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THIS IS CHAPTER 2 of What Went on Before! READ "Birth of a Dire" FIRST!

Again, apologies for the shortness of this chapter. This is actually quite a lot later than the last, 16 years have gone by! Enjoy!

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Rukbat pounded the steel as best as her pubescent arms could, cursing the day she had ever heard of steel. "Damned thing." She said as sparks flew from the metal. "Always falling. . . apart!" She dipped the sword, and looked to the door of the forge, where her grandfather was doing business. Though much had changed in the years since her cubhood, especially the death of her grandmother, he stayed the same. Gray refused to grow in his muzzle, and age refused to set into his bones. "Why does he even bother. . ." Rukbat growled to the steel as she hung it. "Training me for when he's gone. . . He'll never be gone. . ." She suddenly yelped as she felt a huge paw come in contact with her skull, and a chuckle behind her.

"You think you can fool these old ears by speaking low?" Her grandfather stood a good two foot over her, his muzzle shaped into a playful growl. "I thought you knew better." Ruk chuckled embarrassedly, and smiled up to her grandfather.

"It's true, nonno." Ah, that title that disarmed him. . . calling him grandfather in Italian always did help her case. She had her grandmother's tongue in Italian. "You'll outlive us all." She scratched behind her head. "I still have chores to do, why did you stop me?" The larger and elder lupine gestured to the door, and stated simply.

"Royal decree." He was drowned out, however, by the happy yipping of his granddaughter and the crown prince of the realm.

"YOU'RE BACK! YOU'RE BACK!" She cried, her arms wrapped around Donato, and there was a high-pitched howl of joy as Rukbat was spun around.

"Of course I'm back! I couldn't leave you all alone here any longer. . . slaving away in a hot forge!" The prince knew well how to cheer his friend up. For as long as all could remember, the two were inseparable. Where Rukbat went, Donato was not at all far behind, or vice versa. They were the best of friends, and now . . . so the gossips said, the bond was growing deeper. Giovan looked to the two of them, and watched carefully. Yes. . . there were the signs. The closeness of their bodies was a hint at the wall neither dared breach just yet, but stood at the base with rope at the ready. Donato's soft stroking of Ruk's cheek as she hugged him, the way her fingers were entangling themselves in the wolf's snowy hair. They were falling in love. They just didn't know it yet. At sixteen, Rukbat was already nearly six foot tall, and her body had begun to blossom, though it would reach it's true beauty as her grandmother's did. . . she would shine the most when she was thirty or so. She was a classic beauty, and every lad but Donato failed to see the promise she held.

All, that is. . . save Dante. The ebony wolf stood near the window of his father's carpentry shop and growled. "So. . . the prince has returned from the wars, has he?" The lupine snarled, and evened up the joint he had been setting. His father's injury had required him to grow up a bit faster than he liked. A carpenter could not work with an injured foot, and so Dante had taken up the square and lathe of his father. The shop was empty, and he continued on his rant. "Pretty big sister doesn't see what he's doing. . . Ruk is all too eager to be the prince's kept mistress when he marries another for riches or peace. . ." The wolf set the joint, and clamped it so the glue would dry. "She doesn't care. . . and she doesn't see. . . idiot bitch of a freak." Unlike his sister, Dante had little dire blood, or it did not show. He was slight, nearly 6 inches her junior, but his 18-month age difference to the younger excused this. He watched, his eyes burning a bitter amber. A spark entered the dry confines of his mind, and as he watched the two of them, the snowy wolf and his earthy-fired wolfess of a sister, gallavant off, the spark was fanned into a blaze. . . and a plan formed in his head. "Yes. She is an idiot. I'll use that. . . to make sure he never uses her."

The two young wolves ran out from the city proper to the woods surrounding Fidospiritu, their laughter falling on the wind and being carried to the windows above them. The housewives and cubs at the gates and market stood aside, letting the prince and the pauper run past them. The two youngsters finally reached the outskirts of the city, and the peace of the woods. "Dona! Dona!" Rukbat gasped, clinging for dear life to her friend's paw. "Slow down!" her snowy companion laughed, and picked her up, flinging her over his shoulder.

"Not today, Ruk! Today is special!" He laughed, his paws fleet through the green light of the forest. They reached a large oak, and he set his companion down gently. "Sweet Ruk!" He chuckled, "Do you think I would run you ragged for no reason?" The wolfess glared at him playfully, landing a punch on the dire's bicep.

"You've done it before." Rukbat couldn't maintain her straight face, and laughed as the young dire wolf fell to the ground, his sword clattering.

"I come back from the wars only to be struck down by my love!" He smirked up at her. "Ya got me!" His look fell as Rukbat failed to come back with a quip. "What's wrong?"

"You called me your love." The lupine femme looked nonplused.

"Well, aren't you?" Donato stood, and pulled Rukbat close to him. "I mean. . . this kid sister thing is getting old, you know?" He blushed, his white fur turning a bright pink.

"Well. . . I . . . this is your idea of asking?" She crossed her arms, and flopped down on a root of the immense tree nearby.

"I was getting to that." He smiled, and drew something from his belt, kept at the small of his back, which Rukbat hadn't noticed. It was a simple box, but from it, he drew a gold chain. He then walked over to a white rosebush that was growing a safe distance from the oak's toxins. He plucked a rose, and held it in his paw, there was a soft shimmer, He fixed whatever was in his paw onto the chain, and fastened the necklace onto Rukbat's neck. "Ruk, you mean the world to me. When I was out there fighting. . . I knew suddenly what was important. . . and as I lay looking up at night . . . I knew I had to have you. Ruk . . . will you be mine? Mine in body as well as soul? My old friend. . . I want to make you my girl. My lover."

