From: laurelc@wincom.net
Date: Fri, 12 Nov 2004 13:46:01 -0500
Subject: [atxc-pi] NEW: Darkness and light, part 1 of 2 -NC-17- (0/2)
Source: atxc

Title: Darkness and light, part 1 of 2 
Author: laurel 
Feedback Email: laurelc@wincom.net 
Author's Website: 
Archive at Gossamer: Yes to Gossamer 
Status: NEW - Standalone 
Size: 44k 
Category: Drama, Adventure, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, AU (Alternate Universe) 
Pairings: Skinner/Krycek , Mulder/Scully romantic relationship 
Rating: NC-17 
Gossamer Category: Adventure ~ Angst ~ Slash 
Summary: My take on the romantic adventure movie "Ladyhawke" 

Part 1
Please see part 0 (template) for story information.

Notes: Based on the movie Ladyhawke, recast with Walter and Alex.
Mulder and Scully also appear, among some other familiar
characters.

I did some research to make the people, customs and atmosphere as
authentic as I could so any errors in this respect are mine.

Spoilers: Totally AU but Alex does lose his arm.

Archive: Okay to DitB, WWOMB, Full house slash, anyone else just
ask first.

The peasants toiled hard in their short lives.  They were lives of 
misery, cut short by disease and accident.  Lives of hard labor,
strife and few happy moments.  While the men had a better chance,
the women were doomed by their biology.  More often than not they
died in childbirth.  The children who survived were few.

These people died knowing their reward lay beyond this dismal 
earth.

*************************************************************

The bishop twisted his heavy gold ring and tapped his foot, shod in
an ostentatious slipper, impatiently.  He strode up and down his 
well-appointed apartment.  

He grew hard at the thought of his visitor's arrival.  He took a
piece of snuff from an ornately decorated box on his heavy oak desk
and chewed on it thoughtfully.

When one of his priests announced the visitor he spat out the 
tobacco and smoothed his graying hair back from his forehead.
The bishop's smile spread evilly across his wrinkled face.

"Alexander, do come in."

The rogue soldier stalked into the room like a dangerous forest
animal.  The bishop shivered with delight.  He would like to cage
Alex like the animals in his magnificent zoo.  He would be exotic
compared to the vicious striped tigers that could tear a man's 
throat open with one swipe and the now ferocious bears that once
been taught to dance to amuse stupid villagers who would shell
out several coins to watch the silliness in a traveling circus.   

"Why have you summoned me?" he asked coldly.  He wrapped his arms
around a hard chest honed by enthusiastic exercise and battle.  

"Would you care for a bite?"  The bishop spread his hands 
expansively, indicating the sumptuous feast spread out before them.

"No," was the curt reply.  "Dinner awaits me at home."

The bishop studied the young man.  His eyes were a deep green
spaced widely apart.  High cheekbones led to small intricately folded
ears.  His hair was dark, a long sweep of its chestnut length covered
one eye.  His rosy lips were pursed and his nose stabbed the air with
its short length as though he smelled something rotten.  

It was rumored his people had come from the east.  Somewhere along
the way he had acquired a faint English accent and although he had
a perfectly good English name, no one could find out what his 
former surname had been.  Or if he even had one.  Most of the
peasants did not have a last name.  They were identified in relation
to a physical trait, a relation.  Many never left their isolated
villages.  If they did, they probably could not make their way 
back as they had no map to retrace their steps towards home.

It was also rumored that he was a mixture of noble and peasant blood
but carried himself proudly.  He cared not one bit what anyone 
thought of him.  Save for one man.

"My proposition still stands.  Have you thought more of it?"

Alexander regarded the corrupt bishop with squinted eyes.

"After all I am a man of God.  The closer you are to me, the closer
you are to him."

Alexander snorted contemptuously.  "You are no more a man of God
than I am."

The bishop was one of the most corrupt he'd ever had the displeasure
to meet.  The peasants had more fear of God's wrath than he.  The
wife of his best friend Mulder, Lady Dana, had more grace in one
small finger than he possessed in his whole body.  The innocent awe
of one child put the bishop's pride to shame.

"I have already told you my decision," Alex said coldly.  "I would
never lie with you, Spender."

Alex turned and walked out with no word of leaving and slammed the
door behind him.

Spender smiled without humor.  "I will have you any way I can dear
Alex.  And if I can't have you, your lover will never again touch
you either."

His rheumy eyes were cold.  Anyone witnessing his dark anger would
surely shrink away from him in terror.

He had no stomach left for the meal his cook had been preparing since
dawn.    He called for his servant to clear the table and to summon
Mulder.

***********************************************************

"I tell you I cannot," Mulder insisted.

"Your head will turn."

"I do not have need for much money and I would never use the
black arts against another living being, much less my best friend.
I am indebted to Alex for my entire life after he saved me from 
drowning.  I will bring him no harm."

"It would be a shame if anything were to happen to your lovely
wife."  The man's tone was deadly as a snake's strike and oozed
a horrible mixture of concern and malevolence.

Mulder stood stock still, his heart racing and his white skin 
turning a sickly pale shade at the veiled threat.

"That servant girl you took in as your daughter.  She's rather
pretty isn't she?  That beautiful golden brown hair that she twists
around her fingers when she's nervous is so luxurious.  It would
also make it so easy to capture and hold her.  A double-edged
sword, dearest Fox, if you will.

"And those eyes, so beguiling, so blue, nearly as amazing as your
wife's.  It was so generous of you to adopt her as your own.  She's
so innocent and sweet still at her age.  T'would be a shame if
her virtue were taken from her with nary a thought."

The man's voice was like oil insinuating itself into Mulder's very
skin.

He hung his head.  There was naught he could do to protect his
precious family forever from this madman.  He turned his head so
that the gloating bishop could not see his tears.

**********************************************************

The bright rays of late afternoon sun struck Alex's face, making the
pale visage light up with an angelic glow that was at odds with his
very deadly soldier skills.  It caught the russet tones in his hair,
which was tied back with a simple leather string.  The same sort
of string that tethered the eagle's claws.

He smiled at the beautiful bird.  Its sharp brown eyes looked right
through him to his very soul.  He caressed the feathers on his head.
The beak opened as if pleased with the attention and snapped shut 
again.

"He's so strong, so beautiful."

"Yes.  It's the ideal animal for him," Dana replied.

She patted the small mound of her stomach.  She was beginning to
show.  Her dress was a trifle tight.  She would have to have Agatha
mend her garments.  She didn't care much for fashion, her gowns
were modest but beautiful and she didn't want to buy new clothes.
Her first pregnancy had ended prematurely and the new clothes she'd
had made to fit over her burgeoning stomach had been burned in a fit
of bitter sadness.

Mulder came in and shook off his heavy cloak.  "There's a chill in
the air.  Luckily our babe will be born in the spring time."

He stopped short when he saw Alex at the window.  The eagle gave a
chirrup of recognition or greeting and fled through the open door.

He hesitated.  He hadn't been prepared to see Alex so soon.  He gave
Dana a quick kiss and petted her shining red hair.

"Hello Alex."

"Have you found out how to break the spell?"

"No, I haven't," he said quietly.

"You went to find the book.  You said the priest at Cottam had a 
copy of this book of spells.  Did you not find it?"

"Yes, but too late."

A feeling of dread came over Alex.  The same feeling that warned him
an enemy was near when in times of war.

"I discovered what was left of the book.  Spender had the priest
burn it straight away.  There was nothing left but ashes.  I'm 
sorry."  Despair was etched across his face.

"Ashes?"  Alex repeated.

"When you spurned him after the spell was cast he ordered the parish
priest to burn the copy even though I sent a messenger ahead to
prevent it."

"It can't be!  There must be some way to fix this.  Mulder you 
are a practitioner of the white arts, of healing, you must know how
to reverse such an evil spell."

Mulder hung his head.  "Alex I am a healer, a doctor, a secret
practitioner of witchcraft, but I'm no master of the black arts.  I
don' t know how to fix this.  But I promise I will try everything
in my power to help you."  He lifted his head, his hazel eyes
now gray with sadness.  "Spender gave me the spells to cast on you
and Walter," he stammered.  "I don't have anything in my library
to reverse it.  I had to study it correctly to make sure it worked
right in the first place.  Otherwise, it may have resulted in a worse
curse than this," he finished quietly.  

