A/N:sooo the other day, me and my friend Mythika were talking about OUAT again, because we love it so friggin' much. And I went "Oi, oi, imagine Graham were still alive, and like, no curse and stuff, and then he meets Ruby/Red" and she just went "You realise now you have to write a fanfiction about that, don't you?"
So here goes nothing. My attempt at an OUAT ff oneshot about Graham/The Huntsman and Ruby/Red :'D It's set in an alternative universe really, where Snowwhite and Prince Charming have Emma and live with her a normal life (like how she deserves it), and erm, if you haven't started season 3...slight spoiler maybe in here?
By the way, I gave Graham's wolf the name "Red Eye." Yeah...because I'm original...you can tell can't you? By the title :'DDD
So without further ado, I present to you my story, enjoy!
Dedicated to "Mythika"
The moon simmered like a luminescent flame, as if the shady, glowing light it radiated off was a conjuring of dark and mysterious magic.
Through the thicket and trees it cast it's secretive light, covering the uneven, rough grounds in a sheet of soft, chalky white mixed with something akin to pale blue and amber.
The trees stood like tall soldiers, dark and mysterious, blocking anyone's sight, throwing off even more suspicious shadows which crawled and clawed to the various edges and ditches that made up what was the enchanted forest by night-time.
For any normal human, the forest would be a taboo place to linger at such an unholy hour. Too much darkness had it ensnared, trapped it with wickedness, kept it away from logic.
For any normal human, shivers would pace down their flimsy spines once they stepped foot into it. Once they travelled past trees and into high grass planes, stumbling over every tiny little rock which the forest placed in the way.
For any normal human, this forest was an adventure, an ordeal, a task to accomplish on a brave day, or one where too much liquor was involved to think straight.
Yet Graham was no normal human; if he was human at all. His days were spent amongst his pack brothers; the wolves. Loyal, proud animals with senses sharper than any other's, and an instinct so accurate.
Since birth had they taught him their language, their ways, traditions, their hunting-style. And he admired them, how they glowed in the moonlight as if they were unearthly. The way they stealthily trudged through the muddied lands, eyes sharper than an eagles, ears perked for any sort of minuscule noise.
Godly, that is what they were in Graham's eyes. Godly creatures sent to roam the lands and remind it of it's transcending beauty. They had showed him the elegance in the beasts of nature, thus leading Graham to lament over every hunt he ever made, praying over the carcasses to wish the souls farewell and hope they traversed to better lands.
He paid his utmost respects, cherished every living being and sought balance in all of his doings. The edge of his arrows always stayed sharp, his dagger sunk accurately. His heart beat truthfully.
But whilst he appreciated the gifts these higher beings sent down to them, others treaded on their pride with filthy feet, misusing the children of the forest for their own, selfish reasons and viewing them as the lowest of beings.
Graham's blood boiled ferociously each time he thought about their grimy faces, those scrunched expressions which mocked his very being, his traditions, his religion.
The religion of the Wolf. Or of nature in general, whatever terminology you preferred.
For what Graham did, and practised, and lived to be needed no words for description. It only needed actions.
A wolf, after all, did not waste his time talking.
"Have you heard!?" The voices of gossiping, nosy humans echoed throughout the night sky.
He had just traversed past an old tavern, the back road leading deeper into the sombre secrets of the forest.
"Naah what?" Another hushed voice cooed, leaning over the table to hear the words spoken of an old crone.
"T-The Queen has gotten a child!" Her tone was near to exploding with overwhelming joy, but she tamed it, as if the secret was one not widely known.
"You mean the Evil Queen!?"
"No! No! The true Queen! The real one! Snowwhite."
"Aah, you old hag! We know that!" Came the raspy response as the smelly man (at least for Graham his odour was too pungent) leaned back, "That's Emma, the Queen's daughter, and she is five by now!"
"N-No no! Not her daughter! A son! She is with a son. Apparently having been born only yesterday, during the glimmering full moon." A long, haggard finger crept from underneath dark robes to point outside the window and towards the glowing sphere in the sky.
"Why, you are joking! Do you have proof?"
"Proof? Proof!? Believe me for it is true! You will see so yourself soon!"
Sighing once, the huntsman dismissed listening to the conversation any further, hiking up a small hill which would inevitably lead him to a clearing.
'So Snowwhite has another child.' a smirk formed on his thin lips, 'Only suiting.'
As he approached his destination, the scent of fresh, moist earth having been dug over crept into his nostrils. Mixing with the clear fragrance of an evening air that spiralled around the ancient smell of the everlasting trees, a sense of nostalgia overwhelmed the huntsman.
The kind of blinding, fuzzy trickle you receive within your abdomen, working its way up to your head and causing a curt moment of wavering dizziness, before it left again.
Graham loved it. This was his territory, and now was the time to do what he could do best.
