Reunification - 8 (Patreon)

The full chapter this time; first section is the same, albeit with beta, the rest is unbeta'd. Sorry about that, I was writing past their bedtime.

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Darius paused looking over his men's camp at the sound of a familiar cry and looked to the skies; it seemed he would have a chance to see his daughter sooner than he thought. "See that you keep to Gwyneth's instructions." He ordered the men, nodding to Sergeant Black as she saluted. "We are guests here." Though he had made good on his word to Lord Renard, telling him tales well into the night, he did not imagine that had bought them leave to act carelessly.

Still, he had little expectation that the men would let him down. Those who had served alongside, and even under Gwyneth, had a more than healthy respect for the witches and their magic. Tinged with a hint of undeserved fear, perhaps, but healthy respect nonetheless.

Leaving the shelter of the camp tucked beneath a small cliff he walked into the main clearing, eyes lingering for a time upon the immense frostwolves where they lay. The local bleak wolves, common in the Ember Hills, were tiny in comparison – should they gain a population for themselves... that alone might be worth the peace they offered.

Such beasts could not supplant horses, no more than gryphons of Donovan's like could – above, his daughter's mount screeched loudly to announce his descent – for no kingdom could supply the meat required to feed them. In the hundreds it was possible, to be sure, but not on a greater scale. The rebellion alone, discounting that of the royal forces, had fielded some six thousand cavalry, two and a half thousand mounted dragoons, and made use of countless draft horses to pull artillery and supplies to and fro.

However, that did not mean wolf knights, perhaps trained in Vivianne's graceful style of swordsmanship, could not become a new elite force at the heart of Gilneas' armies. If she was unwilling, Hilda could be convinced; though it would be a grand feather in his late friend's cap should she accept.

"My daughter," Darius smiled genuinely as Donovan landed a few feet before him, "Your Highness. I do hope your trip has been a pleasant one." He inclined his head respectfully.

Lorna smiled in turn. "Pleasant enough. However–" Her words were cut off by a jubilant cry from one of her passengers.

"Puppies!" Princess Tess strained against the straps holding her in place, fumbling with the buckles that held her in place. "Trix, let me go! I see–" Meeting Darius' gaze she seemed to remember herself and her station, clamping her mouth shut and reddening. "Trix, would you undo my belts, please? I want to see the puppies I was promised."

He chuckled at her abruptly changed tone but looked away so as to not embarrass her further. "Greetings to you as well, Donovan." He said, rubbing the beak of his daughter's loyal mount. "I did not expect arrivals so swiftly; nor indeed, here at all. We intended to move southward, to Stormglen, where the meetings might take place in comfort without unduly burdening our guests with the rigours of the city."

Slipping off of Donovan, Lorna helped Trix down before Princess Tess. A wise decision, considering the princess' clear intent to run after her puppies, which were of a size with herself, the instant she could. "My husband was unhappy with Gwyneth's refusal to bring our guests to the capital." She said, and Darius heard the undertone that she was unhappy also. "Promises were made to both the Lords and the Commons in regards to the opportunities the Frostwolves offered us, and we were loath to break them."

Darius hummed, a note of disappointment sounding clearly as he considered what his daughter had not said. He knew that the vote in the Lords had been firm enough, greed over thoughts of trade and his own direction towards using the orcs as a bulwark against Alterac's return winning firmly.

For the crown to be mired in promises meant they had made moves after his departure. Making concessions in order to earn favour and support; perhaps a clever move, had they considered that they did not rule those whose time they offered freely. "One cannot offer diplomacy with a thousand voices at once." He said chidingly. Lorna was young, as was King Liam, and they would make mistakes. But they could not afford to make the same ones twice. "From the moment you assigned Gwyneth this task, you deferred to her judgement, her ability to make peace and treaty."

Gesturing to his witch, if she deigned to consider herself such any longer, where she tended to Lord Renard's wound with a focus that had left her unaware of Lorna's arrival, he continued. "Trust that was not misplaced." Beside her, Elder Rokhstrom offered her aid as she wove another story for the fox god.

"Of course it wasn't. Gwen always knows what–" Apprentice Trix's adamant support for her teacher was cut off by a loud squeal, leaving the girl pale.

Princess Tess had escaped her minder's attention for but a moment and sprinted towards the wolves, rushing with all the childish surety that the danger was not should she simply will it so. "Puppies!" She cried shrilly, shattering the tranquil air of the glade with her cry.

