Fathers and Sons

Fathers and Sons

Chapter 19: Speak Less Than Thou Knowest

Rumours are the tools of men who seek to destroy from the inside. People may say that sticks and stones will break your bones but words will never hurt you -- that is not true. Broken bones will be healed with a trip to the hospital, words can destroy trust, a relationship, good faith... the wrong words can break so much. To hear, "I don't love you anymore," you would almost wish that they were breaking your bones instead, and when you are told, "I never want to see you again," you think you might well do it yourself. Stewart Cauldwell, A Shadow Cast By Green Light: A Wartime Memoir, 1984.

May 1981

Skylar walked with a bounce in her step on a normal day. Days when she was in a good mood and could create a little havoc where it was necessary were the best days, and the bounce became an energized spring. Whether by nature or by nurture, Gemma was the same way. On an afternoon not long after Yaxley visited the pack and their plot began to roll, she took Gemma to the side to speak with her privately. "You know what you and Rory have to do, right?"

"'Course I do," she said, looking up at her. "You should worry 'bout Rory, he's the one who's gonna chicken out and leave me hanging."

"I'm not worried about Rory," she answered, straining at their tie with just enough tension so that she knew Gemma would take her seriously. "I'm worried about you, because you want to do things like hang around in closets and listen to conversations that Remus has with Wesley."

Gemma at the very least had the grace to look sheepish when Skylar admonished her. "He told you about that," she said, just for the sake of having something to say.

"He did. Stick to the plan today. Rory will come through, just trust him," she said, then brushing Gemma's black hair away from her shoulders. "I have to talk to the adults."

"Who? Can I -- "

"No, you cannot," she said firmly again. "Now go find Rory and go do your thing. I know you can."

With the smallest of put-upon sighs, Gemma nodded and then sped off, leaving Skylar behind. Skylar sighed in return to the empty foyer. She knew exactly who she should look for, and began to do so; Aaron and Caleb were never very far from one another. One would be enough, but both would be better.

"It's ludicrous is what it is," Caleb said heatedly, colour coming to his face at the same old dispute played over and over again. "It shouldn't matter, the children should be raised as they always are, by a pack, and that's what we are now, Aaron, as we're so often reminded by our leader, a pack -- "

Aaron slapped his hand over Caleb's mouth, mouth quirking up in a slight smirk at the obvious indignation of his former heir. "I thought you'd learned your lesson about mouthing off to your superiors, but it looks like things never change with you and your pack, do they?"

Caleb pushed Aaron's hand away, stung at being treated like the heir once again. He'd left Aaron's ridiculous pack and took half of the pack with him a year previous, he didn't have to put up with this anymore. "I had sense, I saved my pack, I didn't spit in Fenrir's face and expect to survive, the survival of your pack is what matters, not that anything matters to you more than yourself and your orthodoxy -- "

"Oh look, it's Ben Skoll's girl," Aaron said loudly at the girl's approach, hoping to end the conversation that they always seemed to end up in. "We'll talk about this later, Caleb, something to say?" he added to the girl.

"Just checking things out," Skylar said with a smile to both of them. "Wasn't so difficult to find you two, anyone can hear you before they see you, you know," she added to them, taking a casual stance with both hands on her hips.

"It's a whole new debate even though it might not sound it, you know," Caleb spoke up in an attempt to catch her eye. "Maybe you could judge it fairly? I think the answer's easy enough but Aaron's always got to argue."

"As I'm the one who causes trouble," Aaron said, tone wry as could be. "Would you be so kind, Skylar?"

"Well," she said, pretending to consider it. "I suppose I could try to give impartial judgment. 'Try' being the key phrase," she further joked.

Caleb laughed at that, and leaned forward. "Well, I have faith in you. Have a seat?" He pushed a chair forward with his foot.

"We expect we're supposed to have these things hashed out by Fenrir's favourites, but there's talk of war so we don't need to trouble them," Aaron said lightly, with a glance aside at his son. "It's a matter of some of the pack's children, and who should take care of them, as they were Joanna's, and she died."

"She was killed in the war Fenrir declared on Aaron," Caleb clarified. "And one of mine, Shannon, she's got her little Freddy, and Freddy and poor Nora are great friends, and she just wants to look after Joanna's Nora and Brian, but since Shannon's one of mine, they won't have it. It's ridiculous, at this point we're all one big mess of packs as it is, we're never going to get out, I don't know why we're -- "

Aaron turned to Skylar as he talked. "Don't mind him," he said, right over Caleb's impassioned defence. "It comes down to that they're from my pack so my werewolves should take care of them, don't you agree?"

"Better than Wesley," Caleb said under his breath, looking at Skylar for a moment for some sort of response. He'd seen her around Briony enough, after all.

"Oh, we're a unified pack now, I think we should all take care of each other now, don't you reckon?" she said with a broad smirk.

"Now that's trouble talking," Caleb said, with much a similar look in return. "Just what I'd expect out of Ben Skoll's favourite daughter. She's on my side though," he added to Aaron, blithe as anything.

Aaron just shook his head, not quite tolerant of this talk even from a girl like Skylar. "This conversation's taken a bad turn, I think we need to try this again. He's again trying to take what's rightfully mine, I -- "

"I take what's rightfully yours when you fail to do what's best for it, Aaron, that's the way it was and that's the way it always will be. Problem solved," Caleb said with a note of finality, ignoring the heated glare he received from Aaron as he considered Skylar. "Sky. I think our conversation's making Aaron a bit nervous, d'you have the time to go talk somewhere less, ah, open?" He gestured at the common area dismissively.

"As long as they are taken care of and loved." She was going to answer, she really was. But it would nag at her later if she said nothing now. "I think that would be fine, Caleb, are we going to talk more trouble or will there be less of that?"

As Aaron left with a curt nod in farewell to Skylar, Caleb went on as though nothing occurred. "Whatever you like. There aren't many in this pack open for some candid talk, if you can handle that," he added as a half-joke. "Lots of werewolves of the old patriarchy grumbling about the way things are and not doing a thing about it. Come on." He stood as well. "He hasn't got ears everywhere."

She had been treating the pack as if he had, but she made herself smile appreciatively. It would have been nice to be able to plant the rumour in Aaron's ear, but it would spread like wildfire all the same. "Well. We're here, doesn't mean we all have to be completely happy about such a complete change from everything we've always known. Let's walk," she said.

