Author's Note: Thanks again for all the reviews! There is this and one final chapter in this arc, then a slight time-skip to the next arc. Still debating breaking the story up or not. Hope people continue to read and enjoy!
Part Nineteen: A Stray's Request
Enjolras is the last one to the Musain.
Pausing as he enters the room, he scans through the pack, taking in their positions and what each passively sends him through their pack-bonds.
Most are busy being fascinated by the stray. The young male stray sits at a table in the center of the room, tense despite the fact that he's smiling as Courfeyrac talks to him. Courfeyrac, Bahorel, Jehan, Joly, Bossuet and Musichetta engage the stray in small talk, and Enjolras can tell that all of them are calm, curious, but unafraid.
Combeferre, Feuilly, Grantaire and Monet sit at a separate table, Combeferre with a book open in front of him. The four of them are the first to raise their heads, Combeferre with a welcoming smile, Grantaire with a nervous grin, Monet with a pensive frown, and Feuilly with a steady stare and a quiescent pack-bond that Enjolras finds hard to read.
Moving to their table, Enjolras settles into a chair. "What have I missed?"
"I saved a stray." Grantaire practically hums with nervous energy as he submits, a desire to be praised mixing with a fear of being reprimanded. "I hope it was all right."
Combeferre covers his eyes with his right hand, clearly exasperated, closing the book that he had been studying with the others. It's one that he and Enjolras had studied thoroughly four, five months ago, and Enjolras wonders briefly why Combeferre is carrying it again.
Trying not to smile, Enjolras nods gravely to Grantaire. "Could you tell me in more detail what happened?"
Monet answers before Grantaire can find words. "It was my birth-pack—my father and the gamma of the pack. They were threatening the stray."
"They said they were going to kill him." Grantaire bares his teeth, anger and disgust sliding along the pack-bond as he thinks back on what he saw. "The stray wasn't doing anything. He said that he had a right to be in neutral territory, which he does, and they went crazy. They started saying that he must have been talking to the humans or to our pack, and then they dragged him off and said that they were going to kill him."
"It's likely because of what happened with me." Feuilly's voice is a low, frustrated growl. "They've never forgiven me for being human-born, or for taking Monet with me when I left."
"You didn't take me. I followed you." Monet's hand locks hard around Feuilly's wrist. "And they have no right to be angry at me for choosing a different pack. Maybe if they hadn't been such closed-minded idiots I wouldn't have left."
"You're certain they were going to kill him?" Enjolras glances over at the stray, taking in the bruises on his face, the scratches and split lip.
"I'm certain." Grantaire's certainty is a palpable thing. "It's all right that I saved him, right?"
"Yes. Acting when you see injustice being done is always all right." Offering Grantaire a slight smile, Enjolras turns to Combeferre. "You talked with the wolves who did this?"
"Briefly." Combeferre's eyes study his hands. "They were planning to kill Grantaire, as well, when I got there. They said that he attacked them without provocation. They were hoping that killing one of our pack would break you."
"Ah." Leaning back in his chair, Enjolras considers this new bit of information. That explains the steady pulse of tension he's been getting from Combeferre ever since the altercation, despite Combeferre's repeated assurances that everything's fine. "I suppose it's a clever tactic on their part, a way of attacking me without properly attacking me. I'm also going to make sure that all the packs learn quickly it isn't a tactic they should ever try again."
Peace, Enjolras.
The sense of calm and security from Combeferre increases until it's all Enjolras can feel, Combeferre's fingers resting atop his. Closing his eyes, Enjolras allows himself to sink into his beta's mental embrace for a moment, comforting them both.
Then he draws a deep breath and turns his gaze to Grantaire. "You had proper provocation. I'll reiterate with the other alphas that neutral territory covers all wolves, stray or pack, and remind them what the price of killing a wolf on neutral territory is."
War. An alpha battle for him, a pack war for his wolves, and he's certain he could win if he had to. They have more wolves, stronger wolves, more determined wolves, and he will always do what is necessary to protect his people from outside threats.
Even if it's something he would much rather never have to do again.
"Their threats against me… actually didn't bother me all that much." Grantaire's head is low, his hands moving nervously along his glass, hesitancy and fear bleeding along their pack-bond. "I'm harder to kill than I look. And Combeferre and the others came when I called. And you wouldn't let me die without a fight, I don't think."
"No. I wouldn't." Stroking stray strands of hair back from Grantaire's eyes, Enjolras smiles at his newest pack member. His fingers are trembling, just slightly, but he can't seem to make them stop.