He puckered his lips, howling deeply, yet shortly. Not long and one of his pack brothers, Red Eye, appeared from beyond the thicket, giving him a casual once over.
"Let's go my brother." He spoke with a knowing smile, before they both set off.
Stealthily he glided along, eyes trained for such darkness accurately, observing his next prey.
He heard a brief rustling towards his left, orbs darting there eagerly, but found no object of interest. So his hunting continued, always keeping his senses perked for any sign of life nearby, not including his pack brother of course.
Red Eye would give him soft nudges, would let out a silent yap, but the hare that would then jolt forth, or the bird that would flap away fearfully were often tiny and scrawny.
Not ideal for hunting.
Then suddenly, a stronger crackle of shifting grass and crunching leaves echoed in his hearing. Something moved away from him.
Something large.
The huntsman slithered past a stump and bent down, his brother next to him, nose directed downwards as curious ears flickered up and forth.
"What have you found?" He questioned silently, his hand stretching out towards the weird deformation in the earth in front of him.
There seemed to be some kind of indentation. He frowned in irritation, feeling the edges and hollows carefully, always running over the lineage.
It was...
It was...a paw print!
But not any kind of print, a wolf's print.
And not any kind of wolf...
This print was by far much larger than any normal hound's. At least by three times, Graham concluded.
"What the hell is this beast..." Fear and admiration both swirled within his conscience at the shear thought of what this being could possibly be, if not simply an abnormally large wolf.
"Let's go follow the tracks, Red Eye." he hushed, eyes eagerly searching the night as he and his companion followed the prints deeper into the enchanted Forest.
Their journey lead them near a river. A silent gurgling of tumbling waters mixed with it's strong, cold odour was noted metres before they actually reached the bank's edge.
"The tracks stop here..." Eyes creased in confusion, following the flow of the river as it bent around a corner to the east and continued its seemingly endless path.
Red Eye yowled in disappointment as his nose no longer found a trace, gazing up at the huntsman with laid back ears.
Yet he was not willing to give up. The scowl on his forehead only deepening, Graham carefully trudged into the water, cold, biting moisture soaking his trousers and filling his boots, sending chills down his spine.
But he didn't care at that particular time. He bent close to the waters edge, one of his arms reaching inside and grazing the ground of the bed softly.
There were indentations here too.
"Clever wolf. Went into the waters to lose us, must know we're following him." Smirking with pride, he eyed the pathway of the water, nodding to his pack brother before he clambered out of the drenching wet.
He would not give up now, not yet. He would find this wolf. This mysterious beast of the night that seemed to want to play a game of chase with him.
Along the bank it went, following curves, going downhill for quite a while before finally the prints left the river and marched across the mossy grounds once more.
There it lead him to yet another clearing. The moon's beams shone mercilessly onto the now silvery grass, giving everything this shimmering, surrealistic touch.
Continuing his stride, Graham stopped abruptly upon the sound of rustling and crunching.
The wolf.
He must be here.
Even though it was one of his kind, he pulled his bow quickly, grabbing an arrow from the quiver and knocking it on, preparing, just in case this immaculate creature saw him not as a brother, but as dinner.
"Show yourself!" He called in a challenge, gulping down all anxiety.
As if he understood, the large canine gradually came through, from beyond shadows and into the light.
Dark, steel-tainted fur shimmered in front of him; a hound twice, no, thrice the size of any other approached him with obsidian, void-like eyes.
Graham froze, paralysed to the marrow at the sight.
Keeping it's head lowered yet it's ears high, the wolf came closer and closer, stopping a good five metres in front of the huntsman.
Red Eye yelped, hiding behind his elder brother, shaking slightly.
"What are you..." The words left his lips in a hushed whisper, barely audible to any normal ears.
Yet the wolf heard them.
Raising it's head, as if curious, it growled for a moment, sitting down and observing Graham for several mute minutes.
Even though he knew, instinctively, that this wolf would not attack him, that he hadn't come out for the hunt, at least not on him, he couldn't help but keep his bow up and ready, just in case.
The trepidation still prevailed within his system.
When nothing happened, when the pregnant pause became deafening to both of them, the wolf turned on its heels, disappearing once more into the safety of the shadows.
"Wait!" The huntsman lowered his bow, fearing he'd lose the wolf forever now.
His feet acted before he knew it: skidding across the ground and after the sombre being.
His pack brother, so he registered, stayed behind, too frightened as to dare continue on this journey.
Trees seemed to become denser and denser around him, darkness crawled around his vision at every angle possible. Yet he continued, hearing the low pants and steady pads of the wolf in front of him.
"Wait!" he called again, yet the beast ignored his plea and only increased it's pace.
But Graham didn't hesitate, he followed, and if he had to follow all night long...
The Night did not seem to want to end. Soon the huntsman lost himself in so much lightlessness that he thought it was all but a dream.
