Author's Note: We're fast approaching the end! Again, thanks to everyone who's reading and keeping up with this. There is lots of politicking and a little bit of violence in this chapter, but if you've made it this far you should be just fine.
Arc Two, Part Ten: Priorities
Marius manages not to turn and run as soon as he steps foot in the conclave.
It's an impressive feat, really, because every instinct he has is telling him to bolt, to hide, to cower, to disappear, to be anywhere but here, because if he stays here he will die.
It's not intentional. That fact actually frightens him more, as he realizes that the morass of power swirling around him isn't actually directed at him but rather sliding from the wolves scattered across the room in small clusters of two or four. Swallowing hard, Marius finds himself huddling against Courfeyrac's side, hiding in the other wolf's shadow as though that could keep him safe.
The room they've just entered is large, the ceiling arching up to well over twice his height. It's one of the larger buildings on the university campus, safely ensconced in neutral territory. There are tables and chairs scattered across the length of the room, tucked into corners and against walls, none of them directly facing each other. Food and drink has been placed on several of the tables, along with cups and plates, but no one seems interested in eating. The center of the room is dominated by a circular table with nine chairs set equidistant around it, though no one is currently sitting there.
No one is currently seated, no one willing to lower themselves when other strong wolves surround them. Every pair here contains at least one alpha, each alpha standing with the wolf that they chose as their second for this meeting—betas, gammas, Marius thinks he smells one delta, perhaps, though there's so many scents and so much energy here that it's hard to take it all in.
They are the last ones to arrive. Marius realizes that as a hush settles over the room, all eyes turning to flit over Enjolras before landing on Courfeyrac and himself. His skin itches, all his instincts crying that this is madness, that this many strong wolves in one room together must lead to a battle and that if they are to survive it they must submit.
Submit, submit, behave, be wary, the impulses brush against his mind over and over, but he is bound to none of these wolves. He belongs to none of their packs, and so they cannot force him to do anything, and he raises his chin in stubborn defiance.
Eyes meet his, Badeau with a brief laugh as he surges forward from the far wall, Bellamy with a hostile glare as he closes in on their party from the right, and Marius finds his head dropping and his eyes turning away without his intention.
He must survive. He must return to Cosette. And that means, if these wolves attack him, he should submit.
So wrong, now, in this situation, so useless, but his instincts are there anyway.
Bellamy and Badeau break off their approach, meeting each other in the center of the room as Enjolras takes a half-step to the side, placing himself between them and Marius.
"Take a moment. Take a few deep breaths." Courfeyrac's voice is still cheerful, somehow, though he isn't that much more dominant than Marius and must be feeling the strain of this meeting.
And Courfeyrac could be an alpha.
The realization that all of the alphas must be feeling something similar does nothing to cheer Marius as he forces himself to nod and take a step away from Courfeyrac. "I'm fine. Um… when does this begin?"
"When Armand decides it does." Enjolras' words are quiet as he leads them to the left-hand side, to a somewhat isolated table. "He's always the one to call it to order. He had the respect of the older alphas from… well, from before things changed. He's usually quite good at gauging the time to draw us together."
Marius picks out the old alpha, standing with his delta—his mate—a short distance from Marius' grandfather. Hastily averting his eyes before they can meet his grandfather's, Marius decides to focus on the ground at his feet, thus keeping himself from accidentally looking somewhere he shouldn't.
Armand allows a few minutes to tick by, during which several of the other alphas meet and exchange hushed words, though no one comes to speak to Enjolras. Enjolras and Courfeyrac don't seem to notice, Courfeyrac chattering happily about classes while Enjolras seems to watch the room, though his gaze has a distant, haunting quality to it that makes Marius wonder how much he's seeing.
Then Armand stands, moving to the circular table, and smiles as he scans the room. "Since we're all here, I believe it's time we were started, yes?"
A soft murmur of acquiescence runs through the room, and the remaining eight alphas move to the table, their pack-mates in tow. Not certain what else to do, Marius stays by Enjolras and Courfeyrac, taking up a position on Enjolras' left as Enjolras settles into the chair. Courfeyrac stands at Enjolras' right side, smiling at several of the other wolves—Geroux, Paquet, Armand's mate Amadeo. His smile only fades slightly when it slides across Bellamy and Yves, situated a third of the way around the table from them.
There is no head of the table to be claimed, at least. There is nothing to dictate one section of the table as higher than another, and Marius studies the alphas and their seconds—Geroux to his left, the female staring hard at Bellamy while Geroux's second wolf stands awkwardly elbow-to-elbow with Marius; Paquet next to Geroux, his gamma by his side; then Areli, Armand, Gillenmorand, all with their betas; and finally Bellamy with Yves, Badeau with his gamma, and Cavey with his beta. Only Geroux's second—his beta, by smell—seems perturbed by Marius' presence, staring hard at him, lips pulled back from the male's teeth in a not-quite-threat.
"Enjolras." Armand's expression is carefully neutral. "You appear to have brought an extra wolf to these proceedings beyond the allotted one."
