Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Though the night seemed peaceful, Samael could not rest. His family slept soundly not far away, yet he could not calm himself enough to consider lying down beside them, and so he wandered aimlessly nearby. His hunger was great that evening, and the rumbling in the out of his stomach hummed through his body. Samael knew he would have to eat something larger than his usual meals tonight. As he sat his large frame down by a calm riverbed, he considered his options… fish? The meat was not worth the effort of the bones. Chicken? Surely he would be hunted, should he ruffle a single feather. Deer? Perhaps…

As he sifted through the nearby wildlife he knew of, his gaze meandered to the water’s glassy surface, a perfect mirror in the moonlight. Samael’s thoughts slipped away from him as he examined his reflection. Had his nose always looked like it had been broken? Has his skin always been so dark? Had he always had those scars across his cheek? Had his stubble always been so coarse? An exasperated sigh left his lips as he looked at himself. As if to drown the thoughts swimming in his head, Samael scooped up a handful of the current and brought it to his face, washing off the grime of the day. He turned his face away from the water, standing once again and turning to face the woods.

Samael’s pace was relaxed as he made his way through the dense woods, nearby trees all marked with scars left by what looked like giant claws, and yet the Redguard ignored them, unfazed. Familiar with the area, he followed an unmarked path of his own design, weaving between foliage and tree trunks, making certain he created no sound. As he strayed further and further from camp, a faint scent pervaded the air, a familiar one: blood. Blood and sweat. It sat heavy in his lungs as Samael drew a deep breath, letting the smell linger. Despite his experience in the field, he was unable to tell for certain what the source of the scent was. It was large, whatever it was, and Samael was famished. He followed the trail, the sweet taste of it making him salivate already. His sharp tongue traced the curve of his even sharper teeth, his canines very nearly drawing blood as he swiped under them.

As Samael gradually grew closer to the source of the smell, a quiet whisper of song graced his ears, though the lyrics and melody were unfamiliar to him. It took him half a second more to realize the blood and sweat was likely not from an animal, but from whoever had the guts to be singing in the forest, let alone so late at night. And yet his curiosity persisted. Perhaps the musically gifted hunter would be willing to share their prey, and so with that thought in mind, Samael continued to follow the sound.

It was not much longer before a figure came into Samael’s view: a young looking man with a slender frame kneeling in front of a small thorny bush, long copper hair falling in loose waves to the ground. This was certainly no hunter, not by Samael’s standards, and unless the man was about to open a snare, there was no prey to be bargained for. Samael stayed hidden from view, just around a nearby oak, observing the man. The orange haired man continued his tune, harvesting small berries from the bush he knelt beside. As the Redguard studied the stranger, he found that his pants were no stranger to mud and grass, old stains covering the knees and calves of the fabric. This must be something he does quite often. A gardener, perhaps? He stayed silent as the man funneled the berries into a glass bauble, hooking the container to a loop on a satchel he carried slung over his shoulder. Finishing both his work and his song, the man stood, his hair falling to about his upper thigh, the ends browned from their time in the muddy earth moments ago. As he turned, Samael recognized him as one of Nordic descent, and took a split second to glance over his features. His slightly downturned eyes, his green eyes, his well maintained nails contrasting the several scars littering his hands, a fresh cut on the upper arm that the stranger had yet to notice, the faint pinkish dusting across his face, one surely given by a bit too much time in the sun. It was not a face he would soon forget.

Upon having seen that the man was hurt, Samael stepped out from his hiding place, trying not to startle the stranger.

“Don’t be alarmed-“

The red haired man jumped slightly, taken by surprise by the Redguard’s sudden appearance.

“By the Nine-! What the hell was that for?!”

“I did say ‘Don’t be alarmed’!”

“Well, that doesn’t exactly mean I won’t be spooked when a beast of a man pops out from behind a tree!”

“I-“ Samael sighed. “Look, you’ve got a wound and I was doing the courtesy of letting you know.”

“Oh, don’t be dramatic,” the man huffed. “It’s just a little scrape.”

