Original: "Don't bite back, baby" het
Summary: Gunner isn't afraid of things that go bump in the night - he's more concerned about the engagement ring in his pocket. Unfortunately, tonight his sweetheart isn't the only thing lurking in the dark.
Also, new Snuggle theme! It's so cute! :D
~
Gunner was nervous. Most people were, when they went walking down dark, forest paths in the middle of the night. But that wasn’t why he was so jumpy. No, the dark midnight walks were pretty normal for Gunner.
What wasn’t normal was the small, silver engagement ring sitting heavy in his pocket. He’d debated over buying it for over an hour, walking away from the small market stall only to find his feet carrying him back again, like water flowing down a hill. Now, half a day later, his calloused fingers were still constantly straying to smooth over his pants to make sure the ring was still there in its little paper packet. There was a rustle on his left, and Gunner jumped guiltily, snatching his fingers away.
“You seem nervous,” said a low, female voice on his other side, and Gunner jumped again on reflex, before turning to face the most beautiful woman on this side of the mountain, and maybe beyond.
“Ash,” he breathed, and she caught his hands to pull him into a kiss, her lips as full and wild and sweet as the forest around them. Her long, dark hair was tangled with moss and twigs, and he pulled back to whisper, “You smell like juniper berries,” before she kissed him again and pulled him into a tight hug.
“I didn’t want to stop to hunt, so they’re all I ate on my way home,” she murmured against his shoulder. “I never want to eat another juniper berry again.”
“I’m glad you’re back,” he said, squeezing her again before stepping back. She was in what he though of as her woods outfit, with the inappropriately well-fitted leggings and tunic, a bow and arrows on her back, and a hunting dagger at her hip. It was as day to night to what she wore when she came in to town to sell mushrooms and herbs at the market and attend church - the grey, full-length dresses that all the women wore, her wild hair neatly pleated into braids.
He much preferred her this way. It suited her better.
“How was your trip? Your family is well?” he asked, as they began to walk down the path, still holding hands.
Ash made a sour face. “They’re well. We talked. Well,” she laughed a little bitterly, “Argued, more like. But I think we each said what needed to be said.”
“I’m sure things will work out,” he offered optimistically, but Ash just shook her head.
“Enough about that. How have things at the shop been? What’s the latest gossip? Tell me all the things I’ve missed!”
Gunner laughed, and pretended to look around furtively, before he whispered, “Alice has been seen snogging the cowherd!” in the tones of great scandal.
Ash snorted. “Those two have been doing much more than snog these past few months. Anything else?”
“Nothing interesting. Got an order for four and thirty quivers to help outfit the Duchy, and a new pair of shoes for the Mayor.”
“Gunner, that’s great!” Ash cried, as if leather-work was something to get excited over. Still, her words pleased him, and again he found himself wondering how he’d ever been lucky enough to end up with her. His fingers again strayed to the ring in his pocket... and that’s when all hell broke loose.
With sudden snarl, a dark shape leapt out of the brush at him, a heavy weight slamming into his side - a searing pain as teeth dug into his forearm - Ash’s angry shout and the flash of steel - and then the creature was bounding back off into the darkness.
Ash’s worried face flashed before him, and he squinted at her as if from a bright light, even though he knew it was dark out. Something was... off, and not just the blood under his hand. Ash swam in and out of his vision, cutting off his shirt sleeve and chanting something low and smokey under breath, painting cold streaks of mud and moss across the bridge of his nose and down his cheekbones. It was strange, but if it would take the worried expression off her face, Gunner didn’t care, so he shut his eyes and fell into a fitful sleep.
But when he woke up briefly - hours or minutes or days later, he couldn’t tell - feverish and delirious in a strange cabin, Ash didn’t look any happier.
“It didn’t work. You’re a werewolf now,” she told him sadly before she forced some water down his throat and he fell asleep again.
~
When Gunner next awoke, he was alone. Werewolf, he thought, and shivered. He was a doing-person, he liked to fix things with his hands, with strength and hard work and determination.
Turning into a wolf wasn’t something he knew how to fix.
Oh God, he was a monster. He’d have to run away, find someone who could cure him though he knew no such cure existed. He could leave the village behind, but Ash... his dreams of marrying her seemed silly now. What if he were to harm her? The attack last night was certainly unprovoked, and Gunner would rather die than hurt Ash.
There was only one solution.
“We should stop seeing each other,” Gunner told Ash stiffly, when she next came to his side with a bowl of hot soup and fresh bandages. She looked stunned, even hurt, and Gunner felt a pang at the cruel necessity of his words before her face hardened.