"I have, and I ask forgiveness of any who felt offended or threatened by this, though Marius is not mine." An almost-smile touches Enjolras' lips, fading away immediately, and Marius frowns as he tries to work out what might have entertained Enjolras. "He claims no pack allegiances. He does, however, have information about one of the topics we will be covering today, information that I think the Conclave would do well to hear."
"He is a trespasser and a spy, and mine by rights to do with as I please." Bellamy speaks calmly, though he stands, giving himself the appearance of greater height and dominance. "Enjolras stole the trespasser from me last night, using humans, in clear violation of Pack law."
A low, thrumming growl runs through the room, and Marius can't tell who started it and who continues it, but all of the eyes staring at him now seem threatening.
"A heavy accusation, Bellamy." Armand looks between the two alphas. "Do you have proof for these claims?"
"Two-thirds of my proof stands at Enjolras' side. The rest is back at my den, in the form of one more trespasser—Enojlras' lambda." Bellamy spits out the rank as though it were a curse, the twist of his lips emphasizing how strange it is to have such a rank, how abnormal Enjolras' pack is, and Marius forgets how to breathe as hostile alphas glare at him.
Enjolras doesn't seem bothered by the antipathy, though, and as Marius focuses on him, borrows a bit of that calm, he realizes that not everyone is glaring at him. Geroux and Paquet seem more concerned than angry, their frowns expressions of distress but not hatred; Areli seems almost bored with the proceedings; Gillenormand is studying Marius with a faintly disapproving stare, but it's a stare he's weathered many times before, as a pup, and it holds no malice for him. Turning to face Bellamy, not standing, Enjolras raises his chin slightly and meets the other alpha's eyes for a count of five.
Bellamy doesn't look away, though his face gets steadily redder, his breathing more ragged, and Marius begins to wonder if the female alpha would dare to simply leap across the table at them.
Then Enjolras turns his eyes away, back to Armand. "Bellamy has one of my wolves, who did indeed trespass. He was lured into trespassing through means that I think all on the Conclave will find to be a violation of Pack law in spirit if not in letter, and I thus request that the Conclave order him returned to me, with no further harm done."
Armand doesn't give away his emotions, his expression carefully blank as he looks between Enjolras and Bellamy. If Marius hadn't seen him in Enjolras' den yesterday, he wouldn't be certain of Armand's loyalties. "I think, given the magnitude of this matter, that it would be best if we heard the tale in its entirety. Bellamy, would you care to begin?"
"It's a simple matter." Bellamy straightens from a half-crouch, and Marius realizes with a start that Bellamy had been trying to decide whether to sit again or not following his failed staring contest with Enjolras. "Last week my delta found traces of Marius' scent on our land. We pursued the matter, and found that he had trespassed not once but several times. By perusing neutral territory and trails, we were able to determine that ours wasn't the only pack's territory that he had disrespected. He also trespassed in Geroux's territory repeatedly."
All eyes turn to Geroux, who inclines his head, the female scowling at Marius. "It's true. He's trespassed in my territory repeatedly."
Not for the first time Marius begins to worry that Enjolras will simply find it easier to abandon him rather than to defend him.
"Knowing his proclivities—and suspecting who ordered his activities…" Bellamy pauses, his gaze traveling up and down Enjolras in clear suggestion. "My pack and I were on high alert. When next he trespassed, we were ready. We captured him."
"Do you deny trespassing, stray?" Armand's voice isn't unkind as he studies Marius, and for one disconcerting moment Marius remembers last night, this strange old alpha chatting amicably with Cosette and her father.
"I don't." Marius' voice is quiet, but the acoustics of the room are good enough that he's certain all the alphas hear.
A general murmur of displeasure and disapproval comes from the gathered wolves, and Marius distinctly hears an idiot pup in his grandfather's voice, an admonition that is somehow bizarrely comforting, sounding as it does of home.
Armand waits for the murmurs to fade away. His expression is harder, now. "Do you have a reason to give for your trespasses?"
"Not one that those gathered will accept as worthy." Marius stubbornly keeps his head and his eyes up, scanning the alphas' foreheads rather than risking meeting their eyes and having his instinct to submit overwhelm him. "I was a stray for the winter, having had a… falling-out with my grandfather's pack. If you wish more details on that, I'm sure he can provide them."
Gillenormand scowls, leaning toward Marius. "Our pack business has no bearing on this matter."
"No. It doesn't." Anger gives Marius courage as he remembers the argument, his grandfather's harsh dismissal of both his father and the possibility of ever finding humans worthy of respect ringing in his ears. "It was a cold winter, though, and I found no packs willing to tolerate my presence. When I was hungry and without shelter, two humans came to my aid."
"You could have come home, Marius." Gillenmorand's voice is forceful, and his fingers slap once against the table. "All you had to do was apologize and ask for admittance to the pack again, and you could have come home."
"There was nothing I felt it proper to apologize for." Marius keeps his voice cool, especially as a high-pitched warning whine from Courfeyrac tells him that he needs to be careful in his words. "I felt it would be bad for your pack if I were to return home and our… disagreements to continue to crop up. The humans offered an alternative. We developed a friendship over the course of the winter. Their house is in Geroux's territory; the church they attend is in Bellamy's. It was because of this friendship that I trespassed."