Rukbat stood up like a shot, and her paws flew to her neck, and the heavy diamond that now hung there. "Your. . . your. . ." She was stunned beyond speech. Donato had to bite back a cruel and satisfied smile. "Your lover?" She whimpered. "Donato, we are SIXTEEN!" She finally blurted out. "We can't even be married yet!"

"I know. But since when . . . have rules stopped us?" He looked at her, his kind eyes glowing gently with a blue fire that outshone even Rukbat's, and Rukbat knew that this. . . this wolf who has stood before her and by her for so many years. . . the wolf she had learned magic with. . . the wolf who had helped her to pull every prank she ever thought of. . . was here now asking her to be his lover, and someday, his mate. A princess. A queen.

Rukbat fell back into the forest floor. "We are alike, you and I. You are a female that can take what I have to give. What's more. . . you are from a good family. . . Father loves you, Mother loves you. I love you." Donato's smooth voice ran over her fur like warm oil. "Ruk, I'm not asking for now, or even a year from now. . . all I ask, sweet Ruk . . . is that you consider it." He kissed her forehead softly, gently. "Meet me by the Mother when you decide." He turned, and left without another word.

Days later, Rukbat still couldn't focus on anything. Memories flashed back to her, images floating on her mind like a lotus on a pond, tied by roots to a single point, but still able to drift as they pleased in their tiny worlds. . . She saw her grandmother as she tried desperately to defend herself against the plaguing sickness that had swept the kingdom when Rukbat was six. For days, her grandmother lay on her bed, panting, howling, moaning in agony, the bed covered in tufts of hair from her failing body's desperate attempts at dumping heat. For fourteen days and nights the fever raged, and finally won. Rukbat was forced by custom to watch as her grandmother's body burned in a mass grave, forced to stand vigil in the chilly courtyard that night, watching the torchlight dance. She wandered, up and down the aisles of graves, only to find her grandfather, curled up and whining like a cub, his hair torn out in places, and his great body seeming easily half its size.

The invasion of Fidospiritu when Rukbat was ten. . . watching as he grandfather's sword shattered against the strange armor of the enemy soldiers, finally reducing him to tearing at the stranger's throats with his own teeth and claws. She remembered the smell of blood on his warm fur. . . remembered binding not only his, but her father's wounds, trying to mend them with her limited healing powers. She blinked, and shuddered, remembering what happened next. Donato had come in, his boy's sword hanging limply at his side, his fur covered in blood, making him look red, rather than snowy white. "Ruk," He'd begged. "My father. . ." She looked to her grandfather, and to her father, who both bade her go. She'd spent most of the night working on the king, and when she returned, found that her father's groin had been injured. . . and that cubs. . . were no longer possible for him. She never forgave herself for choosing the king over her father.

She sat in her room above the carpentry shop, debating her options. There was a knock at the door. "Come in." She said, sweeping her hair out of her eyes. It was Dante. "Brother? Something troubles you?" He looked troubled. Almost as much as she did."

"The prince asked after you again. You know it's treason to lie to him." Dante did his best to look uneasy. It may have been treason for another wolf, but to Dante, lying to the prince was a joy. A stab in the unsuspecting fool's heart.

"All you must say is that I am unavailable. It's not a lie. I can't see anyone like this." She ran her hands through her hair.

"You look beautiful." He sat down on her bed, and hugged her gently. "What is it that troubles you so?"

"He asked me to be his lover." She shuddered, and soft sniffles escaped her as she clung to her sibling. "I don't know what to say. . ." Dante snickered mentally.

"Well, listen to your heart, sister. It's obvious, right?" He squeezed her, singing songs in head about victory over the enemy.

"Right." Dante's blood froze. He didn't like that new, assured tone. He didn't like it at all.

"Sister, be sure it's your heart and your head, now. Don't be foolhardy." He warned.

"Oh, yes. I know now." She squeezed the wolf holding her and extracted herself from his arms, standing. "Thank you." She left the room, and ran off to the woods. Dante fell back on his sister's bed, and looked up to the ceiling.

"DAMN IT!"

Rukbat ran through the woods, her breath heaving, her feet knowing the way. She stopped at the white marble wolfess she knew so well, and as she stopped, so did her heart. There, embracing the statue with one arm, was Donato. But not as she had at all recalled him. He was strong, sure, and so beautiful. She walked into the clearing proper, and smiled. "Dona." She whispered.

"Ruk." He answered, sweeping his hair back. He had worn it loose today, as was hers. The snowy locks fell like an argented waterfall to his shoulders and past, while Rukbat's own hair was the brown-red of a bay horse. He strode over to her, and wrapped his arms around her waist. "You've decided?" He cocked his head to one side.

"I've decided." She nodded, and wrapped her arms around his waist, leaning her head into his chest. There were no more words needed as the two of them stood there. At length, Donato pulled Rukbat's head up to his own, and his lips met hers, softly, gently, exploring the heat of her breath against his. Rukbat's body jolted, but soon, an eternity of a soon, the wolfess moved her lips against his. She felt a soft lapping at her mouth, and opened it. What she felt made her eyes pop open, and realize that she'd had them close. Donato had a large tongue. Hell, his whole body was huge. . . His body was a good three-quarters the size of her grandfather's. It didn't matter. Ruk still had some growing to do yet. . .