Chapter 3
"My road of good intentions led where such roads always lead."
Jon went tearing through the clearing, grabbed the matted fur of the bear and heaved it up. With a combination of magic and desperation, he flung the beast away and crouched down by the side of his pet.
"Hey, Gary," Jon said with quavering voice, petting the animal's head. Gareth whined softly and tried to lick his master's hand. "You stupid dog," Jon said, sniffling slightly as his hands stroked the blood covered silver fur. "What were you doing out here anyway?"
The dog just laid his head against Jon's leg and closed his eyes, contentedly.
"We have to get him home," Jon said, staring down at the animal. "If he stays out here any longer-"
Lizzie laid a hand on his shoulder. "Jon, he's not going to make it home."
"Of course he will, he's a strong dog! And he's only twelve."
"Jon, if we wait until then, he'll bleed to death from the inside. Just look at him."
"So what do you want me to do, Mother, leave him here to die?"
"No. We can either try and save him now or…" She trailed off, but Jonathan waited for her to continue. "Or you could give him the coup de grace here."
"No!" Jonathan shouted, his face stricken.
"Then I suggest we get to work now. How much do you know about dogs?"
They stared at one another. "Let's hope enough," was all Jon finally said. He got slowly to his feet, carefully laying Gareth's head on the ground as Lizzie stood above the dog and conjured up a silvery dome to keep the rain off them as they worked.
From behind a tree, a crying figure watched the two mages work. Her eyes were wide with curiosity and brimming with tears as the two figures fought to save the dog that had given his life for her. The bear had come after her first; Gareth had just seen it attack and gone to protect her.
"Please let it live," she whimpered softly, hugging herself and rocking back and forth in emotional anguish. "Don't let it die." And she stared with bated breath as the life of one lone animal hung in balance.
A good hour passed in utter silence before Jonathan finally sat back on his haunches. "Well?" he asked his mother worriedly, one hand resting lightly atop the dog's head.
She shrugged in reply. "I don't know, Jon. I just don't know." But her eyes spoke sad volumes.
"Is there anything else we can do?" he whispered softly, listening to the animal's labored breathing.
"Other than slit his throat, no." Jonathan just looked at her. "I'm sorry, Jon, but he'll be in agony when he wakes up. I don't think he'll ever be able to run again, I don't even know if he can walk."
"If this was me or Ant, you wouldn't be saying that!" Jonathan shouted, then stopped. "Don't answer that, it was idiotic."
"Not idiotic," Lizzie corrected gently. "You're just thinking with your heart instead of your head."
Jonathan looked at the dog—his faithful companion and friend of so many years. He didn't want to let go, but he couldn't bring himself to be so selfish as to torture Gareth. "I guess it's goodbye," he whispered, bending down and kissing the top of the dog's head one last time. Lizzie laid a steadying hand atop her son's shoulder as he drew his knife. The blade shook as he trembled, but Jon just clenched his hands tighter and forced the edge to remain steady.
With one careful yet quick stroke, it was all over. The blood pooled slowly on the ground as Jon rose to his feet, turning away from the deadly crimson that stained Gareth's silvery fur. Lizzie stayed there for a few brief moments, her hand resting on the dog's back as her eyes shone bright with tears that she knew wouldn't be shed. He had been a good dog and Lizzie wondered, for the first time since she was very little, if there was a heaven for dogs too.
Jonathan started walking towards the forest, not even paying attention to where his feet were carrying him. He was trying not to think about what he had just done, trying not to picture Gareth as a puppy, leaping all over him and licking his face. Jonathan blinked angrily, the first drop rolling slowly down his cheek. He kept walking, his eyes fixed straight ahead and he only noticed the obstacle in his path as he tripped over it and went sprawling headlong in the mud.
The maiden hiding in the trees winced in sympathy as Jonathan got up onto his knees and turned his face towards the sky. She wanted to go up to him and apologize, to beg his forgiveness for causing the dog's death, but she dared not. For one thing, she highly doubted she would be forgiven. This was obviously more than an animal, this was the death of a friend. So she stayed hidden and watched the play of emotions across the handsome face barely five feet in front of her.
"How could you?" Jonathan screamed at the silent night sky. "How dare you?" And then he buried his face in his hands and sobbed bitterly.
Lizzie knelt by her son's side and put her arms cautiously around him. She knew that her presence was, at the moment, inferior to what Gareth could have provided, but Jonathan needed a shoulder to sob on.
Jonathan turned to face said shoulder and let his mother hold him. She petted his dark, wet hair, letting him bawl. There would be time to be strong later; now he just needed to cry.