Tears stung Alex's eyes so that Mulder was a blur.  A blur made
up of mournful gray eyes and the dark blue tunic that hung to his
thighs.

"Please tell me we won't be thus cursed forever."

"I'm so sorry.  I don't know how to undo the damage at this point.
But please take heart, this man must possess a copy of his spells.
A man with such power will be boastful of his dastardly spells.  We
will find him, no matter the cost.  If there had been a reversal 
spell in that same book I would have memorized it.  Hell, I would
have eaten the damn page, but another book must exist in order to
reverse the damage."

Alex's vision cleared as the tears rolled down his face and traced
the curves of his cheekbones.  Mulder turned away from his weeping
friend.  He handed him a delicate lace handkerchief and Dana squeezed
his hand reassuringly.  The bird swooped in through the door.  They
all looked at him guiltily.

Mulder wiped at his own face as Alex blotted his tears.  Dana 
bustled in the kitchen, Emily jumping up to help make tea.

The eagle ruffled its feathers and settled again.

"I must go now.  I can't bear it."

"Please Alex." He took hold of Alex's sleeve and pulled at it.
"Don't give up.  Something can be done.  I'm sure of it."

"I will never give up," he replied fiercely.  "Never."

Dana gathered up the skirts of her dress and joined them.  She held
Alex's hand in hers, warming it between her small hands.  She smiled
at him, imploring with her eyes.  "Please stay for dinner with us.
We'll set a course of action."

She would brook no argument, he realized.  He nodded and washed up
outside, cooling his swollen eyes with a cupful of water from the
well.

The eagle rounded the simple house and banked sharply, spreading his
wings to the fullest.  Alex held out his arm and looked skyward.  The
great bird soared high above him.  The sun flinted off his white head
making his crown a blinding spot of white light.  The bird crowed
in appreciation of the ability of flight.

His wing tips spread further, a dark unfurled blanket against the
blue sky.  He dove down and landed gracefully on Alex's arm.  He
tucked in his wings and preened his feathers.

"Let's go in."

The bird settled himself on a chair back while lady Dana, Mulder and
Alex ate dinner.  Emily exhibited her shy streak and stayed in the
kitchen to sup.

Alex fed the bird pieces of his dinner, preferring not to see his
lover, thus transformed, tearing lethal claws into the body of a
plump bird he caught.

They ate the pigeon with a few slices of hard cheese and the crusty
bread that Alex liked so much.  In his native home, dark bread was
his favorite, even though the nobility ate white.  He cared more for
his own personal taste than what was fashionable or expected.  He
could certainly afford the bread of the nobles.  He laid claim to
a minor title though no one knew of it except for his closest friends
and Walter.

Walter came from a family of Irish and English nobles and was
certainly not impoverished yet they lived modestly and treasured
those few luxuries they afforded themselves.

He sopped up pea soup with the rest of the bread and topped the
last slices with thick slabs of ham.  The bird ate the little chunks
daintily and carefully as Alex hand fed him, always cautious in
sparing his hand from the sharp beak. 

He smiled at his companion, pleased with its carefulness, loving
the sharp brown eyes that even in its current form were bright and
intelligent but gentle when they looked at Alex.

They all ate slowly, savoring the many courses of the supper meal.
The table was soon half-empty, all that remained were crumbs and a
small amount of leftovers.  Dana served a selection of pies and 
fruit.  Mulder and Alex patted their stomachs.  The bird chirped and
attacked an apple, slicing its sharp beak into the pale flesh of the
fruit until the core could be seen.

The sun was setting over the rough-hewn table.  Alex glanced up
and looked worriedly at Dana and Mulder.  Mulder understood his
silent message and ushered Dana out of the room.  She was no 
innocent of course he knew.  Frankly Dana had chased her shy Mulder
into marriage with a belly bursting with a child that she later lost.
It was not an uncommon practice to beget a child to lead a woman
to the altar.  A woman had only two choices open to her when she
came of age: either she married or if she was too old, she was sent
to the nunnery.  Dana was a religious woman but not *that* devoted.

"Come," Alex called softly.  The eagle abandoned its devastated
apple and hopped onto Alex's arm.

Mulder led Alex to the spare bedroom where Alex undressed.  He
could feel the stirring in his skin signaling the change was about
to take place.

The eagle was perched on the desk, spreading its wings anxiously.
Alex carefully folded his clothes and Mulder left the two of them
alone together, shutting the door to preserve their privacy.

He joined Dana in the kitchen and helped his wife and Emily clear
the supper dishes.  He fed the remnants of their meal to some
passing beggars.  Although he was a doctor in a small city and was
often called upon to minister to the nobles who paid him handsomely,
he never turned away from those poor and infirm or just hungry
people that passed his door.  

He relied on Dana for her abilities as a mid-wife and together they
were quite successful in healing.  Their unique abilities along with
Mulder's belief in spiritual and emotional healing as well as their
shared refusal to engage in anything that seemed like quackery, made
them a most envied couple of healers.

Along with the medical knowledge that Fox had soaked up like a 
sea sponge in school and his careful observation of his teachers
and mentors, he had a natural affinity for healing that included a
warm and generous personality, his penchant for laughter which
mended the spirit and spiritual faith in the divine and mysterious.
His knowledge of herbs and curiosity led to experiments that often
led to miraculous recoveries.

The use of herbs was widespread and they were mixed with ale,
vinegar and honey, among other substances, to create potions and
ointments that relieved ailments or were used as charms against
disease.  He had even mixed a concoction that others had boasted
as a cure for baldness.  He'd given a pot to Walter, on Walter's
desperate insistence, even though he didn't think it would work.
Walter didn't regain his hair, but Alex declared that his scalp
tasted sweet as he swiped his tongue across the balding pate, much
to Walter's embarrassment and Fox's amusement.

Of course most of the potions and teas he mixed were potent and
helpful.  Even when treating the most minor and common ailments
Fox was intent on complete success.

Alex lay on the cool floor naked.  He could actually feel his skin
and bones stretching and realigning themselves.  His teeth grew
and curved into sharp canines.  While he underwent this change he
watched as the bird grew and expanded, the sharp beak becoming
the softly rounded nose of his lover, the full length of his muscular
body making the desk beneath him groan.

For an instant they regarded each other for a few seconds before the
change took place and became complete.  Naked flushed skin was
human with bulging muscles, battle scars, fine hair covering their
skin, the matt of graying hair on Walter's chest, arched feet, then
in an instant, Alex changed into animal form and Walter into human
again.

Walter greeted his friends after dressing and took a long solitary
walk to stretch his legs.  After a time, Alex followed him.  He
prowled with the ingrained stealth of the wolf he now was.  The
animal sniffed at the territories marked by stray dogs, pawed
at the ground when he smelled a rodent nest until Walter pushed
him with his leg to keep moving and trotted with obvious good
humor, his long tongue hanging out of his mouth as he stayed close
to his lover.

Walter read the brief note Alex had left before they turned in for
the night.  His script was small and careful.  It detailed Alex's
plans for finding the spell book and inside the folded letter was
a map.  The letter ended, as always, with "all my love, Alex."
Walter smiled and caressed the slightly smudged ink.

He bade Mulder and Dana good night and settled into bed with no
night clothes on.  The wolf whined at the smells and sounds of
wild animals coming from the open window.  Walter patted the bed
and the wolf jumped up and curled itself at Walter's side.

********************************************************

They set off in the early morning, when the sun had barely risen
in the sky.  The fog curled around the thick tree trunks and wild
grasses, licking them with a damp tongue.  The lacy leaves of the
ferns were covered with a slick film of dew that reflected the sun's
gentle rays like gems.  

The town's people were stirring already, the men and women setting
up in the market stalls, where fresh fruit and vegetables cut the 
odor of fish so freshly caught they nearly wriggled; the merchants
displayed their wares to best advantage, all competing for customers;
the bakers had been up for hours kneading dough; the monks earlier
still for prayers.

Alex surveyed the town as they passed by, with Mulder at his side to
accompany him to the boundary and the ever present eagle following
behind  them, hundreds of feet high in the air.

They passed the market, the square, thatched houses with their
sleepy inhabitants stirring within, the communal well, women carrying
baskets to carry their goods bought at the market, fellow early 
morning travelers, the beggars who hoped to find a few crumbs of
spoiled food in the marketplace.

