fic: The Wolf's Choice
Happy Valentine's Day, my lovlies! I whipped this up yesterday as not only a NYR story (yuletide), but as a treat for the 14 Valentines community. I love multi-tasking. Anyway, I wanted to write a fairy tale, and echoinautumn's request naming the Firebird caught my eye. Unbetaed.
Some of the dialogue I lifted from the translation of the Russian fairy tale here: http://www.artrusse.ca/fairytales/firebird.htm
Title: The Wolf's Choice
Recipient: echoinautumn
Fandom: Fairy Tales (The Firebird)
Summary: The wolf knew many secrets, having lived a very long time, and one of those secrets was where the Firebird was being kept captive. He did not consider this secret to be particularly important until he met a prince.
Rating: Gen, really.
The Wolf's Choice
Once upon a time, in a far away place, there lived a wolf. He lived alone on a high plain. To one side was a large, dark forest, full of bristling green pines and small meandering brooks. The wolf spent his nights there, hunting rabbits and the small, scurrying furry things that came out after dark. To the other side was a beautiful green meadow, as wide as the forest was dense. All the little streams that wandered the forest met in the meadow and formed a deep river. The wolf spent his days there, in a burrow on the banks of the river, cool even in the heat of midday.
At the beginning of the meadow was a signpost. The wolf considered the forest and the meadow his kingdom, and he charged a dear price to travelers for disturbing his solitude. This is what the signpost said:
Whosoever goes from this pillar on the road straight before him will be cold and hungry.
Whosoever goes to the right side will be safe and sound, but his horse will be killed.
Whosoever goes to the left side will be killed himself, but his horse will be safe and sound.
The wolf thought this was a fair trade. Those who chose the straight path would find no food or comfort, and would hurry their horses through the wolf's domain. Those who chose the right side path would sacrifice their horse, and the wolf would eat well and be content for many days. Those who chose the left side path would sacrifice themselves, and again the wolf would eat well and be content for a few days.
Most travelers, of course, chose the straight path. They never saw the wolf, and considered themselves unlucky, to be so cold and hungry.
As you can imagine, this wolf was no ordinary wolf. He was a magical wolf, a rare and noble animal the likes of which has hardly ever walked the earth. He was enormous, twice the size of a normal wolf, sleek and strong enough to carry a man all day and never tire. His paws barely made an impression on the ground, he was so fleet of foot. His thick coat was silvery grey, and it allowed the wolf to be as a shadow in the trees, and as a motionless stone by the river. The wolf's eyes, though, were his most singular feature. They were burnished gold in the sun, glinting green in the forest, blue in the water, showing the strength of his character and his intelligence in an unblinking, unnerving gaze.
The wolf knew many secrets, having lived a very long time, and one of those secrets was where the Firebird was being kept captive. He did not consider this secret to be particularly important until he met a prince.
This prince had, for some reason, chosen the path to the right side of the pillar. The wolf was alerted by his magics, and quickly ran to intercept the prince and eat his horse. He was looking forward to a good meal, lying in wait to the side of the path when the prince rode into view. He was the most beautiful man the wolf had ever seen in his long life.
The prince's hair is as golden as the sand of my riverbank, thought the wolf. His eyes are as green as the pines in my forest. His smile is as quick and bubbling as my brooks, and his legs are as long and lithe as the shadows at dusk. His good qualities are as numerous as the grasses in my meadow.
The wolf had fallen in love.
He followed the prince for three days. He could hardly bring himself to slake his thirst, so intent was he on drinking in the sight of the prince. Finally, his hunger overcame him, and he ran to confront the prince on the path.
The prince seemed surprised to see the wolf. He pulled his horse up and dismounted. His horse rolled its eyes in terror at the wolf, who was nearly its size.
“Why then did you choose to come this way, Prince?” the wolf asked. “You saw the inscription on the pillar.” With that, he tore the prince's horse in two and swallowed the first half in one great gulp. He dragged the other half off to the side of the path.
