Liz - Customs Remembered

It was near a week before Wolf returned to King Wendell’s castle. Wendell, Queen Riding Hood, Genevieve, and a few others were enjoying breakfast when he was shown in.

Wendell rose immediately. “Wolf!” he said.

Wolf had definitely seen better days. His clothes were tattered and torn, his skin darkened with dirt, and he had quite a bit of growth on his face. His dark hair was caked with dried mud. But it was his eyes that disturbed Wendell most. His dark eyes looked strangely hollow. Empty, as if all the life had been drained out of them.

“Your Majesty,” he said, bowing slowly, tiredly. “I am ready to proclaim my birthright, and accept my betrothal,” he said, his voice hoarse, as if this was the first time he’d spoken in some time.

Riding Hood clapped her hands together in delight. “Wonderful!” she cried, jumping to her feet. “This does my heart good, Wolfie dear,” she said, smiling widely. “I would hug you, but whew - you smell!” she said laughingly. She snapped to her servants. “Pack my things,” she told them harshly. She turned to Wendell and smiled becomingly. “I simply cannot stay a moment longer; I’ve been neglecting my duties as is,” she said, offering him her hand. Wendell bowed over it and brought it to his lips. “It has been wonderful having you, Riding Hood. I do hope you will grace this castle with your presence again soon,” he said smoothly.

Riding Hood nodded, and turned to Genevieve. “Come along now,” she said and they started to exit.

“No,” Wolf said flatly and they froze mid-stride. “Genevieve stays. As my betrothed she belongs at my side,” he said in a no-nonsense tone.

Genevieve nodded. “I will stay if that is what you wish.”

“It is.” Wolf turned back to Wendell. “Forgive me your Majesty, but I find I am exhausted, and will retire to my room now.” He didn’t wait for an answer and quickly made his way out of the great hall.

Wolf closed the door and sank on to the bed tiredly. His eyes pinched in an attempt to shed tears, but honestly he could not, his tear ducts were dry. He pulled his knees up to his chest and wrapped his arm around them as a fresh wave of agony engulfed him. How could this be happening to him? Virginia was his soulmate, he felt down to the very depth of his being that she was. Yet he was set to marry someone else, and why? Because of some stupid custom ordained before he was even born.

“Grrr. Cripes!” He howled and pounded his fists against his pillow until he was completely tired out. Wolf lay there awhile, immersed in his sorrows. Somehow he was going to have to find the strength to carry on. He could still hear Virginia’s voice in his ear: I have nothing to say to you.

“Oh Virginia,” he whispered raggedly to himself. He crossed the room and knelt behind the dressing mirror. There was a hollow space in the wall. Wolf stuck his hand inside. “Come on… Still be here,” he grumbled. His fingers brushed something hard and he pulled out a small wooden box. He sat back on his bed and opened it. “Good, no one has found it since I left it here,” he breathed. There, nestled in the velvet insides of the box was a very long, very thin brown braid. He held it under his nose and sniffed in the familiar scent. It was Virginia’s hair. He traced the link of the lock in his fingers, then nuzzled the silky strands against his cheek. He closed his eyes and pictured her face. Those wide blue eyes, so honest so pure and trusting. That beautiful smile…

Wolf dug into his pocket and withdrew the singing ring. It looked up at him sadly a tiny, almost microscopic tear falling from its eye. Wolf wiped it away gently. “Don’t cry.”

“How did we go so wrong?
Now that she’s up and gone.”

“I don’t’ know… I don’t know." The ring whimpered a bit, but sang no more. Wolf slid the ring onto the braid and looped it around his neck, fashioning it into a necklace. He put it under his shirt and let the silky strands brush against his bare skin as a silent reminder of all he had lost. Suddenly Wolf was extremely tired. He lay back down and was out before his head hit the pillow.

Wolf slept for two straight days and ate like a ravaged animal for another. On the eve of the fourth day he emerged fresh and healthy-looking.

