Fondest Dreams Ch. 01

The she-wolf stood up straighter and began wagging her tail.

"Speaking... Hungarian... you?" Wilhelm asked, frantically dredging up the tiny bits of the language that he knew.

The black-furred beauty chuffed loudly and let her tongue hang out in what was clearly a grin. Her blue eyes sparkled with amusement.

"Speaking bad me, yes," the human acknowledged with a self-deprecating smile.

Shaking her head slightly, the little angel pulled away from him and moved a few paces away through the ice-crusted snow. Then she paused, her body poised to run, and looked back at him over her shoulder.

Wilhelm stood and brushed the snow off his trousers. "I running with you?" he asked, using a few simple gestures to be sure his question got across.

His new friend gave him another lupine smile, cocking her head in a way that indicated a challenge even to human eyes. The message was clear: dare to race me?

Answering the challenge with a charming smile of his own, Wilhelm strode up next to the little Were and also poised himself to run. "You firstly," he told her with a gallant bow.

She gave another little snort and took off like an arrow, speeding across the open field.

Wilhelm was right behind her, the well-exercised muscles of his real body serving him well in the dream world. His opponent could have easily made herself faster—this was her dream, after all—but he could tell that she was not. Likely she did not even know she could, and truthfully he doubted that a Werewolf would choose to do so in any case. Likewise, honor would not permit him to cheat if she did not. This limited them both to their bodies' real-life capabilities.

Thankfully for the human, there was one important exception: fatigue has no hold in dreams. In the waking world, he would not have been able to match his lady friend for more than five or perhaps ten minutes before collapsing. Here, they could literally run forever and never feel tired. And, as it happened, his long legs and a lifetime of physical conditioning made him a match for a small female Werewolf.

His angel seemed surprised when he matched her pace, then let out a bark of delight and veered into the thick of the woods. Wilhelm skidded on the ice for a moment and then was back on her heels. Though his physical prowess was considerable—absolutely necessary for the von Helsing 'family business'—Wilhelm had always seen it as a chore, a distraction from the pursuits of the mind and of the tongue, which were his forte. Here, with his new friend and free of the pain of fatigue, he understood the pure joy of physicality for the first time in his life. He laughed aloud as he reveled in it, and the little she-wolf howled in reply. She continued to challenge him, though, darting through ever-denser thickets and snowdrifts, forcing him to go around or to gracelessly bludgeon his way through.

After a few repetitions, Wilhelm decided to change the game. He ran nearly straight at a large tree, actually running up it for a moment before kicking off to the side. His momentum carried him through the air to land on the bare lower limb of another nearby tree. Herr von Helsing took full advantage of his new perspective, leaping through the branches above his friend's head. She was easy to spot by the way her movement rippled the undergrowth around her. The free-running skills that had served Wilhelm well in a dozen real-world cities allowed him to keep pace with the little angel easily in the dense forest.

Apparently thinking she'd lost him, the she-wolf turned back towards the meadow in a wide arc. Just as she burst from the tree line, Wilhelm leapt from the end of a branch above her head, landing into a roll. He came back to his feet without ever breaking stride, sprinting ahead of his new friend towards the trampled area in the snow where they had begun—the apparent finish line.

No sooner had he begun to slow than a furry body slammed into the back of his legs, bowling him to the ground. Wilhelm landed on his back, and immediately found his face under assault by a long, wet tongue. "<Ach! Hey!>"

A few moments later, the licking stopped and the little black wolf retreated a bit, gazing wide-eyed at him once again. It was difficult to be sure from her suddenly-complicated feelings—how could women possibly feel so many emotions at once?—but Wilhelm was fairly certain that she was surprised at her own behavior. He smiled and scooted forward a bit so he could pat her on the head, to show her that he didn't mind.

What have I done? Father would be furious with me for befriending a human, even in a dream. But I like him. I have no reason to fear him. Surely there can be nothing wrong with spending time in my dream with my only friend? I have never been touched by a human; it feels good when he strokes my fur. What would it feel like if I was awake?

For a bit, Zsálya just sat there, apparently enjoying his touch. Gentle pats soon turned into stroking of her thick, sensual fur, whereupon she moved forward and curled up daintily in Wilhelm's lap. However dainty her movements, though, even a small wolf is rather heavy, leaving the human effectively pinned under her warm, furry body.