Shornfang, the largest of the frostwolves, stood sharply and bared his fangs. Yet still she did not slow her rush – eyes only on what lay beyond.

Then, as Darius' cry of alarm mixed with Lorna's and Trix ran after her charge, a bird landed before the princess and turned human – Gwyneth – and swept her off of her feet with one hand. "Bad princess." She said flatly, flicking the girl's forehead. "Apologies, Shornfang." She reached out and rubbed the wolf's muzzle, calming him. "She doesn't realise that her voice can be painful."

"I didn't hurt them!" The princess protested. "I wouldn't."

"Your voice did. Wolves have very good hearing, much better than ours, and you made all of us flinch with your little cry." Gwyneth explained clearly. "Now... more calmly, Princess Tess."

Set back on the ground once more, Princess Tess looked at the wolves and the way they were watching her. Though he could not see it himself, the air around her made clear the pout upon her face – as did the indulgent smile Gwyneth aimed in her direction.

Seeing that the crisis was averted and the princess was in good hands, Darius turned back to his daughter expectantly.

"We are lucky to have her, I know." Lorna said, a soft smile forming even as she directed her attention to Donovan as an excuse to avert her eyes from his. "Knowing where hidden orcish clans dwell is the least of it. Have I been pressing too hard, relying on her influence to shore up our reign? I know I angered Vivi with what we had her do, but Gwen did not seem to truly mind."

Darius sighed and shook his head. "You are lucky. She appears to have directed her ire to the king, unwilling to let go of your friendship over a single incident. Whatever it may have been." He might have his suspicions, but they were better left unvoiced. "Queen you might be now, Lorna, but you are still my daughter. Do not forget what I taught you; treat Gwyneth as the bosom companion she is and not a pawn to be used and she will do so in kind. Vivianne's anger will fade in time."

Were things to go too far, he might salvage them in favour of his daughter. His blood. But it should not come to that – and his disappointment would turn to anger if it ever did.

"I want her to be the godmother of my child." Lorna whispered quietly. "She's still... I care for her. Things are simply so difficult now that we needed her help, and she was willing to provide."

"As a good friend will always be." Darius said, thinking of his own friendships with Tobias and Duncan before their deaths. "One simply cannot take them for granted." They would not survive forever, nor could friendships endure all hardships that they faced. Else he and Genn would still be on speaking terms. "And... I believe she would appreciate that. Nor a better protector for my grandchild could I ask for." Giving Lorna one last wistful smile as she placed a hand over her belly, he turned and moved to join the princess in fussing over the wolves.

If she managed to bond with one of the puppies, as she so wished, he would be there to witness it. Nor could deny the warmth he felt at the sight of the young girls simply enjoying life; Princess Tess, Apprentice Trix, Gwyneth, and Vivianne all alternatively feeding and petting the docile beasts.

And, most amusingly of all, Gwyneth's little two-tailed fox patting a bemused puppy on the head with a paw in mimicry of her witches.

Were she still with him, Esme would have joined them; indulging herself with the animals and showing the girls how best to win the heart of dog – or wolf – with a skilled hand and personally prepared treats.

-oOoOo-

Tess paused as she peered over the top of one of the big tree's roots, her feet dangling below and barely touching the top of the weird blue grass. Her puppy thought she had escaped her! Running away and making her chase. But they'd been silly and stopped; sniffing at the ground, ears perked up to listen, and even looking about – but not up. No one looked up!

Clambering to the top of the root, her bare feet quiet on the bark of the tree, she jumped forward and landed next to her puppy, lunging and wrapping her arms around their neck. "Got you!" She laughed as they barked in surprise and confusion. "Found you and caught you!" Pressing her arm into the soft and cool fur of the best puppy ever, Tess felt as happy as the day she got Trix to admit they were friends.

Silly Trix, they'd been friends for ages before that. Months and months. Just because Tess was a princess and Trix wasn't didn't mean they couldn't be friends with each other! Otherwise she'd never have any friends. Which would be sad.

She giggled as her best puppy ever licked her face, then squawked as she was rolled and pushed into the grass. "Hey!" She felt her puppy on top of her, pinning her down, as they barked into her ear.

"I know you're stronger!" Tess laughed back, trying to wriggle out from their paws. "You're a big puppy! Of course you're strong. But I'm sneakier, the sneakiest!" Even more sneakier than Trix's teacher when she was a fake-puppy-fox. One day she would ride her puppy like Gwyneth had let her ride her fake-puppy-fox form. One day.

