Fog of War. Chapter Two.

Story by Roofles on SoFurry

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Fog of War

Chapter Two

By Roofles

"Wake up." Arn yawned loudly as he stirred from his sleep. He was up, so Duran needed to be as well.

"Morning, already?" Duran groggily sat up at that. Holding the side of his head. His neck felt so stiff. It had been years since he slept outside, let alone in the cold North. The air was still chilly and even fully clothed Duran shivered a bit. He held himself, looking around. Duran had woken up in the smallest of hopes that everything had been a dream. A nightmare. It wasn't; it was a whole other kind of nightmare.

Arn looked down at him, frowning a bit.

"Why did you not sleep in my bed?" Arn asked almost with a growl, looking at the shivering polecat. There were anger in those eyes, but behind them Duran could see more. Confusion. Uncertainty.

Arn was the lowest member of his pack. Looked down on by all the others. Duran's flattery had helped with the wolf's insecurities. Now they were showing again. That Duran hadn't slept in the bed... was it because he hadn't wanted too? That Arn wasn't even worth the company of a slave?

"You are so great," Duran gave a bow, trying to stifle a yawn and finding the whole thing to be rather tedious. "I did not want to spoil your rest with my... unworthy, company." Duran said making up the words as he spoke them. He had other thoughts on his mind, even knowing he needed to keep this wolf, his owner, happy.

"Oh." Arn grunted a bit, getting flustered by the praise and over the foolishness that Duran hadn't wanted to sleep with him. It was true he hadn't, but Arn didn't know that. "Well I give you permission too. Uh... in the future." Arn frowned a bit. Thinking what to do now.

Arn had woken up early after a hunt.

It would be after the hunting party returned to camp. There would be a party that'd last all night, even if the two hadn't taken a part of it. The camp would be filled with hungover wolves sleeping off last night joyous occasion. Most of which would kill to be disturbed.

His position in the pack had risen with such a worthy prize he had brought back from the raid. And now Arn wasn't sure what to do, exactly, with his prize. He couldn't put it on his wall or lay it on the ground like the skins he himself had gotten. It wasn't as if the wolf could continue to flaunt him so openly. Someone else might take interest.

"Slave," Arn ordered looking at Duran. Duran just looked back at him. One of the wolf's ears twitched. "Pet?" Arn offered, uncertain. The polecat couldn't believe this was the wolf that claimed to own him.

Back at the cave, Arn had been so confident and cocky. Here within the camp he was just the lowest runt of the litter. It was an insult to be "owned" by him. Still, Duran thought to himself, at least Arn could be... handled, unlike the others.

"How about subordinate?" Duran offered with another bow. It was a title he would be used too at the very least. Serving her majesty as he already was. Now he'd have to just serve someone else... for now. It was all in the Empress name. Even if whom he was directly working with had changed. Duran could deal with that, for now.

"Yes, lackie." Arn nodded along glad Duran was on board now. Arn wasn't sure how to break Duran without... breaking him. It was just easier if the polecat agreed and obeyed. "Good, good. Now then..." Arn rubbed his hands together, looking down at the polecat.

"Hopefully a bath." Duran muttered under his breath. "What is your wish?" He just said with a bow.

"Food first." Arn nodded, scratching his stomach and sitting up a bit.

"As you command," Duran just bowed once more, yawning loudly as he headed for the door.

Duran tried not to focus on the dozen or so sleeping wolves around him as he made his way back to the center of the encampment. The fire still crackled with life but little else moved. Snores filled the air as drunken wolves sprawled about here and there, not seeming to mind the cold Duran was suffering from.

His feet, even wrapped in leather, were freezing and he kept having to rub his arms to stay warm. Duran could see his breath in front of his face as he stepped over another wolf leg to get to what was left of the food. Duran piled a bunch of stuff up onto, what he was sure had been a loincloth, and dragged it back to Arn's tent.

It'd be so easy, he mused. To return the favor while everyone was sleeping off the late night they had. So easy to slit each one of their throats. It would be what they deserve after what they did to his people.

