Running With Wolves

It had been decided most conspiratorially that with the Lord and Lady of Romanian away for the majority of the summer. That Christof and Salvia would hide Razvan within the castle walls of her home, until more permanent arrangements could be made. Razvan, little more than a peasant had not had much say in the matter; not that he was dumb enough to attempt to argue with royals.

“Razvan,” Her voice was a harsh whisper in the darkness and yet even so it sounded pleasant to his sleepy mind.

“M’lady,” He yawned rolling over in bed to see her peering down at him dressed in her nightclothes. “M’Lady!” He exclaimed sitting up right in bed, sleep slipping from his mind as the realization hit him that she had snuck into his bedchambers. He wrapped the blanket around his naked torso—such a display was not fit to be in the presence of royalty, much less such a pretty princess.

“Don’t M’lady me,” She huffed. She had told Razvan nearly every day not to refer to her as Princess, m’Lady, or any other name he could come up with to remind her of blue blood; Salvia hated it. She felt no different than any other person and she did not like being addressed as anything other than a normal person. “Come on Razvan I want to show you something!”

“Its not even light,” In the passing weeks Razvan had relaxed just a bit in her company and had found it easy to modestly complain to her about such trivial things as early morning wake ups.

“Exactly the point silly.” She grinned widely, her milky white teeth shinning against the moonlight streaming from the open window. Salvia had grown rather fond of Razvan’s presence within the castle walls. It was nice, she thought, to be near someone who she could go on adventures with; someone she could tell stories to in the wee hours of the night, explore the hidden passage ways of the castle with. “Up!” She commanded and blearily Razvan rubbed the sleep from his eyes, wrapped the blanket around his shoulders, and followed the bossy princess out of the room.

Her bare feet where silent against the polished wood floors as she crept through the candle lit halls of the castle with the silence of a church mouse. When she found Razvan following at an agonizingly slower speed, she reached for his hand impatiently, her soft smooth hands clashing against his rough calloused ones as she dragged him along.

“Princess,” He argued. His heart began to race at the prospect of being caught in the middle of the night holding hands with a princess.

Many men had been killed for less.

“Shut. Up.” She grunted leading him along before she tugged him around the corner and into the darkness of a large room. It took a moment for his eyes to adjust and realized he was in her bedchambers—now Razvan was really frightened, even Christof would disprove of this.

Her hand still gripped his tightly as she led him across the large spacious room to her window. For a moment Razvan was confused then suddenly startled when Salvia opened her large window and began climbing out of it.

“M’lady!”

“Call me M’lady again Razvan and I just might toss myself off this ledge.” She threatened.

Warily, Razvan peaked out the window to find that the ledge on which Salvia had daringly stepped out on was quite large and easy to navigate. Despite this, Razvan could not help but think that of the great height in which they were would make for a nasty fall.

Still though, Razvan found himself inexplicably following the princess daringly out onto the castle ledge. He followed her as the slopped path slipped upward toward the roof and it was then that Razvan understood that this was a sort of drainage root for the falling rain during nasty storms. When Salvia finally stopped her accent, it had seemed she only stopped because they could go no farther; they had reached the very peak of the castle.

“Come, sit.” She commanded.

Silently Razvan sat beside her and in that moment he was thankful that he had followed her, thankful that they had not been caught. Razvan had never seen such a beautiful view in all his life. Down below, the people of Bucharest appeared to be little more than ants from their great height. But from this vantage point the lights of the city were far more beautiful from such great heights. You could see for miles of the city’s lights; miles and miles of small balls of lights.

“I come up here every night.” Salvia explained. “Whenever something is wrong I find peace here in the darkness.”

“Thank you for showing me this,” Razvan answered quietly. He thought perhaps that he could sit here beside Salvia all night staring out at the view.

“Look up,” She whispered. Salvia lay back against the roof and gazed up at the night sky. “Look at the stars.”

The stars did not appear any closer from the castle roof than the town’s square. However with the city lights beneath them from this point, the sky appeared darker, the stars brighter.

“It is amazing.”

And Salvia grinned.

The two were silent for a long time as they lay side by side enjoying the view. Distantly Salvia imagined there was no other place she would rather be than up on the roof with Razvan.

“You know, I’ve never brought anyone up here before.” She commented quietly.

Razvan turned to her, “Why not?”

