Private Tales Ash and Iron

[Lorcán]

His smile faltered as she seemed to speak without moving her lips, and he realised that she had not spoken at all. He stared at her in wonder, his gaze drifting over her tattoos and the stars in them, his mouth gaping once again as he blinked distantly.

Her question dragged him back into the room and his eyes returned to meet hers with a laugh under his breath. "Never felt better.." he answered her, his eyes creasing in a smile. He had the most painful urge to kiss her, and he wasn't entirely sure where it'd come from. He didn't want to let her go, like his body had the physical need to have her as close to him as possible. Even the scent of her was heady.

"Come on. Lets get you back to bed.." he rumbled as he slipped his arms underneath her and pulled her against his chest as he got to his feet. "Whatever you did.." he said as he carried her to the room she'd been asleep in. "It saved my life." he frowned gently, his words weighty. It meant that he was in her debt, and there was no greater debt that he could owe than his life.

He set her down on the bed and reached to pull her blankets over her, and sat himself on the edge of the mattress, his hand gingerly resting over her chest, hoping to ease her pain.

 

[Maeve]

How? Her eyes flickered to the swirls on his chest and torso. There was no sign of the black tendrils that had been killing him only minutes before. But what had she done?

"Hey! Excuse me--!"

Being picked up was enough to snap her from her dazed state. She wasn't an invalid that needed to be molly coddled or put onto best rest. Sure, she might have felt exhausted but she was perfectly capable of using her own two feet. At least, she thought so. To prove her point she fixed him with her best glare as he put her to bed.

Am I five? Is he going to start singing lullabies to me now?

"You don't owe me anything Lòrcan, I don't even know what I did I just remember stars..."

 

[Lorcán]

He couldn't help but laugh at her grin. He remember how weak she'd been after imprinting her handprint on his chest, and what she'd just done had required far more power.

He was silent for a moment as he outright stared at her. "It frees you, from any deals made on your behalf, any deals you made with me." She could tell him to leave now and never return and he'd have no choice, and yet the thought of it cracked something in his chest.

"I... I'm not quite sure either, but I'll be forever grateful, for you and your stars." he smiled and rubbed at his chest. "Get some rest." he smiled at her and got to his feet.

"And.. I'm not so great at lullabies.."

 

[Maeve]

Maeve stared at him.

Did he just...?

He had said he wouldn't enter her mind so how had he...? Fighting through the fog in her mind she tried to remember the shielding he had shown her on their first night. Instead what she discovered was a star-studded, shimmering thread that ran from her mind to a door at the other end. It looked like a bridge made up of the night sky. It was from the other side that she felt the pain at the thought of leaving.

"Stay," she blurted out and then cleared her throat. "I mean... if you insist on me resting in bed you can at least stay and keep me company. I think Viv's painting equipment is in there," she nodded to the wardrobe that dominated one end of the room.

 

[Lorcán]

He felt the demand, as well as heard it. It echoed in his mind and through his very bones as it became a compulsion, as though to leave this room would be to tear himself in two. His heart stuttered at the very fact that she wanted him to stay, that she asked for his company at all. She was free of whatever deal had bound her to him these past three days, the inky feather on her skin was gone, and still...

Stay.

He only dragged his eyes from her to look at the wardrobe she nodded toward, feeling a tension seep into his muscles at the thought of painting again, the memories of what had once been stunning portraits of his former love draped in silk, that instead showed her as she looked in death and the silk stained with blood. His father really was an evil bastard..

He dropped into the chair that sat in the corner and dragged his hand down his face. Even where he sat he was too far away from her, as though there were some thread tied to his sternum, now drawn uncomfortably taught.

'What did she do?...'

Lòrcan tried to make sense of it. That feeling, that he no longer felt lost, but bound to this life, to her. Her mind was open to him, somehow, but he assumed it a one way street. He had long, long ago perfected his ability to keep prying fae from his thoughts and emotions.

"I'll be right here.." he assured her, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees, his fingers lacing together as he regarded her with dark, golden eyes.

 

[Maeve]

I don't know...

The thought shot down that path before she could stop it like an arrow. She hesitated, unsure whether she should acknowledge the conversation they were having on an entirely different level, before shaking her head and trying to clamber out of the bed. She couldn't just sit here with him staring at her with those golden eyes. She most certainly couldn't sleep even if her body was crying for it.