For years, Duran had heard of the stories about the great hunters of the North. How strong, powerful and honorable they were. All he saw now was a bunch of large brutes, congratulating themselves for attacking a group of diplomats. Peacekeepers. Most of which were unarmed. Cowards, thugs and monsters. There was no honor there. In the slaughter they had committed on his people.

Duran spied his sword off to the side, sticking out of the ground. A part of him wanted to go over and use it to do just that. Get revenge. Another part of him wanted to take it, hide it and bring it back at him. The rest of him knew someone was watching. So, he just made his way back to Arn's tent at the corner of the encampment without so much as glancing over at the weapon.

The polecat wasn't too shocked to see Arn hadn't moved from where he lay. Just on one side, turned towards the door. Waiting. The wolf was tapping his finger against the bed as if counting.

"Took your time, lackie." Arn said looking up at him as he came in. "Shut the flap, don't let the cold in."

"Of course." The polecat covered the door once more, using a string to tie it to the side. "Had to make sure the meal would be suitable. Only the best, for you." Duran gave another mock bow and moved to the side to show what he had gotten. Mostly tried meat an some strange vegetables Duran wasn't familiar with. Also a couple jugs of ale. Each jug could serve four cups to Duran and would only be one for the large wolf. The wolf continued to laze out for Duran, beckoning him over with a finger.

Arn chest and stomach was a soft powder white like the snow outside. His paws were black and the rest of him a rich silver. His back mane and tail were thickest part of his fur. Twin fangs stuck out of half way down the wolf's muzzle. A long pink tongue hung from the corner of his muzzle at the sight of the food.

"What are you waiting for? Bring it over." Arn motioned with his whole hand now.

Duran did, dragging everything over. Arn scooped everything up and onto the side of the bed with that hand. Then patted the side next to it. "Come now, you have permission this time." Arn gave him a lewd grin.

Duran reluctantly obeyed, climbing up and sitting slightly in front of the wolf. Arn brought a hand over to pet the side of his face, using the same finger to stroke behind his head and hair. Then with two fingers pinched the brooch on his cloak and undid it, pulling it off along with the cloak Duran wore.

Using the back of his hand, Arn stroked over the Duran's chest now and down to one of his legs. Duran just turned his head away from it.

"Your fur is so soft," Arn spoke with a growl. One finger tugged at Duran's shirt, pulling the polecat forward, closer. One of his buttons popped off as that nail slid inside, giving his shirt another tug.

Duran grimaced but undid his shirt; it had been a gift from the Empress. He wasn't about to see it ruined or ripped by Arn's filthy paws. And so he took it off and placed it down by his cloak.

Arn growl increased as he watched, the corner of his lip rising up and a heavy pant began to fill the small of the tent.

"How do you keep your fur so... nice?" Arn asked only to get the polecat to speak. To talk to him and address him with that silken voice once more.

"I bathe." Duran just replied a bit harsher than he meant too. He quickly added on, "and comb my fur on a daily occasion. If you had a comb, I would give yours the same treatment." Duran said moving over to lay his upper chest and body against the wolf's stomach to keep Arn from noticing the tone he had given him seconds before.

Arn chuckled a bit at that, looking out over the seemingly slutty polecat lounging out against him. As if Duran couldn't resist the mighty wolf.

Duran pet over his stomach, over Arn's chest and looked up at him. "Daily. Three times if need be.." The polecat told Arn but the wolf was hardly listening.

Arn pulled Duran's muzzle up with a hand, gripping it tightly and looking him over. Petting over his chest and down his lean, muscular body. Curling Duran's tail around one finger. Then down to the loincloth he still wore and pulled it off, moving it over to lay it like a bib on Duran chest.

The polecat grimaced once more, biting his lip and gripping the fur tighter.

"Hate to stain that lovely white fur of yours."

"You're too kind..." Duran eye twitched as he replied trying not to smell the loincloth.

Arn scooped up one of the strange fruits and took a bite out of. It oozed green fluid as if bleeding. Arn offered it to Duran, the same spot he had taken a bite from. The polecat gave a half smile, regretted thanks and took a tiny bite. The skin was far tougher than Duran thought, his teeth weren't fangs like the wolves. But the tender flesh of the fruit was sweet. And the fluid was rich.

