Private Tales Ash and Iron

[Maeve]

I don't deserve her.... no idea... capable of... saved me...

The fear rushed over her like the tide crashing against the shore and she put her palm flat against his chest to steady herself. Had this bond been like this for him the whole time? Her thoughts, emotions, everything laid bare so plainly? The worry of what pain that might have caused him vanished as he pressed his lips to her forehead and a faint smile danced across her lips. Lashes lifted as she looked up at him and followed the trail of his tear down his cheek. Fae even cried in a pretty manner, how was that possible? She shook her head in wonder at the injustice.

The smile slowly faded.

"What happened...? When I healed you...?" she looked down at where her palm rested over her handprint. It seemed to glow at her touch along with the swirls that coated his body. "I feel like I could close my eyes and point to where you are a mile away."

 

[Lorcán]

He winced slightly at the question he'd hoped she wouldn't ask. Talk of bonds and such would no doubt frighten her enough let alone souls..

Lòrcan let out a quiet sigh, his hands smoothing over her shoulders where they rested as he looked over her, his eyes darkening with the anxiety he felt at the thought of her retreating. His father's cold laugh echoed through the dream, his own subconscious threatening to shake him from sleep. His jaw tightened and his grip gently tightened on her as though she were the only thing anchoring him. The stars stopped falling in mid air and instead hovered around them in a slow spiral.

"The same thing that happened when I healed your illness.." he swallowed, searching her face, tugging at a tether of that bond, but he wouldn't dare try to soothe her by toying with her emotions. He wanted to know what it made her feel, whether it was fear, anger or disgust, he had to know and the dread was plain on his face.

"You gave me a piece of your soul.." he clarified with a light frown. His own was now full again, something he hadn't yet considered. "So now, I suppose the little piece of mine that you have sort of..clicked into place." he cleared his throat.

 

[Maeve]

The world seemed to stop and if it weren't for his grip on her shoulders Maeve was sure she would have fallen.

"I gave you... my... soul...?"

Once, her grandfather had shown her a book that his great grandfather had given him from the lands to the far West. In it had been a symbol; a perfect circle but split in two twining orbs. One was white with a black dot in its centre and the other black with a white dot in its centre. He had told her that it had resembled perfect harmony - light and darkness - but that no light was without darkness and no dark without light within. It seemed absurdly appropriate to what it was he was describing. What he was describing. Her head spun with the information and she wasn't sure if she wanted to vomit or cry or... or what. Not because it bound her to him more tightly than before but because it distanced her more from what she had been.

Human.

If there had been any hope she was still one of those it vanished with his words and it felt like she had lost her home. A human would not have been able to carve her soul apart and gift it to another. So how, how had she done it? His gifts? No... No the sunlight was not from him. She knew that deep inside of her heart.

"Fiadh," Maeve blurted suddenly. The summer fae who had given her blood those gifts so long ago. "Your soul... it must have... it must have kick-started the fae... the fae..."

Abruptly the scenery changed. The sky was now far above them and blazed with the heat of the midday sun. They were stood under a tall tree with pretty blossoms swaying in the slight breeze. Maeve dropped to the floor as the last of her strength faded. It all made sense now. The storms, the brilliant sunlight she could feel inside of her. Not gifts from a few generations removed like they had thought. Her gifts. Gifts of summer that had lain dormant in her people for years and now... now with a little bit of Autumn sat snugly in its centre.

What did that make her?

 

[Lorcán]

His heart was beating so hard that it ached. He saw her memory, and he felt what she felt. He hadn't expected her to take it well, and he could feel that sorrow and loneliness and mentally cursed himself. She was supposed to let him die, it would have been easier than this..

The autumn prince stared at her, watching her try not to fall apart and feeling utterly hopeless to stop it. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know that would happen, I don’t know how..” his words trailed off as the dream around them shifted, his hands slipping from her shoulders.

“Fiadh? What about her?..” he asked in confusion, and by the time he’d glanced up at the blossoming tree she fell, and Lorcan dropped after her, reaching for her shoulders again.

“It.. it doesn’t have to mean anything, Mae. I can teach you to block it out, and I’ll go home, whatever you want. You can go back to your life, if that’s what you want.” He frowned, the thought cracking something in his chest but he had to let her know that she still had a choice.

 

[Maeve]

"How can I go back?" Maeve looked up at him as tears pooled in her eyes, turning them into shattered emeralds. Trying to blink them away only made them spill down her cheeks both in the dream and where she lay in the bed. She could feel the tears falling on her arms even in here, though they felt more like the memory of tears than truly wet as they would if she were awake. She didn't pull away from him though. A part of her thiught she should be angry with him for the situation she found herself in but she couldn't make herself. He hadn't forced her to heal him; he had been than willing to die. It had been her choice.