"If you won't paint I will," Maeve willed her legs to work for the short journey past him to the wardrobe. Inside was an assortment of gear from fishing and hunting equipment to painting tools and carpentry. Viv had a tendency to pick up a hobby and drop it after the initial excitement ran out. Instead of picking the canvas out though she just bundled the art supplies into her arms and tottered over to a wall where she promptly sat down on the floor. Her breathing was heavy like she had run a mile but there was a victorious gleam to her eyes.

"I've always hated the colour of this room," the mouldy pink made her want to vomit. She selected a yellow and began mixing it up.

 

[Lorcán]

Lòrcan couldn't acknowledge it. He knew, but he couldn't bring himself to say it. He couldn't bear the thought of her freaking out at him like that again.. If she'd felt trapped by her parents' deal, by the fact that it had been his soul keeping her alive, then he dreaded to think how she'd deal with this. He didn't even know how he would deal with this. His mind was reeling, and though he refrained from putting those thoughts into any sort of internal dialogue, his emotions were chaotic.

He watched her get out of bed, biting back the protest that had been about to leap from his tongue, and he simply watched her, listening for her thoughts. He had promised not to go diving into her mind, and he hadn't, but this was different. He couldn't exactly help this.

She should have looked, weary. Instead she looked... Vibrant. He wasn't entirely certain if his eyes were still not quite right, but her hair was an even more vivid shade of crimson and her eyes like crystalline water. Even her skin had some new glow, and he studied the little specks of stars that now peppered it. She had always been beautiful, but he had never thought it more than he did right now.

He sighed quietly and slid onto the floor to sit next to her, silently reaching for a paintbrush and picking some of his own colours, offering her a gentle smile as he wordlessly began.

 

[Maeve]

Maeve only glanced at him the once to make sure he was painting. She gave a nod of satisfaction and went back to her own work.

She was no brilliant painter. Viv hadn't been either which she supposed was the main reason for the unused state of the majority of the art supplies. She had no idea what half of them did so stuck with the simple brush and primary colours to help her create the poor imitation of flowers under a setting sun she had set her mind too.

She wasn't sure how long they were painting for when she finally admitted defeat. Her eyes kept closing and her strokes were too heavy. With a yawn she set the brush down and rubbed at her eyes, smearing flecks of yellow and red across her cheeks in the process.

"Wow," she breathed when she finally looked across at his.

 

[Lorcán]

Lòrcan got himself entirely lost in the paint. Perhaps it was that he'd believed he wouldn't live to lift a paintbrush again, that he wouldn't live to see her, to fly, to see stars. But he painted all of those things. He painted her with her black feather in her crimson hair, smiling as she smelled the flowers he'd picked her, and a set of white feathered wings spread from her back as she flew beside him through the night sky, the mountains and lake below, with the little cabin sitting peacefully.

He set down the brush as she spoke, and looked at her work with a warm smile, and then he chuckled quietly as he looked at her paint streaked face despite the myriad of colours flecked across his. He reached out his hand to drag his thumb across a smudge of yellow. "Thank you.." he rumbled quietly, though he meant more than for her admiration of his work. It was for making him paint, for not running from him or making him leave the moment she could..and for that little piece of her soul that he felt within him like a kernel of starlight that brought him back from death.

"You should get some rest.." he smiled at her, a steaming cup of honeyed tea already waiting beside the bed for her. He sighed at that, the first grain of magic he'd used without the punishment of pain.

 

[Maeve]

Her eyes closed briefly as his thumb dragged across her cheek. There was something different there, a feeling and a sensation that hadn't been there before this morning. The only way she could describe it was that it felt like home. A feeling she'd been missing. A soft sigh left her and with effort she opened her eyes to meet his golden gaze.

"I suppose," her body cried in victory as she began to drag herself to her feet. The scent of tea was enough to get her there and she crawled into the sheets before picking it up and cradling it to her chest. "Can I ask... why did you stop painting?" She'd felt how happy it had made him, she couldn't imagine giving up something that brought her joy.

 

[Lorcán]

It was like his awareness of her emotions were far more finely tuned, he felt it all as though it were his own. He let out a sigh of his own as those pools of pure emerald threatened to drag him under and drown him, his hand rubbing at his face as she got up and climbed into bed.

Lorcan groaned at the stiffness in his muscles as he got to his feet too, realising how long they must have sat there. He couldn’t help but tense as she asked such an innocent question. He knew she’d feel it, and if he’d thought better of it he’d have been ready with an easy smile and some way of avoiding the question, but now it was obvious that the answer was difficult.