They walked, and Caleb hesitated to speak in hopes of saying it just right and not in the words of an orthodox zealot. "A complete change from everything we've ever known, from everything we've ever been taught, just because Greyback liked the sound of a messianic cult."

Skylar clasped her hands behind her back. "Strong words coming from an heir who left and took half of the pack with him," she said mildly, conversationally.

Caleb couldn't help but grin at that. "Hey, that's not fair. I didn't mean to do that. I was just going to leave and they happened to follow me."

"Oh, total accident, I get it now," she laughed.

"Total accident," he laughed, nodding. "Exactly! Thing was, Aaron was making selfish choices, something I normally wouldn't hold against a pack leader, except they were hurting the pack." He held a door open for her. "I did my best to change his mind, his ways, anything, but it wasn't working, because I was just the heir. There was a better life to be had, I offered it, and most of them took it. What can I say? It's not the first time it's happened, just the first time the heir's won out."

"I see," she nodded, leaving the house and waiting for him on the grass. "They wanted to leave, you provided what looked like a better option for them."

"I did. Of course, if the unified pack's done anything, it's given us the opportunity to possibly mend those problems, if Aaron stops being a stubborn old dog long enough to listen to me." He glanced at her. "I expected you'd understand, what with all that bastard Gareth did in your pack."

Skylar gave a short sigh. It wasn't a favourite collective memory of their pack, they usually made a point to avoid it. "Yeah," she agreed. "Well. Things'd been a lot worse for all of us if Ben hadn't done what he did. Gareth was not ready to run a pack, doing any worse would be nigh inconceivable."

"Yeah." Caleb shook his head. "Too bad no one was there to just nip Fenrir in the bud, right?"

"Well," she said. "He had a lot of encouragement when it came to carrying out this... pack." She glanced back at the house. "The witch, you know."

"I know the witch," he said, now wearing a grim smile. "She wanted to kill me, you know. Told me a thousand times."

"You and whoever happened to be closest at the minute, I think," Skylar answered in a similar tone. There was no doubt that the witch was a force to be reckoned with. "She's coming back, is what I heard."

His demeanour changed instantly, his posture straight and tensed. "She's coming back? Who told you that?"

"Oh, I heard Yaxley mention it to Remus before he left the last time. I was just around the corner," she said, but pulled a face. "I don't mind Yaxley so much, he's never around unless You-Know-Who's got something for Fenrir, he doesn't want to hang around and torture us lot like she did."

Caleb nodded again, still shaken at the idea of the witch's return. "The worst bit was her acting like torturing us was enough to make her a saint right there. Or killing the ones she didn't trust, like she was the one running things."

"Yeah," Skylar said, her throat suddenly dry. She cleared her throat and cleared her head. The witch had likely killed as many of theirs as Wesley had. "Knowing her, she'll probably be trying to make up for lost time or something."

"Why d'you think she's coming back?" he asked, hoping his nerves were managing not to show.

"Dunno," she shrugged. "Didn't mention, it was just real offhand, like. 'Cause she wants to and can, I expect."

"I just wonder, 'cause it could well be this war with Hati everyone's talking about. Since Hati's got all those wands."

"Oh," she said, as though it hadn't occurred to her. "I suppose you could be right about that."

"I dunno if this pack can withstand another war," he said. "This is just bleeding ridiculous, don't you think? I'm tired of being ordered around by a madman with a messiah complex."

She gave him a little smirk, but there was a tinge of satisfaction in it as well. "Yeah. I know what you mean."

Caleb tried a smirk in return, but he couldn't find too much to smirk about besides a compatriot, and Skylar at that. All right, there was reason to smirk. "Not much to do about it, though, except try to keep the kids from being pulled in. Or the adults, even - with all the talk of werewolf supremacy and an attack on wizards, all the more traditional packs are eating out of the palm of his hand. You'd better watch out for Aaron, if he suspects you think how I think you think -- you're not nearly as well-protected as your friend Briony, that's all. I worry about you, you know," he added.

She shrugged again. "There's no one in this pack half as well-protected as Briony is, except maybe Remus. Maybe Laurel, although it certainly doesn't seem like it these days. Anyway, it's not really me I'm worried about, much. But they'd hurt Gemma before they did anything to me, I think, to shut me up. It's how they work," she said, and stopped. No matter how much of this conversation depended on her being able to keep a poker face, she could hardly stand the idea of anyone laying a finger on her girl.

The idea disturbed him, too, and he couldn't hide it. "The kids," he said, exhaling. "God, I worry about the kids. What they're learning. If they're going to turn out just like Fenrir's brainwashed little brats, like Wesley and Laurel and Remus."

"Well. I'm not really worried about Gem getting into that kind of trouble," she admitted, recovering herself with a small bit of forced laughter. "She just likes to run around. Get into things she oughtn't necessarily be in. That's what'll get her in trouble. But... some of them, yes. Some of them are already that way, just listen to them talk sometime." Now she was over thinking it and getting worried. If it came down to it, she knew Rory would do his best to keep her in line, but many times Gemma did not live in a line so much as in a zig zag.

He touched her shoulder without a second thought. "Hey, it's all right. They won't hurt the kids, they won't. They'll hurt anyone else, but they won't hurt the kids, no matter what they say."

"Yeah. They are the future," she said in an uncharacteristically caustic tone.

"The future of the unified pack," he returned in a similar tone, with a wry smile.

She glanced at the hand still on her shoulder but said nothing about it, instead looking at the grass. "I... don't know what kind of bad blood there is in your pack, or well, packs, but now it's more important to stick together than it is to be right. So in conclusion to what was going on way earlier, I don't think it matters who takes care of the two children. They just need to be taken care of. They're children, so they won't care where the love is coming from, as long as they feel safe. I don't think you can play pack politics when it comes to the welfare of children."

Caleb accepted that with a nod and stayed silent, contemplative, for a moment, before he spoke. "I'd kill to get them all out of here, I would, but I think any halfway decent werewolf in this pack would say the same." He paused and opened his mouth to go on, but immediately stopped and froze at the sound of the door opening behind them. He took a casual glance back and slipped his arm around Skylar. "Laurel," he murmured, leaning close to her ear.

Her luck with timing was scary. "Smooth, Casanova," she teased in a strange combination of light humour and grimness.

