So, this is the request from RussiaxPrussia4ever. I finally found the inspiration to do this by re watching Alpha & Omega. I also mashed up the werewolves from Twilight and traditional werewolves. Just to be clear, there are two different breeds of werewolves in this story. The ones that reproduce through biting others (Those are the traditional werewolves) and the ones that are more like giant wolves and turn back and forth from wolf to human at will (The Twilight werewolves). However, just because I got an idea from Twilight does not mean I like it. I don't. Anyway, I hope all of you like this brainchild of a request and my random brain. Also, I will not be bothered to write their accents, so just use your imagination.
Gilbert was an abnormality in the pack. He wasn't even a werewolf, and he never would be. The breed he had been taken into didn't reproduce through being bitten. Not like the more well-known ones that had no control of themselves and forgot who they were when they turned. Besides, he was fine with being different. As a baby, Gilbert had been found out in the snow by a mated pair of Omega werewolves that had just lost their only living pup to another pack. Naturally, the pair jumped at the chance to have a pup again. Their only problem was the fact that Gilbert was seen as a weakling and a burden. But the pack needed more members at the time. The harsh winters had taken many, the Alpha's mate included. So grudgingly, General Winter allowed the pair to keep baby Gilbert.
So Gilbert spent his years with the pack, learning their ways and how to adapt. The albino was never fully accepted, even by the other Omegas of the pack. The middle of the pack hardly gave him the time of day, and the Alphas and Betas acted like he didn't even exist. Gilbert grew into a bravado by the time he was in his early teens. It was really the only way he got attention from anyone other than his adoptive parents, and even that didn't last long. The only other pack member who seemed to care was Ivan, the se second and only male pup of General Winter. But that was questionable. Ivan would just watch Gilbert, a partial smile on his face, though it never reached his hypnotic lilac eyes. But because of their status, they never got to make much contact, and they didn't get to have very many conversations at first.
Gilbert was often picked on by the others in the pack. It felt like there was nobody he could please, no matter how hard he tried. The only one who seemed to acknowledge him was Ivan. Sometimes the werewolf would nudge him awake in the middle of the night and lead him further away from the rest of their sleeping pack. They would quietly talk, and Ivan would call him Малыша белый, and not tell him what it meant. Hey weren't exactly friends, and they were anything but that during the day. But it was nice, if not a little strange, to spend time with Ivan.
By the time Gilbert was nineteen winters old, he had adapted well to the life of a werewolf. He'd made himself a cloak from a large white wolf he had killed. Wearing the head as a hood, the forelegs tied around his neck and the hind legs tied about his waist. The rest of the hide easily covered his back, and the tail hung down to his calves behind him. The rest of his clothes and his boots were made of thick deer hide, save for the vest made of fluffy winter hare. Since Gilbert didn't have the claws or teeth of a werewolf, he made some weapons from bones and horns and whatever else he could find. Keeping up was another issue at the start. But years of building up stamina had helped to keep Gilbert fast. But he was still slower than most of the pack, so he had to come up with other ways. He was better at ambushing.
Ivan had grown, too. He was a huge man and a huge wolf. He towered over the rest of the pack at a staggering six feet and ten inches. As a wolf, he was a good three or four hands taller than the others. In both cases, Ivan had broad shoulders and big bones with a long frame to match. Gilbert could imagine that the Alpha's son was a giant in every meaning of the word. Ivan was the fastest and the strongest, rivaled only by his younger sister, Natalia. Everyone wanted to be Ivan's mate, even if he wasn't the most mentally stable wolf. None of General Winter's pups were, to tell the truth. Gilbert guessed that Ivan was about twenty three winters. He knew there was a definite age gap between them. The staring had never stopped, and neither had the late night rendezvous.
Maybe Ivan only did these things because Gilbert was different. The albino knew he was different. He had always been told so, but he was never told why. He was never told why he couldn't be a wolf, too. All he knew was that he was weaker and that he had to find a way around that if he wanted to survive. But Ivan never pointed any of these things out. The big werewolf made him feel like he really did matter, at least to someone.
So now, when the harsh winter set in, everyone had to prepare for it. What no one could have prepared for was the blizzard that came with it, the fat flakes of snow blotting out everything until it was nearly impossible to see past one's own nose. "Mutter*!" Gilbert called out, looking around him wildly. The wind carried his voice away no matter how loudly he yelled. "Vater*! He tried again, but with similar results. Somehow, Gilbert had been separated from the pack and was now caught alone in the raging blizzard. Not even the thick hides he had amassed could keep out the biting cold and vicious wind that swept around him, ripping at anything of him it could get to.
Gilbert hunkered down in the heavy snow, hoping that he would find some protection there. He started to feel warm; warm and numb and sleepy. It almost burned at first, like the wind was still whipping his body. But then it felt like he was curled up against his mother and father, their thick coats and his own keeping him comfortable. He thought of Ivan, and his thick coat and warm body. He could remember leaning against his huge shoulder some nights, and curling against his side or belly on others. Gilbert's eyelids were starting to droop, and in the back of his cold clouded mind, he thought he could hear something. It was hard to tell who it was and what they were saying, and Gilbert didn't particularly care right then. He was vaguely aware of the snow being dug out from around him and something large, warm, and furry taking its place. Almost like Ivan had found him and was using his own massive body to hide the albino from the cold. Something; whether it was in his head or from who or whatever had curled around him, was telling him to stay awake. It sounded like a stupid thing to do when he felt so content, but for once, Gilbert decided he should listen.
"Stay awake, Малыша белый*" The voice was familiar. Gilbert knew he had heard that voice somewhere, even if it wasn't directed at him most of the time. He felt a heavy, bony weight on his shoulders, what must have been a head. If he could just make it through this storm…
Alright, there you go. This will obviously be more than one chapter. I'll probably give it two or three more, if that's what people want. Keep in mind that this is my first Russia x Prussia fic, and I don't normally do anything related to this pairing. It's pretty much just an experiment and a request. So please be nice to me. No flames, but advice is welcome. Just remember that I love reviews just as much as the next writer and they are much appreciated. Thank you~
Translations
German
Mutter – Mother
Vater – Father
Russian
Малыша белый – Baby White