The General and the Princess
When her castle falls, a vixen Princess finds herself bound as slave to the general of the Wolf army. However, as she learns more about her captor, she discovers that he is perhaps not quite so evil a man as she first believes.
A side story taking place in the world of "Unseen, Unheard, Unknown". Reading the others isn't necessary to understand this entry, although the first of them can provide a bit of context to the world.
For those just wanting to get to the juicy bits - Ctrl-F for "The bed sags as Gunter settles back"
Smoke from dozens of buildings wafted through the first light of dawn above the battered capital of the Vulpine nation, scattered fires still burning from the final overnight assault that had just ended three months of siege. The foxes had put up a valiant fight, but the stress of being besieged will wear on even the most ardent of armies, and several lupine attackers had managed to slip over the wall and open one of the smaller gates. It was all over at that point - the wall had been their last salvation, and with attackers inside the city, the defense had quickly crumbled.
Looking down the grey hairs of his lupine snout (although he had to admit there was a bit more white there than had been the case even a couple of years previously), Lord-General Gunter Hurrell walked down what had been the main market street of the city, taking in the beleaguered state of both the structures and the populace. In terms of sieges, it had been a brief one; but Wolven warriors were not renowned for their restraint, and the sacking of the city had been brutal. Even now the general could see the half dozen members of his honor guard having to restrain themselves from their desire to join in on the carnage.
At this point, his army controlled the entire city... except for the palace keep. It was built like a small fortress inside the city walls, with a single well-fortified entrance. While the foxes weren't making any effort to strike back from the facility - the few that had tried learned just how accurate a wolven crossbow could be - they still had the door locked down tight, and the city could not be considered truly defeated until this last point of resistance had been snuffed out.
A motley assortment of soldiers and engineers worked at the outside of the door, working at breaking off steel strapping and spikes to make enough room for the battering ram to strike cleanly. The work stops briefly as the general approaches, the soldiers offering their victorious commander a salute and a rousing cheer for his quick end to what could have been multiple years spent in siege, but they immediately get back to work as he returns the salute, just as eager as he is to bring things to their conclusion.
Approaching a grizzled one-eyed wolf sergeant, Gunter removes his helmet before offering a familiar greeting. "Hendrick, you old flea bag, good to see you're in one piece... or at least as few as you were yesterday. How are things progressing."
The sergeant lets out a laugh, the joke a familiar one between the friends. "'bout as well as can be expected. Place is locked down as tight as a temple maiden's cunt, but we'll wedge her open before long. A day, two at the most, assuming they don't piss themselves and open it for us. Already told 'em in no uncertain terms that if they surrender they'll live and that if the don't, every last person in those walls is going to die slowly, but they haven't budged. 'Course they're just foxes, not like they're smart enough to find their own balls with both hands and a mirror."
"So even the royal family hasn't given word to discuss terms? I'd have expected the King to try negotiating at this point."
Hendrick's face lights up with a big smile, revealing more than a few broken teeth from his time fighting on the lines. "You telling me I found out some news before the great Lord-General? Well, I guess there's a first for everything. They ain't in there. Tried to pull the slip on us, mix in with some of the crowds fleeing after the gates were opened. Didn't work, although I gotta give the old man credit, he went down fighting. Prince did too - Princess is the only one that survived to be captured. Was pointless, flimsy little foxies went down like ragdolls when they tried to attack our wolves, but at least they had some guts... until they met some swords, and didn't."
Gunter offers a sigh. He really should have heard the news first, but the 'old flea bag' was a crafty one, so it wasn't much of a surprise. "So Princess Sasha is the only survivor of the royal family. Where is she? I'm not of a mind to wait on this door to come down any more than I wanted to wait for the city to fall, and I have an idea."
The sun is fully up when the sergeant returns, along with with the princess and an escort of a dozen wolven soldiers. Tall for a fox, Princess Sasha's head comes up nearly to Gunter's chin; her otherwise petite frame has the normal markings of red fox, with black gloves and socks, a white streak of fur going from her chin down the neck of her dress, and a little white puff on the end of her tail that in some act of minor teenage defiance she had apparently decided to dye blue, although the patches of white starting to poke back through made it likely that this had happened well before the siege. Despite her rough appearance, with her long hair tangled and her common dress that she wore to better blend with the fleeing crowds being tattered and muddy, she is still very much an image of vulpine beauty.
