Private Tales Ash and Iron

[Maeve]

The redhead's eye twitched and her grip tightened on the glass as his mockery of her voice.

"Take them back then," she spoke without hesitation. They were more terrifying than they were useful to her and only reminded her that she owed a fae a debt. It was a dangerous thing to have hanging over her head. Perhaps if he took those back she would have to spend even less time with him and he wouldn't see her life as interesting anymore. What could a fae possibly find interesting about a mortal life anyway?

"I didn't ask for your gifts, I didn't ask to live - I would have been blissfully unaware if I had died as a babe. But, instead of them being selfless and letting their child go they did anything to keep her alive including selling her soul to a-" the glass shattered in her hand. Golden liquor mixed with crimson blood streamed between her fingers like twin rivers as diamond shards of crystal fell to the floor. Mae gave a sharp curse as she gripped her wrist.

 

[Lorcán]

She was testing his patience, and he was quickly running out. He'd expected gratitude, he'd expected her to realise how fortunate she was to be alive, to have strength and abilities that mere mortals could only dream of having. He had saved her fucking life and given those things because he'd wanted to help a crying mother, not because he'd wanted anything from it, and again and again she threw it back in his face.

Lorcan's eyes grew darker and darker as she went on, as he felt her own temper flare his was barely contained, but the second she mentioned her soul and the crystal shattered, he snapped. In a moment he was at her, he could smell that blood but he didn't give a second's hesitation or care that she was wounded as he reached to wrap a hand around her throat and drag her attention to him with a tightening grip.

"YOUR soul?!" Lórcan bellowed at her, the force of power writhing in his veins causing the walls of the cabin to shudder and the flames of the hearth to go out. Shadows formed around him like a blanket of smoke, crawling over his body. "You think they sold your soul?..." he laughed darkly, bitterly. "No Princess, it was me who gave up a piece of MY fucking soul, yours is entirely intact." his grip tightened again.

"Why do you think you can feel my presence, hear my thoughts, why you're bound to me and have MY fucking abilities? I broke myself so that YOU could live and you've been nothing but ungrateful." he sneered at her, his grip trembling as he fought against the urge to snap her neck and rid himself of the pain he was in.

 

[Maeve]

Maeve had been on the brink of pulling out a shard of glass when in a blink the faerie opposite her went from lounging on the couch to towering over her. She didn't have time to react other than the widening of her eyes before his hand wrapped itself about her throat and squeezed. The pain in her hand was forgotten as she grabbed at his wrist in an attempt to ease the pressure on her windpipe but she might as well have been a mewling kitten for all the good it did her. She might have been stronger than most humans, quicker too, but she was still leagues away from the fae.

She should have been scared - no, she was scared - but it was different to the undiluted fear she had felt in the sky. This time she could smother it with anger instead. Even if his words were a surprise and information she hadn't expected, even if she knew she should be prying more secrets out of him now he was enraged, all the Princess could do was flare up too.

"I'm sorry My Lord what kind of response do you want?! Should I flatter you, should I grovel at your feet, should I throw myself at you?" on the heel of her words a violent wind flung open the door and raged about the room sending bits of furniture flying here there and everywhere, buffeting against the two as if it hoped to tear them apart. "WHAT DO YOU WANT FROM ME? WHY ARE YOU HERE!?"

 

[Lorcán]

The Prince's jaw clenched so tight it ached. A chair flew into his back as the cabin door blew open, but his body tensed against the blow and it shattered across his back, leaving him unmoved, his gaze still fixed on the petulant Princess in his grip as she screamed in his face. His grip tightened when he could take no more of her yelling, the black of his pupils growing until they consumed the irises and whites and he glared at her with the black beady eyes of a raven.

"TO KILL YOU!" he snarled at her as he drew her toward him and launched her at the far wall of the cabin, his wings bursting painfully from his back. "That's what you want, isn't it?! You want me to take those gifts back, fine, but you don't get to keep your life. It belongs to me, all of it." he scowled, a hand waved toward the cabin door which slammed shut and locked.

 

[Maeve]

It was the answer she had been expecting. At least a part of her had. So it was only more anger that heated up her eyes the colour of cut emeralds until flames almost seemed to dance within them. She opened her mouth to retort when he launched her at the wall. Maeve slammed into the wooden panels with a loud crack before hitting the solid oak floor with a sickening thud. Pain lanced through her ribs and arm which had born the brunt of her impact with the ground but her spine was worse. Fire seemed to run up and down it every time she breathed.

