to tell an Australian from a Kiwi accent. They probably couldn't even find New Zealand on a map, but he didn't exactly feel like wasting time educating them on the matter.

"Look," he began, standing his ground. "I don't want any trouble. And unless you want this evening to end very badly for you, you'll let me pass."

The three laughed and the one called Eric took a step forward. "I'm afraid you're wrong about that," he answered. "Like it or not, trouble has found you."

He flashed a grin, revealing abnormally pointed canines, and Rory bit back a curse. You idiot, he berated himself, you should have known.

All pretense lost, Rory dropped his pack as he began the Change. His hands began to stretch into wicked claws and his canines extended. Before they could react, he launched himself at the vampires, claws outstretched.

The three barely managed to dodge the swiping claws in their surprise at this turn of events, but they recovered quickly. As one, the vampires threw themselves at the Changing werewolf, bringing Rory to the ground.

"Shit!" One of them shouted as they struggled to contain him. "How is he Changing already?"

"I don't care," Eric shouted back, "put an end to it!"

As Rory struggled against his assailants, he was suddenly overwhelmed by an intense pain as something hard and heavy came down on his head. Then the world went black.

When he opened his eyes, Rory found himself lying on the cold concrete floor of a small room with a single high window that was much too small to be any use. He sat up slowly, rubbing the back of his throbbing head as he tried to bring the world back into focus.

Before he could recover, the door opposite him suddenly burst open and two vampires strode into the room. They seized him by the arms, yanking him to his feet, and all but dragged him from the room.

As he stumbled out into the light and down a flight of stairs, he shook his head to try and clear the buzzing in his ears. As he rounded the corner into a large open space in the center of the building, he realized the sound wasn't in his ears, it was voices. There were dozens of vampires gathered around the room and in the dead center was a large metal enclosure.

Rory struggled against his captors, digging his heels in as they dragged him further into the room. His resistance only earned him a punch to the stomach as they finally reached the cage and the vampires flung the door open, throwing him inside. He struggled to his feet as the buzzing in the room got louder and the noise did little for the pounding in his head. As he tried to get his bearings, the door on the opposite end of the cage suddenly burst open and a man was thrust inside. He looked worse for wear in his torn dress shirt and tie hanging loosely around his neck. Rory suspected the vampires probably grabbed the guy on his way home from some office job. His blood ran cold as the full gravity of the situation suddenly dawned on him.

He's human. I'm about to Change, and they've thrown me in with a human.

Rory had heard rumors of these sort of fights before, but he'd always chalked it up to prejudices between vampires and werewolves. He never believed the stories to be true. Now he cursed his own naiveté as he looked at the man the vampires believed they had sent to his death, and they may have been right. Rory may be able to Change at will, but during an actual full moon, maintaining control could be difficult. It is the only time during the month that the Change is forced on him. He can control it to a certain point, but if he is threatened, the Wolf's instincts kick in. He knew that if this human chose to attack him, there would be little he could do to contain the Wolf.

"Ladies and gentlemen," came the drawling voice over the amplifiers. "Welcome to the show! It is my pleasure to present to you our two contestants for this evening; a working class bloke fresh off the streets of Edinburgh against the lone wolf from Down Under!"

"Oh, for God's sake," Rory muttered under his breath.

"Only one will survive," the announcer continued, addressing the cheering crowd. "So, place your bets, ladies and gents! The show is about to begin!"

Suddenly Rory doubled over as a sharp pain shot through his body. It's starting. As he regained his breath, he turned and addressed the other man in the cage. "Hey, what's your name?"

"Trevor," he replied, eyeing him warily.

"Trevor, I need you to listen to me very carefully," Rory began, trying to hold back as long as he could. "I know you probably don't understand what's happening here, but whatever happens, you need to keep as much distance between yourself and the Wolf as you possibly can, do you understand? I can keep it contained as long as you don't present yourself as a threat. I'm sorry, but it's the best I can do."

The man stared at him incredulously. "You're mental. The lot of you!"

Rory groaned in frustration before he was suddenly overwhelmed by a new wave of intense pain. He dropped to the ground on his hands and knees, breathing hard. "Move to the other side," he ordered. "Just do it!"

The man finally obeyed, retreating to the opposite side of the cage as Rory finally lost control and the Change began in full.