Because he had eaten the prince's horse, and because he was magic, the wolf now knew that the prince's name was Ivan, and he was the youngest of the three sons of the Tsar Berendey. He also knew that Prince Ivan was on a quest to find the Firebird and bring it back to his father. He watched as Ivan wiped the horse's blood from his face, his eyes glittering with unshed tears. He watched as Ivan started walking, his stride strong and sure. The wolf's eyes burned like the Firebird with the light of his secret.
The wolf followed Ivan for another day as he walked through the meadow. With each passing hour, the wolf could see Ivan's heart growing heavier, his exhaustion showing in every step. Finally Ivan stopped beside a tree, his beautiful mouth pressed into a thin, tired line.
It was so painful for the wolf to see Ivan in such distress that he was beside himself. He bounded out of the meadow, coming close enough for the prince to touch, if he just had the energy to reach out his hand.
“I am sorry you are so exhausted from walking, Prince Ivan,” said the wolf. “I am also sorry I ate your good horse. Tell me why you have traveled so far, and where you are going.”
Ivan had mastered his fear, as the signpost had promised that he would be safe and sound. “I am riding the world in search of the Firebird,” he said.
“You could ride for three years and still never find the Firebird,” said the wolf. “Only I know where the Firebird lives. Tell me why you chose the right hand path and I will serve you faithfully and well.”
“I thought,” said the prince, “that even though my horse may be killed, I myself would still be alive. I can, in time, get another horse.”
It was then the wolf realized, to his sorrow, that he had fallen in love with a selfish man. For Ivan could have taken the straight path, and his horse would have been spared at the expense of a little physical discomfort. We cannot choose who we love, the wolf thought to himself.
“Get on my back,” the wolf said, “and hold on tight.”
Ivan seated himself astride the wolf, and he wrapped his arms around the wolf's neck. The wolf went hot all over, simply from Prince Ivan's touch. He loped down the path, past his great forest, past the deep azure lakes that were the source of his brooks, until at last they came to an imposing stone fortress. The walls were so high that even the wolf could hardly jump over them.
“Now listen to me well, Ivan,” the wolf said. “Climb over the wall, but do not be afraid. All the guards will be asleep. In the attic, under the eaves, you will see a small window, and in the window hangs a golden cage. Inside this cage is the Firebird.”
Ivan started toward the wall, but the wolf called for him to wait. “This is very important,” he said, taking Ivan's hand in his great paw. “Take the bird, but be sure not to touch the cage.”
“I won't,” Ivan promised. He scaled the high walls of the fortress and dropped out of the wolf's sight.
The wolf paced in front of the fortress for hours, waiting for Ivan's return. His every thought was of Ivan; he could think of nothing but the prince.
Finally, Ivan reappeared, not at the top of the wall, but through the gate, his eyes downcast.
“What happened?” the wolf cried.
“Oh, Wolf!” said Ivan. “I could not help but covet the golden cage! But as soon as I touched it, an alarm was sounded and I was brought before the Tsar Afron. He was furious, and in order to gain his forgiveness I must perform a task in his service. I must bring him the horse with the golden mane.”
The wolf's heart was heavy with sorrow. “I told you not to touch the cage,” he said. “Why did you disregard me?”
“Please forgive me, Wolf,” Ivan said. He grasped the wolf's paw. “I know it was wrong.”
The wolf felt his sorrow melting away at the prince's touch. “It's easy enough to ask for forgiveness,” he said. “But we will not turn back now. Get on my back again.”
Ivan climbed on the wolf's back, and they set off. The wolf loped past a wide bog, receding into the mist, and a forest, darker and denser than his own, until at last they came to another stone fortress, this one with a moat so wide, the wolf could hardly swim across it.
When they had reached the bottom of the wall, the wolf said, “Listen to me well, Ivan. Climb over the wall, but do not be afraid. As before, the guards will be asleep. Go to the stable and bring out the horse, but be sure not to touch the golden bridle that will be hanging there.”
“I won't,” promised Ivan. He laid his hand briefly on the wolf's head before climbing up the wall and dropping out of sight.
Again the wolf paced, his whole being consumed with thoughts of Ivan, with the lingering warmth of the prince's hand. Though he was beginning to tire, having carried the prince for two days, he still found he could not sleep.
Ivan appeared through the gate, but he was not leading the horse with the golden mane.