Not that she would admit defeat so quickly. Her gaze flickered to the door even as it swam and growled when she heard the soft snick of the lock sliding home.

"Go on then," she spat, arms trembling as she pushed herself up even as her body screamed its protests. "At least in death I will be free - I won't owe you, I won't owe them, I won't owe anyone!" as she spoke her hand slid down to her soft leather boot and the iron dagger she had stashed there earlier. When her hand closed around the hilt she suddenly threw herself towards him with a scream, aiming for his heart.

 

[Lorcán]

Instant regret rushed over him the second she hit that wall and he felt the pain he'd inflicted upon her.

"Shit." he growled to himself, a hand raking through his hair. This had..escalated. He could have controlled his temper a little more, admittedly, but she was incredibly frustrating and the more his anger flared the less he could ignore his pain. In the last thirty seconds alone he had released more magic than his current condition would allow him without consequence.

Just as she'd been drawing that dagger he felt that searing pain spread outward from the wound in his side and he clutched at it with a shuddered groan, his eyes blinking back to normal, the wings dissolving into dark shadow which sunk back into his body.

"Wait Maeve sto--"

Lòrcan only just managed to grip hold of her wrist as she came at him with the blade. "Maeve." he growled, twisting her arm in hopes that she'd drop the weapon as he attempted to spin her back against his chest, his breaths short and sharp as he wrestled with both her and his pain.

 

[Maeve]

Pain shot up her arm as he twisted it around and behind her back. With a gasp her hand opened and the blade she'd been holding clattered to the floor between them. It barely registered to her as she tried to work out where her pain stopped and his started on her body. It all meshed together until it felt like every inch of her hurt in someway. Her spine, her arms, her hip and side. But there was another pain, a deeper one, inside her heart. She had tried to kill him and he hadn't instantly snapped her neck. In fact he'd regretted his actions - she had felt it - the same odd stirring in her stomach she had felt when he had nearly dropped her.

The fight left her.

As her body went limp the only sounds she could hear in the room were their ragged breaths as each of them struggled to deal with their hurts.

"Did you really come here to kill me?" Mae croaked once she had her breathing somewhat under control.

 

[Lorcán]

He took a long moment to pull a few deep breaths in through his nose as he trembled against the pain, his eyes closing as the edges of his vision darkened. He held her tightly against his chest in case she decided to continue her fight, but he could feel her muscles ease with resignation.

Her words were as much a stab in the chest as the one he'd narrowly avoided a moment ago. His brow furrowed and he remained silent for a moment, and he focused on pouring calm along that bond, something to numb whatever pain she was in, whether it hurt him or not.

It did hurt, and his arm fell from across her chest, his legs buckling beneath him, sending him stumbling back onto the soft, his skin pale and clammy. He bared his teeth and growled, his elbow clutched tightly against his side.

"Yes, and no.." he answered, running a hand down his face and casting his gaze to the ceiling as he huffed. "It's complicated. But I can't fuckin' do it.." his jaw tightened. "Either way, he wins." he laughed, but there was no amusement in it.

"You might as well lift that dagger and put me out of my misery, Princess." he added, and his eyes drifted heavily as he fought the urge to sleep.

 

[Maeve]

Marve turned as he fell. That odd sense of calm that had filled her in the sky returned and with a jolt she realised it was him through this... this bond. She took a shuddering breath and filled away that information for another day for right now it only confused her more. One puzzle at a time, and first up was that wound on his side.

She hovered uncertainly, debating her next move. There was no point in running even if instinct screamed at her to do so. She could try to heal him, her magic had worked on an elf they might work on him, but she was still afraid this was a trick. Another detection. Fae couldn't lie but they could twist the truth.

After the seconds turned into minutes she gave a huff and gingerly sat on the edge of the sofa.

"I didn't know fae could look like shit," she commented idly as her eyes ran down his body to the section over his side where the wound was. Even as she sat there her own wounds were knitting back together. Maybe... she could at least try. If nothing else than to stop the stabbing in her own side.

Carefully she put a hand over his stomach and focused her healing magic down.

 

[Lorcán]

He laughed and grimaced at the pain it caused to do so, growling in frustration. His heavy eyes blinked at her as she sat close to him and he swallowed, reaching to gently grip her arm before she could use any magic on him.

"Don't waste your energy.. It won't work." he rumbled. "It'll die down a little soon I'll just...rest a bit." his words were trailing off as he continued to battle with the urge to let himself sleep, and his fingers unfurled from her arm.