"Well, we do make a charming couple," he returned with a grin, having no excuse not to take advantage of the situation.

"Couple of what?"

"Traitors?" he suggested, in grimly comedic fashion.

She laughed at that a bit harder than she'd meant to, but it felt good to do so. "I suppose we are at that."

"Oh, we are." He looked back again only to see Laurel approaching them. "Something to say?" he called to her.

"Not to you. To Princess there," Laurel said, with a wave indicating Skylar, speaking as briskly as she walked.

"Oh?" She raised an eyebrow and drew herself up to her full height. "And what is that, then?" she asked genially.

Laurel stepped forward, her hand drifting to her hip where her knife was ever present. "You haven't got me fooled, Princess, I know what you're up to. You're not one of us and you never will be, none of you from Skoll's sorry lot know how lucky you are."

Fenrir kick you out of his bed again? was Skylar's kneejerk reaction, although she saw the knife well enough and was far from stupid. "What am I up to, Laurel?" she asked calmly.

Laurel wavered but only for a moment; not having any real evidence wasn't about to stop her. "Nothing good, that's for sure. I see you sneaking around, talking to Conor's bitch, you're no better than their bastard pack, you know."

Caleb eyed the knife, but couldn't resist. After all, she was just an unnamed. "Someone's nervous," he commented lightly to Skylar.

Skylar demonstratively rolled her eyes at Caleb. She might have been joy and light incarnate, but she didn't have a lot of patience for crap. Even if Laurel was one hundred percent correct. "Right, okay. I'll stop my no good seduction techniques now, Laurel."

Laurel shook her head. "I say we should've just killed you lot, you're barely real werewolves, with patricide and a female heir, well, what rot that all is -- "

"At least she's got a name," Caleb interrupted, unsurprised but still startled when Laurel's knife was suddenly out and right at his throat. "Right, kill me, that'll get you in his favour. Even Carrow knew better than that."

Laurel pressed the tip of the knife to his throat, blinded by anger and nicking his skin. "Don't you bloody mention her again, she's gone for good, gone back to her 'Father' she called him, ha. She doesn't know a thing."

That particular point they seemed to be in agreement on, but that was about where their agreement seemed to end. "Just leave us be, Laurel. If I'm just the female heir from a bastard pack, I'm not really much of a threat, am I?" Skylar said.

"We don't stand for disloyalty in Fenrir's pack." Laurel considered the boy for a moment. "And you're both in Fenrir's pack." She looked to Skylar next, and lowered her knife. "And I trust you'll remember that before you do something stupid like that idiot Father of yours, Ben Skoll."

Many uncharitable thoughts were racing through Skylar's brain, Laurel had undeniably hit a button but rising to that bait was definitely not in her best interest. Ben was easily a thousand times the pack leader that Fenrir would ever be. "Okay. You have a good day, Laurel," she said brightly.

Laurel answered that with a glare, disheartened, and walked towards the side of the house on her original business.

Caleb only then dared touch his neck and consider the blood on his fingers. "Mad little bitch, now isn't she?"

"Well, yeah. I mean, usually, but if Carrow's coming back it means she's back out in the cold, so to speak," she said, looking at the wound. "It's not too bad, it's not bleeding that much."

"No, no problem. There's a former Healer in with the bastards, I'll just get him to fix it. Not that I, er, spend much time with the bastards."

"Yeah," she said, with an odd half smile. "Spend it all arguing with Aaron, I expect."

"More than I'd like. You all right?" he checked.

"I'm fine," she said. "Not a scratch."

"Not what I meant. You looked a bit shaken, 's all."

Because with every other part of this plan, if one person did not behave how the four of them thought they would -- and that now included Laurel, more than ever -- there was a strong possibility that it would all go up in smoke and a lot of trouble besides. "I'm fine. She pressed my buttons with Ben, is all."

"Good, great," he said, "now let's go before she tries to impose a curfew on us and slap me around some more."

"Oh fine," she said, and playfully pinched his cheek before leading on.

~*~

Wesley's main task was to take care of the children, a task he quite relished, and something his Father valued highly. The children were the future of the unified pack, and once they knew what was right and what had to be done to keep everything the way it was meant to be, the success of the pack would be assured. That was what was in his hands every day he attended to the children, he knew, and there was little that was more important.

"Wesley!" Nora called, and dragged her friend Brian behind her as she ran towards their caretaker. "WESLEY THEY DON'T BELIEVE ME BUT I HEARD IT'S TRUE. Is it true?"

"Well why would it be true?" Kelly demanded, in hot pursuit after Nora and Brian with a number of the pack kids, waiting to see what her Father Wesley would say. "She left, she ain't comin' back, Wesley, tell her it ain't true."

"But it's got to be true!" Gemma yelled, a little too gleeful at finally getting to play her big part -- and keeping one hand firmly around Rory's wrist, who she thought looked like he might bolt at any second.

Brian shook Nora's hand off of his wrist, hurried to Wesley's side and shouted over the others, "Now don't be stupid, it's all just stupid rumours, that witch can't ever come back! Tell 'em it ain't true so they shut up about it and we can play games!"

"Good morning, children," Wesley began with a smile, amused at the children's conduct, and ruffled Brian's hair. "What are these rumours, everyone sit down, one of you tell me? Just one. Gemma!"

The children obediently seated themselves on the floor. Called on, Gemma stayed on her knees so she could be seen over some of the other, larger kids. Even though she was one of the older ones, she was still quite small. "Okay," she said, ready to explain. "So. We heard that before the wizard left last time he and Remus was just talking, right, on the way out the door and he said Miss Carrow was comin' back."

"But she ain't!" Kelly broke in again, which was met with some quiet murmurs of agreement.

"Are you callin' Remus a liar?" Nora said loudly, in her best imperious, older-kid tone. "Better not! I keep tellin' them, Gemma an' Rory an' I know, isn't it true?"

The accusation of calling the first of the pack a liar -- Kelly hadn't precisely thought of it that way -- quieted her, and Gemma nodded enthusiastically. "An' you know the wizard hates coming here anyway, he don't say much unless he means it. He doesn't have any reason to lie!" she said. She resisted the temptation to look at Rory, they'd agreed it would be a lot more effective if he just agreed rather than did so after prompting from her.

Rory spoke up the second that Gemma finished speaking, eager to just get the statement out so he wouldn't have to do it again. "Yeah, and you know everything, Wesley, so it's true, right? She's coming? Miss Carrow was so nice to us even if she was a witch." He made a face.