The wolf felt his stomach drop. “What happened?” he asked.
The prince's eyes were downcast again. “I could not help but covet the golden bridle,” he said. “The Tsar Kusman has set a task before me - to kidnap the daughter of Tsar Dalmat, the beautiful Helen.”
“I told you not to touch the bridle,” the wolf snarled. “Why did you ignore me?”
“Please forgive me, Wolf,” the prince said, and his eyes were so green, and his lips so full.
“It's easy to say the word 'forgive',” said the wolf. “But we cannot turn back now. Get on my back again.”
Ivan leaped on the wolf's back and wrapped his arms around him as before. The wolf loped through a dry desert, sand burnished by the sun, and past a mountain range, peaks bare of everything but snow, before they came to Tsar Dalmat's stone fortress. The walls were so thick even the wolf could hardly see through them.
This time, while they were traveling, the wolf had formulated a different plan. “I am not going to wait for you,” he said. “I will go myself. You set off to Tsar Kusman, and I will catch up.”
Prince Ivan obediently started to go back the way they had come. The wolf stared after him for a long moment before leaping over the fortress wall and into the garden. He hid behind a bush and waited for the beautiful Princess Helen. In time, she came walking into the garden with her attendants. The wolf could not believe his eyes, for she was so beautiful that she outshone the sun. He knew at once that her heart was as good and pure as her form was beautiful.
He waited until she had fallen a little behind her attendants and seized her, flinging her over his back and racing away. “Do not worry, Princess Helen,” he said as he ran. “You will come to no harm while in my care.”
The princess said nothing, merely clung to his ruff, tears streaming from her eyes in the wind.
They came across Ivan soon enough, and his smile when he saw the beautiful Princess Helen broke the wolf's heart. “Quickly,” the wolf said. “Get on my back in case we were followed.”
Ivan leaped onto the wolf's back behind Helen, and the wolf raced away, past the mountains and the desert until they reached Tsar Kusman's fortress. When they arrived, the prince seemed very sad, and he was unable to meet the wolf's eyes.
“What is wrong, Prince Ivan?” the wolf asked. “Why are you silent?”
“How can I be happy, Wolf?” the prince asked. “How can I part with the beautiful Helen?” He gazed at the princess, who had walked a little ways away from them, singing softly to herself. Her voice was sweeter than all the birds in the forest.
“How can I exchange her for a horse?” Ivan asked.
The wolf could see that Ivan was infatuated with the princess. Although he desired Ivan's love over everything in the world, he also desired for Ivan to be happy. He said, “I will see that you are not parted from her,” though his heart cried out in anguish at the very thought of Ivan loving anyone else. “Let us find somewhere to hide her.”
Next to the fortress, near the edge of the dark forest, they found a small hut. “Please stay here, Princess,” the wolf said as Ivan waited outside. “I can promise you will come to no harm.”
The princess said nothing, but her cheeks were wet with tears.
The wolf closed the door to the hut and uttered a spell, transforming himself in Helen's exact image. “Now take me to Tsar Kusman,” the wolf said.
Ivan was in awe of the wolf's magic. He took the wolf's hand and led him to the Tsar, who was delighted to see them.
“Thank you for bringing Princess Helen to me, Prince Ivan,” the tsar said. “It is fitting that such a beautiful woman will be my wife. Take the golden maned horse and the golden bridle with my blessing.”
Ivan took the horse, smiled at the tsar and his new bride and rode away.
The tsar was so pleased with his good fortune that he immediately made arrangements for his wedding to the beautiful Helen. The entire castle feasted all day and far into the night. When the tsar finally took his bride to his bed and lay down beside her, he found he was not next to his young wife, but a huge grey wolf! He was so terrified he fled the chamber without a sound. The wolf slipped out of a side gate and into the night.
When he finally caught up with Ivan, now riding the horse with the golden mane, Helen behind him, the wolf noticed that Ivan looked almost as morose as before. “What is wrong, dear Prince?” the wolf asked. “Why are you so thoughtful?”
The prince stroked the horse's neck. “Although the Firebird was the goal of my quest, I am sad to give up the golden maned horse.”
