Fic: The Seeds of Change

[estelraca]

A one-shot in my werewolf AU 'verse, exploring Courfeyrac, Combeferre and Enjolras' backstory.  Written for RobertWickham for Barricade Day, since she had expressed some interest in Courfeyrac's backstory.

 

The Seeds of Change

"Geroux, please stop looking at me that way." Looking up from the book he had been reading to study the alpha standing in the common room doorway, Courfeyrac tries to smile, to make the moment lighter, but his hackles are still itching, all his instincts telling him he is in danger.

Geroux sighs, leaning against the doorframe, his arms crossed in front of his chest, which at least means that violence won't be coming soon. "Looking at you like what? Like you're a young, strong, unbonded potential alpha who's been living in my territory, with my pack, for the last two weeks?"

"I was thinking 'like you want to eat me', but your way is a bit more eloquent." Courfeyrac ducks his head, making himself intentionally submissive. "I'm not a threat to you, Geroux. I wasn't when I came and I'm not now."

"I know that. My head knows that. My instincts, on the other hand…" Geroux stares hard at Courfeyrac for a few seconds before intentionally looking away, dropping the tension level in the room. "I like you, Courfeyrac. That's why I gave you permission to stay with my pack for a bit in the first place. But we both know you're not going to join my pack, not even as a temporary member. At least, not while I'm alpha. Not unless you want to fight me."

"I don't want to fight you. I just need somewhere safe, somewhere I can stay while I'm looking for wolves of my own." Courfeyrac smiles, but the expression fades when Geroux doesn't return it. "Am I really making you that nervous?"

"No. But I don't intend to wait until you do." Geroux seems honestly regretful, almost embarrassed, but there's a firmness underlying his words that makes them law. "I'm sorry, you need to find somewhere else to stay."

Courfeyrac sighs, studying the faded carpeting that cushions all the rooms in Geroux's den. He's enjoyed staying with the older female alpha. He's even had small little fantasies about staying all summer, watching how Geroux ran his pack while Courfeyrac worked on collecting one of his own. He's too close to Geroux's dominance level, though, in all honesty probably stronger than Geroux though Geroux's loyal pack and strong pack-bonds would give the alpha an edge in any fight, and it's been kindness on Geroux's part to allow Courfeyrac to stay even this long. "Where do you recommend I go?"

"Depends on what you intend to do." Geroux relaxes slightly. "You could always leave the city, see about finding a territory first and wolves to fill it with second. Or, if you're really determined to watch the stray migration, you could try to find a stronger alpha, ask him if he'll be comfortable allowing you to stay on his land. There are a few alphas around that are stronger than you, and you could join their pack temporarily like a less powerful stray would."

It's certainly a possibility, one that Courfeyrac had been considering prior to meeting Geroux and finding a temporary refuge. "Which alphas?"

"Badeau."

Courfeyrac raises both eyebrows, his surprise and dismay clear in his startled tone. "Badeau? Really?"

"You asked who was stronger than you." Geroux has the heart to look mildly embarrassed again, at least. "He's stronger than you."

"He's also a bully and a bastard, and even if he allowed me to be a temporary part of his pack, I wouldn't take it. I'm not letting him touch my soul. I'd like to keep it a little… cleaner than that." Courfeyrac shudders at the thought of being part of Badeau's pack.

Geroux smiles. "Careful how you talk about other alphas, even the ones you don't like. In all honesty, Badeau probably wouldn't accept you anyway. He tends not to like too much independence in his pack, and you, my friend, have a wild streak in you. I suppose you could try Armand."

Courfeyrac brightens at that prospect. "The older alpha who runs the university, right? His wolves seem content."

"He's a good wolf, a good alpha. And he and I are on friendly terms. He tends not to like strong young wolves on his territory, but you're charismatic enough you might be able to sway his mind." Geroux steps forward, rubbing his chin against Courfeyrac's head, marking him with Geroux's scent. "Tell Armand I sent you, and that I vouch for your interest in strays alone. Talk fast but talk honestly. If he doesn't work out I'll probably send you to Paquet next, so don't get too discouraged even if he turns you away."

