A/N: WWOOOAAAHHH It's been forever and a day since I updated this? Sorry for the wait! I'm not even going to try and promise to update more often because hahahaha that's probably a lie.
I will try not to take four months again, though. Or at least, if I do, throw in a few more one-shots. Suggestions are welcome and appreciated, as are all of your wonderful reviews! / v\
Chapter 4: The Apple Tree
Marth wasn't entirely sure what he had been expecting when Ike had told him that communication would be more frequent; perhaps it'd somehow translated to 'common' or 'regular.' Or maybe just frequent in general. Whatever he was waiting or hoping for, it most certainly wasn't the complete lack of contact he received in the few days to come; days that spilled to weeks, and weeks that left him wondering just how stable this bridge's foundations were.
Perhaps the absence of the presence in the trees was because he was actively seeking it. Before, it had been more of him just happening to be there, but now it was something that he wished for – and therefore, didn't get. Because evidently, that was just the way it worked with him, wasn't it? As soon as he'd grown used to the wolf prowling around him, he'd become strangely absent; as soon as he was waiting for him, he'd disappeared altogether. There was a part of him worrying that he was now a fluffier version of the Hanged Man right now, somewhere in the depths of that section of the forest he called home, but another part argued that he seemed to have more sense than that. Their bickering was endless.
Ike obviously knows what he's doing. He's probably been avoiding those traps his whole life!
But he was strung up once, wasn't he?
A fluke! An unlucky chance! It'll never happen again!
But how did it happen the first time?
Haven't we been over this?
But that clearing wasn't too far from the path. In fact, if you were trying to find somewhere to catch a peek of it, you would probably wander there.
So then, is it possible…
… he was strung up…
… because he was looking for me?
He was looking too far into the issue, and he knew he was, but there was no way he could escape it. The trap had inevitably been found; outrage and fear had been rather prompt responses. Some feared that the wolves were learning how to best their trusty traps, the traps that had always suited them, while others believed that it was just a particularly lucky wolf that had gotten away. He'd probably been strung up somewhere else. It was nothing to worry about. Not a single one of them suspected that it might've been outside help that saved that wolf, and why should they? Who had any good reason to?
Nowadays, Marth found himself wondering what qualified as a good reason anymore. If old stories and folktales were good reasons, then he supposed he had just as good of a reason to help a wolf. That probably qualified as good luck according to some really old legend. Everything under the sun was probably a sign of good luck, if he dug deep enough.
Regardless, he'd also begun to wonder whether his own commitment was enough. If anyone in the town found out, then his father would find out. If his father found out, then he would probably be hoisted up into the nearest trap and left for good. Him or Ike. Whichever one he could get his hands on first. Was that really worth it? The prospect and thrill of some forbidden friendship; the chance to learn more about this 'savage' race of creatures that were practically their next-door neighbors... was it worth the possibility of throwing away everyone's trust? His own life? His new friend's? What would it really be for?
Was it possible that Ike, too, had asked these questions and was now deciding on his ultimate answer?
Marth received his own answer to this chapter of his many musings just around the descent of summer, where the heat slowly began to recede into a lazy kind of haze and the trees changed from carpets of green to vivid gold and red. Sometimes, the occasional breeze would bring the hint of chills to come, but overall it was rather pleasant. Not cold enough for him to exchange his red cloak for one of thicker material – which was good, because otherwise, he wasn't sure that Ike would be able to spot him.
But Marth was wearing it. And so, he did.
He was just returning from Elice's house, his basket full of a few weavings and cloths that she'd made while bedridden. The sun was high in the sky, and he was walking at a rather slow pace to enjoy the beautiful day. After all, he was in absolutely no rush, with nothing waiting for him back home and no reason for him to hurry there. Maybe he'd listen to his father rattle off some of his detailed, graphic hunts. Wouldn't that be worthwhile – just like each of the other seventy-nine times he'd heard them.