“Don't be downhearted,” the wolf said. “I will help you.”
So when they came to Tsar Afron's fortress, they hid the princess and the horse in a fisherman's hut by a deep and dark blue lake. “Do not be afraid, Princess,” the wolf said as Ivan waited outside. “You will come to no harm.”
The princess said nothing, hiding her face in the golden mane of the horse.
The wolf went outside, and muttered a spell to turn him into an exact duplicate of the horse with the golden mane. Ivan took his bridle and led him to Tsar Afron's fortress. The tsar was delighted with his prize, and handed Ivan the Firebird in its golden cage immediately.
As soon as Ivan was out of the gate, the tsar mounted his new horse, only to discover that he was astride a great grey wolf! The tsar was so terrified he fell off the wolf's back and hurried to barricade himself in his chambers. The wolf gave a tremendous leap and was over the fortress walls in a single bound. He soon caught up with Ivan, astride the golden maned horse, carrying the Firebird, with Helen behind him. They were riding through the wolf's green meadow.
The wolf could see that Ivan was well pleased with himself. He hardly spared a glance for the wolf, he was so taken with his three golden prizes.
Oh, what I have done for you, the wolf thought. What I will do for you. His heart beat like an open wound. “I must say goodbye to you here,” he said. “I can go no further.”
Ivan dismounted and bowed low before the wolf three times. “Thank you, Wolf,” he said respectfully. “You have made all my wishes come true.”
“Do not say goodbye to me forever,” the wolf said. “I may yet be of service to you.”
“How could that possibly be?” asked Ivan. He swung up on his horse beside Helen. “I have everything that I wanted.”
The wolf watched them ride away. “That which is freely given is more precious than anything stolen,” he said softly to himself. He was so tired, and his heart so pained, that he could hardly drag himself to his burrow before he fell into a deep, exhausted slumber for two days. When he woke, he was ravenous, and ate the other half of Ivan's horse in one huge gulp. Because he had eaten Ivan's horse, and because he was magic, the wolf could feel that Ivan was now in grave danger. He sped down the path, leaving his meadow and his forest again.
He found Ivan with a grievous wound, the crows circling his still form. With a howl, the wolf hurled himself to Ivan's side. He quickly sprinkled Ivan's wound with magic water from the river, and the prince healed, reviving with a swipe of the wolf's rough tongue on his cheek.
“I have slept so well,” Ivan said, yawning.
“But for me you never would have awakened,” the wolf said. He sniffed the air. “Quick, get on my back. Your brothers have murdered you and carried off what you have gained.”
Ivan leaped on the wolf's back, burying his face in the wolf's thick fur as he ran faster than ever before in pursuit of the two treacherous elder brothers. The wolf allowed himself a small moment to enjoy the feeling of Ivan's arms around his neck, his lips and cheek pressed close.
They soon caught up to the brothers, and the wolf pounced on them and rent them to pieces. As Ivan calmed the golden maned horse, the wolf approached Princess Helen, who was kneeling before the golden cage of the Firebird. She brushed away tears with her long, delicate fingers, and stood, facing the wolf, her head held high.
The wolf thought that she was the most beautiful woman to have ever lived. “Do not fear, Princess,” he said.
“I am not afraid,” said the princess. “I do not want to marry Prince Ivan. Please, wolf, if you truly mean me no harm, take me away from this place. I would live with you in your green meadow and your cool forest. I would nurse your broken heart until it is whole again.”
For the princess, in the way of many women, had seen what the wolf could not say. She knew he loved Prince Ivan, and that Ivan could never love anyone but himself. The wolf could not deny her, as he knew she was good and pure, and would never be happy to be the prize of a man so easily distracted by gold.
Ivan picked up the golden cage and beckoned Helen, who had her hand on the wolf's back. “Thank you, Wolf,” he said.
“This time we will say goodbye forever,” the wolf said. His heart cried out in pain to part from Ivan, but he knew he must. We cannot help who we love, the wolf thought to himself, but we can choose what we do about it.
Ivan watched in astonishment as Helen climbed on the wolf's back and they sped away, leaving him only with the golden maned horse and the Firebird for his father. He stared after them for a long time, but neither the wolf nor the princess ever looked back.
