CHAPTER TWELVE: RED HOOD
Your American fairytales end that way. Real fairytales end in blood or tears.
-Luna Lindsey
Once upon a time, an inn called Lady Marian had a group of unusual characters staying within it's walls -none of it's other patrons knowing just how important they are.
That same group is starting notice when Magician needs to focus, the warlock sings to themself, "Down on the banks of hanky panky where the bullfrogs jump from bank to banky, they say eeps opps oobs oops, eastside westside ping pong!" to himself for seemingly no reason at all.
Each time though, it does work and they hyper focuses and their magic is fluent and flawless and lethal.
But they repeat themself.
Over and over and over again.
Sometimes in voices other than their own, sometimes in accents.
Yet Ezra always, always says the exact same 26 words to themself. Always with the same inhales and tone and tune.
If it didn't work so well, they probably would have all murdered the mad Magician long ago.
The Ghosts are forced to come to terms with the kingdom finally recognizing them as vigilantes accused of treason to the crown.
Something that makes the bard squeal out "That's awesome!" loudly.
In the middle of the local tavern.
Where a group of the Queen's soldiers are.
Next to a group of loyal locals who happen to be loud white men.
"Excuse me," A drunk one calls out, hand banging down harshly on the fairy's table. "What part about people committing treason against our queen excites you?"
"Uh, all of it, um," Standing awkwardly, the bard plucks her lute from the air. "Because it just, uh, dude it just totally inspires me so much. See?"
Stepping into the air, she starts to drift around, doing a half-assed jig as she plays the lute.
"Did you hear the whispers when the new queen rose?" Charm awkwardly sings. "With a wicked sweet smile and a gorgeous pose."
Gag, she thinks.
"They say her name rings true yet no one knows what it is, she has a crown too! Long live the queen, the wicked lil' queen, who smites the hags and dances over mags, oh long live the queen-"
Another man throws a beer glass near her head, "Shut 'yer mouth!"
"Terrible singer!" Another says.
A third passes out face down in beer, risking the potential to drown, and none of the men around him catch it.
Wolf and Charm do, share a glance as she flits back down to their table, and collectively decide to ignore it.
What happens, happens.
"That was a close one." The fairy squeaks out. "But listen, the risk I just took by singing that obviously terribly inspired song was calculated but you guys are the ones who are supposed to point out how bad I am at math."
Locks, red in the face and golden wings ruffled up to show her anger, snarls out, "Don't you dare turn this around on us! We could have been killed you insufferable b-"
"Is this a bad time to point out we're still in the bar?" Archer hisses. "With the guards?"
The magician scrunches up their nose, "I thought you were going to point out that Charm doesn't actually know how to do math at all."
Locks whacks them on the back of their head, making the warlock yelp.
"Everyone just ignore it and meet me outside, don't come as a group. Wolf, leave last." Taking the bard by the arm, the leader tugs her out the door.
After this, everything seems to go smoothly until the Ghosts notice the same group of men dressed in the Wicked Queen's colors- -a sign of loyalty, meaning they're guards- -trailing closer and closer to the right side of the group -where Locks, Charm and Little Red happen to be.
Split off, Little Red instructs. They'll probably follow me. Then we'll ditch them and round back to the inn.
This will be fun, Wolf says.
After Locks successfully leads the group to Lady Marian after Snow knocks out the remaining guard that was following them Archer and Huntsmen, who act as brothers, check into the inn.
Everything is as normal.
They all sneak into the window and set up for the night expecting the two fighters back any moment ready to get some rest as they were all still a bit sore from fighting the Cecaelia.
But then silently, the warrior and mercenary enter the inn through the window -Wolf stained with blood in various places and Little Red scarily stoic.
The Ghosts stay silent, looking between them until they slowly realize they're okay. The warrior just has a new scar under one eyes as though he was scratched. That and the mercenary was mad, which was almost scarier than someone like the werewolf ripping several soldiers apart.
"What happened to your face?" Huntsman dares to ask the wolf, who grins with his sharp canines stained red.
Suddenly, still not used to gore, the bard realizes she could throw up.
"Someone decided to fight back when I ripped them apart, can you believe that." Dimitri then looks to the huntsman's face that went completely unharmed when running away. "What happened to yours?"
"I hate you."
"What actually happened?" The leader asks, voice sharp.