Freeing an arm she started batting at her puppy's paws, which quickly turned into a game where they swiped at one another. Her hair was in the dirt and she could taste the grass be she didn't care at all. She was playing with a giant puppy.

A loud grunt left both of the frozen mid-swipe, Tess' hand on her puppy's chest while her puppy's paw pressed into her nose. "Fun games?" The big white-bearded orc, Gal-Fangar, asked. His voice was deep and rumbly and he didn't talk good, but he didn't sound angry. Nor did the big wolfy by his side. Shornfang. Her puppy's father, the biggest puppy in the whole wide world that made horses look small. One day her puppy would be as big as Donovan too!

"Yeah!" Tess laughed back easily. "Do we need to stop?" She was having fun but important things were happening too. She heard her new sister, Lorna – who was a good sister and made Liam happy – talk about important things, like trade and treaties. Father always talked about treaties like they were big things, even if the paper they wrote them on was small.

She didn't want to stop, but if it would help her sister she would. Even if she was a sneaky princess, which made Mother mad, she was good princess too.

"No." Gal-Fanger said with a shake of his head, then frowned which made his tusks pull at his face weirdly. Orcs were weird, why did they have green skin? Did the tusks get in the way? Why did he only have a beard and no hair? "Yes. Where see. Worried." He finished.

Tess took a moment to understand what he said. "Oh. Okay." She tussled with her puppy for a moment longer, getting a playful little whiny snarl. "They want us to play where they can see us. Wanna go sneak up on the big fox?"  She asked, getting a bark of agreement.

It'd be fun. The big fox was where everyone was, letting him listen while he napped and slept and stuff. He was hurt, which was sad, he was pretty and shouldn't be hurt. But Lorna said there had been a war and he got hurt in it like Ronald and Darren had; they should bring a priest to help him! Or a witch, but Trix was a witch and so was her teacher so why hadn't they helped him?

Frowning at the thought, annoyed they hadn't helped the big fox, Tess got up. She'd order them to help Lord Renard, such a pretty fox didn't deserve to still be injured. Even if it took years and years they should help him get better!

"Heh." Gal-Fangar grunted with a toothy – tusky? – grin, then moved away with his wolfy in tow. That was practically permission! Mother wouldn't agree, but that didn't mean she was wrong.

Getting out from under her puppy, Tess got up and led the way. Clambering up the roots and shushing her puppy when she scrabbled noisily; she had to show her how to move quietly, one paw at a time and softly without using her claws. The big fox had big ears and would hear them if they weren't quiet.

Out in the glade, she saw Lorna talking with the other orc, Rock... storm? Rookstorm and Gwyneth and 'that damnable Crowley'. He didn't look damnable... but maybe that was an adult thing she didn't understand yet. Straining her ears she could just barely hear some of their words, and she tried wondering if it was about her and whether she'd get to keep her puppy.

"–not an alliance. We cannot offer that so easily, but if the Frostwolves face a threat from others we will be able to intercede on your behalf. Open talks to de-escalate the fighting." Lorna answered something Rookstorm had asked. "Diplomacy is not something your people have much experience in."

"But it is something you will need in the future." Gwyneth added, looking like she knew things she shouldn't. Which she might, she knew things that made Father angry and got those archmages to come looking for her... "The valley can't stay hidden forever, and even if you could fight away all that challenged you for control of it, is that how your clan wishes to live? Battling for their right to live in the home they carved out for themselves?"

Rookstorm didn't look happy and kept staring at Gwyneth. "It is not. The valley is our home now, the mountains enough for generations of Frostwolves." She snorted and shook her head. "Yet you offer words without blood, without oath. What comes if your fellow humans seek our lives, our home, our destruction? No doubt you would side with them."

Difficult adult things, not interesting at all. But before Tess stopped paying attention, Trix's teacher started laughing.

"If you think that you don't know humans! The kingdoms fight as much as the clans used to, Elder Rokhstrom. We banded together because of the threat of the Horde, and will remain together because there are even worse things in the world. But if Alterac comes for you, wanting to reclaim their territory, we'd be on your side. There's no love lost there. If Ironforge, or Lordaeron... well, unless you attacked them..." She trailed off and looked to Lorna.