Mulder bid him goodbye at the edge of town.  He hugged his friend
and stroked the flank of Walter's prize horse.  The horse whinnied
and thrust his head up.  He waved at Walter.

Their journey began quietly and they rode far, stopping for short
breaks on the way.  They were still in the country when evening
came.  Alex had reluctantly stopped to make camp.

He made sure the horse drank its fill at a small brook nearby before
tying him to a tree for the night.  He brushed the horse's rich black
coat and hung a blanket over him.  

He would need to make something for supper.  Some stale bread and 
fresh water from the brook was a start.  He had salted meat as 
well and hard cheese.  Whatever else they needed they could catch
or fish or pick as there was good hunting in the area with rabbits
in the bush, game birds, fish in the brook and plentiful fruit trees
in this area.

As though he could read Alex's mind the bird took off silently into
the air.  Alex frowned.  It was nearly dusk.  Now was not the time
for Walter to be in the air.  In moments he was diving down to 
earth.  Alex's mouth opened on a scream.  The eagle let out a cry
as he captured his prize, a soft plump brown rabbit that twitched
in its grasp for mere seconds before it ceased to struggle.

Alex let out a harsh breath.  "Don't scare me like that."

The eagle dropped the rabbit at his feet and chirped indignantly.

"You scared me.  I'm sorry.  Thank you."

Alex roasted the rabbit over the fire he had built.

The sunset pierced the trees as he ate making the silvery leaves
glimmer with a demonic light.  He fed the bird small pieces of
the rabbit.  He'd leave some bread and water out for Walter when
he changed form.  He left a good bit of the rabbit as well but ate
his fill, burning his fingers on the hot roasted flesh.  He chewed on
a few slices of dried apple while the bird preened its feathers 
nearby.

Alex could feel the change beginning.  He shed his clothes and
piled them neatly on the ground.  The last rays of the sun burnt
down to a crisp orange before the sky turned a deeper blue fading
to light purple.  

For brief seconds they were able to observe each other as they once
were.  Walter's feathers dissolved to form flesh, his body elongated,
the razor sharp claws became feet.  

Alex sprouted a thick pelt of fur, dark as the hair on his human 
head.  His teeth grew into sharp fangs.  His fingers curled into
paws and sharp nails emerged.

For mere breaths they saw each other as men, as human, naked pink
flesh that had received loving caresses from each other's hands.

Walter stood naked, blood spattered on his body.  He looked down
and saw the remains of the rabbit and realized he must have killed it.

Alex was now in wolf form, his thick black coat shining in the
light of the fire.  His eyes glowed in the dark.

Walter washed himself in the babbling brook as the wolf looked on.
He found clean dry clothes in the sack that held their possessions.
He ate the rest of the food Alex had left and gave the wolf a few
bites.  Alex ate out of his hand gently, licking his palm with a
rasping tongue.

He checked on the horse before settling down to sleep.  Alex's 
clothes were placed in the sack.  The fire was low now, stoked by
a few more pieces of wood to keep it going through most of the
night.  He bedded down on a soft patch of grass, snug within the
wool blanket he and Dana had packed the night before.

The wolf lay beside him providing comfort and company as well as
protection.  The fire would keep animals away, provide Walter with
some light now that the sky was dark with only a few stars peeking
through the copse of trees.

They weren't in the deep woods yet, still in the country though 
they were leaving the farmland behind them, yet it was not safe.
There was still the danger of wild animals and bandits roaming the
countryside.  Alex's animal instincts were finely tuned and he wasn't
worried.  As a soldier his lover was brave and alert to danger but in
animal form he was even more wary of people or animals approaching.
The wolf's senses were much greater than the most celebrated warrior.

Alex's eyes blinked at him sleepily as Walter's hand rubbed the soft
fur around his neck.  The animal panted happily at the attention and
poked his nose at Walter as Walter's hand stilled.  Walter startled,
shaken from a doze.  He chuckled as the wolf crept closer to him on
his belly and whimpered for attention.  Walter lay on his back 
inviting Alex to lie alongside him.  The wolf yawned, showing off his
long pink tongue and sharp teeth.

"Such a beautiful creature," Walter whispered.  He caressed the pelt
reassuringly and the wolf placed his head on Walter's chest.  
Walter's hand stilled again on his fur as sleep overtook them both.

The next morning Alex woke from his sleep at dawn, disturbed by
the change again taking place within him.  His sleepy eyes took in
Walter beside him, naked beneath the blanket.  Walter slipped out
of his covering and knelt on the ground.  In moments they were
transformed, Alex into man and Walter into eagle.  The bird ruffled
its feathers and lifted into the air with a cry.  He found a resting 
place nearby in the tangle of trees.

The fire was dead now, ashes blowing between the stones circling the
cold ground.

Alex sighed and crawled into the shelter of the blanket.  He nestled
within the warmth of the wool for a while longer, closing his tired
eyes and snuggling into the warmth that had been created by Walter's
body.  He could smell his lover within the wool.  His scent was 
comforting and wholly masculine, mixed with the smell of the clean
water he had bathed in and his musky cologne used to smother the 
scent of stale sweat when he couldn't bathe properly.

Mixed in with these was the smell of Alex himself, an earthy musky
smell, half human, half animal.  The former scent from his own 
body the last time they had made love in the unwashed blanket and
the latter from the fur that had covered his body last night.

The sun rose higher and reluctantly he left the comfort and security 
of the blanket and began to make breakfast.  He built the fire up
again to boil water for tea.  He found some sweet rolls Lady Dana
had packed and foraged for berries nearby that tempted him with 
their succulent ripe redness.  They were sweet and fresh and he
packed some for the journey ahead.  He also found an apple tree
not too far from where he had made camp and stole several of the
fruit.

While he ate he watched as the eagle soared soundlessly above him.
He only caught brief glimpses of him through the trees until he 
broke through a clearing in the canopy of green and landed in a
branch.  Gracefully he swooped down to the ground and successfully
speared his own meal-two sparrows too slow to evade capture by the
carnivorous bird.  Alex shuddered at the sight of the bird ripping 
its curved beak into the warm flesh.  He turned away from the blood,
soft feathers floating in the wind like seed pods and the uncooked
flesh.  He had heard too many stories growing up of desperate
people, starved to near death eating the flesh of dug up corpses.  
They had resorted to cannibalism out of desperation, in an effort to
stay alive, whether out of famine when crops failed or disastrous
weather had struck the land, wiping out their food supplies or 
preventing them from finding sustenance.

A mouse darted through the maze of flowers, tall grasses and
fallen leaves.  He hoped the bird hadn't seen it but it seemed he
was busy eating.  Alex sighed and shooed the mouse away.  He had
eaten such woodland creatures himself.  They certainly weren't as
tasty as a roasted chicken or suckling pig but the long journey from
his homeland to England had necessitated it.  He had heard of worse
things to eat.  People had resorted to eating bark, roots, grubs and 
other distasteful things before hunger forced them to eat the flesh 
of their own people.  Disease, famine and pestilence had sent many
to their graves before their time and unfortunately they served as
a food source to some as well.  He shuddered again and plucked a
piece of grass to chew on while he thought of something better to
occupy his mind.

He led the horse to the water to drink while he refreshed himself,
washing away the sweat that had gathered during the long ride the
day before.  He felt much better when he was clean and dressed.

When he finished preparing for departure he whistled.  The eagle came
to him immediately and attached itself to his arm.  The horse
whinnied, chewing the last of its own meal.  Alex led the horse into
a slow trot, enjoying the early sun on his face.

They stopped less frequently to rest but kept their bellies full and
their thirst sated as best as they could.  They left the farmland 
and countryside behind them as they entered virgin forest.

The gloom startled Alex but it was not unexpected.  The immense
trees kept the forest in half darkness.  The blue sky was visible
only in tiny patches where the leaves didn't blot it out.  Birds
chirped high up in the tree tops but were invisible to his human
eyes.  Animals scurried through the brush and leaves that littered
the ground.  The eagle was perched on Alex's shoulders as Alex
rode the horse at a brisk pace that kept the animal moving but
wouldn't tire him out.