Gunter stands in the center of the courtyard with his arms crossed behind his back, observing the work of the engineers. He has to admit that as weak as the Foxes were in direct combat, they did have some good builders. Estimates had been bumped up from one day, to two, to nearly a week to get the door open as they'd had more time to work on it.
As the Princess' escort arrives, the old wolf points to the ground next to him as he turns and nods to Hendrick. With a wicked grin, Hendrick grabs Sasha by the hair and hauls her over to the spot indicated; she stumbles along behind him, looking as though she had been drained of the will to fight back, her cheek fur stained with tears. As he reaches the general, he lets go of the princess, then hands Gunter a heavy burlap sack. "Thank you, Sergeant. You're dismissed - the Princess and I need to have a little talk."
Snickering, Hendrick nods. "Little talk, eh? Have some fun with 'er, but try to save enough for the rest of us. Found out the little minx had a dagger in her dress when they caught 'er, managed to give the boys a few scratches, I think they're looking forward to paying the little bitch back." The Lord-General doesn't respond, merely keeping his gaze fixed on the sergeant's; after a few seconds, Hendrick is the first to blink, dropping his posture in submission and backing away.
One he is out of earshot, Gunter turns to the vixen and looks her in the face, although she keeps her eyes fixedly on the ground. "Princess Sasha. Do you know who I am?"
Seeming to choke back a sob, the fox tentatively responds. "N... no... sir... I don't know... any wolves..."
"I am called Lord-General Hurrell. I'm the commander of the army that took the city. I... am somewhat saddened that this is the first chance you know that you've come face to face with the Wolven people. Not all of us are so... let's say barbaric at those you have met so far."
With another sob, the princess slowly looks up, starting to take in the man before her. While she wasn't entirely familiar with wolves, they were enough similarities with foxes that she had to guess this one was in his 50s, the same age as her King father, with similar lightening of the fur and lines starting to form near his eyes. Despite his age, he was still had the bearing and brawn of a warrior, wearing armor that might have been gilded but was just as effective as the finest knight, and a blade whose hilt looked decidedly more battle worn than any general she had previously met.
A bit of relief was felt as he saw the Princess look back up at him. He had worried that she had been too brutalized after her capture to take in what he had said, but perhaps the soldiers had managed to show at least a bit of restraint. He decided to get straight to the point. "I'm sure you're aware by now that the city has fallen. There is only one remaining point of resistance, the castle keep itself. I would like to minimize the remaining suffering inflicted on both sides of the army by having them surrender peacefully."
"But... why tell me this?"
"Because you can make that happen. Your father fell to save your life, as well as your brother. By your people's line of succession, I believe that puts you on the throne. Your word is their law. Tell them to throw down their arms, to open the door. You can save their lives. Save your home from the torch, save your guards from the blade. All it will take is a few words."
She stands shivering before the imposing wolf, her eyes locked on his. Despite his best attempt to sound sympathetic and compassionate, Gunter knew he had trouble repressing his naturally dominant nature. He simply keeps looking at her, letting her process the situation, giving her the time to stop and think for the first time since the mad battle to capture the city had begun the night before. Finally, she gives an almost imperceptible nod.
"Thank you." He turns to his own men, and with a booming voice, calls out his orders. "Crossbowmen! You are to hold your shots unless it appears one of them is about to attack. They and I are going to have a little talk."
Taking Sasha by the arm, the two approach the gate. The engineers halt their noisy work as he approaches, stepping back and respectfully watching. Finally standing a mere dozen paces from the gate, he resumes his commanding tone. "Defenders of the keep! I am Lord-General Gunter Hurrell. My men have stayed their arms that we might talk. Will one of your number speak for you?"
Above the gate, there is a small balcony where the King had once addressed his people within the courtyard. A stout wooden double door was closed over the opening - the engineers had decided it would be easier to get the larger gate open with the battering ram than the smaller one open without - but after nearly thirty seconds, one half cracks open, and a shadow of a figure can be seen hiding behind the other half, not entirely trusting the cease-fire. "I've heard your name before, General. I'm Rodik, Captain of the castle's guard. I hear you're supposed to be an honorable one, General Hurrell, but I don't think there's much point to us talking. Even if it costs our lives, we can't surrender our King or his family to you."
