Private Tales Ash and Iron

[Maeve]

The fire brought out the wild, crazed look in the endless black of Mercutio's eyes. He even laughed as the flames lapped at him despite the contrasting way his face contorted in discomfort as the heat rose and flames licked at his skin.

"Does she belong to your Court though?" he hissed through gritted teeth, spittle flying in the face of the prince who held him. "She seems to belong as much to Summer as she does to yours," another chilling laugh bounced around the room. He might have gone on to say more if Maeve didn't cut in in a voice so faint it was barely audible above the conversation the two male's were having.

"Lórcan...?" Doubt etched every syllable of her question but the fog was fading faster now Mercutio's attention was focused on himself. The bond shimmered through the remaining mist and she threw herself at it desperately. Too exhausted for shielding a tumbling wave of emotions went rushing down that bridge of starlight; pain, fear, exhaustion, relief, guilt. Apologies clamoured for attention, for asking him to leave and for not coming to find him sooner. Everything she felt at feeling him even when all she could manage aloud was. "Please... I want to get down... I want to go..." home.

 

[Lorcán]

"She is mine." the Prince answered in more growl than voice. He'd reached to take the male's throat with his own hand, his claws driving into his neck, intent on ripping it out before Maeve spoke. He froze at her words, and what she felt, at the rushing waves of light. His chest ached and his grip loosened slightly.

"Let her down, right now, or I fucking end you and decorate these walls with your skin." he said far more calmly than he felt.

 

[Maeve]

Mercutio let out a soft curse as he was released and rubbed at the red welts rising around his neck. Sourly he glanced between Maeve and the Prince as if debating the risk of keeping her for himself; the summer fae had clearly been enjoying his new toy a little too much. After a slight hesitation he stalked over to the chains and produced a key from inside his vest. Careful not to touch the iron himself he undid the clasp and let Maeve fall to the hard cobblestones beneath.

Maeve let out a hiss of air as new pain washed through her.

"I'd love to stick around and chat," the fae purred as he took a quick step back. "But, things to do, you understand," before fading out, that cheshire grin the last thing to vanish into the black of the walled cell.

 

[Lorcán]

It was everything not to end him where he stood, but the moment Maeve was free he went to her, scooping her into his arms without a second's hesitation, and winnowing from the Summer Court. His wings caught hold of the air and carried them higher with every strong beat. He couldn't speak, he was so busy trying to shove down the fury that burned like acid in his chest, a thousand bad ideas rushing through his mind at once.

He held her tightly to his chest, his arms wrapped firmly around her as he sent her every ounce of soothing calm he could, light running over his skin as he attempted to heal her wounds. His heart was thundering against his ribs to the point of pain as he looked down at her.

How had they found her? He was going to enjoy killing that bastard and any others who had anything to do with this. Their cards were marked, but for now, he'd get her home.

 

[Maeve]

Mae couldn't stop shaking even with his warmth surrounding her. She wasn't convinced that this wasn't one of those dreams she had had and she refused to have come this far to give them any information. But there had never been the feeling of the bond before. Had she blurted something out? Had they been able to find it? The thoughts were almost feverish.

Feeling the weight of his gaze on her she slowly looked up and then away. Too many questions were crowded there and in her head. Instead she let herself relax against him fully; if it was a dream she would make the most of not being awake.

"Where..." her breath was riddled with pain, the iron slowing her healing down to a crawl. "Are we going?" He always took her to the cabin in her dreams but this flight felt longer.

 

[Lorcán]

He could feel the dread and confusion. It only spurred his anger. How long had they had her there, and what had they put her through? Guilt tore through him and he held her tighter, trying to keep her as warm as he could.

"The Orchard. Home. You'll be safe there." he answered stiffly. "Rest, Mae. We'll be there soon." he assured her. He flew as fast as he could, his wings tilting to send them both into a smooth dive toward the ocean, whispering a quiet "I've got you." before giving her a chance to be afraid. The moment he crossed through the wards, the Island came into view, vibrant and serene, and Lorcán made straight for the mountain side at the heart of it, where his home was perched.