"These take four seasons to grow." Arn took another bite of the fruit after Duran returned it to him. "They are served only after a successful hunt."

"More like a slaughter." Duran almost said but caught himself just in time. "A hunt you were a part of!" Duran smiled as if to be impressed. "You deserve the reward."

The wolf growled at that, petting his face again with a hand. "An a reward I have attained." His fingers curling around the polecats neck. Tracing a dull claw along Duran's throat.

Duran did not enjoy the morning breakfast. Arn was sloppy, careless and got pieces of meat all over as he ripped into an elk thigh with his teeth. Ripping fur, meat and bone alike to devour. Chewing with his mouth open and speaking of the hunt that got them this game.

Bragging, boasting about his own accomplishments in it. Duran could read between the lines. That Arn had only been there in case a stray, sickly elk got away and the other wolves were too busy to bring down real game. Though the wolf was large, Duran had heard the elk in these parts, even the young, could continue running for miles even with every leg broken. Duran was sure such tales were exaggerated, just as the stories of the wolves had been.

During the course of the meal Arn used one of the leather belts and tied it around Duran's neck, holding the rest of it in one hand lightly. Every now and then Arn would give it a pull, whenever Duran strayed too far away. Or when he felt like it. Mostly the latter.

Arn nosed down at him after the meal, just pushing everything else to the floor with the back of a hand. He sniffed the smaller male, licking up over Duran's chest and growling against his ear. Licking the side of his face with that slimy tongue as he pulled on the leash he had made for the polecat.

Duran was resting against Arn's chest and could feel the massive wolf's heart pounding against his own body. Duran turned his head away from the wolf and closed his eye trying to think of happier places as that tongue curled underneath his muzzle and his whole snout was violated.

Duran thought of the green fields of the valley, the muddy rivers and the cities filled with people. The smell of fresh bread every morning and the sound of birds chirping even in the middle of winter. The place was full of peace, love and warmth. Unlike this cold place. That seemed devoid of all the above and more.

Duran's people were prosperous. Those of the valley were sheltered from the other nations; it provided them with everything they could need. They could've locked their borders, to isolate themselves from the outside world after the last Great War and live in such a sanctuary. They hadn't. They sought to spread the wealth; offering goodwill to one and all.

Things had not gone as plan.

Duran knew those of the Southern Isle, lizard-men or so the reports had told, had reacted in disfavor to their offers of peace. Seeking to just take what they had to offer. The war was still continuing in the south. Only small skirmishes. The badgers of the earth clan kept the Southern wall intact. Keep the lizards advances at bay and neither side showed any sign of letting up.

So it had been Duran and the Felcrest clan that was sent north to handle these treaties. The Ursa had not responded, the Gulo Gulo clans were still being reasoned with and those of Eastern mountain range had refused outright. Demanding far too much in return. Birds were so hard to satisfy, their wings gave them an unjust view of the world far below. They thought themselves better than land-dwellers and left them alone with their petty squabbles.

And thus, Duran ended up coming to the wolves.

And look where that ended him.

Such an undignified thing for an ambassador to do. Duran trained with the royal guard! Studied underneath some of the greatest scholars and government officials in this day and age! The brightest minds. He had even been granted a boon from the Empress before he left.

And here he was now, half-naked and scratching the belly of a wolf. Digging his claws underneath that thick white fur and against the skin underneath. Up over his chest and back down Arn's sides. Not exactly what he had been trained for in his studies. There were no books about belly rubs as a means to a conflict resolution.

The wolf laid out with his legs open, naked and with not a care in the world. Duran had gotten rid of the loin cloth and was focusing his attention on one of the wolf's dark nipples, instead of what was between his legs as the polecat made his way back down over his stomach. The loincloth could hide little to begin with and without it, it was a sight for sore eyes.

Duran took the first chance he got to switch topic, as Arn began to become far too comfortable for the polecats liking.

And that distraction came in the form of a thunk against the side of Arn's tent.

The wolf sat up at that, lifting up both his ears and turning towards the sound. Arn had grabbed Duran tightly with one hand and had pulled him underneath his side. Arn growled towards the door. There wasn't anyone there.