Wesley looked at the children blankly for a moment, until he saw a look of confusion dawning on a few of their faces, and only then did he force himself to say something. "Miss Carrow..." He hadn't heard a word about Alecto returning, but there could be any number of reasons why he hadn't heard, each one more disturbing than the next. "Miss Carrow might be returning, it's true. She's thinking about it," he invented. "Wouldn't that be great fun?"

"YEAH," was the overwhelming agreement. It was immediately followed by the buzz of talking between two or three of the children at a time, and Gemma shot Rory a grin that would easily be mistaken for excitement. But damn was she proud of him.

"Yeah," Rory agreed, and grinned at Gemma, giving her a nudge in the side. "Great fun."

"Good! Come with me, we're going outside," Wesley stage-whispered to them, and pushed the problems out of his mind. They could be dealt with later, when the children were finished for the day. "Unless there's anything else someone wants to share?"

Gemma made a sudden decision. "YES," she called, and saw Rory's brow furrow out of the corner of her eye. "I told Sky and she said she heard that too and she said Laurel saw her and Caleb yesterday and she said Laurel didn't believe it, she don't want to believe Miss Carrow's comin' back."

Wesley looked at the girl. Gemma was likely the quickest and most observant of the children, even if she was from Ben Skoll's pack; it wouldn't do not to trust her. "Children, we have to take everything Laurel says with a very large grain of salt," he said. "Laurel is a trusted friend of Fenrir's, but she's still unnamed, and you know that unnameds cannot be fully trusted."

"So if she's unnamed why does Fenir trust her?" Kelly asked.

Gemma made a face. "Who cares." Anyone from Skoll's pack was especially sensitive to any talk of unnameds being untrustworthy or otherwise less than a named. But of course, they couldn't say anything.

Wesley wondered that himself, sometimes, more and more. "Without Laurel, Remus and I wouldn't be here, helping you, helping all werewolves. She was very helpful to Fenrir a long, long time ago. And she still is," he added quickly.

"There are degrees and exceptions," Gemma said. "Usefulness to the pack is important, right Wesley?" she looked up at him with a broad grin.

"That's right, Gemma," Wesley said with a smile and a nod. "We're all here to be useful to the pack, because then we're happy and everyone's happy. And that's for the best. Laurel might be an unnamed, but she helps the pack, and so we tolerate her. The unnameds do help the pack, in their own ways, but they're still beneath us. Barely werewolves." He pulled a face. "But you're special, all of you, because you're named, because you're connected to the pack."

Gemma looked around at the rest of the kids, mostly because she couldn't stand to look at Wesley anymore. There were some nods of understanding from the older kids, although the younger ones were listening intently. She looked at Timothy Pittiman, now keeping his younger brother and sister close, each of them less blank and more frightened than the last. "I want to go outside now, can we?" she asked. It was the only chance they really had during the day to have some sort of free conversation without the possibility of Wesley or any other adult listening.

Wesley nodded and rose to his feet. "We should go outside! There's too much to see and do, come along then, all of you!" He gestured for them to follow and rushed out of the room, comforted by the children despite being disturbed at their words.

The room filled with the sound of all the children rising with varying degrees of excitement and vigour, and Gemma grinned at Rory again. "You did good," she whispered.

"I know," Rory whispered back with a confident grin, climbing to his feet quickly as they filed outside.

Time passed fast, too fast, outside with the children, and Wesley herded them inside in preparation for the next meal, screaming, excited little kids that they were. He paced the hallways, hand by nature drifting near his hip and the knife waiting there as he patrolled, but he stopped immediately at the sight of Remus talking to the girl Briony, not knowing quite what to do. He uncertainly wandered over, considering Laurel who brooded nearby, but waited for a good time to speak to Remus.

Briony stepped closer to Remus as she felt Wesley pass behind her. She knew he wouldn't touch her unless there were orders and if there were orders they would certainly be loud and she would see them coming for miles, but he still made her nervous whenever he was near. "I'll go," she said.

Remus squeezed her elbow, terribly sensitive to her proximity ever since she'd made her comment in his room after the four of them last met. "You're fine," he said.

"He's waiting." Her voice was even lower. She smirked slightly. "Lurking."

The corners of his mouth lifted briefly. "See you then. Be careful."

"I am always careful," she said dryly, mirroring the small smile. She left Remus for elsewhere, anywhere else, and he regarded Wesley, silently granting permission to speak first if he was, as Briony seemed to think, waiting.

Wesley watched Briony leave, and his hand left its place near his knife as he approached Remus. "I hope I didn't interrupt something important," he said, lowering his head in deference.

"No, nothing," he answered. "We were just talking."

"That's what I thought," Wesley said, careful to make no insinuation. "I only meant to ask something, if I might trouble you for a minute."

"No trouble," Remus said. "What is it?"

Wesley hesitated. You know everything, Wesley, so it's true, right? She's coming? he heard the child say. If only. "There are rumours," he began. "It might not be of any importance."

"About... Alecto Carrow," he said carefully. If everyone else was doing their job - which they undoubtedly were - that was what he would be hearing.

Wesley felt the blood rush from his face. "Yes," he said after a moment. "About Alecto. That she's coming back."

Remus nodded. "Well, good news travels fast, I suppose," he said dryly, and swallowed. "Yaxley mentioned it when he left last time, I could hardly believe I heard it myself."

He didn't know what to think of that, and couldn't hide his surprise. "Is it for sure, then? Does Fenrir know?"

"Not unless he's heard too," Remus admitted. "I... wasn't certain whether saying anything or not would be the wiser course of action. Or Yaxley told him too."

"Oh." Wesley shifted, awkward, uncomfortable with the paranoia now lingering in the back of his thoughts. No, he couldn't afford to pay them mind. He lowered his voice. "Laurel is afraid of her return. Of Alecto's return."

"Well. I should think that's hardly surprising," he said. "Briony didn't like it either."

He took a long pause, almost fearing to speak his next words. "I ... I feel it necessary to suggest that you be careful around Briony, Remus. Rumour has it you two are ... close."

Remus couldn't help but blush a little, even if Briony was right when she said rumour would spread and if the rumours were false. He pulled out his best imperious tone, and said, "She's Conor's. We trust Conor. Even if some of the things she says are... not in line with pack ideals, she's not going to be real trouble." He hated how he wasn't even startled at how easily the lies came to his tongue now.