Gunter had expected the response. There was little point in holding the keep with the King and his family having fled, but for one thing - buying time. The members of the guard had chosen to feign the presence of the royals within the keep to distract the wolves, and buy time for their escape. It was a brave plan considering what they faced for their resistance, and might have even worked had the escape attempt been more skillful.
"Captain, You're taking a bold path, but it's one that's already ended. We already know the King isn't inside the keep. You might want to step out and take a look at this." Gunter waits for a moment, then sees the shadow shift, and a vulpine face look out in his direction. Its eyes grow wide on seeing the Princess standing beside the general, but they go yet wider when Gunter opens the bag Hendrick had given him and dumps the contents on the ground at his feet - the vulpine King's crown. "Your continued resistance is without purpose." Turning to the vixen beside him, the wolf reaches out and pats her back. "Your turn now, Princess."
She takes a couple of steps forward, nearly staggering before regaining her footing. "Rodik." she chokes out, her voice catching; she coughs a couple of times, then seems to summon up what strength she has left. "Rodik, Father and Brother are dead, and I'm their prisoner. You don't need to do this any more. Please, just... come out of there, lets end the violence."
The fox on the balcony hesitates for a moment, then slips back inside and shuts the door. Several long minutes pass and Gunter starts to wonder if he had been wrong about the captain, if there was some other reason they held out, and if they would have to slash and burn their way in after all; however, they finally hear the sound of work behind the door as braces ands bars are removed, before the door opens several feet with a groan of its immense hinges. One by one, fox soldiers begin to exit with hands on their heads and empty scabbards, each offering a nod of their head to their princess before they are taken by one of the wolves, bound, and hauled off to the prisoner camp.
After roughly a dozen soldiers depart, one more fox dressed in officer's garb emerges. "That's it, old wolf. Rest of the soldiers were on the walls or fell to the crossbows, and the staff were instructed to retreat to their homes and families before the keep was sealed. The castle is yours."
Cheers go up from the wolves at the final pronouncement; Gunter offers Rodik a nod as the fox is restrained and led off. "Thank you, Captain. I'll see to it that your men are treated honorably, and this will free up my attention to be sure the order of the city is restored as quickly as possible." He then leads Sasha back across the courtyard, toward where his command tent was starting to come up - something that now seemed unnecessary, the keep itself would house his commanders just fine.
As he reaches the tent, a grinning Hendrick approaches. "Fine job again, Lord General! Didn't even have to use up that bit of foxy flesh none." He grabs Sasha by the arm and starts hauling her off, toward a group of Wolven soldiers that appeared to have recently come off of duty. Gunter noticed that a couple of them had recent but shallow slash wounds to the face - presumably, these were the men that had been responsible for the Princess' capture. She gives a startled yelp, then a look of abject terror crosses her face when she sees where she is being led.
The Lord-General watches for a few seconds as Sasha is taken. By the laws put forth from Wolf King Varga, all members of conquered races were to be considered slaves, and it was the right of soldiers to take their share of loot in slaves and property. That promise was the main method by which the army recruited - unlike the armies of its neighbors, which were principally conscripted, the Wolven army was entirely volunteer, and very well trained. In addition, there were no protections for slaves. The soldiers tended to be particularly brutal immediately after a battle, taking out their wounds and the loss of friends and comrades on the capture population. Gunter imagined the Princess was about to be put through things most people couldn't dream of, and there was little he could do to deny the men their right of conquest, particularly against a new slave who had injured them.
Except... there was one option. "Hendrick, wait." The grizzled sergeant stops and turns back, a curious look across his face. "Since this war started, I've not made any claim to slave or pillage. However, I think a Princess seems to be one of the few rewards I've come across suited to my position." He turns to the other soldiers. "You men still have first right to claim her, but I ask you do me this honor. In exchange, I will award you each a full year's pay as bonus from my own stake, taken from the keep's treasury. What say you?"
A look of brief disappointment crosses their faces, before the last bit sinks in, when they start cheering even louder than when the keep was surrendered. One of the wounded men, apparently their leader, steps forward. "You can have the bitch. Hell, wouldn't be able to tell she's a Princess for more than a couple hours longer anyway, and that'll be enough to buy us a dozen each! Long live King Varga, and Long Live Lord General Harrell!"