Helen put her arms around the wolf's neck, and her eyes were dry as they raced back to the wolf's kingdom, never to be seen again.
Some of the dialogue I lifted from the translation of the Russian fairy tale here: http://www.artrusse.ca/fairytales/firebird.htm
Title: The Wolf's Choice
Recipient: echoinautumn
Fandom: Fairy Tales (The Firebird)
Summary: The wolf knew many secrets, having lived a very long time, and one of those secrets was where the Firebird was being kept captive. He did not consider this secret to be particularly important until he met a prince.
Rating: Gen, really.
The Wolf's Choice
Once upon a time, in a far away place, there lived a wolf. He lived alone on a high plain. To one side was a large, dark forest, full of bristling green pines and small meandering brooks. The wolf spent his nights there, hunting rabbits and the small, scurrying furry things that came out after dark. To the other side was a beautiful green meadow, as wide as the forest was dense. All the little streams that wandered the forest met in the meadow and formed a deep river. The wolf spent his days there, in a burrow on the banks of the river, cool even in the heat of midday.
At the beginning of the meadow was a signpost. The wolf considered the forest and the meadow his kingdom, and he charged a dear price to travelers for disturbing his solitude. This is what the signpost said:
Whosoever goes from this pillar on the road straight before him will be cold and hungry.
Whosoever goes to the right side will be safe and sound, but his horse will be killed.
Whosoever goes to the left side will be killed himself, but his horse will be safe and sound.
The wolf thought this was a fair trade. Those who chose the straight path would find no food or comfort, and would hurry their horses through the wolf's domain. Those who chose the right side path would sacrifice their horse, and the wolf would eat well and be content for many days. Those who chose the left side path would sacrifice themselves, and again the wolf would eat well and be content for a few days.
Most travelers, of course, chose the straight path. They never saw the wolf, and considered themselves unlucky, to be so cold and hungry.
As you can imagine, this wolf was no ordinary wolf. He was a magical wolf, a rare and noble animal the likes of which has hardly ever walked the earth. He was enormous, twice the size of a normal wolf, sleek and strong enough to carry a man all day and never tire. His paws barely made an impression on the ground, he was so fleet of foot. His thick coat was silvery grey, and it allowed the wolf to be as a shadow in the trees, and as a motionless stone by the river. The wolf's eyes, though, were his most singular feature. They were burnished gold in the sun, glinting green in the forest, blue in the water, showing the strength of his character and his intelligence in an unblinking, unnerving gaze.
The wolf knew many secrets, having lived a very long time, and one of those secrets was where the Firebird was being kept captive. He did not consider this secret to be particularly important until he met a prince.
This prince had, for some reason, chosen the path to the right side of the pillar. The wolf was alerted by his magics, and quickly ran to intercept the prince and eat his horse. He was looking forward to a good meal, lying in wait to the side of the path when the prince rode into view. He was the most beautiful man the wolf had ever seen in his long life.
The prince's hair is as golden as the sand of my riverbank, thought the wolf. His eyes are as green as the pines in my forest. His smile is as quick and bubbling as my brooks, and his legs are as long and lithe as the shadows at dusk. His good qualities are as numerous as the grasses in my meadow.
The wolf had fallen in love.
He followed the prince for three days. He could hardly bring himself to slake his thirst, so intent was he on drinking in the sight of the prince. Finally, his hunger overcame him, and he ran to confront the prince on the path.
The prince seemed surprised to see the wolf. He pulled his horse up and dismounted. His horse rolled its eyes in terror at the wolf, who was nearly its size.
“Why then did you choose to come this way, Prince?” the wolf asked. “You saw the inscription on the pillar.” With that, he tore the prince's horse in two and swallowed the first half in one great gulp. He dragged the other half off to the side of the path.
Because he had eaten the prince's horse, and because he was magic, the wolf now knew that the prince's name was Ivan, and he was the youngest of the three sons of the Tsar Berendey. He also knew that Prince Ivan was on a quest to find the Firebird and bring it back to his father. He watched as Ivan wiped the horse's blood from his face, his eyes glittering with unshed tears. He watched as Ivan started walking, his stride strong and sure. The wolf's eyes burned like the Firebird with the light of his secret.
