Wolf of War

A Patricia Briggs werewolf fanfiction

Chapter Thirteen:

Combat Fatigue

Ares let Penelope have her cry, gently rubbing across her back and shoulders, offering her some comfort from a relative stranger. It was surprising to him that she had taken to him as she had, and almost as surprising that he had been as willing to be so protective of her. In light of that, vowing to her to be her protector wasn't much of a stretch.

However, there was still the issue with Garrak and 'his' new wolf, Christopher; the newer wolf had felt something protective about the wolf— Penelope— taking comfort from him at the moment, but he could only hope that it was just protectiveness, and not a competing feeling of sexual interest. He himself wasn't immune to the strong urges of his wolf to loosen his control on some of his more straightforward urges, sexual ones among them, but fortunately for him, among other reasons, he was used to pushing such urges aside. He was sure that, while he could shift them away from his thoughts relatively easy, due to other reasons why he wasn't willing to give in to them, he was also sure that at some point, repressing those urges would catch up with him. For the moment, though, he was simply going to have to keep on suppressing his urges, and deal with the fallout when there was time to do so.

Wolves, at least in comparison with humanity, were pretty simple beings; they hunted when hungry, slept when tired, and when other urges came upon them, they generally gave in to them, unless another pressing matter, such as hunger or survival, was more urgent. Garrak and Christopher were following the wolves' urge towards dominance, establishing which of them was stronger than the other. From all appearances, Garrak was fighting just to be able to lay claim to a submissive female wolf— Penelope— who didn't want him, and Christopher was fighting under the dubious idea of defending the honor of another. The problem with that, as far as Ares considered it, was that they both had human considerations that they were ignoring, for the sake of fighting for no real reason; Garrak didn't need to fight to try and talk to Penelope; he could simply state his interests, and for what Ares imagined, she would likely tell him 'no'. Christopher didn't need to fight, either; he could step back and let Penelope handle the matter herself, ask her if she wanted him to help her handle the matter, or come to him— Ares— and ask him to handle the matter. Barring that, either of them could have spoken to the Marrok and asked him how best to deal with the matter— Garrak, to ask how best to approach the young and obviously scared and just as obviously new submissive female wolf, and Christopher, to ask how best to let the situation he could see developing between an aggressive Garrak and a scared and passive Penelope be worked out.

But here they all were; Garrak and Christopher was poised to have a go at one another; a puffed up pop-in-jay wanting to prove that he was a bad ass, making a challenge to a brand-spanking new, immature and unbalanced hothead. He could already see so many ways that that could go wrong.

One of the things he hadn't counted on, however, was that the pair of combatants would already be fighting by the time he returned to the pole barn; his wolven senses would have told him about the fight before it had even begun, but even with his prodigious connection with his wolf, he wasn't yet used to using those senses without conscious thought.

There were the wolves from 'his' pack, Diana, Tamara and Darius, who were already there when he came upon the fight, bringing a somewhat reluctant Penelope behind; of course the Marrok was also present, along with the other, near-Alpha Asil, and a couple of others; all eyes were on the combatants, but he knew that his arrival had been noted.

"They agreed to fight as wolves," Diana filled him in as he got close enough to tell him, "they've only been going at it for a couple of minutes."

It was his first time seeing Garret's wolf; he was of an almost stereotypical German Shepherd coloration, something odd to see on a wolf, in his opinion; his wolf was just a touch larger than Christopher's Malamute coloration.

"Not cool," Ares commented, more to himself than to anyone else; he had a suspicion that Garrak had either chosen to fight like that, or had readily accepted to fight like that, because he had more control of his wolf side than Christopher, and planned to use that inexperience, and perhaps the slight size difference between them, to his benefit. Privately, he was betting that Garrak had been the one to choose to fight as a wolf.

It took about another five minutes or so, but his theory seemed to play out as Garrak found a way to overpower the newer wolf, pinning him down on the ground beneath him, his jaws clamped around Christopher's wolf's throat. From what he could see, Garrak's wolf seemed to take some sort of delight at being in the dominant position, as he gave a short but savage shake of his head while he held onto his challenger. Ares frowned as he noticed Garrak seemingly looking in his direction right before he'd done so.

"Enough," the voice of the Marrok seemed to almost whisper, and yet roll with power as it reached the ears of all assembled. "You've proven your dominance." That seemed to convince Garrak to unclamp his jaws and back away from the downed wolf before him.

The downed wolf, who Ares watched for a few moments, who didn't seem to be moving.

Frowning, Ares walked over to where Christopher lay, his focus on the other wolf, watching to see the rise and fall of his ribcage, to see signs of anything resembling life. He still hadn't seen anything in the few seconds it took for him to reach the downed wolf, and he reached in, lightly pressing his hand against the wolf's side, feeling to see if he was still breathing.