"Sorry I hurt you." he breathed, a sharp huff escaping his nose. Underneath his shirt, the dark veins of poison had snaked slowly closer his heart.

 

[Maeve]

Maeve watched him quietly as she weighed up the use of arguing. On the one hand she didn't know much about what it was that was causing him such pain and she could end up making it worse, but on the other hand... her lips pressed together but she nodded jerkily and accepted his wish.

"I'm sorry too for... attacking you," the words were difficult to get out but she wouldn't be the bad one in this situation and... and he had stopped. He hadn't wanted to kill her. "I just... don't... like feeling like I owe anyone anything," she rubbed at her upper arm and awkwardly looked away. Mae had been a fiercely independent person since she was a child. Learning that she owed someone for her whole life... it was a hard thing to submit to.

"You should sleep," she abruptly cleared her throat and stood up. "I'll go get us some dinner."

 

[Lorcán]

Her apology was one that he hadn’t expected. He’d have had an easier time believing that he was delirious and hearing things. His dark golden gaze fixed on her, taking in her words and the awkward way she looked away from him.

“You’ve nothing to apologise for. I was a prick..” he rumbled, his eyes closing and dark brows furrowing as he tried to breathe comfortably. "I'm not particularly good at making friends." he muttered. He looked up at her as she stood, shifting slightly but regretting the sudden movement.

Lorcan propped himself onto an elbow, it was as upright as he could manage for now, and he glanced toward the locked door at the idea of her leaving. He swallowed, and though he doubted her coming back at all, his hand twisted in the air and the heavy lock clicked in its chamber, and the door creaked open.

"Go back home, Maeve.." he told her quietly, his tone gentle for the first time. She didn't need to watch him die for three days. He simply had to know if he could kill her, three days seemed an adequate amount of time to do so (and about all he had left), but the memory of the fear he'd caused in her still crept along his skin like tendrils coiling ever tighter around his chest.

"I won't stop you."

 

[Maeve]

These apologies, his tender tone... She tried to close herself off to the emotions they stirred. She didn't plan on braiding his hair for the next three days but maybe she could handle the idea of not trying to stab him with an iron dagger or shoot him with an ash arrow. However, when he offered her the chance to leave and go home, her temper spiked once more.

"I made a deal," she reminded him in a clipped tone then took a breathe and let go of her rash anger. "Where I come from, deals are sacred," for a people who considered the fae their gods that was probably hardly surprising and whilst Maeve had learnt they were far from that, it was hard to rid herself of all of her peoples ways of life. "You telling me to go back on that deal is..." she scrunched up her nose as she tried to explain herself for perhaps the first time in her life. "It is dishonour."

Maeve ran her eyes over him once more before turning on her heel and heading for the door.

"Sleep. I'll get food," she repeated and shut the door behind her.

 

[Lorcán]

And yet you spent a year trying to hide from me..

He swallowed the words, clenching his jaw tight as he refrained from letting them resurface. He wouldn't argue with her, he didn't want her to leave even though he'd half expected her to literally run for the hills.. Deals were often life or death in his world, but his future looked bleak and so it wouldn't much matter if he rescinded.

Lórcan remained quiet as he watched her, felt her try to contain that temper, dipped his chin lightly as she explained. She didn't have to explain, of course, he understood, he just didn't feel like making her suffer any more. The closer she was to him, the more she'd feel his pain no doubt. He'd block it from her as much as he could...

His eyes didn't leave her as she looked over him and left. The second the door had clicked shut he lifted his shirt to survey the mess of blackened veins around the festered wound and how far they'd spread. He cursed quietly to himself, the sight alone making him nauseous. Sleep came for him quickly, his eyes too heavy to force open anymore.

 

[Maeve]

Maeve stood on the porch once the door snicked shut behind her and took a moment to simply breathe. The lake lay before her like a perfect jewel shimmering in the afternoon light. She knew at this time of year the waters would be teaming with fish but the forests, too, would be full of game after the spring birthing. She debated which way to go; lake, forest, or back inside? She cursed herself quietly and attempted feebly to build an imaginary wall inside of her mind like he had suggested but gave up eventually.

Instead she turned back to what she was good at; hunting. With another glance to the lake she set off towards the forest, knocking an arrow into her bow as she moved.

It took a few hours to find the right spot and another before something with more meat than skin on it came to the watering hole, but by the time the sun was setting Maeve returned with the young sow draped across her back. Outside she skinned, gutted, and cleaned the pig before carving it up into smaller portions which would see them through the next few days.

