Completed Breaker of Chains

[Quacey]

Beauty. That word told him much. The glamour of such perfection was a mask upon what she felt was an undesirable truth. A curiosity of what lay beneath rose in him. The two had shared passion not long ago and it made him wonder what he would have been experiencing had she been her full self with him.

But a thought that could wait for later.

The fae continued to massage her in his arms as they laid there. His mind piecing together what had been observed and revealed. A sticky web, but they are were in their own unique ways.

"You do not feel desirable then? Why? Can, or will, you show me?"

His tone reinforced what he had stated to her earlier. If she wished to not answer then she was free to do so without him prying. Secrets were precious things to the fae. He knew he wished to keep his own so he had no right to demand others.

Ethir

 

[Ethir]

Ethir knew eventually she might have to reveal her true self to him, and she dreaded doing so. And for a minute she was almost grateful that Orion would not reveal her true self to anyone. Not yet.

"I can't, he gives it and takes it away as he wills. Only way for me to get out of it is if he died. I'd remain in my true form forever," Just saying it aloud caused cold fear to trickle down Ethir's spine, even with Quacey's warm body against hers.

"Are you going to kill him?" she asked after a moment of silence. She had avoided his question of why she felt undesirable, but hoped feebly he wouldn't notice.

She found she wanted to freeze this moment forever: her, as a beautiful Fae female, lying with a beautiful Fae male. It was perfect. Too perfect.

Quacey

 

[Quacey]

Autonomy lost. Freedom bound and caged. Controlled by a man obsessed with gold. A reflection of it in her very form given the tone of her skin and hair.

Quacey frowned slightly upon hearing it. The idea of anyone taking such advantage of another was a foul thought. Even more so knowing he had used the root of how she became lost against her. He believed she had become gilded thanks to him and so could use her as he saw fit. Quacey knew what was most precious lay beneath the false golden exterior only fools paid attention to.

"No." His response to her question was near immediate. "Not right now. There may be other ways to address these issues before resorting to spilling blood. If it comes to it however I will not hesitate nor shy from it. Never the first solution nor act to take. Never one to be ignored nor left off the table."

She was starved in this place. Not in any physical sense. Her's was the emotional kind. The way she reacted to his touch and them just simply laying together was proof of how she was denied a core comfort. Truly it spoke of how this Orion must view her less as a being and more as an object. A pretty statue for him to display and charge to touch.

Ethir

 

[Ethir]

Ethir was silent as Quacey responded. "I would do it," she said softly, not looking at Quacey. It was something she was just beginning to realize. Even if she lost her beauty from it, she wanted to kill Orion. Hers was a hate that crept up underneath a smiling visage and false pretense. Orion would be easy to play.

"What other ways? I could run now, and keep my beauty, but then your purpose of helping lost souls would remain mostly unfulfilled." She said, almost sarcastically. Only once she said it aloud did apprehension enter her. She was not sure she was ready to part with her beauty yet. But it wasn't even hers, was it?

She sat up suddenly, pulling away from Quacey. "Are you quite satisfied? Had your fill, or were you hoping for another round?" she said, bite in her voice.

 

[Quacey]

An admission of desire to kill Orion. An admission of fear at losing her beauty. One only existed so long as the other did yet the desires were at odds with each other. Which was the stronger of the two clear. Why did she place so much value upon it? What was there to gain by having it? What was there to lose letting it go?

Quacey was contemplating things when she suddenly had a reversal in her mood. Question of how satisfied he was and his desire for what to do next with her.

Was it the nature of their current discourse? Her fear manifesting as anger and annoyance?

The fae held his gaze upon Ethir for a time. His eyes locked upon her own. Perhaps too soon or even too late he finally spoke. "Have you had your's? I am here for you Ethir. I have no desire nor wish to leave your company yet."

Ethir

 

[Ethir]

Ethir kept her stare hard on Quacey. "You claim to be here for me, to help me, but then you paid Orion to fuck me just like everyone else." she said.