"Look at me," she held out her hands. Everything about her looked exemplified. Her hair was an impossible, brilliant shade of red, her skin clear and as perfect as porcelain, her eyes the exact shade of rich jewels. She was too scared to move her hair to see if her ears were pointed too. "How... how can I go home? Or even back to Viv...? There's iron all over her shop," iron and Ash she had put there and that would now keep her out forever.

She looked down at her upturned palms as though she had never seen them before.

"I'm not one of them. But I'm not one of you, either."

 

[Lorcán]

This was killing him, every tear like a shard of glass in his heart. He could take away her sadness, make her feel safe and calm, but it wouldn't change things. This, he couldn't fix, and he knew the importance of feeling emotions despite rarely allowing himself to feel them. He certainly wasn't about to ply her with alcohol and all manner of drugs and other pleasures to make her feel some temporary numb..

Look at me..

"I am.." he answered her quickly, his gaze wandering over her face and drifting through her hair as he reached to collect a tether betwixt his thumb and forefinger. "You're beautiful." he frowned, a half smile on his lips. Most females wanted nothing more than to be as beautiful as she was, and yet it seemed to trouble Mae. She wasn't like most females, on either side of the wall.

His head shook at her.. "No. You're far better than us. I've never met human nor fae with a heart as kind. That's who you are and it hasn't changed. You're just.. Stronger." his hands settled over hers, clutching them gently.

"Tell me what to do." he frowned at her, a muscle feathering in his jaw. If she asked for comfort he'd offer it, if she needed time alone he'd give it, If she wanted him to leave, he'd do it.

 

[Maeve]

She wanted to laugh when he called her kind but it only came out as a choked sob. Had he forgotten already how she had had every intention of killing him herself? The Ash arrows she had brought with her, the iron knife by the bedside?

Maeve stared glumly at his hands as they encased her own. They looked so small and only yesterday she had felt like he could snap her if he wanted to but now? Now she could feel the tenderness in his own bones and how easy it would be to snap it. It terrified her. When she finally lifted her eyes to his they looked almost vacant.

"What's done is done," there wasn't anything he could do to change it. Neither of them could. She took a breath and another but it just seemed to make her feel more hollow. What was worse though was the feelings she was sensing from him. Guilt, distress, fear. It battered at her like a storm.

"It was my choice, if you take blame for it you're taking away the fact it was my choice. And I... I can't..." Free will. Keeping it had been the reason behind her fleeing. It had been the reason behind every careful decision. If he took this from her it would break the central pillar of who she was. She swallowed another sob and brushed at her tears with the back of her hand, though she didn't release his, and tried another breath.

"I think I need to tell you about the deal my people made with Fiadh..."

 

[Lorcán]

He didn't answer her. Whether her choice or not, he shouldn't have come to her. In three days she'd changed his life for the better and he'd selfishly allowed himself to feel, to hide all pretence of cruelty, for what had it mattered any more when his life was being cut short? Had he at least continued to make her hate him, she might have let him die. It seemed that he'd changed her life for the worst, and that he couldn't handle.

Lòrcan could only stare at her as she sobbed, his eyes darkening as he ached. The sight of her sadness made him want to destroy an army or burn a city to the ground. He swallowed, and dark walls of solid shadow were thrown up in his mind, keeping her out of his chaotic carousel of thoughts and emotions. In his chair, shadows doused the light in the room and crawled over his skin like smoke..

His brow furrowed as she mentioned another deal, and he silently nodded for her to go on..

 

[Maeve]

It was like having a blanket thrown over her mind, the sudden loss of his thoughts and feelings, and she looked at him as though he had just slapped her across the face. Ridiculous to feel such a way, she chided, he was entitled to his privacy. Yet...

She pushed the feeling from her mind and drew her knees up to her chest then wrapped her arms around them. What she was about to tell him was a fairytale. Or at least, it had been when she was small.

"You know my Isle resides in the Summer Court," she waited for the nod before continuing. "It didn't used to be" - did he already know? How old was he? - "My grandfather... well, my ancestor Liath, is the reason. We used to be a people of many different clans who fought all the time. Liath wanted to unite us all under one banner to make us stronger. He visited a Grove and called on the Fae to give him the abilities to do that. She bound him as a... a warlock I think you call them. He went on to unite us as one people and once he had done that, he vanished."

She took a breath.