He alighted gently on the courtyard and rushed up the steps, the front doors swinging open at his arrival. "Bring a healer to my chambers!" his voice commanded, echoing through the halls as he climbed the central staircase and strode along the corridor to his room. The room was light and airy, the sun casting a rosy hue to stream through the archways that led out onto the balcony. With another few steps up to his bed he set her down amongst the nest of pillows and soft sheets.

The healers, two puca females named Cindi and Ravan were already shuffling into the room behind him. Cindi set a hand on Lorcán's shoulder as she looked him over whilst Ravan assessed Maeve's condition. "Are you hurt My Lord?.." she asked, her words so softly spoken they were almost whispered.

"No please see to her." he answered firmly, to which the woman bowed and turned to offer a warm smile to Maeve.

"You're safe now, dear."

 

[Maeve]

Home...

It wasn't her home but she could feel it through the bond, that sense of warmth that came from feeling safe and belonging. Mutely she nodded in understanding though a thousand questions buzzed in her mind like hazy fireflies. Hadn't he said his home was dangerous? Was she safe because she wasn't fully human anymore? Or was this somewhere else? Her stomach lurched as they dove and she turned to press her face into his chest and ground herself, wrapping the scent, the feeling of him around her. The rage she could sense through the bond was like an approaching storm but it was comforting. They were little details Mercucio couldn't replicate.

Blood slicked his shirt from the multitude of wounds and began to seep into the silk mountain of throws and pillows almost instantly. She shuddered at the comfort so at odds with the iron that had been clamped around her for how long?

He left four times... food twice... the thought drifted across her mind in her lucid state. Two days? Maybe three? Hanging from that cell and then there had been before that... the band of humans who had drugged her floated into hazy focus then was lost as her mind clouded over once more.

When a feminine hand touched her forehead and her eyes fluttered open to see inhuman eyes she panicked. The magic she hadn't been able to touch with iron around her wrists sluggishly leapt to her aid and light exploded into the room as she tried to hastily get off the bed. No more! No more fae! Have to... have to get... away... The thoughts were akin to those of an abused and cornered animal. She couldn't distinguish between those who were trying to help and those who had hurt her. There was only one single thought that was clear through it all; escape.

 

[Lorcán]

He looked down at the blood on his shirt, his fingertips smearing across it so that he could see the shock of crimson against his olive skin. His hand trembled, and his other hand ran into his unruly dark hair to grip at it. He'd been drunk for three days, meanwhile she was being tortured because of him. She had needed him and he was at the bottom of a bottle or five. His chest tightened and he felt his breathing labour with panic, though with the explosion of light he realised that the panic was hers.

The two puca stumbled back from the bed, but Lorcán went to her, reaching for her shoulders with a gentle but firm grasp as he sat on the bed to pull her back onto it. "Mae..." he cooed softly at her, wrapping an arm around her and reaching to place a hand against her cheek. "Look at me.." he rumbled, trying to bury down the anger that flared at seeing her so frightened. He hushed her gently, and calmed himself in effort to do the same for her..

'I'm here. Nothing is going to hurt you here, I swear it. They're kind, and just trying help you..' he thought quietly to her, the voice in her mind like rolling thunder. 'Rest.. I'll stay right here.'

 

[Maeve]

"Get off me!" Maeve cried as someone grabbed her shoulders and struggled against his grip like a kitten as he pulled her back towards the bed. Her eyes were as wide as a startled does and her breathing came in great hyperventilating gasps. It took a moment to realise who exactly held her, who it was speaking to her both out loud and down that sparkling bond. The panic retreated just a fraction - enough that the fists she had brought up to fend him off relaxed. Her eyes flickered between his as she desperately searched for a hint he wasn't real but even the tiny little flecks of brown and green were there in his dark gold gaze.

Her face crumpled and she suddenly burst into great heaving sobs.

She wasn't sure if it was the relief, the fact she still couldn't sort out her own thoughts, or that a part of her still thought this was all one cruel trick. Slowly, she slid forward to bury her face in the crook of his neck as she cried and cried and cried.

I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry.

 

[Lorcán]

He'd let her hit him as much as she pleased, but the moment she broke down and let herself fall against him, he felt his heart crack. His arms wrapped around her, holding her there, rocking gently as he stroked at her hair, his lips pressed to her head as he continued to whisper his reassurances to her.