Salvia shrugged. “I was afraid no one would love this place as much as I. That they may find it silly.” Her head lolled to the side to face him. “I thought they’d break the magic.”

Break the magic, Razvan thought. For a moment it sounded silly but as Razvan thought about it there was something about this place that seemed magical.

“Look there,” Salvia pointed up to a cluster of stars. “Lupus, the Wolf.” Razvan tilted his head to the side but did not see the wolf constellation the way Salvia seemed to—he did not tell her this though. “and there, Canis Major, Orion’s dog.” Razvan could not see this one either but as a small child his mother had shown him Orion’s belt—that one he recognized. “My Papa used to tell me that when a loved one died we could honor them with a star in the sky.” She pointed to a bright one to the left. “I named that one after my canary—I’m not sure he meant in terms of deceased pets though…

Razvan smiled in the darkness and than his smile faltered. “Do you think I could name one after my mother?”

Salvia knew little about Razvan’s mother only that she had died when he was quite small.

“Of course.”

His eyes drifted across the sky, his eyes locking on the large luminescent moon. He wondered if it was okay to honor a dead prostitute mother with the largest brightest thing in the night sky. Sadly, Razvan thought, perhaps not. So his eyes traveled to the brightest star beside the moon.

“There, that one.”

“In the constellation Pleiades.” Salvia informed him. “Yes, I had a friend who died of a fever when I was younger. I named a star for her in that constellation as well.”

“What is Playdes?”

“Pleiades” Salvia corrected gently. “A tragic tale of sisters who could not live without their fallen sister and so killed themselves. Zeus honored them by placing them amongst the stars together so that they would never be without each other again.”

“That is sad,”

“and also sort of beautiful.” Salvia said thoughtfully. “Now my friend and your mother are amongst them, beautiful women forever in the stars. They may not be with us anymore, but they are still there, right where we can see them always.” Razvan said nothing to this. “What was her name?”

“Who?”

“Your mother.”

“Ana.” Razvan murmured quietly. “Ana Korzha.”

“What was she like?”

Sad, Razvan thought. He remembered her as being sad. She rarely smiled and she cried when she thought he was not looking. Then again, Razvan himself had cried as a child for his mother when he thought she was not looking. He remembered mean men abusing her, yelling at her, and making her cry. He remembered shutting himself away in a closet with his hands over his ears.

But Razvan would not tell her this.

“I don’t really remember.” He replied quietly. “I was very young.”

“I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

“Your mother. I’m sorry you do not have her any more.” Again Razvan could not find the words to answer her.

Somewhere in the distance wolves howled and Salvia smiled, closing her eyes.

“Wolves,” He cursed himself for sounding so startled by animals so far away in the presence of a princess; he sounded cowardly.

“Yes,” She sighed and Razvan could somehow here the smile in her voice. “wolves.”

“You like them?”

“Don’t you?”

“I don’t know.”

Salvia turned on her side and propped up her head against her hand and elbow. “Close your eyes and listen to them.”

He did as she told. He listened for a long while. He imagined them down their somewhere running and playing together, a family unit. Finally he said, “I almost wish to see them together with their pack—their family.”

He thought of how nice it must be to be a wolf with a pack; to have a mother and father, sisters and brothers and friends.

“I want to run with them. I dream of it sometimes.” Salvia admitted.

More howls joined the song.

“I’ve dreamed that too,” he admitted. He did not know why he would confess this, something he scarcely acknowledge himself.

“One day.” Salvia sighed dreamily. “one day.”

“What do you mean?”

Salvia turned to him, her eyebrows pulling together as she watched him for a moment. “Don’t you know?”

“Know what?”

Salvia was silent for a moment. If Razvan was indeed Lord Flavin’s son than it had to be true, right? Even if he was a half blood the gene was dominant.

“That you are Were.” She stated matter-of-factly.

“Were? What is that?”

Salvia sat up then, surprise and confusion written all over her face. How could he not know? How could a Were not know they were Were?

“Were.” She stated blankly. “Wolf. Shape shifter.” She pointed out to where the city lights gave way to the darkness of the forest. “Those aren’t just ordinary wolves. They are Were like you and I.”

Razvan thought it too impolitely to call the princess crazy but Salvia could sense he thought as much.

“Close your eyes.” She stated urgently, determination in her voice. He looked unconvinced but did as she requested. He could sense her drawing near but he did not open his eyes. “Hear their howls, their call. Feel the moon on your face, and the cool summer air on your skin.” He wanted to tell her that one could not feel moonlight on your skin but he decided against it. “Do you hear them? Hear how they call for others to join them, run amongst them.”

