Chapter warning: blood

Alfred sighed contently as he woke, oddly warm. Strange, since the fire should have gone out during the night, so he should be waking into freezing cold making him scramble to restart the flames. His bed also seems... softer, and is moving?

He slowly opens his eyes and immediately freezes. He sleeping on Arthur, he sleeping on the gods damn wolf!

As carefully as he can, like his life depends on it —which it might just— he slides away, at least enough to make it not seem as if he was just sleeping on the other. Though doing so returns him to the cold which he so hates, he's used to it.

Arthur stirs slightly, but thankfully, doesn't wake. Al sighs in relief and quietly turns to start up the fire again. As he works his mind wanders.

If Arthur continues to insist on eating so much each day, he'll only last about another week before his stores are completely emptied. That thought alone is terrifying, he's not had a completely empty pantry since he first was sent here, he's always been careful to have at least one barrel full at all times.

If he doesn't get more food, then Arthur is sure to be done with it all and kill him. But there's no way he can catch enough in his traps, even in what passes for summer here he'd never kill that much. And now that winter is setting in strong, his chances of success are basically zero, and that's even if he could go out and hunt. Something he has no hope of achieving given he'd freeze to death if he spent too long out there.

So hunting is out of the question. His only hope would be to buy enough, but he doubts he could afford that... So no hunting and buying is limited... he's so dead...

Maybe he could convince Arthur to slow down, or at least spare him...

He sighs knowing neither are very likely but it's his only option if he wants to keep breathing. Turning, he regards the wolf that has a hold over his life now.

Sleeping, he looks almost peaceful, perhaps even nice. Al frowns at the beast, wondering about him, this close, he begins to notice things that he hadn't from afar. His fur, which he had thought to be all white, actually has very light blonde markings. So light in colour, he can only just make them out sitting right next to him. The markings, found across his shoulders and down his face, fade seamlessly into the white, the black of his nose and the pads of his paws standing out. And Al knows he's strong too, muscles hidden beneath his thick coat, claws sharp and deadly. Plus, he's one of the few beasts of the world that are classed as Magia Bestiam. Magia are rare, powerful, and not to be messed with, yet here he is, making nice with one hoping it'll spare his life in the long run.

He stares at the wolfs face, wondering why he doesn't feel like he should be afraid of him, why he seems to just know that somehow, it'll work out. He blinks as his eyes catch on a scar, just below Arthur's right eye, running down the side of his face. Stupidly, he let's his curiosity get the better of him and scoots closer. The scar is not alone, as he hovers inches above Arthur's face he can see another two also follow the line of the first. Using his hand, Al gently traces the scars with his fingers, eye to jaw.

It's here, with his right arm outstretched, three fingers on the wolfs face that he realises what a dumb move he's made. Arthur, startled awake by the contact, snaps at him, catching Al's hand up to his wrist in his mouth and biting down, hard.

"Aaaarrrrggghhh!" He cries out in agony, nerves screaming in pain, as he feels teeth sink down into his arm, tearing his flesh and spilling his blood.

Arthur stares down at him, a rage in his eyes that truly terrifies Alfred, before he seems to recognise who's arm it is that he's currently trying to rip off, releasing him. He sits up as Al yanks his arm back, cradling his shredded wrist and hand to his chest. He tries to calm his racing heart as he looks around desperately. He's losing a hell of a lot of blood, and he doesn't even want to look at the mangled mess he's holding, but he needs to fix it and fast, if he doesn't want to bleed out. But he doesn't have any bandages, having used the last of them before on Arthur. He's starting to feel light headed as he grabs for his discarded shirt, hurriedly wrapping it around his bleeding arm, blood completely soaking it in seconds. The shirt is red, his chest, his other hand, the bed skins and furs, Arthur's face, there all red with his blood. He knows he's doomed when darkness begins to enter his vision, desperately he looks to the only other around for help, Arthur, but he passes out before he can beg to be saved...

So Alfred is very surprised when he wakes up only a few hours later. Blinking, he momentarily wonders if he died and went to heaven, after all, he's warm, comfortable and his bed is lovely and soft and... moving? Wait, hasn't this already happened?

He looks around and freezes, feeling a strange sense of déjà vu, as he realises he's lying on Arthur.

"Uh..." He blanks, not sure what to say, what even happened?

Arthur shifts, looking around at him.

'Oh. So your awake. Good, now you can feed me.' He says so casually Alfred is taken aback.

"Feed you? But my arm is... fine?" True enough, he's uninjured.

'Hmm? Oh, it healed.' The wolf supplies unhelpfully.

"Healed? How? Did you..." He trails off, somehow knowing the answer without having to hear it.

'No. Well, nothing intentionally anyway. But...' He looks hard at the knight, 'I did feel... something. This new power within me, it responded to your injury on it's own, it healed you, not me.'

"What? That doesn't even make any sense, how can magic act on it's own? I thought all magic required training and masses of conscious thought to be preformed."

'It does.' The seriousness of Arthur's voice in his mind rings like a bell, waking him up fully.

'Something is going on here, but I don't know what, and I hate that. Every time I think of you, I can only call you by name, not what you are. And...I...don't want to kill you anymore. I've tried to think about it but now it only seems...wrong to.'

Alfred nods along to all of this.

"Yeah, I get what your saying, but I have no idea what's going on here." He stops, thinking for a moment.

"But...I might know someone who can help figure this out."

'Another human?' The wolf questions suspiciously causing the knight to roll his eyes.

"Well, Yeah, obviously. Not like I know any other wolves or anything that I can ask about all this weird shit."

Arthur growls, 'Don't get snide with me.'

"Yeah, Yeah. So what do you say we go find the guy and ask him?" Arthur considers this.

'As much as I hate the idea of seeking out more humans, I hate not knowing more. Not knowing something is what gets you killed. Alright,' he nods to Alfred, 'let's go find this other human.'

"Great!"

'But first,' Arthur somehow smirks with his wolf face an him, 'You still need to feed me breakfast.'

Alfred groans, but heads off anyway.

Neither of them knew it at the time, but this decision would change their lives, forever, shaping their future into what they are destined to become.

Authors notes: Alfred, ever heard the saying; let sleeping dogs (or rather here, wolves) lie? Nope didn't think so. And a little hint to Arthur's past, those aren't the only scars he has. So what's going on? You'll just have to wait and see. And who is Al thinking might help?

Well, like I said before about this originally being abandoned, this is now as far as I had planned out (apart for a few plot points), but I don't want to end it here so I'll keep going as see where this story goes.

In other news, dumb me finnaly figured out how to work the line breaks on my tablet so huzza!

R & R people.

Until next time, stay awesome!