"<Hey, some of us enjoy feeling our legs,>" Wilhelm remarked before remembering that this young lady didn't speak a word of German. With a quiet sigh, he resigned himself and resumed petting her by way of compensation. Many of the Werewolves he had met considered it demeaning to be petted, but this one didn't seem to mind. "Frauen," he murmured to himself.

~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~

Time slipped by and by. After a bit Wilhelm managed to persuade his new friend to move off his lap, whereupon he simply stretched out and lay back in the thick snow, gazing up at the wispy clouds that drifted across the bright blue sky. The she-wolf stretched out beside him, her flank pressed against his and her nose resting on his shoulder. They each felt that it was simple bliss to lie there, together.

Though one cannot fall asleep within a dream, they both hovered close to dozing as they let the moments pass them by. Eventually, though, the sun began to dip lower and the sky to darken. The she-wolf didn't seem to notice, but Wilhelm knew that it heralded the end of the dream. Wherever this beautiful young Werewolf lived, it was nearly time to wake up.

"You... up, soon," he told her; he had no idea what the Hungarian word for 'awaken' might be. When she cocked her head in the way that meant she didn't understand, Wilhelm pointed to her, then pantomimed waking up and rubbing the sleep from his eyes. Then he pointed to the sinking sun.

The little angel looked at him for a moment, then to the sun. He knew that she understood when her ears drooped sadly.

On impulse, Wilhelm leaned over and kissed her on the forehead, just above and between her bright blue eyes. "I coming back," he promised as best he could in his broken Hungarian. <With a bloody better command of your language too,> he vowed to himself. <I am sure Senzir can teach me whatever a lexicon cannot.>

She nuzzled his cheek in reply.

With that in mind, he concentrated very hard on his new friend, memorizing the feel and sense of her self as completely as he could. With that as a guide, Wilhelm von Helsing was confident in his ability to find this young lady again tomorrow night.

He kissed her on the forehead once more, then reluctantly woke up.

Zsálya watched sadly as her new friend vanished. Would he be back? She hoped so.

~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~

Zsálya's blue eyes fluttered open and she looked around her familiar room, the one she shared with her sister, Orsolya. She looked at the bed next to her, her flame-haired twin fast asleep, a smile on her beautiful face. She was probably dreaming of her mate, who would be with her soon.

She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. Now that she was awake the visions were back. She saw it all. She wished she could forget. But during her dreams she did forget. She wished she could stay asleep forever, especially now that she had a friend.

~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~

December 31, 1857

Wilhelm spent much of the following day reading a Hungarian lexicon from cover to cover. He was now very confident in his grammar and vocabulary, but still slightly worried about pronunciation. For some reason, he found that he rather wanted to impress the little she-wolf. Well, he wanted to speak to her without making a fool of himself, at least.

His brothers had thought it odd when he chose to retire early instead of celebrating the new year with them. Wilhelm smiled at the thought. Their revels would not suffer from his absence; he had never been one for drinking and loud singing. He preferred peace, a good book, and a few puffs on his pipe.

He fell asleep swiftly, and found that it was quite simple to find his way to the specific dream he wanted. As he strode through the beautiful, snow-hushed forest, Wilhelm took great pleasure in simply breathing the crisp, clean air. As much as he loved his own home, the air inside much of the castle was always slightly stale, and the air outside carried the salty tang of the surrounding ocean.

Though he hadn't really thought about it, Wilhelm had dressed to impress upon entering the little Werewolf's dream. His tunic was of forest-green velvet, trimmed with a bit of lace at the collar and cuffs, and topped off by a deep blue cape fastened at his throat by a silver chain. He looked like a nobleman out for a hunt—which was the truth, after a fashion. The deep colors would look good without startling his new friend, or so he hoped. The fact that it was a slightly ridiculous outfit to wear for a walk in the woods did not occur to him. This was a dream, after all.

Wilhelm made his way through the woods more quickly than the last time, eager to see his new friend. He found her in the meadow, her lustrous black coat sugared with snow. He called a greeting as his boots crunched through the thin layer of ice.