"Why didn't you come to me and discuss your options, pup?" Geroux's voice is a rough growl.
Resisting the urge to bristle at the insult inherent in calling him pup still, Marius inclines his head to the female alpha. "I had been driven from many territories by the time I came to be in yours. My life would be threatened again shortly while I was on neutral territory, by some of Bellamy's wolves. I had reason to fear our people, particularly alphas. I believe now that I acted rashly, keeping my meetings with the humans hidden from all for fear that they would be stopped and I would be injured. Were I to have a chance to do things over, I would act differently, having more faith in Enjolras, yourself, and our people to act compassionately."
"The reasons that he trespassed don't matter." Bellamy's voice cuts across any additional comments that might have been made. "Not that he's given good reason. He is a member of the Pack; he knows Pack law, I'm certain. Gillenormand would never fail to teach his pups proper behavior."
"He knows the laws." The look Gillenormand turns on Bellamy is part disgust, part disgruntlement. "And we know you've a right to deal with trespassing strays. How does that relate to Enjolras' wolves?"
"Do you really believe his story about human friends?" The sneer on Bellamy's face matches the sneer in his voice as he stares around the table. Leaning forward, palms on the table, he shakes his head. "The stray has been living on Enjolras' land for well over a month now, yet he isn't part of Enjolras' pack yet. Why do you all suppose that is?"
"I'm confused." Courfeyrac raises his hand. "Because earlier you seemed to be implying our pack was too large, but now you're saying it's not large enough and we need to add Marius. Which is it, again, that you believe?"
"I believe that your pack has been using Marius as a spy against our packs and as an agent among the humans to aid in your rabble-rousing." Bellamy's smile is chilly. "An assertion that I would say is backed by your own trespassing, gamma. Not six hours after I captured Marius, fairly and well within my rights, Courfeyrac and Grantaire trespassed on my territory. If the stray isn't a part of your pack, isn't an agent of yours, then why were you so desperate to get him back?"
"Because I am a strong believer in characteristics such as compassion and camaraderie. Because someone doesn't have to be a member of my pack to have my sympathy and, if I can give it, my assistance." Courfeyrac's hands move to his throat, begin untying his cravat and loosening his shirt so that he can part the fabric to show the silver burns encircling his throat. "And because I didn't know that Marius screaming on the ground with a silver collar around his throat was a trap designed to trick me into trespassing. Or do you normally have silver collars on hand to use on strays, Bellamy?"
The uproar in the room is louder than anything Marius would have predicted. Before he can draw a breath all the alphas in the room are standing, their seconds at their backs, and a flood of words is rushing through the air over an undercurrent of growls and low whines.
Silver.
Moon-blood.
Death.
Torture.
Human-weapon.
Traitor.
The last is Gillenormand's word, a low, fierce exclamation, and it stops Marius' retreat from the table as he turns to his grandfather in surprise.
Gillenormand is on his feet, as are all the alphas, and his eyes are fixed on a white-faced Bellamy. His voice when he speaks again is cold as frost, and it slowly overpowers the mutterings of the other alphas and their wolves. "You knowingly used silver against other wolves, Bellamy? You knowingly took up a weapon that has been used to identify and slaughter our people, turned to the metal that is the tears of our Lady made poison to our flesh, and used it against other wolves?"
To his credit Bellamy doesn't back down, doesn't lower his head. "By Pack law Marius was mine to do with as I please, to kill or to torture or to release. Silver was the only way I could ensure that any connection he had to Enjolras wouldn't be functional—ask Enjolras if he can still communicate with his wolves when they're on my territory, he'll confirm it."
"I can." Enjolras is the only alpha still seated, and he studies Bellamy with a calm, certain gaze. "But Marius isn't mine. Any one of you can tell that by smelling him. I could have talked to Courfeyrac and Grantaire, if you hadn't bound their magic in silver, but not to him."
"Meaning if you were concerned about Enjolras, you were hunting prey other than Marius in the first place." Courfeyrac's lips pull back in a harsh snarl. "You captured Marius and tortured him in order to coerce me into trespassing. That's why you sent the human child with a note telling me to come near the border, so that I'd see what you were doing. I didn't understand it, of course. I just knew that Marius was injured, and not knowing about the silver I thought there was a danger of his Changing. Do you think he might have tried anyway, even with the silver on him? Do you think any humans would have seen him?"
"Silver stops the Change." Bellamy's eyes scan the table, desperate, hungry, and then settle on Badeau, who is standing with a contemplative expression on his face. "There was no danger of Marius Changing. I was exercising my rights as alpha of my territory—rights that Enjolras and his pack would see stripped from me."
"Would you really stand here and defend your right to torture strays with silver? Young strays, strays with ties to packs in this area…" Enjolras' gaze finds Gillenormand's for a few seconds before returning to Bellamy. "And your right to trick other wolves into trespassing so that you might torture them, as well?"
