Chapter Text
hhhhhhh…
The wind was a cold promise, It hissed in Peridot’s ears, a sharp shrill whisper. White noise slowly woke her, shivering, facing heavenward, the sun bright in her eyes but offering no warmth. Something cold and wet pressed against her cheeks. Hot breath pelted her face. The smell roused her, blinking back against the slivers of blinding sunlight.
She squinted, met with golden yellow eyes staring straight at her. She felt an edge of familiarity but it was lost quickly. The eyes on her were feral and Peridot found it best to avert her gaze, feeling a growl rumble from the form atop her. The growl subsided when Peridot looked away. Her heart pounded hard in her chest, fully waking her.
She made a cautious glance back at the presence next to her, careful not to make direct eye contact. It was a large wolf, larger than any she had seen. Its coloring was strange also: sharp reddish orange with flecks of grey and white. The bulk of the creature and its coloring made it stick out in the snowy plain. Stranger was the ragged fur coat it was wearing, made out of rabbit pelts. It was as if someone had attempted to dress it up as a human. It was not human, but its eyes regarded Peridot as if it was. Peridot didn’t think too hard about this, used to her hunting dogs watching her with the same expectant look. She was more concerned for her safety. The air was frigid, but her blood danced in her veins and warmed her. She started to back away slowly. The wolf followed and Peridot resisted her instinct to run.
The wolf stopped, sensing her apprehension. Then it did the unexpected and laid down, pressing its face against her hand hanging in the air. Its wet nose pressed against her palm, urging her to pet it. Hesitant, disbelieving, Peridot ran two fingers down the beast’s snout, amazed that it softened under her touch.
As her hands dug into tufts of red-orange fur, Peridot contemplated her situation and how she had gotten here. She checked her surroundings, the woods and plains unfamiliar. The snow draped over trees and landed like a drop cloth over furniture. The white powder under her, the white sky above, made everything feel endless and daunting. She didn’t know where to start. She reached for her bow and arrows but they were gone.
But the wolf was tame, she thought, and its sense of smell was superior to her own. Could it help her home? She started to stand up, but the wolf placed a paw on her knee and then rested its head in her lap.
“I need to get up,” Peridot said, stroking its head. “Please?” The wolf closed its eyes and snorted. Peridot tried to move, but its weight pinned her to the spot.
“Perfect,” she said, her tone as dry as the cold air. “This is just perfect.”
The wolf made no reply, one ear twitching. Peridot sighed, grudgingly accepting that she was stuck here until the wolf decided to rise. She kept her hands in its fur which helped her hands stay warm. As her fingers raked up and down its neck, her index and middle finger hooked onto a leather collar. On contact, symbols bloomed forth: the sign for binding interwoven with the sigil for loyalty. Together, subjugation.
The wolf roused from Peridot’s lap, bowing its head, trying to slip out of the collar around its neck. Peridot loosely held the piece of leather, transfixed.
“Stop!”
Peridot whipped her head around, the barrel of a rifle pointed in their direction, held by a woman who appeared her age except for the haggard look in her gray-blue eyes. She was tiny, drowning in a coat of furs, yet she wore it well and held her own. The wolf snorted, disappointed with Peridot, which Peridot did not notice.
“Is that pointed at me or…” She gestured at the red wolf.
The woman’s eyes narrowed. “Take that collar off and we’ll see.”
Peridot held her hands up, submitting. “Who are you?”
“Who are you?” the woman said, not lowering the gun.
“I asked first.”
“You’re in no position to question me.”
“Peridot,” she answered distractedly, her attention drawn to the quiver full of arrows held over the rifle-wielding woman’s shoulder. “Those are mine.” Her bow was there too, over the woman’s other shoulder.
“I didn’t see anyone else,” the woman said, ignoring Peridot.
“Who are you talking to?” Peridot scrunched her nose. “And don’t ignore me!”
“She’s talking to me,” a new voice said. Peridot turned, expecting the wolf, and yelped. In place of the wolf was a burly woman wearing the same ragged coat and collar. Quick realization dawned on Peridot, her pulse fluttering in her chest. Death felt like a strong possibility between the woman with the rifle and the shapeshifter pinning her in place. The collar glowed softly and Peridot was reminded of the symbols. Whether the beast wanted to or not, she would kill Peridot if the woman ordered her. The ounce of comfort Peridot had felt before with the red wolf by her side squashed in her gut.
“Were there others with you?” the woman asked, this time to Peridot.
Peridot dared not make a sarcastic comment. This woman obviously wasn’t used to disobedience, and expected a quick answer. “My mother,” Peridot began, her memory knitting together. “We were out hunting and got caught in a snowstorm.”
The woman and the wolf exchanged a glance.
“She’s not lying, Lapis.”
