Sohna and Vivian - My Brother's Keeper

He made it to the wardrobe, but while he stood there trying to decide which outfit would make him look most dashing for her, a wave of dizziness swept over him. It wasn't anything he couldn't control by simply grabbing onto the wardrobe door to steady himself and waiting until it passed - which it did - but unfortunately his beloved chose that exact moment to re-enter the room.

"Wolf!" she cried. "What are you doing out of bed? Are you crazy?"

She ran over to him.

"I'm fine, Virginia," he told her.

"Sure you are, that's why you just had to grab hold of that door to keep standing up," she retorted, leaving him in no further doubt that she'd seen him do it. "Overdoing it is what got you in trouble in the first place. Now get back in bed."

"But Virginia," he whined. "I'm tired of lying in bed. It's boring."

Oddly, instead of arguing further, she glanced around behind herself, drawing Wolf's gaze along with her own. When he saw who she was looking at, he realized he'd actually scented his aunt as soon as the door had been opened, but simply hadn't registered that she was there. Maybe his brain was still a little fuzzy, he acknowledged. But still ...

Millie smiled at him, but the expression in her eyes remained worried.

"Simon," she said matter-of-factly, "Would you please at least sit down on the bed so I can take a look at you?"

He recognized the tactic from his childhood: whenever they were sick, she'd keep them under control by getting them to agree to her conditions a little bit at a time, so he knew she wouldn't be satisfied with just an examination. But surely, he thought, she'd understand why it was so critical that he not stay in bed any longer than absolutely necessary this time - though not before she examined him, he knew. So he sat back down in bed with a sigh.

Millie pulled the bandage back from his neck. He saw her blink a couple of times and bite her lip. She knew, then, he thought. Her next words confirmed it.

"He bit you," she said simply. "To kill." He saw the tears start to form in her eyes.

"I'm not dead," he pointed out gently, though he knew it was through no action of his brother's.

"Only because you must have moved at the last minute," she said. "How are you doing with the pain?"

"Not too bad," he replied. "The doctor from Virginia's world gave me something - what was it, Virginia?"

"A muscle relaxer."

"A muscle relaxer. But it was for my stiff neck. It just hurt from trying to hold my head still. This isn't near as bad as it was - it throbs, but it doesn't really hurt unless I twist it ..."

His aunt nodded, then said, "Well, I can't give you anything else until I find out exactly what it was." She replaced the bandage, but held him back when he tried to sit up.

"Virginia said you slept for three days without waking."

"I'm awake now."

She regarded him dubiously.

"Simon. She is right. You exhausted yourself before and went into shock. You can't just get up immediately and go on as if nothing has happened. Your body will just react by going into shock again. If you want to get back to normal as soon as possible, then you'll stay here and rest until you're recovered completely."

"But Auntie," he whined, "You know why I did it – why I had to stay awake – so you also know that's exactly why I've got to go face Rafe again now! It might already be too late."

His aunt looked away pensively, but Virginia's incredulous voice broke in: "Face Rafe again? For what? He's in the dungeon, can't he just stay there?"

Wolf reached for his wife's hand and pulled her to him gently.

"Virginia, I challenged him and won," he explained. "I've never been able to do it before. He obeyed me on the way back because I was on constant guard against him, but it's likely he won't accept my authority now without another challenge. The longer I wait, the more likely that is."

"Challenged him?" she asked, confused. "What are you talking about? If anything, he challenged you, dragging me off like that. It's not like he didn't know we were married."

He started to explain that it wasn't that simple, but his aunt cut in.

"They've always challenged each other in one way or another, ever since they were little; it's just part of them being so close in age."

"They didn't try to kill each other!" Virginia pointed out.

"No ..." his aunt admitted, looking away. She was silent a moment before looking up at him. "Wait until tomorrow, then we'll both go face him," she said. "But afterwards, you'll come right back up here."

"You won't ..." he began.

"I won't look in on him until then," she assured him. "His wounds have been treated. I can wait another day too."

He thought there was something else she wasn't saying, but knew there was no way to make her say what she wanted kept to herself.

"Meanwhile," she added, "I think Virginia's arranged something to keep you from getting too bored."

He looked over at his succulent sweetheart expectantly.

"Wendell's agreed to hold his conference about Prince Gunther's sudden wolf-hunting in your room," she told him.