"Where is his proof that I lured him onto my territory?" A huff of disdain slides from Bellamy's lips as Badeau and Cavey both settle down, the two looking far too comfortable with all that Bellamy is saying. "Where is this human boy I supposedly used? He admits happily to being friends with and using humans; I admit no such thing."
"You want us to bring a human child here, to the Conclave?" Courfeyrac's brows rise as he stares around at the gathered wolves. "Would you like us to announce our existence to the university board, as well? Perhaps present ourselves to the king as a present, a special fighting force that he can have?"
Bellamy's face begins to redden again.
Enjolras lays a hand on Courfeyrac's arm, silencing him. "I swear to all here that I had nothing to do with the humans that freed Marius. They were the friends who Marius was supposed to meet. Given the injuries that Marius sustained—a deep and bleeding leg wound that the collar kept from healing—I'm not surprised they were able to track him."
Snarling, Bellamy shoves his chair away from the table. "This entire show is a farce. Marius, Courfeyrac, and Grantaire are trespassers. Pack law is clear on the matter of trespassers—any who trespass are giving themselves over to the justice of the alpha of the land they travel on. My justice. The three of them belong to me now, to do with as I please."
Paquet is the one who responds, his voice soft, quieter than Marius expected. "Do you have silver burns as well, Marius?"
Not trusting his voice, Marius simply nods.
"May we see these injuries, Enjolras?" Areli's voice is also quiet, respectful, any hint of boredom wiped from his face as he watches Bellamy with a hawk-like intensity. "I would confirm with my own eyes and nose what they are."
Enjolras pauses, seeming to consider the words, though he had warned Marius that this would likely be requested. "Will Marius suffice as proof of their torture and the methods employed? You can also examine the wound that led the humans to Bellamy's prison."
As soon as wolves begin nodding in acceptance, Marius undoes his own clothes, trying not to touch the burned patches of skin on his neck, trying not to shudder as he remembers the pain of the collar punishing him for every move that he made. Squaring his shoulders, he begins a circuit of the room.
Geroux's hands are gentle on his throat, the female alpha's sniff at his neck perfunctory. Paquet and Areli are less gentle but more thorough, turning Marius this way and that, their fingers probing at the wounds, their noses pressed almost against his throat, and it takes an effort on Marius' part not to flinch away from alphas so close to his jugular.
He owes Enjolras this, though. He owes Courfeyrac and Grantaire this and so much more.
Gillenormand's hands are gentle on him, the old alpha's face anguished as he clasps both of Marius' shoulders. "You should have come home, pup."
Marius studies his feet. "It isn't home anymore, sir."
Without another word Gillenormand passes him to Armand, who gestures for his delta to examine Marius. The female wolf does so, his fingertips hovering over but not pressing on the injuries, and then hands him to Badeau.
Badeau glances up at him from his seated position and then waves a hand dismissively. "I've no need to examine him, because it doesn't matter. What Bellamy says is true. This Conclave is to settle disputes about Pack law and prevent intrapack aggression, not to police what alphas do in their own territory. If he wants to use silver, it's his business."
After a second's hesitation and a glance between Bellamy and Badeau, Cavey shrugs and waves Marius away, as well. "Agreed. It's well known that some alphas rule with a firm hand while others are… laxer in their discipline."
Geroux's lips twitch, but he doesn't deign to growl at the barely-veiled barb.
"There is no Pack law saying you can use silver against other wolves." Paquet hisses out the words, his hands clenched on the table.
"There's no law saying you can't." Badeau crosses his arms over his chest, appearing completely unconcerned. "And I don't think we've a right to make one, especially not for some human-loving rebel scum's benefit."
"You'd argue for us to torture our own kind?" Paquet seems honestly shocked, his eyes wide as they flick from Bellamy to Badeau.
"Not often. Not always. But there are some…" A dismissive flick of his eyes toward Enjolras emphasizes Badeau's point—rather needlessly, Marius thinks. "A few cases where perhaps silver needs to be used, to protect an alpha's rights."
"I have done nothing to threaten any of your rights." Enjolras meets Badeau's eyes evenly, his voice still calm, though it's the calm of an impending storm, the barely-audible rumble of thunder. "Even now, even when Bellamy has stolen and tortured my wolves, I haven't acted against him. I've presented facts to the Conclave, and I trust that you will all act honorably to see that justice is done—true justice, not a farce to stroke the egos of the frightened. Justice and precedent that we can offer to our children with our heads held high—to your children, Badeau. Or are you so certain that none of your pack's pups will ever be strays, ever trespass, ever be in need of mercy and compassion?"
"Mercy is a human word—a human concept." Badeau shrugs. "Packs accept strays who might become pack—young strays, healthy strays, normal strays. What other alphas do with the abnormal ones isn't my concern, including if they're from my pack."
Marius stares at the other wolf, horror tasting bitter in his throat. He knows that Badeau has young pups—every wolf knows that Badeau's pack has pups who will be entering their second year shortly, the new alpha and his pack absurdly proud of them, as though all packs didn't usually welcome pups every five or six years. Would he truly not care if something happened to those pups?
