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The full moon laughed in his face and a few faint stars twinkled to the rhythm of this silent mockery. He could barely see them. Maybe they did not want to see him – their disgraced worshipper – and hid behind thick clouds, leaving him to the moon’s judgement.
He could barely recall when, as a young boy, he would await the full moon to rise with both great anticipation and fear. But soon it became obvious he was not like the ones he grew up surrounded with. He was the dog, the mutt among the wolves. Traitor’s blood ran in his veins before he could even feel it – others smelled it even from afar.
His fate was always to turn against his kind and serve its enemy. And it came true.
As the years went by, he did not spare a single thought to what it would feel like again. It was a long time since he even saw it – the moment the beastly nature took over the human body, twisting and turning it to its image and likeness – and he did not regret it.
Roaring water rushed beneath him, the deafening sound of its everlasting chase made him feel like his nerves were stretched beyond return.
Tonight, he was no longer a watchdog. He was degraded. Humiliated.
He had failed to fulfill his purpose. He allowed the convict, the law’s prey, to escape his claws, returning from the hunt bearing no catch for his master between his jaws. Such a useless hound should have been shot before it starts to bring losses, but life decided to spare him in an act of cruel mercy.
But was it just another prey he had been chasing, after all?
In the last few hours the image of the man appeared to change in his mind. It was no longer a feral creature on the run. Unbroken by his butchers, but bearing their tortures’ permanent marks. His mane clipped, matted and faded, resembled a sacrificial lamb’s curls more than a magnificent beast’s greatest pride. Yet, for him he was a sacred lion.
To hunt and drag such a creature to the justice’s feet now seemed both something unthinkable and impossible for him, but the immortal sense of discipline still urged him to obey.
He turned away from the parapet, halfway decided to return and fulfill his ever unchanging orders.
At once, a sudden force made him halt, then face the river again. With dread, he recognized it as coming from the very core of his being. His will has been split in half.
The moon’s trembling reflection on the water seemed to shake in soundless laughter again, its owner curiously observing his pitiful battle with himself. He was frozen in place now, panic setting in his body.
He must obey. That is what he lives for
and this is all he had known.
His service brings justice
in the name of the law, doesn’t it?
Yet…
The man he had hunted trough the years
turned out to be undeserving of such fate.
He bested him at being a human.
He pushed his thoughts
in a direction unknown to him before.
But…
Was one man enough to prove the point?
The streets were full of both evil crooks
and desperate beggars.
Why was his watchdog’s nose
never able to tell the difference before?
How many times had he contributed to similar tragedies?
He was now seeing the image clearly.
Him – a blind servant to his cruel master,
a master of rubbish laws and false justice.
And his victim – the light
illuminating the darkness of ignorance in his mind.
This was unbearable–
Suddenly, a sharp pain overcame his whole body. He curled in on himself as if hit. His muscles twitched and spasmed, making his limbs stiff and tensed. Soon, he was forced to fall to his knees.
With great effort, he lifted his head to see the moon shining mercilessly above him.
“What is happening to me?” he muttered under his breath, to no one in particular. He tried to rise, but his body became rigid. His hair, ruffled by the night wind, now broke free from the ribbon completely and covered his face.
The moon only stared down at him in response.
The spasms continued. He could feel the nauseating sensation of his insides turning and moving in him, as if all his systems tried to reshape into a new form. His palms and fingers itched…
When he looked down at his, now animal–like, clawed hand, sweat covered his forehead as the realization set in.
After so many years… It can’t happen! His body has long forgotten how–
A loud, dry crack pierced the air. He cried out in agony for it was the sound of his bones and joints, then collapsed on the cobblestone. As he lied curled up, his body flexed in both convulsions of the transformation and his desperate attempts to fight it.
It was too late, he was too far gone.
With the next crack, the sound that escaped Javert’s mouth was no longer human.
⋆ ☾ ⋆ ☽ ⋆
Inspector’s familiar coat was laying at Valjean’s feet. When he lifted it off the ground, the fabric unfolded revealing itself to be terribly torn. Enormous cuts and scratches begun near the buttons, which were now ripped from the cloth, and continued on the shoulders and back. It almost looked like something tried to take it off in a half–human, half–animalistic way and succeeded, leaving the ruined piece of clothing behind.