Lorcán wouldn't let go. Not until she told him to, it might've been another three days but he'd stay here in bed, holding her against his chest offering every bit of comfort that he could. He'd told her that he wouldn't step into her mind without her permission, but he couldn't handle how much pain she was in. Until she was comfortable enough to allow his healers to see to her wounds, a wisp of smoky shadow rose from his skin to be breathed in by her with the purpose of taking the pain out of her mind. Meanwhile light danced along his skin, offering warmth and ease.

'Hush.' He frowned..'You've nothing to be sorry for.'

 

[Maeve]

Maeve wasn't aware she was breathing anything in. As her limbs grew heavier and the panic and the pain subsided she put it down to simply crying herself out or exhaustion setting in. Considering how she had been drugged before her capture, it was probably a good thing she didn't know this feeling wasn't natural. She found her eyes closing and slowly, as the minutes crawled by, her sobs died into quiet little hiccups though even then she didn't dare let go of him. The only thing she had convinced herself of was that he was real and if she clung tightly to him maybe she could make her mind believe she was safe to.

Tentatively, the healers crept forward again to see about her wounds and this time she didn't push them away or flee, though he no doubt felt her begin to tense at a strangers hands on her skin.

"I didn't tell them anything," she whispered against his chest.

 

[Lorcán]

"I know.." he whispered into her hair and rested his chin atop her head, his fingers still idly stroking through her hair and over her cheek. He didn't know what they'd wanted to know or how they'd found her, but now wasn't the time to get into such details. He wasn't sure he could handle much more guilt either.

"We don't need to talk about that." he rumbled quietly, drawing in a deep breath and letting it tumble from his lips in a sigh as the healers approached again. He gave a gentle nod to them, and didn't dare loosen his grip on her. "Let me tell you about Endora." he whispered, and did so.

He told her of the island and the haven that it had become, of how it was protected, of the fae folk who lived here, of the new city named Azora and how blue it's waters and falls were. He told her of the constantly shedding cherry and pear blossoms, of the Silverwood that's plants and insects seemed to glow in the darkness. Of the white sandy coves and crystal waters and the many caves he hadn't yet explored. And he told her of the Orchard and of the many fruit trees that surrounded it, and the sweet perfume that they gave on a warm day.

"This was what I wanted to build for you. A place where you'd be safe, and where you belong." he looked down at her. He wanted to remind her that it was her choice whether or not she stayed here, but the thought of her leaving, the thought of something more happening to her, he couldn't let himself say it.

"When you're feeling better I'll show you around." he smiled.

 

[Maeve]

She wondered if he was aware that as he described this wonderland that flickers of images drifted through the bond along with the adoration and hope he held for this budding new world. Away from his father and fear. Her heart hurt with how happy that made him and the excitement he felt to begin a new life. A faint smile tugged at her lips despite the fear and other emotions churning in her stomach. His words at least had their desired effect; he distracted her long enough for the two other fae to gently uncurl her from the foetal position she had taken up against him and heal some of her wounds. Iron-made injuries always took longer to heal, she remembered reading that once, but they managed to at least knit the wounds shut so she stopped bleeding onto him and the sheets. Bruises still mottled her skin and welts of the wounds remained like angry streaks of red paint but her breathing sounded less wet and she had stopped shuddering from the pain.

"Rest is the best treatment for wounds like this," one of them said softly to her after Lorcán had finished talking. Maeve looked at her with dull, tired eyes but the fear had at least gone from them even if wariness still lingered.

"Would you like us to run you a bath?" the other asked. Maeve was having a hard time telling them apart and her eyes flickered between them as though the question were a trap before glancing up at Lorcán for the answer.

"Will you stay?"

 

[Lorcán]

Despite the fear and pain they both felt, there was some form of peace to be found in the walls coming down and that she was here, her head in that same spot that it had been when he’d realised.

He was pushing that simmering rage further and further down, knowing he’d need an outlet. Not yet.

He could feel the two puca females eyeing him and sharing curious glances, his jaw tightening as he arched a brow as though to tell them to keep their thoughts to themselves. He had known the sisters for many years, and though he had always treated them kindly, they weren’t too used to this side of him. He’d been a damned mess since he’d got here.