The heavy sack was securely packed but swayed lightly as the horse
cantered through the dense wood.  The steady thump of the pack and
the horse's hooves lulled his nerves to steadiness without the 
quiver of anxiety that had first plagued Alex when they entered 
the forest.  He was ready to meet anyone else on his journey.  His
sword was newly sharpened and ready to be wielded.  A short dagger
was hidden in his boot and Walter's trusted sword was also at his
disposal.

They were making good time and he was getting tired so Alex stopped
for a little while.  He stopped only long enough to stretch his legs,
let Walter fly a bit in the immediate area, let the horse rest and 
drink at the same bubbling brook that followed a path in the woods
and he made a quick meal of cheese and bread to satisfy his stomach.
The bird found another woodland creature that was no match for his
cunning and quickness.  He fed on the plump bird quickly tearing
it up.  

Alex climbed back on the horse and tried to gauge the time of day
through the tiny bits of sky he could see.  He thought it was
probably late afternoon but couldn't be entirely sure.  He was
tired and they had ridden for hours.  He would have to find another
place to camp for the night.  Hopefully they could find a clearing
and the fresh water would follow them.  He needed to rest and eat
a proper meal as well as giving the horse time to renew its energy.

He was worried they wouldn't find anything suitable before nightfall.
His tired eyes searched ahead as he rode the horse at a steady but
gentle pace.  The bird was perched on his shoulder, digging its 
sharp claws into his heavy cape.

"Don't worry Walter, we'll find somewhere to camp even if we must
build a tree house."

The bird chirped in response.

You could go months tramping through the woods without seeing 
sunlight, never mind another human being.  Alex unlike most of the
people in the towns and villages, many of whom had never left their
own small village, liked to discover the unknown, whether it was
the primeval forest or to traverse a new town he had never set foot
in.

He had liked adventure since he was a child when his mother had 
gathered a few needed possessions, a sturdy horse and her lover and
had undertaken the journey across the continent, hiking across the
Carpathian mountains of their homeland and crossing the ocean until
they reached England where Emma, the gentle but strong Englishwoman
who had stolen his mother's heart and whom Alex addressed as aunt,
was from.

His mother had not spoken one word of the strange new language 
but she and Emma did not need words to express their attraction to
one another.  Gestures and laughter and smiling eyes did that.

When they needed to, they both dressed as men and wore daggers
which they were quite willing and able to use.  When his father had
died, his uncles had taught him the ways of the world, including
fighting, but his mother and aunt taught him survival, subterfuge
and perhaps most importantly, decency, compassion and love.

Alex's fond memories of those hard days when they traveled all
day and sometimes through the night, entering the forest where
not only wild animals prowled but all manner of monster, put a
smile on his face.

There had been no monsters.  No werewolves or vampires though he
had been warned of them time and again.  There were witches, surely
but they practiced the black arts only against those wicked people
who deserved to suffer.  He and Walter were good soldiers, fair and
just, and the only wickedness as far as he was concerned, was that
of the Bishop.

Alex nodded his head, in silent agreement with himself.  His ears
were attuned to any sound.  The forest was a frightening place,
thick with trees that had stood for perhaps hundreds of years, 
blotting the blue sky.  There were strange sounds coming from
within the interior, birds squawking and rodents scurrying, perhaps
wild pigs and foxes and even bears crashing through.

He gave himself a mental shake.  //Get a grip on yourself, boy.//
That's what Walter would say to him.  There was nothing more
frightening here than perhaps the threat of bandits lurking in the
woods looking for unsuspecting travelers carrying a horde of money
and dripping with jewels.

Alex laughed out loud and startled several birds roosting on a 
giant oak tree.  He scratched the eagle's head gently and smiled
at him.  //Nothing to be afraid of.  I found that out long ago.//

Although the people of the times worshipped at only one church,
many of them were still illiterate, knew practically nothing of the
bible and hung on to their superstitions like a rosary.  The tales
of goblins and werewolves, vampires ready to rise from the grave
and suck out their life's blood, vengeful ghosts who haunted the
living and incubi who would impregnate innocent maidens, were exactly
that, stories, to him.

In the months that they had trudged through Wallachia, traversing
the tiny villages that dotted the country, hearing the whispered 
horror stories of Vlad Tepes, who although monstrous and cruel, had
saved his countrymen from the invading Turks, climbing the Carpathian
mountains and Transylvanian alps, he had learned of the terrors 
that supposedly resided in the forest.  The very meaning of 
Transylvania was "beyond the forest".  True, he was taught to be
wary of the real dangers of bandits and murderers and he was 
respectful of the ghostly specters and spirits of the dead yet he was
not afraid of what he could not see although he had a healthy 
respect for those wandering spirits.  He had learned of the 
mischievous sprites, fairies and elves from Fox.  Those stores
were much more entertaining, innocent and joyful.

Emma had brought with her a healthy respect of the Catholic religion
but his mother always held to her folkloric beliefs, an interesting
mixture of the Latin and Slavonic influences on the much conquered
land, including the belief in the Striga, or witch.

Alex believed wholeheartedly in the supernatural and the spirit
owing to his mother and to his best friend Mulder.

Memories of the verdant forest overwhelmed him.  The beautiful
endless green trees, the bright wild flowers that sprouted in 
bunches, the slinking body of a weasel exploring a dead log, the
wide-eyed deer that startled at the sight of a little boy then leaped
away to safety, the snout of a fox intent on picking up the scent 
of his next meal, snuffling on the ground.

The winters had been brutal, the sky sending spirals of thick, white
snow down to the ground where it blanketed and blotted out any
sprig of green grass or bush.  They had sat around smoking fires
telling ghost stories and tales of Vlad and his heroism and ferocity.
Alex especially liked those stories that detailed the forbidding 
castles and fortresses that kept enemies out and featured winding
stairs, secret hiding places, sumptuous feasts and intricately 
woven blankets that kept one warm at night.  He imagined himself
living in such a place and commanding an army of soldiers and
servants.

He remembered the days spent traveling and stopping at a small
town for supplies, to rest and eat, the little games that Emma 
invented to save him from boredom, his quick mastery of the strange
language Emma spoke, the songs his mother sang, the silky sheen of
the horses as they cantered through dusty streets with the sun 
gleaming on their brushed coats, the sighs of his mother and Emma
in their bedrolls at night that he knew not to question but which 
made him squirm and yet comforted him at the same time.

They made camp for the night in a small shelter made of a big
boulder surrounded by several trees.  There was a patch of soft
grass here, the brook was close by, the big rock sheltered them
from the wind which had risen and they could observe the path for
fellow travelers.  Dinner was a bit of meat, some bread and cheese
and fresh fruit.  Alex and Walter went to bed early.  Because of 
the darkness of the forest, there was nothing left to do but roll
up within the blanket.

They traveled thus for several days, foraging always for food and
fresh water, keeping their eyes and ears open for travelers and
gypsies, wild animals and thieves.  They were lucky to find no one
crossing their path.

Mulder was concerned now for his friends.  His first instinct was
to unhitch his horse and follow their trail.  He had a copy of their
map and a rough itinerary.  It wouldn't be too difficult to find
them.  But he was worried about his patients and he certainly didn't
want to leave Dana alone.  She was carrying his child and although
he had Emily to help look after her as well as servants, friends and
family he could call on to watch over her, he didn't want to leave 
her behind.
 
He could possibly find someone to serve as a messenger, to give them
the news of Roderick's whereabouts.  He decided to give the matter
more thought.  He would speak to his wife and decide the best course
of action.

That evening as they ate their supper meal, he told Dana of the
new sighting of Roderick.  She questioned him thoroughly, wondering
if perhaps, like the devil, the rogue was seen everywhere and
nowhere.  Her husband chuckled at her dry wit and quick mind.  It
was just like Dana to be rational.

She was quite upset when he told her of his plan to join up with
his friends.

"You don't know exactly where they may be now, how far they've
traveled."

"I know this area like the back of my hand."

"William!" she cut him off, using his Christian name.  "I won't
allow it."

"But Dana if Roderick really is in London now, they must know.  They
are headed in the wrong direction and they will lose precious time
besides."

"Then I shall ride with you," she said firmly.

"You are with child.  We've already lost two.  You know the risk
involved.  You can't travel.  Please listen to me."

(Continued in part 2)

Part 2
See part 0 for story information.


Dana relented.  "All right.  But you must take John with you."

"John is afraid of his own shadow," Fox complained.  

"He is an excellent horseman and he will keep you company."