The wolf followed Ivan for another day as he walked through the meadow. With each passing hour, the wolf could see Ivan's heart growing heavier, his exhaustion showing in every step. Finally Ivan stopped beside a tree, his beautiful mouth pressed into a thin, tired line.
It was so painful for the wolf to see Ivan in such distress that he was beside himself. He bounded out of the meadow, coming close enough for the prince to touch, if he just had the energy to reach out his hand.
“I am sorry you are so exhausted from walking, Prince Ivan,” said the wolf. “I am also sorry I ate your good horse. Tell me why you have traveled so far, and where you are going.”
Ivan had mastered his fear, as the signpost had promised that he would be safe and sound. “I am riding the world in search of the Firebird,” he said.
“You could ride for three years and still never find the Firebird,” said the wolf. “Only I know where the Firebird lives. Tell me why you chose the right hand path and I will serve you faithfully and well.”
“I thought,” said the prince, “that even though my horse may be killed, I myself would still be alive. I can, in time, get another horse.”
It was then the wolf realized, to his sorrow, that he had fallen in love with a selfish man. For Ivan could have taken the straight path, and his horse would have been spared at the expense of a little physical discomfort. We cannot choose who we love, the wolf thought to himself.
“Get on my back,” the wolf said, “and hold on tight.”
Ivan seated himself astride the wolf, and he wrapped his arms around the wolf's neck. The wolf went hot all over, simply from Prince Ivan's touch. He loped down the path, past his great forest, past the deep azure lakes that were the source of his brooks, until at last they came to an imposing stone fortress. The walls were so high that even the wolf could hardly jump over them.
“Now listen to me well, Ivan,” the wolf said. “Climb over the wall, but do not be afraid. All the guards will be asleep. In the attic, under the eaves, you will see a small window, and in the window hangs a golden cage. Inside this cage is the Firebird.”
Ivan started toward the wall, but the wolf called for him to wait. “This is very important,” he said, taking Ivan's hand in his great paw. “Take the bird, but be sure not to touch the cage.”
“I won't,” Ivan promised. He scaled the high walls of the fortress and dropped out of the wolf's sight.
The wolf paced in front of the fortress for hours, waiting for Ivan's return. His every thought was of Ivan; he could think of nothing but the prince.
Finally, Ivan reappeared, not at the top of the wall, but through the gate, his eyes downcast.
“What happened?” the wolf cried.
“Oh, Wolf!” said Ivan. “I could not help but covet the golden cage! But as soon as I touched it, an alarm was sounded and I was brought before the Tsar Afron. He was furious, and in order to gain his forgiveness I must perform a task in his service. I must bring him the horse with the golden mane.”
The wolf's heart was heavy with sorrow. “I told you not to touch the cage,” he said. “Why did you disregard me?”
“Please forgive me, Wolf,” Ivan said. He grasped the wolf's paw. “I know it was wrong.”
The wolf felt his sorrow melting away at the prince's touch. “It's easy enough to ask for forgiveness,” he said. “But we will not turn back now. Get on my back again.”
Ivan climbed on the wolf's back, and they set off. The wolf loped past a wide bog, receding into the mist, and a forest, darker and denser than his own, until at last they came to another stone fortress, this one with a moat so wide, the wolf could hardly swim across it.
When they had reached the bottom of the wall, the wolf said, “Listen to me well, Ivan. Climb over the wall, but do not be afraid. As before, the guards will be asleep. Go to the stable and bring out the horse, but be sure not to touch the golden bridle that will be hanging there.”
“I won't,” promised Ivan. He laid his hand briefly on the wolf's head before climbing up the wall and dropping out of sight.
Again the wolf paced, his whole being consumed with thoughts of Ivan, with the lingering warmth of the prince's hand. Though he was beginning to tire, having carried the prince for two days, he still found he could not sleep.
Ivan appeared through the gate, but he was not leading the horse with the golden mane.
The wolf felt his stomach drop. “What happened?” he asked.