Ash put the soup down on the table beside him, and held up a familiar looking silver ring.
“You had this ring in your pocket,” she said. Gunner snatched for it with his good hand, but Ash was too quick for him - yanking it just out of reach and smacking his hand like he was a naughty child.
“Don’t touch it, you idiot,” she snapped. “It’s silver, it’ll burn you.”
“Since when were you a werewolf expert,” Gunner retorted angrily, feeling foolish and defensive. Last night, that ring had meant so much to him. And now...
Ash barked a quick laugh. “Oh, you have no idea. But I get the feeling this ring was meant for me anyways.”
Gunner said nothing, instead choosing to begin angrily undoing the bandage around his left forearm with his right hand. It hurt, but it was better than where this conversation was headed.
Ash refused to be distracted.
“You bought me a ring,” she emphasized, her voice steadily rising in volume, “And now you want to ‘stop seeing each other’? Excuse me, but what the hell are you thinking!?”
“I’m a leather worker, Ash!” he yelled back, “The best I could ever hope to give you is a nice little cabin! You deserve better, and you know it!”
“We’ve had this discussion before, Gunner! You know I don’t care about any of that!”
“Yeah, well, I do! And now I’m not just leather worker, I’ve a vicious savage beast, and come the next moon I’ll probably be killing sheep and- and rutting with sheepdogs, and-”
Gunner stopped, because Ash had the absolute gall to start laughing at him.
“You have no idea what werewolves are like at all,” she wheezed, wiping a few tears from her eyes, before turning serious. “Gunner, werewolves might have the instincts of wolves, but they’re still people. You don’t lose control, not the way you’re thinking. The one last night - he was not right.” She took his wounded hand in hers, and gently began to finish removing the bandages. “I know these woods, and I know werewolves. The next full moon is weeks away. So before you make any rash decisions, at least give me the chance to show you that being a werewolf isn’t the end of the world.”
Gunner winced as she pulled off the old dressing and began applying the new one. The wound didn’t look too bad. He could probably start using it in another week, would need to if he was to get that order of quivers finished. And he owed it to Ash.
“A chance,” he agreed, and she wrapped him up again and gave him the soup.
“Now, do I get to keep the ring?”
Gunner swallowed thickly, and nodded. “It was meant for you,” he told her, dipping the spoon in the broth and coming up with celery and carrots, and a juniper berry.
“I know,” Ash said, and slipped it on her finger.
Also, new Snuggle theme! It's so cute! :D
~
Gunner was nervous. Most people were, when they went walking down dark, forest paths in the middle of the night. But that wasn’t why he was so jumpy. No, the dark midnight walks were pretty normal for Gunner.
What wasn’t normal was the small, silver engagement ring sitting heavy in his pocket. He’d debated over buying it for over an hour, walking away from the small market stall only to find his feet carrying him back again, like water flowing down a hill. Now, half a day later, his calloused fingers were still constantly straying to smooth over his pants to make sure the ring was still there in its little paper packet. There was a rustle on his left, and Gunner jumped guiltily, snatching his fingers away.
“You seem nervous,” said a low, female voice on his other side, and Gunner jumped again on reflex, before turning to face the most beautiful woman on this side of the mountain, and maybe beyond.
“Ash,” he breathed, and she caught his hands to pull him into a kiss, her lips as full and wild and sweet as the forest around them. Her long, dark hair was tangled with moss and twigs, and he pulled back to whisper, “You smell like juniper berries,” before she kissed him again and pulled him into a tight hug.
“I didn’t want to stop to hunt, so they’re all I ate on my way home,” she murmured against his shoulder. “I never want to eat another juniper berry again.”
“I’m glad you’re back,” he said, squeezing her again before stepping back. She was in what he though of as her woods outfit, with the inappropriately well-fitted leggings and tunic, a bow and arrows on her back, and a hunting dagger at her hip. It was as day to night to what she wore when she came in to town to sell mushrooms and herbs at the market and attend church - the grey, full-length dresses that all the women wore, her wild hair neatly pleated into braids.
He much preferred her this way. It suited her better.
“How was your trip? Your family is well?” he asked, as they began to walk down the path, still holding hands.
Ash made a sour face. “They’re well. We talked. Well,” she laughed a little bitterly, “Argued, more like. But I think we each said what needed to be said.”
“I’m sure things will work out,” he offered optimistically, but Ash just shook her head.
“Enough about that. How have things at the shop been? What’s the latest gossip? Tell me all the things I’ve missed!”
Gunner laughed, and pretended to look around furtively, before he whispered, “Alice has been seen snogging the cowherd!” in the tones of great scandal.
