Original Fic - Wishes Not Free - Another Adoption, 1/1
Summary: Casper and Brutus are misbehaving.
Pairing: Casper/Brutus/unnamed
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: This fic implies that Maeve's two dogs, who are brothers, are courting another dog for a romantic/sexual relationship. No actual bestiality, just an exasperated witch acknowledging that her guardhounds still have libidos.
Author's Notes: Really, I think I just put all this stuff in the warnings. Wishes Not Free verse. Probably makes more sense if you've read Adopting, but not necessary.
Another Adoption
The first clue Maeve had that something was going on came when Casper -- usually the better behaved of her companions -- knocked his weight against her ankles to trip her. She caught herself on the kitchen table, but the bowl of food that had been in her hand disappeared out the door, firmly clenched in Brutus' jaws. Casper gave her fingers an apologetic lick and bounded out after him, barking eagerly.
Steadying herself, she frowned.
------
The second night, she was better prepared. Brutus and Casper whined and pawed at her kitchen door while she poured out their dinner, unhappily defeated by the thick piece of wood. Satisfied that this time they had no excuse to misbehave, she perched on top of a handy kitchen counter and turned the latch.
Two part-dog, part-faehound crossbreeds swept through her kitchen, snatched their dinner, and pelted into the darkness of her backyard.
------
"Alright, you two, this time I will find out just what you've been up to," the exasperated witch announced, keeping a firm grip on the doorknob. The big animals stared up at her pleadingly, not seeming at all sheepish about their misbehaviour.
She eyed them. Brutus whined.
"Oh, fine," she huffed, and let go of the door. In an instant, the two hounds had shot through into the darkness, looking exactly like the half-otherworldly creatures they were. This time, though, she stepped through the doorway herself.
A witch's garden was rarely like any other woman's, if only because no witch was ever a truly impractical creature. The path under her feet was laid in neat, even stones, and bordered in half-walls of the same grey brick as her house. All around her grew the plants useful to her work, carefully arranged to best catch the sun or shade as needed. Some grew well together, while others needed solitude; a few were so voracious that she planted them in single planters just to keep them manageable. At the edges of the garden tall pillars stood guard, heavily decorated in protections, and between all but two were suspended the plants that did best trailing down. The only two not so joined were connected by a white picket gate, traditionally bordered with rosemary both within and without.
The gate was swinging open, and Maeve frowned as she passed through it. Her property extended all the way down the ravine, to a small creek almost half a mile from her house, and more than half of that was uncultivated. There were apple trees, of course, and other fruits and nuts that grew as well wild as within her garden, but for the most part the land was taken up by whatever wildflowers blew in. The dogs loved it. The dogs loved most particularly the tiny creek, so she was entirely unsurprised to find herself squelching through mud and nodding reassuringly to the dryads peering out of their trees.
Casper's whining led her the rest of the way. He was seated, watching her approach, while his brother lay with their dinner bowl half-hidden behind him. She considered this scene for a long time, until the dryads decided she was going to be boringly slow about leaving their territory. Scowling ferociously her way, they ducked back out of sight, the last shaking the branches of her tree so harshly that she smiled.
Dark, limpid eyes continued to gaze warily at her from behind Brutus' bulk.
Eventually, having decided their mistress was leaving further action up to them, the dogs went back to nudging the soft meat at their new friend. He really was a pitiful creature -- coat matted and probably giving him sores, one ear draping in a broken, bedraggled manner, and the faint light of magic -- a generation or two removed -- suspicious of all human-shaped contact. But it was still there, the intelligence and potential not yet extinguished by whoever had been cruel enough to cast him out.
Brutus rumbled in a friendly manner, back turned to her completely. The dog he was encouraging inched forwards, eyes darting between the others there and the food. Reaching it, he stayed low to his belly, so still only the twitching of his nose revealed his interest. Silently, Maeve began weaving a calming charm over the little scene.
It took both her dogs' encouragement, but finally, the homeless dog dug into the food. He ate far more slowly than the witch had expected; then again, this was apparently his third meal in as many days, and he'd be gaining back his strength. Neither of her guards left his side, and he was comfortable enough with them to let Casper lick his ears as he finished.
The witch met Brutus' eyes as the other two settled down for a nap and a rest.
"Does he have a name?"
The dog growled.
"Very well. I trust you will get him up to the house, when he's feeling ready for that?" This time, she was answered with a very positive yelp. "That's my good boy. I'll leave out some extra blankets."
Her companion grinned in canine fashion at her. She watched tolerantly as he flopped down beside the others, nuzzling Casper's nose in greeting before looking back her way. Then she smirked.
"And Brutus -- I expect you to teach him the house rules. I will not accept ignorance on his part as an excuse if there is any mischief in my workrooms. And if you wake me up having sex in the middle of the night, I will expect contrite apologies."
Gathering her skirts about her with great dignity, Maeve turned and began back up the path to her back door, wryly pondering how to sound-proof her bedroom against the noise of two magical hounds competing over the affections of a mutt who seemed to be one tiny bit werewolf and mostly collie.