"Thank you." Courfeyrac tucks his chin low again in intentional submission, waits for Geroux to turn away, dismissing him, and then heads towards the door. Giving Geroux some time away from him will hopefully make the alpha feel more secure.

Besides, he's curious to meet Armand, a wolf who manages to straddle human and wolf society with apparent ease. How does he do it? Why did he first decide to do it? How has he managed to involve himself so heavily in human culture without alienating the other wolves in the vicinity?

Courfeyrac is smiling as he takes to the street, possibilities once again unfurling in his mind.

The world has been nothing but change and travel since he left his birth pack, but overall he's found it to be quite enjoyable.

XXX

Courfeyrac doesn't know what's happening when he approaches Armand and the young wolf with him, the two other wolves standing near a small tree struggling to thrive in the teeming city, a clear area surrounding them that humans seem to be unconsciously avoiding.

The first thing that strikes Courfeyrac is the sense of concentrated power in the area. He tries to look at Armand and finds his eyes sliding away, a sensation he's never felt before flooding through his mind, urging him to bow his head, to tuck his tail, to make himself small and vulnerable and something to be protected rather than attacked.

Courfeyrac pauses, blinking, realizing that he's submitting. He's honestly and blatantly submitting, an instinct called up from somewhere deep inside him, beneath all his thoughts and the learned submission he showed to the adults in his birth-pack and the intentional submission he's shown to Geroux to ease tensions between them. It's something Courfeyrac had assumed might happen some day, when he met an alpha who was clearly and unequivocally stronger than him, but it's still surprising to actually feel it.

Well, it should make it easier for Armand to accept him if the old male is obviously the winner in any fight.

Taking another step forward, Courfeyrac tries to look at the young blond wolf currently arguing quietly with Armand and freezes.

It's not Armand triggering his instincts.

It's the other wolf with him.

Drawing a deep breath, sidling closer to Armand and the strange wolf, Courfeyrac tries to catch both their scents. Armand's is easy to pick up, because Courfeyrac has been catching traces of it ever since he entered the alpha's territory, left here and there with abandon, meant to be seen and recognized, tangled into the scents that all of Armand's pack leaves behind. Armand is a strong wolf, stronger than Courfeyrac though not by much, though like Geroux his pack-bonds would make any alpha battle between him and Courfeyrac swing decidedly in his favor.

The other one, though, the blond alpha…

Courfeyrac doesn't know if alpha is even the proper word for what he's smelling from that one. The blond is female, with one other wolf's scent tied into his, and he exudes power and certainty, in his scent, in his stance, in his words, though he speaks quietly, moves precisely and without threat.

The blond's voice is soft, determined but not aggressive. "I need an education. I need to understand human law. Allow me to attend the university."

"No. This is my territory, Enjolras, and though I understand and sympathize with your position, my rules are law here. I will not tolerate another, younger alpha on my territory, and that is the end of this discussion." Armand turns to leave, clearly dismissing Enjolras, and Courfeyrac finds himself drawing in a sharp breath.

Does Armand not realize what he's doing? Can't he smell this creature? How could he so blithely turn him away?

Courfeyrac realizes the answer as soon as he considers the question—or, rather, the answers. There is something unreal and unearthly about Enjolras' scent, about the power that he wields, and Armand may simply not believe it.

And even if he does, Armand's best chance at defeating this threatening alpha will be now, before the young female has a chance to cement a pack and territory, when Armand has many pack-bonds to draw on and Enjolras has only one.

Taking a hesitant step closer to the two wolves, straining his ears to ensure he doesn't miss anything, Courfeyrac licks his lips nervously. Should he stay? Should he run? Should he try to back Armand now, to curry his favor, or will he simply be presenting himself as another target to Armand's undoubtedly stressed wolf?