The prince gave a small smile to Cindi as she offered to draw a bath and he looked down at Mae, his thumb drawing over her cheek as he nodded in answer to her question.

“Of course, as long as you need.”

 

[Maeve]

Maeve scanned his eyes for any hint of a lie even when she could feel the earnestness in his answer through the bond. Eventually she looked back to the sisters and silently nodded her agreement. When they bowed and left through a side room she assumed led to the bathroom, Maeve relaxed again. Even if the last few days hadn't made her such a mess of a huma-- mess of a woman she would have still been disturbed by the two sisters. The only fae she had ever seen were the High Fae who looked like gods and goddesses but still human. These two looked nothing like that with their animal traits.

A pleasant silence stretched between them. One of the sisters had flung open the large doors that led outside and a summer-warm breeze blew in the sounds of birds singing and she could just make out the quiet murmur of soft feminine voices from the adjacent room. There had been a million and one things she had wanted to say to him if she ever saw him again and now not one of those thoughts presented itself to her.

"This isn't where I thought you would live," she said eventually in a quiet voice. Mae hadn't moved an inch from where she was pressed against him but her eyes had begun to wander the room, her natural curiosity that had gotten her so far into every single bit of trouble she had ever been in overriding even the deep trauma she was still processing.

 

[Lorcán]

He hadn't really considered just how different everything would be for her here, and he made a mental note to take it into consideration. "They're a kind of Puca, a species of fae." he explained quietly, sensing her uncertainty about the sisters. "Cindi and Ravan. They enjoy making a fuss." he smiled with his eyes. "You don't need to fear anyone you meet here.." he told her, curling a lock of her crimson hair around her ear and noticing the pointed tip of it. He caught himself staring and cleared his throat.

"Oh?" his cheeks dimpled as he grinned at her. "Did you picture somewhere dark and dangerous? That I hang upside down when I sleep?" he mused in jest and followed her gaze around the room. Most of the exterior wall was just open archways that led onto his balcony, sheer white curtains blowing softly in the breeze.

"Do you like it?" he asked her curiously as he shifted slightly, keeping her in his arms as he got up to take her through to the wash room. The bath sat in front of another large archway that overlooked Azora and the land beyond it and he stood to admire it for a moment before setting her down in a large, comfortable armchair by the large, stone tub. The was steaming hot and the scent of jasmine and lavender perfumed the room. The candles had been lit too, and Lorcán smirked to himself.

Some fresh, chiffon clothes and a robe had been left presented on a chair as well as piles of fresh towels, and a large plate of fruit and some cool lemon water had been left on a tray within arms reach of the water. He laughed under his breath and shrugged. "See..Fuss." he smiled.

 

[Maeve]

Puca... Mae tucked that bit of information away quietly. She hadn't thought there were other types of fae which was ridiculous now she came to think on it properly and was about to ask a follow up question when his comment about hanging upside down had her throwing him a dark look; far more like her usual self. The indignant squeak as he picked her up was further proof she was slowly but surely escaping the fog around her mind. What had she pictured his home to look like? The thought of him hanging upside down did make her smile just a touch but she dismissed the notion.

He gave her time to answer by taking her into the bathroom where she could gawp some more. Was everywhere in this place so open? Despite the condescending tone in her own mind she didn't mind it. After three days in that cell she was glad of there being so many possible exits and another knot loosened in her chest.

"A castle," she blurted after tears threatened to burn her eyes at the act of kindness. "I imagined you lived in one of those big, stone castles with tall spires," her cheeks heated at the admission now she saw how far from the truth it was. Gingerly she pushed herself out of the armchair and onto her feet. Her legs wobbled with the fact she hadn't used them for days but she managed to stay upright as she peeled off the dirty dark blue top with its once-fine gauzy material and the floor length skirt. She shivered as the wind touched her sensitive bare skin and then she quickly clambered into the tub.

A satisfied, long sigh escaped her lips.

 

[Lorcán]

Lorcán had felt trapped for most of his life. He wanted less corners to be backed into, more room to breathe, a view that let him see what was happening on all sides of the island. He wanted to live in the skies and watch the birds soar passed, buffeted by the lofty winds. It was perfect, in his mind.

