Part Thirteen: Revelation

Cosette doesn't know what to wear.

It's a silly thing to consider, but it weighs on her mind anyway. Does she wear her nightgown? It will be easiest to convince her father that nothing's wrong if he catches her if she's in her nightgown. If he catches her inside she can say she went for water or to stretch her legs or that she was having a nightmare; if he catches her outside she can say she was feeling trapped, that she wanted to see the moon and stars and that she'll head right back into bed.

On the other hand, she doesn't really want Marius to see her in her nightgown. It feels far too forward. No to mention the fact that it will be colder in her nightgown, even if she wears her coat and shawl over it.

But if she dresses, what will she tell her father if he catches her? Will he believe that she simply decided to get dressed to go for a midnight stroll in the garden?

Perhaps she shouldn't consider being found out in her decision, though. Did it make her more likely to be found out if she worried about it? Did—

"Cosette, are you well?" Papa's voice is gentle, just the slightest hint of worry in it.

Smiling at the man, fighting not to blush, she nods. "Quite well, Papa."

"Are you certain?" He frowns, setting aside his book. "You've seemed… odd, the last few hours. Has something happened to make you upset?"

Upset? No. Upset is certainly not the right word for the giddy, excited, nervous feeling that is currently filling her chest. A soft laugh slips from her lips before she can stop it. "No, papa. I'm not upset about anything. I've just been thinking…"

Her father smiles, leaning towards her. "Oh? Thinking about what, to bring so much liveliness and deep thought to your face?"

Biting at her lip, Cosette quickly sorts one small truth from the cacophony of thoughts that have been battling in her head the last few hours. "Papa, do you think that we could have a dog?"

"A dog?" Her father blinks before leaning back in his chair, a low laugh rumbling in his throat.

Pouting slightly, she turns away. "It isn't anything to laugh about, Papa. I'm serious."

"I'm sorry, child. I meant no offense. I just find the idea of me owning a dog to be… I suppose ironic is close enough to the proper word." He continues to smile, though he no longer laughs. "What's brought this on all of a sudden?"

"Seeing the stray the other night made me think that I'd like to have a dog. He could be my companion, and he would help to safeguard the house if you need to be away." Folding her hands in her lap, she meets her father's gaze evenly. "We can feed him scraps from the kitchen. Surely dogs don't eat that much."

"It depends on the size and how hungry you want the beast to be." A bemused expression crosses his face. "You're really quite serious about this, aren't you?"

"I am." She nods, smiling as she thinks of Wolf's thick fur and warm eyes.

He taps the book against his leg gently, considering the idea. "Is there a particular dog that you have your eye on, or is this simply a fancy for any dog?"

"There may be one I'm interested in—or at least a particular type." She hesitates, debating how much to tell her father. She doesn't know exactly why she wants to keep Marius and Wolf a secret, but she does. For now, at least, she wants them to be hers, hers alone, her strange, curious, magic creatures. "There's a man who has a dog, a great big beast with the gentlest, kindest eyes you've ever seen. He's licked my hand before—the dog, not the man, of course. And I've been thinking that it would be nice to have a dog like Wolf of my own."

"And these dreams of a dog are what's made you smile so?" Her papa is grinning now, an expression that makes him look young despite his gray hair, that brings joy into his dark brown eyes.

"Yes." Studying her hands gives her an excuse not to meet his eyes as her cheeks heat again. It isn't entirely a lie, and that's why she can say it. Thinking of having a dog such as Wolf—of having Wolf as her dog, even—makes her heart soar.

The fact that Wolf's eyes quickly become Marius' in her mind, that she hears his soft, cautious voice telling her a censored version of the truth whenever there is silence… those things are things she will keep to herself, for now.

"Let me think on it for a few days." Still smiling, her father opens the book. "It would be difficult, with how much we travel, but we may be able to have a small dog. Or perhaps a cat. Some small animal for you to love, at least."

She tries to smile broadly, eagerly, as she turns back to her own book. She hasn't managed to read anything on the page, but since she's been staring at the same page for the last several minutes she decides to turn it anyway.

She still hasn't decided what she will wear, but tonight and Marius' secrets can't come fast enough.

XXX

He slips through the bars with the ease of practice, barely noticing the brush of cold iron against his skin.