This is bad timing. There's still too much magic running through his veins, too many instincts trying to drown his reason and his intellect. Usually using his magic leaves him exhausted, drained, but taking another pack member is different. Perhaps it's because he's using the other's magic as much as his own when he manipulates the pack-bonds, but he always feels… too bright, too strong, too… everything after adding to the pack. It was part of why he had been so determined to return to normalcy—that and the fact that having the pack distracted for the last few days has meant their human contacts were beginning to wonder if there was trouble.
Worrying about timing will do nothing to change it, though. Touching Grantaire's shoulder, he sends the submissive wolf a sense of calm and approval. "Has the stray said what he wants?"
"A den." It's Combeferre who answers. "He says that he doesn't want a pack. He's not even interested in talking with us. He says that he just wants a den, a safe place to stay, and if possible access to the university."
Tilting his head, Enjolras frowns. "He's certain he doesn't want a pack?"
"Very certain." Courfeyrac's arm is around Enjolras' shoulders before Enjolras is even aware that his gamma has left the stray's table. "He is quite the interesting little conundrum. He seems sane enough, though rather shy, but there's something… off about him."
"He's got a weird scent." Grantaire draws a deep breath, joy passively flooding his mind and spreading out to the pack as he scents their pack-bonds. "He doesn't smell like a pack or other wolves at all, but it's like he… almost does?"
Enjolras lifts an eyebrow and turns to Courfeyrac.
"He doesn't smell like wolves. The strongest smell on him is a human female. And his scent… a mate-bond is supposed to be a combination of your scent and the one or ones you're bonded to. It's a very… distinctive smell. And he doesn't have one, but every once in a while… it's like his magic is trying to form one. I don't know. You'll have to sit and listen to him and smell him yourself, Enjolras."
Enjolras' eyes close again, his mind following the bright flame of Courfeyrac's eager energy through the contact Courfeyrac has with his arm. "Or you could give me the memory."
Courfeyrac hesitates a moment before nodding, resting his chin against Enjolras' shoulder. "Or I could give you the memory."
It's different than taking votes from the pack, though similar in a lot of ways. Instead of opening himself, letting their thoughts all wash through him and then trying to sort through them, he focuses on Courfeyrac. He touches only Courfeyrac's pack-bond to him, and he waits for Courfeyrac to be ready, to call up the memory, before submersing himself entirely in the sensations that Courfeyrac remembers.
It's when he's talking with Marius about what he wants to do. It's always when Marius is considering the future, the immediate past, when he's being quiet about something that is desperately, direly important to him. It's a shift in Marius' scent, in his magic, a stretching and a reaching for something that Courfeyrac can't name. It's a heightening of the human-scent around him, though that doesn't make any sense.
It's an oddity, a strangeness that Courfeyrac has no name for, but it doesn't seem dangerous.
"Interesting." Speaking helps Enjolras to focus again on his own body, his own mind. Combeferre helps, too, a steady, patient presence eager to have him back, uncertain that doing what he did was wise or necessary. He needs to use his magic, though, to do something with it so it isn't a distraction, and it's always easiest to find his balance between Combeferre and Courfeyrac. "He won't talk about it, I'm assuming?"
"No." Courfeyrac shrugs. "He won't talk about a lot of things. All he'll say is that he's from Gillenmorand's pack originally, that he had a falling-out with the old man, and that he's looking for a den in Paris but not a pack."
"I suppose that leaves us with a very simple question, then." Enjolras studies the stray again, his curiosity piqued. "Do we help him find a den or do we simply let him leave?"
XXX
Marius watches the alpha nervously, trying not to give any offense to the wolves who are still talking with him, knowing that his divided attention is going to be obvious to them anyway.
They shouldn't take any offense from it, though. How could a wolf see an alpha like that and not get distracted?
Enjolras. He should have recognized the name. Maybe if his head hadn't been ringing from the start due to the blow to his neck he would have. There are only a few alphas he hasn't approached, and Enjolras is one of them due to the female's reputation.
The strongest alpha ever seen.
A wolf who intends to change everything, to see their people slaughtered by the humans due to his folly.
A monstrous alpha, a travesty of nature, the only wolf Gillenmorand has ever decreed as a mistake the White Lady made.
And yet…
Enjolras' wolves saved him. Enjolras' wolves seem content, energetic, well cared for, eager, happy, the pack-magic between them strong enough to raise the hairs on Marius' arms whenever two or more of them are near him.
It's confusing, all that he's ever heard about these wolves contradicting all that he sees, and he doesn't like it.
He doesn't know what to do about it.
Finally Courfeyrac returns to him from Enjolras' side, the gamma grinning broadly. "Ready to meet our alpha, Marius?"
"If it's necessary." Marius can't keep the strain from his voice. "I would prefer not to, since I have no intention of asking the pack for anything, but if you really want me to…"
"You want a den, right?" Courfeyrac's hand on his arm is gentle and conciliatory, the female wolf's smile losing some of its bright edge but none of its charm. "We might be able to help you with that."