"Don't interfere." The new wolf seems to melt out of the shadows, appearing in front of Courfeyrac between one breath and the next. He looks older than Enjolras, but there is a gravity to his voice and a steadiness to his eyes that is very similar to the blond female's. Even without his nose telling him that this wolf belongs to Enjolras, Courfeyrac would suspect the two were connected.

"I don't plan on causing trouble if you don't." Courfeyrac takes a step back, and the new wolf relaxes slightly.

"We're here with a purpose." The new wolf almost turns toward Enjolras and Armand but stops himself, keeping his eyes locked on Courfeyrac. "Enjolras won't fight unless he has to."

Armand's laughter rings out, a startled, disbelieving bark, and Courfeyrac cranes his neck so that he can see Enjolras and Armand again.

Armand has turned away from the younger alpha once more, shaking his head in disbelief.

Enjolras reaches out, touches Armand's shoulder very gently, and when the older alpha turns to look at him Enjolras lowers his head, just a fraction. "Please. I will do what I have to in order to attend university—in order for Combeferre and I to attend university. Say yes and let us end this."

Courfeyrac finds himself holding his breath, can see that Enjolras' beta is doing the same, as all eyes turn to Armand.

"No." Armand's answer is a soft exhalation. "No, Enjolras. I won't. I can't."

Enjolras doesn't say anything. He simply inclines his head even further, his blond hair sliding forward to hide his features for a second, and then, in a moment that lasts an eternity and yet is almost too fast for Courfeyrac to see, he is moving.

Armand hits the ground hard, Enjolras' arms locked around him, Enjolras' teeth in his shoulder, and Courfeyrac knows as his knees buckle under him that Enjolras and Armand are fighting on far more than a physical level.

Mine.

Submit.

The claiming is a hammer-blow against Courfeyrac's mind, a sense of being tugged between two primal, incomprehensible forces, and he finds himself scuttling backward, away from the battle. Even the humans seem to know that something more than a simple brawl is happening, their heads bowed, their eyes turned away from the fighting alphas.

Combeferre exhales a soft whine, his eyes closing, and blood begins to slide from both his nostrils.

And then, as quickly as it started, it's over.

Enjolras' scent shifts.

Combeferre's scent shifts.

It's the worst possible outcome of an alpha battle. It's something that rarely happens, that requires a great deal of strength on the part of the aggressor and, usually, an unhappy pack who doesn't throw themselves behind their alpha when he calls for their aid. It's not something that should have been able to happen, not with how strong Armand is and how content his pack seems to be.

But is has happened.

Enjolras is alpha of Armand's pack, has control over all Armand's pack-bonds, and Armand has nothing.

Staring at the huddled, wide-eyed form of the male ex-alpha, Courfeyrac finds himself wanting to sob. What is the old wolf going to do, robbed of his people, his home, his place? What must it feel like, to fail his pack so quickly, so completely?

"Enjolras, no." Combeferre whispers the words, so quietly that Courfeyrac doubts that Enjolras can hear them, even with their enhanced senses. "Not like this."

Scents shift again, and Combeferre smells simply of himself and Enjolras, the small start of a pack, nothing more, nothing stolen.

"I will not take your people. Those who follow me will do so because they want to, not because I force them to." Enjolras stands, slowly, as though each movement hurts him, his expression a rictus of distaste and dismay. "I will do what I have to in order to complete my goals, but I will not become a tyrant in my quest to end tyranny. Give me my education, Armand. Give any who ask their education, and keep your place and your pack. Agreed?"

Enjolras holds out a hand toward the still-prone Armand.

For almost a full minute Armand simply stares up at Enjolras, his eyes glassy, unfocused, blood drying on his face. Then he reaches up, his motions jerky, and takes Enjolras' hand, allowing Enjolras to help him to his feet.