What if she doesn't come? What if he waits in the garden, and she never comes? Should he show himself to her tomorrow, or should he take that as a sign and leave before things become more complicated?

What if she does come? Can he really do it? Can he really just show her what he is? What if she screams? What if she hates him? What if—

"Monsieur Marius?"

Her voice is quiet, frightened, and he tries hard not to startle her as he moves forward and lifts his eyes to take in her appearance.

She's beautiful. She's dressed in a different gown than the one she had worn in the afternoon, a loose, simple white dress that's covered by a thick coat and a thicker shawl. He thinks her dress is white, at least. It may be simply a pale yellow or cream or blue. It's hard for even his human-form eyes to make out colors in the dark, though he knows he can see movement much better than any human ever could.

"Monsieur Marius?" The fear fades from her voice as she sees him, a bright smile taking its place. "I was beginning to fear that you wouldn't come, that you would decide to keep your secrets secret. That would have made me very distraught, monsieur, especially after I went to all the trouble of dressing and slipping out. We should stay quiet, and stay away from the house, because my father is a very light sleeper. And I should stop babbling, I know, but I'm so happy to see you, monsieur."

"Marius."

She stares at him, questioningly.

Taking a slow step towards her, aware of the fear still showing in the way her arms are crossed over her chest, he repeats himself. "Marius. Please, just call me by my name."

"All right, Marius." Cosette's breath fogs the night air as she smiles, ducking her head and dropping her eyes. "And remember to call me Cosette."

"Cosette." Her name is beautiful. She is beautiful, and he feels an urge to protect her, to guard her, to defend her that he hasn't ever felt with anyone before.

It's because he hasn't interacted with enough humans, not like this. It's because her human fear—her uncertainty at being out alone, at night, with a strange man—is making her act submissive, head down, eyes darting low and not meeting his, arms protecting her vulnerable spots. He may not be an alpha as his father and grandfather were, but he's strong enough that he tends to feel protective instincts for subordinate wolves.

Or he did, once, when he allowed himself the pleasure of their company. When he wasn't exiled from his grandfather's pack, not strong enough to build one of his own, a pariah for sharing the beliefs of his father.

"Marius?" Cosette takes a step towards him, her breath fogging the air between them, and they are suddenly close enough that he could touch her if he stretched out his arm. "Is everything all right?"

"I… don't know how to go about doing this." He still hasn't decided if he wants to go through with this. Hours worth of contemplation has left him just as confused and conflicted as he had been when he made the impulsive offer to share his secrets.

"Is it really so complicated and strange?" She reaches out and takes his winter-chilled hand in her gloved fingers.

"Complicated, yes. Strange… it will be to you, though for me it is simply my life." His fingers move slowly, gently, so he won't startle her, tracing the lines of her fingers and palm.

"Would it help if I asked questions?" Her voice is eager, her eyes shining brightly, and most of the fear has left her stance and scent.

"I don't know." He shrugs, bemused, smiling as he meets her eyes.

She doesn't submit or try to show dominance. She simply smiles and stares back into his eyes, all bright curiosity and warmth. "A simple one, then. Did you bring Wolf with you, or is he at home?"

He laughs. He can't help it. It would seem a simple question to a human, and yet it cuts straight to the heart of the matter. "I suppose you could say I brought Wolf with me, yes."

Cosette's smile fades, a pout taking its place. "It's really nothing to laugh at me for. I am trying to help you, you know. Do all men laugh at women when they're making perfectly sensible suggestions or inquiries?"

"I wouldn't know. I've met only a sampling of men, and it may have been a poor one." His free hand rises tentatively, brushes at strands of hair that have slipped free to frame her eyes. "You're right, though. I shouldn't have laughed. It's simply that you plunged straight to the heart of the matter without even realizing it."

"Truly?" A look of puzzlement crosses her face. "I apologize for that, then. Where is Wolf, though? Did you tie him up on the street? Did you leave him outside the gate?"

"If you truly want to know…" Marius draws a deep breath, knowing what he's going to do. Let his people damn him if they will. This human, to him, right now, is worth all of their carefully-hoarded lives. "If you truly want to know, I can show you. But know that it may frighten you. Know that it will change everything about the way you see the world. This is knowledge that, once learned, can never be unlearned. And know that it could be dangerous for you to know."