Where Rory had been kneeling, a tawny colored werewolf rose in his place. The Wolf began to pace the cage, testing the metal enclosure with his claws. He ignored the man now cowering in the corner, instead trying to rip through the metal in order to reach the vampires on the outside.

The crowd was clearly displeased with this unexpected turn of events as the two occupants of the cage kept as much distance between them as possible.

"Let me out!" the man shouted through the bars at the two vampires deep in discussion on the other side. "You can't leave me in here!"

One of the vampires, the announcer, turned and sneered at the man. "The only way you're getting out of there is if the Wolf is dead." He pulled out a long hunting knife and kicked it under the enclosure where it skidded to a halt at the man's feet. "So get on with it!"

The man stared at the blade at his feet before looking back at the vampire and shaking his head. "He said he wouldn't harm me if I kept away."

"Well then," said the vampire, "there is always the alternative. You can leave the beast to us and we'll drain you dry." The vampire grinned, baring his fangs. "Your choice. It's you, or him."

The man recoiled from the wall of the cage and looked back at the knife on the ground. Reluctantly, he bent to retrieve it, turning his eyes to the Wolf on the opposite side of the cage. He gripped the handle of the blade and took a tentative step forward.

Sensing the threat, the Wolf turned to face him, baring his fangs in a warning. The man was struck by how human the blue eyes look in the terrifying visage. "I'm sorry," he said, averting his gaze. The man lunged.

The Wolf dodged the blade easily, swiping at the man with his claws and missing him by inches. The man swung wildly with the blade, this time cutting across a clawed forearm, and the Wolf howled in pain. The Wolf swiped again and the man stumbled backward, blade still in hand.

As the Wolf prepared to lunge, he was distracted at the last moment as the crowd outside the cage suddenly descended into chaos.

A lone figure cut through the assembled vampires wielding a long silver object in his hand. Any who stood in his way were swiftly reduced to dust as he moved through the crowd. The rest simply fled in panic rather than face this new threat.

The moment's hesitation cost the werewolf as the man in the cage used the distraction to his advantage. He thrust upward with the knife in hand, jamming the blade between the Wolf's ribs.

The Wolf howled in pain and the man just barely managed to roll out of the way as he lunged for him. But that was all the energy he had to spend and the Wolf collapsed to the ground, his breathing ragged, as he tried feebly to remove the offending object from his torso.

Suddenly the door at the opposite end of the cage was wrenched open and the man scrambled toward the exit. He stopped as he took in the appearance of the tall man in the doorway with the silver stake in his hand.

"Go," the stranger said, stepping aside to let the man pass. "Get out of here while you still can."

The man didn't need to be told twice. He ran out of the cage and headed for the exit without looking back.

The Wolf lifted his head as the stranger moved into the cage and let out a low growl. He could smell a vampire a mile away in this state. The two locked eyes for a moment and the vampire retracted the weapon in his hand, depositing it in the inner pocket of his jacket. He took a step forward with his palms open in front of him, demonstrating that he wasn't a threat.

He approached slowly, maintaining eye contact with the Wolf.

"You can understand me, can't you?"

The Wolf grunted in response, eyeing him warily as he struggled to maintain consciousness.

The vampire moved closer, kneeling beside the Wolf where he laid. He broke eye contact just long enough to glance at the knife protruding from the Wolf's ribcage.

"I'm going to take this out," the vampire said, looking him in the eye. "Is that alright?"

The Wolf stared back, boring into him with his gaze. The vampire's eyes were kind, compassionate even… and old. Very old. Unlike any he had encountered before.

The Wolf was in a great deal of pain and breathing was becoming more difficult. He stared into the eyes of the vampire for a moment longer and finally gave a small nod.

The vampire extended a hand and gripped the handle of the blade. Then, as carefully as he could, he pulled it free.

The Wolf grunted in pain as the blade was removed and his vision swam. As the bleeding worsened, his eyes began to close of their own accord and he was soon lost to the darkness.

When Rory opened his eyes, he was lying on the couch in an unfamiliar apartment with bright sunlight pouring in through the windows behind him. He glanced down to discover that there were bloodstained bandages wrapped around his ribs. He sat up slowly, his whole body aching, and started to unwrap the bandages. He was relieved to find no visible trace of the injury as he ran his fingers over the place where the knife had been. There were some perks to being a werewolf, after all. He was still a bit sore, but his injuries had healed.