Samael rolled his eyes and shook his head with a quick sigh. The two men stared at each other for quite some time, the silence deafening, and frankly, quite awkward. Samael was the first to break it, extending his hand to the stranger before him.

“Samael. I… I live around here.”

After a slightly judgmental look around the empty woods, the other man replied, taking Samael’s hand. The Redguard had a firm grip, yet somehow comforting in its power.

“Sure… I’m Faolán, an alchemist, healer, if you’re so inclined. Scrapes and bruises are my bread and butter. I also live around here, though not in such a… down to earth way.”

“A pleasure.”

“The pleasure is all mine, wolf…”

Chapter Text

“I’m sorry? I must have misheard you.”

Faolán rolled his eyes with a teasing laugh as he released the other’s hand to pull a small red cloth from his satchel, dabbing at the cut that Samael had pointed out previously.

“Oh, you foolish wolf, you’re not exactly subtle. The trees in this area have clearly been marked as territory, you said you lived in these woods but there aren’t any buildings around and..”

With a stifled chuckle, he paused with a knowing smile and a quiet sigh, playfully cocking his head ever so slightly. 

“To be completely honest, you reek of wet dog.”

“You sound so sure of your judgment, but you’re not nearly as afraid as most would be in your situation.”

Samael circled around Faolán, who didn’t seem bothered in the slightest yet refused to break eye contact. The Redguard inspected the man before him, committing every minute detail to memory. His stomach rumbled silently, reminding him of his purpose here, his teeth sharpening in his jaws.

“Oh, please. Be reasonable. If you were planning on hurting or eating me, you would have done so already. Instead, you pointed out my little scrape. You’re an intriguing creature,” Faolán remarked with a small laugh. “You’re different than I expected.”

“You were.. expecting something? What exactly? Brutality? Violence? To be eaten?”

“Hmm.. something of that sort.”

Samael backed away from Faolán, satisfied with his examination. He closed his eyes for a moment to draw a slow and controlled breath, forcing his jowls back into a more human structure with a muffled crack of the bone. The man had good control of his shifts, yet his hunger threatened to overpower him. The Nord continued.

“I’ve read countless books of your kind, a vast majority of which ended in tragedy- in murder and hunger and fear. I expected a ruthless killer but was met with compassion. So, either you want something from me or the tomes are wrong. Which is it?”

Samael shrugged.

“I am not particularly interested in humans as a food source. The meat is coarse and low quality, so I’ve heard. I’m more for elk, myself…There are some of my kind that do not share my preferences, and though they are few and far between, your records seem to focus on them-”

“And that’s why you’re out here? Hunting?”

Faolán took a step towards the man, quite close as his eyes darted around the figure, trying to pry as much information off of him as he could. Some scars were scattered across his skin, the tissue lighter than the rest of his dark complexion. The warm undertones of the man’s skin was not unlike the blisterwort mushrooms he often collected, yet the striking contrast of Samael’s eyes were reminiscent of the frost mirriam he would leave to dry above the fireplace of his room. As his gaze traveled, he took note of Samael’s hair, twisted in a style he did not often see from folk other than Redguards. The divisions of hair were thick and organized, locked in place, and would fade from a brown so dark it seemed black to a silvery gray at the tips of each section. Faolán was pulled from his thoughts by Samael’s response to his question.

“Mhm. My pack has been well fed, but the leftovers are not always enough to sate me.”

“If you’re the hunter, wouldn’t you get first pick?”

Samael sighed as his stomach churned again. He glanced at the surrounding woods, giving a quick scan for any animals before turning back to the nord, sitting himself down on a fallen branch near the thorned bush.

“Typically, sure. There are more hunters than just me, though, and while I went with them today, we weren’t all that lucky in our hunt. A lot of the bigger game around here has been dwindling recently, and it’s been harder to track them. The mountain goats have all but disappeared, the deer have migrated higher up into the backwoods, the wild chickens have been scattered. It’s almost worth it to fish instead. But, that’s besides the point. We follow an order when it comes to eating: elders, children, and then the hunters, in the order of success. I happened to come last in the lineup, and there wasn’t much left. It’s usually not that big of a deal; I’d catch a rabbit or something, but finding anything would be a stroke of luck.”