"What?" Marius straightens, suddenly much more interested in this meeting. "Without my being pack?"
"Just talk with us for a few minutes." Courfeyrac keeps the statement as a request rather than a command, unlike most wolves of his rank. "All right?"
Nodding, Marius stands. "All right."
The whole pack follows them to Enjolras' table, forming a loose circle two-wolves deep in most places. They don't hem Marius in, though, giving him room to back away or even run if he feels the need to.
Submitting to Enjolras, Marius clenches his hands into tight fists, reminding himself again of what he wants. He just wants a den. He just wants a safe place to stay. If it were possible for him to attend university again, that would be nice, but it's not imperative.
All he needs is a safe place to stay so that he can go back to Cosette.
"Marius." Enjolras stands to face him, the female's beta and gamma flanking him. Enjolras' almost exactly the same height as Marius, though much slimmer in build, but his power flows from him and through the rest of the pack and the room in no uncertain terms. This female is alpha, and Marius is not and will never be capable of being his equal. Enjolras' voice is deeper than Marius expects as he continues. "I'm glad that my pack could be of assistance to you today. You spoke correctly when you said that all wolves have a right to walk safely on neutral ground."
"It's a right that doesn't mean much without the strength to back it up." Raising a hand to touch at his split lip, Marius shrugs. "I'm grateful to still be alive, but I'm not interested in being involved with your pack."
Enjolras inclines his head, contemplative. "Do you disagree with our policies that strongly?"
"You want to eliminate alphas." Marius shrugs again. "I don't think you could or that you should. Especially seeing you… it's hypocritical. It's foolish. It's against nature."
"I want all wolves to have a voice, submissive or dominant. I'm not trying to eliminate packs or to claim that all wolves are exactly the same. Is that what some are saying?" Enjolras' eyes narrow, his fingers drumming lightly against his thigh. "We'll all have to speak again with other packs, to help to correct the impression they have of us. As for it being against nature… the humans use that excuse to slaughter us. Who are we to say what nature is for or against? We are capable of thought and restraint and compassion, and we should use all three."
"We're also capable of hatred and violence." Marius touches his split lip again. "I don't want to debate Pack policies and politics with you, though. I thank you and yours, as I said, but unless you know of someplace that I can have a safe den…"
"Just a den? Not a pack?" Enjolras tilts his head slowly to the right, studying Marius. "Could you tell us why you're not interested in a pack?"
Because any pack he joined would try to kill Cosette. Because he's decided that he cares for the human woman more than he cares for any of the wolves who have hounded him, tormented him, laughed at him or his ideas. "I've approached alphas in the area. They don't approve of my ideas."
"All the alphas?" Enjolras keeps it as simply a question, not an accusation.
"Most. I talked with Armand first, and he turned me away." Marius tries not to let his face burn at the memory. The older alpha is on relatively friendly terms with Gillenmorand, had known Marius as a pup, but he hadn't had any patience for Marius when he came looking for a pack. He hadn't seemed to have patience for much, clearly distracted, and Marius had left shortly after he arrived, disheartened and alone. "I've talked with Badeau. That… didn't go well. And I talked with Paquet, but he didn't want me, either. After that… I wandered. I've been chased off of four other territories because I tried to hide on their land without them finding me."
Enjolras inclines his head slightly, accepting the story, not passing any judgment yet. "Aside from me, who else haven't you approached?"
"Uh…" Marius tries to think back on the alphas in Paris. They're one of the things all wolves in the city quickly came to know, though when he was with his grandfather's pack he tended to let the politics of the area simply flow around him without actually engaging them. "Geroux, I think? Another female. Another older pack. One of your neighbors."
"That sounds like Geroux, yes. He's a good alpha." Enjolras smiles, faintly. "I could introduce you to him and intercede on your behalf if you wanted to reconsider trying to find a pack."
Marius shakes his head. "He's not going to want me. I share my father's views on humanity."
"And what would those be?" Enjolras tilts his head to the other side, still curious rather than threatening.
"That wolves should be able to follow human alphas. That wolves should be able to work for a human if they find one worthy. That we should be involved in the human politics, that it is possible to protect our people by ensuring that the best human alpha is placed in charge and remains in charge." Marius finds himself warming to his topic, a smile on his face as he thinks back on his father's expression while the man spoke of his time in the military, leading his pack among humans. "This human idea of a king, of passing alpha power down through a bloodline, it's all wrong. Power can be passed through blood, certainly, but not every alpha throws alpha pups. The strongest, the most charismatic, the smartest, the ones who can bring the most stability and gain to the territory and the pack, that's who should be in charge. And wolves recognize an alpha. Human or not, magic or not, an alpha is an alpha, and we have every right to follow them. We have a duty to follow them, to help them, to make sure that the human pack we live within is strong and well-guarded just as our wolf packs are."