"Oh," he said, trying not to sound too disappointed. For a moment he thought she'd had something more physical - and more private - in mind, but he supposed she'd think that was overdoing it too, if she didn't even want him to walk around. "You know, Virginia, he doesn't have to. I know I don't have anything to do with ..."

"Wolf! He wants to! He thinks - we think - it must have something to do with the curse - he asked Gwendolyn about Rafe." She shook her head. "Just wait. You'll see."

Fortunately, he didn't have to wait long before Wendell, Gwen and Rupert arrived in his chamber. They took a moment to arrange themselves - Rupert and Gwen sitting as far apart as possible - what was going on with that anyway? he wondered anew. He'd almost forgotten Rupert's strange reaction when Gwen had first arrived. But he put aside his questions as Wendell began.

"First of all, I think everyone should know that Gwen has been to see Rafe and positively identified him as the ‘bard' that visited her family's estate and gained so much influence over her brother Gunther," the king announced. "Of course we have no way of knowing why Rafe would choose to promote the eradication of all wolfs, as he is one himself, but it appears that this was exactly what he did, and with lasting consequences." Wendell glanced around at each of them in turn. Oddly, Wolf noted that his aunt didn't meet the king's gaze, instead choosing to stare fixedly at the floor. His own brow furrowed as he wondered again just exactly what she wasn't saying, but he couldn't imagine what she might know that would explain Rafe's behavior.

"What we have to figure out now is why Gunther would choose the Sixth Kingdom as a target," Wendell continued. "Wolf, did you find anything out in the records of Virginia's world which would give us a clue?"

"About the Sixth Kingdom?" he asked, surprised. "No. I mean, I know there's a curse on it an all, but everyone here knows that. I really wasn't looking for information on the Sixth Kingdom while we were in Germany. And I don't think the curse is even that old; wasn't it cast well after the Golden Age - well after Grimm's visit?"

"Yes," Wendell acknowledged. "So it really wouldn't be part of the same curse."

"What is the curse on the Sixth Kingdom?" asked Virginia.

"No one's really sure," Wendell told her, then amended, "Well, I suppose the wizards know exactly what it is, but so far as everyone else knows, it's just surrounded by a wall of thorns. People can apparently get in if they wish, but no one's ever returned."

"Well, how do you know how long ago it was cursed if you don't know what the curse is?" she asked reasonably.

"Because there's a whole history of the Sixth Kingdom up until a certain point. They had ambassadors, a thriving trade, the best navy in the kingdoms - and then it all just stopped. No one knew why and all attempts to find out resulted in people going missing." He looked around at the gathered group. "Obviously some kind of curse was involved." They all nodded assent.

Wolf squeezed his wife's hand. He knew there was no such thing as a curse in her world and she still had trouble accepting that such things were not only real, but routine, in his.

Wendell regarded him.

"Do you think there's any chance of interviewing Rafe to see if he'll tell us the significance of the Sixth Kingdom in all this?" he asked.

"I'm going to see him tomorrow."

The king looked displeased; obviously he wanted the information as soon as possible - as did Wolf - but the stern looks Wendell got from both Virginia and Wolf's aunt kept the king silent about the delay.

"Well then," he said, changing the subject, "How did your research trip go? Were you able to discover the information you were looking for?"

Wolf looked down.

"Unfortunately not," he admitted. "And we probably won't be allowed back in the country, either. I did find some interesting notes on the royal family of a place called Austria, but nothing to lead me to the conclusion that they're the ones mentioned in the prophecy."

"What exactly were you looking for?" asked Gwen, confused.

Wolf told her about how they'd interpreted the prophecy to mean that a royal family from both sides of the mirror had to intermarry and produce a child to break the curse. "Unfortunately, it has to be a specific family from Virginia's dimension, while here a descendent of the original Five will apparently do. Wendell offered himself, as he's the only single one of the right age."

Her eyes grew wide, then blazed with indignation as she turned regally to the king.

"You. Told. Me. That you could never marry because of your ... your being ... different!" she spat through clenched teeth. "That you'd never be able to ... to produce an heir!"

Rupert stood up.

"He didn't have to produce an heir!" he shouted back at her across the top of Wendell's head. "You should be glad he and his advisors were kind enough to inform you of it so you didn't become trapped into a marriage with him!"