But for a dream, the feeling was too precise, the smell too accurate, the atmosphere too clear.
No, it was reality. Everything was real, and the wolf was leading him into a trap.
But he would not fall for it.
Even though his heart pounded dramatically within his ribcage, he took one last jolt between the crowding trees and entered, finally, a clearing.
But the light! It was so much brighter, so much warmer. Darting his eyes upwards, he had to acknowledge to his shock that, indeed, he had travelled all night long to hunt this wolf.
Daytime had just come, the sky a crepuscule scenery glittering with creamy maroons and dying oranges.
Fascinated by the view up above and the time that had traversed, he did not notice the canine only metres away from him shift in it's form, before something entirely different stood ahead.
Once his orbs lowered to inspect his surroundings, he jerked slightly, freezing in place once more.
Where had the...
Why was there...
Who...
A woman.
A woman stood in front of him, tall and proud, with keen, knowing eyes that held a secret not so unknown of as Graham might have thought. Her lips were in a slight sneer, her hair cascaded down her back in curling, dusky tresses.
Her gown was that of any normal village girl, her face an intriguing one. Her form perfect. She had a maroon, satin cloak in her hands.
"You're a girl." He spoke breathlessly.
The girl's sneer only widened, "Not quite."
Hauling the cloak over her shoulders, she turned on her heel, once more disappearing out of sight.
"Hey wait!" He sprinted towards her, his hand outstretched and grabbing for her thin, warm arm.
A pang of dizziness invaded his system at the fact that he was indeed holding onto a girl – who merely minutes ago had been a wolf.
"You better let go." She responded coolly, turning to look over her delicate shoulder.
"What are you." He questioned not before retrieving his hand to his side.
"What do you think?"
Furrowing his brows in confusion, he simply stared at her form.
As a human, she sure was a sight to behold. A beautiful girl, not much older than Snowwhite would be right now, the huntsman mused.
"You are a huntsman?" Her eyes darted to his armoury, quirking her eyebrow.
"Yes."
She turned once more, continuing on her path but at a pace he was capable of following.
"But I am unlike any other huntsman."
"That I can tell. You grew up with wolves, didn't you?"
He was about to respond to her inquiry when they heard the cluttering of horse hooves and the call of angry men.
Having reached the royal roads, they both gazed to the side from where they perceived the intrusion.
"The Evil Queen's men." The girl spoke with a worried tone, eyes wide and inspecting. She glanced to a ditch not far off and leapt towards it, "Quick!"
With further irritation intruding his mind, Graham simply did as told and followed her, hiding behind a large bolder and fallen tree as many armoured men on horses rode past as if hunted, or hunting.
"The Evil Queen's men? But she's no longer here!" He finally whispered as the echoes of horse hooves dissipated.
"They're renegade soldiers. Still haunting the land in her name, even though she left for Sherwood Forest some years ago."
"Sherwood? What would the Evil Queen want in Nottingham?"
Shifting slightly, she shrugged her shoulders, "Well..." her tone became slightly amused, "It is only a rumour, but people say she found true love again."
Twisting her head to face the huntsman more directly, she furrowed her brows, "Did you know her?"
"Whom?"
"The...Evil Queen of course."
"Yeah...for some time I did."
Nodding, but leaving the topic at that, the girl got back to her feet, "Well, we should leave this pathway before more renegades appear. It's dangerous during these hours."
Graham mimicked her actions, climbing up the ditch and back onto the even, stony road.
"I didn't quite catch it, you know." He finally said as they righted themselves.
"Catch what?" She gave him an intriguing stare.
"Your name."
"I did not catch yours either."
Looking her into those amber eyes, he was reluctant.
"Graham."
"Red."
She smiled upon those words.
A small silence interrupted their interaction, and just as Graham opened his mouth anew to speak, more hoove-clattering disturbed them.
"Oh no." Red rolled her eyes, already turning to jump but the men were faster.
Before any of them could register what was really happening, soldiers jolted off their horses, swinging swords and slashing with daggers.
Graham dodged, pulling out his own fine weapon. With swift movements he twisted to the back of one of the men, grasping his arm and stabbing him.
Glancing over, he saw Red kick one man in the gut, roaring at the action as she jerked to the side, avoiding a sharp sword's edge not before kneeing her attacker.
As more soldiers approached, the huntsman swung over his bow, knocking an arrow to it and shooting precisely at his victims, which all fell with agonizing cries.
Yet the echoes of horses and more determined battle roars came rapidly.
Graham grasped Red by her arm, pulling her along and into the safety of the forest.
They had three men following them, of which one he managed to take out with a determined arrow shot artistically between trees and grass.
Red halted at one point, her red cloak getting stuck on a resistant branch, she pulled, moaning, but already a soldier was upon her, his knife slashed at her tender skin.