Unfortunately, when he caught a glimpse of a shape moving just beyond the first layer of trees, it drove all thoughts of old grisly tales out of his mind. Now he would never hear how that third wolf was actually twice as large as his father originally thought! But instead of worrying about that, he paused to check the path up and down – three times in quick succession, so as to not doom himself due to cursory glances – before plunging into the undergrowth, fallen leaves crunching under his boots. Sneaking around at this time of year was virtually impossible; how Ike managed to restrict Marth's detection of him to sight alone was baffling. But then again, he probably required plenty of practice.
The boy caught on rather quickly that Ike wasn't intending for them to meet just next to the path; he'd flitted out of Marth's sight as soon as he was sure he was being followed. Marth caught the barest glimpse of him occasionally, through gaps, and he was always just a little bit ahead, just far enough for the other to keep him in his sights. Whenever Ike felt he was lagging too far behind, he'd wait for him to catch up before continuing on this apparent game of cat and mouse – although it really seemed as though it would be the other way around.
After following what seemed to be a completely random, winding path through steadily darkening woodland, Marth emerged in what seemed to be a rather open clearing. And by open, he meant it; sunlight shined through invitingly, bathing the trees around its edge in a kind of golden glow. Perhaps it was because of his trained eye, but he was immediately drawn to the one in the middle – no. Just to the right of the middle, almost tucked away between two other trees, was what seemed to be an apple tree. Whatever fruits were left on its branches didn't look incredibly appetizing; they all appeared a bit shriveled, overripe, and rather sad as they hung above their fallen, rotting brethren. Not too many were left on the ground, though, since that was far too easy a food source for various forest life. Not all of which he wished to be acquainted with.
But as his eyes wandered up the trunks, he rather distinctly saw the gleaming, almost amused eyes of a creature he was already familiar with – and gladly, too.
"You know, I was beginning to think that you'd changed your mind," he called up to the wolf, crossing his arms and resting his basket in the crook of one of his elbows as he stepped forward, careful to avoid any fallen apples.
Despite the shade of the tree, he could still make out an eyebrow rising slowly. "Did you? I just figured that our friendship would end a little prematurely if I ended up dead. After all, with my little disappearing act, all of the other townsfolk were more likely to check their traps more. And possibly set more, just as a precaution, and then check the path a little more, and do all sorts of certain little things that add together to a big risk. This isn't my first hunting season, and isn't my first experience with someone breaking free. Your type is awfully predictable."
He had a point, Marth supposed. And a rather logical one, so he simply nodded in a 'fair enough' kind of manner. After the briefest of moments, however, a teasing smile crossed his lips.
"But I thought climbing trees was for cats?" he called him to him, raising an eyebrow.
Once again, that eyebrow slowly crept upwards, joining the other one raised on the bluenette's face. Marth thought he looked rather at home, so it seemed like a reasonable comment. His back was resting against the trunk of the tree, one leg stretched out in front of him and the other hanging down lazily below, swinging a little bit as he rested. He had to wonder how many times Ike might have come here, to sit there, but was broken from these musings as the wolf responded.
"Are you trying to imply that I would be a better cat than wolf?"
"Maybe. Are all of your other habits as feline as this one? You've got the showing up at the most unexpected times one, the one about moving with absolutely no noise… hmmm…" Marth tapped his chin a few times, looking to be deeply in thought. "Do you meow? How about purr?"
For the first time, he heard a soft, easy chuckle filter down from him, and it was surprisingly gentle. He wasn't sure what else he might have been expecting; it fit the wolf rather well, far more than the barklike laugh he was somehow picturing. "No, I happen to lack both of those. And despite all similarities, I promise you that I'm a wolf and not a very talented housecat," he replied, his tail swishing underneath him, just as lazy as his leg.