She got to her feet, and stepped back into her dress, hating the way the iron bit at her skin. It only made her angrier. She walked a couple steps over to where Quacey had left his sword earlier and picked it up, unsheathing it quickly and whipping back around to level it at Quacey.

"Whether you want to or not, you're going to be leaving my company quite soon. We can do this the easy way, or the hard way," Her words held more confidence and ferocity than she felt. She didn't know if when it came to it, she would be able to actually go through with it and kill him. Ethir didn't see it or feel it but her hand holding the sword was shaking.

Quacey

 

[Quacey]

The new direction continued with Ethir. Her words held truth in them, although were being directed in a particular way towards a specific narrative. She was in her dress again quickly then moved for his sword. It was held in her hand and she made a threat for him to leave. It was clear she wished to cast him as a manipulator seeking only to use her as Orion did.

Her shaking hands showed how conflicted she must be.

The large fae could easily overpower her. Quacey was trained and experienced. Lifetimes had he spent with a sword in hand and lifetimes had he had to use it. There was always that threat an unsheathed weapon posed inherently no matter what, but it was something that could be worked around.

But he didn't wish to be so violent and forceful with her. A bit of force perhaps, but none that would bring her any sort of harm. No, that would just prove to her that he was aiming to get what he wanted from her no matter what.

Quacey chose a path and before her eyes he would scatter into an eclipse of moths quickly flying in every direction all about the tent. Unnaturally fast they would gather back behind her and he would resume his form. His hands softly yet firmly took hold of her wrists. She would have no harm done but she would find it easier to move a mountain than him.

"Drop it, please."

Where the ironthreads touched his bare skin she would see it beginning to redden and rash. No doubt if left for long it would blister as well. This position put him is far greater discomfort than it did her. Yet he stayed there. No moving to force the blade out of her hand. No attempt to restrain her any more than this. Simply he was keeping the weapon safely away from them both until she saw some reason.

"I will depart your company if you wish, but first I would like to be allowed to explain myself. Our kind can not lie even if we can trick and deceive, so what words I say will be true.... Is this acceptable? Do I have permission to speak?"

And then Quacey waited. What had exactly caused such an explosion shift from her? It happening was no issue. It was more the suddenness of it and the intensity in which it took place that confused him.

Ethir

 

[Ethir]

One minute he had been standing there and the next he was gone, replaced by hundreds of moths that swarmed around her. She turned her head, lowering the sword but didn't have enough time to figure out what was happening before Quacey had reappeared behind her, wrapping his arms around her to grip her wrists firmly. She could not move them if she tried.

Her fingers let go of the hilt of the sword, and it clattered to the ground. His bare skin was still pressed against her dress, and she knew the iron would be bothering him. It was bothering her, but she was more used to it. The words he spoke were calm and understanding, and just as fast as it had come, her burst of anger left, and she deflated against him.

"Explain yourself, then," she said softly.

Quacey

 

[Quacey]

A soft sigh of relief left Quacey when she finally dropped the sword. He let go of her wrists and picked up his blade. Right back into it's sheathe it went then was laid away from the both of them once more before he turned his attention back to her.

"I came here because I felt someone in need of help. Who I found was you. When I said I was here for you that is what it meant at first. Paying Orion was simply a means to enter without spilling what I considered unnecessary blood. My goal here is not death."

The fae moved himself towards his clothes as he spoke, but did not begin to dress yet. There was no need for them yet. The words needed to be spoken more and the act of dressing would distract from them.

"I did not know the sort of activities you practiced until you spoke of them yourself. I suspected when he demanded a payment, but suspect and know are different states of awareness. I succumb to my desires when the offer was presented. I will not leave that detail unspoken as if to secret it away. It was enjoyable and I would be pleased if we could share the experience again.... But that does not mean it has changed the nature of why I am here in any way."