Lapis did not lower her weapon. “You wouldn’t be lying to me, Jasper?” Seeing that the collar did not react, she lowered the rifle and Jasper let go of Peridot to join her mistress. Just as soon as they reunited, they began to walk away.
“Wait– are you just going to leave me like this? And what about my bow and arrows? Hey. HEY!” Peridot shouted, stumbling after them in the snow. Her legs and feet were prickly from Jasper laying on them.
Jasper looked over her shoulder. “At least give her her arrows back, Lapis.”
“And welcome an arrow into my back? No thanks.”
“She’s harmless.”
“Because she’s disarmed,” Lapis cooly replied.
“She’ll die.”
“Better her than us.”
“You’re selfish.”
“Yes,” she said, smiling without shame.
“I wonder what Steven would think, seeing you leave someone to die.” Jasper said softly. She turned to Peridot again and winked before Lapis noticed.
Lapis’s steps stilled, but not her desire to leave Peridot. She turned briskly, backtracking. Peridot froze to the spot, front teeth clenched, the molars chattering slightly. She wondered if she should run, wary of that look in Lapis’s tired eyes.
Lapis stopped in front of her. She was a few inches shorter than Peridot but that didn’t make her any less intimidating. She appeared petite underneath all the layers and the large coat. There was a threadbare muffler wrapped around her neck. The holes in the cloth essentially made it useless. Lapis held onto it anyway because the cloth offered her some comfort. The dye was faded. It had been the colour of amaranth flowers when it was given to her. “I won’t give you your weapon back, but we will escort you back home– or close enough.”
“Lapis, that’s a waste of our time. Just give her back her arrows.” Jasper’s eyes rested on Peridot for the first time with contempt.
“Armed or not, she’s lost. That’s dangerous enough. You’re right, Jasper. We shouldn’t leave her like this.” There was animosity in her voice and Jasper was annoyed. Peridot didn’t care. She just wanted her bow and arrows so she could return home.
“And then you’ll give me back my belongings?” she asked hopefully.
“I’ll think about it,” Lapis offered. “Which way?”
Peridot whirled around, trying to find a foothold in her surroundings. But there was whiteness everywhere and too much open air.
“I’m… not too sure,“ she answered unsteadily, ashamed to sound so stupid and afraid her incompetence would test Lapis’s mood. The woman buried in furs was complicated, stubborn but fickle too. Even with the push of guilt to incite her, Peridot knew Lapis could easily change her mind whenever the moment suited her.
“Jasper.” She looked at the shapeshifter and tilted her head, gesturing to Peridot.
Jasper trudged through the snow to Peridot and without warning grabbed her by the front of her coat. Jasper pressed her nose to Peridot’s body, inhaling deeply. Her feet skirted the ground, and she became so flustered that when Jasper her that the winter dissolved into a dessert, her coat and thermals suddenly too heavy and hot for her to stand.
Jasper let her fall when she was finished, the snow breaking the impact. Still flustered, it took her a moment to realize she was grounded again. Jasper walked ahead of them, the cold wind catching her hair. Her eyes were closed, nose pointed, sniffing. She walked, following a trail elusive to her and Lapis, walking in circles until she opened her eyes decisively.
“This way,” she said, walking, on two feet, and then four. The change happened so quickly Peridot did a double take. Lapis followed the red wolf silently, used to the fluidity of Jasper’s form.
X
The snow slowed their footsteps. Jasper padded through the frost effortlessly, Peridot wondered if the wolf became restless waiting for them to keep up. She didn’t bark complaint if she did. Lapis was quiet through most of the walk. When she did speak, it was to Jasper, her voice low so only her servant could hear. Lapis rubbed her hands a lot and looked at the frost beadily.
The silence didn’t bother Peridot. She was accustomed to it during her hunting trips with her mother. Silence was the key to a good hunt and they didn’t need words, walking and stalking with perfect synchronicity. Watching Lapis and Jasper, Peridot felt they were the same. Peridot wondered how old the collar was. The symbols were only a couple years old, illuminating brightly against Jasper’s fur. Their relationship drew many questions. Normally, beasts were not bound unless they were dangerous, but of the two, Peridot felt more threatened by Lapis. She didn’t think Lapis was bad either. Just a threat.
Jasper wasn’t happy with the arrangement, Peridot could tell by how eagerly she had tried to slip out of the collar before Lapis found them. But Jasper didn’t seem to hate Lapis, at least not entirely. There was a sort of understanding, not the pity Peridot had initially thought. There was a sympathy that was overlooked by Lapis.
“Do you think your mother survived the snowstorm?” Lapis asked, piercing the silence.
Peridot answer with a puzzled look. “What do you mean? I told you I was out hunting when the storm hit.”
“You said she was with you,” Lapis said. Peridot shook her head.
“She’s at home. Waiting for me. I got restless, staying cooped up in the house. So I went out hunting for some fresh air and to catch something for dinner.”