"Hm, not even Laigin was a castle like that." he smiled, awkwardly turning himself to give her some privacy as she undressed, lifting the lids of jars to smell the bath salts and let his fingers hover over a candle, the tips of his fingers borrowing the flame and giving it back just to give himself something to do.

As she sighed, he carefully turned to ensure she was in the tub, and he sat himself down on the floor, his arms encircling his knees, giving her a moment to settle in before his brow rose. "How do you feel?.." he asked, stupidly. "Are your wounds bothering you?.." he added as though to clarify that he meant physically. Mentally, emotionally, he knew that was an all together different story.

 

[Maeve]

Her head tilted back to rest against the edge of the stone tub and her chin just grazed the waters surface. It was the perfect depth for a bath, at least in her opinion, and despite her height she could stretch out fully to luxuriate in the feeling. She could almost swear she felt the tiny grains of grime peel off her. When he asked his question though she opened her eyes to stare up at the ceiling. There seemed little point in lying to him when she had no energy nor ability to shield her shrouded mind.

"A little," she admitted quietly and ran her fingers over the tops of the mound of bubbles bobbing towards her. She scooped up a handful and blew to set them flying. "They don't feel so... raw, but it hurts to move too much. My wrists are the worst," where the iron cuffs had been on her skin for three days straight. Even after the healing they looked black and scorched. She hid them under the water so she didn't have to see them.

"I'm sorry I every brought ironnor Ash near you, I didn't realise..." she bit down on her lower lip and dipped her chin beneath the water sullenly. If she had known would it have made any difference? She was surprised at herself to find her heart answering yes; even enemies didn't need to suffer a painful death.

"And I do," she blurted, shaking the shadows from her eyes. "Like it, this, I mean. Your home," she gestured to the room and blamed her red cheeks on the heat of the water.

 

[Lorcán]

Lorcán gripped his hands together to stop them from shaking with rage, his eyes closing for a brief moment under a furrowing brow as he focused, but his very bones seemed to tremble under the weight of crushing fury.

“Don’t apologise. It was the wisest thing you could have done. You see now, why..” he frowned. “Fae understand it better than any, that’s why we use it against one another. Three times I’ve been shot with an ash arrow from a fae bow.” He snorted and ran his hand down his face.

“He won’t ever hurt you again. My brothers and I will deal with the Summer Court..” he growled quietly. He’d have to get word to Ama and try to find out what the fuck was going on.

He looked up as she blurted and gave an easy grin at her fluster. “Good.. I’m glad you do.” He smiled, watching as the bubbles danced around her. He let out a breath and lay down, staring up at the ceiling. A blank canvas, he thought, and surprised himself with the urge to paint it..

“I’m sorry this happened to you.” He said after a long moment.

 

[Maeve]

Maeve's lips twisted at the thought of him being shot with anything that would cause him pain like this. She had thought the beatings and abuse she had suffered at the hands of the nomadic elves bad enough but this... this had made that look like child's play. Her fingers gently ran over the scarring on her wrists beneath the water as she thought about it and what little glow had returned to her skin faded. It faded even more when she heard his growl and the threat there. She would have had to have been locked in thick layers of ice not to have felt his barely contained anger from the moment he had arrived in that cell nor how it stalked now beneath his skin like a caged cat.

After his apology, Maeve remained silent for several minutes as she tried to puzzle out what it was she should say. She wanted to tell him it wasn't his fault but she knew no words would soothe the guilt she could feel radiating from him almost as painfully as the anger.

The coming conversation loomed before them and with a deep breath she plunged into it.

"They said I was a part of the Summer Court... That... he said he had felt me using my magic and recognised it," the water felt cold and she cautiously used a trickle of that fire to warm it up again close to boiling. It didn't seem to bother her though. Quietly she weaves her fingers through the water as she tried to process everything that had happened. "I think they were just going to bring me back thinking I was a Changeling or something... But then he said he had... smelt you on me," she still couldn't look at him as she spoke and her voice wavered. "He wanted to know what you did and when I said I didn't know he seemed to think I was some spy, he began asking all these questions about you and the Autumn Court and someone called Midir--" her eyes screwed shut.