As if slaughtering others is casual, in a voice that had his Russian accent rolling so thick it was hard not to hang onto ever word, Wolf answered simply. "I did what I needed to."
The mercenary scoffs, hands clenched into fists against her red hood.
Not hesitating, the wolf growls at her. "What?"
"You just fucking -you killed five soldiers just because they followed us!" Little Red roars, her magic crackling in the air in sync with her voice.
Half of her team holds their breath, the other half flinch.
Meanwhile Magician purses their lips and raises a tea cup to their mouth, taking a small sip.
Dimitri, who's canines are still lengthened lethally with a snarl, doesn't flinch. "I can hear their heartbeats, their breath." The wolf growls out. "I could tell exactly what they were planning to do to you -and Charm before we split, for that matter. Blyad! I will happily tear into any men with those plans, consequences of your anger aside. I'm a killer, my dear, a bloodthirsty one at that. It's about time you get used to that, because the next time I want to kill someone. I'm not stopping myself."
"You're putting us all at risk," The mercenary hisses. "Don't you fucking care about that?"
Wolf shakes his head, "Not if it saves you."
Storming out of the inn through the door, a risk in itself, Little Red doesn't even get into the nearby woods before she's aware of the warrior chasing after her.
"Red, come on!"
"Don't talk to me."
"Little One-"
"I said don't talk to me!" Little Red turns on her heels, glaring at the wolf. "You risked the mission so I wouldn't get hurt! You risked the mission, so my blood wouldn't spill. I wouldn't have died! I told you what would happen. I should...I should-"
She couldn't even get the words out.
"What? Kill me?" Dimitri steps closer to her, leaning his massive frame over her small one. "I'd like to see you try. You care about me, as a wolf I can tell every reaction your body has to mine. Don't even pretend to hide it."
"Oh, bite me!"
In a split second, the wolf has Blythe pinned back against the wall by the throat much like when they first met.
This time, however, he's not nearly as rough.
"If you're not careful," He snarls, Russian accent thick and rolling. "Then I just might. Again. It's your last warning, moy malenkiy. Wolves aren't patient about claiming what is ours, eventually I will make you mine and if you don't watch that mouth of yours it will be a lot sooner than you'd like."
His hand tightens.
I can make your knees tremble by doing things to you that you've never even imagined, if I were you I wouldn't want to test that fact. He growls, leaning down until his canines scrape against her neck. You're too enticing for your own good, pissing me off doesn't change that.
The mercenary nods, red eyes stuck onto Dimitri's frame.
"Has it ever occurred to you, in that wolfish mind of yours, that killing people isn't always the best solution to your problems with them?" Little Red, now forcibly calmer, asks.
"Of course it did, that's why I haven't killed Huntsman yet though he has tempted me." He nudges her chin up, hand still dangerously close to her throat but now Wolf has an amused smirk instead of a snarl. "But when it comes to all those useless assholes I ripped up, every time I play the scenario in my head I'm the one getting killed. So...if I'm being honest with you, which I am, mostly, I prefer to live. So yeah, ripping people in half is the way to go. I gotta kill them, you know."
Little Red just sighs, because she doesn't know.
But she's Little Red Riding Hood and he's the Big Bad Wolf.
Neither one of them had to make complete sense to each other for them to be together, as them together was always going to happen.
All they had to learn how to do was accept their differences, and occasional man-slaughter, and they'd be fine.
Nobody makes a sing noise, save for Charm and her lute, when the mercenary enters through the door again -having made Wolf climb in through the window.
The warrior shifts into his wolf, laying in front of the door, growling in thanks when Magician tosses him a pillow.
Little red sighs, tightening her hood, grabbing a golden dagger to hold as she climbs onto Wolf's back. She curls up around his shoulders, one arm hanging over his head where she normally and inevitably grabs one of his ears in her sleep.
Dim? The mercenary says through their mental link. I'm sorry for getting so mad earlier, just please, never do that again.
Little One... As he replied to her, she could feel his sigh. I would risk everything for you. That's part of being partners. Tell me, in the heat of battle do you notice a difference between your daggers and my claws, between your sword and my fangs when we're fighting a solider?
She sends him her doubt.
He continues. Without me, there's no you and without you, there's no me. We're one.
The half-witch can't reply to that, she can't deny it.
And she doesn't want to.