"Liath had many children. And they many more. But a part of the deal was that all of his blood would possess her Blessing. In the past it was said we had other gifts but it grew diluted over the centuries to just being a little stronger, a little faster than those without royal blood," but still human. Firmly human.

"But when you... gave me... your soul, and when I reached 18 and the deal clicked into place, I think... I think it might have... jump started that fae part of my blood from Her, from Fiadh. I think that's why I could..."

 

[Lorcán]

He let go of her hands, watching her hug at her knees and he pulled his hands back, resisting the urge to comb his fingers through her hair or caress her cheek. He shifted to sit against the tree, glancing upward and noticing that the petals had burned to ashen embers which were now slowly falling to the ground around him. He rubbed at his face, and listened, trying to battle down the raging storm in his mind and striving to keep her sheltered from it. He'd caused her enough grief. He remained silent as she spoke, the story of her people new to him, but he was certain that Amaryllis would know of it.

Lòrcan remained silent for a long moment after she'd finished speaking and he nodded stiffly.. "Fiadh.." he nodded slowly and dropped his gaze. His gifts were shadow, fire and air, but never light. Of course it hadn't come from him, magic like that had no place in his blood. "It makes sense now.." he answered weakly, resting his elbows atop his knees and running his fingers into his hair as his head fell into his hands. He shouldn't have come here.

He heard thunder crack above.. "I'll give you your privacy." he told her, glancing up at the meadow, the same one she'd been riding her horse in when he'd joined her. A horse whinnied, and Lòrcan offered her a small smile as he quickly faded into shadow, the storm above her clearing as he woke.

 

[Maeve]

"Please don't--"

Her hand clasped around empty air as she felt him leave their shared dream. She could only stare at her outstretched hand for a time before finally lowering it. Alone. How long since there had been silence in her mind? It felt like years ago she had healed him and bound them tighter still than the deal he had made with her parents. Alone, Alone, Alone. The thought buzzed in her mind like a swarm and widened the hole in her heart. She wanted to wake up for she didn't believe she could find any peace in sleep with this feeling in her chest, but her body had other ideas.

Exhausted, she curled up beneath the tree and allowed herself to slide into further sleep.

In the waking world as she slept the change she had been seeing on herself was taking place. Her skin glowed with the warmth of a setting summer sun and pulsed in rhythm with her deep, slow breaths as it changed. Adapted. Grew to fit and contain the dormant magic now awakened inside her veins.

 

[Lorcán]

He heard her words echo in his mind as his eyes opened, blinking at her glowing form in the darkness of the room. The shadows crept back to him, seeping into his skin as he got to his feet to walk to her bedside, his hand pushing back the fiery locks and dragging his knuckles across her warm cheek.

He felt the thrum of magic in her veins, it seemed to reverberate heat through his bones and soothe his aching muscles.. He tugged gently on that tether as he stroked her hair, an assurance that he hadn't left her. He settled down beside her, watching those subtle shifts in awe.

It was as though he was being torn in two. He was certain that leaving would be best for her, that he would only bring her more pain. And yet the thought was crippling. His power simmered dangerously under his skin. It needed an outlet at the best of times, but when his emotions ran high he felt like he'd implode. He wouldn't move, not until she woke. Until then he'd remain there, stroking her hair and trying not to fall back asleep..

 

[Maeve]

The tug of reassurance, the exhaustion of the days events, the distant feeling of his hand through her hair... whichever reason she would decide to blame it on, Maeve slept deeply and dreamlessly.

For three days straight.

Considering the extent of her playing with magic before had been warming water, unintentional storms and talking to the wind, the girl was lucky she was only sleeping and lucky even more that it lasted only for three days. People who had done less had suffered worse but it seemed in this case, the Laws of Magic had been kind to the human who had given up what she was to save someone she had hated only days before. Perhaps the universe thought that enough payment to bring a man back from the brink of death.

When she did, finally crack open her eyes she gave a low groan. Her head was pounding and everything seemed so much... brighter. Clearer. Crisper. The birds' song outside sounded like actual words. Or at least something she could understand now. Maeve wanted to crawl back into that sleep and rolled over with every intention of doing so believing she had been asleep for only a few hours.

"Few more minutes," she sighed, sleepily, as the birds chattered about the morning worms that needed to be caught.

 

[Lorcán]

He had barely left the room. Every now and then he'd reach into her mind to check that she was sleeping peacefully and brush at her subconscious with another reminder that he was there. He had managed to sleep for some hours here and there, but he too slept dreamlessly aside for one dream that involved his father hacking his wings from his back.