Enjolras whispers something into Armand's ear, something that Courfeyrac can't hear. Then Enjolras squeezes Armand's shoulder, a gentle gesture of comfort and camaraderie, before turning toward Combeferre.

Courfeyrac freezes, not knowing if he should run or stand his ground, pretend he doesn't know what has just happened or press Enjolras for more information.

Enjolras' ice-blue eyes scan up and down Courfeyrac's body, the female's nose twitching briefly as he takes in Courfeyrac's scent. "You came to see Armand?"

Deciding that answering is his best bet but not trusting his tongue, Courfeyrac gives a slight nod.

"I would give him some time to recover. That was a… trying event for him." A shiver runs the length of Enjolras' body, and Combeferre's arm is suddenly around the blond's shoulders, Combeferre's head nuzzled against Enjolras' neck. Enjolras' body relaxes, slowly, and perhaps his eyes aren't quite so much like ice, have more depth to them than that, ice-cold water that one could drown in without noticing. "If it's an education you came to ask him about, though, I promise that it will be available to any of our people who desire it. More than that… more than that will have to wait for another day."

"Be safe." Combeferre lifts his head, falling into a more human position at Enjolras' side, though his arm stays around his alpha's shoulders. "I'd get yourself off Armand's land before his pack comes. They're going to be… distressed about these events."

Distressed.

Trying.

Courfeyrac studies the two wolves in disbelief. How can they summarize something so amazing, so incomprehensible, into such succinct words?

Courfeyrac doesn't wish them well as the two wolves head off.

He doesn't approach Armand, either, instead retreating back to Geroux's land, certain that the news he bears will buy him at least a little more clemency before his eviction.

XXX

Courfeyrac's wrong about the news buying him more time.

Geroux watches as Courfeyrac packs his two bags with the totality of his worldly possessions, his spare clothes and the remainder of the funds that his birth-pack graced him with that he hasn't put into a human bank and the handful of books and knickknacks he's collected over his three months of traveling. The alpha's expression slides between shame and frustration. "I'm sorry, Courfeyrac. You can stay on my land for a few days still, near the border, though be wary of pressing into Armand's territory right now."

"I know. I appreciate it." Courfeyrac smiles at the older female. "You're just following your instincts, doing what you need to do in order to protect your pack."

"He took down Armand." Fear fills Geroux's scent once more. "He took down an alpha who has been here, been in command, for over two decades. And now he's demanding that all the other alphas in the city meet with him tomorrow."

"Requesting." Courfeyrac makes the correction quietly. "The letter was quite polite."

"Who could turn him down after a display like that?" Lowering his head, pressing hard at the bridge of his nose, Geroux sighs deeply. "This is a dangerous time. An uncertain time. I can't risk having unstable elements here, distracting me, disrupting my pack. If you weren't so strong I'd simply make you pack temporarily, but that isn't an option. So…"

"I have to go. I understand." Courfeyrac does understand, now, better than he would have this morning. He remembers the way his head bowed without his permission, the difficulty he had facing Enjolras squarely. Their instincts are deep and powerful things, difficult to ignore, difficult to circumvent, and it would be cruel of him to push Geroux further right now.

Geroux is only trying to be a good alpha.

"Go to Paquet. Ask him to accept you, at least for a short time. Tell him Geroux requested it. He and I are on good terms, and though he tends to be rather afraid of change he's a solid, decent alpha. There are worse alphas you could learn from." Geroux closes the distance between them, wrapping his arms around Courfeyrac, though he keeps his head elevated above Courfeyrac's, maintaining the dominant position. "You are one of the best potential alphas I have seen in a long time, Courfeyrac. Choose your wolves well, choose your territory well, and you could establish a long and prosperous pack."

"Those words mean a lot to me." There's a bright, honest grin as Courfeyrac's face as he returns the embrace before pulling away, lifting his bags onto his shoulder. "I will keep them in mind."