"Kind enough?" she retorted, her voice raising an octave. "Kind enough? To do what? Make me the laughingstock of my kingdom – for getting thrown over by a man?"

"I suppose you'd rather be married to him knowing he'd never want to touch you?"

"Sounds like he intended to touch her!" she shouted back as Wolf and Virginia stared open-mouthed at the fray. Wendell stared at the ceiling, trying now and then to raise his hands to put an end to it, but they steadfastly refused to see him. At long last, a servant came to the door with a message, and the king abruptly rose to meet him.

Although Gwen and Rupert continued to argue, Wolf's attention had turned to the king. He watched him break the seal on the letter and read it, the blood visibly draining from his face.

"What is it?" Wolf heard Virginia ask, followed by "WILL you two please SHUT UP!"

They stared at her, their faces masks of outrage, not only for each other, but obviously for what they considered Virginia's rude interruption of the ‘conversation'. But when they saw Wendell, they forgot their argument, at least for the moment.

He sat down heavily in the chair he'd just vacated, staring in horror at the message in his hand. Licking his lips, he began to read, but his voice failed and he had to start a second time. Finally he said, "The Fifth Kingdom has just declared war on us."

"Why?" everyone said, nearly in unison.

Rupert sputtered, "Are you certain you've read it correctly?"

Wordlessly Wendell handed him the letter.

"His Majesty King Wendell," read Rupert,

"In accordance with the laws of these Nine Kingdoms, I hereby declare war upon your land. Your recent acquittal of all half-wolves is the most reprehensible action ever taken by a monarch in 150 years. You come from such a noble line, Wendell, and you could have been as great as your grandmother, but this is beyond sane. It is regrettable that such actions are being taken, but I feel that it is in the best interest of all the kingdoms that you be dethroned.

King Cole IV"

His voice trailed off, as if there must have been some mistake.

"But Old King Cole was at the awards ceremony you gave in our honor!" exclaimed Virginia. "He didn't seem to have any objection to the wolf pardon then!"

"Oh, huff puff," growled Wolf. "It's typical. Just let them think about it for awhile and they'll dream up all kinds of reasons why it's a bad idea." He glanced at Wendell meaningfully; he still hadn't forgotten how the king had almost repealed the pardon in the first month of its existence.

"No," Wendell said quietly. "I agree with Virginia. This is ... sudden. We've had no indication that Cole was even mildly upset and now he's declaring war. There's something wrong here."

"Mellifict," said Gwen.

"What?"

"Your prisoner that escaped," she explained. "He wasn't in the swamp; we never found a trace of him. If he made it to the Fifth Kingdom, it's logical to assume that he influenced Cole in the same way Wolf's brother influenced mine."

Wendell looked dubious.

"I wouldn't necessarily jump to that conclusion," he said. "To the best of our knowledge, Rafe was influenced by the curse. How could that be true of the doctor when he was safely in a cell here at the time the curse was invoked a kingdom away?"

"Rafe was the one who helped him escape," Virginia pointed out.

"But that was to help the Swamp Witch with her plans," Wendell insisted.

"I don't know, Wendy," put in Wolf, finally. "We just assumed it was. Rafe apparently stayed here to follow us through the mirror."

"Yes, he had to have been in New York for awhile before we met him in Germany," Virginia added. "He'd gotten a passport somehow."

"That curse is unbelievably powerful. I wouldn't be so quick to assume it couldn't influence someone from that far away – even if you ignore the fact that my brother may have swayed the doctor himself. I'm beginning to suspect it even tried to use the Swamp Witch for its purposes."

"Well, if it's some all-powerful thing such as you describe," asked Rupert, "How in the world are we going to fight it?"

"Fulfill the prophecy," answered Wendell quietly.

Gwen sighed disgustedly and looked out the window. Rupert started to say something but Millie cut him off.

"What exactly does the prophecy say?" she asked. "I don't remember there being enough of it to decipher."

"Oh, I've got a copy of the whole thing," Virginia told her. "Let me get it out."

She pulled open the top drawer of her writing desk and handed the older woman a pristine sheet of the verse. His aunt read it over and her brow furrowed.

"I don't understand," she said.