"Well." It's Courfeyrac who breaks the silence, his tone pensive and considering. "At least he said that he doesn't like the monarchy."
Marius glances around the circle of wolves and finds them all watching him, some frowning, some with amused grins, but none with understanding. Pity, perhaps, from the enormous submissive who first saved his life, but no understanding.
Face flushing red, Marius straightens and takes a step back from the table. "As I said, my views are not generally accepted within the pack, though I hope that one day they will be. I expect no assistance from you. If you will allow me to take my leave—"
"You're free to leave any time you wish." Enjolras continues to watch him, a slight frown on the female's face. "But we haven't discussed all of your options yet."
"I will find a den on neutral territory. Hopefully the other packs will leave me alone after… this afternoon." Inclining his head, Marius turns to leave.
"Marius…" Courfeyrac's hand on his shoulder causes him to pause. "We're not angry, Marius. We're simply surprised. It's not often that we find others who have been ostracized for their views, and yours weren't… quite what I was expecting."
For a long moment Marius is silent, debating simply walking out and leaving these strange creatures and their stranger ideas. They keep dangling the possibility of a safe den in front of him, though, and he would really rather not die. "They are my beliefs. I don't intend to change them. The hierarchy is important, and it includes the humans as well as us."
"I assume, from the way you talk, that you're referring to Napoleon?" It's Enjolras' beta, Courfeyrac's mate who asks the question, his arms crossed in front of his chest, his tone cool and controlled and hard to read.
"Yes." Marius swallows, meeting the other male's gaze despite the fact that his eyes want to slip away, to show proper deference to a man who would be alpha in any pack aside from this. "Yes, I am."
"He was a charismatic man and a good military commander." The other male's eyes narrow. What was this male's name? He had introduced himself. Marius should remember his name, but it's hard to think with the man staring at him with such intensity. "He was also a tyrant at home and abroad, crushing dissent, stifling speech, conquering other nations, and for what?"
Marius waits, but eventually it becomes clear that the other male wants him to answer. "For the glory and safety of the pack."
"There is no glory and safety in invading other packs' territories. There is no glory and safety in denying your own pack members a chance to speak, to act, to learn." Combeferre's eyes gleam, his teeth showing white as he leans forward. "The only obeisance that is worth anything is that which is given freely, for shared ideals. Any alpha who would try to take it is an alpha not worth following."
"Peace, Combeferre." Enjolras' fingertips glance across his beta's shoulder, but Marius knows more passes through the pack-bonds that he can't sense. It's obvious in the way Combeferre relaxes, the way Courfeyrac follows suit, an easy smile taking the place of the pained grimace that had been on his face. Enjolras' gaze never leaves Marius, though, a considering, calculating stare that Marius can't read. "We have heard your opinions, Marius. Perhaps one day you will be ready to hear ours with an open mind and an open heart as well. We won't press you on it today, though. Today you're simply looking for someplace safe to stay. You don't want to consider joining a pack."
He can't consider joining a pack. Even these mad wolves, who laugh at his politics, would undoubtedly tear the city apart to kill Cosette if they found out how much she knows. "I'm not interested in a pack."
Enjolras nods. "Just because of your politics, or is there something more that keeps it from being an option?"
Marius stays silent. He can't give away a lie if he doesn't tell it. He's been using a similar tactic with Courfeyrac all afternoon, and it seems effective.
"All right, then." Enjolras straightens slightly. "In the past, the pack has considered annexing territory to those in need of safety if they didn't wish to join with us for one reason or another. There would be no pressure on you to join the pack, and you would have the protection of the pack's territory. Is that something that you'd be interested in?"
Marius blinks, trying to make sure he's parsing the words correctly. "You'd give me part of your land? Just like that? Won't it… won't your wolves be angry?"
"We haven't actually had to try it." Enjolras shrugs, an elegant, economical movement. "But I believe our pack will be able to leave you alone, yes. You're not a threat to us. If we find our instincts too difficult, we'll approach you and discuss other options. Is this something that you'd be interested in?"
"Yes." Marius answers without hesitation. If he hesitates, he might think better of it, and he can't afford to. He needs a safe den, and despite their oddities Enjolras' pack is feared and their territory respected by other packs. "So long as you leave me alone and there isn't any pressure to join the pack, then yes, I would very much like that arrangement."
"So long as you present no danger to the pack, we would leave you in peace for as long as you wished." Enjolras' gaze finally slides over to Courfeyrac. "Did you want—"
"You all know how I'm going to vote." Sliding an arm across Marius' shoulders, Courfeyrac guides him toward the door into the Musain proper. "Come and find us when the discussion's over."