He does keep them in mind, too, though they aren't the words that ring most loudly in his thoughts when he closes his eyes.

I will not become a tyrant in my quest to end tyranny.

The young alpha's words haunt him, and Courfeyrac knows where he is going to go, though he doesn't know the exact directions for how to get there.

XXX

He finds them as much through luck as through skill.

They're clever strays—if stray is the proper word for this proto-pack, this group of two young wolves who are invading others' territory and stealing their packs and then returning them.

Courfeyrac is a clever stray, too, and he has made friends throughout his time in the city and on the outskirts, human friends and wolf friends. The wolves are all eager to talk about the new alpha and his quiet companion, about what they will mean for the future; the humans remember Enjolras' beauty and piercing blue eyes. Between the information he gathers and his knowledge of Enjolras' scent—Combeferre's scent—which he is able to follow as soon as he picks it up, Courfeyrac is able to track the two to their temporary den.

They haven't been there long. There scent doesn't permeate the area, has been intentionally kept as minimal as possible if Courfeyrac is reading things properly, but there is no mistaking it.

Enjolras and Combeferre are here.

Courfeyrac knocks on the door, a brisk staccato set of taps, and plants his feet firmly before he can think better of it.

No one answers the door.

Frowning in annoyance, Courfeyrac knocks again, louder, more determined.

He's come all this way. He isn't going to leave until he has a chance to talk with these new wolves.

He's just raised his hand to knock a third time when the door opens, just slightly, allowing him to see Combeferre's frame and not much else. Combeferre frowns at him, the male wolf's body tense, his teeth showing more than they need to as he spits out clipped words. "What do you want?"

"To talk with you." Courfeyrac smiles in what he hopes is a charming way, staring the male in the eyes. After a few deliberate tense seconds, long enough for Combeferre to realize that Courfeyrac is doing it because he wishes to, not because he has to, Courfeyrac looks away. "To talk with your alpha. I'm… intrigued by what happened today."

"Intrigued." Combeferre's face goes carefully blank, betraying none of his emotions. "When you say intrigued, what do you mean?"

"Impressed. Horrified. Fascinated. There are many words I could use to describe my reaction to what happened, but I think intrigued covers most of them. Just as 'trying' was an apt description of Armand's experience, and 'distressed' is undoubtedly one of the things that Armand's pack was feeling." Courfeyrac raises his chin slightly, defiantly. "Your alpha won an alpha fight with the oldest, most well-established alpha in Paris. In less than twenty-four hours he's caused more chaos than I have in three months of wandering around the city, searching for strays for my pack. And he said something. Something that intrigued me. I wanted him to explain it further."

"That's the only reason you came?" Combeferre hesitates, his body half-turning back to the room and, undoubtedly, the other occupant. "Just to talk with Enjolras and I?"

"Just to talk." Courfeyrac relaxes, turning his gaze away from Combeferre again as he realizes that the beta is being protective of his alpha. "I'm no threat."

"Combeferre?" Enjolras' voice is slurred, the syllables barely recognizable, thick with sleep. "What's going on?"

Combeferre meets Courfeyrac's eyes, his expression considering. Then his arm darts out, drags Courfeyrac forward, and the door closes quickly but quietly behind him. "Leave your bags anywhere you'd like. You're staying for at least the night."

Placing his bags in an unoccupied corner, Courfeyrac looks around the small room, taking in the travel bags, very similar to his, that are tucked up against the bed and the lack of any personalized touches in the room.

Enjolras blinks at Courfeyrac from a curled-up position on the bed, the sole piece of furniture in the room, his blue eyes bleary and unfocused. "We… know you?"

Combeferre perches at Enjolras' side, reaching out and running a hand through his alpha's hair in a soothing gesture. "He was there this afternoon. No, Enjolras, don't try to reach for my memories. You're worn out, remember? You need to rest."

