Genre: AU, Fantasy/Drama/Romance

Pairings: 1x2, others

Disclaimer: Don't own nothin' but these words

Warnings: Yaoi, lemon, language (the usual), peril, violence, animal shamans, neko Duo, king Heero, impending war, sentient-formless evil

A/N: Yayy! New GW fic. I decided to do a furry fic without all that angsty stuff that can usually be found in these types of stories (like slavery, NCS, abuse, yada yada, yuck!). This is plot-driven, not angst-driven. Perhaps you've noticed by now that I DON'T like angst! Drama, yes. Angst, NO. Anyway, enjoy!

Kal'an paced restlessly. The aging Earth Shaman could not put recent worries out of her head. Her daughter, Tor'ai, watched her with something bordering on concern. She understood. Her restlessness lately was poor timing.

"Mother," the younger Shaman finally said. Almost pleaded.

Kal'an stopped and looked at her. "I've been thinking about what the songbirds told us," she said, sighing and sitting on a mossy-covered rock outside her family's cave lair. "About the human country Cairon."

"Oh," Tor'ai said, frowning. "You shouldn't think about that, Mother."

"I'm the eldest," the Shaman said. "It's my responsibility."

"What, exactly, have you been thinking about?" her daughter asked.

For some reason, hearing that question finally made up Kal'an's mind. "I'll tell the Shaman Council," she said, nodding. "Would you send out messages that I would like to meet with them all tonight?"

"Of course," her daughter acquiesced at once, though she did still sound concerned.

Kal'an watched her daughter transform and fly out. Tor'ai was a falcon, a Shaman of the Stars. Eons ago, Shamans had discovered humans living in small, isolated villages together, primitive and without the magic that thrived so strongly in the Shamans. The Shamans felt sorry for them, for there was a strong evil in this world, an evil that plagued all life every so often. They made a promise to protect the humans from this terrible evil.

Within a few decades the humans began to grow and thrive. Without the constant threat looming over their heads, they were able to expand their villages into little towns. Then big towns and eventually cities. They organized governments and territories, and the Shamans met with them again.

This time a bargain was struck. The humans would never over-hunt the mountains where the Shamans lived, never try to expand beyond the territories marked out, never try to hunt the Shamans or persecute them. The Shamans agreed they would watch over Lesser animals, making sure they never killed human flocks and herds. They protected them from the evil that constantly tried to gain a foothold in the world.

But those promises were made a long, long time ago. Human memories were short. For all Kal'an knew, Shamans may be legend now and little else. The human countries were growing larger all the time, and it wouldn't be long before they reached the mountains that walled off the Shaman territories, a border agreed upon nearly two-thousand years ago.

Cairon was the most distressing human country. The Shamans had heard rumors from the songbirds, whispers that the young human king planned to unite all the countries in one huge Empire. If that happened, would he expand beyond the current borders? Would he be content with his enormous empire? He had a reputation for being a fearsome warrior, unyielding and strong-willed.

Kal'an did have an idea, but it was an extremely risky one. She didn't know how the Shaman Council would receive it. Even so, she had to try. As the Eldest, it was her responsibility to meet dangers head-on. After all, the Shamans had been fighting evil for millennia.

-

"Tor'ai has told us you have been worrying over the humans," Yan'ae said. A Fire Shaman, she was a bright red fox when transformed. She was exactly like her element: fiery-tempered, fleeting, and hot-headed. She was among the youngest on the Council, but her keen mind was very useful in dangerous situations.

"Yes," Kal'an said, nodding. Herself, she was a falcon like her daughter. "I have worried about it for several years now, ever since the young human became king of Cairon."

"It is understandable," Yan'ae said, frowning a little. "He has shown far more aggression than any of his predecessors."

"It may be safe to assume the ancient oaths have been forgotten," Kal'an said. "After a long and somewhat painful deliberation, I believe one of us should go to Cairon and speak with the young king."

Her words were met with a buzz of distressed chatter. As she'd expected.

"And who among us would go?" Yan'ae demanded.

"That is extremely dangerous," a River Shaman named Ver'aj said right on top of her. "Humans probably no longer know we exist!"

"I would go, of course," Kal'an said quickly, interjecting. "I would ask no other. Humans have no magic, remember? It would be difficult for them to detain me if they so decided."

"Ver'aj is right, though, Mother," Tor'ai said quietly. "Humans have grown very confident and unpredictable in the last centuries."

"As true as that may be," Kal'an said, shaking her head, "I believe this is the right course. This young king is the one we need to reach, as he is the most dangerous. If he could be reminded that we are thinking, feeling beings, perhaps conflict between us can be avoided."

"And why should we be the ones who continuously make such efforts?" Yan'ae demanded. "We have been protecting them from evil for as long as they have existed!"

"If it is war they wished," Ver'aj agreed, "they would be no match for us!"

"Win though we might," Rai'ak, a Shadow Shaman, said quietly, "there numbers are many. Casualties would be great on both sides."

"Humans can be just as stubborn as us," Tor'ai agreed. "Who knows where it would end? With their destruction? With ours?"

"It can't hurt to talk to them," Kal'an jumped in again. "I do have an idea on how to make this young king more sympathetic to our plight."

"Oh?" Yan'ae said, and all attention was once more on the Earth Shaman.

Kal'an took a deep breath. This was the part they would like the least. But the most important part. "Yes. We could take to him one of our young to raise."

For several heartbeats dead silence reigned as the Council looked at her in shock. Then they erupted with objections.

"One of our own?"

"And what mother would consent to giving up her child?"

"Who is to say they would be raised with the love they need?"

"Why should we make such great sacrifices for them?"

"Would a human agree to something such as this?"

"This is not an easy choice, but perhaps it is the right one."

Kal'an shook her head. "No path will be easy," she said, "but they have not exactly broken any vows. Nor should we."

"Be that as it may," Yan'ae said, looking very unhappy, "who would agree to part with her child?"

A moment of silence, then a soft voice spoke up. "I will."

All eyes turned to her. She was Shai'a, a Rain Shaman. A leopard, she was notoriously quiet and shy, but that was hardly what made them stare. Her child, as yet unborn and still growing in her swollen belly, was special. For generations her family had been trying to have a Storm Shaman, a gift extremely rare now. Her lifemate was a Wind Shaman, and her parents were between them a Lightning Shaman and a Thunder Shaman. The chances of this one being a Storm Shaman were extremely high.

"Shai'a . . ." Kal'an said quietly, unsure what to say.

"My child will be born in only a few days, I am sure," Shai'a said softly. "If the human king agrees, it will be the perfect timing. Go to him soon, Kal'an."

"But this is your first child!" Yan'ae protested.

"I know, but I agree that this path is the right one," the Rain Shaman said. "Kal'an, if he agrees, you may bring my child to him."

The Earth Shaman nodded. "Very well. I will go to Cairon on the morrow. Thank you Shai'a. All of you."

With the departure of the Council, Kal'an felt a heavy burden lift off her chest. She prayed this human king would be fair-minded despite his fearsome reputation. Everything hinged on it.