"Shall I get it?" Duran asked, closing his eye as that side of his face was pressed against the wolf's chest. Duran could smell the strong male musk coming from him. A waxy scent of the wolf's fur and the strong earthy scent of the wolf under it.

"No. This is for me." Arn growled lower, crawling over Duran and letting the polecat rolled back into the indentation the wolf had left over the night. Duran watched as the wolf took a wicked looking sword from the wall and marched outside, without even putting anything else on.

The second the tent flap closed, Duran was off the bed and pressing himself right next to the door. Listening intently.

"Your piece of meat attacked me!" A voice bellowed at Arn. The other wolf was growling, snarling and Duran knew he was baring his teeth at Arn.

Duran took a few seconds on that, thinking it over.

"You were drunk." Arn just mocked loudly, laughing at him. "It's not my fault you can't handle a... piece of meat."

The other wolf growled louder. "You can't handle your plaything! That's the issue here."

Arn chuckled even more, making the wolf even angrier. "It was such a good show though."

"If you won't tame your pet, then maybe I will." And the wolf said something in a language Duran didn't understand. "When he's mine!"

Duran nearly slipped from where he was pressed against the wall. The word the other wolf had used must've been some sort of challenge. Challenge for property ownership of the prize gained. Of Duran himself.

Arn faltered at that, his words slurring a bit as he stammered. "I-if'n my lackie can beat you. What think you I can't?" Arn's voice broke up a bit, showing his weakness once more. Uncertainty for his own strength. Even against an injured comrade.

"You need a handicap, just to keep up with the rest of us." The wolf mocked.

More words were exchanged. The time and place the duel would take place. What weapons they would use. And a few other things Duran lost track of as he slumped against the floor.

Duran's heart was pounded and he clenched his hands. Arn was a handful but manageable. Duran could control, manipulate the wolf. If he ended up being traded to another wolf, specially one with a grudge against him? Things would get ugly. Fast.

The polecat scrambled back up onto his feet and jumped up onto the bed, throwing a fur blanket over himself and turned towards the door just in time for Arn to return. The wolf was wide eyed, silent and didn't look at the polecat. Lost in his own thoughts and concerns.

Arn fumbled a bit with his sword before putting it back on the wall where he had gotten it. He hadn't set it right and the sword fell to the ground, making the wolf jump. Duran almost felt, pity, for the beast.

"What is it?" Duran asked innocently trying not to show his own concern.

"I have been challenged to a duel." Arn said slowly, blinking his eyes a few times and looked over at him. Arn had regained some composure. Duran's heart pained for a second at the look in those eyes though. Arn had gotten the best prize. Had finally won a hunting challenge. And now he was about to lose it all. Even before his moment in the spotlight had passed.

"Excellent," Duran said not letting it show he knew how worried the wolf was. "We now can all see your great fighting prowess."

"Right." Arn muttered walking over before taking a seat on the corner of the bed. The whole thing lurched under his weight.

Duran got up a bit and moved behind the wolf, rubbing his shoulders. "There isn't anything to worry about. You are the best, aren't you?" Duran tried not to sound smug already knowing the truth.

"Well..." Arn swallowed loudly. Then laughed loudly. "Of course I am! There isn't any worry at all." And the wolf turned over suddenly and pounced on the smaller polecat.

Arn pulled Duran close as he snuggled with him, holding him tightly with both arms and bringing his legs up close around him. Shutting his eyes and, very softly, whimpering as Duran pet the top of his muzzle.

"It'll be ok." Duran said softly after a few moments had gone by. A part of Duran wanted to burn the whole encampment down to the ground for what they had done. Arn was not part of them however. Those had done the deed to his people. The wolf had hunted him down during and after the attack. Arn had been driven like a hell hound to catch him. It meant this wolf didn't have the time to kill, slaughter or pillage Duran's people.

And so maybe that was why Duran wanted to help the wolf out. And the idea of being owned by the other wolf, the one Duran had injured the day before, was too much to bare the thought of.

So Duran spent most of the morning comforting the large brute who clung to him tightly like a spoiled child just told that the new toy she bought had to be returned. Duran was glad he had brought along so many jugs of wine as it helped not only Arn, but himself, deal with the issue.