Quacey looked Ethir in the eyes. A matter of fact seriousness within them. "I am here to provide you what you need if I am able. If you wish for me to leave for now I shall and will return later."

With that things were spoken. He would let her provide her response before he began to put his clothes back on. She might notice his skin still showed signs of the exposure to iron. Slowly it was returning to normal but for now remained testament to the effects it held on their kind even in small amounts.

Ethir

 

[Ethir]

Ethir did not move as Quacey set the sword aside and moved towards his clothes, but made no effort to put them back on (Ethir didn't mind). When he said he hadn't known what he was paying for, she believed him. She wondered, though, if she hadn't thought he was just another customer, and if she hadn't come onto him, what he would have done instead. If the 'offer' wasn't presented. But it didn't matter, because in some sense she was glad she had, because he had been quite good. She wouldn't tell him that of course, but it could help her sleep at night.

"I don't even know what I need," she said softly, her hazel eyes searching his gray ones. She couldn't even figure out what she wanted. Perhaps that was what made her lost- the inability to make a decision. And if Quacey was drawn to all lost people, she supposed he must be very busy.

Eventually he did start putting his clothes back on, but not before Ethir noticed marks on his skin from where the iron was. She could only imagine what her natural skin looked like now, after 3 years of exposure to iron on her skin. Already, his burns were fading away. She knew hers would never.

Quacey

 

[Quacey]

She had gone back to being more submissive and agreeable. It made things easier in ways, but it also was reflecting in how she was so short in her response. Truly though there wasn't much more one could say than they didn't know. It was common for those lost to feel that way. Some did and it was more the getting there that was the issue. Those people were simpler to help.

Quacey was dressed now and drew closer to Ethir. A hand was placed upon her shoulder and squeezed softly. The ironthreads once more causing him irritation that he ignored.

"If you do not know what you need then start with what you want. What is it that you desire? Freedom? Vengeance? Companionship? No matter how small. No matter how big. What is it you wish for right now?"

This was a more loaded question than it seemed and it already seemed loaded. A push towards understanding oneself and find a path. If it was the wrong one then they would know quickly. If it was correct then they could begin getting her to where she needed to be. Regardless it was meant for them both to try to come to an understanding of her. By knowing what she wanted they might figure out what she needed.

Ethir

 

[Ethir]

Ethir was quiet for a moment. She didn't know what she wanted. Or rather she did, but it was a paradox. She wanted to keep her beauty (or rather stay beautiful forever), but she also wanted to kill Orion and pay him back for all the pain he had made her endure. But she couldn't kill him if he was the source of her beauty, could she? Or maybe the whole point here was to really look inward and give up her beauty because it would benefit her in the long run and give her closure.

Before she got a chance to respond, Ethir's Fae senses picked up on footsteps getting closer to her tent. She didn't know what time it was but the Suntory Market was definitely closed by now. As the footsteps got even closer, she sensed it was Orion. She glanced at the entrance to the tent, and then back at Quacey. Would Orion be so bold as to open the tent? He had before, to find either Ethir alone cleaning herself, or to find Ethir had slit another man's throat and was covered in blood. What would he do if he walked in this time, to find Ethir and Quacey both dressed, Quacey unharmed?

And suddenly it came to her, and she knew what she wanted to do, seconds before Orion opened the flap of the tent. He paused when he saw the two of them, fully expecting them to still be going at it, and Ethir took his hesitation as an opportunity. She moved forward quickly, wrapping her hands around his throat. This close to him, she savored in his expression of surprise. She forgot momentarily about the Fae behind her as she slid a hand down Orion's front, pulling his iron dagger from his belt. She let go of his throat, replacing her hands with the edge of the blade. Slowly his face relaxed, but Ethir could still smell the fear on him like piss.

"Really, treasure? You won't kill me," he said, his voice confidant and sure.

"Won't I?" she said softly, her voice cold and deadly.

Orion didn't make a sound as he died.