Wendell glanced across the breakfast feast at him. “How are you feeling, Wolf?”

“As well as can be expected,” he said softly. He seemed all right; he smiled, and was corrigible, he even growled happily at the sight of bacon. But his eyes… They seemed so dead, so sad. And even at his most pleasant, his smile never reached them. Wendell worried about his friend, but was too polite to disgrace him in public. They finished their meal and stood.

Wolf gestured to Genevieve. “Join me for a walk?” he asked stiffly and Genevieve smiled.

“I would be delighted.”

Wolf allowed her to link her arm through his as they walked among the flowers.

“You seem to be in better spirits,” Genevieve said softly, her perfect lips curling into an enticing smile.

“No,” Wolf said, slowly shaking his head. “I’ve just accepted my situation.”

“I see…”

Wolf stopped. “Do you really?”

Genevieve put on a show of being confused, but Wolf saw through it. “I won’t lie to you, Gen. I feel dead inside. When Virginia left she took her heart with me. You have to know that.”

Genevieve fluttered her eyelids. “I don’t believe I understand,” she said, gaily backing away from him. Wolf grabbed a hold of her arm and twisted, HARD. Genevieve winced.

“I don’t love you Gen. I never will. But I will do my duty by you, try to be a good husband and father.” Wolf tried not to think of being a father. Tried not to think of his Virginia alone and pregnant in New York.

“Where are you?” Genevieve said lightly running her finger up his arm.

“I’m right here.”

“Not in mind, where are you? You're wondering about that girl, aren’t you?”

Wolf nodded as they both sat on the branch. Genevieve took his hand. “I realize that you don’t love me. If it’s any consolation, I’m not sure that I love you.”

Wolf glared at her. Then why are you pushing this marriage?”

Genevieve looked at him coolly. “Because you are mine. You have been so since before either of us were born, as I am yours. I spent most of my life learning what I would have to do to please you. All my schooling has lead up to this moment and I am not about to let it slip from my fingers because you’ve been bewitched by some otherworld temptress.”

Wolf opened his mouth but Genevieve put a finger to it, silencing him. “I am not perfect. I’m not Virginia, but I AM going to be your wife. What else can you expect of me?” Her voice stilled to a silky purr. “I may seem like an opportunist and maybe I am. But you were promised to me.”

Wolf looked at Genevieve speculatively. She had let her hair free from its bun and it flowed over her shoulder and curled around her face adorably. Her wide gray eyes seemed fathomless, and Wolf found he was having a hard time prying his own eyes away from them. Her smooth white flawless skin bared itself becomingly, a promising coolness, and Wolf was becoming quiet warm. He cleared his throat and tried not to let his eyes travel downward… To not take in the gently sloping curves she was plainly displaying for him.

“It’s pretty warm this morning,” Genevieve said softly and Wolf realized she knew exactly what he was doing.

“That it is,” he said airily. Suddenly he felt as if he was on fire. Genevieve was not his love, his soul mate, but she WAS going to be his wife, and he would have to make the best of it. He stood and offered her his hand. “Would you like a tour of my chambers?” he asking throatily and she laughed.

“I have a better idea,” she said, leading him deeper into the garden away from prying eyes. “Why don’t we just find a camouflaging rose bush?”

Wolf emitted a low excited growl as they made their way towards the roses… “This could be interesting.”

“What’s this?” Wolf glanced at the scroll in his hand.

Wendell smiled at him. “I know you're unhappy, Wolf. You know if I could do something to fix this I would.”

Wolf nodded. “I know you would. And I am not unhappy, I feel quite comfortable with Genevieve. I just don’t love her; I’m heart sick.” Wolf’s voice took on a now familiar twang as it always did when he was thinking of Virginia, as he often was.

“I had thought as much, so I am giving you your wedding present early,” Wendell said gesturing to the scroll.

