Thank you for your patience readers,
I know it can get irritating waiting, so I assure you I am keeping up on this story as best I can. Anyway, here you are.. I don't own Narnia or Narnian characters by the way, just the Oc's and story plot.

Here we go...

Maugrim's Rancor: Chapter 2
 Compromising

With one sudden burst of movement, a plethora of raccoons sprang free of the bushes, jumping in every which direction and skittering around with loud growls and bared teeth.

Their eyes blinked with suspicion and their upturned noses expressed their disagreeable opinions of these canine intruders.

The three wolves were instantly surrounded by the pack of raccoons and while they could stand there and bare teeth at each other all night, Rancor knew he would need to take it upon himself to open negotiations. Conversation was sometimes a better alternative than impulsively rushing in to a blood spilling fight.

Giving his sister's the command to stand down with the swish of his tale and the twitch of his ears, they growled their miner protests but eventually did as they were told. They lowered their heads and ceased the growling, much to the raccoon's surprise. The small night prowlers exchanged glances between one another, and after they had comprehended no attack was coming, Rancor stepped forward calmly to properly address them.

"Pardon our intrusion, we were under the impression we were being followed," he began in his deep, husky voice.
"You were," returned, what Rancor assumed to be, the lead raccoon.

"We don't trust wolves, especially ones that travel at night," continued the same raccoon.
"And you have good reason not to," growled out Burbite, taking a threatening step forward with flattened ears.

Rancor turned a warning glare back on his sister.
"While my sister is correct, we would prefer this encounter not to get messy," Rancor stated.

"I'm sure you would, but as we have been charged with the keeping of these Shuddering Woods during the night, as appointed by Aslan himself, we cannot allow you to continue on without assurance that you are not in fact conducting questionable business," the raccoon informed.

"Damned are those born in wolf skin these days!" barked Rancor," You step foot in any which direction and you are assumed of scandalous doings. Should we be put on trial just for breathing?!"

"Simmer down wolf, I am only preforming my duty under Aslan," the raccoon returned defensively, "Don't get your tail in a knot,"

"And what if I were to say my siblings and I were embarking through these woods at this very hour to preform a noble duty of our own? One which must be accomplished so as to regain the honor our race had disgracefully lost by aligning ourselves with the wretched White Witch?" Rancor inquired carefully.

"Then I would say be on your way, and may your travels be blessed by Aslan himself," the raccoon responded.
"Thank you," Rancor bowed his head.

The bunch of raccoons moved to open up an exit in their lines and the three wolves passed through them. Only when the siblings had trotted a good distance away from the pack of night watchers, did Rancor allow a smirk to stretch across his lips.

Once again, his brains had gotten him and his sisters out of a potentially unpleasant predicament. And the best part was everything he had said was true, from a certain point of view... He was preforming a noble duty for his father, and he would restore honor to his species, just not the kind of honor Aslan would favor.

"How are we to be assured the raccoons will not pass on word about us?" Ripclaw questioned, coming up along Rancor's side with a doubtful look on her face.

"We cannot be assured, but what we can take comfort in is the fact that the raccoons opinion of us is good, and any word they do pass along will be cast in a positive light," Rancor answered."For now, let us focus on the road ahead. We shall handle what troubles befall us when they come," he stated.

Several hours later:

The quaint little road was inactive in the early hours of the morning.

Just how Rancor wanted it. Still they would travel not on the road itself, but very near by it, keeping behind the cover of the bushes should an occasional passer go by.

"I'm tired. We've been traveling all night," remarked Burbite as she padded along behind her brother.

"I keep forgetting, you weren't put through all the hard endurance training mother forced me through," Rancor remarked.

Whether or not he intended that statement to be a gloat, or a mere fact, Burbite still took offense to it and responded with a sharp snarl.

"We can rest now," Rancor sighed, slowing his fast pace trot to stop before sitting down under a near tree in the shade. However harsh he had come to be with setting his sister's straight sometimes he would not deny them rest when they needed it.

Despite everything his mother had drilled into him, he was not cruel. The sisters collapsed into the cool dirt thankfully, blowing through their noses and resting their eyes. Rancor was admittedly happy for the brief respite himself, but he would not fall to sleep, since one of them had to stay up and keep watch.

Still, he lay his head down on his forepaws and relaxed. These days, Rancor used his spare thinking time to reflect back on his past lessons, bringing them to the front of remembrance should he need to recall anything important for his mission. Memories of the many restless nights he'd spent in prowling after countless victims returned to the forefront of his mind.

None of the lives he'd taken in his past however, would ever stand up to the kill he was planning to take in just three days time. The King Peter no doubt was completely ignorant of the ill will harbored against him...

Everybody in the entire country adored their Kings and Queens. Why would any one suspect a murderer was on his way right now to make quick work of the once Magnificent King Peter?

...

Many miles away:

In the throne room of Cair Paravel...

"Your highness, the reports from the western lands have come in," informed Captain Oreius.

The centaur walked in, his hoof prints clip clopping along the marble floors till he stood, torso bowed, before the thrones.