Marth laughed lightly, his eyes wandering over the gnarled bark before he unfolded his arms and sat his basket down by the trunk of the tree. His hands found plenty of holds rather naturally, as did his feet; he used to climb up trees rather often, as a kid, after all. He still did on occasion, and it wasn't simply something that you forgot. He hoisted himself into a branch on the opposite side of the trunk, one that was in clear view of the other, but still a bit distanced. The other seemed almost… impressed by this display, but only for a fraction of a second, and only mildly. After that, he seemed just as impassive as ever.
"Well, I suppose that's a good thing," he replied airily, waving a hand as if batting the ridiculous notion away. "I mean, Big Bad Kitty Cat isn't quite as terrifying as Big Bad Wolf."
"I dunno, I mean, cats can be pretty terrifying. Plus, then I can win the little kids over onto my side, maybe. Kitty Cat sounds a lot friendlier than Wolf, no matter how you look at it," Ike pointed out, tapping his chin with one clawed finger, as if he were seriously considering it.
"Big Bad Kitty Cat does kind of make you sound like the big attraction of the local cat lady," Marth mused thoughtfully, and the barest of smiles touched Ike's lips again.
"Oh, yes, I'm just certain that she'd love me. Maybe if I just meow and purr – and maybe pick up some of your other excellent feline trivia – then I'll be completely prepared to infiltrate your number. 'No, I'm a cat, not a wolf, see? So you have no right to hate me.' Great. Maybe I'll try that out sometime soon," he went on, one of his ears flicking as he lowered his hand to rest in his lap again.
"Next thing I know, you're suddenly run out of town for killing some other cat that I never remember seeing. Or hearing about. Or… well, you get the point, I think."
"Right, right… Or I'm singlehandedly responsible for the sudden outbreak of allergic reactions to cats. Also a deciding factor. You know, the regular symptoms… Pale, shakiness, bug-eyes, panicked screams about something ridiculous about a wolf… when I'm clearly a cat, you know. Very inconsiderate of them…" Ike sighed melodramatically, shaking his head a little, and Marth laughed lightly in response.
"Isn't it just? Maybe if we convince them that you were all cats this whole time, they'll warm up to you."
"Now there's an idea," the wolf agreed, but didn't add anything else, pulling the two of them into an odd sort of silence. The silence itself didn't feel odd, or anything - in fact, what made it odd was how comfortable it was. Typically, when he ran out of things to add to a conversation, he and the other person stood there stiffly, both grasping for ideas and comments that didn't exist until one excused themselves. This, on the other hand, was as natural as talking had been, if not more so. Regardless, he couldn't shake the feeling that the other was expecting him to say something more, so he turned to look at him once again.
"Do you come to this place often?" he said after a slight pause, and then frowned a little. "And no, that's not an attempt at a pickup line, since you were the one who showed me here anyways."
He saw one of the blue ears flick lightly, and despite the fact the other had turned his head away from him to look straight ahead, he could already imagine the small, amused smile on his face. "How disappointing. But yeah, I do," he replied softly, folding his hands over his stomach. "It's pretty out of the way, so there aren't any traps out here-" Marth heard the soft but distinct sound of three knocks on the branch below the wolf "-and no one ever comes snooping around. I don't see why they would... but there might only be one or two other people who even know this place exists." He shrugged a little bit at this, his hands folding again.
Honestly, Marth felt a little touched by this. Only a few people knew about it, and yet... "You brought me here, though?"
Ike paused for a moment or two before looking back at the other bluenette, raising an eyebrow slowly. "It's the most private, and therefore the most safe, place I know of," he replied simply, blinking. "I don't know where else I would've brought you, so..."
The cloaked boy blinked a little bit at this, flushing lightly and glancing away. Right. Duh. He wasn't sure why he was expecting anything otherwise; Ike was incredibly cautious, and rather practical about this whole matter. Of course that was the reason why he'd shown Marth this place.
Really, he was probably blowing all of this out of proportion. This was just as though he were friends with another boy in the village, really. They were crossing a ridiculous social boundary, but that didn't make their relationship any more special, did it? Just sort of odd.
But why was he so disappointed, all the same?
