A Stronghold and the Moon, a sky high fanfic

Celebwen Telcontar: I dedicate this story to Lita Lightning, with whom the idea would have never germinated, and thus the story would never have been born. Thanks!

Balrog: Huh? Repeat that, please, in English?

Celebwen Telcontar: But I am speaking English. Neither Sky High nor any of its characters belong to me. I'm just playing with them, and I'll be sure to give them back in perfect condition.

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Will Stronghold descended from the sky in a rage furious enough to make his friend Warren Peace's temper tantrums look like mild annoyances on the Pyro's side of the deal. His daughter had been attacked by something here in the woods surrounding the small town of Granby, Colorado. A snarl drew his attention from the ground to the area in front of him.

It was a beast, larger than most dogs save perhaps the Irish Wolfhound, it had a very lupine face, and eyes that glinted a deep gold flecked with a greenish yellow that implied madness or unpredictability. It looked like a wolf, save that the fur color was all wrong. It was a deep pale brown, almost like tanned calfskin. The guard hairs were a bristling black, like spikes of obsidian coming from off of the fell creature's pelt. And the mouth was open, blood covering the first few rows of teeth. Will snapped.

"Raaaaugh!" he screamed, flying at the monstrous wolf. It reared up and howled; an unearthly sound that could never come from the throat of any true beast. As Will grappled for the creature's pelt, he felt the guard hairs prick his hands, and he rolled under it, pinning it to his chest, its paws up. Nervously he looked skyward. A full moon sailed overhead, and Will cursed. Nothing he could do would incapasitate this monster. He grabbed a tree branch that only he could lift, wrestling the beast over and over until he could club it over the head. It only snarled and twisted in his arms, reaching up from where he had it pinned so it was now going for his throat. A werewolf. This was just perfect. It sank its teeth into the branch that Will brought up just in time, and growled in vexation, flinging the branch away with a wild jerk of its head. It then turned back to Will, growling deeply in its throat. Will stood, and kicked off, jerking the forelegs out of their sockets in the beast's shoulders. The werewolf howled in anguish, and again went for his throat. He sailed far past the woods and to the general store, hoping someone would have a silver bullet. Instead, he came across nothing, noting to the late hour. Three in the morning was never a good time to go and try to find a silver bullet and a gun that could successfully shoot it in a small town!

Eventually, he decided to try the most logical way to kill the lycanthrope would be to decapitate it. He gripped the struggling werewolf's spine and the base of its skull, and with superhuman strength, he ripped the head from the shoulders of the monster and flung it across the town, the body going in the other direction. Hopefully, that had worked with killing the beast.

With a cry of hope, Will leapt skyward, going back into the woods. He still needed to find his daughter.

"Marie?" he called as loudly as he could.

"Unhhh?" a woman answered in a painful groan. He raced over to where she was, and found Marie, in a bloody mess. She was straining, her pregnant body ready to let the baby into the world.

"Marie, sweetheart, were you attacked by the werewolf?" he asked.

"Uh-huh. Daddy, help me!"

"Alright, dearest. Let's go." He gripped her, making sure not to hurt her in any way, and flew as fast as he could to the Granby hospital, where Marie gave birth to her daughter, and died in the process.

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"Beth, I'll name you Beth," Will Stronghold told his tiny granddaughter. She was all that he had left, his only legacy. His wife, Tiffany, had died in childbirth. His parents had died at the hands of Baron Battle, who was killed by being strangled with one of Leila's vines and burned to death by Warren's fire. Now all he had left was little Beth, whom he would raise as he had raised Marie, with love and care. He gently made sure she was safe and warm before getting on the plane as Will Stronghold, not as his superhero self, and sat in his seat on the 747 to Maxville. Over the intercom, he heard the pilot garble something, yet didn't understand what he had said, as Will was thoroughly focused on little Beth.

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One month later, on the eve of the full moon, Will Stronghold was nervously pacing the area before his granddaughter's room, hoping against hope that the truth would not be seen.

"Grrraughhhhhh!" Beth screamed; an anguished howl between a baby's scream and a wolf cub's first attempt at a snarl. Will collapsed against the door, beginning to weep. His granddaughter, his only legacy in the world, was a lycanthrope. A werewolf. He decided then and there to create a wolf-proof cage for her to use every month. Hopefully, nothing else would come between him and raising Beth with all his heart save this tragic complication into her young life.

"Tiffany, oh, Tiffany, what am I going to do?" he asked his long-dead wife. As usual, he received no answer. His shoulders heaved with sobs, and he heard Beth launch herself at the door, apparently attempting to get out. The door shuddered violently, and Will cursed the incredible strength of the werewolf cub. He pressed himself even closer to the closed mahogany door, hoping against hope that mahogany was one of the stronger woods.

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Celebwen Telcontar: How was that? I introduced Beth, and got her lycanthrope in place as well!

Balrog: Poor Beth! A werewolf! Is she going to be taught by a Marauder?

Celebwen Telcontar: (Stares strangely at Balrog.) No, this is a Sky High fic, remember? It is not a Harry Potter fic. Remus Lupin will have no part in this fic at all.

Balrog: Oh. I see. Well, I hope the next chapter gets up soon!

Celebwen Telcontar: It will. And thank you for your review, Lita Lightning!