Quacey

 

[Quacey]

The return of Orion was no mystery to Quacey. He felt it even before Ethir noticed. She began to grow nervous. It would seem their time together for now was at an end. He would need to return, but how long he should give before then was difficult to say. Perhaps see how the golden robed mortal reacted and base it from there?

What followed was a shock and took him completely by surprise.

Ethir suddenly had Orion's dagger in hand. The blade was then over his throat. Crimson flowed and the mortal dropped to the ground. That was the end. To this situation. To her issues with the mortal. To her glamour about her form.

Quacey didn't wait longer than a moment before he quickly moved over to Ethir. Off went her dress of iron threads. He picked her up then went out the tent entry. As they did he cast a spell and bent the light. They would appear invisible to those who didn't look closely enough. Others it would be a shimmer upon the wind.

In a hushed voice he said as he kept his eyes locked ahead on the way out of this place, "We shall find you clothes and discuss what comes next. Do not worry. Just rest."

Ethir

 

[Ethir]

Ethir felt as if someone had splashed a bucket of hot water across her front. At first she thought it was Orion's blood but then she realized it was also her beauty fading away. The knife fell from her hands and she touched light, shaking fingers to her face. She could feel her rough skin, at odds with the smooth, tight skin of her scar.

Gods, what had she done?

Before she could even comprehend what had happened, Quacey had taken off her iron-thread dress and scopped her into his arms. She covered herself with her arms, suddenly embarassed, as he quickly left the tent and made for the exit of the Market. Was she really living this place? The panic began to set in. She had not seen the outside world in so long.

Only now was she realizing how much the iron had hurt her. As if her perfect skin had nulled the effects, now they were throbbing red on her skin. Her body was pockmarked with new red scars that she hadn't seen before and she never wanted to see again. A single tear slid out of the corner of her eye, and she turned her head into Quacey's chest, hiding her face. Her ugly, ugly face.

 

[Quacey]

The people around the pair ignored them as he walked through them. A parting of the crowd like that of water around stone yet with the appearance of a current. No one seemed to question it. Their minds preoccupied with other things. The way he was preoccupied with delivering at least this one fae woman from this hellish place. Perhaps one day he could return for the others, but for now his goal was singular and focused.

Towards the edges of the camp, Quacey spotted their wash tent. Laundry drying in the open air and clean boots ready for polishing. He approached it and set her back down to her feet. Then he leaned down and whispered directly into her ear.

"Take what you need. I will keep us hidden."

The fae would need to focus. New elements to be hidden by the light and multiple sources of movement made the spell vastly more tricky to maintain. One best designed for an individual that demanded overpay beyond the caster's use.

Hopefully nothing happened. He was competent but he was no specialist in such complex spells of light and trickery as this. More a warrior and poet to a sorcerer and mystic.

Ethir

 

[Ethir]

Ethir did not open her eyes until Quacey was setting her on her feet again. Self-conscious like she'd never been before, she pulled on a pair of pants, a long-sleeved tunic, and a pair of leather boots. Her entire body was sore and aching from both the iron and the passion she had shared with Quacey an hour before.

It was harder to tell in the dark, but her loss of vision in her left eye hit her hard. She now had a permanent blindside, and never again would be able to see out of her left eye now that Orion was dead. She swallowed past the thick lump in her throat, willing herself not to cry. Quacey already thought her weak and in need of saving, no need to prove his point even more than she already had.

She straightened, her blood-matted hair falling on either side of her face like a curtain. "I'm ready," she said softly to Quacey as he wove his magic.

 

[Quacey]

Being out in the bright light of day was a strange time for Quacey. His affinity for light might lead one to think it a familiar element that he could wield with ease. But it was not. The sun was overbearing upon his Twin loved soul. It was in that muted light of their grace that he was most at ease. The overwhelming intensity of the heavenly tyrant was a hindrance.

So the fae had to work to concentrate upon his spell. The longer it went on the harder it seemed to become. When Ethir finally proclaimed she was ready he let out a sigh of relief. He must hold out longer but not indefinitely as it was before.