She screamed, but pushed him away with all her might. Twisting his arm and braking the wrist in the process, she grabbed the knife and plunged it into the man's heart before he could defend himself any further.
His cry was the last they heard before the both of them scurried off further into the forest, the shadows and trees hiding them from their pursuers until they had travelled quite a distant.
Red pulled the huntsman back and both came to a panting halt.
"We've lost them." She breathed out shakily, hearing the trickle of water nearby and stumbling towards the river she found, "I need a drink." She croaked.
Graham snickered at her constitution, "I thought you were a wolf."
"I'm not worn out as much as surprised that these men are still around. Prince Charming had sent out an army lead by vigorous dwarves to take care of the rest of those bloody renegades."
"I take it they weren't quite successful." His rough hands found rest on her injured arm, where a large gash bled painfully, "You need this cleaned."
"I can take care."
But her answer didn't suffice. Instead, Graham tore a piece of his own shirt off, dipping it into the waters and dabbing her wound carefully.
She watched him with the curiosity of a dog observing a man eat.
His other hand disappeared within his trousers' pocket, only to retrieve a small flask of sorts.
"What is that?"
"Something that'll help." With his teeth he plucked the tiny cork and poured some of it over her arm.
Red winced, biting back as harshly as she could.
"I know, it stings quite bad, but it helps. I made it myself out of various herbs and leaves you find around here." Wrapping the torn cloth now around her arm securely, he approvingly let go, "There, that'll do."
She glanced from her makeshift bandage up to his face, observing his contours more accurately for the first time.
Red found a particular interest in his eyes; eyes that could speak so loudly and were yet such silent observers. It was at that precise moment she felt something within her twist, something knotty form, harden, and then explode, as if freeing her from a burden carried around too long.
And from that minuscule explosion, a new sensation was born. A feeling of warmth, security and excitement.
Like a puppy smelling fresh meat for the first time.
Just that it was something else. Something more.
Hence, she couldn't help but gradually smile at him, which he returned only too eagerly.
"Thanks..." Red murmured.
They sat there for quite a while, the dancing leaves of trees giving them shade and shelter.
They exchanged many words at some points, whilst only speaking scarcely at others. The interest both had for each other was strongly evident, yet neither dared to speak too loudly of it.
For Graham, a werewolf was the most intriguing of beings to ever discover in a forest such as this one. In his heart, so he claimed, he was a wolf through and through, which honoured and touched Red in some twisted manner.
"I am both." She spoke with radiating pride at one point, "I wouldn't want it any other way."
And the huntsman understood her feelings.
Red admired the nobility Graham thought and acted upon. Even though a hunter, much like herself at night, he respected each of his kills, shedding a tear of strong regard. He was honest when he said he'd have difficulty doing the same for a human, lest it be one he had held dear; of which there were near to none.
She glanced at him, observing him further as he continued to describe his life and upbringing amongst his pack brothers. She chuckled at some points, but stayed silent for most of it.
When he took note of her eager stare, he halted in his words, somehow dumbstruck, returning the lingering look.
Yet they both stayed perfectly still, simple ogling at each other as if there were nothing more astounding than that.
"You are not often in human company, are you?" Red laughed after a while.
He grinned, slightly flustered, "No, not really."
"Especially not female one." She added with an amused tone, causing ever so slight hints of red to tingle his cheeks.
Graham decided he liked the sound of her voice. It had a nice, even flow to it, much like a stream, and a soothing pitch.
And as they gazed at each other once more, he suddenly felt an impulse upon him, like a magnetic force that pulled him towards her, closer to her body, to her face, to her lips...
Red waited for the impact to come, her eyelids fluttering and coming to a closure, her skin prickling in anticipation.
A splash from the river got their attention; a fish having leapt up and disappearing again within the stream.
It was now that Red took note of the darkening sky, the sun hidden behind some ruthless clouds, the return of crimson hues that dyed the heavens a warming hue.
"Night time comes." She whispered, the smile never fading from her lips.
"Which means?"
"This is the last night of full moon." She returned her gaze towards him, grinning by now, "And I don't want to miss my chance."
"Your chance to what?" He creased his brows inquiringly.
"Run." She got up, heading for the forest and thus destroying their intimate moment.
"You'll turn again, won't you?"
"Yes." Her eyes sparkled as she said that, proud and mysterious all the way through.
"Can I come?"
"That depends."
"On what?"
"If you can catch me."
Her body faded, shifting, and before he knew it, she was once more on four legs, heading off towards the woods.
Graham chuckled, shaking his head and preparing his legs to follow.
He wouldn't lose her.
Not today, anyway.
A/N: I actually had the perfect ending in my head the other night, couldn't be bothered to write it down and pretty much forgot it...yh I know, screw me! :'D Well, WHADDAYA THINK!?
R&R HONEYS!