"We would not side with them. Our treaty would require us to speak on your behalf, and, in time, as trust grows, more might come of it."

Lorna kept speaking, but Tess wasn't interested anymore. Well, maybe a little – they needed to protect the land of the giant puppies! But first came sneaking up on the big fox.

Her puppy peered over the root beside her, looking down on the napping face of the big fox. His eyes were closed, and he breathed slowly. He looked so pretty up close, almost as pretty as her puppy was, and it made her angry at the one that hurt him. How could they hurt such a pretty fox?!

Slipping down the root she got closer, close enough to feel his breath on her face. Behind Tess her puppy yipped quietly, not following her; this close she felt just how big he was. Big enough to eat her up in one big bite.

Maybe getting so close wasn't a good idea and she started to back away – then a big puff of air knocked her over.

He was awake! Big gleaming eyes cracked open and stared at her, mischievous and amused. "Oh, what do we have here? A little princess sneaking up on a sleeping beast? Why... I've not had a damsel in distress to myself in ages." His grin was wide and toothy, big and menacing, and she trembled. "One shouldn't sneak up on a god, girl. They might take offence."

"But you don't?" She asked, voice quivering and feeling tears well up in her eyes.

"Of course not! You're doing just what you should, sneaky, sneaky little princess." He chuckled playfully, shrinking down to a much less scary size. "Your friend is looking for you in the woods. She's worried out of her mind, you know. What a mean little prank to play."

Tess' heart sank. She didn't mean to get Trix in trouble, or make her worried. She just wanted to play without being coddled. But she came back when Gal-Fangar asked her, didn't she? Stupid Tess. "Would you... if I tell you a story, would you have her come back without being punished? You like stories." She thought hard on what she might be able to tell. Not the bedtime stories Father told her, he'd know those. He was older than Gilneas! "Um. How I rescued Trix from the dungeons?"

The not-big-fox grinned widely. "Why, that sounds quite equitable." He settled down, hurt leg held to the side while he rested his head on the other in front of her. "Nim, do go find our lost little witch."

Putting on a 'court smile' like Mother taught her, Tess started telling the story. She might have embellished it a little, making the sleepy guard she stole the keys from more awake and aware, but if anything Lord Renard seemed to enjoy it more because of that. Offering his own suggestions to make the story better, like a daring escape with Trix's magic to make a vine out a window.

She wished she'd thought of that. They'd never have gotten caught if they ran through the gardens!

-oOoOo-

"It seems she has earned the favour of the pup." Rokhstrom said reluctantly, causing Galvangar to huff in amusement beside her. He had said she had done so days ago, the pup claiming her as she claimed it, but she had refused to see it. Now, as the princess happily showed off her companion to her freshly arrived brother – the human warchief, their king – there was no more chance to do so.

A glance at Shornfang, who watched his pup idly and without concern, told her volumes. The Frostwolves had found welcome in this place even though she had not; their hunts took them far afield, far from this glade, but they returned to bask in the peace of this place.

She had wished the princess would fail. That now that they had spoken to the Great Fox, and heard of the Great Wolf and his strength, they could depart and return to the clan. But such a reason had not been granted to them.

There would be more... diplomacy with the humans. More words that promised the world but offered no assurances besides the honour they had so little claim to. "Who do you bring before me now?" She asked as the Crowley Lord approached. "Another of your countless lords?"

A dozen had come with the boy-king. Each one with one desire or another, though at least some were interested in the other event to take place here rather than them. A small mercy.

He smiled and dipped his head, offering more of the false politeness these humans found so necessary. "No lords this time, Elder Rokhstrom. Instead, might I introduce Speaker Celestine of the Order of Amber, one of the foremost protectors of this place in which we now meet?" He gestured to the stiff-nosed woman beside him, who did not at all hide the hostility she held towards their presence here.

The openness of her hatred was a refreshing change. "Throm-ka." She grunted flatly. The woman had the air of a shaman and elder both. "I will not thank you for the welcome you do not offer. Know that we will leave once our business is done and be satisfied."

"Well met." Celestine returned with a clipped tone. "Do not make trouble. Do not harm the forest. The ravens will be watching you."

Her words spoken, she turned and marched away with a purpose. The lack of welcome offered by the spirits of this place weighing down upon Rokhstrom more heavily than before now that it had been spoken aloud.

"My apologies." The Crowley lord said. "She insisted upon speaking with you. I had hoped that she would offer welcome at least, as her niece and former apprentice has done."