The young woman watched jealously, her hands clenched by her side. Where was her mother when she needed her the most? There was no one to hold her head when all she wanted to do was curl up and die, there was no one to stroke her hair and tell her everything would be all right. Why was she different? Why was she cursed? She gasped softly, tears that she thought had long since dried up began to trickle down her cheek, leaving new streaks in already stained flesh.
Jonathan's broken sobs were not particularly loud and the soft whimper from the trees did no pass completely unnoticed. Lizzie, who was not the one entirely senseless with grief, heard and looked up. The darkness did its job well, melting everything into the same murky shade, like someone had spilled ink all over her world.
"Sweetheart," Lizzie said gently, kissing her son's forehead. His arms loosened slightly and he looked up. "I hate to do this to you, but we shouldn't stay here. It's dangerous."
"I have magic," Jonathan hiccupped.
"No," Lizzie corrected, "You had magic. Neither of us could handle another bear right now. Should we take Gareth back to the castle?"
Jonathan took a few deep breaths, his chest heaving as he tried to regain control. "No," he answered finally, looking up into Lizzie's eyes. "He's not human yet. We should bury him here."
"As you wish." Lizzie got carefully to her feet, forcing Jonathan to follow. "We'll come back tomorrow, alright?"
"Can't we just do this now?" Jonathan whined plaintively.
"You don't want to say goodbye again," Lizzie said, shaking her head. "Unfortunately, Jon, we can't. But we can mark this place and come back tomorrow."
"What if something happens to him?" Jonathan began, before cutting himself off. "That's stupid, what else could possibly happen to him? His master's already slit his throat."
"Jon," Lizzie said warningly, "Just imagine what would have happened had you not. Would you have liked to sit vigil all night, watching as he died a slow and painful death. Or, let's look at the best case. Would you have preferred getting up to leave and watching Gareth struggle to follow you, unable to walk?"
"Stop it," Jon whispered and Lizzie did, her point having been made. "What would you feel in my place?"
"You're allowed to be sad," Lizzie said gently. "But don't blame yourself, you couldn't have prevented any of this."
Jonathan shut his eyes and turned away, not wanting to be comforted. He wanted to feel guilty, to hurt, to do something to get rid of that aching hole in his heart once occupied by a friendly, loving, sleek, perfect wolfhound named Gareth. He knelt by Gareth's body one last time and stroked the wet, muddy fur. "I'll miss you," he whispered before rising to his feet. "Could you mark the spot?" he asked Lizzie. "I…I don't think I can."
"Very well," Lizzie answered, figuring that now was neither the time nor place for a lecture on magical reserve. She started carefully walking a circle around the dog's fallen body, carefully concentrating on what she wanted done and letting it take on the aspect of a warding as well as a beacon for them to use later. It flared with a steady silver light and as Lizzie finished her third circumambulation of the shape, it rose up into a dome, shining opaque for a moment before descending back and leaving only a small shimmer to mark its existence.
"Thank you," Jonathan murmured.
"You're welcome. Let's go home." And so they set off, Jonathan walking dejectedly in front while Lizzie followed behind, her heart aching for her poor son and almost entirely obscuring the throbbing pain in her leg.
The girl watched them leave, her soft cries muffled after Lizzie had originally looked up. After waiting long enough to be sure that they wouldn't return again that night, she ran to the prone figure in the middle of the clearing. She had been afraid of the magical glow around the animal, but it seemed to do her no harm and she had to apologize.
"I'm sorry," she whispered, clutching at the fur and burying her face in it. "Christ, I'm so so sorry!" She was mad at the boy for not being able to save the dog, she was mad at Gareth for jumping in like that, but most of all she was terribly furious at herself for needing to be rescued.
"Look at me," she hissed, stroking the dead fur, "A waif dressed in rags that are barely decent, without a home or a single friend or anyone who cares about her. And the one creature that does, not even a human, a dog is killed almost immediately. Perhaps I should just kill myself and be done with it." This was not the first time suicide had crossed her mind, but it had never before seemed to so tempting. She wished that Jonathan had left his knife there for her to use, but that was a fruitless hope.
Her eyes roamed around, seeking something, anything that could be used by a desperate human. Her eye alighted on the bear.
Staggering to her feet, the young woman crossed to its corpse, and looked at the gaping jaw filled with razor sharp teeth. She knew she would never be able to get one of those out of the mouth and was prepared to give up when another idea struck her.
She looked at her wrists, once pale, slim and elegant, now dirty, cracked and possibly sprained. She knew, in theory, that to open the blood vessels in the wrists would eventually lead to death, but she had never seen it done. This wasn't the time for trivialities, however, so she rested her wrists against the sharpest of the canines and, using the bear's upper jaw, ripped into her skin.
The agony was like nothing she had ever felt before, shooting pain through her entire body and, for one moment, entirely erasing the anguish in her heart. She laughed desperately as she used the teeth to rip her skin to shreds.