Armand finally speaks again, his tone contemplative. "It seems there are several different issues at stake here. One is whether it should be permissible or not for wolves to use silver against each other in Paris. Shall we vote on that first, alphas?"
"Illegal." Paquet speaks immediately and decisively. "We're better than that. We don't need to stoop to the humans' level in some things."
"Legal." Badeau smiles. "For reasons already stated."
"Illegal." Geroux straightens as he speaks. "We don't condone torture."
"Legal." Bellamy's voice is firm.
Armand raises his hand. "As the interested parties in this case, I think Enjolras and Bellamy should both be exempted from the vote."
"Agreed." Enjolras turns to Bellamy.
After a hesitation during which Bellamy glances around the table—apparently counting, if Marius is able to read lips at all—Bellamy gives a reluctant nod. "Agreed."
Armand nods. "Which puts the vote back at two for making it illegal, one against."
"Illegal." Gillenormand's teeth flash. "We've never needed to use silver to keep control of our packs and strays before; I see no reason to stoop to that level now."
Areli relaxes back into his seat as Gillenormand speaks. "Illegal."
"Legal." There's a bitter, disappointed note to Cavey's voice as he speaks.
"Illegal. As Gillenormand says, we are better than that." Armand's tone finally has some inflection to it, a mild, parental disapproval that Marius can see annoys Bellamy more than anything Geroux, Paquet or Areli said. "Which puts the vote at five against legality, two for. From this day forth, no wolf shall use silver against another wolf in Paris, and no alpha shall tolerate such an offense. I swear to uphold this ruling by the Lady and the Night."
"By the Lady and the Night, so be it." Areli whispers the words, followed by Paquet, Geroux, Enjolras, and the rest, counterclockwise around the table, one at a time. Only Bellamy looks nervous as the words pass his lips, strain obvious around his eyes. Cavey looks sullen; Badeau looks bored, as though the oath means nothing to him.
"So, one matter taken care of." Armand glances around the table. "Which leaves the matter of the stray and of Enjolras' two wolves. Should Bellamy be given any of them?"
Gillenormand stands. "Bellamy had Marius as his prisoner and enacted punishment as he saw fit—punishment that this Conclave has just deemed worse than death. Since Marius is no longer trespassing—and will, I'm sure, be very meticulous about his observance of pack boundaries in the future—I move that he should be rescinded into the care of another alpha."
"Yours, I suppose?" The bitterness in Bellamy's voice is unmistakable.
"Why not?" Badeau raises his hands palms-up in an unconcerned gesture. "The little whelp means nothing to you so long as he stays off your territory, right?"
Nodding reluctantly, Bellamy draws a deep breath. "I suppose. If you want him, Gillenormand, I'll be happy to return him to you."
"But he's not in your care." Courfeyrac speaks calmly, his arms crossed over his chest. "If he's already been punished for his crime, shouldn't he be free to go with any alpha who will accept him?"
"You still want him?" Areli's shock shows clearly on his face. "After he started all this?"
"I want him to have a choice." Speaking softly, forcing silence if the other alphas wish to hear him, Enjolras turns to Marius. "What would you like, Marius? Where would you wish to go?"
It's more of a defense than Marius had any right to hope for, and he lowers his head, submissive, awed by the pack's generosity. "I want to stay in Enjolras' territory, if he'll accept me. I owe him a debt, and I'd like to find a way to repay it."
Armand considers Marius, then shifts his attention to Enjolras. "Would you accept him?"
"Yes."
No hesitation, and Marius wishes he could disappear, could undo the last few days, could find some way to repay what's being offered him here.
"I've no problem with the stray staying with Enjolras." Geroux pauses. "Provided that Enjolras agrees to take responsibility for him in the future as though he were a part of Enjolras' pack, whether or not he binds him into their magic."
Courfeyrac's hand falls on Enjolras' shoulder, and for a moment the two of them are tense, their eyes distant.
Then Enjolras turns to Marius. "Agreed. Would you still want to stay with us knowing this, Marius?"
Knowing that his actions will officially reflect on Enjolras and his pack, that any breaking of Pack law—and there is so much he's done that these wolves don't know about, everything with Cosette is so wrong in their view, though it feels so right to him—will be seen by the Conclave as Enjolras breaking Pack law.
He will have to tell them. Though it makes him sick, the thought of giving information that could hurt Cosette to others, he will have to tell them.
If they react badly, he will have to run, taking Cosette with him if she will go.
But if they accept it, accept her…
It's too much to hope for, and he doesn't allow the thought to continue. Lowering his head, exposing his neck, he submits to Enjolras. "I am honored by your hospitality and trust, and will do everything I can to deserve it."
"Assuming this Conclave allows it." Badeau studies his fingers as he speaks. "Because we could always vote to return you to Bellamy for punishment, stray. Enjolras isn't the one deciding things here, correct?"
"Given the complexity of the issue, I propose we break it into two votes." Armand slips his words in deftly behind Badeau. "Should Marius be returned—"
"I don't want him." Bellamy tries to sound unconcerned, but there's a sullen undercurrent to his scent and his eyes. "Let the rest of you fight over the pup, if he's that important."
