Private Tales Ash and Iron

A private roleplay only for those invited by the first writer
Maeve drew up short when he landed in front of her, keeping a blank expression on her face. Which was very hard to do when he insisted on getting under her skin like so.

"Apologies don't fix things just like that, they're like a bandage you put over an infected wound. If you want to do better, if you want to change, then you need to understand why I am upset. So I'm telling you," her voice was the eerie calm of an adult explaining to a child why they shouldn't play with knives, even though from her darkening expression she very much wanted to yell.

"Yes, in that moment it was the truth. You had just thrown all of my pain back at me - my own memories - and when I still asked you not to go you left me to deal with that alone," days of nightmares, reliving every cut and slice and broken bone. The endless questions. It had nearly broken her all over again. Tears clogged her throat as she fought the fear from resurfacing. She let anger carry her through.

"Nobody offered to take me off Endora. They wanted me to stay, because they believed you were right and it was the only safe place for me. You say my place is by your side but it clearly isn't when your own people think to question what I ask. Midir didn't. He's an arsehole, yes. A scary one too, but at that moment he was the only one listening to me. I don't have anyone here aside from you, Lorcán! They'll all pick you over me. Your wishes, your desires, for me. I might as well be some... some prized horse. Midir didn't offer to teach me either, I asked. I wanted it. I want people to listen to me and the only way that seems to happen around here is with stupid magic!"

She was panting when she was done, tiredness creeping in.
 
"I just told you that I understand why you're upset. I am trying to do better, I'm trying to listen to you and give you the space that you wanted, you tell me to leave you alone and then accuse me of running away. I can't figure out what you want from me, Maeve. You almost kill me - my fault, I know - then you left me. You ran away because you couldn't control your anger. I didn't want you to control it then, I just wanted you to feel it, and use it, I know it was stupid but now you understand how difficult it is when all you see is black. Imagine how much rage you'd feel toward the person who tortured and terrified the one thing you love the most? If I hadn't gone, that rage would have consumed me. Terrible things happen to fae consumed by rage, Maeve. I didn't have a choice, lest I risk hurting you too. But I should have handled it better, and I... I'll work on it." he frowned, trying to keep his voice calm and level.

"If you think for one minute that anyone here would choose me over you, then you are sorely mistaken. I had four centuries of living here, of being shunned and beaten down. Of being reminded how utterly fucking worthless I am. I won't stay here, but if it is your wish to do so, then I can't stop you."
 
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"I RAN AWAY BECAUSE THE MAN I LOVE TOLD ME I HAD NO PLACE BUT AS HIS LITTLE ARM PIECE!"

Mae hadn't meant to shout but Lorcán had a way of burrowing under her control. She ran her hands through her wild mane to give them something to do besides strangling him.

"As for controlling it, why do you think I asked? You've got a 400 year head start on me on being," her face contorted with such a myriad of emotions it was hard to pin point one. "Fae. I'm sorry that my six months of training doesn't compare. Though, if in 400 years I'm still blowing shit up and fucking starting wars maybe I should just give up now!"
 
Lorcan winced as she yelled at him, his hand rubbing at the back of his neck. "I said that you should mind your place, not that you have no place. Do you see the difference? I can't lie to you. But by fuck if that was enough to leave me for dead I.." he laughed mirthlessly under his breath and huffed. "I've already explained why I did what I did. Hate me or not, you're more powerful for it." he frowned, realising how much he sounded like his father, and the thought turned his stomach.

"You're already far better than I ever was, Mae.." he said quietly. "Perhaps I shouldn't have come here. Raph warned me as much.. I didn't mean to piss you off any more than I already have. I'm done fighting. Just tell me what you want me to do and i'll do it. Tell me to break the bond and i'll see that it's done, if it's what you want."
 
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Maeve contemplated how much trouble she might get into for slapping the Crown Prince in his own backyard. Feyre had claimed to have done it at a party in the palace itself but maybe the Changeling was braver than her. Or maybe it was the stupid mating bond that made her not want to hurt her mate.

"You knew exactly what you were implying with knowing my place. It's the same thing!" She sighed in exasperation. This "discussion" was going round and round in circles.