The rest of the afternoon is spent securing the keep and the city, with the command staff of the army moving to set up within the keep. While there were still sections of the vulpine nation holding out, with the fall of their capital and King, the rest was simply a matter of time. Lord-General Harrell had already informed the rest of his command staff of a decision the King had made months before, on a scroll bearing his handwriting and seal - that once the city had been captured, the Lord-General was promoted to Lord-Governor of the territory, and was to rule over the occupied land in the King's name.
Accordingly, once the day's activity came to a close, Gunter finds himself in the King's - now his own - bedroom suite. Stepping inside, he sees Sasha sitting in a chair by a fireplace, a book on her lap; two guards flank the door, watching her to be sure she doesn't attempt any mischief. She appears much refreshed from her state in the afternoon. Gunter had given orders that her chamber maid be located and Sasha given a chance to clean up; the vixen maid had seen to it that her Princess had been bathed, her hair combed back out, and she had been given one of her own dresses. The guards are dismissed with a wave of the wolf's hand and he locks the door behind him, although he simply leaves the key sitting in the lock before crossing the room toward his bedroom, gesturing her to follow.
Looking over his shoulder at his new slave, he sees she has placed her book on a side table and is looking at him with fear as she stands, her shoulders starting to quiver. Still, the fight has left her, and she follows behind him. As they enter the bedroom, he closes the door, then turns to her. "Sasha, please help me with my armor." With shaky hands, she steps forward, then starts fumbling at the plates; a rare smile starts to cross his face at her naive attempts, it seems as though she has little knowledge or experience with matters of war, not that he expected much else. "The leather straps, between the plates. There are four of them on each side. Once you get those, I can get the rest myself, but those are hard to reach."
"Y... yes sir! Sorry sir, please don't... I'll do better next time, I promise, I'll learn!" Her fingers prove amazingly nimble once finally pointed in the correct direction and she soon has the straps freed.
Reaching for the left shoulder, Gunter looses a couple more straps, before lifting his half plate body armor off and placing it on a wooden rack in the corner. "Calm down, girl, you're going to die of stress at this rate. You'll find me more refined than the others you've met so far. I'm not going to beat you, or take you to bed against your will. For that matter, you don't even need to do this, you can go out and keep reading your book if you want." Removing his chain mail under-armor and placing it on another level of the armor rack, he sits down and sets to removing the sections of his leg armor. "By necessity you may be a prisoner who must stay within the keep, and by law you are a slave... but I don't intend to treat you as such. I simply ask for some civility on your part, which I will repay in kind."
She steps back, clasping her hands above her breasts, looking at her supposed captor curiously. She had spent much of the last two years in court hearing little but the reports of the brutality of the wolves. This Lord-General... Lord-Governor, she corrected herself... seemed nothing like she expected from one of them. "But... why? Especially after you gave up so much to ask for me?"
Armor finished, the wolf is left in little more than a linen shirt and shorts. The shirt he removes and simply tosses to the floor in front of the armor stand - there would be attendants to take care of that, and he'd receive a fresh one in the morning, anyway. His bare chest and arms are powerfully muscled, much more befitting a front line warrior than a commander; the same can be said of the myriad of scars crossing his body. Sighing, he leans back, propping himself up with his arms and staring at the ceiling. "Would you believe, little vixen, that today wasn't the first time we've met?"
"But... how could that be? I've never seen a wolf in the flesh before today." She settles down into a dressing chair,
He just shakes his head, then looks over at her. "You don't remember meeting a wolf before today. That's not entirely surprising. I think you were... maybe three years old last time I saw you? Things have not always been so strained between our people. Before King Varga ascended the throne and declared his prophecy, the nations of fox and wolf were quite close. We traded, with lived in each others cities... many often married, despite such couples not being able to bear children."
With a sigh, Gunter collapses the rest of the way against the bed. "Few in the Wolven army know this, but there is a reason that the King chose me to command this expedition. It was a test. Your father and I were good friends at one time." He seems to sink in to the bed, his eyes half lidded. Before, he had looked strong and commanding, but as Sasha observes him now, he just seems weary. "Not just friends. We were family, of sorts. I was married to your aunt, your mother's sister. I was there when you were born, little fox, just in the next room over, as my wife helped her sister through her labor."
The vixen stands and steps over to the bed, sitting on its edge, that she could see his face better. "I knew I had an aunt, that she died from the same plague as mom when I was little. But no one ever told me about a wolf."