"Oh. Right." Enjolras settles back down, his head pillowed on his arms in a movement that would look much more natural in wolf form. Bright blue eyes continue to study Courfeyrac. "You're a friend?"

"I don't know yet. I'm certainly not an enemy, though. My name's Courfeyrac." Courfeyrac moves slowly toward the bed, keeping his head down, allowing the instincts that being near Enjolras brings to the fore to dictate his posture. It's not for Enjolras' benefit, though. It's for Combeferre's, because Courfeyrac is fairly certain Combeferre will jump on him and rip his throat out—or at least attempt to—as soon as he's given any provocation. "I wanted to talk to the two of you about what you did."

Enjolras whines, a low, unhappy sound deep in his throat. "I did what I had to."

"Armand left us no choice." Combeferre continues to stroke his alpha's head, his own head held low, frustration in his voice. "If he simply let us do what we requested, it wouldn't have had to come to this."

"What you requested was… a lot." Courfeyrac chooses his words carefully. "There are very few alphas who are happy about unbonded wolves on their territory, even during the spring. Believe me, I've been dealing with it for several months."

"We've been dealing with it for several years." Combeferre sighs. "But it doesn't need to be that way. Why should we see each other as a threat first? We're capable of seeing beyond that. Wolves stand together against the humans. So why do we turn on each other so eagerly, even when we're young and not threatening?"

"But you are threatening." Courfeyrac's eyes dart to Enjolras', meet them briefly and then look away again. "You just proved why you're threatening. A young alpha can supplant an older one."

"A happy pack won't be eager to change alphas." Enjolras' voice is still slurred, an almost sing-song, half-asleep quality to it as his eyes slit closed. "Alpha shouldn't be threatened by it, anyway. New ideas. New chances. Might be good ideas."

"Rest, Enjolras." Combeferre's voice is soft, his hand slow and gentle as it massages Enjolras' scalp, down his neck, and then back up. "Rest, please."

Courfeyrac lets the silence continue for a few minutes, watches as Enjolras' breathing takes on the slow, even pace of sleep and Combeferre's tension dissipates with it. Only when he's certain Enjolras is asleep, deeply asleep, does Courfeyrac risk talking in a whisper. "So he is only mortal."

"Yes." Combeferre meets Courfeyrac's eyes evenly again, and Courfeyrac finds himself drawing a deep breath, trying to determine whether he or Combeferre is the stronger wolf. He can't reach a decision, their dominance too evenly matched. Deciding hierarchy between them would involve a physical fight. "He's a wonderful wolf, but he is, as you say, only mortal. I've never seen him this exhausted and drained before."

"I've never heard of someone doing anything like what he just did." Courfeyrac allows his honest awe and respect to seep into his voice. "If I hadn't seen it myself, if I wasn't there to watch the fall-out this afternoon as the other alphas learned from Armand's pack what had happened… I don't think I would have believed it."

"It hurt him." Tears touch Combeferre's eyes, though they are blinked away before they fall, and Courfeyrac realizes that Combeferre isn't as old as he thought, that he and Combeferre might actually be age-mates. "More than anything else we've done so far, it hurt him."

Combeferre isn't talking about the exhaustion. Courfeyrac knows that with nothing else having to be said, and he reaches out to touch Combeferre's hand where it still rests on Enjolras' back.

For a second he thinks he's been too forward, that Combeferre is going to pull away or snarl at him. Then Combeferre lowers his head, his shoulders relaxing infinitesimally, and Courfeyrac smiles, curiously happy to be accepted by this wolf at such an important, vulnerable moment.

Courfeyrac allows the silence to stretch for several minutes before breaking it. "Enjolras said that he wouldn't become a tyrant while fighting tyranny." Leaning forward, Courfeyrac tries to keep his eagerness in check. "What did he mean?"

"What he said." Combeferre smiles, his eyes brightening. "There's a lot wrong with our world, Courfeyrac. There's no need for a lot of what we do to each other. We are capable of working together more than we do, both among ourselves and with the humans."

