Private Tales Ash and Iron

A private roleplay only for those invited by the first writer
"Like the puca." he repeated, making a mental note to show her the library of books when they returned to the Orchard.

His dark brow arched at her as she tucked a silver leaf into his hair, though he was unable to hold back his own grin in response to hers. He caught himself staring again, though thankfully her question reminded him to return his attention to the flight path ahead just before they reached the craggy cliff faces, and his wings beat hard as he pulled them upward.

"He seemed happy to let me have it. It's strange, I felt like a prisoner in my own home and yet he seemed pleased that I wanted to leave. It's a test, thought. So long as I manage not to burn it to the ground or to allow my people to kill one another or die of starvation, he won't intervene.. He's only allowed here on one day a year." And it now bothered him that he didn't know which day. His grip tightened on Mae. He'd have to ensure she was nowhere near this place when his father turned up.

His wings opened and fluttered as they lowered onto the grassy meadow on the cliff top. It was the highest peak in Endora and a pretty little space, he discovered. He set her down and looked around, through the copse of trees that surrounded the little clearing, listening, smelling, sensing. Ensuring that they were alone.

"The island was overrun with the worst kinds of fae creatures. I suppose the old bastard knew that. I...We destroyed most of them." he frowned, thinking of the mess he'd been in and how he'd been glad of the distraction. He'd fought himself to near death.

"But, there are many places to hide.." he let out a huff and smiled down at her.

"Do.. you like it?..."
 
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Her legs wobbled when her feet touched solid earth.

"It's natural for a King to want to test his son if he hopes that's who will take over in the future," at least that was how it had worked in the mortal world. Though from what she already knew of the Erlking he was just as likely to test his son through torture and delight in it the entire time. She pushed how angry that thought made her from her mind, and exactly what she planned on saying to him when he visited, and instead shakily made her way to one of the colourful trees in the grove. Her legs grew a little stronger with every step and by the time she came to a stand still again she felt like she had the energy to rock onto the balls of her feet to pluck one of the delicate pink blooms.

"It's beautiful," she smiled, turning back to him with the flower twirling between her fingers. "It's going to be fun exploring this place," she turned back to the tree and tracked the route she would take up into its branches when she was less sick.

"You did so much when you... went back home and I just learnt how to play games and dance," she shook her head with a laugh.
 
Lorcan let out a quiet bark of laughter at that, his fingers running into his hair as his head shook gently. "My father has too much shame in me to think me capable of taking his place. He'd rather kill me trying than allow someone so shameful and pathetic to take his throne. No, I'm sure my father will remain there for centuries to come, I'm just.. I just needed this." he breathed. "I don't want his throne or his lands. I sure as fuck don't want his title or to take the hunts."

He watched her with curiosity as she moved, still trying to grasp the reality that she had accepted him. He felt like a stalking wolf as she smiled and laughed, the scent of her warming his blood and casting urges through his mind and shuddering through his body. He fought them and swallowed, his wings spreading out to catch him as he flopped backwards into the grass.

"It sounds like you had far more fun than I.." he answered grimly, shame filling him at the memory of every day he'd spent without her, or more the lack of memory and presence of gruelling flashbacks that he tried to keep in his mind alone, though he could never be too sure now.

His gaze fell on her face. Even upside down she was stunning, and he grinned up at her with the thought for a brief moment.

"Where did you go?...." he asked carefully.
 
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The bloom turned once more between her fingers.

"The Silk Road."

Maeve had never heard of it before and had found it really, almost entirely, by chance. The giant migratory road that travellers took from East to West across the continents. She had never seen anything like it. Different races, the sheer number of people, the different walks of life that had brought them to this same physical path. It had been like a drug after the cabin. She tied the flower into her braid beside the black feather and made her way slowly over to where he sat. With care, she took a seat next to him and then lay back in the grass too.

"I just wanted to... see everything," her voice was a husky murmur. "I didn't know where I belonged anymore but then there was this whole road of people who didn't belong to any one place, they just travelled that road and belonged to the other travellers."
 