Cosette pauses, her eyes wide, the sharp scent of fear suddenly in the air again. "I don't understand. You're talking about your secret. What does that have to do with Wolf's location?"

"Wolf's location is my secret." Letting go of her hand, he takes a reluctant step back, giving her space. If she panics, he doesn't want her to feel trapped by him. "I can tell you what I am. I will show you what I am, as proof. If you want to know, I will give you this power over me, because you have been incredibly kind."

"Werewolf." She breathes the word, her hands moving to cover her lips immediately. "Forgive me, monsieur. I know it's foolish. It's just a story, but it keeps coming to mind…"

"Werewolf." Marius hesitates for a moment, thrown off by her use of the word that should have been his. Perhaps he hasn't been so clever and careful as he thought he had been. "Yes. That's what the humans call my people. Werewolf. Man who can become wolf, wolf who can become man. Wolf is here because I am here. Wolf lives within my skin, just as I live within his."

"And you can prove it?" Her hands fall away from her mouth, eagerness shining from every inch of her body, the fear-scent fading. "You can show me?"

He smiles. "If you want me to."

"Yes. Oh, yes."

Taking a deep breath, trying to ignore the cold, he strips out of his coat and vest as quickly as he can before moving to unlace his shirt and trousers. The night is partially overcast, though the moon shines down brightly, so at least it's slightly warmer than some—

"What are you doing, monsieur?" Cosette has taken a step away from him, hands raised defensively, her face turned away, eyeing him with her peripheral vision. Startled horror fills her voice, and the scent of fear is suddenly strong again. "I warn you, if you try anything, it will only take a single cry to have my father—"

"I can't Change when I'm d-d-dressed." His teeth are starting to chatter from the cold, but his fingers still. "Well, I c-c-could, but they're my only c-c-clothes. I need to not b-b-break them."

"Oh." Lowering her hands, Cosette eyes him uncertainly. "Then I suppose I'll have to look away."

"Why?" A gust of wind brings snow onto his arms, onto his face, and he shivers.

"Well, because you'll be nude. You're a man, and you'll be naked." Her hands move, flustered. "And… and…"

"Cosette, I just t-t-told you I'm a werewolf." He knows, vaguely, that humans disapprove of nudity. It hasn't been an issue for him, though. His lack of a place to Change safely and the cold weather has meant he hasn't run up against the taboo. "Are you really more scared of my nakedness than t-t-that?"

"I'm not frightened. It's just… it's not…" A sheepish smile turns the corners of Cosette's mouth up as she turns her head to face him evenly again. "I suppose… it sounds rather silly when you say it that way. And I do very much want to see the magic."

"And I would very much like to C-C-Change, because it's c-c-cold." He's shivering convulsively now, the Change hovering just on the edge of his control. His body wants to protect itself from the wind, from the chill, from the snow, and since he's removing his clothes fur is the next best option.

"Please do. I'll be still and not frightened, I promise." Dark roses bloom in her cheeks, a blush that the night paints in shadowed hues. "Though if you could turn around or cover your… maleness… it may make this easier for me."

He doesn't wait for a second invitation. Turning away from her, very aware of the feel of her eyes on his back, he quickly strips off the rest of his clothing and allows the Change to sweep over him.

XXX

It's awful.

That's the only word that she can hold in her mind as she watches Marius' body shift. It's the only proper word, because the thing she is watching, the magic, is both magnificent and terrible.

It's terrible to see the way his body stretches, moves, twists, bones and skin changing in ways that her mind tells her it shouldn't be able to do. It's terrible to imagine how much it must hurt, and her hands are covering her mouth to keep any sound from escaping as she watches.

It's also magnificent. It's amazing, the way fur sprouts from his body, the way he falls forward onto four feet as his arms lengthen and his legs shorten. It's wonderful, wonderful and frightening, to know that something like this, that magic like this, truly exists in her world.

And then it's over. It couldn't have lasted that long, she knows. A half a minute, maybe, between when he turned away from her and when Wolf turns back, his eyes luminous in the moonlight, his tongue hanging from his mouth again.

He takes a cautious step towards her, his head held low, his ears pricked forward.

"It's true. It's really true." Bending down, she stretches out her hand towards the creature. "You're Wolf. You're both Marius and Wolf."

Wolf—Marius—yips, a short, sharp sound of assent, and his tail begins swishing frantically back and forth.