John was the stable hand, a quite capable horseman to be sure but
he was a rather nervous sort.

Fox knew he couldn't argue with his wife.  She was more stubborn
than he.  So he told John of his plans who readily agreed, gave
Dana notes on the treatment of several of his patients and packed 
that evening for their journey.  

It was a fortnight until they came to a small village and wearily
found a room at the local inn.  It was night time by now and so
Walter was human again.  He checked in and was shown his spacious
and fairly clean room by the owner's wench of a daughter.  Her
hair was blonde but dirty and probably ridden with lice, her cheeks
were pale and in the fire light Walter noted the scars from the pox
on her face, and her remaining teeth were gray with discoloration.
He supposed if a man closed his eyes she would be a treat in bed.
Unless of course she had a social disease on top of that.

He unpacked their possessions, took the leash and collar off of 
Alex (he told everyone Alex was a mix of wolf and dog, both pet
and body guard) and lay on the soft bed for a while.

He had supper brought up to him.  Again the wench served him.  Mary,
as virtuous a name as the woman was wanton, displayed her wares
when she bent over to place the tray on the scarred dresser.  She
smiled and blinked her lashes at Walter but he ignored her in favor
of the steaming meat pies and potatoes on the plate.  He practically
pushed her out the door.  They fed quickly, filling their empty
stomachs with the good food and fresh water Walter insisted on
having.  There was time for ale later in the tavern.

Walter went down to the tavern a bit later, after finishing every
bite on his plate, washing the good food down and resting.  He was
served a big mug of ale and began to engage in conversation with
the men at the table they shared.

The more the men drank the more anxious the wolf became.  They
were laughing boisterously, as single males do after a few pints
of ale.  The jokes became salacious and Walter's friend became
freer with his hands to the dismay of several of the women who
crossed too closely to him.

The female servants gathered their skirts closer to their legs. 
Their hands swatted at the men as they passed the tables.  They
were quite accustomed to dancing away from roving hands.  In fact,
every man in the place, save for the owner whose wife had eyes like
a hawk, groped the serving wenches, except for the balding gentleman
with the tame wolf.  Most, if not all, were disappointed.

The wolf thrust his cold, wet nose into Walter's thigh.  He nudged 
the man and growled lightly.  Walter petted him and slid his thick
fingers through his fur gently but firmly.  The wolf growled in
delight at the rough caress and jumped into Walter's lap with his 
paws braced on each thigh.

"He's a friendly sort isn't he?" George asked.  He slurred his words
and picked up his mug, downing the remaining contents in one audible
swallow.  He sucked at the foam and spit out the dregs.  They landed
on the floor with a little spat.  The sawdust soaked it up quickly.

"Aye, you don't know how friendly he can be," Walter said with a
leer.

His new friend George cocked his head at Walter.  He wasn't quite
sure he wanted to know what else the wolf hybrid was besides a
protective companion.  He shrugged his big shoulders.  He'd heard
of lonely shepherds and farm boys dallying with livestock but a 
docile wolf and dog mix?

Walter retired to his room with a spinning head and went to bed
without undressing.  Alex growled and finally settled down on the
rug on the floor.

The next morning Alex woke a bit stiff from his bed on the hard
floor but he did some stretches and a little exercise to crack his
bones and warm up his muscles.

He gazed at Walter with exasperation and smugness as he scolded
him for his carousing the night before.  "If you have a headache
and you can't fly right then you deserve it."

The eagle chirped indignantly as if he understood.

"I'll find us breakfast."

They rested and fed before moving on again.  Alex had asked after
the man they sought, the man with the book of spells who had been
working in concert with Spender.

After some time spent charming and cajoling the townspeople and
the innkeeper Alex found out the man's whereabouts.  He was
still traveling ahead of them.  

"When I find him I will break every single bone in his body and then
grind them to ashes until he undoes this cruel curse," Alex vowed.

Though he was reluctant to leave the village behind, they had to 
travel on.  Alex just hoped he wasn't turning in circles.  He had a
bad feeling deep in his gut about their path.

At least they had the light still.  The trees wouldn't hem them in
with their shadows until later.  Now he still had the brilliant
sky above his head.  The blue reminded him of the dazzling hue of
Dana's eyes, with just that touch of gray sadness.  He clucked at
the horse to trot a bit faster.

Walter stayed high above, circling the air at times and making a
mournful warning cry at any creatures that may come near them.
They stopped several times, in order to eat, rest and feed the horse.
Alex was grateful to the clear running stream he found.  The teasing
sound of the babbling brook was soothing to his ear and he gulped
in great mouthfuls of the cool water.

When Alex mounted his steed again, he felt calmer and rested. 
The horse's steady trot lulled him into a hypnotic state.  The cries
of animals and birds that came from the forest startled him now
and then.  Walter flew down in a great squawk and settled on Alex's
shoulder, carefully gripping Alex's heavy cloak with his sharp claws.

They were always in sync, right from the beginning, whether in
bed, shaking the sturdy frame until it threatened to collapse, or
on the battlefield.

Alex thought of their time together as soldiers.  They moved as one
unit, always looking out for the other.  The battles waged during
the wars of the Roses had sometimes been quite brutal but they
were never afraid as long as they were together.  Politics didn't
matter to either man, survival and living were.

The moans of the dying soldiers in Alex's memories haunted him.
After a battle was over they had gone through the sprawled and
bloodied bodies looking for survivors, killing those men that
were dying with a quick slice across the throat to end their agony
and carrying the wounded to the medics in hope of saving them.

Even though the sun glittered on the once emerald green grass and
the hills were burnished with the fierce light, still the scene was
gloomy  The battlefields were deadly quiet afterwards with only
the sounds of disturbed crows flying up from the carrion that were
once young men and then settling down again to peck at the cooling
flesh of the dead.  Their great black wings reminded him of angels
of death visited upon the earth.  Their raucous caws would echo
through the site as they still did in his mind.

Alex nearly fell off the horse as he heard the sound of the bird
behind him.  "Give me a heart attack, why don't you?" he muttered
and then righted himself.

It was as though, even in animal form, Walter could read his 
lover's morbid thoughts and wanted to extinguish the brutal scenes
and frightful dark memories from his mind.

Alex rubbed his cheek against the bird's face and sighed.  That was
as close to comfort as he'd get right now.



### The End ###

 Darkness and light, part 2 of 2 
by laurel 
laurelc@wincom.net 
 
Part 1
Please see part 0 (template) for story information.

Notes: Based on the movie Ladyhawke with Alex and Walter recast in
the title roles.  Mulder and several other familiar characters
appear.

Spoilers: AU, so therefore none, but Alex does lose his arm

Warnings: Angst ahead in this part

Archive: Okay to DitB, WWOMB, Full house slash, anyone else just
ask first.

They had bedded again for the night.  They had been held up for
several days by rain including a storm in which hailstones rattled
down on the trees.  It was a miserable time for both of them, 
foraging when the weather permitted but otherwise holed up in a
make shift shelter of fallen branches from oak trees which were
covered with pine branches that fanned over their shelter to provide 
cover from the rain.  

They were unaware they were close to a farm and not far from a 
small village.  They made themselves as comfortable as possible
and both fell into an exhausted sleep.

During the night Alex woke and rose from the bedroll to investigate
a noise.  The scents of wild animals spurred him on.  They were
so close to farmland that the smell encompassed chickens and hogs
as well as those of wild animals that lived in the woods such as
foxes and wild boars, hooting owls and scurrying mice.  

Even though he was careful on his sojourn so close to humanity 
the wolf unfortunately stepped right into a trap set for foxes intent
on devouring the inhabitants of the henhouse.  

The wolf shrieked and cried with the pain, his left leg painfully
and irrevocably trapped in the fierce jaws of the trap.  He howled
and tried in vain to lift his leg up.  

All the commotion woke up Walter, made their horse whinny and
stamp his feet and eventually the farmer's sleep was disturbed too.

Walter knew it was Alex.  He stuffed his shoes on hurriedly and
grabbed the short sword, running towards the source of the terrible
noise. 

The farmer had his own weapon with him and wielded it in front of
him while screaming about his chickens.  The yelling and howling 
roused the farm animals so that the din seemed so loud as to be heard
in the next county.  

