This wasn’t how their relationship worked. Fenrir didn’t… talk. Not even to Rodolphus, who was the only person he trusted enough to get in close. When they were together he resigned himself to stoic silence, preferring to listen to his friend’s ensnaring baritone over shouldering the other half of the conversation. That was how their relationship worked.
For over a decade it’d been their balance. One sided conversations that were peppered with monosyllabic grunts from Fenrir throughout. To initiate a conversation was unfamiliar enough. But initiating this conversation? Fenrir didn’t know where to start, and was suddenly grateful beyond measure that, for all his physical strength and hearty build, Rod wasn’t a werewolf. The male wouldn’t be able to scent Fenrir’s discomfort, or the bewilderment fucking with his head where Arielle Delacour was concerned.
Once the words were out silence rejoined them. He didn’t know how to expound the subject, and Rod was either stunned stupid or didn’t want to chance spooking Fenrir into tapping out of the conversation. A solid call on the wizard’s part. If pressed for more of an explanation, he’d have rather bailed than pry open the thick, well built armor that housed that all too human part of him.
The words were coming to him slowly. Each one was foreign and uncomfortable in his mouth. Saying them out loud made his skin tight. His bones were itchy. The more he spoke the less it felt like a good idea to do so. He rested his brow on his clenched fist, shut his eyes, and breathed. Rodolphus Lestrange was his friend, the closest one he had. He trusted the wizard, not only with his own life but with Raven’s as well. Raven, who had been the most important thing to him for two fucking decades. His progeny. His kin. His godsdamned beta.
If he could trust Rod with her then he could trust him with Ari. Fenrir’s instincts recoiled. Alarm bells went off in his head. Ari was more leverage when he had too much already. If Rod passed any aspect of this conversation along to the Dark Lord, He’d have a means to bring Fenrir to heel. To truly imprison him to his cause. But, more to the point, if anything threatened his Kitten he’d have to retaliate against the closest friend he had.
Tossing back the last of his drink, Fenrir devoted himself to his cigar. Clouds of smoke bloomed out of him and swirled in the air between him and Rod. His hand scrubbed into his eye socket until he was seeing stars on the backdrop of his close eyelid. Jaw clenched tight, he sighed heavy through his nostrils. The wolf nodded in answer to Rod’s question, fighting the twitch at the corner of his mouth that had started at the mention of Arielle.
Rod’s gaze sat heavy on his shoulders as the male considered him. Fenrir didn’t turn to face his friend, didn’t want to give himself away by meeting his gaze. They’d known each other too long and had grown too close. Rod could read Fenrir’s moods with a precision that was near on wolf like.
For all his hype on restraint and composure, he found himself admitting, “She didn’t give me much of a choice,” in response to Rod’s surprise. The fucking twitch was back at it again, a small smirk taking shape at the memory of how she’d stood in his path.
Nails raked through his hair and Fenrir sighed. “She… wants to see this through. And I’ve… gotten used to her… being around.” For fucks sake this was ridiculous. He scratched at his beard and sighed again, annoyed with everything about this situation, especially the parts involving him yakking it up.
The burning tobacco helped to take some of the edge off. Smoke was a comforting and familiar scent. The taste of it on his palate reminded him to relax his shoulders. His gums were aching from how hard he’d been gritting his teeth since he’d started this conversation. Unfortunately, he wasn’t out of the woods yet. More truths need unloading. He only hoped he didn’t live to regret them.
“I got into a… disagreement while following a lead. Ended up with a knife to the side and some other mementos of that night. She and I… she wasn’t with me. And it took me a while to get back to the meeting point.” Finally Fenrir lifted his gaze away from the fire he hadn’t been paying attention to, to the man beside him. Their eyes locked, hazel to blue, and Fenrir stared at his brother with a kind of understanding he’d never felt before.
What Rod felt for Bella, his mate, he got it. He hadn’t before, not really. But now he did. “I didn’t check in with her for hours and we got into it when I found my way back. She was worried that something had happened to me…” He didn’t know how to ask what he needed to ask. So instead he worked on his cigar and wished he’d brought the bottle of liquor with him.
Why was this so fucking hard?
This wasn’t how their relationship worked. Fenrir didn’t… talk. Not even to Rodolphus, who was the only person he trusted enough to get in close. When they were together he resigned himself to stoic silence, preferring to listen to his friend’s ensnaring baritone over shouldering the other half of the conversation. That was how their relationship worked.
Rodolphus was no fool. This conversation was so far from normal, he almost wondered if the man before him was indeed his Fenrir. He wasn’t about to question it or oppose, for so long he’d wanted more of an insight to the wolf that had stood shoulder to shoulder with him all these years and had barely gotten past his haughty defences.
He honestly couldn’t believe his ears, though. The only woman he’d ever heard Fenrir talk about was Raven. His child progeny, the girl he turned and raised. Their relationship was as unique as his own with the great wolf but she stuck around, regardless of her feelings towards the other. Beneath the hatred and obligation, there was still a reverence felt towards her sire...and he certainly reciprocated that in kind. Well, the best he could, given his inability to acknowledge and feel emotions the way the rest of humanity could.
To feel, anything more than what he did for Raven and under such a bonded capacity was something Rodolphus had wholeheartedly believed the other incapable of. Whoever this girl was, she’d gotten under his skin. Whether that was a good thing or not, the Lestrange was yet to determine. The kind of work they did was dangerous, deadly for those around them. The only reason he’d let Bella so far deep into his own heart was because the eldest Black sister was just as capable of death and destruction as he.
He cocked a brow at the disagreement but knew better than to ask if he were ok. The man was standing before him, perfectly fine, and that kind of question was offensive to a warrior like Greyback. And so it should be. Though the ‘she wasn’t with me’ raised alarm bells.
Clearly, there was enough backbone to this girl than Rodolphus had originally given credit, if she’d managed to get past his hard and fast rules and stick around for so long. “I’m guessing this means she has... seen you in action?” the, and is still around, left unspoken between them. Any woman who could stomach the likes of Fenrir was woman enough for Rodolphus, too.
A heavy gaze swung across to the younger man, and he was startled at the depth he found in them. Such emotion in the small canvas- worry, confusion, something more... He recognized the possessive darkness that shrouded around him like a persistent cloud. He felt it constantly for his own lover.
He really should be having such a hard time digesting this. “I need to meet this girl.” He murmured softly, shaking his head at the change in nature, as subtle as it may be. If she was so upset at his lack of check in, it was clear whatever Fenrir was feeling for her, was reciprocated.
Without a word, he moved across the room, to a locked closet of trinkets. Family heirlooms and collectables. There was an ebony box, inscribed with the flourishes and designs of his family crest in brilliant gold. The box in and of itself was something special, but it wasn’t the prize in this situation. it was what the box contained.
He moved back towards the fire, handing it over to Fen. “I think this is what you need.” He waited for Fen to open it, to see the matching set of bracelets inside. “They belonged to my parents, they’re linked.” A sad smile crossed his features as he allowed a moment for the memory of his beloved parents to remind him of what he so dearly missed before returning to the present.
“You wear one, and she the other. All you have to do is focus on the nameplate and in your head, say what you would say to her. It’ll inscribe on the gold and she’ll get the message.” It was perfect for Fen, given that a wand wasn’t required to initiate this kind of magic... “Tell me, Greyback. Does she know?” He doubted it, given how little he managed to communicate at the best of times...
“Does she know how you feel?”
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