Unfortunately, this is a bit of a filler chapter. I'm still sorting out the transformation in the next chapter, and I think we will be done after two more, total! Thank you for reading. -Bon
It was the second dawn since the gypsy camp had been left behind, in favor of making haste to the Cairngorms, mountains in northern Scotland. The craggy slopes were riddled with caverns and deep crevices, and steadily dropping temperatures ensured a lack of recreational hunting and sport for several days. The region should be uninhabited, should anything go awry. Indeed, a light snow had already begun to fall as Gwen and Lawrence maneuvered their mounts along a steep, barely-there path, forcing them to increase their pace if they were ever to reach the cave described to them by Mileva. It had been used by the gypsies as a supply cache, until the unseasonably chilly autumn had forced them to leave it until spring at least. To supplement what they would find there, the gypsies had graciously traded their worn horses for sturdier mounts and replenished their food and water; a gift from their own blacksmith had appeared as well, the set of high-quality cuffs that were originally meant for restraining the bear.
The steel shackles were cold to the touch, thick, and unrelenting. They were of the durability the gravity of the situation, and the beast's strength, called for, and Gwen could not complain of the quality, though she saw the shaped metal as a grim reminder of the curse they fought. Binding, deadly, their necessity proof of the risks she took by participating in this rite.
All of the gifts were a pleasant surprise; as clearly terrified of Lawrence as many were, Mileva's people still offered what help and support they could. It broke Gwen's heart, seeing these people, so despised by the privileged society she had been raised immersed in, proving the most understanding. They not only believed in the curse, they were willing to house and aid Lawrence. That was more than she could say of anyone in London, and probably the rest of England. She would be indebted forever to the Roma.
The horses' hooves clacking against rocks on the path was the only noise to be heard, and Gwen had had enough. Gnawing on her chapped lips, she tried to think of a conversational topic that wouldn't upset Lawrence, and would pull him from the morose daze he would not be stirred from. His horse had been apparently sensing…something about him, and had to be reined in often; the small bursts of protest, accompanied by shrill neighs, were occurring more and more, hindering their progress. Gwen could not blame the beast; for what lay dormant inside Lawrence could rip it to shreds in an instant.
They were reminded of that fact each evening, when the moon rose, progressively more and more circular in each night's inky sky.
Suppressing a shudder at that thought, Gwen spurred her horse up alongside Lawrence's, reaching out a hand to his slumped shoulders, attempting to offer some small bit of comfort. "Lawrence? Are you alright? Right now, I mean…" She fell silent at the ridiculous question, frowning as she rubbed his shoulder.
He leaned into her touch, sighing quietly. "It weighs on me…when the moon is close to full," he explained quietly. "It feels like a weight in my chest, and as if I could lose control at any moment. You saw my strength even several days ago. The wolf shows itself when it pleases, even outside the boundaries of the moon's cycle. It worries me, having you alone up in these isolated mountains, with this thing…inside me."
"But I am with you, Lawrence, and that's all that matters. Don't worry, it will be gone soon." Gwen's tone was strong and assuring, and her hand slid from his shoulder to grasp Lawrence's hand tightly. "Just trust me."
"I do nothing, if not that." His mouth quirked up in a half-smile, and they returned their eyes to the dubious trail before them.
Night had fallen, and thankfully, the pair had made it to the cave just before the sun had set completely. Lawrence had been amused to watch Gwen unsaddle her own horse; he was constantly astounded and simultaneously full of pride at how self-sufficient she could prove. He had no doubt she would be able to move on if he could not be saved…Shaking the morbid thoughts from his head, he finished tending to both horses, leaving them safely tethered under an overhanging ledge of rock outside the cave itself; he didn't think they would rest easily in an enclosed space with him, and perhaps they had a chance to escape if…
He was doing it again. It was doing it again. Sinking its teeth into his mind, burrowing into his consciousness, deeper with every passing minute that the moon grew rounder. He would never look at the lunar monstrosity again, when this was all over, if he could manage.
He found Gwen at a point deep within the cave, already starting a fire, or attempting to. With a small grin he took the flint from her hands, starting it easily. She shrugged, throwing her hands up good-naturedly and muttering about some tasks being beyond her capabilities. As she moved towards the front of the cave where most of the supplies were being kept, calling out something about attending to her appearance, Lawrence sorted through the heavily-packaged supplies that comprised the gypsy cache. It was the usual, grain, rope, things that would not spoil or be harmed too badly by the environment they were being stored in.
After a time he returned to the fire, and still, Gwen had not returned. Growing worried that she may catch a chill, for the temperature was dropping rapidly, even in this shelter, he sought her out, finding her on her knees in front of one of their packs, staring at the manacles peeping out from the burlap material. When he grasped her hands, meaning to pull her up, a quiet sob escaped her lips, and one of her hands broke free to scrape through her hair, upsetting the bun it was held in.
"I…I don't want to chain you like an animal, Lawrence," she managed. "You don't deserve this and you never did and I just don't understand why you." She began to sob in earnest, and he only sighed quietly, finally succeeding in pulling her to her feet, and into his arms. Cupping the back of her head as she clung to his shirt, Lawrence shushed her, his other hand running up and down her spine, pressing her body as close to his as he could while her sobs quieted. In but a few short moments, she was composed again; Gwen Conliffe was never one prone to feminine hysterics, and he could hardly judge one small panic in the midst of the disaster that was currently his existence.
Mumbling an apology, she stepped away from him, sniffling and patting her hair, reaching for the bag containing the chains and pulling them out, one by one. "It'll be sufficient, I'm sure."
Lawrence nodded, reaching for the pile of metal bindings and bringing it into the depths of the cave, where a rock wall signaled the end. Gwen unpacked some of their rations, some dried fruit and meat, and a flagon of water, settling in to wait while Lawrence took hammer and nail to the rear chamber, setting the base for his own restraints. The gypsies had given them solid tent stakes, and he anchored each chain with several. He was taking no chances if Gwen was going to be mere feet away from the monster, even if he had maintained a semblance of control during the last transformation. They had also made plans to chain him at midday the following day, giving them a wide margin before the autumn moon would begin rising.
It was late into the night when he finally finished, though he didn't believe he would rest much at all. His anxiety was palpable at the situation, his fear for Gwen coloring every sense at this point.
He returned to the fireside at last, spotting Gwen already sleeping in what looked to be a cramped sitting position. Frowning, Lawrence made sure to grab every blanket, fashion the most comfortable setup he could manage, and gently pull the sleeping Gwen onto it, without disturbing her rest. Cushioning her head with his arm, he curled around hers, fitting to her small form with ease. Her steady breathing soothed him immeasurably, and despite the mental turbulence that had been plaguing him for weeks, he fell asleep easily, an arm curved possessively over her waist.
Next chapter should be relatively soon...I think... ~Bon