The story begins with the Beast saving the life of the Huntsman. Rather than out of charity, the purpose of this act was to gain something.

Chapter Two: The Wolf At The Door

The Huntsman awoke to the sound of a fire crinkling. Dazed and disoriented, the man started to return back to the world of the living. He forced his eyes open and took in the sight around him. He was greeted by warm, bright colors with shadows accompanying the light. He looked around and he saw that he was in a hut of sorts. It was a circular shape, maybe ten feet in diameter. A small fire was the cause of the light. It was nestled in the center of the room. Besides the human and fire, there was little else that occupied the hut.

He went to move his body and he found himself confined. Panicked at first, he realized that a heavy blanket was the thing restricting his movement. Using the little strength he had, he pushed the covering off his body.

After being able to take the blanket off, he realized how easy his arms moved. He expected there to be pain in his shoulder. The Huntsman moved his hand to his shoulder and slipped his fingers between the flesh and clothing. There was no wound on his body, not even the bulge of a scar. After he sat up, he went to check on his leg. But before he could do so, he froze at the sound of someone coming in.

"Awake, are we?"

The voice was back now. Eager to see who held the voice, the Huntsman turned his head in the direction of the sound. As he absorbed the creature before him, his mouth slowly opened as his eyes filled with awe.

The first thing he noticed was the skin. It looked like dark leather sprinkled with gold which in of itself was interesting. Eyes traveled from the skin to the black and blue, form fitting clothing. They were expensive material and the quality was exquisite. Curls of brown hair touched the shoulders in a scraggly and unkempt manner. From the hair, he went to the eyes. The eyes were what intrigued him the most. Not even the odd skin could compare to the deep pools of yellow. The man's eyes were yellow. A rich, lovely dark yellow like they were liquid gold.

"You saved me…" The Huntsman replied, almost dumbly. He didn't know how to feel. He supposed that "grateful" would be a great place to start. He took the blanket fully off his body as he went to stretch his limbs, "I thank you. If there is anything you ever need-"

"Actually, it's funny that you mention that," The man stated as he gave a wave of the hand, carelessly gesturing the Huntsman to settle down.

Thrown off by this, he did settle down as indicated. He was as still as could be and waited for his savior to continue. He was always caught off guard by the ways of the humans. But could this man even be considered human? The Huntsman had never seen one who looked like him and held all that magical power. This creature was not natural. And rather that scaring the young man, it intrigued him.

"I suppose that introductions are in order. My name is Rumpelstiltskin," The gray man said, giving an elaborate bow. As his skin hit the light of the fire, the Huntsman saw that the skin was more 'scaly than it was leather.

A head was cocked in an almost childlike wonder. There was a fear, though. A sliver of anxiousness and anticipation filled his stomach in an uncomfortable manner. Was there something to be scared of? This was the man who saved him after all.

The silence in the room lasted a few moments before the Huntsman realized that he was supposed to speak next. Freezing up, he stumbled over his words, trying to remember how humans went about these things, "You can call me 'Huntsman'. It's what most people call me."

The man identified as Rumpelstiltskin gave a raise of his eyebrow and appeared amused. "Oh? Pity you didn't give me a proper name…"

Before the Huntsman could question why he needed a name, Rumpelstiltskin went on with his talking. "Now that we have got the pleasantries out of the way, let us get down to business." He went into his jacket pocket and pulled out a rolled up scroll. With a simple shake, the scroll opened up to reveal a long set of words. A feather quill appeared out of nowhere in the Huntsman's hands, shocking the young man. "Just sign on the dotted line and we can move along." Rumpelstiltskin said, with an excited flair about him.

The Huntsman felt his stomach drop as the whole situation started to overwhelm him. Raised in the wilds, he was taught many things. To read was not one of those lessons. Next, you had the fact that Rumpelstiltskin did recognize that the Huntsman was in his debt. He supposed that it was proper. The creature did save his life and he deserved to be paid in full for such a favor. And the biggest thing that bothered him was this long piece of paper before him. It was drenched in words and letters. He did not know where to begin.

"Why do I have to sign this?" The Huntsman said, trying to cover up his apparent disability. "I don't need to sign something to pay a debt. You have my word that I'll-" He was stopped at one by a sudden dark finger wagging in his face.

"Nu, nu, nu," Rumpelstiltskin teased with a wide grin on his face. "Sign the contract that way you can pay me back. If you back out on your deal, you don't want to deal with the consequences. Now, sign on the line." His voice was practically like a song. How can someone be so flamboyant and outlandish? No pack would ever tolerate him, was the Huntsman's thought.