Quacey scooped her back up into his arms then began to move once more. Out and away from the camp until they were safely behind the cover of shade gifting trees. Then he set her down and released his spell. Sweat glistening upon his skin from the effort of holding his spell for such an extended time with another in arms.

"How are you feeling? Need to rest?" Quacey studied her over. The real her. Scars and burns about her. Signs of ill treatment and misfortune. It saddened the heart. Some might find it off putting and ugly as well. He simply saw it as distinctions to tell others this was truly Ethir.

Ethir

 

[Ethir]

Ethir hated the sun as it rose. It revealed her impurities for everyone to see. Well, considering the magic Quacey was performing, only for him to see, which was somehow worse. Only less than an hour ago, they had been two beautiful, passionate Fae, rattling the stars with their intimacy.

He set her down on her feet again and she looked up at him, searching for signs of disgust or repulsion. Her eyes were wide and she blinked rapidly, as if her sight in her left eye might be restored if she blinked hard enough or opened her eyes wide enough.

All she found in his expression was sadness. She didn't know what make with that, so she broke their gaze. "I'm fine," she said softly. "Where are you going to take me?" She had nowhere else to go, and even though she didn't know Quacey very well, she guessed he would not just dump her here in the woods and leave. He seemed decent enough.

 

[Quacey]

Aiding the lost certainly was a duty for Quacey. One he took to out of his own choice. Guiding the lost was more than just that for him after all. He truly wished to help them, but time had taught him some distance needed to be kept. For them not so much himself. Forcing down their defensive walls and making them open up when they weren't ready had never ended well. All it did was encourage them to fight back. It was why he had chosen to pay and be mostly upfront about his intentions of visiting her rather than slaughter or sneak in.

Quacey began to wonder if that was wise now with Ethir. Her wounds were more visible upon her than most. It made him wonder what lay beneath the surface and what damage lingered upon her heart and mind.... A matter to be discovered in due time. They were both fae. They had that luxury at least where the mortals he dealt with did not.

"I have two options in mind. It depends on which you prefer." Quacey responded to her slowly after she had asked. "The first is wherever you might feel most comfortable. An inn. A town. A familiar ruin or glade. Just name it and I will see you there safely."

The fae found himself a place to sit and leaned back against a tree. He patted a spot next to him although his lap also was free.

"The other is my home. I have more than enough space and you are welcome to stay as long as you need. The main problem is I have newborn twins still yet to speak or walk. They like to cry when you try and sleep."

He smiled warmly to himself as he thought of his kids. "It is your choice Ethir. Just tell me and I will to it."

Ethir

 

[Ethir]

Quacey was unbelievably calm for the whole situation. He spoke clearly and slowly, sitting down and leaning against a tree. He patted the spot next to him but there was something about his expression that said he would not be particularly upset if she chose to sit on his lap.

She hesitated and he spoke again. She was seriously considering sitting in his lap and burying her face in his chest but then he mentioned newborn twins and she sat down suddenly where she stood, a sour look crossing over her face almost involuntarily. It wasn't that she didn't like kids, quite the opposite, really, but the thought of Quacey having two new babies stirred something in her almost like jealousy. He was obviously allowed to have a life, and perhpas it was selfish of her to want all of Quacey's focus to be on her.

Not liking these feelings, Ethir scratched at the scar on her face, ignoring the good couple feet between where she sat and where Quacey sat. "I'd like to stay at your home," she said softly. Maybe it was spite or loneliness or jealousy but Ethir would prefer to stay in Quacey's home than to be dumped off in some inn alone, no matter how comfortable it was.

 

[Quacey]

A rather stubborn woman had been picked up. Instead of sitting next to him she had chosen to sit across from him a short distance away. An understandable response after everything they had just gone through. Even if they had shared intimacy previously it did not mean she was comfortable being near him or had a desire to be. His own comfort with such closeness was perhaps not so common and he had a habit of forgetting how uncommon many of his traits were. Living alone and away from others for so long tended to do so.