"Hush! Hush, you silly thing. You'll wake Papa." Placing a finger to her lips, she allows her other hand to creep forward until the fingers can brush against Wolf's—Marius's—face, fondle at his ears.

Which is, perhaps, not what one should do with a werewolf. Her fingers still as she stares at this impossible, beautiful creature. How should she talk to him? How should she treat him? What—

Wolf's head comes forward, presses up against her hand impatiently, and she automatically begins to scratch at his ears again. He settles down with a contented huff, his tail continuing to sweep along the ground, creating miniature snow flurries.

"You're a werewolf. Werewolves are real. You are a real werewolf." She laughs, softly, delighted. "No one will believe me if I tell them."

Wolf's head comes up, his eyes narrowing and his ears pinning back against his skull. After a moment's quiet contemplation he shakes his head, slowly, back and forth.

It's the most human gesture she's ever seen from him. It's extremely disconcerting.

"No? You think people will believe me?" She smiles, teasing at the tip of one ear. "Then you haven't been talking with people very long. They…"

Wolf's head moves back and forth again, a strong, slow, awkward negation, and a low whimper comes from his throat.

"Oh." She understands, remembering the other time Wolf cried, remembering Marius' hesitancy to speak of his secrets. "You don't want me to tell other people."

His ears prick back up and his tongue hangs out as he begins to pant, staring straight at her with Marius' eyes.

"A secret. Your secret." Her fingers brush the fur around his eyes. "Don't worry, Marius. I'll keep it, I promise. Oh, this brings up so many other questions, though! Why must I keep you secret? How did you come to be like this? How many of your people are there? What other kinds of creatures are there? Do vampires exist? Do the faerie people exist?"

Wolf's head tilts slowly to the side, and her fingers continue to scratch. Eventually he is flat on his back, his legs sprawled in the air, and her fingers are buried in the thick, warm fur of his neck.

"Are ghosts real? Are demons real—really real, present in this world real, ready to carry our souls away?" She pauses, her fingers pulling back from Wolf's fur without conscious volition. "You aren't a demon, though. You couldn't be. You're too…"

She tries to think of a word that won't be insulting to him and fails. It's just impossible to imagine this great beast with his beautiful brown fur as a demon. Demons didn't have you throw sticks for them for hours. Demons didn't lounge in the snow with their legs to the sky, tails waving frantically. Demons didn't lick your hand, their tongue gentle, or run from you in merry chase around the garden.

Did they?

Wolf stares up at her, rolling all the way over so that his eyes are right side up again.

No, she decides, smiling as she leans down to place a kiss between his eyes. No, demons couldn't possibly be as endearing as this creature is. "Would it be too forward to say that you're endearing? Though I suppose I did just kiss you. This is really quite unfair, Marius. I've gotten so used to treating Wolf as a dog that it's hard to remember now that he's not."

Marius tilts his head, his beautiful eyes studying her.

"Though these help." Her fingers trace the fur around his eyes again. "The fact that you keep your eyes definitely helps. I have so many questions, though. Would it be terribly difficult for you to change back again so that we could talk? Because I fear that wolf language was not one of the things they taught us at the convent."

He stands, shaking himself off, and moves over to his clothes. Gently, he uses his muzzle and teeth to arrange the fabric to his liking before turning to her. He waits for her to nod resolutely before turning in a half-circle, his back to her once more.

It's just as fascinating to watch him turn from wolf to human form, just as disconcerting, and she finds herself holding her breath as he shakily stands and begins drawing on his clothing.

He's so calm about it, so nonchalant, that she almost forgets to avert her gaze as he slides into his undergarments and trousers.

When he's dressed again he stands, takes a step towards her, and sways alarmingly.

"Marius?" She has a hand on his arm before she even thinks to touch him, supporting some of his weight. His face is ghostly white, matching the snow, and his eyes don't seem to quite focus on her properly anymore.

"Cosette." He smiles, brushing his fingers against her face again. "I don't suppose you have something to eat near at hand? Because I…"

He doesn't finish the statement, his eyes rolling back in his head, and it's all Cosette can do to lower his body softly to the ground.

She has an unconscious werewolf in her garden.

She has an unconscious male werewolf in her garden, and she doesn't know what's wrong with him.