"The situation was already pretty tense by the time you'd have been old enough to learn about it. They likely didn't want the rest of the court reminded about the King's wolf friend as much as anything, for fear it would cast doubt upon him. Your aunt and I lived in the wolf lands most of the time, but travelled frequently to visit. Even after her death, I returned a couple of times, to visit the King and his family. It was only after King Varga closed the border that I found myself unable to return."
He feels the bed shift again, and looks over to find that the Princess has regained her feet. The expression on her face is hard to read, somewhere between pain, confusion, and anger. "But if you liked this place so much, if you liked Father, then why attack? Wouldn't you try to stop it, to slow down the army, or to refuse the order?"
"Sasha... you don't understand everything that was going on. Everything that happened, or other ways things could have happened."
"No, I don't. And if understanding that was what lead you to kill so many people, even those you called family, I don't want to know." The angry vixen storms out of the room, slamming the door shut on her way out.
With a deep sigh, Gunter throws his arm across his face as exhaustion finally begins overtaking him. That could have gone better... although he supposed it could also have gone much worse. But for now, at least she was safe in his care, and he intended to keep her safe - it was the only way he had left to honor the memory of his old friend.
Sasha sits within her father's library, a short distance down the hall from his sitting room. She hadn't spoken a word to her wolf captor in the last several days, since the first night after she had been taken; he had tried greeting her on a couple of occasions, but she had simply turned away, and it seems he had finally given up on trying. Still, he had given the guards orders to permit her a bit of freedom within the castle - nothing outside the royal apartments, but that had been most of her life before the siege anyway.
The biggest difference was the guards. She was never permitted to be alone, without a wolf in her company, aside from a few minutes each day in the baths. That, and the nights. In theory, she was with Gunter, but she spent her time in the dressing room and he in the bedroom, so it was a brief respite each day from their attention. She couldn't complain much about that part of the arrangement - she had spent many hours napping near her Father on one of the couches in the room before the siege, and it proved a suitable enough bed for her now.
She'd not seen him outside a few minutes in the mornings and evenings. It seemed he was now responsible for much the same things as her Father, the King, had been during his days. Some kings were more diligent than others, but Sasha had always had the impression that Father worked hard for the people, and she often watched as he spent long hours hearing out the people's needs and grievences. Add to that managing a war, and it was a wonder the Lord-Governor found time to sleep at all.
Finishing her book, she closes it with a sigh and goes back to the shelf to replace it and select another. Reading wasn't her favorite activity in the world, but without any of her friends or maids around, it was the best she had available. However, her ears twitch as she catches an odd noise from across the room. Poking her head around the corner of one of the shelves, she sees the wolf guard next to the door of the room, sitting in a chair... and dozing off.
This was the first time she had seen such a lapse from one of her captors. Silently padding across the carpeted floor, she approaches the door, watching the guard carefully. She knew she was likely to get caught, and get in trouble for this... but still, this was an opportunity she couldn't pass up. Ever so slowly, she turns the handle and pulls the door open. Her heart is in her throat as it opens, worried that it would make a noise, but the building had been well maintained, and the hinges were still well oiled. Letting out a breath, she slips out the door into the hallway and closes the door behind.
The question, now, was where to go. She knew there was no hope of escaping the castle itself - there were simply too many wolves around. For that matter, it was unlikely she'd be able to leave the apartments. There was only one primary entrance, and while the servants had their own ways in and out, she was unfamiliar with them. So this little act of rebellion was ultimately pointless, just an afternoon spent doing by herself the same things she could have been doing with the guard watching. Still, the freedom was a welcome change. She simply starts walking down the hallway toward her former room. Perhaps she could find some things in there to bring back to where she was now staying.
She soon hears yelling. Initially, she thinks the guard has woken and has sounded an alarm... but it's from the wrong direction, in front rather than behind. That, and the voice... Gunter? Swiveling her ears, she realizes it's coming from a room her Father had used as an office. Unable to restrain her curiosity, she steps forward and holds her ear to the door.
"...ut sir, why? They're just foxes. Slaves. Who cares if a few of them starve in the camps? It'll just be the weak ones that aren't worth anything for labor anyway."
"My orders are final, Captain. You are not the Governor here, I am, and it is my decision how to handle the occupation. Rations will be as I wrote in the report. Lodging as well. I know we act on the King's will, but we need not be savages about it."