Walter found Alex in the trap and his heart leapt at the agony on
his face.  He tried to gentle the struggling animal.  "It's all right
now.  I'm here.  I'll get you out of there but you must try to stay
quiet so that I can think."  He approached warily, studying the trap
in the bright light of a full moon.

The farmer found his trap and a tall, broad man hovering over it.
"Who the hell are you?"

"Who are you?  Is this your barbarous trap?"

"This is my property.  Now get off of it before I start swinging
this sword and take your head clear off!"

Walter stood up from where he knelt and menaced the man with his 
own sword and his dark countenance.  "This is my wolf and I'll see
you in this vicious trap first myself!"

The farmer was taken aback.  "What do you mean it's your wolf?
Why, it's a bloody wild animal, a demon who would eat my livestock
and myself included!  He can damn well rot in that trap and show
his kind a good lesson to stay clear of my farm!"

Walter whipped the sword up so that the edge brought droplets of
blood to the surface of his neck.  "Help me get him out of there.
He's a domesticated hybrid and my companion.  Pry it open or I'll
put you in his place."

The farm's face blanched so that he resembled a full moon himself.

After several minutes of hard struggle they managed to open the
trap and the wolf limped away, whimpering.  He lay on the ground
gingerly licking at his hurt leg.

Walter demanded his way into the house and carried Alex inside.
It looked as though the leg was broken.  The farmer was forced to
rouse the village doctor.  He made his reluctance known but did as
Walter bid.

Walter put a blanket beneath the injured leg and examined it,
carefully wiping blood away with a towel soaked in water.  He kept
pressure on it even though Alex whimpered and cried.  Walter tried to
soothe him the best he could. 

The farmer took a long time to return and the doctor was quite
perturbed at being roused at such a late hour.  He was scared
motionless at the sight of the wolf.  "What in God's name?" he
finally managed to whisper.  "I'm a doctor, man.  I won't examine
a horse much less a wild beast."

Walter jumped off the bed and took hold of the doctor's tunic
He twisted it around the physician's neck until his face resembled
a turnip's dull color.   "He is not a wild beast!  You will examine
and care for him as though he were human otherwise I'll stuff you
into that trap.  Now get to it!"

The doctor was apoplectic.  He spent a minute huffing and muttering
under his breath, organizing his clothes and soothed his rattled 
nerves with liquid courage.  

Walter shoved him forward, impatient with his delays and tossed
the man's medical bag at him.  Walter then kicked his legs out from
under him so that he collapsed to his knees, now at eye level with
the wolf.  He gave Walter a dirty look but the dark glare the man
fixed on him made him gulp and hastily open the bag.  

His touch was wary and therefore gentle as he felt the left leg.
"It's broken," he pronounced.  

"I knew that.  Can you mend it?"

"It's beyond broken.  It's crushed.  Best to put the animal out of
its misery."  He turned to the farmer.  "Is this the thief that's
been stealing your chickens?"

The man shrugged.  "It may have been.  Serves the bastard right,"
he said self-righteously

Walter's anger grew with each off-hand remark until he reddened
with rage and screamed at both men.  "He didn't kill any of your
damned livestock!  We only came here this evening to bed down
for the night and if he dies I promise you will both join him!"

The farmer and doctor shrank back in terror.

"Fix him, damn you!"

"But he can't be fixed.  His leg is crushed.  I wouldn't be able
to set it.  If you want I could take the leg.  There is a small
chance he could survive the amputation and heal.  After all, there's
a three-legged dog in town.  Little Willie is his name.  He got
run over by a carriage and lost his leg but it was a clean wound
and he survived the accident and adapted to running around on 
just three legs.  The wolf may be able to adapt too."

Walter grew pale.  "No, you cannot do that."

"I can give you some ointment to apply to the leg afterwards to
prevent infection and a potion to keep him quiet and free from
pain while he heals."

"Just give me some medicine and I'll take care of him.  How close
is the village?  I'll need a carriage in which to carry him and I 
will stay at the local inn until he starts to heal."

The doctor was startled, both by the refusal to amputate the leg
and at the angry man's request to bring the beast to an inn in 
order to recuperate.

"I'll let you have my carriage to rent for a price," The farmer
offered.  "Of course I'll also factor in the cost of that ruined 
towel and blanket as well as waking me in the middle of the night
and all the trouble you've caused."

Walter threw some coins at him.  They fell in his feet in a 
sprinkle of dull gold.  "I hope that'll do," he replied coldly.
"Stay right here until I return with our belongings and my horse."  

Walter retrieved their clothes, food and other provisions, packed
everything tightly in their sacks along with his long jeweled sword
and set out back in the direction of the farm on Alex's horse.

He wrapped Alex up after the doctor administered the sleeping potion
and loaded him into the carriage.  He followed the doctor to town in
the pitch black night.

Walter spent the night taking care of Alex.  He slept on peacefully
with the aid of the potion.  As he slept, Walter penned a letter,
carefully outlining everything that had transpired.  His hand shook
and his eyes blurred several times but he blinked the tears out of
them.  The ink smudged and dripped in places.

It was only when he was finished that he curled up under the covers,
carefully holding Alex, that he gave in to his emotions and wept.
His sobs echoed in the tiny room.

****************************************************

Luckily Mulder showed up by the next day.  They had gone by an
alternate route when the arthritis in John's bones indicated rain and
they managed to side track the weather pattern.  

His instinctive sense of direction and a sense of dread had spurred
him to ride long into the nights, even when John had begged him
to stop for lodging in comfortable inns which were brightly lit
with warming fires.

Alex was still asleep and unaware of what had happened. The news
of the incident was consuming the residents of the village and in
stopping for only a short and quick breakfast, Mulder and John 
learned of what had happened and instantly surmised that Walter
and Alex had been the unlucky visitors.  Mulder inquired politely
after the odd couple and found their location.

John fainted dead away and collapsed on the floor at the sight of
the bloody bandages wrapped around Alex's arm.  Fox paled and gasped,
stopping only long enough to place a pillow beneath John's head
before he went to examine Alex.

On the bedside table was Walter.  The bird clucked in an agitated
tone, but quieted at Mulder's presence.  

He slowly unraveled the bandages and was sickened by the sight.
The clean up was done well and he could smell the strong scent of
antiseptic ointment the wound had been smeared with.  The limb was
crushed, the bone broken and his flesh was torn and looked angry
even though it was no longer bleeding.

He fumbled through his cloth sack that held medicinal supplies.
He was dead tired from the long and arduous journey and the
horrible news of Alex's accident compounded his already guilty
conscience. 

He found a pot of the ointment he used as an antiseptic and
carefully applied it.  He rewrapped the wound in clean, dry dressings
and pinned the cloth carefully.

John woke from his faint with a groan and Fox called the serving
boy to fetch some cold water.  He opened the window so that the 
bird could fly a while and perhaps feed as well.

When Alex finally awoke, he was disoriented and feverish.  He was
surprised at Mulder and John's appearance and looked at his bandaged
arm in dismay when he regained his senses from the induced sleep.
He sat up with his friend's help and touched his arm briefly.  "What
happened?"

"There's a letter Walter left you.  Here, read it."

Alex let out a sigh that held tears when he finished.  Fox sent the
boy to get food and more water, carefully shielding the inside of
the room so that he wouldn't see a man, instead of a wolf lying 
there.

Fox told him haltingly of his diagnosis.  The arm could not be
saved.  The longer they waited to remove it, the stronger the chance
of infection and eventually death.

Fox managed to get some food into Alex, who was now listless and
depressed over his condition.  Fox's tears fell into his soup and
he knew he couldn't swallow past the lump in his throat.

He began to cry and slid down onto the floor as the sobs shook him.
"I'm so sorry Alex.  This is my fault."

Alex petted his thick hair.  "No it isn't.  It was an accident that
no one could have foreseen."  He smiled wanly.  "I would sacrifice
myself one thousand times over so that the bishop wouldn't harm
your daughter or wife.  God only knows what he is capable of.  As a
matter of fact I'm surprised the church doesn't fall down on his head
at God's command," he joked.  "I've heard rumors of the sorts of 
deeds he has committed and he makes the Borgia family's exploits look
like child's play.  Do not distress yourself further.  You need to
remain strong for your wife and the child she is carrying.  And I
need you to help look after me and Walter."

Fox was inconsolable.  "Please forgive me Alex.  I cannot bear it.
If it wasn't for Dana, Emily and the child I hope she will carry to
term as well as the hope of finding a cure for this awful affliction
I should have killed myself already."