Rory swung his legs over, planting his bare feet on the floor and glanced around the room, taking in his surroundings. The place was very neat and almost too clean. The furniture was a little sparse, but seemed comfortable enough. From what he could see, the room seemed to lack any personal touches and Rory got the impression that this wasn't a place that anyone spent a lot of time in.

He caught a familiar sight out of the corner of his eye and was relieved, albeit a little surprised, to find his rucksack on the floor beside the couch where he'd lain. He reached over, digging out a clean shirt from the inside, and pulled it over his head, glad to no longer feel so exposed in a strange place. He stood up from the couch, his muscles aching in protest, trying to decide what his next move should be.

"It's good to see you awake."

Rory started at the voice and spun around on the spot. He hadn't heard the other man approach.

"I'm sorry," said the man in the doorway. "I didn't mean to startle you."

Rory eyed him cautiously, recognition slowly coming back to him. "I remember you," he said. "From last night. You killed all those vampires."

The man inclined his head, leaning against the doorframe with his arms folded across his chest. "I did what needed to be done."

"But… you're a vampire."

He offered Rory a weak smile. "We're not all monsters, you know. I'm sure you can relate to that."

Rory nodded, lowering his gaze. "I'm afraid I haven't had many positive experiences with vampires to this point," he answered.

"I understand."

"But then again, I've not exactly gotten on with too many werewolves either," he continued. "I sort of keep to myself."

Rory looked up at the vampire warily, unsure of what else to say. He didn't know why he was rambling on like this, but then again, he was a bit out of practice with people. Let alone someone from the supernatural world. Or maybe he was still suffering from that head injury he got last night.

As if sensing his discomfort, the vampire stepped further into the room and extended a hand. "My name is Lucian. Lucian Harcourt."

Rory offered a weak smile and gripped his hand in a firm handshake. "Rory Monahan," he said. "I suppose I should say 'thank you,' for last night. You probably saved my life."

Lucian shook his head. "I was only doing what's right."

"Well, most people wouldn't have," he replied flatly.

The older man studied him for a moment, his expression unreadable and something seemed to flash behind his eyes, but then he blinked and it was gone. "Well then, Rory," he said, "the bathroom's down the hall if you feel like getting cleaned up, and then you should probably eat something. It's getting late."

Rory looked at him in bewilderment, "I wouldn't want to be any trouble."

Lucian waved him off. "Nonsense," he said. "It's the least I can do."

In the end, Rory relented. In all honesty, the only thing he had wanted right then was a shower, so he trudged off down the hall to do just that. He emerged a while later, feeling much more refreshed and comfortable in his favorite pair of jeans and a faded blue t-shirt. He could smell food cooking the moment he stepped into the hallway, and when he rounded the corner he found Lucian standing in the kitchen making breakfast. He hovered in the doorway for a moment, still feeling unsure about things, until Lucian turned around and motioned him inside.

"You must be hungry," he said. "Why don't you come and sit down?"

Rory obeyed, easing himself into a chair at the kitchen table. The hot shower had helped somewhat, but he was still pretty sore. As Lucian set a plate in front of him, he finally realized just how hungry he was, and the two ended up eating in silence as Rory was too focused on the food.

"So, where are you from?" Lucian asked once they were finished.

"Auckland, originally," he answered before adding, "New Zealand. I've moved around a lot."

Lucian nodded. "That's a long way from home."

Rory smiled weakly. "So I am continually reminded," he said, drinking his coffee.

"How did you end up in Scotland?"

"It's a long story," he replied, and his eyes were a little sad. "I don't usually stay in one place very long."

"I see," said Lucian, studying him curiously.

"So, 'Harcourt,' that's a very old name," Rory commented, looking to turn the conversation away from himself. "There were Harcourts among the Norman invaders of England as I recall."

Lucian looked impressed. "You know your history."

He shrugged. "I read. A lot."

Lucian nodded. "Well, your sources are correct. My father fought under William the Conqueror at the Battle of Hastings. He was then given land in Leicestershire. That's where I was born."