Zsálya turned at once, and even from across the field the little wolf's joy was obvious: her blue eyes lit up, and her tail began wagging excitedly as she ran to meet him. She had hoped he would appear in her dreams again, but had worried that she would never see him again. What was it about this human that intrigued her so? She stopped and waited patiently for him to speak again, her wagging tail sending snow flying to either side of her.

"I told you I would return," Wilhelm told her with a grin, leaning down to give her a 'hello' pat. Zsálya accepted it with good grace, her tongue hanging out in a lupine grin as she gazed up at him. With initial greetings made, Wilhelm suddenly found himself at a loss—<Now what?> he mused. He fell back on the manners that had been impressed upon him as a child. "Again, my name is Wilhelm von Helsing. My friends call me Willi. Might I ask that you—"

A low, menacing growl cut him off in mid-sentence.

Wilhelm stared at the approaching matte-black wolf in momentary disbelief. "Did I not kill that... thing last night?" he asked the little she-wolf, who nodded. "Hmm. A recurring nightmare?" Zsálya nodded again. "I see. Excuse me for a moment."

Wilhelm stepped around Zsálya to confront the intruder Werewolf, shedding his leather dress gloves as he did. Zsálya stood and watched, fascinated, as her new friend produced a pair of small knives from his left sleeve with a sort of snapping motion of his wrist. She would have thought them silver, except that they caught the light in an unusual way. Just like the sword he had used yesterday, they were made of a strange, enchanted metal. Holding them by their points, the human simply watched the matte-black Werewolf stalk closer.

Suddenly, with a powerful flick of his wrist, both knives sang through the air. Each buried itself in one of the attacker's eyes. His body gave a horrible little spasm, then dropped like a puppet with cut strings. A moment later both the corpse and the knives vanished as Wilhelm thought them away.

Zsálya was once again amazed at his skill and ability to kill the demon of her dreams. She had never been able to do so herself. She had not been able to do anything other than escape. But it seemed, lately, that in each dream the demon Werewolf had come just a little closer to her. Now, for the second night in a row, she would sleep soundly, no night terrors to awaken her screaming from her sleep. It was as if she had dreamt her own hero to save her.

Willi nodded in satisfaction as he turned back to his lady friend. "There, that is out of the way. I suppose I shall have to deal with it each night, ja? Interesting. Now then, I was about to ask that you please shift into your human form, My Lady. I find one-sided conversations awkward. And lest I seem a lecher," he added with a wry smile, "I should explain that the fabric of a dream is beholden to the mental projections of those within it, not to any objective physical reality as we understand the concept. As such, you can clothe yourself instantly."

The little black wolf looked up at him blankly and cocked her head. Not only did she not understand what he meant, but she was astonished that he had mastered her language so completely in only one day.

"I am sorry. Let me rephrase. This," Wilhelm made an expansive gesture encompassing the meadow and all its surroundings, "is a world of thoughts. That means that you have only to think about what you want to wear, and clothes will appear on you. So, if you are willing, I shall turn my back and allow you to shift and dress. Just let me know when you are decent. Alright?"

Zsálya looked at him for a long moment, then nodded.

Wilhelm promptly turned and walked away a few paces, hands clasped behind his back.

She swiftly shifted to her human form, the change coming just as naturally as in real life. Zsálya nearly panicked at being naked in front of this male—a human male, no less!—but he just stood like a statue with his back to her. Recalling what he had said, she imagined herself wearing the blue dress her grandmother had made for her. It matched her eyes perfectly and made her skin look like it was glowing in contrast. And quick as you please, that's what she was wearing. Zsálya cleared her throat, summoning up the courage to speak. "You may turn around now, Sir."

The deep blue cape swirled around Wilhelm as he turned to face her. He seemed about to speak, but whatever he was going to say died on his tongue. His eyes went wide and his mouth hung open, the very picture of shock. The expression was rather comical on someone who seemed so serious and self-possessed.

"<Wind to the south, and a comely nightingale flies to the sage for succor...>" Wilhelm whispered, still staring at her.

"What?" Zsálya cocked her head in confusion, in precisely the same way as her wolf had done just a moment ago.