"You're interested in working with the humans?" Courfeyrac forces himself to stay still. At least it's easier to do that in his human form, though he can feel phantom ears straining forward, and his front paws itch to dance, to show his excitement through movement. "Why?"

"Because our worlds are related. We can't stay hidden forever—we shouldn't have to. Enjolras and I think that part of why we are so defensive, part of why our people always feel so threatened, is that we live in constant fear of being found, of being exposed, of being hunted like we were in the past." Combeferre leans forward, speaking softly still so as not to wake Enjolras but with obvious eagerness. "But why should we have to hide? Why should the humans have to view us with fear? We all know humans. We all interact with them, to a lesser or greater extent."

"Many to a lesser."

"Yes. Certainly, many keep their interactions to a lesser extent, only as much as is needed to ensure food and property are available for their pack. But we still do it, and I would argue that most wolves have one or two humans that they like, even." Combeferre's free hand reaches out, touches Courfeyrac's. "And why shouldn't we? They aren't that different from us. They're fascinating. And we can work together. Enjolras and I have done it. We can help them. We can free them from their own tyrants, their own fanatics, and in so doing we can free ourselves."

"I don't understand all that you're saying." Courfeyrac allows his hand to shift off of Combeferre's, to rest against Enjolras' bright blond hair, while he turns the other so that he and Combeferre's fingers are touching though not quite interlocking. "But I suspect you're not going to let me leave until he's well enough to fight or travel again."

"Not if I can help it." Combeferre smiles, a wry, almost sheepish expression. "I think I'd prefer to avoid a fight between us, though. It would be close."

"Very close. One of us fighting for his freedom, the other for his alpha." Courfeyrac looks between Enjolras and Combeferre. "But if I'm understanding you correctly, you and he have no intentions of stealing anyone's freedom."

"I want more freedom, not less, and so does he." Combeferre strokes Enjolras' head once more. "I also want us both to survive to see the world we're dreaming of making, though."

"Explain it to me." Courfeyrac settles into the most comfortable position he can while maintaining his contact with both Enjolras and Combeferre. "Tell me about these changes you want to make to the world."

Combeferre does. Courfeyrac doesn't agree with everything he says, but he finds the prospects presented fascinating, the possibilities inherent in the scope and grandeur of Enjolras and Combeferre's dreams enchanting.

He finds the way that Combeferre argues with him enticing, too, in a way that he can't quite put into words. He would happily continue to do it, but Enjolras wasn't the only one who took mental injuries during the fight, and Combeferre's eyes are drooping as the half-full moon sails high into the sky.

"I give you my word that I won't leave until morning, and I won't hurt you or him while I'm here." Courfeyrac gives Combeferre's hand a gentle squeeze. "You can rest."

"I don't think I have much choice but to accept your word." Combeferre smiles, returning the pressure on Courfeyrac's hand. "But I think I trust you."

They all sleep together on the single bed, huddled as a pack would, Combeferre and Courfeyrac's bodies sheltering and warming Enjolras'.

In the morning Enjolras wakes, tired but alert, and Combeferre apologizes to Courfeyrac for detaining him.

Combeferre gestures toward the door. "You're free to go."

"And I will consider leaving." Courfeyrac looks between Combeferre and Enjolras. "First, why don't we share some breakfast?"

They share a meal.

They share an intense discussion, and Courfeyrac finds Enjolras just as adept and intrepid a thinker as Combeferre, the two of them sometimes in agreement and sometimes not.

Courfeyrac doesn't touch his bags when they return to their room, and neither Combeferre nor Enjolras tell him to leave again.

 

Comments

[bobbiewickham]

Oh, this is delightful! I love the inter-wolf dynamics and power struggles, and Combeferre and Courfeyrac sizing each other up, and Courfeyrac being blown away but still not wholly cowed by Enjolras, and Combeferre being protective. The part where the pack-bonds were ripped away from the alpha was appropriately horrifying. Thank you so much!