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"Ah.." he answered with a short nod. He'd known the road, hell a few who'd travelled it had wound up in various fae courts.

His wing stretched out and curled around her as he stared up at the sun blushed clouds with a sigh.. "I know. I never really belonged anywhere either.." he frowned. "Here I do. Now I do." he glanced at her. "I hope, at least in time that you will too.. Though I am sorry for dragging you out of the life you had." he frowned.

"My father made it abundantly clear what he thought of my... tolerance, for humans. I had no intention on ever bothering you, despite the deal I made your parents. I didn't know any of this would happen.. But I'll do everything I can to make it up to you." he promised quietly.
 
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Despite the temperate summer evening the warmth of his wing at her back was welcome. Tiredness ate at her and her body trying to slowly heal itself had her on the edge of a fever. She rolled onto her side so that she could watch his profile as he spoke and also cocoon herself in the warmth of his wing a little more. The idle thought of her own wings floated across her mind once more but the stifled yawn she gave was enough to stop her from even attempting it.

"What's done is done, Lorcán," she said and grazed her fingers down his cheek before tilting his face towards her with two fingers beneath his chin. "If you hadn't have done that deal I wouldn't have had a life to be dragged out of," she had resented him for years for it, resented her parents too for their selfish deal which had robbed her of her choices. Time on the Silk Road with all those travellers had given her a greater perspective.

"Why don't we just... forget the deals and who owes who what and treat this as a new beginning?" she offered a half smile then let her hand drop from his face and held it out to him for a shake instead. "My name's Maeve, and it's really nice to meet you."
 
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He let her guide his gaze back to her face, because she was a far prettier thing to look at. A sigh tumbled out and his lips curled at her. He hated being a terrible person, he hated who he had to be because of who his father was, he hated having people (who weren't enemies) fear him because of the things he'd done and the masks he had to wear. He'd frightened her once already, and he never wanted to do it again, he never wanted her to see that side of him.

Forgetting would be nice. A new beginning..

Lorcán glanced down at her hand and his lips curled into a wider grin as he reached to take it, her fingers dainty in his hand. He didn't shake it, instead he brought it to his lips and pressed them to her knuckles, his dark eyes on hers and his voice a low rumble.

"Lorcán.." he answered, leaving out the titles he was used to using in such a formal greeting. "It is my greatest pleasure to meet you, My Lady." he smiled, his wing curling her a little closer. "And might I say, if it is not to bold, that I have never looked upon an emerald that might rival your eyes." he winked, his lips twitching playfully.
 
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Those eyes widened a fraction at his compliment and her cheeks stained a red that would have almost made her hair jealous. She wasn't used to flowery language, least of all directed towards her. That it came from him, a creature so beautiful it made her bones ache, was unfathomable to her still mortal mind and head. She shifted with the gentle nudge of his wing that put them so close together only a breath could pass between them and she wondered if he would be able to feel the frantic way her heart tripped and stumbled over itself. It was a wonder she didn't have to remind herself to breathe.

"Flattery won't get you anywhere," she lied with a smile. Tentatively her hand came up as though she meant to run her fingers through his hair but instead with great care she traced along the curve of his other wing. It was so soft... "So, Lorcán, what do you like to do for fun?"

She had heard girls ask those things on dates before.
 
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He felt it, but his heart was no less erratic. It was ridiculous how nervous she made him. He'd never been nervous around a female in his life and yet, he knew that one wrong move and she might reject him. He'd never met a female who had it within her power to break him like she could, and she absolutely terrified him.

He'd been about to offer some cheeky retort to her comment when he felt her fingertips on his wing and his breath caught in his throat. He swallowed and cleared his throat, his shoulders rolling a shudder from them as he tried not to appear as flustered as he felt by the touch.