Wesley wanted to speak, but there was that tone, and the fear of retribution -- even unjustified -- was well-ingrained in him. He closed his mouth and reconsidered. "I hope you're right, for all our sake," he said finally, and touched the wolf to Remus's in the most brotherly way he could manage.

Fenrir stalked into the room, scattering a small crowd that had gathered at the door, and called. "Remus!" With a terse gesture, he summoned his first son over along with a harsh yank at his wolf. Remus.

The pull started in Remus's brain and ended at his feet, strangely paralyzing but propelling him to move all the same. "Yes Father," the words jumped from his throat as he followed his feet.

Wesley watched Remus rush to their Father, tilted his head, and let his gaze fall upon Laurel, who stared at the two wide-eyed, and knew what he was meant to do. He took brisk steps and soon stood right in front of her, staring down at her. "Laurel," he said flatly.

Laurel turned to him as though she hadn't noticed him looming, or hadn't cared. "Wesley," she said, in the same half-severe, half-bemused tone as always.

He held out his hand and spoke before he could reconsider. "Give me my knife. The one I borrowed you."

Her faint look of camaraderie vanished into hostile confusion. "What?" she demanded, her voice rising.

He drew his own knife and put it to the artery in her neck. "Give me the knife, Laurel. I want it back."

She stared at him, and once she saw the determination and distrust in his eyes, she twisted her neck away from the knife and pulled her own, holding it out to him, handle first. "I don't need it," she said crisply, and left the room in a tense, frightened half-run.

Once her footsteps had faded away, Wesley looked to Fenrir and swallowed hard. As his Father reached out without words, just with a look and the harsh pull of the wolf, he just said Yes. Yes, it's true.

Fenrir looked askance to Remus and clapped him on the shoulder. "Too much to talk about, to do, come on then."

Remus nodded once. "Yes, all right," he agreed.

~*~

The meeting of Fenrir's inner circle was tense, short, and almost useless, and Fenrir was starting to think that all the paranoid whispers of a conspiracy might have had some truth in them. Things like this didn't happen in a pack with an unquestioned authority. He stared at Laurel as she walked past him without even a glance, and halted Conor as he approached. "You come with me," he ordered.

Conor couldn't pretend he was totally startled, although the idea that he was going to be Fenrir's confidante was new. "Of course," he agreed, letting Fenrir pull him towards the largest room on the upper floor.

Fenrir shut the door behind them and looked to Conor after a moment, not liking the bemused look he saw on Conor's face. "What?"

"Nothing." Nothing at all was good about this situation. Something bad was happening, they all knew it, and it was all going to end in a few pointless deaths and Fenrir's continued reign. "Was there something you wanted to say, Fenrir?"

"There are rumours, Conor." He walked to the window of his room and looked out at the hills surrounding his pack house. "Too many rumours, stories about -- well, don't doubt you've heard."

"I try not to listen to rumours, you can't learn anything from rumours except that people are nervous, and I've told you time and time again that your pack is nervous about the impending war on Hati." Conor made himself be patient, to speak in deference. "It's a lot of nonsense, whatever they're saying."

"They're saying that Alecto is coming back," Fenrir barked, with the edge of a growl in his voice. "They're saying some people in this pack want to end my reign and destroy this pack, they're saying that there are some of my most trusted people working against me, what do you think of that, Conor? Or do you want to call me paranoid, and a liar, eh?" He glared back at Conor. "Do you?"

Conspiracies, the witch, sabotage. It struck Conor as too convenient, too pat, too easy. He chose his words carefully. "I don't want to call you that, but if it's what you are, Fenrir, you're better knowing and doing something about it than pretending you're not."

Fenrir stalked towards Conor, standing right in his face, speaking directly to him, "I'm the leader of this pack and any rebellion will be crushed," he snapped. "Anyone who questions me will pay the consequences. Do you hear me, Conor? I don't trust you bastards, you and Laurel, I don't trust you! You're the ones, aren't you? The bastards are all a waste, the lot of you!"

Conor didn't rise to the bait, change expression, or give any indication he'd heard Fenrir at all besides a quirked eyebrow. "I assure you, Fenrir, that I am not leading a rebellion against you. Just as you, my pack matters more to me than anything else."

"You don't have a pack, you never did." Fenrir patted Conor's cheek and stepped back, staring him right in the eyes. "No unnamed can ever rule a pack, no unnamed, no woman. You were all just waiting for me to bring you into a real pack, and now's the time."

Madman. He hoped Fenrir couldn't see the thought pass through his mind, and stayed calm in spite of Fenrir's panicked, searching wolf attempting to agitate his own. "There's no rebellion against you. You've crushed what rebellion there was time and time again." But thoughts were stirring in Conor's mind, ones he didn't want to consider. The distance Briony had kept between them, the mutterings in the common rooms, maybe they had mattered after all. "I promise you that no such rebellion exists, and if it does, I'll find it myself," he finished with the slightest smile.

Fenrir said nothing for a moment, appraising, wary, before grabbing Conor by the throat and shoving him hard against the door. "This is no laughing matter," he snarled into Conor's face. "And if I find you have anything to do with this I'll see your pretty little bitch dead within minutes by the hands who killed your heir, do you understand me?"

"Loud and clear." Conor kept control, though it was getting increasingly difficult. "I have things I need to do, Fenrir, is this all? Accusations?"

Fenrir hit him across the face, hard, and only then backed off. "Go." He turned away and went back to the window, gripping the windowsill.

Conor half-ran down the stairs and managed to stop himself from acting like a petulant child by the time he reached the foot of the stairs. He took a slow breath and searched the house until he found Briony sitting by Skoll's first, Skylar, in some form of deep discussion. "Briony," he said, grasping at their tie, forcing her to notice and give him full attention.

Briony stopped in mid-sentence to Skylar. As sudden and hard as the pull had been at their tie, Conor need not have said a word, but as long as she had known him she'd never heard him say her name with such urgency. She paid attention. "Y-- yes," she stammered, looking up at him and thrown off guard.

He looked at Skylar for a moment, his anger starting to simmer just then, but he turned to Briony and took her hand. "Come with me, now." Another, harder pull on their tie was unnecessary, but he didn't even hesitate.