Alex joined him on the floor and hugged him.  "Hush now.  If you
tried to harm yourself I'd kill you myself.  No more talk like that.
You will do what needs to be done and we shall find this Roderick
and together we will wring the spell from his throat to reverse this
curse."  

Fox dried his tears on the bedding and helped Alex back into bed.
He began to mix the tea that would put Alex to sleep.

John entered with dinner trays and opened the window to let Walter
back inside.  One grim look at the doctor and he knew a decision
had been made.

John excused himself before Walter and Alex changed and went for
a long walk in the village.

Fox had a difficult conversation with Walter, dissolving into tears
again as he explained the prognosis after the operation was complete.
Walter asked only a few questions but otherwise was his silent, 
gruff self.  He kept vigil over the wolf all night, finally falling
into an exhausted sleep just a couple of hours before daybreak.

Fox was still asleep when Alex woke.  John was up and in
anticipation of his needs.  He helped him shave and wash his 
face then brought him some breakfast.  They ate in near silence,
John cutting up his food when Alex needed help.  Alex wrote a
letter to Walter of his decision.  

Fox woke late, cursing at himself for having slept so long but Alex
didn't begrudge him.  His friend was exhausted.  It was evident 
in his blood shot eyes and the smudges underneath them.  After
a short breakfast he asked Fox to find the deck of cards in his
sack and so indulged him in games of chance all afternoon.

When the sun set Alex changed form, though he was unaware of it,
being unconscious from the sleeping potion.  Fox handed Walter
the letter after he'd dressed.  John fetched supper for all three
of them.

Walter folded it and sighed heavily.  Fox's eyes filled with tears
at Walter's deep sorrow but he remembered Alex's words and he
straightened his shoulders and wiped his tears away.

Walter knew that Alex had reached the decision through logic.
It was the only way to save his life.  He agreed that was the most
important point.  Anything to keep him alive.  He would adapt to
his disability.  Alex could survive anything.  He had journeyed far
to this part of the world and he was a good soldier, a quick learner
and above all else a survivor.  They would face this great hurdle
together.  And yes, he penned in his letter back to Alex that John
sealed so that it was for his eyes only, he would still love him 
even with just one arm.

Fox had sent John to fetch his brother Richard.  It was less than
a day's journey.  Richard had once apprenticed to be his assistant
before he had set off on his own.  It was a loss for Fox because
he had proven to be quite adept and though he was working now with
an apothecary his skills were far from rusty.

The tall gaunt man had long blond hair, which he pulled back from his
face.  He was the exact opposite of his brother, who was quiet and
introverted.  Richard by comparison was extroverted, bordering on
boisterous.

He had been briefed as to the needs of the doctor and told of the
spell cast upon their friends and the subsequent terrible accident
that had necessitated the surgery.

On the journey back, John told his brother of his courtship with
Mary, a pretty, shy maiden in the village.  Richard wasn't settled
yet since it was difficult to find a woman to match his intellectual
endeavors and his intense emotional mind but he didn't lack for
female company.  He had taken a page from their older brother
Melvin in that respect.

Walter was present for the operation.  John brought out Fox's tools
and cleaned them while the physician mixed medicines.  Walter made
another jug of sleeping potion at Fox's instructions.

John excused himself during the actual amputation.  He couldn't
stand the sight of blood.  Richard hid his smile at his brother's
delicate stomach.

Fox spoke quietly, as he asked Richard for various instruments,
for dressings and ointments.  His voice was lower than his usual
monotone which made Richard strain to hear him.  Together they
wrapped the remaining part of his limb, which was smeared with
healing ointments.

They were at a loss as to what to do with the arm.  It couldn't
simply be discarded.  Perhaps they could hold a funeral service.

Walter watched over Alex all night, finally falling into an 
exhausted sleep just a few hours before dawn.  Richard stayed on
with them for several days before returning home.  He planned on
visiting Melvin before he returned to his village so that he could
bring him news of John's life.

After a few weeks had passed in which time the three men took
great care of Alex, they decided to journey on to London, to find
Roderick and confront the bishop.

The trio headed east.  Fox sent Richard homeward to tell Dana
the news about Alex's condition and their plans.  They left under
cover of night.  Alex was much better, his fever had subsided and
the arm was healing but he was still weak.  

They were stopped by the guards who took great pains to search
their carriage.  They were startled by the sight of the wolf in the
back.  The guards interrogated Fox and Walter at length and the
wolf was shoved into a cage where he snarled and growled in protest.

The guards were amused by the beast's fury, but not for long, as a
nip to one guard's finger taught him to keep his hands clear.

Fox and Walter were hauled away screaming and shouting.  Fox was
locked up quickly and Walter was much more reluctant.  He broke
free from the burly guards that surrounded him and screamed until the
tendons stood out on his thick neck.  He barreled down the hallway
with the bloodied and bruised guards in pursuit.  He called out Alex's
name and heard an answering howl but before he could find him he
was tackled by what felt like the whole English Army.  He was dragged
away kicking and cursing and thrown into a cell.

"Go tell the bishop Walter is here and he would like an audience with
him.  Damn you all to hell if anything happens to the wolf!"

The guards cursed him right back and nursed their wounds.  One had
a broken nose which only added to his ugly looks, another a split
lip and dislocated shoulder and the other two had cracked ribs.

Spender snapped at the messenger for not bringing word of his
visitors at once and fetched a guard to bring Alex to him the 
following morning.  The man was startled by the appearance of a
naked man crammed in the cage where a wolf had once paced and
snarled.  

Alex asked for food, water and a chance to relieve himself and 
perhaps wash up.  

"What sort of witchcraft is this?" the guard asked in a hushed voice.

"The worst sort.  Now fetch me something to eat if you please.  I'm
quite famished."

The guard allowed him to bathe with a damp towel and urinate.
He brought him a cup of water as well and performed these tasks
with a wary eye on the prisoner as if he might turn into a wild
animal again at any moment.

"You can eat with the bishop.  He has a feast being prepared."

The bishop was delighted at the sight of a naked Alex.  The guard
had provided him with only a blanket but no clothes.  The boy
looked a little thin but that could be quickly remedied with the
sumptuous meals his chef prepared.  He twisted his heavy gold
ring and feasted his eyes on his prize.  He had expected a visit
from Alex or his brute of a lover sooner.  He had increased his
bodyguards in case of an unexpected visit from either of them and
the expected retribution.

"Here my boy, eat something."  The bishop fanned his hands over
the table laden with food.  Alex picked up an apple and bit into
it all the while glaring at Spender.  He washed it down with more
water then picked up a rich pastry.  When he was finished, he let
the blanket fall from his shoulders.

Spender gasped.  "What is this?  What's happened to your arm?"

"You happened.  While I was in wolf form I stepped into a trap
outside a farmhouse and Fox had to amputate it!  Look at it!
Don't turn your face away, my lord," he said sarcastically.  "Take
a good look at what you've done to me."  Alex undid the gauze
and stepped towards the bishop menacingly.  "You have caused
nothing but grief to me, Walter, Fox and his family.  Now you will
tell me Roderick's whereabouts so that he can reverse the curse."

"But I cannot."  The bishop cringed and stepped back.

"You will tell me now.  Either way you are a dead man."  Alex
looked at the ceremonial spears hanging from the wall.  

Spender followed his gaze.  He was going to call for his guards
posted outside but Alex had seized him by the throat with his 
remaining hand and no sound emerged.

Alex released his hold long enough to let the man speak.  "He
is dead.  I had him killed," Spender confessed.

Alex's eyes held tears of utter despair but also rage and his fist
once again closed on Spender's neck.

Fox raced down the corridor with two guards in pursuit.  He had
tricked the guard who had brought him water and stale bread into
the cell and managed to lock the man inside.  He had then found
Walter and unlocked his cell door.

Now they were both being chased down the hallway, Fox racing like
a marathon runner and the eagle flying just above his head.  They 
managed to evade their pursuers and they found the Bishop's
apartment.

Fox struggled with the bodyguards while the eagle pecked and
clawed at the men's faces until they ran in the opposite direction.
Fox burst in, out of breath and heaving with his exertions and the 
eagle flew inside and shrieked.  

The bishop's face was turning purple.  Alex's face was set in stone,
cold and pale as he slowly killed him.