"Marius?" She pats his face, gently, but he doesn't stir. "Marius, wake up. Marius, what's wrong?"

What had he asked for before he collapsed? Food. He asked if she had anything to eat at hand.

Laying her shawl over him to provide what extra warmth she can, her heart suddenly going far too fast, she heads for the kitchen.

She really hopes that she's right about what he needs, because she's never going to forgive herself if her magical man dies like this.

XXX

He wakes slowly, in stages, his body aching as it hasn't in a very long time.

First he's aware of warmth, surrounding him, in his mouth, in his throat. Then comes the taste of sweetness, sugar on his tongue, and he swallows appreciatively.

This is what he needs. He needs food. He needs energy. He pushed his body too far after too long on starvation rations, Changing too quickly in rapid succession, and the pounding in his head and the bruised feeling in all his muscles is the price he will pay for it.

Opening his eyes, he finds himself staring up at Cosette's face. Tears make her eyes shine like stars, and he reaches up tentatively to brush trails of liquid from her cheeks.

"Marius?" She clasps his hand in both of hers, holding it to her cheek, rubbing her skin against his hand in a gesture that reminds him very much of being with pack-mates. "Are you all right? Marius, please speak with me. Did I do what I should have? Do you need something else?"

He needs meat. He desperately needs meat, his stomach grinding against itself, but if he eats too soon it won't stay down. "I'll be fine. I just… over-exerted myself. I haven't been eating terribly regularly, and shifting quickly when it's not the full moon can be very draining."

"Then why did you do it?" Cosette stares down at him, her brows drawn together. "You could have just stayed as Wolf! You could have asked for food earlier."

"I was so caught up in speaking with you—showing you this—I didn't even realize how close I was to the edge." Sitting up causes all his muscles to seize, and he whimpers out a low breath. Cosette's shawl slips down from his chest, he loses the comfort of her body heat against his back, and the chill of winter returns with a vengeance. "What was it that you gave me?"

"Warm tea and honey." Cosette gestures to a cup, nestled in the snow next to her. "I had the tea already. The honey was in the cupboard, and I thought the warmth would be good given that it's cold. If you didn't wake up I was going to get Papa, but I didn't know what I'd tell him about you and—"

"You did well, Cosette." He takes her hand in his, smiling. "You did very well. If you'd let me have the rest of the tea and just rest here for a moment, I can answer the questions that you wanted to ask."

"You're sure?" Cosette bites at her lip, handing over the now lukewarm tea and rearranging the shawl around his shoulders. "If you need to go somewhere to get warm or get food—"

"I don't have anywhere to go." He makes the admission sheepishly, not meeting her eyes. "It's why I came here that first night. I was freezing to death. I needed somewhere to avoid the wind."

"That's terrible!" Taking his hand in hers, Cosette squeezes it tightly. "Aren't there other werewolves you could stay with? Do you have family or friends or… oh. Your grandfather, he's the one who threw you out, right? He's a werewolf, too?"

"It's… more complicated than that." Marius hesitates, taking another drink. He feels less shaky with every small bit that he drinks, though his stomach growls fiercely. "I left my grandfather's pack. I severed the pack-bond myself. I'm still young enough that it's acceptable behavior, though he… wasn't very happy with me. I haven't found a pack that I liked or that would accept my father's views."

"Pack-bond? Pack?" A bemused smile pulls at the corners of Cosette's mouth. "You have to speak more simply, Marius. I don't understand any of this. I didn't even know if it was silly to assume that your grandfather was also a werewolf!"

"Almost all werewolves are born to other werewolves. There are tales of humans who become Pack—that's what we usually call each other, Pack, or just wolves—but I've never met anyone like that. I think it might just be a story, a tale to intimidate pups with—don't trust old strays, they might be humans trying to slip into our world."

Cosette's expression falls, hurt showing around her eyes and in the downturn of her lips. "You don't like humans?"

"Well, I mean…" Rubbing at the back of his neck, Marius shrugs helplessly. "Humans have tried to exterminate us. Repeatedly. The human churches call us monsters and demons and call for our death. Hiding from humans has been the Pack's choice for the last few centuries, because the general consensus was that if we didn't we'd all die."