He flopped back into the armchair and huffed. “I lost someone that I cared about, and it broke me. I tried to paint again, some time after, a friend convinced me, thought it would make me feel better.” He laughed under his breath and pulled his fingers through his hair. “It didn’t. I just.. painted horrible things, and spiralled.. So one day I just burned it all. My paintings, all of it…My father grinned for an entire morning.”..

His Father… What the fuck would he do now? Where would he go? He’d think about it tomorrow. For now his mind and body were exhausted, and he didn’t want to waste another moments thought on him.

 

[Maeve]

"Oh."

Maeve's gaze softened.

"I'm sorry."

Grief wasn't something she had had to deal with really. Her grandparents had died when she was in her teens but that had been... expected. The old died and the young took over. It was a fact of life and, though it had been sad, when it had happened it had been a fact she had been able to accept. She had seen grief from afar though, when people had lost a loved one who they shouldn't have. Husbands losing their wives, mothers losing a child. She could understand why it would hurt to do something that brought you joy when the sadness threatened to swallow you whole.

She took a sip of the tea and gave a content sigh, wriggling a little further under the covers.

"Well... what do you want to do? You could stay here. I have to go back to work soon but... I'd... visit..."

 

[Lorcán]

He offered a tight smile as she apologised and his head shook silently, his eyes dark and distant with memory.

Her question caused his brow to rise, his head bowed but he lifted his eyes to her, unsure whether she was reading his thoughts or if it'd been a natural question. The suggestion was bittersweet and he couldn't keep up with the rapid rush of emotions that rattled through his body one after another. Confusion; he didn't know the answer. Fear; he feared his father's wrath, and considered that a life here might be wise. Sadness; he would have to leave his brothers. Pain; the thought of her leaving him... Happiness; that she would visit.

"I don't know what to do." he admitted with a deep sigh and his head fell into his hands. If he could have built a home for the small number of those he cared about, he would have. Whilst his father was who he was, he'd never be safe, and nor would any he cared for. He would go back and find his brothers, he could seek sanctuary in the Summer Court. His throat ached at the thought as he looked back up at Maeve..

"I'll worry about it tomorrow.." he rumbled and settled back into the chair with a stifled yawn.

 

[Maeve]

Maeve gave a quiet hum of contentment as the last of the peach and honey tea slid down her throat. She had never tasted something that was so refreshing and yet so sleep inducing all at the same time. This time she didn't bother to stifle her yawn; he would know she wasn't yawning at their conversation. It was a truth she just... knew now. Maybe the last three days of getting to know him... saving him... had just made her relax into that little connection they had. It was the simplest and only explanation her sleep addled brain could come up with for how clear and easily she felt his emotions or heard his voice when she hadn't caught his lips moving.

Her eyes drooped and she stretched and yawned once more.

"Tomorrow," she agreed and finally settled down under the covers. "You should get some sleep too, gonna need all that energy to live now..." she teased as her eyes drifted shut again. Yellow paint smeared a little on the pillow as she rubbed her cheek against it to get comfy.

Do fae even sleep that much usually? Was he just sleeping because he was sick? He'll ache if he sleeps in that chair... maybe I should tell him about the other bed... Her chest ached at the thought of him not being where she could sense any change, just in case the poison came back.

A quiet huff.

"If you're planning to watch me sleep all night, the bed is comfier..."

 

[Lorcán]

He could feel her settling and it done absolutely everything to ease him. His body felt heavy and weak with exhaustion, and he continued to draw in deep, satisfyingly pain-free breaths, savouring the air, savouring the scents and taking none of it for granted. How could he ever repay her for what she'd given him?...How could he ever tell her what she'd given him?..

His gaze shifted back to her as she extended her invitation. It was the longest he'd ever hesitated in his life when invited into a female's bed, but this, this was different. His breath caught in his throat and his lips thinned as he let out a sigh.

"I can sleep here.." he answered quietly. "Sleep." he urged her with a weak smirk. The urge to accept was overwhelming. It was just sleep, but he knew how fragile he was, he knew it'd only make it more difficult for him to be away from her.

 

[Maeve]

"Suit yourself," she rolled onto her stomach and stretched out, piling pillows around her to form an odd nest of sorts. Her arm looped over one pillow and pulled it tight against her to cuddle. It was his own fault if he got sore sitting there, she told herself as her body began to relax and sleep called to her like a sirens song.

