Completed Breaker of Chains

[Ethir]

She could barely hear Quacey over the pounding of her heart, but she watched as he undressed, slowly lowering himself into the washbasin. She noticed the surprise on his face and wondered if this would be smart. But she could not turn back now. And she wasn't sure she wanted to. It was just the two of them in the room, no one else to see.

When Quacey leaned his head back with his eyes closed, Ethir took her chance. She pulled his tunic over her head and moved quickly to the basin, stepping in carefully before lowering herself into the water, on the opposite side of the tub, in between his legs. It was rather cramped so she bent her knees close to her chest and wrapped her arms around them, subconsciously still trying to hide herself from him.

She kept her gaze on his and waited to see what he would do.

 

[Quacey]

The shifting of fabric against flesh. The rising and swishing of water against wood and his figure.

Quacey didn't need his eyes to know what Ethir had done.

The fae leaned his head back forward and opened his eyes. She had her legs pulled up to her chest. The view of her blocked by the act. It also meant things would be difficult for her in the bath. Strange choice on her end.

He smiled. "Your legs are lovely Ethir. How about letting me admire the rest of you? Your legs will hurt otherwise."

The fae left things there. No move to force a decision or take his own action. If she wanted to suffer she was free to. If she wanted to let him see more of who she was with the illusion gone then he would feel honored.

Ethir

 

[Ethir]

Ethir swallowed hard as Quacey's eyes opened. He asked her to move her legs, but she didn't know how she would do that in the tight space.

Slowly, she lowered her legs, shifting her feet so they were on either side of him, like his were on either side of her.

Her heart was pounding and she was shaking and she could not meet his gaze. Perhaps she was foolish for being embarassed. No one except for Orion had seen her like this, and he had made sure to remind her how ugly and undesirable she was. How did she know Quacey wouldn't think the same?

She squeezed her eyes shut and ducked her head.

 

[Quacey]

She made her choice and let her legs relax in what space was available to her in the tub. But she seemed conflicted and hide her face. If he was a more selfish man he might take this time to study over her naked form. But he did not. Not while she hide her face like she did.

Instead Quacey slide his hands into the tub and began to massage her legs. Break down the soreness and fatigue from them. An attempt to allow some kind of healing.... But it wouldn't change how she hide her face.

So after a few moments, the fae leaned forward and picked her up. He positioned her so she was in his lap with her back to his chest. Then he leaned back and wrapped his arms around her waist. His eyes being shut once more as he enjoyed the warm water.

"Better? More comfortable?"

Ethir

 

[Ethir]

Ethir froze when Quacey's hands landed on her legs, rubbing them softly. She did not open her eyes as he massaged his legs, and his massage did not last long.

He picked her up and pulled her into his lap, her eyes flying open and the water sloshing around them as he moved. She was stiff for a moment when he wrapped his arms around her waist but then he leaned back and relaxed. After a couple moments, Ethir relaxed into him, her muscles going slack. It wasn't worth it to put up a fight, and she wasn't sure she even wanted to, anyway.

"Yes," she said softly, turning her head as she leaned it back on his shoulder, so her forehead was against the base of his neck.

She let the warmth from the water and Quacey's body seep into her bones and her heart rate slowed a bit.

 

[Quacey]

The fae was enjoying himself now. Ethir was not fully relaxed but she was allowing herself to enjoy his company. He didn't want anything from her other than what she was freely offering. A bit of skinship to maybe help get past some of her barriers. There was little he could do if she didn't wish to be helped. There was little anyone could do for someone who didn't want help.

His hands just slowly, idly rubbed her sides as he let the water work its magic upon his muscles. Eventually they would need to wash off, but that was best saved for the very end as the filth off them would see staying in it longer foolish and counter productive. So for now it was best to relax and let sore flesh be refreshed.

"What sort of clothing would you like tomorrow? A dress? Long tunic and pants? I doubt what you were made to wear before. Perhaps once we get to my home but it would be impractical for traveling."

Quacey figured a bit of talking would do them some good. A distraction from the awkward silence and a way to learn of one another. If she were interested in him in any shape or form that was.

Ethir

 

[Ethir]

He did not care. He acted as if they took baths together all the time, and her naked and on his lap was nothing new. Ethir was almost... disappointed when he didn't say anything about her appearance, good or bad. Good would have been a welcome relief, and bad would have been expected. She had not been ready for him to act as if it didn't matter. Maybe it didn't and she was putting too much weight on appearances, but wasn't that what fae did? Weren't they caught up in their own beauty? What made Quacey different?

She was momentarily distracted from her thoughts when his hands began to move up and down her sides, slowly and gently. Ethir sagged into him more, letting her eyes flutter shut.

She paused, opening her eyes again slowly when Quacey asked her a question. "Mostly pants and shirts, some dresses," she replied, thinking for a minute. What had she worn before she had been taken by the Market? "Undergarments," she added. She had not worn underwear of any sorts for three years because according to Orion it got in the way of quick undressing.