"Fun?.." he asked awkwardly, rubbing at the tingling skin at the back of his neck. He'd been drunk for most of the past few decades. He'd been numb. He might have looked like he'd been having 'fun' to most people, but he'd have been lying if he'd said he'd found any enjoyment in it. He looked genuinely perplexed for a moment and his gaze grew distant, as though trying to recall what fun was.

"I suppose I haven't been much fun as of late.." he sighed with a wince as he thought of his brothers. He'd been off the rails and he knew they'd have been worried. "I suppose, I fly, swim, fight, dance.." he smirked. "And perhaps, now that I have my muse back by my side, I might see fit to paint again." he smiled at her..

"And you?.." he asked curiously, his eyes searching her face.
 
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Her eyes were still on his wings as he spoke. If she were trying to paint it she would have used black but she knew that would have been wrong; there was too much depth for it to just be black. She was just thinking of how she would been blue and green too when he muttered about not having been much fun recently. A frown touched her face but she didn't look up at him, letting him talk without a pressurising gaze upon him. She devoured every little thing he listed and tucked it away for later to properly digest and finally looked up at him when he returned the question with a faint smile.

"Back home, I guess I didn't really do much for fun either. Least... not just for fun, everything had a purpose like hunting and riding - but I did really love riding," a painful sigh. "But I learnt new things on the Road. Dancing... but I really like music. Singing," she bit her bottom lip shyly and then laughed.

"I don't think I am very good. Especially not with flutes."
 
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And his eyes were still on her face. He'd never realised how interested he could be in someone, how closely he wanted to study each feature, each idiosyncrasy, as though she were some mesmerising book of ancient secrets that he'd recently discovered and couldn't put down. His lips twitched as she met his gaze and his head tilted as he listened, his hand reaching idly to capture a tress of her hair betwixt his thumb and forefinger.

His brow quirked in surprise at her revelation and his grin widened. "A singer? Well that is surprising. You must sing to me sometime." he smiled at her, his knuckle grazing her jaw as his fingers slipped to the ends of her hair and let the lock fall back into its curl.

"There are meadows here like the one in your dream. If you wish a horse to ride here then you'll have it.. I never want to see pain in your eyes again.." he frowned gently.
 
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The idea of singing in front of anyone let alone him was a mortifying prospect. Her tutors had said she had a natural talent but she had felt like a wailing banshee herself, and older humans didn't have ears like the fae. Music was their... well, one of their things. The story of the Erlking singing a song so haunting it brought a Princess Maiden to him in the middle of a dangerous forest just to ease his pain, rose up in her mind unbidden and she shuddered slightly. Though she suspected that reaction was more from the feeling of fire leaping up her spine when he grazed her jaw like that.

"No," Mae shook her head with reluctance and then offered a lopsided smile to ease her rejection. "In my tribe, you have one horse. When you turn 13 you go out onto the Plains where the wild horses roam and you find the one that calls to you here," she pressed two fingers over the centre of his chest. "Deeper than with your heart, with your soul. Our people believe that the Creator made horses with a piece of our soul in their hearts to find when the time is right. So I cannot ride another, not unless I find another piece of my soul in their eyes but that is truly rare. It has only happened to two Queens in our whole history."
 
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Lorcán studied each idiosyncrasy in her expression as she thought, though his brow creased as he picked up something he hadn't expected. Was she thinking about his father right now?

Her answer caused his head to tilt, but he listened without interruption, glancing down at her fingertips as they pressed to his chest where her handprint was forever burned into his skin. He could still feel her there, that piece of her that she'd given to him.

His eyes rose to meet hers, expressionless for a moment, listening as though her words were golden, some elixir he'd been waiting all his life to hear. Then he smiled, it was warm and understanding and he looked at her as with pride as he pressed her hand against his chest and held it there.

"So, you understand then how fae bonds work." he said quietly.
 
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"A fae bond?"