A sensation like butterflies in your stomach suddenly took over Razvan and his eyes snapped open.

“No,” He stated panicked. “No I don’t.”

But he did.

Salvia frowned, disappointment evident in her face. “You don’t dream of them?”

“Them? No.” he hesitated and looked away. The Wolves howled in synchrony and it gave him goose bumps. He wondered how many of them there were. He wondered what it was like to run free with reckless abandoned like they did. “But I do dream of one.”

“Tell me,” Salvia did not know why but she was desperately hopeful that Razvan was like her. She did not know why but she really really really wanted Razvan to be like her. She did not care about whoever else in Romanian was Were and who was not as long as Razvan was; somehow she needed him to not make herself feel so alone.

He looked away. “I don’t know,” He mumbled. He had never thought anything of the dreams before but in this context he suddenly felt uncomfortable. He never thought they meant anything but with their conversation in his head he wondered if perhaps there was something more to them. “I see a wolf, a white wolf.”

Salvia shivered but she said nothing. “What happens?”

“Nothing,” He shrugged, suddenly feeling distantly self-conscious. “She just stays beside me. I was very lonely as a child. It was just my imagination, a companion for myself.”

“She? How do you know the wolf you see is female?”

“I don’t know,” He shrugged. “I just know that she is.”

Salvia looked out at the city. She did not know whether she felt excited or sad at that moment. It was a very odd feeling and it made Salvia uncomfortable to think to hard about it.

“Do you think I am crazy, Razvan?”

“A princess that scales castle walls?” His voice held carefully light amusement. “You are…unique.”

“That is not what I meant.” She frowned.

He sighed looking away. “Yes I know it isn’t.” He was silent for a moment. “To answer your question,” He hesitated than sighed as he ran a hand through his hair. “No…no I think, perhaps, maybe you are not crazy. And if you are, I suppose that would make me mad as well.”

“Why is that?”

He glanced at the princess than looked away hurriedly. “In many ways that wolf was my only friend. In my head it was my one ally and I just…felt safe or as though I belonged somehow.” His eyes met hers than. “Somehow, the same way I feel about the about that wolf is the same way I feel about you.”

He saw her smile and a breath of relief left her.

“You are not the only one who dreams of a wolf,” She said quietly. “My wolf, I see him at night when I cry myself to sleep sometimes. He’s just this big gentle grey wolf who lays beside in flowery meadows, guarding me as I watch the stars. They are the best dreams I have ever had.” She said quietly.

“What do they mean?”

“I don’t know,” her words were honest but troubled. What did they mean. Surely, Salvia understood who she was, not only a princess but also a Were of Bucharest. But she wondered if other Weres did not dream of a pack running free but of one wolf beside them while they themselves are in their human forms. Salvia did not understand but she would find out.

Salvia shivered as the cool breeze brushed against her skin. Razvan hesitantly began to remove the blanket from around his shoulders to give to the princess but in the moment he opened his arms, Salvia slipped into the space and pressed herself against him. Surprise struck Razvan and for a moment he did not move. He had never been this close to a girl before and he was sure that being this near her, a princess no less, was enough to get him killed; she wrapped her arms around his torso and distantly Razvan thought for this moment he’d risk the repercussions.

Salvia herself did not know what had taken over her only that she had had the urge to be nearer him, wrapped in the warmth of the blanket against him. In the moment her arms slipped around him her breath caught and for a moment she froze; she had never been so near a boy. Yet she felt perfectly safe and right against him, wrapped in the warmth of the blanket with her ear against his heart. She could not bring herself to imagine what would happen if they were caught. Razvan’s arms wrapped around her and suddenly she could not bring herself to care.

It was hard for Salvia to think of anything other than that night on the roof in the following weeks. It had become a habit of theirs, to meet up on the roof and listen the howls. Many times they had fallen asleep and woken with the sun. She knew the servants were growing suspicious but she also knew they would say nothing—A servant that talked rumors about the royal family would be out of a job if not worst in some cases. Christof had warned her not to grow attached but it was far to late for that. Salvia was enthralled with Razvan and even Christof could not follow his own advice for he found fast friendship within the blacksmith’s apprentice.

Somehow, someone who felt so little of himself had come to mean something to those who were so much greater than he.