Rory stared at him in disbelief. "But that's- that would make you-"

"Nine hundred and forty," he said with a grin.

Rory's eyes widened in shock as he began to grasp the full weight of what Lucian was saying. "You're one of the Old Ones," he concluded.

Lucian's grin widened. "I am."

The blonde shook his head, hardly believing what he was hearing. "I thought that was just a myth. I mean, I know vampires are immortal, but I didn't think there were any that have been around for that long."

"Well, truthfully, there aren't that many of us left," he admitted. "But there are others that are older than I am."

Rory studied him inquisitively across the table. "God, there must be so much history in your memories. The things you must have witnessed in your lifetime, I can't even imagine."

Lucian smiled in amusement. "You really do like history."

He shrugged. "I just like to learn I guess," he answered, suddenly feeling a little sheepish. "I've… been this way since I was sixteen, and that's when everything changed. I didn't really get to finish school, so I guess I've always just tried to make up for it on my own. I read about everything; history, fiction, culture, religion. It makes me feel like I'm still part of the world. Still human."

When Rory was finished speaking, he sat staring at his hands in his lap, having mixed emotions about having just shared so much of himself with a total stranger. Lucian watched him intently, feeling a pang of sympathy that someone so young should seem so burdened. Because that was what he saw when he looked into his eyes; a young man who seemed to be carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders.

"Well then," said Lucian, causing the blonde to look up as he spoke, "what would you like to know?"

When Rory was captured by a group of vampires on that fateful evening in Edinburgh, he didn't think he would survive, let alone walk away from it all with a friend. He stayed with Lucian for as long as the vampire remained in Scotland. It seemed they had both been a little in need of company after traveling so long on their own and they got along well.

The two would often talk for long hours about history and the different places they had been. Rory had a keen interest in hearing Lucian's perspective on various events compared to what he knew. History is only ever written by the victor, he would say.

On the nights Lucian would hunt on his quest to rid the world of rogue vampires, Rory would often accompany him. The pair made a pretty good team, though it also helped that Rory had complete mastery over the ability to Change at will.

Even after they parted ways, the two still kept in touch from time to time. Rory found it difficult to settle in one place for too long as nothing ever really felt like home and Lucian always had other business to attend to. But any time they found themselves in the same city, they would often seek each other's company. In fact, there were a few times they ran into each other quite by accident. Rory had taken to hunting rogues on his own throughout his travels and oftentimes he would cross paths with Lucian as a result of that common endeavor. It had been an unlikely friendship to begin with, but fate tends to work in strange ways.

Present day

Rory is sprawled on the bed in a cheap hotel just outside of Inverness with a copy of The Silmarillion spread across his lap. As he turns the last page on Akallabêth, he is startled back to reality by the shrill ringing of the telephone on the nightstand. He lets it ring a couple of times, wondering who on earth could be calling, before finally reaching over to pick up the receiver.

"Hello?"

"Hello, Rory."

Rory grins. "You know, it's a little creepy when you do that."

He laughs.

"How are you, Lucian?"

"Well," he sighs, "that's sort of what I wanted to talk to you about. I need your help."

Rory sits up on the bed, setting the book aside. "Another rogue clan?"

"Not exactly," he answers. "It's actually more of a werewolf problem."

"Well, you know I'm the expert there," he says with a grin.

"Of course. How would you feel about coming to England? Bristol, to be more specific."

"Well, you know me," says Rory. "I never stay in one place for long. What did you have in mind?"

And so we begin again! This chapter has been the bane of my existence for the past two months, so I can't tell you how happy I am to finally have it completed. Beginnings and endings are the hardest to write, I swear. So thank you all for being so patient with me, I'm sorry I made you wait so long. Now that I've got past this one, I know it'll be a lot easier for me to keep the flow going!

I hope you enjoyed this introduction to my Kiwi werewolf. I've really fallen in love with him, and I hope you will too. The song I chose at the beginning is pretty much his theme song, so that may give you a bit of insight into Rory's character. I absolutely love Mumford and Sons and this song was a major inspiration for me.

So, strap in my friends, because this baby is finally taking off! The next chapter will actually be a bit more Mitchell-centric. He's sort of dealing with a lot right now… *evil grin*

Thanks for reading! Please share your thoughts! :)