"I see," he replied softly, looking around the clearing again as he attempted to save face. It wasn't that large, but compared to the rest of the forest, it was as opposite as it could be. Warm, open, and inviting. "You'd think that more people would find it, since its so open..."
"It's surrounded by pretty thick undergrowth in most sides," Ike replied from the other side of the tree, and the soft shifting that he heard made Marth think that he'd pushed off from the trunk. "So it's probably more trouble than it's worth to investigate."
The boy nodded a little bit at this, tilting his head slightly. "I can't tell if it's a shame or a good thing that it's so private. It seems like it would be even prettier in the summer, or the spring," he commented, glancing back over to the wolf again, who nodded.
"Well, during the summer, these apples are a bit tastier than they are at this time of year," he added softly, looking up at one in front of him and frowning a little bit. "My sister comes with me to pick some of them, every once in a while, to make a pie or something. And there are plenty of flowers during the spring, those are rather pretty."
Marth blinked a little as Ike spoke, his eyebrows drawing together in curiosity and slight confusion. "Wait, back up - pie? You eat pie?"
Ike paused for a few moments before slowly looking at him and examining him for a few seconds; Marth wasn't entirely sure he liked that look. "Of course. What sort of monster doesn't eat pie?" he replied simply, and though it was rather light and a bit joking, Marth wasn't an idiot. He could feel the weight behind the statement.
So he simply smiled and replied, "I suppose that's true. It sounds lovely, though." Even as he spoke, his mind whirled a little bit. There were parts of him still expecting the stereotype, that he was associating with some sort of primitive barbarian that didn't even know what pie was, much less know how to make it. Of course, this was ridiculous - he should have realized since the beginning that this was ridiculous. They were clearly civilized, he knew that much. They were properly clothed, for Pete's sake! Or, at least, Ike was... and it was different, as well. The clothes, at least. This time, it was a darker blue tunic-like shirt, but the same rough, dirty pair of pants. His eyes lingered on the sleeve facing him - the left - as he wildly wondered whether the right one was torn, but as he glanced up, his eyes met the slightly darker pair of the other's and he realized he was just staring at him outright.
There was a long, drawn out moment of silence as they both examined each other before Ike looked away again, looking up towards the sky quietly. "... Is there any time you need to get back?" he said after a few more moments, swinging his legs lightly. The movement that Marth had heard before was him turning to face the rest of the clearing. "Before people start to wonder...?"
Marth blinked a little at this before glancing up at the positioning of the sun as well and shaking his head. "Not necessarily. I can just say that I was at Elise's house later because she needed some help. Elise is my sister," he explained, neglecting to mention her condition. He saw Ike's ear flick lightly, perhaps in thought, but the wolf did nothing but nod.
Ike paused for a few moments longer, his gaze not moving from the sky before he offered softly, "Maybe I could show you around this side, sometime, then. There aren't many wanderers around this time of the year, so..."
Marth blinked in confusion at this, his eyebrows drawing together again. "... 'This side'?" he inquired, looking over to the wolf curiously. "You mean, this side of the path?" Why not the other side? Surely Ike had been there? Inwardly, he racked his memory before realizing that he'd never been onto the right side. He'd only ever seen Ike on the right - or left, if he was coming from Elise's - and had only ever wandered in there. So then, what was-?
"Yes," Ike replied, cutting his thoughts off as he looked back at him. "The forest is split into four parts. This is the north end, where wolves and thieves are. Your town is to the west, where humans have always lived in this area; your sister's place is, I'm assuming, to the east. I've never been beyond the lake out there, and I haven't heard many stories about it, so I haven't the slightest clue what could be out there. No one knows what's in the south," he said softly, looking back out in that direction. "Plenty of stories about it, sure. Witches and elves and fairies. But those are all fairy tales... literally." He paused for a moment, and then his eyebrows drew together as he thought. "Wait. At least, I think those are the directions... are they?" He glanced upwards with a frown, but the sun was hidden by the trees on the horizon, so he simply sighed. "Well, it's something like that, and you know what I'm talking about. Never was good with directions, but it doesn't matter." He shrugged again, his legs swinging idly once more.
