Padraig + Charity: The Wedding

Part 1


Padraig yawned, and tried to stretch out aching muscles. Grogginess gave way to frustration as he realized that he could not move his arms. Looking down, he found that his wrists were secured to the rails of a chain link fence. Panic set in as he realized that he was in his breed form, and exposed to the world in Crinos shape. Looking around he saw nothing but trees, and reasoned that for the moment he was safe. Changing forms, he took the shape of the red fox-like wolf that was his lupus body. In this shape, he easily slipped his paws out of the zip-ties that had held him in place.

Padraig looked around him more fully now, trying to recall the events of the night before. He vaguely recalled a fire, and lots of men gathered around him. He had a splitting headache, but otherwise seemed whole. What the hell had happened to him? Bending his nose to the ground Padraig scented around the clearing and the fence to which he had been tied. He could pick up only faint traces of achingly familiar smells, too diluted by the morning dew to help him identify their owners. Shrugging, he set off into the woods, deciding to try and find a road that would take him home. Charity would be worried sick about him. There weren’t many nights that he stayed out late these days.

*****

“Okay, where the fuck is he?” Mercer demanded of his companions as they looked at the zip ties still fastened to the fence. The black plastic rings stared back at ‘Fells The Angels’, Oz, ‘Guides The Cycle’, Snow and ‘Talking Crazy’ accusingly.

Guides and Talking Crazy cocked their heads to the side, looking at Bobby Mercer quizzically.

“I still do not understand this custom.” Talking Crazy said. “What was the reason for getting my pack mate drunk and tying him to a fence on the night before his wedding?”

OZ chuckled at the lupus. “Old Fianna tradition.” He said simply. Oz was not one to use more words than were needed. “We call it a Stag.”

Snow groaned at that.

Guides eyes brightened. The lupus was on firmer ground now, he thought. “So this is a rite, yes? A ritual to Stag?”

Mercer smiled, a clove cigarette dangling between his teeth. “Sorta’ like that, yeah.” He said. “Padraig was wasted last night. Let’s see if we can find our boy before he gets too far. He’s got a lot left to do today, and we have t’keep him away from the blushing bride.”

“Why does Charity blush?” Guides asked.

“Never mind.” Snow said. “Just see if you can find him Guides.”

The lupus born Garou picked up Padraig’s scent easily, and the five Garou set off into the woods after him.

*****

“Show me the way to go home…” Padraig sang as he approached the road he had found beyond the trees. He was in Homid form once more. He’d come across a farm house after twenty minutes of travel, and despite the lateness of the season, had managed to snag some clothes from a washing line, and a pair of boots from outside their back door. The house had been empty, so he hadn’t bothered to check where he was there.

The road he now stood beside looked like any other rural route. He looked one way and then the next, but saw no signs of traffic in either direction. Where the hell was he? Picking a direction by simply going the way he was pointed in, he started walking along the road, hoping he would be able to thumb a lift from some passing motorist, or at least glean a location and directions from them. Padraig was used to walking. In the days before he had met Charity, he had walked everywhere. Once, he had walked across the length of a continent and halfway over another. So a journey of a few miles to whatever town lay over the next horizon was nothing to the long legged Fianna.

Padraig was certain that there was something important he was forgetting about today, but for the life of him, he could not remember what it was. He’d suffered enough hangovers in his life to recognize the signs of the one he was laboring under at the moment. It was not like him to get so deep in his cups that he was sick the next morning. Yet another puzzle to add to the several he had already encountered today.

*****

“Excuse me Ma’am,” Snow called to the woman who stood staring at her washing line with an irritated expression on her face. “Did you happen to see a friend of ours come by here? He may have been a little uh….underdressed.”

The woman gave a snort. “Not anymore.” She told him angrily. “Someone’s stolen my husband’s clothes, and I get the feeling it was this friend of yours. Who’s going to pay for what he took, that’s what I want to know.”

Mercer sighed, and pulled some cash from his wallet. “So you didn’t see him?” he asked.