She winced and gave a small, involuntary noise at the discomfort. Skylar withdrew even as Conor was pulling Briony from her seat and out of the common area. Briony was unsure of whether she should even say something in acknowledgement of his order, but decided it was hardly merited and followed.

He led her into the nearest loo and closed the door, twisting the faucet so the water would drown out their conversation for anyone who might dare to follow and listen. "Briony," he said, "I am going to ask you one question, and you are going to tell me the truth."

The tension in the tie kept her silent, her face flushed with anxiety as her heart rate raised. "Okay," she said.

He took her by the shoulders as he spoke. "Is there a group within the unified pack attempting to sabotage Fenrir's reign?"

As red as her face had been, it went white in a matter of seconds. She felt Conor's fingers dig into her thin shoulders, and her mouth opened but she couldn't make herself either give an honest answer and betray her comrades or lie to her Father. "I... I -- I can't -- "

Even if she meant to speak lies, her face gave the most honest answer. "Who is it? Is it the Curenton bastard? Are you part of this? Are you?"

"I am," tumbled out of her mouth and she kept her gaze down. She had the wild thought that she could possibly minimise damage right now, but it seemed more ludicrous with every passing millisecond.

He released her, stepped back, and considered her, with only the sound of running water between them for a long moment. "I had hoped you would be honest with me," he said finally, and reached over to the faucet. "I'll speak to the bastard and we'll have no more of this." He twisted the faucet off, flung open the door, and went to find the sorry boy.

She made herself follow after, daring to pull back at their tie for his attention and the chance to speak. "It's not what you think - "

"It's exactly what I think," he said sharply, openly lashing out at her with the tie now. "Don't lie to me again, Briony."

Briony should have expected that but she hadn't, and she bit her lip to stop the sob already leaving her mouth. Tears escaped and tracked down her cheeks all the same, but she wiped them away quickly. She rushed to catch up with him for whenever he found Jeremy.

Jeremy was recovering from a bout of laughter at something Sky had said when he noticed Conor walking towards him, and that was the last thing he saw before Conor took him by the shoulder and literally dragged him out of the room. Surprised at a complete lack of witnesses and amazed that that somehow managed to be the first thing he noticed, he asked as soon as it occurred to him, "What the hell is going on?"

Conor didn't bother answering; he simply shoved the Curenton into the room, ushered Briony inside, and shut the door. "We're going to talk," he said, as he picked up a nearby chair.

Jeremy eyed the chair. "I, er, I have no idea what we have to talk about..."

Conor wedged it underneath the doorknob and turned to look at the boy. "Don't get clever with me, Curenton, I know your sort."

"Jeremy." Briony stood off to the side and bit her finger to keep from saying anymore, but gave him a look. I'm sorry. I can't lie to him, not even for all of us.

Jeremy looked at Briony and straightened. "He knows, then," he said, as though this turn of events didn't faze him at all.

She nodded, looking quickly at Conor, back to Jeremy, and down to the floor in hopes of some kind of relief.

Jeremy felt badly, for a moment, and wanted to comfort her or something, but now was not the time. He reached out to her wolf with his own, though, in some gesture of apology. "I'm surprised you didn't suspect it sooner, I didn't have to twist her arm or anything," he said to Conor as he did.

Conor stepped forward, irritated when the boy didn't even react at the intimidation. "Don't be flippant. This is serious. Do you even know all I've done to keep my people safe, and you're just throwing them into danger?"

"I don't make anyone do anything, Conor, I only take those who want to fight and put them to use. I had hopes you'd have a similar mind but it seems you'd rather live under Fenrir's rule as a servant with no risks instead of fighting for your own pack. No wonder you lost the war," Jeremy snapped, and took steps forward to approach Conor face-to-face. "I'm going to end this delusion of Fenrir's, you just watch me, and -- "

Conor slapped him. "Don't you ever speak to me like that," he said, "or you'll get worse than that. You're going to get my girl killed, or worse, my entire pack, because they suspect I'm the leader of this rebellion, don't you understand?"

Jeremy touched his cheek, but the news was more startling than the pain. "They suspect you," he repeated.

"Conor," Briony said in a tiny voice, though she didn't dare reach out for his wolf as she might have done otherwise.

Conor exhaled, and reached out to her when she didn't reach out to him. "I told him I would see the end of it," he said. "And I hope to. You're going to end it, Curenton."

"Like hell I am, we've nearly won," Jeremy said impatiently, brushing the command off easily. "He's paranoid, he's distracted, and we're well on our way. Don't panic, Conor, we're doing well." His tone lightened. "Briony, tell him."

"He won't like it, Jeremy," she said, pulling the sleeves of her jumper over her hands in anxiety. There were large parts of this plan that she knew Conor wouldn't like at all; there was a reason she hadn't told him anything.

Jeremy looked at Conor, who wore an impassive expression, and took that to mean agreement. "You're telling me you'd rather be part of this cult than have your own pack free? If it was me, I'd do anything to get my people out of here. Actually, that's what I am doing -- "

Conor went to go stand next to Briony, and touched her shoulder. "What are you doing?" he asked. "What is it you're so afraid of me knowing?"

"It's not just us," she started quietly. She spent a very long moment considering how to continue, and her speech was stilted at first but it began to stream out of her. "Remus is also part of it, and Sky, and two of the kids. We've -- we've been spreading the rumours that the witch is coming back, it's an absolute lie, but it's all so that we can create enough doubt about Laurel that we can..." She couldn't make herself say it, disappoint Conor again, but she couldn't put it on the rest of them completely. She'd agreed to it. "We're going to kill her."

Conor snorted at that, unable to keep his amusement silent. "You think you can get away with that? You'll be dead by Wesley's hands within an hour of discovery."

Jeremy spoke up so the pressure wouldn't fall on Briony. Besides, it was his plan. "We're not going to kill her. Fenrir is. Or he'll give the order and Wesley will kill her, either way."

"Filthy little plan you have there," Conor said, looking at Briony, "destroying your enemies without a fair fight. You would do better to slit her throat yourselves. Why does she need to die?"

She swallowed and glanced down, hair falling into her eyes. "She was the largest threat." She didn't know what else to say.

"She is the largest threat, and she is going to die," Jeremy said. "She's the only one who can see us for what we are, the rest are blinded by rank and superiority. It's survival, and it'll weaken Fenrir's inner circle -- cause more paranoia, more problems -- it's the best solution."