The prince's eyes were downcast again. “I could not help but covet the golden bridle,” he said. “The Tsar Kusman has set a task before me - to kidnap the daughter of Tsar Dalmat, the beautiful Helen.”
“I told you not to touch the bridle,” the wolf snarled. “Why did you ignore me?”
“Please forgive me, Wolf,” the prince said, and his eyes were so green, and his lips so full.
“It's easy to say the word 'forgive',” said the wolf. “But we cannot turn back now. Get on my back again.”
Ivan leaped on the wolf's back and wrapped his arms around him as before. The wolf loped through a dry desert, sand burnished by the sun, and past a mountain range, peaks bare of everything but snow, before they came to Tsar Dalmat's stone fortress. The walls were so thick even the wolf could hardly see through them.
This time, while they were traveling, the wolf had formulated a different plan. “I am not going to wait for you,” he said. “I will go myself. You set off to Tsar Kusman, and I will catch up.”
Prince Ivan obediently started to go back the way they had come. The wolf stared after him for a long moment before leaping over the fortress wall and into the garden. He hid behind a bush and waited for the beautiful Princess Helen. In time, she came walking into the garden with her attendants. The wolf could not believe his eyes, for she was so beautiful that she outshone the sun. He knew at once that her heart was as good and pure as her form was beautiful.
He waited until she had fallen a little behind her attendants and seized her, flinging her over his back and racing away. “Do not worry, Princess Helen,” he said as he ran. “You will come to no harm while in my care.”
The princess said nothing, merely clung to his ruff, tears streaming from her eyes in the wind.
They came across Ivan soon enough, and his smile when he saw the beautiful Princess Helen broke the wolf's heart. “Quickly,” the wolf said. “Get on my back in case we were followed.”
Ivan leaped onto the wolf's back behind Helen, and the wolf raced away, past the mountains and the desert until they reached Tsar Kusman's fortress. When they arrived, the prince seemed very sad, and he was unable to meet the wolf's eyes.
“What is wrong, Prince Ivan?” the wolf asked. “Why are you silent?”
“How can I be happy, Wolf?” the prince asked. “How can I part with the beautiful Helen?” He gazed at the princess, who had walked a little ways away from them, singing softly to herself. Her voice was sweeter than all the birds in the forest.
“How can I exchange her for a horse?” Ivan asked.
The wolf could see that Ivan was infatuated with the princess. Although he desired Ivan's love over everything in the world, he also desired for Ivan to be happy. He said, “I will see that you are not parted from her,” though his heart cried out in anguish at the very thought of Ivan loving anyone else. “Let us find somewhere to hide her.”
Next to the fortress, near the edge of the dark forest, they found a small hut. “Please stay here, Princess,” the wolf said as Ivan waited outside. “I can promise you will come to no harm.”
The princess said nothing, but her cheeks were wet with tears.
The wolf closed the door to the hut and uttered a spell, transforming himself in Helen's exact image. “Now take me to Tsar Kusman,” the wolf said.
Ivan was in awe of the wolf's magic. He took the wolf's hand and led him to the Tsar, who was delighted to see them.
“Thank you for bringing Princess Helen to me, Prince Ivan,” the tsar said. “It is fitting that such a beautiful woman will be my wife. Take the golden maned horse and the golden bridle with my blessing.”
Ivan took the horse, smiled at the tsar and his new bride and rode away.
The tsar was so pleased with his good fortune that he immediately made arrangements for his wedding to the beautiful Helen. The entire castle feasted all day and far into the night. When the tsar finally took his bride to his bed and lay down beside her, he found he was not next to his young wife, but a huge grey wolf! He was so terrified he fled the chamber without a sound. The wolf slipped out of a side gate and into the night.
When he finally caught up with Ivan, now riding the horse with the golden mane, Helen behind him, the wolf noticed that Ivan looked almost as morose as before. “What is wrong, dear Prince?” the wolf asked. “Why are you so thoughtful?”
The prince stroked the horse's neck. “Although the Firebird was the goal of my quest, I am sad to give up the golden maned horse.”
“Don't be downhearted,” the wolf said. “I will help you.”
So when they came to Tsar Afron's fortress, they hid the princess and the horse in a fisherman's hut by a deep and dark blue lake. “Do not be afraid, Princess,” the wolf said as Ivan waited outside. “You will come to no harm.”