[estelraca]

You're very welcome! I'm glad that you liked it. I get far too much enjoyment out of writing protective!Combeferre, and a younger, curious, not-certain-of-the-others Courfeyrac was delightful to explore.

[box_of_doom]

Oooh! It's wonderful to see this part of their backstory, and actually get to witness the alpha battle, since it's such an integral part of what people can and can't do in the general canon of this story. (Of course, I'd love to see the battle for dominance and Courfeyrac and Combeferre deciding that they should be mates, but THIS IS A WONDERFUL MOMENT AND AN EXCELLENT DRABBLE AND YAY!!!!

Also: I'm noticing a recurring thing with soul-battles (or whatever you want to call them) and nosebleeds from you.... Though I daresay it's better than the dirty thoughts -> nosebleeds trope that's generally out there.

Thank you for sharing this with all of us. =3

[estelraca]

I might end up writing C&C going at it at some point, because it was a very important part of their relationship development, but it didn't quite fit into this drabble.

...I do have a thing with soul-wounds leading to bleeding. It's something that started when I was, oh, fourteen and made my very first original setting. There was an even an order of bleeding there (nosebleed=not good, nose and eyes=very not good, nose/eyes/ears=trying to die from soul wound). It doesn't seem to be just me, though. I was very happy when playing Bioshock: Infinite because psychic injuries led to bleeding there, and I think I've seen it other places, too. But yes, it is a trope you will probably have to suffer through a lot in my writing.

Thanks for reading and reviewing! It's appreciated.

[enjolras]

This is interesting.

In the beginning, there's Courfeyrac with a bit of a similarity of Marius. Small wonder he's ready and willing to give people a place to stay and such when he was something of a stray (in human terms as well) himself.

Then we have the battle. And it's interesting, to me, in how you wrote it. It's just wham-bam-thank you ma'am, and it's the aftermath that's really the terrifying part. The act's implications are more chilling than Enjolras' move, and how people spoke about it gave more depth to the act. And I think that's very appropriate. Especially for a battle. So much can happen in the blink of an eye. To not speak about such an event would offer it a sort of forgiveness. To let it go is to condone. Instead, it's stated over and over and stressed throughout your longer fic.

So much so that it's lovely seeing Enjolras afterwards, exhausted and not at all his eloquent self. Which is all well and good because I've never seen a fic that had Combeferre doing the explaining. Combeferre tends to stay the silent partner with Enjolras explaining the ins and outs of what they're doing. I very much love this dynamic and it suits them all well.

The ending was perfect. A neat little footnote indicating that there's a lot more in coming.

[estelraca]

One day I may write up that battle from either Enjolras or Armand's perspective, but from an outsider perspective an awful lot happened very quickly and the aftershocks are still being felt years later. Like you said, it's very appropriate for battles--something small, something fast, can change everything dramatically.

I'm surprised that there isn't more with Combeferre doing the explaining. It seems like a fairly natural thing for him to do.

[ancslove]

Another catch-up! Geroux, with such an emphasis on tradition and instinct above all else, should be a character I should hate, but you make him noble and sympathetic. And the battle between Enjolras and Armand was nicely dizzying, seen through Courfeyrac's POV. But my favorite part, of course, is the scene with E/C/C. It's interesting, and a testament to his bond with Combeferre, that Enjolras was ok with being that vulnerable in front of a stranger. And I love protective, compassionate Combeferre and curious Courfeyrac. (Whoo, alliteration!)

[estelraca]

I absolutely love both protective Combeferre and curious Courfeyrac. I also love seeing them play off one another. I'm glad that Geroux comes across as sympathetic--I rather like him, and I'm trying to make him one of the more reasonable alphas in the area.

But again, it's also just good to have you back and posting and commenting on things! You have been sorely missed.