Maeve's eyes were wide with shock. She had never considered the similarities between what she had had with Whisper to what she now had with him. Yet now he had said it... The way she could feel him and how, in his presence, she felt whole once again was identical to how it had been with her horse. Though this, she admitted, was far stronger than that which had tugged her to the dapple greyed filly all those years ago. That had been like calling to like, as though it were a drop of her she had been missing. The pull she felt to the Autumn Prince was like a becoming something more than just herself but she needed him in order to become that bigger, better thing.

Her mind swam.

"I suppose I do," she admitted finally and shyly offered him a smile. "I hadn't... thought of it like that before. I won't lie, when they explained what this was I was a little... scared. I thought you were going to lock me in that house with how angry and scared you felt."
 
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His lips twisted and he nodded in understanding. "I didn't want you to be afraid." he sighed and ran his fingers into his hair with a huff as he flopped into his back.

"It's a complicated thing. Something that we all know about but I didn't really understand it until.. well." he glanced at her. "The urge to protect you is... overwhelming. The tension I feel when I think of other males so much as looking at you is troubling, the idea of anyone hurting you...." his jaw tightened and he growled.

"If I wasn't so afraid of you hating me, I might well have locked you in that house." he admitted with a grimace. The thought had crossed his mind, and every urge and instinct was a battle right now. "But I know that depriving you of your freedom and choices is the best way to lose you. I am, trying... But I'm scared too."

He looked up at her, his eyes dark. "I want to be honest with you. I've been broken in more ways than one, but nothing compared to how broken I'd be if you choose to reject me. I've seen males who've been rejected by their mates before and.. it's no life. I want you, Mae. But I won't hold you prisoner - it remains your choice to make." he smiled wearily at her. He had a hard enough time liking himself very much, let alone expecting her to like what she saw.
 
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Maeve stayed propped up on her elbow even as he lay back in the grass. Her lips twitched somewhat at his confession especially in regards to other men looking in her direction and the reason why the scarce few men she had seen in his household suddenly clicked into place. After he was done with his confession she leaned forward so that she was half sprawled over his chest and raised her hand to run her fingers gently through the black wisps of his hair. Another smile tugged at her lips: he couldn't ever truly know how much his words meant to her. Calmed her. Made her feel more loved and safe than bars or guards possibly could.

Her hand cupped his cheek and she ran her thumb lazily over the seventh hour stubble on his jaw.

"The fact that you didn't is the reason I want to stay," she whispered and then bent her head and claimed his lips in a soft and loving kiss.
 
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She had a way of drawing him in with those unfathomable eyes just as her voice and soft touch could settle his soul. But now she was close and drawing closer.

Adrenaline rush. So much of it that he nearly forgot to breathe, his dark eyes jumping from her lips to her eyes, his pulse erratic. He let out a soft groan as her lips met his, like an artist’s brush against his canvas, intense, smooth but contained, until his heart started again and everything accelerated.

The second their lips touched everything seemed oddly still, like the moment of silence between lightning and thunder. It was like the end of something terrible and the start of something amazing. The beginning of the ineffable life which, ably assisted by fate, he had finally willed into being. He had found her, found his purpose in life and everything made sense, like the final piece of him was now firmly in place and he could truly live. He loved her far beyond his own comprehension, and whether or not he dared saying it, he made sure that she felt it as he kissed her back.

He breathed her in, his fingers taking a gentle fistful of her fiery hair and his other hand cupped and caressed her face. How addictively she invaded his senses, the scent of her alone hypnotic beyond reason and the sweet taste of her lips eradicated all thought. He shuddered, his wings ruffled and there was a sound at the back of his throat that was half growl half moan as he realised that after one taste, he'd never get enough.
 
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He tastes like home...

Maeve became aware in that moment that something inside of her akin almost to a bow string had been growing tauter and tauter for longer than she could remember and then had held, trembling on the precipice of release for that moment. The moment she accepted that bond with more than just her head, or her heart, but with her entire being. She had thought it had settled when she had sleepily grazed his lips in the bath earlier that morning, or perhaps when she had decided in her mind as the sisters had talked that she would stay as long as he didn't lock the door. How she could have been so naive to think something this... grand... this vast... this endless pool that was his love would have been as simple as those feelings before? The weight of it threatened to crush her as much as it did to raise her higher on an adrenaline ride that made her want to sob.