Christopher was still.

Ares felt himself growling low in his throat, in a way that was almost uncomfortable, in a way that he hadn't actually been trying to do. His mind rewound the last few moments of the fight, rewatching as Garrak seemed to look at him, and then shake his head, and Christopher's neck, when maybe it wasn't necessary. Had the conquering wolf bitten down just a bit more, right before? He wasn't sure, but he was pretty certain that Christopher had been alive before then, and now he wasn't. His head whipped up and he locked eyes with Garrak, who barely locked eyes with him before he gave a slight 'yip' sound, and ducked his head, backing away from the focused glare searing his way.

"He is dead." The words from the Marrok seemed both a question and an answer simultaneously, and he looked up in time to see the Marrok give him a brief, but emotionally laden glance, before his face blanked and the elder wolf turned away from him.

"Garrak," the Marrok continued, softly glaring at the aforementioned wolf, "your fight wasn't supposed to be to the death."

Said aforementioned wolf had the grace to give a look back of what Ares took to be surprise, flit across his lupine features, before he ducked his head once again, his nose nearly to the ground.

"And I am not fully certain that you didn't mean to at least give some sort of harm to this young wolf, due to not being able to take on his pack leader," the elder wolf went on, "You may or may not have intended to kill; regardless of your intentions, your actions and their results carry very serious consequences. I will think on just what those consequences will be, but in the meantime, Garrak, you will behave with all the wolves here as though they are more dominant than you." Ares could hear, could feel, the power in the voice of the Marrok then. "Perhaps such will begin to teach you humility and respectful understanding." The Marrok's gaze bore down into Garrak for a few moments more, before he turned on his heel and began to walk away. "Oh, and Garrak? You are responsible for a proper burial of your challenger. See to it."

On the one hand— or paw; the incongruous thought struck him for just a moment— he didn't think that Garrak's punishment was nearly enough, not at all, not even with the threat of something potentially worse coming down the pike, and he was unexpectedly irritated with the Marrok for what seemed to be a slap on the wrist. On the other hand, though, Garrak was not 'his' wolf to punish, and whatever human morals he might have judge the situation with, might not be what was called for in this situation, and so all he could do was trust that this was at least some kind of punishment by wolven standards. All in all, it left him feeling irritable and impotent.

Swallowing the irritation and impotence, Ares turned towards 'his' pack.

"I don't care if you think I'm patronizing you at the moment," he began, his tone a rough growl, "but take that lesson in mind; if you challenge someone more dominant that you, you might not get a second chance to learn from it." His gaze turned for a few moments to focus squarely on Tamara, who couldn't seem to hold his gaze, but her body language still vibrated faintly with rebellious anger. He thought about adding more, of saying something about keeping a mindfulness, of not letting instinctual urges cloud ones thinking, but he swallowed that, too; that would be patronizing, perhaps even rubbing their noses in it, so to speak, and while it might work, he didn't think it would be worth it, in the long run, for the potential cohesion of 'his' pack, for him to do that.

With a care that he was struggling to hold onto, rather than the anger he wanted to give in to, he gently brushed past his pack mates. He needed a bit of time to get his head on straight. His wolf agreed.

Let us go run through the forest, his wolf side suggested, and he got the feeling that his wolf was meaning for him to change forms, for that run through the forest. It took him a few minutes to first get undressed— and while he wasn't ashamed of his body, nor particularly modest about it, it was definitely interesting to simply strip out of his clothes, right there out in the open, in the relatively freezing temperatures of Montana— and then Change. After that, he wasn't all that concerned about being unclothed; not only did he have fur to keep him warm, but his wolf was more 'in control' of the two of them, and his wolf certainly had no thoughts about wearing clothing. He let his wolf guide him, mostly, as they had a gentle run through the trees.

The irresponsible whelp was punished, as he should have been, his wolf stated with a touch of imperiousness.

"Murderer!" he growled internally— and a very small part of him laughed at himself, repeating the line from the fairly recent animated Disney movie he'd taken himself to see not long ago— and tried not to snarl at his wolf too much. "He should be thrown in prison!"

Restrained? Never to run free again?

"He deliberately took his life!" he all but roared at his wolf, and he could sense his wolf's growing…not anger, so much as exasperation, with how he was speaking with him.

Two wolves fought for dominance, his wolf stated, sounding slightly confused, and slightly like he was talking to a child, one of them lost. Death is one of the consequences of losing a challenge.

"That was deliberate," Ares countered harshly, "he looked at me, right before he deliberately broke his neck!"

And he was punished.