"That's terrible." Cosette's shoulders slump. "I'm sorry. I never even thought…"

"It's not your fault. It has nothing to do with you. You've only been kind." Cupping her face with one hand, he stares into her eyes. It still startles him, each time she simply meets his gaze, no hierarchy acknowledgement or struggle between them. "That's why I decided to trust you."

"I'm honored." A pleased smile makes Cosette's face radiant. "But tell me what the other things you said meant—pack-bonds? And what did you mean about the moon?"

"Um… pack-bonds are the magic that ties a pack together." Marius hesitates, seeing the look of confusion on Cosette's face. It's so hard to explain this in human terms, when it's something that he's just always known. "Every wolf has some magic of their own. It's what allows us to Change, to shift from wolf to man and back. The more magic someone has, the more dominant they are. Every pack has an alpha, the leader of the pack. The alpha is the most dominant member of the pack, and ties the magic of all the wolves in the pack together—usually five to seven adults and all the pups from birth to seventeen years old or so. The pack-bond lets pack members draw on each other's strength, share each other's emotions."

"You can read other wolves' minds?"

"No." He chuckles, turning it to a cough as Cosette's eyes narrow. "There are stories about wolves who can read each other's mind, their mate's or their pup's or a really strong alpha, but I don't think those are true, either. What we can do is sense emotion—anger, sadness, joy, fear, pain, hunger, anything really strong. It lets us find and help each other if we need to, keeps the pack together and bonded. When you have a pack, that is."

He doesn't miss it. He won't let himself miss it, the touch of other minds on his, the camaraderie of other wolves, the simplicity of eating his fill and shifting whenever he wants to. The wolves wouldn't accept his father; they won't accept him; and that means he doesn't need them.

Especially now, when he has Cosette.

Standing, Cosette rubs at her arms. "It's so different. Marius, this is all just so incredibly different than anything I've ever known."

"I could say the same thing back." Still holding the empty cup, Marius hauls himself to his feet, trying not to wince too much. "I haven't ever talked about this with someone who hasn't just lived it all their life, who doesn't just… understand it. And I've never known anyone who was afraid of seeing someone naked."

"You're perfectly fine seeing women naked?" Cosette's eyebrows both climb. "You've seen women naked?"

"Pack females, yes." He shrugs. "Except for when they're very pregnant or have very young pups they're nursing, they pretty much look like Pack males."

"So different…" Cosette just stares at him in stunned silence.

"You'd asked about the moon." Marius smiles, reaching out to take her hand. At least she doesn't flinch back from him, though she blinks down uncertainty at their entwined fingers. "Did you want to know still, or has this already been too much?"

"I want to know." Squeezing his fingers tight, she smiles up at him. "It's amazingly overwhelming, and I can't promise that I'm going to understand or remember it all, but I love it, Marius. I want to know everything that you can tell me. Is it true that the moon controls when you change?"

"Yes and no." He smiles, tilting his head back so he can view the half-crescent of the Lady. "We all have to Change on the full moon. We can't control it. It's the price the Lady demands for us being what we are. And it's hardest to Change on the new moon, when she's sleeping and quiet, though it's certainly possible."

Cosette slowly leans her head against his shoulder, her eyes also fixed on the sky. "The Lady? Is that what you call the moon?"

"The White Lady. She's—"

The crash of the garden door opening cuts him off mid-thought.

"Cosette!" The voice is panicked, human, male, gruff. Footsteps crunch in the snow near the house. "Cosette!"

"Hide." Cosette pulls away from him immediately, her voice a rough whisper. "Hide, Marius. Don't go far, though. I'll bring food as soon as I'm able, probably later tonight, and I'll see what I can do so far as finding a place for you to stay. Hide!"

He doesn't wait for her to repeat the command, running for the densest part of the garden, crawling under branches and through bushes, desperate to distance himself from the house and the angry human.

He can hear Cosette's voice, soft and laughing, but his ears aren't sensitive enough to make out what she says. Eventually, though, the door to the house opens and closes again, and he is left alone.

Huddling in his coat, Cosette's shawl wrapped around him for extra warmth, he settles down to wait. Inhaling the sharp, cold scent of snow, the rich, dry scent of hibernating vegetation, and the human, wonderful, unique scent of Cosette, he smiles.

He may not have a pack. He may not have a home. He may not even have the strength left to Change.

He has Cosette's trust and affection, though, and for now, that's quite enough.