It wasn't long before soft snores came from the mound on the bed.

She stood in the Horse Plains. Tall grass waved in the slight breeze and sun baked down upon her skin in am oppressive manner. Before her the wild horses grazed though the Stallion kept a close eye on her as she approached. One horse peeled away from the herd and trotted towards her, calling in greeting. Her heart ached as she took a step forward to meet her. How long since she'd ridden for the joy of it? When the horse came to a stop by her side she wasted no time in clambering on and setting off at a gallop.

 

[Lorcán]

He was already regretting it as he shifted and shuffled to get comfortable. He considered going back to the couch, but the thought was a brief one. He wasn't leaving her, at least not tonight. His eyes grew heavier as he let them wander their paintings, a small smile tugging at his lips, and he slowly fell asleep to the sound of her breathing.

His dreams were never far from his mind, they seemed to wait there to pick up from where he left off the last time his eyes were closed, only to come rushing back to claim him again, his father a recurring theme. This time he was the one shooting at him with ash arrows as he fled the autumn court. He had sent the hunt out after him, his father leading high fae and hound out after him.

Lorcan fell, arrow piercing through his back, and he tumbled for what seemed like forever down into a valley, knocking the wind from his lungs as he landed. He could hear the hounds at the top, if they caught him they'd tear him limb from limb. He pulled himself to his feet and staggered and turned around. The light seemed to shift, as though the sunlight had just broken through a blanket of thick, dark storm cloud and shone only on the meadow in which he now stood.

Horses. That was new..

"Mae?" he frowned as he ambled toward her, watching the horse approach her and as she mounted the creature and took off through the tall grass. Lorcan's chest ached as he watched her go, and he turned to look back up the ridge to his father who stood glaring down at him, as though not daring to set foot out of the shadow into the vast pool of sunlight.

Slowly, Lorcan turned back and took off at a run, a grin splitting his face as his wings burst from his back and lifted him into the air. He followed Mae, swooping low and smirking at her as he flew at her side, his pain forgotten.

 

[Maeve]

The shadow of wings eclipsed the sun causing her to look up with a squint. Eagles were not uncommon on the plains, though rare, and she definitely hadn't ever seen a bird large enough to dwarf both her and Whisper in shadow. When she saw what - or rather, who - it was she blinked in confusion. That's new, she wondered quietly to herself. But then again she had been thinking of him as she had fallen asleep. Perhaps she had dreamt him into peace here. Shaking her head to clear the thoughts in case they woke her from the pleasant dream, instead she embraced it. There was a joy in watching him fly that was different to that which she had gotten from flying with him but didn't measure less. Instead she wondered what it would be like to fly with him.

No sooner had the thought left her than the dream shifted and changed. The horse beneath her vanished though flying with her own two wings felt the same as galloping across the hills. Her own wings were a sunny shades of gold and white that seemed to gleam in the afternoon sun. She gave a delighted laugh as she realised she was flying and flew higher into the endless blue sky above.

 

[Lorcán]

He hadn't felt such freedom in so many years. He felt strong and breathed deeply as the wind combed through his inky hair and feathers. He was well aware that he was dreaming, though he couldn't remember the last peaceful dream he'd had, and allowed himself to embrace it.

Then there were another set of wings, the most beautiful wings he'd ever seen in his long life, and his heart leapt. He laughed as he watched her tear into the sky, silhouetting the sunlight as he looked up at her in admiration. Flying suited her.

Lorcan climbed into the sky, and time seemed to shift. The sun fell from the sky into the ocean, throwing up all manner of purples and pinks into the sky below, and above them, stars glittered like a myriad of diamonds spread across black velvet and the moons bathed them in silver as they broke through a thin layer of cloud.

The prince paused to hover there, caught in a lazy crosswind that played under his wings, keeping him aloft as he reached out his hand toward her. "Dance?.." he smiled to her, his cheeks dimpling.

 

[Maeve]

He's not as much of an arse in here, clearly I am dreaming, Maeve mused as within the dream she considered the outstretched hand.

Flying felt so natural in this world. She couldn't remember not having wings which she beat easily to keep herself hovering in the air opposite him. The stars acted as their only audience as Maeve took his hand and twined her fingers in his, her own answering grin splitting across her face. What harm was there in a dance on such a wonderful night such as this? The wind caught her wings as she dipped them ever so slightly in order to sweep closer to him. Moonlight reflected off each fleck of gold and turned the white tips to silver.