"He was given a slap on the wrist!" Ares barked back. He felt a bit of confusion from his wolf, and thought about how to rephrase his words. "His punishment was barely a cuff on the ear," he offered, thinking that a better analogy for his wolf to grasp.

Ahhhh, I see, his wolf remarked, you think his punishment was too gentle.

Ares grunted in response. "If it had been an accident, I might feel differently."

So as you have said that you feel that it was deliberate, you feel that the whelp meant to end the life of his challenger, that it was in his thoughts to do so.

"Yes!" Ares shot back at him emphatically.

He could sense his wolf giving the mental equivalent of a put-upon sigh. Intentions, as I am taking that to be the word you use to describe what I've said, are a human mannerism. Wolves function a great deal more by instinct than intention.

Ares growled inwardly at that, his response a wordless one.

Perhaps the human part thought of the act, but the wolf merely acted? His wolf offered. A balanced wolf works in cooperation and harmony with the human they are bound with. When we are wolf, you have never been a wolf, so you may think what you wish, but our instincts will sometimes be what guide our actions, because you have never been a wolf. Likewise, when we are human, I have never been human. I may offer my instincts, but you will act more as would benefit us in the human world, because I have never been human.

Ares growled again, irritated that the explanation made sense, that the explanation had the power to blunt his anger towards the 'irresponsible' wolf. He didn't want to be mollified; thinking about the differences between the way he generally thought, and the morals and values he held as a human, and the way his wolf seemed to think, and what and how the wolf side of him considered as values, though, was giving him a mental headache, and his wolf side— the part of him more in control at the moment— was not helping in that regard. The wolf, for the most part, did not care, at least not in the same ways that he did; the challenge was over with, the 'problem child' properly punished, so there was nothing more to be concerned about.

His wolf continued to guide him— or, rather, to basically take over and be the wolf— while he worked at convincing himself— his human self— to try not to overthink the situation; he couldn't exactly think in strictly human terms anymore, not when he was dealing with wolves such as he was now.

He eventually found himself trotting back into the clearing of the Marrok's compound, and his clothing; the Marrok slowly strode in his direction as he was reaching where his clothing had been set, and stood patiently as he Changed and then dressed.

The Marrok seemed to have all the patience of Job, as he Changed— by his own internal measure, it took a couple of minutes— but even as he was reaching to retrieve his clothing, the Marrok wordlessly asked him to stop dressing, while he was still only in his boxer briefs.

"You'll be Changing again soon enough, God of War," the elder wolf stated with a hint of humor in his voice, "no need to get dressed again just to undress. And no need to waste time when you'll need to eat for the energy to Change yet again." He gestured to Ares with a 'come along' sweep of a hand. "Come. Eat. I'd like to have a few words with you along the way, anyway."

Despite the lackadaisical delivery, Ares was savvy enough to recognize a quiet command when he'd heard one, and coming from the Marrok, he made the choice to follow along. He managed to grab up his clothing and slipped down the trail behind the elder wolf, heading towards the pole barn and the house.

"You are a rather unique wolf, Ares, God of War," the Marrok began, looking over his shoulder for a few moments at the taller, younger wolf. "You Change more quickly than most. You seem to be connected with your wolf more quickly and so soon after being Changed than most. You seem to have a balance with your wolf more completely so soon after being Changed, as well. And you seem to have a firmer grasp on…how to handle the urges between you and your wolf more so, so quickly after being Changed, than most."

The Marrok, Bran, continued walking back towards the pole barn— with Ares following— for a few moments further in silence, before continuing. "These things are merely the more obvious things I have noticed about you, God of War," he offered in a tone that was both light, and yet intense. "I believe you will be a powerful Dominant wolf, Ares," he added, his tone more quiet then. "Much remains to be seen, but what I have seen…" He gave a brief nod of his head, glancing over his shoulder at Ares, and then continued onward, past the pole barn and onward towards the main house.

"Normally," the Marrok began; he had called the others of Ares' "pack" to the main house as well, in addition to his son Charles, who seemed to glower over the others as if he needed to watch over squabbling pups— and beyond that, the main house felt conspicuously empty; the Marrok seemed to _ with his next words, "all of the wolves in our great Pack would be here, to witness the joining of a new wolf to our Pack, or the creation of a new pack. In either case, there would be the ceremony of the Joining of the Pack, which would bond a new wolf to the Pack, and the Pack with the new wolf." He fell silent for a beat. "But as I am certain is clear, none of those is the case here and today."