"I want you to treat me like an equal; that's all I've ever wanted Lorcán. But you can't let go of this... this fear or grief or..." she didn't know what else to call this thing inside of him. "I don't think things will ever be right with us until you do. I'm not her Lorcán."
 
"No, you're not. You're my mate, and that makes you the most important thing to me in this world." he frowned. "I've told you that i'm trying to work on it. I've apologised again, and again. I've taken responsibility for how I've hurt you. You've hurt me too."

"I thought I had treated you like an equal, I thought I'd treated you as more. I love you far more than I love myself. There's nothing I wouldn't do for you." he frowned gently, looking every bit as broken as he felt.

"Will you come home with me?.. Or are you staying here?" he asked quietly.
 
Maeve folded her arms over her stomach and quietly wondered if he had said similar words to his last lover.

"I know I did," she said quietly. "I wanted to hurt you," and in the last week as her anger had cooled she had come to regret every hateful word she had said. "It was wrong of me to do that, I am sorry," she sighed and let her eyes drift shut. She felt more worn out from this discussion and the emotional pain than the last three sessions with her magic combined.

"If I come back will I be allowed to leave again? Go freely without one of your brothers babysitting me?" the last bit was said a little louder, directed towards the shadows of the gardens where she knew Raphael had been watching not only her training but the whole argument. "Are you going to start trusting me to take care of myself?"
 
Lorcan stared at her for a long while, the ache in his chest feeling a little less intense as she apologised, as she spoke of the possibility of staying with him and giving him another chance. He did nothing to clear the silent tears that ran down his cheeks as he nodded at her.

"You have my word."
 
The prickle of magic made her shudder and she wondered just when would she get used to these tiny little oaths and promises marking themselves on her skin.

"Then of course I will."
 
The tension he'd been holding himself with seemed to leave him as a shuddered breath of relief tumbled free. He ran a hand down his bruised and teary face, clearing his throat. He wanted to go to her, to pull her against him and hold her, but he refrained, fearing that she was still too angry to permit him to touch her.

His hands slipped into his pockets and he glanced back toward the courtyard. "You should let him know." he frowned, his gaze falling.
 
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"Why? He said I could leave whenever," Maeve shrugged and reached down to pet Balfour who had tentatively begun to wag his tail again on hearing the word home. "He's been in War Counsel for most of the week, today was the first time I've seen him since you arrived unless I bumped into him in your room," she stepped up beside Lorcan then continued on down the little garden path. Andras had taught her how to use the Leylines and one was just at the bottom of the row of wild blooms.

"I know you and he have a dark past but... he really has treated me well whilst I was here. Andras said Mates are a Fae Lore even he dare not touch," she peeked up at him curiously. The Shuck had refused to say more about the Erlkings history but she had sensed there was a lot left unspoken in the story.
 
"I only meant as a courtesy, not for his permission..' he replied, turning to follow her.

"In my room?.." he asked, unaware that either of them had been in his room. He wasn't entirely sure how long he'd been out for.

Lorcan nodded. "That's true. I know he won't hurt you, he just.. Seems to somewhat enjoy hurting me." he said quietly having half expected Maeve to be turned against him entirely.

"I'd like to train with you, if you'll let me.." he asked somewhat nervously as they reached the leyline.
 
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"He doesn't seem the sort for goodbye's," Maeve wrinkled her nose as she tried to imagine it. He only seemed interested when she had a point to make in a conversation, and otherwise appeared bored. At his surprise, however, Mae merely nodded.

"He checked in nearly every day as far as I'm aware," she bent and plucked a flower, twirling it in her fingers. "And he's said nothing to me about you I don't already know," she gave a half shrug. Idiot had been the word Midir had used. But through the bond Maeve knew every part of Lorcan's soul; the light and the dark. Just as he knew hers. She came to a stop by the ley lines.

"I need someone to teach me and not hold back. Midir said this magic is..." she looked at her hands with a sigh. "Well, he basically agreed with what you and Fiadh said. That if it's not controlled it could eat me from the inside out. Can you do that?"
 