"Well, technically it isn't all there," Virginia admitted. "Samantha said part of it had to be missing - the interpretation she gave was based on what was available."

"Oh!" exclaimed Gwen indignantly. "So it's not even certain that Wendell's marrying that ... person ... would even do any good!"

Rupert retorted that he agreed but he didn't see what business it was of Gwen's.

"Who is Samantha?" asked Millie over the fray.

Virginia told her, concluding with, " ... and I guess she's still in a coma. We haven't heard anything from Dad, and I'm sure he would have gotten word back if she was all right."

Wolf reached for his wife and drew her to him, hugging her as best he could without pulling her down on top of him. He knew she'd been worried about Tony's continued silence. To his great delight, he felt the baby thump against his cheek. He looked up as Virginia's hand went to the spot, and their eyes met. For just a moment, the argument, worry and imminent war faded into the background and a feeling of great calm and peace came over him. Then gradually, as the activity in the room flowed slowly back to his awareness, he heard his aunt say as if from a long way off, "But none of this explains why the curse is so concerned with the persecution of wolfs."

He realized then that she was right; up until now he'd taken it for granted simply because he was so accustomed to being hated for what he was, but there was nothing whatsoever in the prophecy to account for his brother's inexplicable behavior. Why ... how ... could he have betrayed his own people, he wondered?

"It's probably just using what's available to sow discord," someone suggested.

"More speculation," he heard Gwen insist. "None of this is anything more than speculation. When it comes down to it, we don't really know anything."

"No," he said suddenly. "But I know someone who does."

"No," said Virginia firmly. "Absolutely not. You are waiting until tomorrow like you told your aunt you would." He saw her look at his aunt for confirmation, but Millie seemed to be preoccupied with studying the floor.

"That was before we knew there was going to be a war," he argued.

"I don't care," his wife insisted.

"Virginia ..."

"NO!" she shouted. He saw tears in her eyes as she continued, "I almost lost you - I'm not going to risk it again, just for the sake of maybe getting a scrap of information! It's not our war anyway; we can just go back to New York!"

For a moment no one spoke; the only sound was Virginia's sobbing intake of breath.

"It is my war," he told her quietly, and she looked at him reproachfully as if no one else were present, tears spilling. "It's a war against wolfs," he finished. Her face turned away as if he had slapped her.

He felt miserable. On the one hand, he understood perfectly how Virginia felt: it had taken her so long to trust her heart to him that once she had, she intended to protect that investment in every way possible. Nor would he have been happy had their positions been reversed, though he would have agonized only to himself about it. But he had a duty now he couldn't ignore - a duty not only to his family, as Rafe seemed inextricably bound up in the wrong side of a wolf-hating war, but to the country and sovereign from whom he had obtained the Pardon of All Wolfs. With the vow he'd made to himself that his child would not grow up in a world who hated her kind added to that, he really had no choice in the matter at all.

His aunt, fortunately, had agreed, although on the condition that he be carried to the dungeon and back. He had tried to argue, but her logic had been impeccable: He needed to appear as strong as possible in front of Rafe, and if he tired himself out on the way to his brother's cell, it wouldn't be possible. She'd said nothing about the other possibility – that Rafe might challenge him again, and he'd need his strength for that - but privately he hoped it wouldn't be necessary. He knew he'd have very little hope of winning.

The servants set the chair they'd been carrying him in down in front of the dungeon entrance that opened onto the service corridor near the palace laundry. Virginia had remained behind in their rooms, doubly upset: Not only was he going through with facing Rafe against her wishes, both he and his aunt had told her it was best if she didn't accompany him to the confrontation. She'd set her jaw and looked away out the window in stony silence. Wolf sighed. He could live with her anger; she'd get over it - and she'd probably see that what he was doing was necessary. If he came back, that is; if Rafe didn't kill him this time.

He stood up. It took him only a moment to be sure of his equilibrium, then he squared his shoulders and opened the dungeon door. The steps were a bit harder to negotiate, especially as his neck didn't want him to look down. He leaned on his aunt for balance – it seemed odd to be relying physically on her; she'd always seemed so fragile to him. But as they cleared the last of the stairs and he started down the dim corridor to his brother's cell and Rafe's familiar scent wafted up to him, he forgot about that minor incongruity.