Rokhstrom snorted and shook her head. "I do not care. We will be gone soon enough." His empty apologies meant nothing while the Speaker's words were at least true; there would be those that hated them for the actions of other clans.

"Now, I heard mention that the princess has won the wolf's favour." He asked, genuine curiosity lighting up his voice for once. "Might I ask what that will entail?"

She huffed and glared at the pup that had claimed the princess as their companion. "Your princess has claimed a wolf, and been claimed in turn. We would not separate them, but nor will we teach her our ways."

Galvangar huffed and waved a hand at Shornfang. "Pack stays." He said, changing the target of her glare with two small words. "Shornfang, Frozen-Fur. Satisfied here. Will stay."

Growling under her breath she punched Galvangar in the ribs, eliciting a grunt from the old blademaster. She had not wanted to tell the humans that the pack was staying, lest they get ideas of caging the. As he well knew. His eyes met hers and she growled again, but what was done was done. "The valley is large enough for the clan and our wolves, but it will not always be so." She turned back to the Crowley lord to explain grumpily. "More packs might come in time. Maybe not. Only time will tell."

"Wolves go where want go, choose who want choose." Galvangar said with a nod towards the human princess. "Is clan's way."

The Crowley lord looked at her intensely, his eye evaluating her attempt at deceit. After a few moments he smirked, a smug and amused expression that only made her more irritated. "Well. I suppose I shall go give Her Highness the good news; she had feared her new friend would depart all too soon." With a bow he departed.

Left in silence she returned to glaring at Galvangar, but he cared little for her ire.

"They speak the truth, all desiring peace." He said after a time, using their own tongue to avoid prying ears. "Fear serves the clan when danger comes. Fear strangles the clan when opportunity strikes. Grasp it, shaman. As I do."

She was left to mull over his words as he went to join his sparing partner, the mist-girl mate of the one who had found them. "Fine." She hissed, knowing he spoke true. She would give the humans a chance, though all her heart feared what might come when they were betrayed.

-oOoOo-

"While we work to end the suffering of those inflicted with the curse, it has taken an odd turn for some." Arugal explained lightly to the Great Fox that he, at last, had the pleasure of meeting; a clever being, if one that proved the old stories of foxes being tricksters both malicious and benevolent held more than a grain of truth. "Captain Jameson and his section have, if not embraced at least come to terms with the curse. Two dozen lives saved from the wilds where they hid from the undead have given them a new respect for the strength they now hold."

Arugal smiled behind his veil at the memory of Sergeant Sheila leaping into the tower in which he had made his abode, two children clutched protectively to her chest while a young woman – their young aunt – clung to her back. His only regret was that he could not capture the moment and show it to all who dared call the worgen monsters without exception.

"I have hopes to succeed in granting them the best of both worlds. A return to normality while still able to call upon the strangth the curse grants them, though my efforts have yet to bear fruit." He gestured out to where Megan Thatcher stood, looking nervously at the sky and wringing her wrists. "Megan, there, remains human during the day... but that fades come dusk. The setting of the sun allows the White Lady's influence to come to the fore once more."

A great hum came from the resting fox, his eyes watching the woman carefully. "Trust that elf lover to ruin a good thing." He harrumphed, his immense tail slapping the ground in clear irritation.

Nodding his head politely, Arugal filed away the information for the future; it was likely best to ask Gwyneth for an explanation rather than touch upon a sore topic with the fox. One did not disturb sleeping dragons without good reason, and Arugal saw no reason not to apply such logic to a 'Wild God'.

Slowly the fox's irritation faded and came to wear a toothy grin once more. "So, what does the enlightened magus think of my little blessing's plan?"

"I have no doubt she will surprise us all." Arugal answered easily and without hesitation, though he once more filed away information for later; for the fox to call her his little blessing showed no little degree of possessiveness. "It is the safest bet when it comes to her, after all."

Lord Renard curled his head around his body, covering his wounded leg, and rested his muzzle amongst its fur. Eyes closed as he contemplated what he had been asked – the thought of replacing the influence of one 'Wild God' with that of another.

Gwyneth's initial proposal had, without question, been flawed. Though for one who had not had the chance to study polymorphic principle that was a forgivable failing – even should it successfully erase the rage the worgen transformation brought, it would not spare the changes which afflicted so many. Just as applying the polymorphic formula for a squirrel onto one polymorphed into a sheep would not turn them human, applying the essence of a fox would not change a worgen to a man again.