Marius bites back a retort to the word pup. Enjolras isn't that much older than him, and Enjolras is an alpha. Would Bellamy dismiss Enjolras so readily out of hand?
The knowledge that Enjolras is undoubtedly called much worse things helps to cool Marius' anger as he keeps any comments locked behind his teeth.
"In that case, I would say we let Marius go where he will." Armand turns to Gillenormand. "It has never been an alpha's place to force wolves into his pack. To do such a thing would be a strain on the pack, on the alpha, and most likely catastrophic to the wolf being forced into submission. It would be an alpha battle, old friend, but one with no end in sight and with no hope of reprieve for the submissive. How long do you think a mind and soul could last in those conditions?"
Sinking down slowly into his seat, his expression suddenly hollow, his eyes lost, Gillenormand inclines his head, studying the table before him. "Let Marius go where he will. It doesn't concern me."
Marius waits for someone else to protest, to demand he account for himself, for Cosette, for everything that has happened so far. To demand recompense, to insist that he return home, to wrest control of his life away from him, but no one speaks.
Is that it? Is the discussion about him finished, then, just like that, leaving him free to return with Enjolras and Courfeyrac to their territory?
Gillenormand raises his head, slowly, looking his age for the first time since Marius can remember. "What was the second issue you wished to vote on, Armand?"
Armand glances around the table. "I propose that all strays who are allowed to stay on an alpha's territory for more than a week be considered part of that alpha's pack in the future."
Badeau straightens, looking interested; Bellamy's head whips up, surprise replacing the sullen frustration in his scent.
Why is Armand doing this? Enjolras is the only alpha that Marius knows who would even consider allowing strays to stay unchallenged in his territory for long periods of time. Are they not working together? Is Armand's calm and seeming indifference to Enjolras here more than just a façade?
Geroux stirs uneasily in his seat. "Why make such a broad law when it's one case we're talking about?"
"Because it's one case now, but where there's one there will be others. Best to have a precedent so everyone knows where they stand." Armand's gaze travels lazily from Enjolras to Geroux and back. "Bellamy's fear was that a stray was being used as an adjunct member to a pack. To combat that fear, we'll make it clear when strays are considered to be associated with a pack and when they're not."
"Alphas aren't omniscient." Enjolras' eyes are narrowed as he studies the older alpha. "Passing a law like this won't just make it harder on strays, it will require us all to be hyper-vigilant about our territories."
"As most are—as all should be, at least until these dangerous times have passed." Armand's lips turn up in the faintest smile. "Now, is there a second to object to the vote, or shall we proceed? If there are no other objections, obviously I vote to pass my own resolution."
Gillenormand smiles slightly as he passes the resolution, giving Armand a relieved look; Areli and Paquet pass the resolution, looking uneasily between Enjolras and Armand; Geroux hesitates, and then gives a forceful negation, as does Enjolras. Bellamy, Cavey, and Badeau eagerly pass it.
"Good." Leaning back in his chair, Armand rests his hands in his lap, fingers clasped loosely. "That just brings us to the question of the disposal of Courfeyrac and Grantaire, I believe."
"They're mine." Bellamy snaps out the demand. "They trespassed. Even if you want to give Courfeyrac his freedom, there's no way you could force me to return Grantaire without invalidating Pack law."
For a long moment Armand studies his hands. Then he lifts his eyes. "Courfeyrac."
"Sir?" Courfeyrac inclines his head in respect.
"Tell us again why you trespassed, and why you believed the Conclave would exempt you from punishment."
"Marius was hurt—screaming, clawing at his neck." Courfeyrac's hand rises to his own neck, to the silver-burns still showing starkly. "I didn't know that it was silver. I just knew that he was injured, and one of the things an injured wolf might do is Change. Since I didn't see Bellamy there, I thought it my duty to protect both Marius and our secrets."
Armand nods slowly. "Making this not a question of abandoning Pack law, but of deciding which takes precedent: trespassing, or protecting our secrets from the humans."
"No." Bellamy's face is white as he leaps to his feet again. "Trespassers belong to the alpha who captures them."
"Trespassers, yes, but you lured these wolves onto your territory. You used tricks that a human would use, baiting a trap with poison." Armand's tone mixes derision and dismissal. "Don't make us vote more on your actions, Bellamy. Simply be glad there was no motion to enact punishment for the use of silver."
"There was no law against it."
"Because there shouldn't need to be." Armand snaps out the words. "Now, to the matter at hand. Does the possibility of exposure to humans trump the laws of trespassing?"
"Yes." Paquet is the first to respond. "The most important thing—one of the reasons we have Pack law—is keeping us safe from the humans. Preventing someone from Changing in public transcends any other law."
Shaking his head, Cavey stands. "I disagree. Trust an alpha to control his territory—in this case, Bellamy was well aware of what was going on. There was no need for trespass. Ordering laws in importance will increase the likelihood of someone breaking them."
"No." Geroux doesn't stand, looking thoughtfully between the two wolves. "Enjolras is right. Alphas aren't omniscient. How long were you trespassing before you were caught, Marius?"