Wolf opened it and stared at the official looking document. “A deed.”

“That’s right.”

“To what?”

Wendell clamped his hand on his friend’s shoulder. “The Third Kingdom.”

Wolf’s eyes widened. “The Third Kingdom, as in… The ENTIRE Third Kingdom?”

“That’s right.”

“But how?”

Wendell led him to the huge map of the Nine Kingdoms that adorned one side of the throne room. “After the evil queen murdered the troll king, a severe power struggle between his descendents erupted. What ensued was a civil war. The troll population was nearly destroyed, along with the lands and castle. Only Bean Town survived. Of the depleted population perhaps a hundred trolls survived; mostly old women and children, and they fled deep into Dragon Mountain. You need something to take your mind off things, and you are a great leader, you have proved that time and time again. I want you to accept this gift gracefully, YOUR HIGHNESS.” He emphasized the last words and Wolf gulped.

“Me… a… king?”

Wendell grinned at his stuttering friend. “Yes my friend… A king.”

To say Genevieve was thrilled would be an understatement. She was ECSTATIC.

“I’m going to be a QUEEN?” She’d hugged Wolf tightly. “Oh I love you!” she’d cried. Her face had fallen when Wolf didn’t answer, but what could he do? His thoughts were once again on Virginia.

“Oooooohhh there you go again!”

Wolf proved to be a great leader. He found a hidden beauty in beanstalk forest and the people of Bean Town were happy helpers. Wolf started by clearing out the unneeded beanstalks; he beautified the monument to Jack. In no time at all the sour feeling of death left by the trolls had all but eroded. Wolf moved the site of the castle and set to building a beautiful home. He welcomed back the troll refugees, provided they swore their allegiance to him. Wolfs from all around flocked to the third kingdom, and made it their home. Wolf was a highly respected king; he abhorred many traditions and abolished them. He was very fair and chose his officials wisely. Within a few months the Third Kingdom had bloomed into bustling place of commerce and industry.

Wolf was not altogether unhappy. He enjoyed the restoration of the kingdom, and took the opportunity to put some of the things he had learned in New York to use. His banks were boasted as being the most efficient in all the Nine Kingdoms. He found joy in the building of his castle, employing some of the styles he had studied from Paris and Rome. He liked Genevieve's company for the most part. She was entertaining and good-humored and when talking about old times and old pranks he could easily go without thinking of Virginia for an hour or two. Inevitably though, she would return to his thoughts.

Virginia haunted his dreams every night, but he loved them. Sometimes he would plow through his day just so he could sleep, for the moment his head hit the pillow he would enter another world: One where Virginia was his wife and life was perfect. During the midnight hours he would play with his children, take them to Central Park. He would get his promotion at Bloomingdale's and make his Virginia proud.

But these were just dreams and he knew it. How he hated to wake up in the morning.

As the months slipped away and his wedding came closer and closer Wolf became more and more isolated. He sent Genevieve off to his cousin and would accept no visitors. He kept his Kingdom running smoothly but its inhabitants did much wonder about the strangled howls that would fill the night air. Wolf became pale and flaxen, his hair hanging limply around his face. Even the constant exercise and fresh air did nothing to help him, and Wendell became very worried.

The day finally arrived. Wolf stood, flocked by King Wendell’s finest tailors as they hastily made last minute nips and tucks to his wedding outfit. Wolf put on a brave front, but inside he was haggard. Every few moments a voice inside his head… VIRGINIA’S voice… would remind him that he was getting married the next day. Even Wendell could not bring about his wolfish smile.

“I will do this Wendell, not for the tradition or glory, but because Virginia will not have me. But I don’t know how long I will last.” He told Wendell about his dreams and his failing health. Wendell assured him it was just cold feet and he would be all right, but deep down he knew that Wolf was indeed not going to make it, and his personal physician confirmed that fact.

Wolf was dying of a broken heart. If only he could find Virginia…