Rafe was sitting in the far corner on the floor of the cell – the same cell in which Wolf had confined himself on that long-ago full moon - his legs hugged to his body, seemingly oblivious to the troupe of people that had clomped and clanged their way down the corridor. His brown hair was wild and unkempt; he looked as though he hadn't shaved for several days - and probably hadn't.

Wolf stepped up to the bars. "Rafe," he said. There was no reaction. Louder, he repeated, "Rafe!" Still nothing. Wolf glanced over at Millie who, oddly, looked away. He licked his lips. Wolf had no real idea of what to say to evoke a response; issuing commands had never been within his experience. His eyes flicked momentarily to Wendell, but he knew instinctively that it would be a sign of weakness to ask for help. He took a deep breath.

"Why did you challenge me?"

Strangely, it wasn't the question he'd intended to ask – there was nothing in it about the impending war or what Rafe's motives had been during his stay in the Eighth Kingdom, or why he had released Mellifict.

Rafe, however, remained silent.

That was a bad sign, Wolf knew. If Rafe still accepted his dominance, he would have answered that question, at least. He thought it was possible that the bars between them might be affecting how his brother viewed him; that if he were to step inside the cell, Rafe might respond. But he knew it was equally likely - if not more so, considering what he knew his brother was like even under normal circumstances - that he'd have to fight him again to get the information he needed. And, as he doubted he could win, he resolved to enter the cell only as a last resort.

"I understand," he began again, acutely aware of his companions and how what he was about to say would sound to them, "I know Virginia isn't a half-wolf. I can understand if that's the reason – you didn't know her."

Still Rafe did not respond.

Wolf imagined the eyes of Wendell and his guards boring into his back; their outrage at his casual dismissal of everyone not of his own race. At the same time, he knew his own scent had changed to reflect his shame, and that Rafe would detect it and interpret it as fear. He straightened his back and plunged on, trying not to think too hard about his own words, "But you should have been able to tell that she's carrying my cub. So I'm asking again. Why? Why threaten a child's life?"

At Wolf's last words a shiver seemed to pass through his brother's body. His eyes focused on a point in the air in front of him and he exhaled in contempt.

"Why not?" he growled quietly, his voice cracking.

Wolf blinked. He'd been expecting a cagey reply, or at least a sarcastic one. Rafe's cold, careless answer frightened him nearly as much as fighting him had. He tried to think of what to say next, but Rafe, now started, continued, "Why not?"

He picked himself slowly up off the floor, fastening his eyes on Wolf's only after he was fully standing. "It'll just die anyway," he declared, his voice shaking as it rose in pitch, "Best to end it now, before you meet it – before it's someone you know; someone you have dreams for. Before you hear it laugh." He looked abruptly down before continuing in a whimper, "Before it can be frightened."

Blindsided, Wolf glanced at his aunt in confusion, but she refused to meet his eyes. He knew then that this - whatever had happened to change his brother into what he was now - was what she hadn't been telling him. It was no great leap for him to realize that Rafe had lost a child, and that the reason for her silence was because his own was on the way. Realizing how he would feel in Rafe's situation - how he had felt fighting him for Virginia's life in Germany - he understood that he'd need to try a different tactic: a more sympathetic and less severe approach to questioning his brother. But while he lost himself trying to think of how he might do this, Rafe suddenly grasped him by the front of his jacket and yanked him forcefully forward, cracking his ribs against the bars of the cell.

"None of us should have been born!" he cried, punctuating each word by giving his brother a little shake. "It would have been more merciful! What good are our lives, living in constant fear of discovery, constant dread that our mates and children will be taken from us on a whim! As a game! It's better if we die! They'll have no one to hate then – then they can kill each other!" Rafe's spittle sprayed Wolf's face as he bent back from the bars where he was held fast, searching for some - any - sign of sanity in his brother's eyes and finding none. His hands closed on the black fabric of Rafe's greatcoat as he tried in vain to steady himself. The wound on his neck had torn open; he felt the hot blood trickling down into his shirt collar.

"You should have killed me!" his brother continued, shaking him harder. "I wanted you to kill me! I should have died!"

Wolf's head swam. He cemented his grasp on Rafe's coat and jerked back hard to free himself, slamming his brother face-first against the iron. Rafe's hands flew up, their grip on his lapels broken as he fell backwards to the floor where he lay still.