The thought of Orion brought other memories up, ones she didn't like to think about. She subconsciously rubbed a thick, red scar that banded around her stomach. It was too straight and lined up to be a natural scar, and it looked fresher than her other scars and burns.

 

[Quacey]

The fae held his eyes shut. He chose to listen. Little was done with his eyes anyways. Mostly he moved upon feelings. The urges and pulls and tugs of his domain upon him as it guided his path. The vibrations and sensations that came to him from the ground beneath his feet. The feeling of air and how it moved upon his skin. The sounds and silence around him hints and warnings. His sight was better when there was less light and as such was not worth as much in a traditional perspective. Light was something all beings seemed to seek after all. All sentient at least.

So for Quacey just the feeling of Ethir's skin was enough. Scars and burns were fine. Tales of a life lived. Eyes often lied and tried to say what was beautiful was ugly or what was ugly was beautiful. So he was fine not seeing her and instead experiencing who she was in other ways.

One of these came to be with her answer. Undergarments. He hadn't noticed before she lacked them. No doubt a design of her former trade. The inclusion of pants, shirts, and dresses meant a broader scope in attire. She didn't wish to stick to a single appearance. Perhaps she enjoyed a bit of fashion? She mentioned sewing and was wishing to pursue it when they made it to his home. A topic perhaps?

"All of that it is then.... But perhaps only a single set of each aside from the undergarments? Traveling light is advised and clothing has a way of becoming heavy quickly."

For the first time he leaned his head forward once more as he opened his eyes. A slight smirk upon his lips as he looked at her. "I would not be opposed to seeing you without such heavy burdens as we traveled. A bit of a bare connection with nature might do you some good."

There was mischief in his eyes.

Ethir

 

[Ethir]

Ethir looked up at Quacey right as he opened his eyes and looked down at her. "Haven't I already had a 'bare connection with nature'?" she replied, her own sass surprising her a bit. She would look at Quacey for a while longer, before she would return her head to its previous position. She wasn't hiding her head anymore, but now that she knew his eyes were open she didn't really want to meet his gaze. She knew she would have to eventually.

His hands continued to massage her sides, and she let out a low "hmm" of contentment. She slowly began to trace small circles on his sternum with her finger, but she stilled when his fingers brushed the thick scar across her abdomen, passing over her navel.

More memories that she did not care to think about surfaced and she squeezed her eyes shut as if that would block them out.

 

[Quacey]

The fae chuckled at her sassy words. Certainly she had. A connection that one might hope happened again. But that was a pleasant event for later. Right now was about letting her have whatever she was comfortable with. Be it just this or something more. It was all her choice to make.

As his hands rubbed they past by a newer scar upon her navel. Her body reacted negatively and her eyes closed shut. It was concerning for him. A slight frown proof of this fact. He moved his hands away from it and settled them upon her thighs. His focus for his fingers being upon massaging them so she might be ready to walk tomorrow.

As he did he let silence pass for a bit before making his mind up.

"Ethir. What is the story behind that scar upon your navel? You may remain silent if you wish. I already understand it brings you pain."

And now it was up to her. Would he learn or wait?

Ethir

 

[Ethir]

Ethir kept her eyes closed, but her muscles relaxed a bit as his hands moved to her thighs. After a moment of tense silence he spoke, his voice soft. She knew she did not have to answer his question, but what good would that do her? Perhaps Quacey really could help her, though she wasn't sure how he could help her with her scar.

After a pause of her own, she finally spoke, her own voice soft as well. "Orion would make me drink a tonic every morning, to keep me from getting pregnant. It was infused with iron powder and made me sick at first, but eventually I got used to it." A pause. "One morning, I decided not to drink it. I thought nothing would happen because fae fertility is already low. I didn't take it for six months. By then, I was six months pregnant," she swallowed past the lump growing in her throat, praying to the gods she wouldn't cry again. "Orion found out, and he was furious. He... he stripped me naked and made me drink a whole vat of the tonic until I was sick, but then he tied an iron chain around my abdomen, and did not remove it until he was certain the baby was dead. Three days later, all that was left of my son was a bloody mess." Her voice broke on the last words, and she brought her fist to her mouth, pressing it hard into her mouth as tears now streamed down her face.

She could not get out any more words, but she was still as she cried for the third time. He must think her a weeping mess. All she could see against her eyelids was her tiny, malformed baby covered in Ethir's and its own blood. She had blocked it out so well until now, even better than her mother.

 

[Quacey]

As Quacey listened he grew to loathe the mortal that was keeping not just Ethir but also other fae back at that camp. His exploitation and cruelty on a level only able to be called sadistic. A baby taken from her. One rare for their kind. How many of their kind suffered attempting to have a single child in their lifetime and this mortal stripped her of perhaps her only chance purely because he did not wish to raise a child?

Thoughts of his kids drifted to his thoughts. Further his ire towards the dead man was inflamed. No child deserved such a fate. If they were unwanted by one then they need only be gifted to another that did. There was no point in such cruelty and sadism towards the newly and the unborn.