He started and blinked several times, coming back to himself. "My apologies. I was just recalling something my younger brother wrote many years ago." Wilhelm straightened his back and gave Zsálya a courtly bow. "Might I ask your name, Fraulein?"

"My name is Zsálya. Zsálya Kardos. Who... who are you... Helsing?" So many questions were combined in those few little words: How are you in my dreams? Where are you from? How are you so good at fighting Werewolves? Can I trust you?

"'Von Helsing,' Fraulein Kardos," he corrected with a gentle smile. "Remind me sometime and I will explain. Let us get the most pertinent items out of the way first. I am a real, live person, not something you imagined. I am a dreamwalker, one who has the ability to travel into the dreams of others. It is an inborn talent, not a learned skill, and therefore is quite rare. Do you understand me so far?"

Zsálya nodded slowly. "I believe so. So you are not actually here in Hungary?"

"Ah, that answers my next question. Those are the Carpathian Mountains, then?" Wilhelm nodded towards the snow-capped peaks to the northeast, far beyond the forest. "No, I am merely in your dream. I live on a small island called Thule in the middle of the North Sea. That is where my body is in the waking world."

"I... do not think I know where that is. What is an... island?"

Wilhelm blinked twice. "An island is a mass of dry land in the middle of a body of water," he replied. Seeing that she didn't understand, he stroked his chin. "No matter, for the moment. It is not surprising that you do not know about Thule. Our existence and general location are something of an open secret, but you can only find the island if you know exactly where to look."

Again, Zsálya cocked her head and gave him a quizzical look. "How would I know how?"

"Magic." Somehow, Wilhelm's matter-of-factness made the idea seem even stranger.

"There is no such thing as magic," Zsálya protested.

"Like Werewolves?" he countered lightly, giving her a charming smile. "Most humans think you are a myth, you know."

"Why? We do not believe they are a myth. Why would they think of us as such?" She leaned towards him and dropped her voice, as if she were worried someone would hear her. "Can you use magic, von Helsing??"

"Please, mein kleinerwolf, call me Willi. Or Wilhelm, at least. And yes, I can use magic. Arcane talent runs in my family. It is one of the reasons we are who we are. We are the royal family of Thule," he explained without prompting. "But more than that, we are among the leaders of a group which strives to keep the peace between humans on the one hand and parahumans and extraplanars on the other. We also prevent the abuse of magic by its practitioners."

She frowned as she struggled to understand what he was saying. But she could not. "What does that mean?"

"Parahumans are beings like Weres, vampires, dwarves, elves, et cetera. Extraplanars are angels, demons, and elementals. These are words used by people who work with many different beings, or study them. An average being has no cause to know or use these words. Put simply, my family and the people we work with protect humans from beings like you. And vice versa, of course."

"My family would never harm a human! At least, not if they left us alone. My brothers do watch them sometimes. They have told me stories about them." She stopped speaking for a moment and sat down on a nearby log. For some reason, she felt the need to look up at his smiling face. She enjoyed seeing him from this vantage point. It was the same view as when she watched him in her wolf form.

"I did not mean to imply such a thing," Wilhelm replied. "In our work with Weres it is most often our task to shield you from the ignorance or foolishness of humans. It is quite rare that a group of Weres makes trouble for others. Now vampires, by contrast... a never-ending headache." He shook his head and sighed.

"I still do not understand. Why would you need to protect us from humans? What reason have they to harm us?"

Wilhelm shrugged. "Humans usually see anything that is not usual to them as dangerous, or else deny its existence. It is a sensible attitude, up to a point, but humans generally take it too far."

Zsálya considered that. "So... they believe Werewolves are a myth because we are not usual to them... and if we do exist, we must be dangerous?"

"Precisely. You have a swift mind, mein kleinerwolf."

"Excuse me, but what do those words mean?"

"The phrase means 'my little wolf.'" Wilhelm smiled.

Zsálya blushed and smiled back.

"There are only about twelve thousand Weres in all of Europe," the human continued. "By contrast, there are two thousand humans living on Thule, which is not much larger than a typical pack's territory. The human nation of Hungary, within which your pack's lands lie, is home to..." Wilhelm's brow furrowed and he looked skyward for a moment, "over eleven million humans. Add to that the fact that Weres generally keep to themselves..." he shrugged again.