The woman took the money he offered greedily, and tucked it into the pocket of her dress. “No, I didn’t.” she replied, but the road into town is about a mile off that way.” She pointed in a vaguely eastern direction. “No doubt he’s reached it by now. If you hurry, you can pick him up.”

The five Garou exchanged glances, and set off in the direction he pointed. They soon came to the road, and Guides nodded as he sniffed the ground. “He came this way,” The lupus told them. “And continued off down the road that way.”

Mercer looked in the direction that Guides had showed him. “But that takes him away from the farm, not to it!” he stated. “What’s going through his mind?”

“About two gallons of spirit awakened moonshine, I think.” Snow mumbled conspiratorially, bumping knuckles with Oz.

*****

The station wagon pulled up by the side of the road, and Padraig ambled over to it, his hands in his pockets. He’d made himself a hat using corn leaves he’d pulled from corn stalks that had been left to go to seed, and the brown husks covered his abnormal ears nicely.

“You lost buddy?” the man in the station wagon asked, peering out of his rolled down window.

Padraig nodded. “Kinda.” He replied, dropping his Irish accent in favor of a perfect Wisconsin one. “I think I had a bit too much to drink last night. I found myself in the middle of a field. Can you help me out?”

The guy laughed. “I’ve had nights like that.” He replied. “Where are you trying to get to?”

“I’m about twenty five miles east of the Saint Croix on I94”

The man laughed again. “Boy, that must have been some wild night my friend.” He told him. “You’re about two miles out from Rib Lake, and pointed in the wrong direction. You’re about a hundred miles and change away from where you need to be.”

Padraig nodded. “Well thanks friend.” He replied. “You’re going in the wrong direction for me then I guess. I’ll keep on walking, I’m sure someone will be by shortly.”

The man in the station wagon nodded. “All right then. You have a good day now, and stay away from the bottle for a while, y’hear.”

“Good advice.” Padraig agreed, and waved him off.

*****

Bobby Mercer sat at the wheel of his truck, Oz at his side, and Snow, along with the two lupus Garou, Guides the Cycle and Talking Crazy riding in the back. As they crested the hill in front of them, Bobby gave a shout of success. “There he is!” he said, rapping his knuckle on the window that separated the cab from the pickups tailgate.

He pulled up the truck next to Padraig and the Metis grinned to see them. “What’re you lot doing out here?” he asked.

“Looking for you, ye daft bastard.” Oz replied. “You do realize that the wedding is in five hours, don’t you?”

Padraig cocked his head to one side. “Wedding?” he asked quizzically. “Who’s getting married?”

Bobby and Oz exchanged looks, and Mercer rolled his eyes. “Geez Oz, what’d you put in that brew?” he asked. “Grab him. We’ll sort this out when we get him back to the farm.

*****


“What do you mean he doesn’t remember that he’s getting married today?” Charity demanded, knocking away Brianna’s hand. The Glass Walker kinfolk sighed, pulling a handful of bobby pins from her lips and frowned at Charity, who was now standing toe to toe with Mercer in her underclothes, strands of un-coiffured hair falling to her shoulders.

“He doesn’t remember.” Mercer repeated. “We think it was something in the brew we gave him last night.”

“You got him drunk?” she demanded, pursing her lips in irritation. “Robert Mercer, you know full well how I feel about Padraig drinking!”

Mercer shook his head sadly, wishing he were anywhere else but here at this moment. Right now, he would gladly take on a thousand leeches than deal with one pissed off kinfolk. “It was his Stag Charity. We couldn’t let him get married without a send off.”

“And a fine send off you gave him from the sounds of it. Leaving him tied to a fence, so drunk out of his wits that he doesn’t remember his own wedding.” She raised herself on her tiptoes so that she was eye to eye with Mercer. “You’ll sort out this mess Robert.” She told him, “Naughty little children get what they deserve. If Padraig isn’t standing at the alter at five o’clock with his memory intact, I’ll take Oath-binder from you and spank you with it until you’re raw. And then I’ll get to work on all the other little boys that were responsible. Are we understood?”

Mercer blinked in surprise. “Yes Ma’am.” He replied meekly, not doubting for a moment that she would do what she said.