"You're as bad as him." Conor gripped Briony's shoulder and yanked the chair away from the doorknob. "Let's go," he said gently to her.

Briony wanted to protest; it would work, they'd been working on this since winter before last, it was careful, and would work. But she couldn't let herself speak more, she already felt wretched by playing the ungrateful daughter. Even if it wasn't how she really saw it, it was how Conor's disappointment and anger had made her feel. "Yes," she said hoarsely, but touched Jeremy's wolf before they left the room. Trust me, I'm not abandoning this.

Conor released her shoulder and stopped her after a moment of walking, pulling her into a loose embrace. "I forgive you," he whispered. "Do what you believe is right. Just don't get caught." I'm sorry.

She latched on to him in return, breathing slowly to control her agitation. "I'm sorry," she whispered back. "It'll be okay. It's been... we've been doing this for a long time. It's fine. I promise."

"Don't promise," he said. "Just do what you can. I trust you."

She nodded into his chest, and she had the sudden compulsion to give him news now that he knew everything else. "He -- Jeremy -- he went to Hati's pack, and... Jane's there, with Patrick. They went to Ben Skoll after we were attacked and they went to Hati. They're okay."

It struck Conor, and hard. He hadn't even indulged himself with thoughts of his niece in at least a year, and now news, finally news. "Oh. Oh, thank God." He held her close. "We'll all be together. The lot of us."

"Yeah, we will be," she said, more sure than ever that it had to be so.

"You don't need to be afraid. I'll help." It's survival, the Curenton had said, and Conor was no idiot; apparently his own survival hinged on this as well, to save him from suspicion. "Now come on, we have arrangements to make." He released her and took her arm, leading her to seek out the members of their pack.

~*~

June 1981

Lily pushed open the door to the cottage by the sea that they held their meetings in, James right behind her. "I know she said that it was no bother at all, James," she said, continuing their discussion from before they Disapparated. "I just don't like leaving Harry for any amount of time. Hello, anyone here?" she called to the house. "First ones," she added.

"Well, the Order does need the both of us every once in a while, he's fine without us just for a bit, so you don't need to worry. So don't worry," James reassured her, and threw his summer cloak onto the cloakrack with practised ease. "I bet Moony shows up. Hasn't been a word about werewolves for a whole week now in the Prophet, you know."

"Ran out of words to say, I expect," she said frostily, opening windows to get some air moving in the otherwise stuffy house. It was a warm July, but there was a breeze off the water. She hoped Remus showed up, she hadn't stopped worrying for what felt like ages.

He followed her. "It's just the Prophet, Lily, you know they're more full of shite than a Snape on trial."

James was probably lucky that two more pops of Apparation saved him from more than Lily's gimlet eye, but her withering look had said it all. "Hello?" she called out, her hands on her wand in her pocket, just in case.

"Hello," Frank called back, letting Alice enter in front of him. "Early, I see," he remarked, as if this were some small act of god. Granted, how their lives had been going lately, it nearly was.

Alice, however, was pleasantly surprised. "I don't remember the last time we were early to a meeting. Lily! Is it just you, then?"

James sent Lily a grin. "No, I'm here!" he called back.

"Not for lack of trying," she said, squeezing James's sides, exactly where she knew him to be ticklish. She moved around him and went to the door to greet Alice and Frank. "Lovely to see you," she said. "How's Neville?"

"Oh, he's lovely," Alice said warmly, "he's a real darling, so sweet. I hate to leave him alone with his grandmother, but he'll be fine."

"Mother adores getting to spend time with him, you'll hardly put him down for five minutes whenever you have him," he told Alice, kissing Lily on the cheek. "How's Harry?"

"Growing like a little weed, and the most perfect child to ever be born to hear James talk about him," Lily answered, rolling her eyes. "So be careful how you ask him that, you might sign up for an answer you don't have time for. I can't believe they're going to be one already at the end of the month."

"One year old and already a genius," James said, and anticipated the look from Lily as he went on wearily, "and that's it for the bragging, I swear. I swear."

"I looked at the calendar and it's not been so long since the last meeting, but we've had our troubles at MLE so it's felt like years." Alice took a seat in one of the plush chairs. "We have a lot to tell."

"Oh yes," Lily said. "We've been reading all about what sorts of trouble you've been having."

Frank smiled wryly. "No offense, Lily, but the Prophet doesn't really scratch the surface. But maybe that's just my biased, overworked viewpoint."

"The Prophet is reporting every other word that MLE tells them, and everything that Crouch tells them, which is that everything is fine and we're winning the war, except we need more funding," Alice said grimly.

"I figured as much," James said with a shrug. "Who trusts them anyway? Can't trust anyone these days -- well, except us."

Lily looked at James. She supposed her naivete was showing, although it would be nice to be able to trust the mass media. "Yes, well, and apparently not even all of us," she said dryly, pointedly looking away.

That was startling talk. Alice sat up and paid attention then. "What do you mean?"

"She means Remus. They don't trust Remus. You don't trust Remus," James said, looking at Frank. "Sometimes I think we're the only ones who do, Lily."

"I don't trust Remus," Frank repeated, an affirmation. "I don't trust him further than I can throw him. He withholds information but insists that it can help. I get suspicious of anyone who could put someone like Fenrir Greyback away and isn't. It's wrong."

"He has to have his reasons," James said sharply. "He would never keep anything from us unless he was literally unable to tell us. This is Remus we're talking about, Frank, not -- he would never be one of them, he'd sooner die."

"Your faith in him is inspiring," Alice said gently. "But, perhaps, misplaced."

Lily bit the inside of her cheeks, she wasn't going to argue the point. It was unlikely that they would make any headway arguing with Frank and Alice, and there seemed to be no point to making it a tense environment.

There was a soft sound out front of Apparation, and footsteps in the front hall. "Hello?" Remus called tiredly. It felt strange to be away from the pack, and all the cloak and dagger business therein, only to walk into the cloak and dagger business of his wizarding friends.

James looked immediately to Lily and called, "Hey Remus! In here! See, he showed," he added to Frank as though this instantly proved Remus's innocence.

Frank did not respond, but rather exchanged glances with Alice. There was a pan of fish that did not need frying, as his mother would say.