Once she was closer she slid her arms around his neck and rested her head against his shoulder. She had never felt so... complete.

 

[Lorcán]

The sight of her winged form silhouetted by moonlight robbed him of breath for a moment, his words catching in his throat as she took his hand and smiled at him like that. His hands slipped to the small of her back and his chest ached the way it had when she'd rested her head on his shoulder like that by the fire. He wasn't sure he'd ever forgive himself for frightening her.. He really was an 'arse'...

His cheek rested atop her head and he breathed deeply, the wind holding them in a peaceful sway. It was exactly as he'd painted on the cabin wall, but even more perfect.

"You look beautiful." he rumbled quietly. The handprint she'd left on his chest seemed to burn pleasantly with her against him, as though in reaction to her, to the missing part of his soul. "Would you stay here with me?.." he asked, his tone dropping to a fragile whisper.

 

[Maeve]

Was it possible to fall asleep in a dream?

She felt as though she could fall asleep all over again with her head on his shoulder and the gentle beats of their wings. Being afraid of flying - of him - felt like a lifetime ago. How could she be? It seemed so wrong, the very thought of it, now. Maybe it was the comfort of knowing he believed he owed her his life now that made her own seem free. Maybe... Maybe it was just that he had shown her another side to him.

"It's a dream," she chided softly but then slowly raised her head to look at him. This time she didn't mind so much if she drowned in his eyes. Her fingers trailed to his cheek and a coy smile played across her lips. "I think you'll get a very bad back sitting on that chair if we stay."

 

[Lorcán]

His eyes creased and his dimples deepened as he let out a husky laugh at her, leaning into her hand. "We could stay asleep.." he sighed. Their own world, one where the usual darkness that plagued him was kept at bay by whatever light she seemed to emit. One where his father couldn't reach him, or her. One where he didn't need to make a decision to leave her..

He glanced up at the falling stars that had started to rain passed them to melt into the lake below, causing it to sparkle as the sky did. "I haven't dreamt like this in many years." he breathed as he looked down at her and let his gaze wander the span of her wings with an appreciative smile. She was a contrast to him in every way, light as he was dark in perfect balance. She quite literally completed him, and where the thought had frightened him, it also made it impossible for him to feel alone.

"I don't..." he paused, swallowing his hesitation. "I don't want to leave you, Mae." he frowned, his gaze narrowing nervously..

 

[Maeve]

Maeve's eyes lifted with his to watch the stars. It was like they too wanted to be a part of the dance and so flung themselves down from the safe haven of the sky to twirl and spin and... live. For living wasn't hiding away where you would be safe. It was enjoying the thrill of the fall and all the dangers that came with it. That's why she couldn't agree with his decision to stay in this dream even if she wanted to. This wasn't living. Dreams were meant to stay dreams sometimes. Especially the most beautiful ones.

His words took the rug out from under her feet. Her breathing hitched and stuttered whilst her cheeks heated. She hadn't been expecting them and yet... once he had said them she realised she had been waiting for them. Hoping for them. It confused and frightened her all at once.

"Then... don't," she rested her forehead against his and shut her eyes. "Stay."

 

[Lorcán]

He was so finely attuned to each little emotion she felt, so aware of even her slightest idiosyncrasies that he felt he’d known her for a lifetime. And yet, there was so much more left to know, and he couldn’t stand the thought of never knowing it..

Stay…

The word melted something in him. Her acceptance, she who had hated and run from him, whom he’d dropped his guard around, who had seen who he wanted to be and who wanted him around enough to say the word. Stay.

His chest ached with the rising waves of fear and doubt, the usual self loathing that plagued him, and he frowned and closed his eyes as he tried to weather it and focus instead on that echoing word. There were certain realities that he’d have to acknowledge but right now wasn’t the time, this wasn’t reality… Would she say the same if she were awake?

He didn’t deserve her. How could he ever? She had no idea who he was and what he was capable of. He should’ve left already.

Stay…

His hold tightened on her, a hand lifting to comb through her crimson hair as he pressed his lips to her forehead.

She hadn’t sent him away. She hadn’t run the first chance she had. She’d saved his life rather than see him die…

And now she wanted him to stay. A tear ran down his cheek, both in dream and as he slept in the chair.

“Alright..” he breathed. “Maybe for a little while.” He smirked.