Realizing he was backed into a corner, the Huntsman slowly admitted, "I can't…I can't…I can't write…" He finally spat out, at once getting defensive over his defect. "You don't write your way into hunting dinner. You can't defend your pack by reading a piece of paper. It's-"

For the second time, he was interrupted by the wagging finger. "You believe that you're the only one in this world that can't?" Rumpelstiltskin asked, toning down his excitement. "It's nothing to be ashamed of." He exhaled before telling the Huntsman. "I usually deal with people who can read…So I cannot in good conscience have you sign my contract without telling you what it is." He smirked before he went to sit down next to the Huntsman, showing him the paper he called 'contract'

Rumpelstiltskin was surprisingly warm, the Huntsman noticed. Most scaly creatures had cold blood, but he could feel the heat from the man sitting next to him. It was intriguing, but he could not think of that now. He looked over the contract and felt dizzy by all the information he had to take in.

"Essentially, I saved your life. Therefore a service must be given. You are to come with me on my travels and obey each order and command. I feel that a year serving me is not too much to ask," Rumpelstiltskin told the Huntsman as he ran his fingers over the written word fondly. He turned over and explained, "The contract merely says that and you signing it would be the agreement that you will pay me back."

"Seems like there's an awful amount of words for what you just told me," The Huntsman said, his own fingers running down each word. There was a pause before he gave a shrug. "I suppose writing is more complicated than I thought…"

Rumpelstiltskin appeared pleased with something. With what, the Huntsman wasn't sure. He mulled over the request and he realized how long a year really was. That was a winter where he could not run in the snow. That was a spring he could not see the new families. That was a summer he could not spend in the river. That was an autumn he could not lie with his pack in golden leaves.

And to serve someone…Wolves held no master and neither would he. The forest was in no terms an equal land, but no one thought so highly of themselves that they took slaves of the inhabitants. That was a human creation.

"And if I say no?" The Huntsman questioned as he looked at the imp, his eyes glaring in his defiance.

"Then I let your wounds open back up and leave you to the black wolf so he may take his revenge," Rumpelstiltskin said as his hand went to the Huntsman's shoulder. His fingers glowed briefly and the Huntsman hissed in pain. He pushed the hand away and pulled down the sleeve of his shoulder. Alarmed, he saw that the wound had opened back up to reveal the large and terrible bite mark. Blood was oozing out of it once more, this time at a rapid pace.

"Don't make me go to the leg just to prove a point," Rumpelstiltskin smirked as he went to close back the wound on the shoulder. "So, do we have a deal?"

The Huntsman asked, seeing that he was in a bind, "What am I going to be doing for you?" At least he could know what to look forward to for the next four seasons.

"This and that," There it was again. That careless gesture as he waved his hand, it annoyed the Huntsman. Did he not realize what was at stake? As if he read the wounded man's mind, Rumpelstiltskin explained, "As you can see, there is much I can do with magic. However, using so much magic, especially in combat drains me. So you would see where a bodyguard became useful."

"So I would be a puppet for combat…" The Huntsman said slowly, hoping that 'puppet' was the right word for what he was trying to say. The last thing he wanted was to sound more ignorant than he already sounded. "That's all? And after a year, I will be free."

"After that year, you never have to see me again," Rumpelstiltskin said as he indicated the quill once more. "Can you sign your name?"

The Huntsman nodded, knowing barely how to do it. But he still knew. He put the quill to the dotted line indicated and gave his barely legible, chicken scratched signature. Nevertheless, it was a binding signature.

"Excellent…" And the paper rolled back up into the scroll and it was tucked safely awake in the jacket pocket. After signing the contract, the Huntsman made a realization.

"Can I say goodbye to my pack? My brother, at least? He needs to know what happened," The Huntsman pleaded as he watched Rumpelstiltskin get back up. A shrill giggle was his answer. It was a sound that made his heart stop and drop to the pit of his stomach.

Slumping back into the lying position, the Huntsman quivered as he tried to hold back his emotions. Wolves were stoic creatures, but they did express true sorrow. Their howls were constant. Whenever there was bad news such as a death or a separation, they would cry their sadness and sympathy. But in the human world, it was apparently taboo to reveal such inner thoughts. Only females did it, it appeared. And there was a question of manhood if you were to cry. And that humiliated the Huntsman terribly.

He was holding back his pain until he saw that Rumpelstiltskin had left the hut. He held his breath, wondering if the imp would come back. A few minutes past and the Huntsman saw that it was safe. Only one tear dripped down his cheek and only one sob escaped his lips. But it was enough for him to pool out all his fear and all his loss.