"Here's the plan." Duran said finally getting free from under the wolf and sitting down on the bed in front of him. Arn was still closer than Duran would prefer, seeing as how Arn had his legs open and around Duran where he sat and still hadn't put anything else on. The wolf was hunched over and had his face close enough for Duran to feel his breath against his own whiskers.

"I don't doubt you at all," Duran easily lied. "But sometimes the best thing to do before a... tournament, is practice. Lots of it. We'll warm you up," Duran just said much in the same way his own teachers back at the palace had taught him.

Duran took one of Arn's arm, in good gesture, and began giving it a massage. Working the muscles underneath. Arn flexed his arm, showing off once more and lifting Duran up a bit as the polecat held on.

"There are other ways to work oneself out." Arn growled, huffing a breath against Duran's face.

"Which reduces performance in combat." Duran, once more, lied. "Give you that much more to work for." Duran pressed, letting go and standing up between the wolf's legs and opening his arms. "Just use that lust during the fight. And your sure to win."

The wolf didn't seem certain and tried not to let it show. To be mocked and humiliated in front of the whole pack as the other wolf had been when he lost to Duran, drunk or not. It was a risk Arn wasn't willing to take. Not after his moment of fame.

"Yeah but whose the best damn hunter there is?" Duran asked cheerfully. Arn fidgeted a bit at that and said nothing. "Whose the best damn warrior there is?" Duran continued giving the wolf a shove now on his shoulder. "And whose going to win this duel? Huh?" Duran felt as if he were talking to a child as the wolf grinned at that. "Whose going to win this duel?" Now it felt he were talking to Arn as if the wolf were his pet rather than reversed. "You are! Yes, you are!" And Duran scratched the wolf's neck and shoulder and at his chest.

Arn grinned, wagging his tail and chuckled at that. Laughing and kicking his legs a bit as Duran sacrificed the rest of his pride to baby the wolf like this. Arn grabbed him in a mighty hug.

It would be hours before the two actually got to any sort of training.

"And when is this duel?" Duran asked as he raised up his ceremonial sword; Arn had to get it for him. It had been in the storage, when Duran asked. Meaning it had been placed in the open by someone and returned after. It was a thought Duran couldn't focus on.

Arn was holding that wicked edged sword he had used before. It was blackened by fire. Arn had stuck it into the fire pit as they had walked by. Some sort of ritual, Duran could only really figure. The two had strapped leather wrist guards and vests on for the mock duel.

"Not for three days." Arn lifted up the sword and swung it with his whole body. Duran easily dodged the exaggerated movements, as not only was the technique poor but with that amount of force behind it; it'd kill Duran if it hit him. "Grimkel needs to heal from the wounds you gave him." Arn said that with a smug smile, swinging openly again.

Duran ducked under the blade.

"Good. Cause your going to need a lot of work." Duran sighed a bit, lowering his blade. He spun it around and stuck the tip in the ground before walking over. The wolf was standing on his hind legs, a bit hunched over and was frowning down at the polecat now. "You got the strength behind the attack. Hell, your probably the strongest one here." Duran didn't need to lie there. "But you lack finesse."

Arn scrunched up his brow, not saying anything. Duran rolled his eyes.

"It's uh..." Duran chose not to use a few key words to describe it. Skill. Tact. Being good. "Mostly experience." Duran said in a lighthearted tone trying not to stress it too much, not to rub the wolf's face in it. "Which is why we're here now."

Duran moved closer, making the wolf stiffen. "Your stance is off." Duran moved one of Arn's legs back slightly, turning the knee a bit inwards. "Keep your back straight. Shoulders in. Let the sword," Duran was at his side now holding Arn's arm and looking down it. "Be part of your arm itself. Don't just swing it around like a club."

Arn grumbled a bit almost just dropping the sword there and calling it quits. Duran kept up the encouragement, working through each attack as Arn made them. It was far harder work than Duran would've thought. Like working with a stubborn child. While at the same time unable to discipline him as Duran had been during his training sessions.

Instead, he had to do something else entirely. Constructive criticism was met with only resistance. The more Duran tried to more defensive Arn got. Calling it quits twice. No, instead Duran changed tactics himself.