 

[Lorcán]

"You're not." Lorcán answered quickly as she began, his muscles tensing as he bristled like a threatened wolf. His jaw clenched so tightly he was lucky his teeth didn't crack under the pressure, his temper at boiling point and now a physical pain that coursed through his body like fire in his blood. He forced himself to close his eyes and breathe in the aroma of lavender, but all he could smell was her and it caused him to tense in a whole different way.

His eyes snapped open at the way she retold what Mercutio had said to her about scents and he grimaced slightly. How fucking careless he had been with her. He huffed as he sat back up, shifting toward the tub and resting his arms across it's rim and his chin atop his wrist as he looked at her, his eyes dark with pain and remorse, with yet more guilt.

"Midir is my father, King of the Autumn Court. I didn't realise that they were after information.." And if he were being really truthful, he had no idea what the hell had been going on in general these past months thanks to his alcohol induced oblivion.

"You don't need to worry about any of that. You're safe here.. For as long as you choose to stay." he frowned, knowing how important choice was to her despite feeling like he wanted to bind her to this island and never allow her to leave. The possessiveness he felt, the need to protect her, were the very reasons he'd shut down, not knowing who she was with and only torturing himself over the thoughts. The fact that he couldn't protect her eating away at him...

"I should've got there sooner." he frowned and swallowed, his dark eyes glistening as he reached out hesitantly to graze his knuckles over her cheek. "I'm so fucking sorry, Mae.." his voice cracked and shuddered. He could still smell the alcohol on him, she'd no doubt see the blurred images that flashed through his mind. He didn't deserve her forgiveness, and so he refrained from asking for it.

 

[Maeve]

A wave of hot, soapy water sloshed suddenly over his head.

"If anyone deserves a pity party right now it's me," she sniffed and tried to school her face to keep from showing any sign of amusement at the look of shock on his face. The truth was Maeve couldn't handle the waves of guilt that washed over her through the bond. Not least because she didn't believe he had anything to be sorry for but because of how badly it was hurting him to believe it. Delicately she wound a lock of his wet hair around her finger and then shyly cupped his cheek.

"There was nothing you could have done until that... stuff was out of my system enough to send something through the bond," even if it had been pain on an instinct. She gave a small huffing laugh. "It was my own fault for trusting gypsy's in the first place."

She gave a sigh and shifted herself carefully in the stone tub so that her face was level with his on the edge of the bath, her forehead resting against his and their noses just touching.

"The only thing I could think about was how I regretted leaving things with you, and that if I died that was the last memory you would have of me."

 

[Lorcán]

Lorcán's eyes squeezed shut against the soapy water, his mouth falling open with an incredulous gasp. He shook his head vigorously, his dark hair whipping the water free like a wet dog. "I guess I deserved that.." he grumbled against his bicep as he wiped his face on his shirt and rested his chin back down with some semblance of a smirk.

His brow furrowed as she spoke of gypsies and 'stuff', a sedative he assumed, and he'd been about to ask her who and where they were as another lance of anger seared through him. But then she was moving closer to him and the rage in his expression melted away, his eyes on her until their foreheads pressed together and he sighed, letting his eyes close. He'd held her close when they'd flown here, held her again when his healers were tending to her, but this was different. This was what he'd been aching for since the day he left her in that cabin. She had come to him, to whisper of her regrets and take back her dismissal.

He swallowed, his hand combing through her hair and settling on the nape of her neck where he squeezed gently. "You didn't die.." he muttered quietly, not daring to so much as think on it for a moment. "And I have other memories that I'd choose before that one." he smiled, breathing her in and letting his heart drum it's delight in his chest.

Lorcán didn't bother to hide the emotions that ran through him in that moment. His thoughts were of how painfully he'd missed her, how soothing her scent was, how badly he wanted to ask her to stay, but he didn't speak. He just....breathed.

 

[Maeve]

She had been so afraid he would push her away after her harsh words and the nasty way she had strangled their bond in order to survive on her own, but here he was... Her heart skipped and tripped over itself at the rush of his emotions which answered her own. Tentatively she let go of the last scraps of control she had had on her shield and let him feel her too.

Iridescent joy sparkled like the suns rays off a calm lake, despite the pain, along with relief and overriding it all a sense of home the likes of which she hadn't felt in two years. No wonder she hadn't wanted to go back to the Isle.

"This bond is more than just because we saved one another's lives isn't it?" She whispered into the gap between their lips.