“The animals are disappearing? Hmm..”

Faolán, finally tucking the small cloth back into his satchel, pulled out a small bundle of fabric from an interior pocket, unfolding the several layers to reveal a cut of grilled elk, which he sliced in half with a paring knife he unsheathed from its scabbard on his belt. Sitting beside Samael, Faolán offered him half.

“I don’t know if they’ve run away so much as they have been… relocated. I’m sure you don’t get into town much, but there’s been quite a lot going on. I recently moved into the area, my whole family has and the village has been quite welcoming to us. As my parents and siblings began building their little tower, the ealdorman and his helpers brought us quite a few animals.. Some chickens, pigs, goats, some deer carcasses. I’m not a hunter, I don’t know much about everything, but I don’t think it would have been enough to deplete the forest all that much?”

Samael accepted the offering of meat, his teeth ripping through the steak shortly after. The flavor filled his senses, the tender flesh practically melting in his mouth. Elk. Delicious. He took a moment to think as he swallowed, then responded to the man beside him.

“Your whole family is going to live in one building? How many of you are there? Must be quite a few if your welcome gift was so substantial.” 

“Well, we’re also building a shrine, but that’ll come after the living quarters. There’s quite a few of us, my family is quite large. My mother and father, grandparents, my ten siblings…”

Samael cut him off, nearly choking on his bite.

“Ten?? And you’re all going to sleep under one roof?? That’s… that’s at least fifteen people already! You must be the youngest sibling if there are ten of you and your grandparents are still around.”

“Seventeen, actually, both sets of grandparents, and then three more for my aunts and uncles, for a total of twenty. And… I’m actually the youngest. Not that it matters, of course, but as far as I know, we were all adopted.”

“Interesting…”

Both men took bites of their food, sitting in silence for a while, not nearly as awkward as it had been earlier. Distant hooting from owls could be heard off in the distance as they gazed through the branches at the stars above, the moons casting light into their personal clearing. A few minutes later, Samael was the first to speak.

“I’d appreciate it if you wouldn’t tell your family about the werewolf pack in the forest behind their new home. You’re good company, and… I’d hate to scare them away.”

His voice was low and quiet, his gaze still cast up at Masser and Secunda, the odd firefly occasionally floating by.

“Trust me, I don’t want them to know I spoke to a werewolf. They wouldn’t take too kindly to the idea.”

Samael turned to his new friend briefly, catching a glimpse of the man staring up at the sky, a gentle smile across his lips. Faolán looked over his shoulder at the redguard, his expression lifting at the corners as their eyes met. Samael couldn’t help but return the gesture, quickly turning back to his last bite of meat and popping it in his mouth, his cheeks turning ever so slightly pink.

Chapter Text

“Stay the night, Faolán.”

“Huh-? Stay the night?”

Samael turned to look at Faolán, his gaze hovering on the man’s hair, the silken orange flowing to the dirt behind the log on which they both sat.

“Yes, stay the night. That’s what I said. Tell your family you’re collecting night-blooming herbs, I know where some are.”

Faolán’s head turned as if on a sharp swivel, his eyes wide with confusion.

“Well, yes, I heard what you said, wolf, but.. why? I should go home, shouldn’t I? My family will be waiting, and the night is getting late, I don’t think-“

Samael cut him off quickly, his hand snapping from his lap to Faolán’s own hand, resting between them on the log. 

“Faolán. Stay the night. It’s late, the woods are dangerous, and you said yourself that the tower isn’t built yet. Stay.”

The nord took a moment before realizing that Samael was touching him. It was unexpected, and yet, he could not say it was unwanted. The hand atop his own was not one that came from a life of comfort, but of an upbringing of hard work and sacrifice. A hand so coarse and callused, yet the man it belonged to was thoughtful and gentle. It was evident to Faolán that Samael didn’t have time to think before his hand had flown to cover his own, and yet the urgency of the motion did not betray its intent: the portrayal of the redguard’s concern and a display of protection. 