Positive reinforcement with several forms of rewards. Food was always a good motivator. Belly rubs seemed to be as well, though Duran tried not too. And a string of compliments went just as far.

"Well done. You learn so fast. I never doubted you." Type of things after another with physical contact.

Until finally Duran could sit on the side lines and watch Arn go through the drills. It had to be near afternoon. The others within the camp would be waking soon.

The two had moved behind Arn's tent, outside the encampment. Duran had drawn out a ring for Arn to stay in, to practice and govern. Creating a controlled environment to manage the wolf. Duran saw it more as a cage for the beast, taking great pleasure in watching Arn stop next to the edge and move back to the center.

"An interesting idea," a voice came from behind Duran. The polecat shivered but didn't look up, knowing who it was. Duran wasn't sure how Bernard had snuck up on him, the wolf might've been smaller than Arn but still was a sight. The wolf crouched down slightly behind and to Duran's left. "We usually use the training grounds near the capital."

Duran ear twitched at that. He wasn't aware the nomadic wolves had a capital. They usually roamed the North, following wherever the Elk went. Or so reports had said. His lack of confirmed information left him rather blind in this matter.

"I figured sparring practice would be a common trait, amongst warriors." Duran looked over a bit at the wolf. A bit unnerved of how close he was sitting. Bernard could kill him at any time without even the slightest form of retribution.

Bernard grunted and said nothing on the matter.

"Arn is strong. He has the skill. Just lacks confidence in his attacks when met with a real enemy." Duran turned back to watch the wolf, musing more to himself than to Bernard.

"Confidence doesn't seem to be the issue now." Bernard scratched at his chin, his one good ear flicking as he turned to look down at Duran. "I take it, you had something to do with this?"

"I have my ways." Duran muttered, looking away and trying not to flush from embarrassment. He was just glad Bernard hadn't been watching when Duran had given Arn a pep talk.

"And here I was worried." Bernard chuckled lightly, standing back up. He placed a hand on Duran's had and messed up his fur. Bernard sniffed at his fingers after. "I see he hadn't claimed you yet." The wolf mused loudly, not expecting a response. Duran didn't have one to give him.

"Need to focus on the duel." Duran muttered, ending up trying to explain himself anyways.

"The challenge was sent this morning, was it not? He had plenty of time last night." Bernard replied. "Do me a favor, though. Little one. Watch my brother for me." And with that Bernard left.

Duran was fixing his hair when those words finally set in. "Brother?" Duran looked back at him then over at Arn. "You got to be kidding me." The polecat face fell, as if things hadn't been complicated enough.

It would explain Bernard's interest in the matter. Duran had been hoping to keep a low profile, and in a single night had not only made an enemy but had gotten the attention of the war-party leader.

Duran needed to think, to meditate on this. To find some way he can use this to his advantage. The polecat crossed his legs and sat down, facing forward with closed eyes as he thought everything over.

Arn might've been the lowest member of the group, but he still was a member. Duran could use him, help Arn rise in the ranks and then through the wolf directly influence the group. It was a hopeful thought, possible maybe. It'd take more work than the polecat had planned for this mission.

The issue with the duel would work in Duran's favor, so long as Arn won. Otherwise Duran might have to take things into his own hands...

And finally, Bernard. The wolf leader was cunning, sharp and dangerous. However, he hadn't seemed to be aware of the treaty. If Duran could find proof that they had gotten permission to cross the border, then he could use that against Bernard. Guilt the wolf, without rubbing it in his face of course.

That's only if Arn won. He could somehow find the documents. And also not get killed in the meantime. Duran's headache was already growing as Arn came back over, crouching down in front of him and snorting over his face.

"You smell like one of the sewer canals," Duran said opening his eyes to look down the wolf's snout and into his face. Duran twitched his mouth into a smile, before laughing and getting back up. "If it'd please you, lord." Duran lowered his head and opened up his arms in a flourished bow. "I can prepare a bath for you. After such a long session, without stop!" Duran said not focusing on the times Arn had quit. "It's be the best way to end a session."

Arn snorted once more, standing up and stretching his arms open wide. "Good." And then Arn snagged Duran and began dragging him along. "I need a good scrub."

Duran was already regretting this.