When he wasn't sitting or laying next to her, he took to painting the rest of the room. On one side of the wall was him with his dark wings, surrounded by tendrils of shadow, his half naked form painted with her handprint and the strange swirling marks that now decorated his olive skin. On the other side was her, bright and beautiful in a billowing dress and white and gold wings, a halo of blinding light shining around her. On the other wall was her meadow and horses, the blossoming tree from her dream, and on the ceiling was more of the night sky that they'd danced in.

He was resting beside her when she finally stirred, his brow quirking as her voice roused him. His skin was covered in colourful splashes of paint that he hadn't bothered to wash before settling down beside her in his shorts.

"Few more minutes, or a few more days?.." he rumbled sleepily and stretched.

 

[Maeve]

Maeve made a mocking whinging sound that was muffled by the pillow. Days indeed! She had not been asleep--

"Days!?" She rolled over, half sitting up in the process. The world spun for her troubles and she had to put both hands on the bed either side of her to steady the nausea. Everything cried out at once for her attention; bladder, stomach, head. Mae didn't know which one to pay attention to first so she opted for none and rounded on Lórcan stretched out like a cat beside her.

"I've been asleep for days?" The curls on one side of her head had gone completely flat from where she had been sleeping whilst the other side looked like a badger had attempted to make a den out of it. She wanted clarity but the war of her body won out and she scrambled over the top of him and darted for the bathroom with a groaning whine before he could.

When she came back it was with a sad looking apple and a bit of cheese which she was shovelling into her mouth as quickly as she could.

"Whydidnfyew'akemef," she accused.

 

[Lorcán]

One eye opened as she sat up so suddenly, his lips twisting at the frankly adorable sight of her dishevelment. He cleared his throat..

"I-- oomf-" he grunted as she climbed over him and rushed out of the room, rubbing at his chest with a quiet laugh under his breath. He rolled out of bed to stand by the window, his arms stretching above his head before he laced his hands at the back of his neck and drew in a deep breath, turning to her as she returned.

"You obviously needed the sleep.." he reasoned with a shrug. He lifted his hand in a subtle wave and the apple and cheese evaporated into a puff of shadow, and once again as a tray of food appeared on the bed. He assumed, given the changes she'd undergone, that she'd be safe enough to eat good food.

He gestured to the array of meats, breads, cheeses, fruits, pies and deserts, and a fresh pot of tea sat by her bedside. "How're you feeling?" he asked casually, lifting a cloth to start cleaning the paint from his skin..

 

[Maeve]

A growl was half way out of her mouth for making her food disappear when a whole feast appeared in its place. She blinked and then unceremoniously dived on it like a woman who had been eating nothing but crusts for ten years. Her belly felt so hollow she didn't think she would ever feel full again but this might go some way to helping her regain that feeling. She almost forgot he had asked her a question as she shovelled a rolled up slice of ham around a soft white garlic cheese into her mouth and had to swallow audibly to have the ability to answer.

"Tired," she admitted with a grimace. How she could be after days in the bed she didn't know. "But also... like I could run for miles," it was an odd sensation to explain other than she felt more alive than she had ever felt. Instead of explaining it she let the shield of sunlight drop from around her mind so he could feel what she felt. It just felt right to do so, though belatedly she wondered if that was bad decorum.

In the meantime her eyes flickered to the paintings and gave a low whistle.

"I was going to ask what you had been doing all this time, but..."

 

[Lorcán]

His eyes narrowed in an easy smile as she attacked the meal with reckless abandon, throwing down the cloth and sitting on the bottom of the bed to watch her, helping himself to a slice of honey roasted boar.

He paused mid-bite to stare at her for a moment as he realised she'd been shielding him, a shudder racing down his spine as her mind crashed into his. His gaze dropped and his throat cleared quietly as he nodded. "It'll take your mortal self some time to catch up, I expect." he rumbled as he began chewing again.

Lòrcan glanced up at the paintings with a light smirk and a casual shrug. "Kept me busy.." he huffed a laugh, and let a silence fall for a moment, wincing before he spoke..

"I've decided to go back home.." he told her quietly, picking dried paint from his hands.

 

[Maeve]

Maeve's hand stopped half way to her mouth as she stared at him. Quickly she tried to reassemble the wall of her emotions before the endless, stretching void of loneliness hit him. That wasn't his burden to bear and she would be damned if she kept him here out of guilt.

"Okay..." she put the piece of pork pie back down on the plate, her appetite suddenly gone. Idly she wondered if she could do the same - make things appear and reappear at will. "It's good... It's a-a good decision. Your brothers will be missing you," she nodded to herself. He had a family. A life. A life she had given him and one she didn't want him to waste.