A soft, desperate whimper formed in the back of her throat as her own fingers tangled themselves in his hair as if in a desperate attempt to anchor herself to something real and physical. She was barely aware that she was moving but her skin craved -- no, her soul, every fibre of her being, needed more. How was she ever going to cope with this feeling that was threatening to drown her in its tempest? Whilst deepening the kiss she straddled his hips and ran her hands down the soft silk of his shirt then up to cup his cheeks once more.
 
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In his life he could not recall a time where he’d been so self restrained. Even has Maeve seemed to be giving in to her own, he had every urge to tear the clothes from her and claim her. The sound of her whimper stirred something of pure carnal aggression in him, the way she gripped his hair and straddled him threatening to shut down his logical mind entirely and give way to something far more feral.
But he knew the bond they shared was complex. He knew emotions ran high, worried that she might have confused his feelings and instincts as her own. He’d never tried to be so careful of damaging something in all his centuries of life.

His racing pulse was audible, as was her own. Her skin heated and the scent of it threatened to drive him to insanity. He breathed her name against her lips, it was a desperate sound that could have been interpreted as a question or plea. His body shuddered against the feeling of her hands on his chest. His hands covered hers as they settled on his face and he squeezed at them, but he failed to keep them from wandering for long.

They travelled down her spine and split to settle on her hips which he gripped as his kiss deepened with a demanding growl.
 
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Slow down.

Maeve had never known her name could sound like a sirens song but from his lips it made her toes curl inside her soft leather boots and her fingers fist the soft fabric of his shirt. She wanted to paused to tell him things, her feelings, where her mind was wandering, but she couldn't find the words to explain them in the Common Tongue or her own language for that matter. So instead she settled for showing him with the lay her tongue played across his or the subtle strokes of her finger tips over the skin just beneath the hem of his shirt, exploring higher...

Slow down.

-- and Higher. His skin felt like silk beneath her hands and she deftly undid the buttons to bare his chest entirely to her greedy touch. Her lips leaving his only to dote upon the expanse of muscle she had uncovered --

Slow down. Slow down!

The voice inside her head finally broke through the wall that shrouded her senses and with a groan she pulled back only to lean down and kiss his lips once more, like an addict unable to go cold turkey all at once. She squeezed her eyes shut and rested her forehead against his breathing hard.

"I've never..." a blush bloomed across her face and her eyes squeezed shut tighter. "I'm sorry."
 
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He could hear the way she pled with herself to slow down. He could feel how difficult she was finding it to do so. He could feel her hands unfastening his shirt, her tongue on his, her hands on his skin. He should stop..

But that was more difficult.

He was already lost in her. He stopped breathing. He shuddered at her touch and there was a sound from the back of his throat, half growl, half moan. Little shivers of pleasure and panic shot through him as he deepened the kiss. He stopped thinking. He pulled her to him, crushing her to his chest and sealing the tiny space between them, digging his fingers into her hair. It was soft, silky. He sparked alive, his heart swelling to the point of near bursting. The rush of sensations crawling across his body was maddening. Terrifying. Thrilling.

He was drowning in her.

Before he knew what his hands were doing they were on her skin, sliding under her shirt and as she broke the kiss to breathe his fingers dug into her waist. There was only feeling and wanting. That was all. He was breathless and dazed, unprepared for all of this, and his body ached for more than just kisses and touching—for more of her. And he knew she did, too. His powerful body trembled as he let a steadying breath tumble from his lips, his eyes closing as he shook his head. It was too easy to get lost in her, lost in this connection between them. The world—everything else—ceased to exist.