King Edmund, and the Queens Susan and Lucy were all out tending to different duties at the moment, leaving King Peter alone to supervise the castle and run country affairs.

"Very good," the young king responded, reaching out his hand to receive the parchments from his captain's hand with care.

It was very clear to Oreius that running a kingdom was not something Peter could have ever prepared for, and even after two years of time to grow accustomed to his new duties, the longing to be free and careless still lingered in Peter Pevensie's eyes.

Granted, he was very mature for a lad of his age, and Peter often took most of the burdens from his younger siblings shoulders, leaving them open to roam the country side while he stayed behind, organizing affairs with city officials.

"The keepers of the Shuddering Woods have reported strange movement," Oreius stated, even before Peter could begin reading the papers given him.
"What kind of strange movement?" Peter asked, cocking a curious brow.

"The leader of the Moonlight Police, Snuffwig, has sent an account of running into three wolves, traveling this direction from the inner heart of the woods," Oreius answered.
"Wolves? Why, wolves haven't been seen traveling through the woods for years," Peter mused.

"Snuffwig says he let the trio pass, but only after asking a few questions. However, he doesn't go as far to believe them incapable of causing trouble, so he sent a scout to follow after them and watch their movements," Oreius finished with a dark expression on his face.

"Oreius, why do you look so grave?" Peter asked his captain, smiling in amusement. He could see no cause for concern at this little piece of news. What threat could three wolves become?

"Your highness, are you perhaps familiar with the murmured rumors regarding the deceased Captain Maugrim of the Secret Police?" Oreious inquired, very seriously. Peter blinked.

"I'm afraid I don't know what you're talking about," the king admitted.
"That is well my lord, for they are only rumors, but none the less, I don't take much of anything lightly in these days of peace. Evil, though it has been successfully repressed since the destruction of the White Witch, doesn't truly ever die. It threatens to rise, given any cirumstance it is afforded,"

"And you would have me to believe that rumors about a deceased wolf captain should be a source of concern to me?" Peter questioned. He leaned on one of the arm rests to his throne chair, contemplating.
"Allow me to inform you of what these rumors entail," Oreius offered. Peter nodded his permission.

Oreius took a breath, swishing his tail then began.

"Well, your highness, the rumors as of late, tell of a wolf born of shadow, who walks among the deepest part of the woods, with flaming eyes and fur as black as ash. It is said that this wolf is in fact the ghost of Maugrim, wandering the wilderness in wait for revenge against his killer... You, my king," Oreius said this slowly.

Peter frowned slightly.
"But this is impossible, ghosts don't exist," Peter stated, wondering the moment he had spoken whether or not he had the right to define what things actually did or didn't exist. Before Narnia, he hadn't believed trees or animals could talk, nor in fauns, centaurs or many other magical creatures who walked around in his beloved country.

Having rethought his statement, Peter looked nervously up to Oreius.
"Ghosts don't exist... do they?" he revised.
"I have never in my long years come face to face with a ghost, so I'm afraid I cannot say," Oreius answered humbly, "However, there is perhaps a reasonable explanation for this rumor," he continued, "If I may..."

Peter eagerly nodded, looking to put to rest any fears these rumors brought upon him. Oreius proceeded.

"It was a known fact during the years of the White Witch's reign, that Captain Maugrim had a mate, called Shredla. He had many litters by this mate, all of which, his offspring grew to eventually become part of his forces. It was presumed, that all wolves of Maugrim's company parished in the battle between the Witch's forces and our army. But his mate, was unaccounted for. There is only one possible reason her body was not found on the battle field, and that reason is because she did not fight."

"But why, would a female who just lost her life mate not fight against the forces in which she was embittered towards?" King Peter could not help but ask.

"Well... it is my assumption, that she was in fact pregnant, or nursing," Oreius explained. Peter continued to give all his attention to the captain, taking in every detail.

"What forest dwellers may percieve to be as Maugrim's ghost may, in fact, be Maugrim's last offspring," the centaur finished. Peter thought this over.

What did this mean exactly? So there was a wolf somewhere out there who was the spawn of Maugrim... Did this mean he should be concerned? Peter wouldn't like to think so, but he just wasn't sure...

"Thank you Oreius, I shall take your words into great consideration, you are dismissed," Peter said finally, leaning back in his throne and looking over the papers on his lap.

Oreius bowed his head and left the king's presense when asked.

Once alone, Peter began reading through the reports slowly, his mind wandering back to the words spoken by his captain even long after the echo of his hoofprints were gone.

Peter could not seem to get his mind to focus on what he was reading, until his eye suddenly caught the words, "black wolf," and his gaze froze. He instantly back tracked and restarted at the beginning of the sentence. Snuffwig was giving details of his account in meeting the three wolves and the one male wolf whome had been spoken with, just happened to be pitch black...

"Oreius!" Peter suddenly called, jumping to his feet.

Hope you enjoyed the read! Check back in soon for more! As I said above, I update often. Meanwhile, please give me the great pleasure of getting to read your reviews!

-Stokin D Embers