The princess said nothing, hiding her face in the golden mane of the horse.
The wolf went outside, and muttered a spell to turn him into an exact duplicate of the horse with the golden mane. Ivan took his bridle and led him to Tsar Afron's fortress. The tsar was delighted with his prize, and handed Ivan the Firebird in its golden cage immediately.
As soon as Ivan was out of the gate, the tsar mounted his new horse, only to discover that he was astride a great grey wolf! The tsar was so terrified he fell off the wolf's back and hurried to barricade himself in his chambers. The wolf gave a tremendous leap and was over the fortress walls in a single bound. He soon caught up with Ivan, astride the golden maned horse, carrying the Firebird, with Helen behind him. They were riding through the wolf's green meadow.
The wolf could see that Ivan was well pleased with himself. He hardly spared a glance for the wolf, he was so taken with his three golden prizes.
Oh, what I have done for you, the wolf thought. What I will do for you. His heart beat like an open wound. “I must say goodbye to you here,” he said. “I can go no further.”
Ivan dismounted and bowed low before the wolf three times. “Thank you, Wolf,” he said respectfully. “You have made all my wishes come true.”
“Do not say goodbye to me forever,” the wolf said. “I may yet be of service to you.”
“How could that possibly be?” asked Ivan. He swung up on his horse beside Helen. “I have everything that I wanted.”
The wolf watched them ride away. “That which is freely given is more precious than anything stolen,” he said softly to himself. He was so tired, and his heart so pained, that he could hardly drag himself to his burrow before he fell into a deep, exhausted slumber for two days. When he woke, he was ravenous, and ate the other half of Ivan's horse in one huge gulp. Because he had eaten Ivan's horse, and because he was magic, the wolf could feel that Ivan was now in grave danger. He sped down the path, leaving his meadow and his forest again.
He found Ivan with a grievous wound, the crows circling his still form. With a howl, the wolf hurled himself to Ivan's side. He quickly sprinkled Ivan's wound with magic water from the river, and the prince healed, reviving with a swipe of the wolf's rough tongue on his cheek.
“I have slept so well,” Ivan said, yawning.
“But for me you never would have awakened,” the wolf said. He sniffed the air. “Quick, get on my back. Your brothers have murdered you and carried off what you have gained.”
Ivan leaped on the wolf's back, burying his face in the wolf's thick fur as he ran faster than ever before in pursuit of the two treacherous elder brothers. The wolf allowed himself a small moment to enjoy the feeling of Ivan's arms around his neck, his lips and cheek pressed close.
They soon caught up to the brothers, and the wolf pounced on them and rent them to pieces. As Ivan calmed the golden maned horse, the wolf approached Princess Helen, who was kneeling before the golden cage of the Firebird. She brushed away tears with her long, delicate fingers, and stood, facing the wolf, her head held high.
The wolf thought that she was the most beautiful woman to have ever lived. “Do not fear, Princess,” he said.
“I am not afraid,” said the princess. “I do not want to marry Prince Ivan. Please, wolf, if you truly mean me no harm, take me away from this place. I would live with you in your green meadow and your cool forest. I would nurse your broken heart until it is whole again.”
For the princess, in the way of many women, had seen what the wolf could not say. She knew he loved Prince Ivan, and that Ivan could never love anyone but himself. The wolf could not deny her, as he knew she was good and pure, and would never be happy to be the prize of a man so easily distracted by gold.
Ivan picked up the golden cage and beckoned Helen, who had her hand on the wolf's back. “Thank you, Wolf,” he said.
“This time we will say goodbye forever,” the wolf said. His heart cried out in pain to part from Ivan, but he knew he must. We cannot help who we love, the wolf thought to himself, but we can choose what we do about it.
Ivan watched in astonishment as Helen climbed on the wolf's back and they sped away, leaving him only with the golden maned horse and the Firebird for his father. He stared after them for a long time, but neither the wolf nor the princess ever looked back.
Helen put her arms around the wolf's neck, and her eyes were dry as they raced back to the wolf's kingdom, never to be seen again.