"Alex, no, they will execute you!" Fox warned.

"It doesn't matter Fox.  Roderick is dead and there is no way to
reverse the curse.  I will kill the bishop, then myself.  You must
kill Walter while he is still in bird form.  I cannot bear to do it
and you must do me this final favor."  Alex turned to look at his
friend.  The latter had been spoken so quietly and his expression
so resigned that Fox found himself nodding.

The bishop was now on his knees as if praying.  His face was colored
in shades of red and purple and he gasped for air.

Behind them the sun shone brilliantly through the stained glass
windows, setting the room on fire.  Above them a small glass
window set into the ceiling let the fierce light inside as well
but in the next moment a dark shadow fell across the rug and they
all looked up and around them.  A shadow crossed the sun and
eclipsed its white orb.  

Alex let go of the bishop while he stood in wonder.  Fox gasped.
"It is an eclipse."  The bird squawked nervously on his roost at
Spender's splendid desk.  In moments the room was black.  Alex
wondered if the world was coming to an end.  If so, he hoped it
would bring them peace and that he would be reunited with Walter
in heaven.   The bishop gasped like a dying fish on his expensive 
rugs and felt his bruised flesh.

The shadow glided past the sun and the light returned.  The room
was again flooded with brilliant light and the red and blue tones
of the stained glass was cast against the walls.

Spender cowered on the rug.  Perhaps God had seen his wicked ways
and was warning him to stop.  He looked at Alex's bare feet and
reached a hand out to touch the pale skin.

"Don't touch him," a deep gruff voice instructed.

Alex turned around and saw Walter sitting on the desk.  He gasped
at the sight of his lover sitting there naked and in human form.
Fox began to cry at the sight.  He looked up at the ceiling glass
and clasped his hands together.  "The spell is broken.  It is a 
miracle."  Alex began to cry silently, tears spilling down his cheeks
as he gazed at his beloved.

Spender struggled to get up.  Walter was the only one who seemed
capable of action and so he grabbed one of the spears from the wall
and with all his might he slammed the point into Spender who was
still kneeling on the floor.  The weapon was thrust into him through
to his spine.  He groaned once and then slumped forward.

Walter wiped away the blood that had spattered on him and turned to
Alex.  Even with one arm he was magnificent.  His muscle tone was
softened by his time spent recuperating and the arm was still tender
and raw where his arm abruptly ended and even with tears flooding
his sea green eyes, he was the most beautiful sight he had ever seen.

Alex cried out wordlessly at seeing Walter whole and human again.
Walter raised his arms and Alex ran into his embrace.  He hastily
wiped the tears from his eyes.  Walter's figure had become blurry
through the moisture and he wanted to feast his eyes on his love.

Walter hugged him tightly and Alex responded by nuzzling into
Walter's neck and smelling his familiar scent.  They made wordless
noises of joy and longing.  Fox quietly retreated to the hallway to
give them privacy.  He raised his eyes heavenward again and thanked
God, the spirits, Mother Nature, whoever was responsible for 
bringing them back together again.

The guards let the trio leave.  After all, no one could stomach the
bishop and his cruel nature.  Another, hopefully less obnoxious and
dangerous one would take his place.

They found clothing for Alex and Walter and retreated to the comfort
and safety of a nearby inn.  News of the bishop's demise spread
quickly and not many mourned his passing.  Already his successor
was preparing his thank you speeches and a eulogy.

Fox went to his comfortable room next door and flopped onto the
bed, falling into an exhausted sleep.

Walter sent the innkeeper's son to fetch a big breakfast.  A long
overdue celebration was to be held.  He tenderly fed Alex by hand
as his lover had once done for him.  They ate pastries and rolls,
fresh eggs scrambled in rich butter, sausages and hams and drank
them all down with clear, cold water as if they were thirsting in the
desert.

Alex cuddled into Walter's embrace and sighed with deep longing
now sated.  He would never leave his lover's arms again.  Walter
read the letter he had written back, ending with the thought that
Alex wanted to hear most: he would love him forever, even with
one arm.

Alex wiped his tears away and sat up on the bed.  "Show me again
how much you love me," he commanded in a voice grown husky with
desire and emotion.  "Make love to me."

"You are still weak," Walter protested.

"Does this look weak to you?" Alex asked and gripped his hardening 
cock.

Walter smiled and laughed at his lover's entreaty.  "No, it most 
certainly does not."  Walter grabbed the thick shaft in his hand
and squeezed it gently until a pearl of fluid emerged from the
slit.  Alex groaned and fell forward into his arms.

Walter kissed him deeply.  It had been so long since he had touched
his lips and it was a revelation to feel them on his mouth again.
He let Alex stay on top, cradling him now that he had just one
arm to balance with.  They nuzzled and kissed each other, exploring
each other's bodies as if they were novices at love, finding all 
those places that made them sigh and squirm and groan in pleasure.

Walter pushed Alex down onto the soft bed and slid down his body
to kiss his chest and stomach, ending at the quivering cock that
bobbed enticingly before him.  He suckled the thick shaft, then
kissed his way down to his strong thighs and nibbled the skin there
where it was most sensitive.  He made Alex moan and shiver with
delight until his lover tugged at him.  He knew what Alex wanted
and looked around for something they could use as a lubricant.

There was a blob of butter on the plate so he scooped that up.
The substance was rich and slippery.  He applied a generous amount
to Alex's tight hole and was rewarded with a cry of pleasure as he
breached the passage.  

Alex was sobbing with pleasure and urging him up frantically by
the time he was thoroughly relaxed and coated with the rich butter.

Walter pulled his legs up and let them wrap around his waist,
found his opening and ever so tenderly and gently, entered his
lover.  Alex groaned as he pushed in smoothly and urged him to thrust
deeper and harder.  

He wrapped his arm around Walter's neck and began to kiss and
nip at his lover's face and throat.  He could never get enough of
Walter's kisses.  His rich earthy scent, now mingled with their
combined sweat and the musky smell of the often used room where
unwashed lovers had tumbled in the sheets urged him on to higher
levels of pleasure.  He moaned in Walter's ear and pushed up
violently, meeting each downward thrust of Walter's until the bed
shook and threatened to collapse.  It wouldn't be the first bed
they'd broken and it probably wouldn't be the last.

Alex came first, howling and crying like a farm cat in heat.  Walter
couldn't resist the tight ass clenching around his cock and shouted
his own completion.  He collapsed on Alex, mindful of his still
healing arm.  

They were too spent to speak and simply lay together, breathing
heavily and sighing, nuzzling and kissing gently until Walter
finally rolled off of him and set about cleaning up the mess they'd
made.

They had fresh water to clean themselves off and untangled the
bed sheets into a semblance of order.  Alex settled against Walter's
comforting muscular body and wrapped himself around him, their
legs tangled together.  Walter chuckled at the satisfied grin on his
lover's face.  He had seen the male cats that farmers employed to
keep the mice population down and it looked something like that.

Epilogue:

Dana gave birth the following spring after an uneventful pregnancy.
It was a boy they named William, after his father and grandfathers.
Fox was so proud of his healthy son that his wailing in the middle
of the night brought smiles to his face rather than cursing for
having been woken.  Dana and Emily doted on the boy and she and
Fox took his birth as a sign to try for another child.  They 
certainly practiced enough for the odds to be in their favor.

Alex healed remarkably well and adapted to his disability with
grace and patience.  He and Walter bought a farm near Fox's home
and the former soldiers retired there to raise chickens and grow
vegetables.  Alex took an interest in the medical field and devoted
some of the garden to medicinal plants, to Fox's delight.  

John married his maiden and Mary was with child a few months
after the ceremony.  

Richard and Melvin moved to the village to be close to their brother,
the only family they had left and they both broke the hearts and
hymens of several maidens.  Neither of them would settle down
easily with one woman.  Richard went into practice again with Fox
and Melvin was busy as always juggling women and money making
schemes.  

They had a proper burial for Alex's arm and from time to time he
would visit the site to mourn what he had lost.  Walter was always
there to help him stand up and wipe away the inevitable tears and
together they would walk home, Walter singing ballads to his love,
their faces to the sun as it shone fiercely before it inevitably 
set.  Their sorrow was always assuaged by the fact that it would
rise again in the morning and they would face the world again
together.



### The End ###