There's a moments pause in the conversation before the unknown voice continues. "Yes, sir, your orders will be followed out as detailed. But... permission to speak freely, sir?"
"I haven't seen a need for permission stop you so far, but yes. If there's something you need to say, then out with it."
"The men are... talking. After the battle, you were everyone's hero, but since then... well, a lot of people are calling you a fox lover. Saying that you're being too soft, saying... well, that you're acting against the King's will, that he wants the foxes and all the others to be punished. The conditions in the prisoner camp are going to be a lot better than the soldiers had during the harder months of the campaign, and it's going to hit morale. And... well, even more than that, I think there have been messages going out. I think some of the other officers are already trying to use this to undermine you within the court."
"That will be my problem to worry about. For now, just get things moving. You're dismissed, Captain."
"Yes, sir!"
Sasha hears footsteps approaching the door and quickly ducks away, hiding behind a large pot as the door opens and a tall young black wolf wearing the regalia of a junior officer steps out and turns away from her, striding quickly down the hall with a bundle of documents under his arm.
She waits several more seconds, but not hearing anyone else moving, she stands and begins moving back toward the library, her nerves too frazzled to keep up this game. She hears a voice clearly call out, "Who's out there?" That's when she realizes that the door had been opened, but not closed - Gunter had heard her moving. There isn't any place to hide from someone actively searching, so resigned to being caught, she turns around and steps into the room. "Sasha? What are you doing out there? Where's your guard?"
"He fell asleep. I thought I'd spend an afternoon to myself in my room, but I heard you yelling." Hear ears droop and her frame sinks down. "I... was kind of eavesdropping. Are you... trying to protect the foxes?"
He pinches the bridge of his nose with one hand. He looks distinctly uncomfortable; however, it doesn't look like it's all the question - as part of his new role, his advisors had him dressing in a matter they called more befitting a governor, with less of his familiar armor and more long coats and silk cravats. "Close the door." She complied, and then he waved her over next to his desk before continuing in a low tone. "I told you the other night that things were complicated. You asked why I led the army, attacked your people? I'm sure you've heard of some of the things that have been happening, but have you heard about the other nations being invaded? It's worse. Some of them, much worse. I took this job because I knew it was going to happen, whether I did it or not... and perhaps I could at least make things, if not good, at least less bad. That's what I wanted to tell you the other night, although I can't blame you for your reaction. No matter what reason I give it, I have done some reprehensible things."
Sasha spends a few seconds standing and blinking, taking in the situation. Finally she kneels down next to his chair and grabs his hand. "I'm sorry for reacting the way I did. You're just trying to do what you can, and here I go and heap scorn on you. Is... there anything I can do to help?"
He smiles at her, but shakes his head. "Just stay safe, little vixen. Your father may be dead, but I intend to do what I can to protect you in his memory. On that note, it will be trouble if your guard realizes you've slipped his net. You'd best get back. Give it another week or two - when they see you're not a threat, I'll be able to get them to back off, give you a bit more space... but if they catch you slipping out, that won't work out."
She squeezes his hand and gives the old wolf a nod and a smile. "I'll be good... Uncle."
The bed sags as Gunter settles back, tossing his long coat carelessly to the floor. The steward would have a fit that it was wrinkled, but the Lord-Governor really didn't care at this point, he was tired and rather hated that garment in particular at the moment, so it could burn for all he cared.
If there is one word you could use to describe the military occupation of a major nation, easy would most certainly not be it. Since taking up the post, the days had quite possibly been longer than those spent on the march, and the mental work of politics and governance was every bit as taxing as the physical effort had been in the military, even if it was in different ways.
At least Sasha had been warming up to him in the weeks since she had overheard him. She still didn't seem entirely at ease with his presence, but they had taken to eating their meals together, as he told her stories about her family from before her birth. He wasn't sure what would happen in the end, it's not like he had any particular idea how to provide meaning for her life beyond simply keeping her alive, but at least the situation might remain more tolerable for both if they were able to be friendly with one another.
Shrugging off the rest of his outfit, he climbs into the bed and settles in to try and sleep. It had been a problem since assuming the governorship - he was tired, but his body still craved physical activity, so he had been restless and slept poorly. As a result, he is still very much awake several minutes later when he hears a click and the sound of footsteps enter the room. He opens his eyes just a crack, but it's enough to see the silhouette of Sasha in the moonlight, a thin silk nightgown draped over her form, as she walks over to the bed and carefully climbs on.