"It's alright.." he answered and couldn't help but laugh under his breath. "It's, more than alright.." he smirked. That she was not only his but had never given herself to anyone else was a delight to Lorcan and his jealousy.. "We'll, take it slow." he swallowed and opened his eyes on her before pressing a kiss to her forehead.

At least, he'd try.
 
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Mae's eyes narrowed slightly at his smirk. His pleasure, that masculine triumph, brushed across her senses like a wolf's distant howl at the full moon. It made her skin break out into gooseflesh and her toes curl. That smirk especially. She found herself wondering what it would taste like only for the thought to burst as he kissed her forehead causing her nose to scrunch up slightly. That reaction had not been what she had intended with her confession. She was not some blushing human Princess who had been taught the importance of being chaste and pure despite the heat in her cheeks. The tribes had never been shy about talking about the ins and outs of laying with another. What was humiliating, at least to her, was that she had no experience in comparison to his 400 years.

Gently, but firmly, she gripped his chin and tugged him back to her lips. Seconds ago had been rushed and desperate need but this was a searing hot branding iron she intended to penetrate far deeper and slower.

"I didn't say that meant I was a nun," she breathed in a husky laugh when their lips finally parted again. Her eyes scanned his to capture every little fleck of colour and her smile deepened until it dimpled her cheeks. Gods, please let it be as the sisters said and these emotions settle down some time this century or she could very well see herself doing nothing for the next 100 years but staring at him. Mae bit the inside of her cheek to bring herself, at least partly, back to her senses. "I just.... don't... like not being good at something," she huffed. No, not quite. "I don't... like the thought of not... you've just been with other women and I... I don't... Like the idea... of you not enjoying being with me."
 
Fuck..

He'd kissed countless women, but never had one sparked a fire like hers did. It consumed him, his heart and mind tripping over themselves and his entire body shuddered beneath her.. And he stared right back at her. He could see everything. Her perfect, porcelain skin, the deep, emerald pools of her eyes, the speckled stars in the tattoos that painted her skin, those soft lips that branded him so deeply.. But he could see everything beneath it, her mind, her heart, her very soul that seemed to shine through her skin.

That fucking smile.

His grin widened at the way she chewed on the inside of her cheek, the way she spoke so hesitantly. "I have been with other women. Only one that I'd have claimed to have felt something for. But none of them have made me feel anything close to what you do just by looking at me like that..Or kissing me like that.." he grinned, reaching for her hand and pressing it to the brand she'd left on his chest. "You and I were quite literally made for one another... How could we not be perfect together?" he laughed under his breath, grazing her nose with his and rumbling a quiet whisper to her.

"You're my Queen, Mae."
 
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She stroked her thumb absently over the handprint. Beneath her touch she could feel that echo of her magic thrumming through him and she wondered, idly, if he could feel his magic within her. So many questions that she didn't have to cram now into three days. Her other hand slid up the other side of his chest to gently cup his cheek as their noses touched and this time it was her turn to laugh beneath her breath.

"Queen of Fae," she gave a very slight shake of her head in wonder. If someone had told her only a few months ago that she wouldn't bolt at even the mention of the title she would have laughed in their face and possibly tested them for a glamour. Now it was meaningless. He could have called her a seamstress or a cook and she would have been content. With reluctance she lifted her eyes from his to the cloud-dotted night sky above them with its twinkling stars, and gave a soft sigh of contentment. When had she last felt so at peace?

"Hey, look," she pointed as one star went streaking across the sky. It faded as it shot towards the west but soon two more streaking balls of light whizzed across the sky, then another and another. Mae's eyes grew wide with wonder as she watched. "It's beautiful."
 
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Goosebumps bloomed across his flesh as her thumb caressed the scar, and his lips twitching into a smirk. Leaning into her hand he turned to press a soft kiss against her wrist, and followed her gaze to the skies. He laughed under his breath and looked back at her, studying the awe on her face and the stars reflecting in her emerald eyes as she watched the spectacle.

"Yes it is." he answered quietly.
 
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