She was right, of course, but it comforted him somewhat that she hadn't felt the need to say goodbye to Midir. Never-the-less, it was surprising to him that the male had deigned it necessary to check in on him whilst he healed. He recalled the moments before he'd forced him to rest, and refused to allow him to have his bond with Maeve broken. He doubted he'd ever understand his father..

He hesitated at the thought of 'not holding back'. "It can. Right now that magic wants to control you. It needs an outlet and proper honing. It's more than just fighting it out in sparring.. But, yes, I will try to do that. But you must put as much effort into learning to properly shield yourself as you do with wielding your magic as a weapon." he said, offering his hand to her before he'd step onto the leyline.
 
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Maeve hesitated a brief moment before taking his hand and stepping through the leys. This time she didn't need him to control the weys, confident enough in her own magic to guide herself through the journey. When they stepped out on the edges of the Autumn Court, she answered his question.

"The shields are harder. I don't know why," she sighed and looked at the ocean before them. It was impossible to reach Endora by the leys. "The one I did today was the first one I've managed all week."
 
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Her hesitation wasn't lost on him, and his gaze saddened. Her hand felt like static energy in his. The bond that had been aching from distance and turmoil seemed to soothe, though he let go the moment they arrived on the cliff edge.

"Shielding was most difficult for me too. My magic is, destructive. It wants to attack, not defend. We just need to mold it, as though it were something solid." he explained quietly, staring at the swirling ocean and craggy rocks, at where Endora sat despite the island's invisibility.

"We'll have to think of an easier way for you to come and go. I doubt you want my brothers or I carrying you whenever you wish to do so.. At the moment, though.." he cleared his throat, the look on his face solemn and apologetic.

"May I?"
 
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Something deep inside her chest hurt at the way he looked at her, so hesitant and unsure. But this was new to her too. It felt as though they had ripped open every wound they had and were still bleeding. It would take time for them both to heal and find comfort in one another again.

She nodded at his request.

"You could take down the barrier," she suggested softly. It wasn't as though Midir didn't know the island existed and with the war coming it would seen be obvious one of the commanders of the Autumn Army wasn't stationed in the city proper. "I... I don't mean because I feel like it's trapping me more..." she pressed her lips together. "Doesn't everyone deserve to enjoy it too?"
 
"Perhaps some day, I will.. But not yet. I intend on using it as a refuge for the vulnerable. If Summer bring the war to us, I want our people to be as safe as they can." he said as he gently lifted her into his arms, and launched them both into the air.

He brought her to the courtyard, recalling the first time that he'd brought her here, how he hadn't let her go, carried her to their bedroom where they stayed for days. The memory was torturous right now as he let her go and stepped away from her.

He was grateful to see that most of the damage had been repaired, and he cleared his throat. "I uh.. Have some apologies to make to my household.. Perhaps, if you wish, you might join me for dinner later.." he said as he took another step back and turned on his heels.
 
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Maeve winced as he turned and walked away, setting Balfour down to go yapping off in the gardens he knew well. Her eyes wandered to the destruction of the sunroom and she gave a soft sigh. Raphael had told her that Lorcans reaction had not been good but seeing it was another thing. She had her own apologies she needed to make. For the staff and locals she had scared in her anger.

Still she found herself wandering through the debris to inspect the damage. Midir said that in theory her magic would one day move beyond just starlight and be able to do things like repair walls, but she wished it was sooner. She felt like she was running out of time.

A flash of colour caught her eye and she crouched to investigate. Brushing away bits of broken stone she uncovered the glimmering wedding band. Mae bit the inside of her cheek as she picked it up. After a small debate she slid it on to the necklace she wore about her neck.
 
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Lorcan spent the day making amends with his house staff, though his clumsy attempts at helping often resulted in more chaos than assistance. He moved from room to room, trying to fix what he could, but it became clear he was more of a hindrance than a help. Finally, Trina, the older cook, shooed him out of the kitchen, her patience worn thin.

"Go on, get out of here Lorcan!" she scolded, hands on her hips. "So help me i'll put up a ward to keep you out if I have to. Let me prepare supper in peace. I know what Maeve likes, and I'll take care of it."