Blood flowing in rivulets down her wrists, she made her way back to the dog, curling up against its soft shaggy fur. She head her head against its back, crying softly for everything she had done wrong and begging for forgiveness. As she slipped into blessed unconsciousness, the rain began to finally let up and a cool breeze danced through her hair. Midnight had come and gone and soon, the sun would rise.
It was almost moonset by the time Jonathan and Lizzie reached home. They had traveled silently, neither one speaking, neither one knowing what to say. They reached the gates of Gilld Hall and Jonathan stormed inside, draping his cloak on the wall and nearly bowling over his father.
"Jonathan Gilld, what have you been doing?" Joshua demanded, looking quite startled to see his eldest son walking in from the storm. Jonathan ignored him; stalking past his father and up the stairs toward his room. Joshua opened his mouth, ready to yell at his son, when a gentle hand on his shoulder stopped him.
"There you are," he said with relief, pushing the soaked hood off his wife's head and touching her cheek. "I was worried about you."
"Shocking," Lizzie muttered. "Let Jonathan alone, he's had a very bad night."
"How bad?" Joshua asked skeptically.
"Gareth was killed by a bear."
Joshua shut his eyes and sighed softly. "Poor Jon."
"Indeed." Lizzie replied. "We'll talk tomorrow morning, I'm utterly exhausted."
"I assume you'll tell me about the meeting then too?"
"Of course." Lizzie began to ascend the stairs, trying not to cringe every time she had to put her weight on her left leg.
"You're favoring your right leg," Joshua observed. Lizzie muttered something under her breath that was not complimentary. "You shouldn't have been out for so long or walked so far," Joshua continued, matching her pace up towards their room.
"Thank you for telling me, I never would have guessed on my own."
Joshua rolled his eyes and, with one careful movement, lifted her into his arms. Lizzie's yelp of surprise made him laugh as her carried her the rest of the way to their room,
"Evidently I'm not the only one who's not as young as I once was," Lizzie observed as Joshua put her down, breathing rather heavily.
"Shut up," he growled, just making her laugh.
"Good night," she sighed, curling up in his arms after they had both changed for bed. He smiled and kissed the nape of her neck.
"Good night, darling."
A/N – Err, well, um, this is awkward. I know, I know, I've slacked off for the past four months and all I have to show for it are four lousy pages. University is hard, especially when taking classes that meet for ridiculous hours and have obscene amounts of homework. On the plus side, I'm learning to draw and have done a lovely picture of a tall building being climbed by my teddy bear. I have also managed to acquire a boyfriend who, while not blond with green eyes, is named Joshua. :grins sheepishly:
Anyway, I'm quite aware that most of my lovely reviewers have given up on me, I'll try to get back on track and write more often. Anyway, you all deserve thanks if you're even reading this at the moment. However, this chapter is dedicated to heroine beauty, for guilting me into finishing this. Now for the thank yous –
Mistyqueen – Yes, but he had to die. It just couldn't work otherwise. Don't worry, all dogs go to heaven.
Stargate rules – I will continue, don't worry. It just may take a while if I'm not occasionally stalked.
FutureFamousMovieDirector – Again, all dogs go to heaven, except the loud yippy annoying ones. Or akitas named Evita. But anyway. As of now, I have two more stories planned after this. One for Abigail, one for Anthony. Unfortunately, I'm more sure of Ant's story than Gail's but that's what the Fairy Tale anthology sitting in my room is for. I have many ideas though.
TrudiRose – Thanks, I try to make magic logical; it's a habit I've never been able to break and undoubtedly comes from how much I hate unexplained rituals and "it just happens like this, deal!" aspects of certain books. And Lizzie is very fun to write as well. Missing princess plot will all come clear soon, though I don't blame her for running.
Shortstef – I never doubted you for an instant! Although speaking of regrettable actions, perhaps I should be the one groveling. Yes, I do have a habit hand that comes out quite clearly in my stories so you are undoubtedly right. Glad to keep providing you with men, though you do realize that Joshua is also married and this is a fairy tale, Jonathan may well be at the end too. And since I have this lovely habit of disobeying my readers, the poor dog is gone.
Soofija – I wasn't worried, I have faith in you. I cant promise this story will focus entirely on a guy, I will have to tell the princess's story as well. But Jon will be the prime mover, I hope. If you can put up with all the angst until the end, then yes, there will be a fluffy ending. I am, if you haven't noticed, rather fluff addicted. (Not marshmallow fluff, though I do like that too)
Heroinebeauty – Welcome to the madhouse, I hope you find it to your liking. Thanks for reading and I'm so glad you liked both this and Little Merman.
So, this chapter was brought to you by my teddy bear shnu, my stuffed golden retriever Javan and by reviewers like you.
Levana (Damian)