Ash snorted. “Those two have been doing much more than snog these past few months. Anything else?”
“Nothing interesting. Got an order for four and thirty quivers to help outfit the Duchy, and a new pair of shoes for the Mayor.”
“Gunner, that’s great!” Ash cried, as if leather-work was something to get excited over. Still, her words pleased him, and again he found himself wondering how he’d ever been lucky enough to end up with her. His fingers again strayed to the ring in his pocket... and that’s when all hell broke loose.
With sudden snarl, a dark shape leapt out of the brush at him, a heavy weight slamming into his side - a searing pain as teeth dug into his forearm - Ash’s angry shout and the flash of steel - and then the creature was bounding back off into the darkness.
Ash’s worried face flashed before him, and he squinted at her as if from a bright light, even though he knew it was dark out. Something was... off, and not just the blood under his hand. Ash swam in and out of his vision, cutting off his shirt sleeve and chanting something low and smokey under breath, painting cold streaks of mud and moss across the bridge of his nose and down his cheekbones. It was strange, but if it would take the worried expression off her face, Gunner didn’t care, so he shut his eyes and fell into a fitful sleep.
But when he woke up briefly - hours or minutes or days later, he couldn’t tell - feverish and delirious in a strange cabin, Ash didn’t look any happier.
“It didn’t work. You’re a werewolf now,” she told him sadly before she forced some water down his throat and he fell asleep again.
~
When Gunner next awoke, he was alone. Werewolf, he thought, and shivered. He was a doing-person, he liked to fix things with his hands, with strength and hard work and determination.
Turning into a wolf wasn’t something he knew how to fix.
Oh God, he was a monster. He’d have to run away, find someone who could cure him though he knew no such cure existed. He could leave the village behind, but Ash... his dreams of marrying her seemed silly now. What if he were to harm her? The attack last night was certainly unprovoked, and Gunner would rather die than hurt Ash.
There was only one solution.
“We should stop seeing each other,” Gunner told Ash stiffly, when she next came to his side with a bowl of hot soup and fresh bandages. She looked stunned, even hurt, and Gunner felt a pang at the cruel necessity of his words before her face hardened.
Ash put the soup down on the table beside him, and held up a familiar looking silver ring.
“You had this ring in your pocket,” she said. Gunner snatched for it with his good hand, but Ash was too quick for him - yanking it just out of reach and smacking his hand like he was a naughty child.
“Don’t touch it, you idiot,” she snapped. “It’s silver, it’ll burn you.”
“Since when were you a werewolf expert,” Gunner retorted angrily, feeling foolish and defensive. Last night, that ring had meant so much to him. And now...
Ash barked a quick laugh. “Oh, you have no idea. But I get the feeling this ring was meant for me anyways.”
Gunner said nothing, instead choosing to begin angrily undoing the bandage around his left forearm with his right hand. It hurt, but it was better than where this conversation was headed.
Ash refused to be distracted.
“You bought me a ring,” she emphasized, her voice steadily rising in volume, “And now you want to ‘stop seeing each other’? Excuse me, but what the hell are you thinking!?”
“I’m a leather worker, Ash!” he yelled back, “The best I could ever hope to give you is a nice little cabin! You deserve better, and you know it!”
“We’ve had this discussion before, Gunner! You know I don’t care about any of that!”
“Yeah, well, I do! And now I’m not just leather worker, I’ve a vicious savage beast, and come the next moon I’ll probably be killing sheep and- and rutting with sheepdogs, and-”
Gunner stopped, because Ash had the absolute gall to start laughing at him.
“You have no idea what werewolves are like at all,” she wheezed, wiping a few tears from her eyes, before turning serious. “Gunner, werewolves might have the instincts of wolves, but they’re still people. You don’t lose control, not the way you’re thinking. The one last night - he was not right.” She took his wounded hand in hers, and gently began to finish removing the bandages. “I know these woods, and I know werewolves. The next full moon is weeks away. So before you make any rash decisions, at least give me the chance to show you that being a werewolf isn’t the end of the world.”
Gunner winced as she pulled off the old dressing and began applying the new one. The wound didn’t look too bad. He could probably start using it in another week, would need to if he was to get that order of quivers finished. And he owed it to Ash.
“A chance,” he agreed, and she wrapped him up again and gave him the soup.
“Now, do I get to keep the ring?”
Gunner swallowed thickly, and nodded. “It was meant for you,” he told her, dipping the spoon in the broth and coming up with celery and carrots, and a juniper berry.
“I know,” Ash said, and slipped it on her finger.