The Marrok turned towards Ares. "As a wolf of considerable dominance and a strong connection with his wolf, I have asked God of War Ares to function as the dominant wolf of your pack while you all are here." He paused, and took in the gaze of each wolf there; all immediately bowed their heads or averted their gazes except for Charles and Ares, though Ares also turned away after a brief moment of gazing, in respect for the Marrok's power and authority. His gaze shifted briefly to link with that of the Marrok's son, Charles, and again he held the other wolf's gaze for a second or so, before shifting away, more for the respect of the Marrok and not wanting to give the illusion of wanting to challenge the other wolf, than for anything else.

He continued, "As you are not yet my wolves, and you are not yet his wolves," he gestured to Ares again, "I can only ask of you to consider that I make this decision with a great deal of thought and a strong belief that it is a correct decision. Time will tell; I will be watching you all, not just the God of War." He offered a gentle smile, that Ares took note of that didn't quite reach his eyes; he was amused, but beneath that amusement, he was intensely focused.

"I will be watching you as you hunt."

That seemed to get the attentions of the others, Ares could almost feel their thoughts focus on the Marrok's words, on the idea of what he'd just given voice to. "This will be a test, and I tell you this, not because it is a test to pass or fail; you are still new to your wolf, and the test is simply to see how connected you have managed to come to your wolf so far. But you will be watched, must be watched, to make sure that you do not completely lose control.

"You will hunt; your Pack leader, your dominant, will lead you in your hunt, and you will take your cues from him. Because of the nature of things, the five of you will hunt without the assistance of the rest of the great Pack, but we will be close in case there is need." Now the Marrok's smile— a smirk now— reached his eyes. "May your hunt be successful." He turned and walked off towards his office; Charles watched over the "pack" for a second or two further, and then turned to follow his father.

"Well, that was intense," Diana said in a near-whisper, after they heard the door close on the Alpha wolf's office. Ares looked at the others, and while no one else spoke, he got the feeling that they all agreed with the olive-complexioned woman.

Ares took in a breath and then let out a long sigh. "Let's get this started," he said, looking at the others; he'd begun to reach for a non-existent shirt before he remembered that he was still just in his boxer briefs. He give a self-deprecating smirk as he quipped, "Well, I guess I'm already almost ready." He gestured to the others, "Go ahead and strip— unless you want to rip your clothes to shreds and hurt yourself even more when you Change." He tossed that last to Tamara, as she glared at him at the mentioning of taking off her clothes.

"I'll even turn around so I'm not watching you," he said to her as she continued to scowl at him. "But you're a wolf now; get over it; if you join a pack, you'll be doing that so much you won't even think about it." He put action to his words, though, and turned around to give the female wolf the illusion of privacy. He waited for a few moments until he heard no further rustling of clothing, and then turned around again,

He looked at 'his' wolves stood around him, not paying a lot of attention to their state of undress, more looking at them and trying to decide which one of them would be, could be, his 'second in command', but more importantly at that moment, looking to see what he needed to see, to help make the hunt as successful as it could be.

The more he thought about it, though, the more he thought/felt that there just weren't enough bodies to make a good and successful hunt. But he had to work with what he had available. His thoughts about the hunt were jumbled, but his duty— such as it was— was clear. He nodded to himself, making a few decisions.

"We're going after rabbits," he announced to the other four, "and we'll take them one at a time; I'll make the decision about who gets each rabbit we catch."

"Who died and made you king?" Tamara blurted out; she seemed to catch herself when Ares' head whipped around, his gaze locking onto her with a piercing precision, pulling back a bit away from him as he glared at her.

"Make no mistake here, Tamara," he growled softly, "I am the one in charge of this group of ours, the leader, the Alpha of our little pack here, and unless or until that changes, that means you are not in charge. You think you want the job? You're welcome to try, but I promise you, the next time you try me, I will rip you to fucking shreds. So unless, or until, you think you're ready for that fight, act like a grown-ass adult and not like a child who can't get her way!"

Tamara glared back at him, mostly unable to meet his gaze, but he could just about feel the frustration and humiliation rolling off of her for that very public put-down.

Ares turned from looking at her, his message delivered.

"I'm not here to be hated," he began, taking the other three in his gaze now, "But I'm not here to be liked at the moment, either; I'm here to prove that I can lead. We may not even stay all in a formal pack together, so right now, all I'm asking is that you try and trust that I will lead, and that I will make good decisions in the process. If you can't do that, then let me know right now, and you can sit out this hunt. Because I'm not taking anyone here with me, who I can't trust to work with me."

The other three— Darius, Diana and Penelope— each looked at one another, before Penelope dropped her gaze, and Darius gave Diana a slight nod of his head. Diana turned to look at Ares, and he took that for her to be the spokesperson of the three.

"We're behind you, boss," she offered in a quiet but melodic tenor voice.

Ares gave a nod. "Then let's go hunt," he announced.