"I will see a room is readied for you when we arrive then."

Quacey looked her up and down once more. She had nothing. It was not even a matter of having left anything behind as he was certain she truly didn't own anything. A matter to be corrected sooner rather than later.

"I will replace your lost property before we head to my home. Clothing. Jewelry. Sundries. Everything you need. I will see to the payment so do not worry about the cost."

He smiled to her softly. "You need not start over from nothing if you do not wish to."

Ethir

 

[Ethir]

He seemed to not notice her foul disposition and she was grateful. She really ought to stop giving Quacey reasons to hate her. "Thank you," she replied to his statement, making herself meet his gaze. She kept her eyes on him as he continued to look her up and down, and she subconsciously hunched her shoulders.

Why was he being so kind to her? She had thought Duannan valued their beauty and reputation, but it seemed Quacey held no care for that sort of thing. Now she was not only free, but she had a home and would have new things. It was something she had been searching for since the accident. Something she had never been able to get because of her appearance, so she had sought out beauty and then down the rabbit hole she fell.

His smile was soft but kind and Ethir's heart joined the aching of her body. How selfish had she been? He had newborn babies at home and still here he was, giving her anything she could ever want. She didn't deserve any of it. Guilt was a strange and powerful thing and Ethir hated it. She reminded herself of how awfully she had been treated, the pity in Quacey's gaze. But she was beginning to realize she did not want pity, not from him at least.

"Why are you doing this for me? I've done nothing for you," She said.

 

[Quacey]

"You have done plenty to me already."

Quacey was a bit too quick on that immediate response back. She knew what he meant and it wasn't in the way she had with her statement. He needed to regain a bit of composure and remind himself that she might like some distance right now.

"Apologies. I am doing this because you need help and I am able to offer it. There is no other reason required. If someone doing something for me first was required for my aid then I would have helped none across all my years.... A sad thought but a true one."

The fae was rather matter of fact in how he spoke. What emotion would he even feel for the later parts of what he said? It was just how things were. He offered help because it was needed and that was it. How would someone have known they would need him to help them later on and so had the foresight to do something for him first? Such an event would never have taken place. Most weren't even aware of his existence before they met face to face. The very minor few who were generally thought him some kind of half forgotten god of old. A line of thinking he never encouraged nor pushed with the mortals. It was entirely of their own fantasy and creation.

"Do you feel I am owed something? I do not."

Ethir

 

[Ethir]

His answer came quickly, but he seemed to instantly regret it. Ethir could not help the smile that twitched at the corner of her lips. She ducked her head as he corrected himself and apologized, seemingly explaining himself.

So maybe he was just doing it out of the kindness of his heart; he couldn't lie, after all. But he had sounded less kind and more duty-bound and obligated, or maybe that was in her head.

Ethir was quiet after Quacey's question. Yes, she did feel like she owed him something, but if he didn't think she owed him anything, then why should she give him anything? Ethir got the distinct feeling this was a test to see how kind she would be but she didn't know what Quacey wanted her to do.

"Nothing is free in this world," she said, raising her gaze back to his.

She felt faint and sore and she was sure Quacey felt even more so because neither of them had gotten any sleep and Quacey had exerted himself magically to protect her.

 

[Quacey]

Her outlook wasn't wrong. Truly everything came with a price of some kind. But the nuance of it came with who paid that price. In this case she didn't need to pay any of it. His plan was to pay it as he was the one who could afford to pay it. Asking someone with nothing to pay a price was foolish unless placing that person into your debt was the goal.

That was never his.

"If you wish to pay then pay what you wish. I ask for nothing so will be happy with nothing."

Quacey wondered what Ethir would even use as payment. As far as he was aware she only had a particular skill set (one he would not say no to), but it hardly seemed in her nature to rely upon it. More of a skill set and method forced upon her by that golden dressed mortal binding her.

Ethir