 

[Lorcán]

A muscle feathered in his jaw as he watched her appetite leave her. He'd wanted nothing more than to take her with him, to let her meet his brothers and take her to see Ama, to show her that they weren't all as terrible as she'd thought them. As terrible as he was.. But with his father alive, there was no way she'd be safe, not unless certain measures were put in place first.

He gave a slow nod as she spoke of his brothers, a weak smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. He'd thought he'd never see them again, and he was fully expecting a beating for that upon his return. "I have, some things that I want to do." he rumbled quietly, suddenly finding his hands interesting.

"I've caused you enough trouble as it is. Whether your choice or not Mae, I shouldn't have come. And I am sorry that I brought this upon you."

 

[Maeve]

"It was my choice," her jaw clenched and she skewered him with a look that could have peeled flesh from the bone. Abruptly it vanished and she looked away, pretending to study the painting of the Plains with Whisper running through the long grass. It was like staring at the perfect snapshot of her dream and she wondered how he had captured it so perfectly from one memory. She ached to ride through those fields again but now... definitely not now. Even if she returned how she was and they didn't shoot her on site they would still feel bound by their deal to Lórcan and try to offer her back to the fae.

"You should go, you've waited around long enough for me," and she couldn't stand him being near him any longer knowing he was going to leave. Not after he had asked her to let him stay in their dream. Not after... Mae swallowed and pushed the tray away from her and stood up. Not that she knew where to go. Maybe Arun... he wouldn't leave her. He might even be able to help her figure out what she was now.

 

[Lorcán]

"I know." he snapped and met her glare head on. "Fuck, Maeve. I'm not taking anything away from you." he frowned at her and dropped his head into his hands, his shadows crawling over his skin as though trying to offer him extra armour to shield from whatever was causing him pain.

"What?.." he asked, his face a contortion of confusion as he looked back at her, his eyes darkening. "That's it just, go? No discussion, no questions just, get out?" he asked incredulously.

"I want to take you with me, but I need... I need to make sure you'll be safe." he frowned, the ache in his chest rising to his throat.

"I want to come back for you.. If that's what you want. It's your choice. Otherwise tell me to leave and never return and I'll do that." his jaw tightened, and whether his shields were iron clad or not, he felt more exposed and vulnerable now than he had when he lay dying on the floor.

 

[Maeve]

Light bubbled beneath her skin with her rising anger. It was only the tight, tight leash she was keeping on her tongue which was keeping it from blinding them both. What infuriated her the most wasn't that she was angry at him, or the situation, but at herself for getting so hurt. Of course he was going to go. Why had she even wanted him to stay? She would be fine on her own. Fuck him, fuck Vivienne, fuck Arun. Alone. She would embrace it.

"What do you want me to say?" despite the resolve she was trying to install in herself her voice cracked on the last word. A slither of the pain she was feeling that she promptly hid behind a smooth mask. When that failed she abruptly got to her feet and grabbed her own bag out of the corner she had thrown it in. She began throwing bits in with wild abandon. Anything to stop herself from crying. "Whatever this is between us, clearly it would be easier for us both if we just went ways without drawing it out or... promising things," because she couldn't just sit here and hope he came back.

Maeve hefted the bag onto her shoulder and dragged a hand through her bedraggled mane.

"Goodbye, Lorcan."

 

[Lorcán]

Goodbye?....

His heart splintered and he did absolutely nothing to shield it from her, perhaps in the hope that she'd take it back. He couldn't breathe, and he feared that if he spoke he'd fall apart, so no words came to him either. He simply watched her in pain and silence, his lips parting as he tried to force himself to say something...but he'd promised he'd go if she told him to.

Lòrcan swallowed and glanced around the room in a daze, half tempted to let his fires lick at the walls to erase the memories, but they'd never be gone from his mind. His jaw clenched as he gave a stiff, formal nod to her, though he couldn't bring himself to repeat that word for fear of it ripping him in two. He shut down that window between them with a harsh slam of darkness and turned away, praying she'd call him back before his wings burst from his back and carried him into the skies.

 

[Maeve]

It's for the best, she thought quietly to herself as he turned his back on her. Only then, when he couldn't see, did she let the tears roll down her cheeks in silent, heavy streams. She turned away so she didn't have to see those beautiful wings and went to grab her knife from the bedside table. Her fingers hovered a mere breath from it when she remembered, remembered what she was. She'd have to leave her bow too.

Without another word and before she lost hold of the little control she had in order to do what was necessary, Maeve marched out the door without a backwards glance.