Valjean shuddered at the implications.
What could have attacked the inspector in the middle of the city? It wasn’t like many people owned dogs big enough to leave such marks and no beast of the forest could have made it this far and roam the streets unnoticed. What, then?
A feral howl interrupted his thoughts abruptly. When he looked up, his gaze met icy blue eyes – two cold flames regarding him hungrily. The creature was approaching him, having crouched down to a hunting position. Valjean could see how its steps were unsteady, like it was feeling alien in its own body. Yet, it kept the façade of a hound stalking its prey.
The canine which was cautiously making its way towards him could be likened in size to the biggest breeds of its domestic cousins, however it had the strong physique and the grin of a wolf. Its dark coat merged into one with the night, silver highlights being the only part that reflected the moonlight. The beast looked as if covered in stars.
As the creature got closer, Valjean could hear the threatening growl building up in its throat, yet he was unable to move a muscle, transfixed by the sight.
From where he stood he could now clearly see the canine’s muzzle, twisted in a grimace of fierceness. It had something human to it. On either side of its mouth Valjean saw thick whiskers speckled with silver like the rest of its fur. The beast’s ears were pointing backwards, but even in such position their slight droopiness was obvious. It was not a wolf, at least not fully.
The wolfdog stopped at an arm’s length distance. Its growls turned into furious whines now, as it looked up at Valjean with both frenzy and purpose in its eyes. His eyes.
Valjean drew a shaky breath at the revelation. This was not what attacked the inspector. This was him.
He heard stories but never believed them. They all sounded like some fairytales told by one naïve child to another. But now, as he was standing face to face with this strange creature, he couldn’t ignore its eerily familiar features and the human–like pattern of its noises, which sounded like despaired pleas now.
He just had to try.
“Jav–“ Valjean had no chance to finish, as the addressed creature lost its temper and launched forward, knocking him over and pinning him by the arms to the parapet’s base with its sharp claws.
The next moment, Valjean felt a pair of strong jaws closing around his throat. A fang pierced his skin, drawing a thin trickle of blood. He closed his eyes.
The strength with which the jaws were clenched did not decrease, but did not increase either. Valjean could breath, but was trapped by the weight that pressed on his sitting form. The wolfdog’s panting was hot against his skin.
Slowly, he dared to lift his hand to the beast’s head and touch it gently. His already unstable breath hitched as he felt wetness and discovered with a start that it were tears staining the fur, flowing from those blue eyes that now followed his movements distrustfully.
Finally, he settled for cupping the side of its jaw with his palm. His fingers carded through the whiskers instinctively in a soothing motion.
“Javert.” Valjean whispered eventually, as he felt the jaws tremble in uncertainty. They opened with a pitiful whine coming out of them. The creature slouched and collapsed, its heavy head dropped on Valjean’s lap. Warmth radiated from its body. “So it is you.” Valjean added softly. Another whimper answered him.
“I– Do you understand me?” he asked, but the beast remained unmoved. “Javert, do you understand what I’m saying?” Valjean repeated the question, this time nudging its side gently.
The wolfdog shivered and drew away slightly, then lifted its head and, not meeting Valjean’s eyes, nodded tiredly. Valjean nodded back.
“Javert, is this…” he gestured at Javert’s current form. “…temporary?”
Another nod and with a deep sigh, his head fell once again to Valjean’s lap.
“Oh, I’m… glad.” Valjean didn’t really know what else to say, yet he felt the urge to act. Again, he slowly extended his hand towards his unexpected companion of this strange night and put it tentatively on his back. Javert’s skin and fur twitched but he did not move further away.
Now as they were sitting without a word, the man because such was his choice and the beast because such was his nature, a peculiar kind of comfort surrounded them.
A quiet conciliation.
Javert, his mind fogged after the transformation, was just starting to calm down. Mere hours ago he was expecting a confrontation, some final verdict of fate, but now, as he was voluntarily laying his head in the lap of the man he had hunted, he did not feel as if it was like to lay one’s head under the executioner’s axe. Nor he had a wish of pursuit now. He just needed to rest, as the unimaginable torture he had just been trough drained him completely and the hand in his fur was strangely soothing.
After a moment Valjean realized he has been petting him absentmindedly for a while. He stopped at once.