Marth blinked slowly at this, gazing out through the trees that Ike had designated. Witches, elves, and fairies...? Even if those weren't the directions, it hardly mattered; that would be just another thing to occupy his thoughts that were always busy with one thing or another, anyways. "What kind of stories are there?" he asked suddenly, looking back at Ike. He'd heard fairy tales, but none about the woods. Well, unless you counted the ones with wolves, but those were hardly happy stories.
Ike looked over at him and blinked slowly before tilting his head a little, seemingly considering. Just as Marth thought he'd leave that topic for another night, he looked away again and launched into explaining a few of them, which ranged from one resembling Hansel and Gretel, stories of great colonies of elves that lived inside of the trees, of fairies that guided lost travelers either to their destination or into the heart of danger... and then one that Marth found far more interesting than the others.
"I think this one's the oldest," the wolf said, leaning against the trunk of the tree again and crossing his arms over his chest. "Which makes sense... Not many people tell this one anymore; they don't like it so much. Which also makes sense, because it's a story about where wolves supposedly came from... and it involves humans in ways they don't really agree with.
"They said that once, a long time ago, there were two human villages in this forest. One was in tune with the forest completely, knowing every nook and cranny and getting along with all the other creatures, and was located in the north; the other was destructive and was always trying to overtake the forest, believing themselves to have the right to it, and was in the west. Because of this, neither of them liked each other very much; it was fair enough to say that they were at war with one another.
"Every day, the western village would try and tear down as much of the forest as they could to expand, and every night, the northern village would regrow it so that the forest wouldn't die. The westerns would try and pick random areas throughout the forest to try and catch the northerns off guard. There were battles between the two villages, between the attacks against the forest; the westerns would use weapons they made themselves, such as swords and knives, and the northerns would use the creatures of the forest, in turn. Beasts and magic, the trees themselves, that sort of thing. On and on it went, for generations and generations.
"There was one day when a fierce battle broke out in the middle of the southern portion of the woods. Men and beast, flesh and steel, as always. But unlike every other time, this was the home of a powerful and dangerous witch - one that didn't much appreciate her home being destroyed. With a few spells flung away here and there, she brought an end to the fighting and inflicted her judgment. She cursed the westerns, telling them that if they were to ever attempt to take what wasn't theirs again, that they would suffer horribly, presumably by losing everything that they had. She then cursed the northerns in turn, turning them half into the beasts that they fought with and half into the humans they once were. 'If you are to act like beasts, then you will become beasts,' she said.
"Other versions of the story say that she turns them into the wolves so that they can be guardians of the forest," he added, interrupting himself, "but I find that like less likely.
"Anyways, she then turned both factions back to their homes, where one lived as the humans and one lived as the wolves. It's said that the wolves hated the humans for being able to retain their humanity and generally escape from the conflict unscathed, despite it being their fault - the humans, in turn, fear the wolves because of their resemblance to the dangers of the forest, and have therefore left the forest mostly alone. There are plenty of variations, I'm sure, but from what I've heard that's the most balanced..."
Marth let Ike lead him back onto the path soon after this, when the sun began to set, but even as he was walking back, his mind was back in the clearing with the apple tree. The idea that wolves were once humans might have made sense, except for the fact that it was just a fairy tale. Of course it was. There was no way that it could happen, but that meant that they were more the same than any one of them expected.
Just before he slipped back through the village gates, however, he felt something pressed into his hand - and realized that he almost forgot his basket. He glanced up at the wolf that was so dangerously close to the people that could harm him so badly, and met his rather intense gaze evenly until the other man softened and slipped away, as silent as ever.
If he was so careful, then why would he have...?
Then again, he'd been acting rather reckless since the beginning, hadn't he?