The head she left as an offering; old habits died hard.

Quiet as a mouse, Mae crept back inside with the meat and stalked to the large fireplace where she went about spitting chunks, seasoning them, and then retrieving her bag with more practical supplies like bread, milk, cheese and vegetables. She hoped Vivienne wouldn't mind her taking them. As she worked she began to hum an old song under her breath.

 

[Lorcán]

The pain slowly ebbed and flowed until sleep dragged him under and washed it from his mind. He dreamt vividly, of the crystalline lake and lush, verdant forest, of a bow nocking with an arrow, of dainty feet treading the pine needle carpet, weaving their way through the thick trees. Of the sow that looked up a second too late and the arrow that killed it, of the setting sun that cast it's coppery glow through the trees, dappling the forest floor in a myriad of flickering lights. He dreamt of the so being skinned and butchered, of the head left as an offering to the Gods, the Fae, and the cosy cabin room, the roasting meat over the hearth, the sight of himself sleeping on the sofa and how terrible he looked...

The song in his dream, the sound of her voice was like a thread that he followed back to consciousness, the sound shifting from ethereal and haunting to solid and real. His brow furrowed and his dark lashes fluttered open on her, giving himself a moment to wake, to realise that she had come back when she had every chance to leave..

"That song.." he rumbled, his voice gritty and weak. He let out a deep sigh. "I've heard it before.. What is it?.." he asked curiously. It'd been a song he'd heard in those waking moments, countless times, though every time he had awoken it had died away to silence, except today.

 

[Maeve]

Maeve gave a soft curse as her knife sliced across her knuckle when she jerked at the sound of his voice. She went to raise it to her lips but the tiny cut was already healed before she could suck at it.

"It's a song my grandmother used to sing to me when I was little," she explained awkwardly, her cheeks heating at the thought he had heard her singing. To distract herself she went back to finely chopping the remaining vegetables they would need for the evening and scooping them into a large pot. "It's about a young girl who meets a faerie prince in the woods, she falls in love with him, and he takes her off to his faerie palace. She's happy for a while but soon she misses home and asks to visit her family, but the Prince denies her and gets angry at her. As time goes on she gets sadder and sadder and ends up taking her life rather than live in a perfect world where she is lonely," it was an epic ballad that went through different emotions; love, excitement, fear and loss.

Maeve picked up the pot and brought it over to the flame, carefully turning the meat and then hanging the pot off the cast iron hook that hung from the great hearth. At the same time she took off another kettle which had been boiling and was now letting out a low whistle. Carefully she took it back to the kitchen area and poured herself and him a cup of the tea.

"Here," she wandered over and set the hot mug on the table beside his couch before retreating to the other couch with her own cup.

 

[Lorcán]

His brow furrowed briefly at the sharp sting across his knuckle, and as she spoke he watched her. He found it odd that they sang songs to their young, it was a sort of nurture and love that he'd never known, but perhaps there were Fae with similar fond memories of their childhoods. He didn't know, but it sounded nice anyway.

The particular story that unfolded had him grinning lazily, though little by little it melted from his face as it ended with loneliness and death. "I'm sure the faerie Prince would have been heartbroken." he commented quietly and rubbed at his chest, as though trying to soothe an invisible pain. Lórcan watched her in silence as she pottered around, some of that smile returning to his lips, and yet his dark eyes remained morose.

"Thank you." he rumbled, pulling himself up to sit as he reached for his tea, trying not to grimace too much. He held the cup between his cold hands, staring into the steaming cup for a moment before lifting his gaze to her.

"You won't need to come to Laigin.." he told her quietly, lifting the cup to blow away the rising steam before taking a sip.

 

[Maeve]

Maeve watched every move he made. From the subtle tug of his lips and the creasing of his eyes, to the way he flinched when he reached for his cup of tea. Occasionally her eyes flickered to his torso where he had shown her the poison from his father and her own brows creased into a frown. It wasn't that she cared whether he lived or died, she told herself, it was that it was hurting her. If he really had given up a part of his soul to keep her alive as he so claimed would she die too if he did?

She blinked at his words and left such thoughts on a shelf.

"Is that your home? In the Faerie world? What is it... like?" her head canted to one side with curiosity. In the legends they said the faerie worlds were full of milk and honey, everything was always in bloom and beautiful, and you could never want for anything.