“I’m sorry, it’s just…” he mumbled an apology quite embarrassed. “…it’s soft, you know. I got distracted.”
Javert huffed in amusement, shifting slightly, pressing his warm side to Valjean’s leg. He didn’t seem to mind.
“Would you like to come home with me? It’s beginning to get cold…” the man ventured to propose. When an affirming noise came, he slowly rose to his feet. The canine followed.
⋆ ☾ ⋆ ☽ ⋆
Javert woke up on an unfamiliar couch, covered with an unfamiliar blanket to which black and silver strands of fur stuck. It wasn’t morning yet, but the moon has already disappeared beyond horizon, freeing Javert from the four–legged, howling form. He sat up and shot a disoriented look around, not recognizing his surroundings at all. Finally, his gaze found the other man, sitting right where Javert’s head was moments ago. Only then, he remembered and a wave of embarrassment overcame him.
Valjean, undisturbed, was dabbing up the small wound on his neck with a piece of gauze. It was coming off red. He was looking at the bite in a small mirror he held, concern written on his face.
“It’s not contagious like some say, no need to worry.” Javert felt the sudden need to assure him. His voice was hoarse. He wasn’t sure if it was the effect of those wild noises he made while still in a canine body or just long sleep.
“That’s good to hear.” Valjean turned to him with a small smile, then continued cleaning the wound. “Still, I want to make sure it heals properly.”
“Right.” Javert simply nodded.
“Do you need anything?” the older man asked after a moment, putting the gauze back in the bowl of water he had prepared earlier on a small table. “Are you hungry?”
“How did you even find me?” Javert ignored his questions to ask his own. “Why…?” there was a hint of uncertainty and shame in his eyes, although masked with distance, that made Valjean pity him once more.
“I… think I sensed a troubled soul. The bridge was pure coincidence.” he answered frankly. “Maybe I was guided by intuition, God’s will, call it as you wish. Nevertheless, I’m glad I found you.” Valjean’s last sentence made Javert inhale abruptly.
“It was rather stupid of you. I could have snapped your neck!” he retorted sharply.
“Yet I knew you would not before you even clamped your jaws around it.” there was such a powerful certainty in Valjean’s answer that it stunned Javert. The man was indeed a saint.
A few heartbeats passed in silence.
“Did you see me turning back?” Javert couldn’t wait to ask any longer.
“I did.” came a quiet response. “And I am thankful that your exhaustion did not let you experience it awake and conscious. Javert, it was…” the man shuddered. “I can only imagine how much pain you must have felt the first time.” there was boundless compassion in his eyes. Javert lowered his gaze.
They fell silent once again, bud Valjean’s mind was also riddled with questions.
“You know, I always thought your kind–“
“Do not call it my kind, Valjean.” Javert’s interruption was full o spite. “I have been shunned long ago, when I made my choices, and I myself have shunned them in return.”
Valjean nodded in understanding.
“I see. That actually answers the question I meant to ask.” his voice was slow and calming now. “Forgive me, I didn’t want to cause any painful memories to flood back.”
“And what was the question?”
“I wanted to know why you don’t live in a pack of sort, like people say the… wolf people do, but now you’ve already explained it.” Valjean said quietly. When Javert stayed silent and just looked at him with an unreadable expression on his face, he started to worry he had insulted him. “Of course, if that is their way of living. I truly know as much as from what is passed on in gossips of the street…”
“They do. But that is a much longer story.” the other man said. “I have nothing to do with them and I do not live according to their customs. I don’t think it’s relevant for now. Or ever, actually.”
“You are right. You should rest now.” Valjean’s hands already moved to the blanket that was hanging from Javert’s shoulders, adjusting it. “Won’t you lie down? Your body surely is still sore after what it had to go through tonight.” he grabbed the other man’s arm gently and pulled him back to a laying position. Javert did not know why he obeyed, but the exhaustion indeed was taking its toll on him again, after just a brief conversation. He let himself be handled like this wordlessly.
His head landed on Valjean’s lap, on which a cushion lay. Javert realized in horror that it must have been how he spent the last few hours as well, but didn’t have the strength to argue. If the other man permitted it, let it be so for now.
The hand in his loose hair quickly soothed him back to sleep.