Shifting uncomfortably, Marius allows his eyes to drift down to the floor again. "Over a month."
"Our protection comes first." Geroux nods decisively. "Trespassing if another wolf seems to be in danger and there doesn't seem to be a member of that territory's pack present should be allowed, to prevent a situation where a wolf Changes out of desperation and gives us away."
"Agreed." Areli looks oddly relieved—perhaps at not having to vote for or against Enjolras or Bellamy, instead having to prioritize safety or territory. "Trespassing if there's any danger of another wolf Changing and, as Geroux says, if the pack in charge of the territory doesn't seem to be present should be acceptable for the good of all the Pack."
"Disagreed." Badeau doesn't stand with Cavey and Bellamy, instead staying lounged in his chair. "Trust alphas to do their jobs and trust wolves to know their place. The first thing all pups learn is not to Change in front of humans."
Marius can think of several things he learned before that, actually—how to Change at will and not at the whim of the moon being one; the smell of the pack's zeta that symbolized safety; the smell of Gillenormand, alpha and lord; the words for the pack's ranking. But yes, not Changing in front of humans had definitely been one of their first lessons.
Studying Marius, Gillenormand shakes his head. "I can't, in good conscience, give away part of an alpha's power. Even if another wolf seems to be in trouble, trespassing is trespassing."
"Yes." Bellamy hisses the words, his eyes bright as they stare at Enjolras. "Trespassing makes him mine."
"You all know what my vote will be." Enjolras doesn't look at any of the other alphas, instead staying focused on Armand. "The good of the Pack above the rights of any alpha. Trespassing should be looked at on a case-by-case basis, not simply given into the hands of blind vengeance."
"Vengeance, not justice." Armand turns to Bellamy. "And that is what this was about, wasn't it? Vengeance for perceived slights, for invisible, intangible threats. A trick to turn the rest of the alphas of Paris to your bidding. We can be better than that. We have been better than that—the Lady created us to be better than that. Give Enjolras back his wolf, and let all here learn from the mistakes that you've made."
Bellamy closes his eyes, his lips pressed tight together, his breathing fast but even.
Marius turns to Courfeyrac, a grin slowly starting to spread across his face, because they've won. Somehow, through politics that Marius still isn't certain he can follow, they've won Grantaire back, without bloodshed and civil war.
Then Enjolras doubles over, a choked whine sliding into a rumbling growl deep in his throat, and Marius finds himself taking a hasty step back without any conscious thought.
He had been worried about Bellamy going over the table, coming for him.
It hadn't occurred to him that he is standing by the strongest alpha in the room, or that something might happen to send Enjolras leaping for another alpha's throat, and now that the thought's occurred to him it's a much more frightening possibility.
XXX
Grantaire is going to die.
He's absolutely certain of that, in part because Sean keeps reminding him of the fact every few minutes.
The collars are off. They've been off for about an hour and a half now, since Bellamy left for the alpha conclave. It means that Grantaire can think again, vaguely, though his throat still burns, his arms ache where the bites from yesterday are undoubtedly festering under their bandages, and all of his muscles are cramped from being tied in the same position for too long.
None of that matters, though, because as the effects of the silver slowly wear off he can feel his pack. He can feel Enjolras.
It's not a very strong connection. He can't make out any words from Enjolras, and he's not sure if that's a function of how far away he is from Enjolras or the lingering effects of the silver or his own failings as a wolf. He doesn't really care, because no matter what Sean tells him, he can feel Enjolras' calm, certain presence somewhere out there in the world, and that's all he needs.
"Soon." Sean prowls from one end of the room to the other, in and out of Grantaire's view.
Grantaire doesn't deign to lift or move his head to watch Sean. It doesn't matter where Sean is. With Grantaire tied with his hands behind his back, his ankles together, and his wrists tied to his ankles, there's nothing he can do to resist when Sean finally gives in to bloodlust and kills him.
"Just have to wait for the right moment." Sean is hunched over when he crosses back into Grantaire's view, hanging on to his human form by a thread, and Grantaire draws a deep breath.
Had he just thought that he wasn't afraid—that he wasn't capable of being afraid anymore? Ah, how wrong he was, because this frightens him, seeing this wolf at the edge of true madness. He's seen it before, in strays as they became older and more desperate, having gone too long without safety, without hope, without purpose. The careful balance of wolf and man that the Lady gave them wore away, leaving something vicious and incredibly dangerous behind.
Why should that be happening here, though, to a wolf that's a member of a well-established pack? What kind of strain has this pack been under? Or is this something else, something related to Sean alone?
"They must be close to making a decision, and then you die, one way or another." Sean paces back across Grantaire's vision, rubbing at his arms, his muscles twitching with a not-quite-Change. "Bellamy will get rid of Enjolras, and everything will go back to the way it was. Monet will come home. Alphas will leave each other alone. Everything will be better. Everything—"
Grantaire draws a sharp breath as a deep sense of relief floods into him from Enjolras.