Lapis played with the holes in her scarf, staring owlishly at Peridot. She looked like she wanted to say something. What she ended up saying Peridot somehow knew wasn’t her initial thought.
“Speaking of dinner. We should catch some.” Lapis whistled, and Jasper rose, treading back to meet them.
“I could help,” Peridot offered, eyeing her bow and quiver slung over Lapis’s shoulder.
“You’re relentless.” Lapis laughed, denying her request.
Jasper was large, Peridot noticed, seeing her stand next to Lapis. On four feet, her head was above Lapis’s hips, but in human form she was six feet tall and towering over her mistress. She shifted between forms with such fluidity that Peridot couldn’t catch up. One moment she was human, speaking to Lapis, the next she bounded past them, chasing a hare, howling as she made chase.
Peridot wanted to join the wolf. She tried reasoning with Lapis again and pointed out it would be more efficient. Lapis took one of her arrows and snapped it over her knee.
“I made those!” she shouted.
“Did you?” Lapis said, pulling out another arrow. Peridot held her breath but Lapis simply inspected it. “It’s really good,” She said.
“I know,” Peridot said arrogantly, watching Lapis put it back in the quiver.
“Did you make the quiver too?” Lapis had slipped the bow and quiver off her shoulder to inspect it. Her clothed fingers followed the designs woven into the leather.
“My mother bought it for me as a present. The bow too.”
Lapis nodded and slung the bow and quiver back over her shoulder. It felt wrong to see someone else carry her weapons. Peridot’s hands itched, thinking of the soft but sturdy leather in her hands, the weight of the quiver on her back, and the reed-like shape of her arrows between her fingers. She missed their comfort as much as she missed her own mother.
X
Jasper returned with five hares, one each for Lapis and Peridot and the remaining three for herself. There was blood sticking to her jaw and across the front of her chest. She ate her meal raw in front of the fire while they waited for their own rabbits to finish cooking. The meat was tough but good. Jasper wanted their scraps, but Lapis told her to hunt more rabbits. They wrapped the rest of the meat up for later but Peridot snuck a piece to Jasper when the surly woman wasn’t looking.
They kept the fire going through the night. Before shifting back into her wolf form, Jasper advised she huddle close to her to keep warm. Jasper’s fur was soft, her body warm. Lapis remained separate from them, keeping watch.
“Doesn’t she ever relax?” Peridot grumbled.
“She’s had a rough life,” Jasper said, returning to human form to speak. Peridot loosened her arms around Jasper, unaware that she had been hugging her until she changed shape.
“What happened?” Peridot found herself asking.
“She was kept. Used for her blood to feed the vampires that kept her prisoner for several years.”
“What are vampires?” She squirmed watching the surprise cross Jasper’s face. It made her feel unintelligent and small. She steepled her fingers nervously, explaining. “I…I’m not used to being around other people. My mother and I live mostly alone. We have servants but they’re not nearly as talkative as you or Lapis. Occasionally, we are visited by merchants but–”
“They are old beings. They come from the dirt and drink blood.”
“Blood?”
Jasper nodded, then paused, wondering. “Do you know what I am?”
Peridot licked her chapped lips. “I have a feeling, but not a word for it.”
Jasper chuckled. “A feeling can be more reliable than words sometimes.”
Lapis had not moved an inch for the whole twenty minutes since they lay down and began talking. Peridot wondered if she was cold. Would she join them? Or would Jasper’s warmth leave Peridot at some hour so she could keep watch?
“How long have you known Lapis?” The question escaped, unbidden from her mouth.
“Too long.” Jasper muttered.
Peridot frowned, unsatisfied with the vague answer. Jasper returned to her wolf shape, signaling an end to the conversation. Her ear against Jasper’s rhythmic heartbeat and the comfort of her fur lulled Peridot to sleep despite the snowfall. She fell into such a deep sleep that she didn’t notice when Lapis had joined them. She heard hushed voices in the dark, their words intangible, oddly merciful towards each other. She woke briefly in the middle of the night to see Lapis breathing gently beside her, her arms wrapped around Jasper’s neck, nuzzling her fur. She petted Jasper in her sleep, an action Peridot imagined never happened when Lapis was awake. It surprised her enough to see the other woman touch her beastly servant.
Jasper was awake, keeping watch, her yellow eyes glinting over Lapis, and then Peridot, realizing she was also awake.
“Did we wake you?” Peridot didn’t hear concern in Jasper’s voice; it was a question to gauge whether Peridot had overheard their conversation. She shook her head.
“You know, we’re both surprised you managed to survive a snowstorm.”
Ah, that must be what they were talking about, Peridot thought. She was a little confused why Jasper brought it up, and maybe she shouldn’t have said anything, she was tired, but she was genuinely curious.
“What snowstorm?”