With her time occupied on other... decidedly less important matters – though he could not deny that his fellow archmages, Antonidas especially, would disagree with his assessment of the Frostwolf affair – it had fallen upon him to refine it. His breakthrough with Megan, and the alteration of the Moon aspect into a Sun and Moon cycle, demonstrated the possibility.

Not that he would have succeeded so soon alone. Without knowledge of the curses' origins, Speaker Celestine's willingness to allow him to examine her corvine form, and the efforts of Captain Jameson and his section to acquire test subjects, it would have taken far longer to reach his present 'success'.

And, indeed, without a few words from Krennan Arenas he would not have been able to create the ritual he intended to teach Gwyneth over the next several days: The dosage makes the poison. If it is a matter of quantity, why not simply reduce it?

The underlying framework of the transformation, that held in common between the witch's transformations and the curse, and likely those of the elven druids across the sea, did not allow for multiple sources. Remove the wolf and to prevent its return, allow a dilute and finite amount of fox to take its place. The principles were untested, to be sure, but worthy of the attempt; if it allowed even one man or woman to return to a normal life it would be worth all the effort he had put into his research.

All that was needed was the willingness of the 'donor' before him. So, he waited patiently for a reply, even as Lord Renard began to feign sleep in order to rile him.

Around them the gathering which had formed to discuss the orc's situation continued. Talks of trade reaching his ears, questions of the opinion of other nations – in his stead Adept Tindersnap made clear the opinion of the Council of Six on the orcs, their, namely Atonidas', longstanding hopes for a peaceful resolution between their races. But he cared little for any of that.

He had acted in error. Heeded a call that proved unnecessary, thought himself superior to what he truly was, and ruined too many lives as a result. Guilt and responsibility both drove him towards his purpose and nought else mattered in his mind.

Eventually the fox's eyes opened once more, meeting his with a tired depth that spoke of the eons Lord Renard had witnessed. How many lives he had seen snuffed out during his time trapped in this forest by his wounds. "What fool would I be to refuse someone offering to help clean up my home." He huffed and rose to his feet and regained his more jovial and amused air. "Well, let us go and be surprised!"

"Indeed." Arugal said, feeling gratitude well up within him. "Let us be pleasantly surprised."

-oOoOo-

"Eww." Princess Tess whined, leaning into Trix's side and drawing her attention away from the ritual circle she had been trying to understand. "Why do they do that?! We're in public. Mother says you're not supposed to do it in public, even if you want to."

Seeing Vivianne pull away from a kiss on Gwen's cheek, whispering something in her ear, Trix flushed lightly. She was used to their affection, a little, and wondered what it would have been like to have that with Richard... but mostly she was embarrassed like the princess was. Gwen had never seemed to care much and got Vivianne to stop caring too in order to get more kisses.

Tricks yipped in her lap and bopped the princess on the nose with a paw, chiding her. They could do what they wanted here, it was allowed.

Which was true. Speaker Celestine had gone after a pair of lords that had started making snide comments about their late night strolls and made clear they didn't get to speak about the customs of the Order while they were guests. But it was still embarrassing, they didn't try to hide it at all. Even if it was kind of sweet how much they loved one another.

"Quiet, Tess." She shushed her... friend. So strange, being friends with a princess, let alone two of them. "She's about ready to start. It was just for luck." At least that's probably why Vivianne did it. Hopefully.

Mister Baker was already knelt in the centre of the circle Archmage Arugal had made, occasionally fidgeting and having his ears twitch nervously. He'd volunteered for this, she knew, and there were a few others who had too. People who struggled with being worgen even with the potion and other stuff; Miss Thatcher had been happy... right up until night fell and she got all moody because she changed again.

The wolf men were scary, even more scary than the big wolves Tess liked so much, but they were people. If Gwen could help them she should! It was what witches did.

"I'm ready, Archmage." Gwen said, walking into the circle. "Lord Renard, Mister Baker?"

"Don't wait on my account, Little Blessing." Lord Renard murmured sleepily from his nook by the tree. Trix couldn't help but stare at him for a moment again as he spoke, the Fox, the one who had let Gwen become a fox too. That had saved them all from the demon. Maybe one day she would get that blessing too... she was Gwen's apprentice.