"What are you doing, Sasha?"
Undeterred, she climbs across the bed to rest face to face with the big wolf, just inches from him. "You've not been sleeping well, Uncle. I can hear you tossing and turning, even from the other room. I thought, maybe... the warmth of someone's touch might help?" With that, she rolls to her other side and closes the remaining gap, pressing her back into his chest. "I've not been sleeping well either, it would certainly help me."
"Sasha, this is a dangerous game you're playing." Still, he finds his arm subconsciously wrapping around her waist and pulling her close. The feeling is almost too familiar. "I'm... not sure I'll be able to, well, stay a gentleman with you this close. You look so much like your aunt did when I first met her..." The wolf draws in a deep breath, taking in the scent of the young vixen. It is unmistakably her own, but he still recognizes many familiar overtones, traces of what he had smelled from his wife so many times before. Memories of their times together begin flooding back, and he feels himself start to harden.
"I may have spent my life here in the castle, but I'm not so naive as to be unaware of the effect of a woman on a man." The vixen starts grinding back against the wolf, obviously having noticed his erection beginning to press againt her rear. "Uncle, I've been thinking. They say you aren't married, that you never took a second wife. I'm never going to find a match now, as a prisoner. But maybe we can be together? What's wrong with two broken people finding solace in one another?"
He groans as he feels her hand slip between their bodies and her delicate fingers brush over his sheath, coaxing his red spire to emerge. "Sasha, are... you sure you want to do this? Really sure? Because if we go any farther, it's been so long that I don't think I'll be able to stop myself."
She turns to look over her shoulder, and rather than answering with words, she answers by planting her lips against the end of his muzzle. The flood gates opened, he meets her kiss with a furious passion, sliding his hand up to cup her head and pulling her close, mouth opening to kiss her deeply, tongue dancing over tongue and teeth. Sasha is a bit more hesitant, unsure in her inexperience, but does her best to keep up with the wolf's ardor, her tongue following after his, her eyes shut as she revels in the feeling of closeness.
Finally, even the two enamored canids needed to come up for breath. Sasha gasps in air as she turns to face forward again on the bed, much less accustomed to the sort of physical activities that would strengthen the lungs; Gunter's hand slides down the side of her head, his thumb playing over the tuft of fur on her cheek as he brings his muzzle down and gives her a lick between the ears. "Little vixen, I think you're over-dressed."
She smiles, nuzzling into his hand; however, there's little she can do to correct the situation pulled tight against her Uncle's chest, so she reluctantly pulls away and sits up, grabbing the neck of the night gown and pulling it up and over her head before discarding it on the floor. She feels him shift behind her, and as the gown goes up, his hands go to her sides, digging deep into the fur and trailing up with the hem of the garment.
As he sits up behind her, he pulls her tight again; she can feel his full length press against her back, and gives a shudder as she realizes just how deep he will reach within the confines of her body. She gives another shudder as his hands wrap around to her chest, toying through the white belly fur covering her C-cup breasts before finding her rapidly hardening nipples and starting to tweak them. "Sasha, before we go any farther, I must ask - is this your first time?"
Between gasps, she nods, faintly uttering a sound that was probably a 'yes', before it was cut off by a low moan. She has the sensation of his breath on one of her ears, shortly before she feels his teeth grab the black tip and give it a little nibble.
As the love bite distracts her, he releases her right breast and snakes the hand down her white fur, before coming to rest over her slit. With two fingers, he parts the thinly furred folds of her labia; with a third, he gently begins teasing at her entrance. She tries to press forward against his finger tip, but Gunter does not intend to give this to her yet; he presses his palm back and easily holds her, his large and heavily muscled form not even slightly taxed at keeping the wiggling vixen in place.
Her continues teasing her like this for several minutes, working the fox into a squirming, whining frenzy. As he works over her entrance, he feels it start to relax and, more importantly, grow wet with her lubrication. He makes sure to leave no fold untouched as he plays with her pussy, leaving her entire crotch slick and wet.