With nothing left to do and feeling more restless by the minute, Lorcan found himself in the dining hall long before supper was ready. He sat at the too-large table, his gaze fixed on the door. The minutes dragged by, each one feeling like an eternity as he waited, the empty room echoing with his own sense of solitude. He wanted to make things right with Maeve, but he couldn't shake the feeling that he had somehow driven her further away.
 
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Maeve spent the day making her own apologies, and having a guest room set up for herself. She didn't want to have the awkward conversation where Lorcan insisted that she take their old rooms whilst he sleep on a run down sofa to punish himself. At least this way, they could both be comfortable. Plus, the twins had ensured that the room was next door to their old suite, so that "whenever they got over their argument" as the sisters had kindly put it, they would not be far from one another.

She knew enough about picking battles not to start one over that.

"Sorry I'm late," she said, sweeping in to the rooms. She had changed from the gear she had been using for her lessons to a simple dress that was... covered in mud. "Balfour insisted on another loop," she huffed as the pup bounded in her heels, also covered in mud but excitedly raced up to Lorcan and plopped himself down, panting, at his feet. Mae considered the chair at the far end of the table then decided for the one on Lorcan's left instead.
 
He had resigned himself to dining alone, but the food remained untouched on the table, his appetite squashed by thoughts consumed by the pain of their separation. He sat at the table, head in his hands, tuning out the bustling activity around him. Maeve's voice, when it finally broke through the fog of his thoughts, startled him.

Lorcan's initial surprise melted into a brief smirk at the sight of the muddy pair. He bent down to scratch behind Balfour's ears, a small smile tugging at his lips before he looked back up at Maeve, and stood abruptly, waiting for her to sit.. "That's alright.." he said, clearing his throat.

His heart clenched when she chose to sit beside him rather than at the far end of the table. The feeling only intensifying when he noticed the wedding band she wore around her neck. It wasn't back on her finger, but she had picked it up and was wearing it in some capacity. It was a small gesture, but it filled him with both relief and a sharp pang of longing.

"I, uh.." he stammered, swallowing hard as he tried to find his words. "I hope you're hungry." He managed a weak smile, gesturing to the table laden with all of her favourite foods, still warm and fresh despite how long it'd been sitting there. "Trina's been busy preparing everything you like."
 
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One of the servants stepped forward helpfully with a bowl of water for her hands and Maeve shot them a smile of gratitude.

"So I see," her lips kicked up into a small smile as she examined the table. There was a tenseness in the room and not just from Lorcan. Even the servants it seemed wanted to see their Prince and Princess back to normal, and so Mae tried to carry the conversation as though the weight of the room were not making her feel light headed. "Your favourites too," she noted, nodding to a few dishes that were more to his taste than hers. "Clearly we were missed," Balfour barked as though to agree.
 
Lorcan hadn’t noticed the specifics of the food being brought in, his mind too clouded with worry and regret. But now, seeing the venison stew and fresh-baked honey bread, he let out a soft, almost disbelieving laugh. "Seems so," he replied, his eyes meeting hers with a touch of warmth.

"Thank you for joining me," he said gently. The simple act of her being there meant more than he could express. "You.. enjoyed your walk, I take it?" he asked, his smirk widening as he glanced at Balfour, whose tongue was lolling out in pure contentment.

Balfour's bowl was set down next, and the cu-sith bounded over to it to devour his meal. Lorcan watched the creature for a moment, a small smile playing on his lips before he turned his attention back to Maeve.

"I missed this," he admitted quietly, his gaze softening as his eyes searched hers, seeking reassurance, connection. "I'm glad you're here."
 
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"Me too," Maeve admitted quietly with a shy, hesitant smile. It was strange, feeling as though she knew this man better than herself and at the same time feeling as though he were a stranger. Their argument, the war, and everything else had created a new reality for them both and she was not sure how to navigate it. Tiny steps, the twins who were her handmaidens had suggested, and Maeve was keen to take their advice.

"The walk was good. There are some bits of the garden that need repairing, and the weeds look as though they haven't been tended to for longer than a week! The gardener thinks the increased speed of growth might be because of the earth dragon having decided to stay a while. Apparently they could be affecting the whole island unknowingly."