 

[Lorcán]

"Hm." he mumbled mid sip and nodded. "There are several different courts, each have their own dwellings, each very different, all beautiful." he huffed quietly. "Everything is just much more... Vibrant?" he shrugged and looked into his cup as he thought of his home. It was a place his father had certainly tainted for him, he'd made it feel like a prison and at times he had failed to see the beauty in it, but now that he knew he'd never see it again, he pined for it.

"I am Prince of the Autumn Court. It's within the Ixchel Wilds, but protected from mortals and such. I am sure you'd have liked it there, for a short time at least." he frowned, thinking of her song. He cleared his throat as he set his tea down, his hand rubbing at the back of his neck as he gave her an awkward look.

"I did intend on taking you there, a long time ago. Not any more. You wouldn't be safe and my conscience is heavy enough without adding your life to it."

 

[Maeve]

Several different courts...

Her head swam at the implications of just how many fae there were in this world. She had been so secluded on her little island that she hadn't known the half of what lay beyond their shores in terms of other humans let alone the other races she had met since. Elves, orcs, trolls, centaurs...it seemed impossible that more fae could exist and somehow fit in this world with all the others. Just how large was it? A thrill ran through her at the possibility of finding out one day.

Maeve choked on her tea.

"A prince?" she wheezed, setting the cup down and thumping her chest. Her parents had always called him a Prince but she had thought it was more like... a title for respect. His next words made her brows pull together. "Because of your father..?" he eyes flickered to his torso.

 

[Lorcán]

Lórcan's brow quirked at her as she choked, wincing a little at that thump on her chest.. "I thought you knew that.." he admitted a little awkwardly and gave a single nod in confirmation.

"It's not a simple thing to explain.. Life with my father was never easy, he's not an easy man to get along with and prefers cruelty to kindness. He never forgave me for splitting my soul for you, he resented me enough before then but after he knew I'd only ever be weaker than him. I could never grow strong enough to challenge him, not with a severed soul. That I'd lessen myself for a mortal was unacceptable, I was his shame, and he found ways of punishing me almost every day since.." his jaw tightened and he let his head fall below his shoulders, his forearms braced on his knees as he drew in a deep breath.

"The curse on this wound, I could heal it, if my soul was intact. But to take it back I'd have to kill you. He was testing me. Whether I killed you and took it back, or whether I die.. He wins. That's the way it is." his knuckles paled and he realised his talons had grown and sliced into his palms..He growled quietly to himself and looked up at her, his expression one of exhaustion.

"So.. It seems I'm here to die." he forced a smile.

 

[Maeve]

For the first time in her life, Maeve was speechless.

His father sounded like the fae from the stories; cruel, strong and cold. That a father could dislike his own son was bad enough, though she could see how it might happen if the two were so different, but to outright hate him? To put a curse on him that would potentially kill him? It was barbaric and put a foul taste in her mouth. Yet that wasn't the worst bit. The worst bit was that he was dying for her. Because of what he had done for two parents who had begged him to save her life. She had judged him so harshly and quickly without first knowing all the information about the deal. If she had known he had given her a part of his very soul would she had thought him less of a monster?

"He sounds like a dick," she huffed, trying to clear the startling feelings of guilt stirring inside of her. "But you're not going to die, faeries don't die that easily," she would know, she had been searching for a way to kill him for a year. "So there has to be a way, what's the loophole?" even the best fae deals had loopholes.

 

[Lorcán]

Lórcan laughed aloud and gripped his side, but even the pain couldn't stop him from coughing out another chuckle.. "I'd have paid quite a lot of gold to see you call him that." he mused, gold dancing with mirth in his dark eyes as he smiled at her with a sigh.

"There's no loophole, Maeve. We don't die easily, but the poison has been an effective one on many of my kind before me. When it reaches my heart, that's it." his hand ran through his dark waves and he sat back into the pillows with a groan.

"Let's just.. Not think about it. Tell me more of your stories." he smirked.

 

[Maeve]

Despite her best efforts the corner of her lips twitched at his laugh. She could almost, almost, forget what he was when he did it. Like she had been able to forget Arun was an elf when he had showed kindness instead of taking a whip to her back like the others. The morose thoughts made her smile fade, especially when he went on to say there was no loophole. She had never been one to accept her fate and she didn't plan on accepting this one either.

But she would drop it for now.

Mae sighed and ran a hand through her hair, absentmindedly untangling a bit of twig which had got caught there on her hunt.

"Stories from my people or my life?" She didn't think he would particularly like either.