“Samael…”

The redguard’s hand gently closed to encompass the smaller one beneath it as Samael’s eyes shifted to lock with Faolán’s, the flush on his cheeks growing ever more bright.

“Stay,” Samael whispered, his words accompanied only by the soft chirping of crickets and glow of torch bugs. “Please.”

The poor nord could do naught but smile, lifting both his hand and Samael’s atop it to rest on his own thigh, scooting closer to his new friend, not an inch between them.

“I suppose you can be well mannered, can’t you?” Faolán laughed quietly, leaning his head to let his temples lie on the werewolf’s shoulder, his smile refusing to fade.

“Faolán-“

It was the other’s turn to interject.

“Samael, I need to tell you something, before I stay the night. It’s important. I…” he paused, trying to gather the courage to speak. “My father would not take kindly to me having spent the night with a werewolf.”

The other man waited, knowing there was more to come, allowing the silence to persist as long as the man before him needed. He had somehow become important to him in such a short time, and Samael would be damned if he ruined it so soon.

“And while he wouldn’t like to know I spent the night with a pack of werewolves, he may be less fond to know that the reason I stayed was because a man had asked me to. He would… be more understanding if it were a woman.”

“What do you mean by that? ‘The reason you stayed’? It truly is dangerous here at night, and I do truly have night-blooming flora that you might be interested in.”

“And I believe you, I do. And I am interested. But that’s not why I’m agreeing.”

He looked to their hands on his thigh, turning them over to weave his fingers into Samael’s, his thumb stroking the other’s wrist.

“I hope I’m not being too forward, or that I’m judging things wrong, and if I am or if I have, please, tell me. I’ll drop it, I’ll back away.”

The two men looked at their hands in silence for a moment before the wolf responded, a light squeeze on Faolán’s hand and turning his body to face him entirely. As they stayed in that position for a while, Faolán felt the desire to take back what he had said, the deafening quiet allowing the fear of rejection to seep into his mind and begin to devour him whole.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have-“

“Shut up, Faolán.”

Samael leaned forward, his other hand running carefully through the nord’s hair, pushing a stray section back behind his ear before falling down to his cheek, holding the man’s face gently in his rough palm.

“I’m not upset with you. Not in the slightest. In fact I… may have had a similar reason for inviting you to stay, aside from the main ones. There’s something about you, something I can’t pinpoint, something in my blood and my bones telling me not to let you slip away from my grasp, something that tells me that me finding you was no coincidence.”

“Then that makes two of us, wolf.”

“There is more to you than meets the eye. That much I know…”

Samael brushed Faolán’s soft and supple cheek with his thumb, gently turning his face to better see him. His eyes were entrancing. He’d noticed them before, of course, and yet as they sat here together, they seemed to shine brighter than they had earlier in the night. Small flecks of an amber hue were littered towards the center of the iris, and streaks of blue highlighted the edges. The Redguard quickly found himself staring, his fingers now weaving themselves into Faolán’s copper locks, unable to pull himself away until the nord’s own hand rested upon Samael’s shoulder.

“Samael?”

“I apologize, I did not mean to,” the man responded quickly, his voice betraying his calm expression with a hint of panic. He pulled his hand away from Faolán’s cheek.

Faolán gave a slight laugh behind a gentle grin, moving his hand from Samael’s shoulder to take the Redguard’s hand and place it back on his own cheek.

“It’s quite alright, you’ve done nothing wrong. I just wanted to make sure you’re okay. You… seemed out of it. You are okay… right?”

“Yes, I’m fine. I just,” he paused, trying to figure out how to word how he was feeling without alarming the nord, his cheeks deepening in hue as he did so. “I just like your eyes is all.”

“And I yours, wolf.”

As Samael snapped out of the trance he had fallen under whilst looking into Faolán’s eyes, he gave a sigh, and squeezed the man’s hand ever so slightly, yet did not let go as he stood to help the nord up.

“Come, let us find you those Moon Lilies, shall we?”