"Little Sasha, I think you're ready. Get on you hands and knees - there's a tradition about how a man and woman are supposed to have their first time together." She whimpers as he withdraws his hand, but eagerly follows his order, getting in position in the middle of the bed. She looks back at him with unbridled lust as her tail flags high, beckoning him to take her as quickly as possible, her mouth nearly starting to drool in her lust-addled state as she catches sight all ten inches of blood red canine endowment.
She isn't able to look at him for long. Gunter is no less worked up than his Princess, and immediately shifts into place on his knees behind her, one hand going to her hips and the other grasping his shaft to assure his aim. "A maiden's first time will hurt, at least in the beginning. But I promise you it will be worth it, little vixen."
Gunter begins pushing forward, getting just the first half inch of his shaft to settle into the nook of her entrance, before moving his guiding hand to grab her other hip. Then, rather than draw things out, he gives the fox a full thrust, burying himself two thirds of the way to the root in one motion. Sasha cries out, not only losing her maidenhood, but her tunnel having been forced open to take the wolf's endowment, much larger than anything the fox was born to accommodate.
Every instinct calls out for him to ignore her pain, to thrust his lupine endowment forward and claim every inch of the bitch before him. Gritting his teeth, Gunter calls up every reserve of will he has to simply hold himself in place, giving the girl a chance to adjust to her fresh deflowerment and his excessive girth. Reaching forward, he starts combing the claws of one hand through the brilliant red fur of her back, gently grooming her, listening as her tears slowly fade to choked sighs, then to steady breathing.
"Is it feeling better, Sasha? Is the pain going away?"
"It's... so big, I didn't realize they could be this big. But the pain is mostly gone. I feel so full, but the fullness feels right, it feels more important than the pain."
"That's good, little vixen. That means your body has grown ready. I'm going to start again."
He pulls back, but she's tight enough that she just pulls back with him; he again grasps her hips with both hands and holds her in position as he applies more force, gently pulling out of the furnace of her insides. He can smell fresh blood, his shaft coated by the breaking of her maidenhead. He continues until there's no more than an inch left inside, then braces her hips and thrusts forward again, getting another inch deeper. This time proves much easier, her tunnel more accustomed to his size and the blood providing a bit more lubrication.
This time, when Sasha cries out, it carries an obvious tone of pleasure. Encouraged by these sounds, the wolf starts pistoning himself into his niece's confines, each thrust carrying him just a bit deeper than the last. She is unable to hold back against the lupine might on top of her, and her hands slip out from beneath her, dropping her chest to the bed; however, this merely encourages Gunter, giving him even better leverage press himself deeper.
After a couple of minutes of relentless assault, Gunter finally finds his hips meeting hers, every inch of his shaft and knot lodged within. Sasha is well past holding herself up now, her legs limp but her body held up by the Wolf's hands and rod. He had been hoping to keep this going longer, but his knot starts swelling; he thrusts one more time, then two, before he knows that if he pulls out again, he's not getting back in.
This is it - time to complete their bonding, the first coupling between mates. Gunter leans down over her back and grasps the scruff of her neck in his jaws, giving her a bite nearly hard enough to break the skin. He feels her clamp down, and that's all he can take. With a feral growl, his balls pull tight as he begins pumping ropes of seed straight into her womb. She gives a keening wail as she feels the wet heat fill her depths, every muscle in her body seeming to clamp down at once as she experiences her first orgasm with another person.
They remain in that position for over a minute, Gunter wrapping one arm beneath her chest to support her, as Sasha struggles just to retain a bit of focus through the waves of pleasure coursing through her body. His shaft and baseball sized knot seem to touch every nerve within her tunnel, and she can feel each heartbeat as she feels him breathing on the scruff of her neck. She finally reaches her limit; her eyes roll back and her lids shut, the sensations too much to process as she falls unconscious.
Gunter gives a little chuckle as he feels her fall limp in his arms. It seems the little vixen is more like her aunt than he had realized - he had found himself in this position many nights before, as his insatiable wife refused to let him sleep until he'd fucked her senseless. Gently, he pulls her with him as he lays down on his side, pulling her body against his chest in another tight embrace, his shaft now destined to keep them locked together for at least another thirty minutes, assuming she stopped twitching.
He cradles her head with one hand as the other combs through the fur of her belly. He had taken her in only to protect her, but still, it feels like all is right in the world as he holds his niece in his arms. As he listens to her breathing, feeling the occasional quiver along his shaft, he drifts off to the deepest and most restful sleep he had felt in years.