A flash a guilt burnt in her heart. Did she deserve it? She got caught and spent all that time with the princesses, not helping her teacher. She messed up with Tricks... kept her away from Gwen... he would know. Of course he would.

Tricks bopped her on the nose too, barking at her and telling her to stop worrying and watch. Which was right, of course, Gwen was doing this first but she couldn't do it alone! They'd all need to learn to help the worgen go back to normal otherwise it would take years and years.

"I'm... yes, I'm ready, witch." Mister Baker growled nervously, his lips pulled back into a snarl. He was scared.

"Then let us begin." Gwen said confidently. A flick of her head sent her ponytail swaying back and forth, a trail of stars forming with each swing and scattering around the circle. High above the leaves of great Talloren started to whisper, murmuring in a breeze that wasn't there. "We banish the wolf, the unwelcome prisoner, from here where they lie chained."

Her hand took Mister Baker's paw. "Let the hatred of the moon wane under the traveller's gaze." Blue light filtered through the leaves, and all around them the grass seemed to shine from within.

"His fury is protection, his anger unending, but let it fade. Sleep, Goldrinn, sleep, and let your brother take your place."

Mister Baker bent over, holding tight to her hand. He seemed ready to fall but Gwen put her other hand on his shoulder to steady him, holding him up as she started to hum softly.

All around her stars twinkled, changing from silver to blue, and the circle started to glow. Three spots, one for Lord Renard, one for Gwyneth, and one for Talloren itself shining brighter and brighter. Silver powder mixed with chalk sparkling as it lifted into the air to join the stars.

"We banish the wolf; with silver pure, with bane of blood, with dreams of peace, we banish the wolf." Gwen spoke, and with her words a great presence weighed down upon them.

Around her neck the string that held her bead of amber, her most precious possession in the whole world, pulled and pulled as it grew heavier. Warm, hot, burning with the attention of Talloren as the great tree joined in the ritual.

Ravens took flight from the trees as they shifted and turned, wood creaking as branches moved closer. The sky disappeared behind a canopy of leaves and all light vanished save that of the Blue Child in the grass and Gwen's stars that danced all around the circle.

From the shining spots roots broke free of the ground, winding and catching, touching the limbs of Mister Baker and holding him tight. He twitched, eyes wide, and howled in pain.

The sound of bones snapping and breaking echoed throughout the glade, but slowly the howl changed. Bit by bit it became more human, more of a scream than a howl. Inch by inch the fur receded away, leaving pink skin behind.

She couldn't look. Just hearing it made her shiver.

"The wolf is gone, yet the curse remains. The den lies empty and he will return with the turning of the moon." Gwen said, letting out a long and tired breath. Realising she had been holding her own, Trix did the same. "Lord Renard, grant your gift so that the White Wolf will not reclaim his victim. So that the broken pack might be denied."

There was one last crunch of bone before there was a long sigh of relief, and then all was quiet as the lights faded way, leaving the glade in complete darkness beneath the canopy of Talloren.

Hearing soft footsteps in the grass, and thinking it truly over, Trix looked up again to see Gwen conjure a new light. Hanging limply in the roots was Mister Baker, a worn down but oh-so-human man with a weary smile on his face as he stared at his hands.

"I'm... I'm human again." He laughed weakly. "I'm human again! I'm not– I'm not–" He blinked and began to cry, a great smile on his face as great tears ran down his cheeks. "I can kiss my wife again."

"Hmm." Lord Renard was there, looking into the man's eyes from inches away.

Tess yelped beside her and Trix reached out to catch her, pulling the princess close. "It's okay. Did you look?" To her relief, the princess shook her head quickly. "I didn't either."

"Hmm." Lord Renard repeated, now nuzzling at the man's fingers. "Hmm... well, human might be an overstatement. But you are my brother's no longer. Do keep those nails trimmed... unless your wife enjoys it, of course." With a flick of his tail he started walking away.

"There are children here!" Gwen protested, for some reason turning red in the cheeks once more. "It was funny. But really. Children."

Uncaring of whatever had made Gwen embarrassed, Mister Baker slipped from the roots and prostrated himself on the ground before Gwen. "Thank you, oh Light and... and Great Fox, thank you." He started to laugh through his tears. "I can't thank you enough. I'll... free food for witches, forever. It's the least I can do. Thank you, thank you..."

Still sauntering away, Lord Renard looked back over his shoulder at Gwen's growing discomfort, and laughed.