Remus followed James's voice to the front room and looked between Lily and James on one side and Frank and Alice on the other. It didn't take a sixth sense to perceive the tension in the air. "Good evening, everyone," he said, managing a smile.

"Remus," Lily greeted him, and the relief in her tone was undeniable. "Here -- come on, sit down, we haven't seen you for ages." He looked tired. He always looked tired. But aside from that he looked whole, and that much was enough to calm her for now.

"Yeah, we were worried, mate. You missed two whole meetings, a lot's happened, I'm sure you know." Including more attacks -- of course Remus would know. James shook it off. "You'd better be around for Harry's birthday or we'll never forgive you."

"Ah, the thirty-first." Remus remembered. Not that he had forgotten, but he had definitely been preoccupied. "I would like to be there. I'll keep it in mind."

Frank muttered something about a cup of tea and moved out of the front room, back to the small kitchen. Remus looked at his shoes for a moment but did his best to keep what was left of his dignity intact. The Longbottoms didn't trust him, he knew it, there was naught to be done about it. Thankfully, Lily saved the rest of them from more tension or finding anything else to say. "He's grown so big, Remus, you'd hardly believe it. He can take some steps now if someone is helping him, and he's so loud, talks all the time - "

"Gets that from James, I expect?" Remus asked with a slight grin.

"Maybe! Also the brightest little bugger in the whole of England, gets that from me too," James added proudly. "And he'll be on a broom by age three if I have anything to say about it." He glanced up at the sound of more Order members arriving, the soft buzz of conversation in the front hall, but grinned at Remus. "Missed you, Moony."

Remus reached out to touch a wolf, and felt foolish when he of course felt nothing. It was grasping at air. "It has been a long while," he conceded, but gave a grateful smile.

"Other people are arriving. I'm sure they'll be relieved to see you," Lily said, squeezing his hand. "We're not the only ones who worry, you know."

"You're the only ones who do so loudly," he returned wryly, but squeezed her hand back.

James couldn't have been more relieved, except that Peter's and Sirius's words had stuck with him, but he couldn't afford to think like that. Remus was back, that was all that mattered, right? He smirked at Remus and went into the front hall, calling, "Hey, Remus is back!"

Peter ran inside and nearly plowed right into James, who scoffed and stepped back. "Really?" he asked, trying to look past James for a look.

"Really," James said with a nod and a grin, and spoke more confidently than he felt. "I told you lot that you were wrong, here he is."

Remus tried not to read too much into what James said, but it was difficult. He instead forced himself to smile at Peter and said, "Hello, Peter."

"'lo," Peter said, forcing a smile and doing his best to look a little frightened. "How've you been?"

A loaded question. "I have been worse," he settled on.

Peter wore a confused look. "Uh. All right, well, I hope it gets better," he said uncertainly.

James looked between them and shrugged. "Come on! The meeting's probably about to start."

The next room was practically alive with the noise of people waiting for the meeting. "Yes," Lily agreed, pulling Remus up with her and the four of them drifted through the foyer to the dining room where everyone could be seated.

"So then the Unspeakable turns to the bartender and says -- oh, hey," Sirius stopped in the middle of his joke to Marlene McKinnon. "Moony," he greeted specially, carefully.

"Hello, Sirius," Remus said, getting the same vibe off of him that he had gotten off of Peter, one of guarded mistrust.

"He's back. And he'll be at Harry's birthday," James said, as though the conversation about his loyalty was now over.

"Great," Peter said, with obviously false cheer.

And Sirius would be watching Harry every second in that case. "Oh right, my godson, the most brilliant thing to walk the face of this earth."

"Oh yes, I forgot to mention," Lily turned to Remus, and rolled her eyes good naturedly. "To listen to James and Sirius talk about Harry, you would think that they were sharing a girlfriend or something."

"Yeah, my son is going to be even more brilliant on a broom," James was saying to Sirius, but Peter just tried to catch Lily's eye and give some indication of warning. Unfortunately, Dumbledore chose that moment to walk into the meeting room.

"What'd I tell you, children," Lily said to Remus, as they all sat down and Dumbledore called the meeting to order. He smiled gently, and focused on his erstwhile Headmaster. If he did so, he could tell himself that the wary looks were figments of his imagination. A paranoia, nothing more.

Alice had begun to notice that the meetings were increasingly ending faster and achieving less besides instilling an equally increasing sense of doom and futility in the Order. This meeting ended the same way, and she put her face in her hands before looking up at Frank and abruptly standing. "Let's go," she sighed.

"Wait!" Peter cried, as he saw Caradoc Dearborn heading for the door. "Wait, okay, I had an idea, it's just an idea, um -- " Every once in a while they would tolerate his ideas, and he could only hope they'd tolerate this one.

Sirius Black was making eyes at Marlene McKinnon again, and she just finished flashing her wedding ring at him again -- good natured joking, nothing more, she knew, but the levity was almost out of place after the recent meetings. She looked at Peter Pettigrew. "Yes, Peter?" she asked as the Order stilled for the one last piece of business.

Peter pulled a camera from his pocket and raised it so everyone could see it. "I thought we could -- I dunno, take a picture -- just in case -- "

"In case we all forget how fucking good looking we are? Excellent," Benjy said, tipping his chair back to all four legs.

"You might need help with that, some of us need no reminder," Sirius called out, and there was a cascade of laughter that followed.

"Brilliant idea!" James cheered. "Come on, everyone by the wall!" He grabbed Lily's hand, and shot Remus a grin.

"Yeah, so the Death Eaters'll know who we all are and what we're doing?" Moody barked through the carefree buzz of voices. "Don't think so, Pettigrew!"

"Oh," Peter said, slowly, as though he'd only just realised that. "We'll keep it here in the cottage, sir, how about that?"

"C'mon, no harm in that," Benjy agreed. "Let's go, line up."

"What is this, a shooting gallery?" Edgar Bones demanded with a measure of black humour.

"Need a cigarette first?" Frank returned.

"How about a blindfold?" Fabian Prewett put in.

"Not unless you take me to dinner first," Caradoc interjected.

"Oh for God's sake," Dorcas sighed.

"No one needs to hear that," Marlene made a face.

"No kidding, line up and shut up," Lily joked.

Peter ushered everyone into line, even Hagrid and Moody and Aberforth Dumbledore, and conjured a stand. He stuck the camera there, set the time, and ran to go stand next to Remus, who he made sure to edge away from. "Smile!"