Sean whines, an angry, frustrated rake of noise across Grantaire's ears, and falls forward, the Change already twisting his body from human to wolf.
Closing his eyes, Grantaire focuses on that tenuous connection to Enjolras, trying to send acceptance rather than his terror across their bond.
This isn't how he wanted to die, torn apart by a half-mad wolf far from his pack.
He'd gotten to the point where he never thought he would have a pack, though, so if he's to die for Enjolras and his pack, so be it.
XXX
Save him!
The command slams across his bond to Enjolras, and Combeferre barely resists the urge to simply dart forward, destroying everyone and everything that gets between him and the fulfillment of his alpha's commands.
He will be glad when this is done, not just because it will mean their pack is reunited and Enjolras won't be constantly tied up by Pack in-fighting but because he will get a chance to be human again, to attend classes, to separate himself from these instincts that are becoming more and more overwhelming as stress increases.
He is not an extension of Enjolras' will. He is separate, has his own views and wishes and moral leanings, and he will remember that, no matter what his instincts cry.
At the moment, though, he agrees with Enjolras, heart and soul.
He signals to Feuilly, who is crouched with Monet and Bahorel across the street, and they both lead their teams forward, flanking Bellamy's pack den as they had discussed, heading for both the front and back entrance.
They knew where Bellamy's pack kept their den. All the alphas knew where the others could be found, in order to allow for swift and certain communication when it was necessary. Enjolras had felt certain that Bellamy, threatened and afraid, would have his pack retreat with Grantaire back to their den, and the scent trails had proven him right. Not trusting Bellamy or the Conclave, Enjolras had insisted that the pack be in position to help Grantaire if it became necessary.
As a faint echo of pain, the feel of teeth rending through his leg, slides along his bond to Enjolras, Combeferre is glad that they took the risk of trespassing, even if it's going to create more difficulties for Enjolras at the Conclave.
Grantaire is theirs, and if they can keep him from harm then Combeferre will happily take the risk.
XXX
Grantaire screams as Sean's wolf form launches at him. He can't help it. He had thought he was prepared to die—prepared to be murdered—but now that the moment's come he wants to do everything he can to prevent it.
All he can do, unfortunately, is flail around enough to put his leg in the space between Sean and his throat. Sean's teeth sink eagerly into his leg, Sean's claws sliding and catching on Grantaire's shirt and trousers, and Grantaire howls his terror and pain.
It won't help. The only ones who could hear him are all members of Bellamy's pack, and if Sean is trying to kill him then Bellamy undoubtedly ordered it. None of the rest will deign to interfere.
He kicks, whipping his body around as much as he can, and Sean's teeth rip free of his leg.
That's even more terrifying, because it means that Sean is lunging at him again, slavering white teeth red tongue danger danger, and he needs to get away he needs—
The door to the room explodes inward, and Grantaire stops howling as confusion overrides terror. He knows that red wolf, knows the scents rolling off of him in comforting waves, but there's no way that Feuilly is here, no possible reason for Enjolras to risk sending the pack into another's territory, not for him.
Then others begin piling through the door, lithe dark brown Monet in wolf form, green-eyed Bahorel grinning far more than he should be, and Sean turns away from Grantaire with a snarl. Feuilly and Monet immediately dive toward him, flanking him, driving him away from Grantaire.
"Don't kill him!" Combeferre's voice drags Grantaire's gaze back to the door. "Don't kill any of them. We're taking Grantaire, and we're leaving."
"Home?" Grantaire's barely able to choke out the word, his throat too sore and swollen. "Combeferre?"
"Yes." Combeferre kneels down by him, resting a hand on his arm, and Grantaire closes his eyes, shivers running up and down his body.
"Grantaire? Night's blood, what did they do to him?" Joly's voice causes Grantaire to open his eyes again. Combeferre has been joined by Joly, and lifting his head allows Grantaire to see Musichetta standing in the doorway, guarding the room.
Tugging at the ropes binding Grantaire, Combeferre frowns and pulls a small knife. "They did what we expected. They bound him in silver, and just like with Courfeyrac this is the result. We need to get him home and treated."
A few quick flicks of Combeferre's knife, and Grantaire's limbs are suddenly free. He tries to clamber to his feet and freezes, whimpers colliding in his throat as pain explodes through his shoulders and thighs.
"Here." Joly pulls him out of his pained curl and into a seated position before shoving his shoulder under Grantaire's. "Let's get you on your feet."
He almost passes out as Joly hauls him upright. The world narrows down again, black at the edges, and the pain fades back as he loses all feeling in his hands and feet. Time seems to give a little half-skip, and when he can focus again Musichetta is supporting him on his other side and Combeferre is calling Feuilly and Monet away from a shuddering Sean while Bahorel threatens wolves in the hallway.
Walking hurts.
Trying to talk hurts.
But his pack is here. His pack is supporting him.
Allowing his head to hang forward on his neck, focusing all of his attention on moving as the others urge him to, Grantaire trusts his pack to protect him.
The last thing he hears as they slip out of Bellamy's den, a tight cluster of five human-form and two wolf-form, is Sean howling his daughter's name.