His arms wrapped around Ethir and held her close against him. He couldn't protect her from what had already happened but he wished he could. The way he held her reflecting it. As a father it was impossible for him to feel any other way towards someone who had the joy he was privileged to experience ripped away from them.

"Ethir, I am sorry that had to happen to you. You never deserved any of it. Not for any reason."

The fae just held her and let her have her time. Let her get out what she needed so good may fill its place later. As he did he contemplated if it would be better to return to his home now or return to the camp and help free those still bound. It was the right thing to do and may offer some catharsis for Ethir to see what had done her so much harm torn apart at its seams.

Ethir

 

[Ethir]

Ethir took slow, deep breaths. This was something she had had practice dealing with. It was easier, she supposed, especially now, because Orion was dead, and so was her baby. Neither of them cared what she thought anymore. Everyone who would hear the story could agree that what had happened was not her fault and that there was nothing she could have done about it.

But she was wont to admit that only afterwards had she realized just how much she had wanted that baby. When she had stopped taking the tonic, she had meant it only as an act of rebellion, testing the lines Orion had set up. She had only been 16, and afterwards, her need for rebellion had faded.

She let Quacey pull her tighter as her silent tears dried on her face.

She hadn't deserved it. And now she didn't know if she would ever be able to have another baby again, after all the damage her body had been through.

 

[Quacey]

The fae didn't worry about anything as the moments past by. His embrace around the woman was all that mattered. Giving her that security to let go and not feel as if she would fall apart. Or at least if she did then someone was there to put her back together quickly. It was not out of any romantic sense of love. They had not known each other long enough for that. Nor truly long enough for friendship. No, it was simpler and more primal than that. It was one being caring about another purely for the sake that they also existed. Empathy for what she had been through. A desire to help another for no reason than because they needed it.

Quacey's domain was strange like that. Simple to a complex degree. Empathy to the point it almost seemed apathetic. No care for the individual quirks. Everyone owed equally the same. Status. Wealth. Fame. Gender. Race. None of it mattered to his domain and it mattered little to him more and more.

But that didn't mean he didn't care for Ethir as a person. She needed to discover who she was once more. He could not know her if she didn't know herself. One lost and unknown needed that universal empathy. No one would know them and so no one would come to care enough to help them otherwise. A sad truth ignored and pretended not to exist in the world. One his domain seemed to exist within and expose. Some might call him apathetic. Only driven by duty or some sense of selfishness. There was some truth to it but also so much more.

That was why Quacey simply held onto Ethir and let her cry. He cared for the lost soul that needed was ignored by most purely because she deserved to be cared for like everyone else.

Ethir

 

[Ethir]

Ethir was no longer sure what Quacey thought of her, nor how much it mattered right now. Right now, she just let herself be held. Her tears dried; she would not be crying any more tonight. The same sense of calm that had washed over her when Quacey had been kissing her returned.

She had been fighting for so long, fighting without even realizing it. She had been fighting Orion by not drinking the tonic, fighting against reason by hoping she could keep the baby, fighting against the world by hiding herself, her true self. She had even been fighting Quacey, pushing him away when he only wanted to help.

Her muscles went slack against Quacey. She wished she could be done fighting. But life was a war. Although one battle may have ended, another would begin.

 

[Quacey]

The time that followed was all just blurred together. They finished their bath uneventfully. They ate once more. They slept. They got her clothes back clean and ready. They paid what was owed. They resumed their travels. Nothing of note seeming to take place. Just time passing by as what needed done was done.

Then they finally arrived at their destination. A town with simple walls as much to keep the wild life out as defend against other mortals. Foot traffic in and out spoke of how much trade past through regularly. The inn capable of sustaining itself such a ways from anything else a sign of the health of the region.

They had to stop at an open gate and declare intent. No toll. Just names and purpose to be written down. Both given. Access granted. They entered and it was finally time for what they needed to do before they went to his home.

Quacey looked at Ethir. "Clothing or sundries first? Or would you rather us enjoy a hot meal and drink?"

Ethir

 

[Ethir]

The next few hours flew by quickly. The next morning, they left, heading towards a town that was supposed to be nearby. Ethir's sense of direction was terrible, but it didn't help that she had spent her entire life holed up or secluded from the rest of the world.

Sure enough, they arrived at a small walled town. Since it was pretty isolated, it didn't receive a lot of business, but enough to make a decent profit- others in the area had nowhere else to go. Quacey gave their names and purpose and they were let in.

Ethir's hair hung on either side of her face in two sleek silver curtains, hiding her cloudy eye and scar. She was wearing the tunic, pants and boots that had been washed, but she was ready to get something else. She turned to look up at Quacey, the sun behind his head and making it hard for her to focus on his face. She returned her gaze forward, scanning the shops and stalls. "Clothes," she replied.

She had been in a strange, quiet calm since the bath the night before, and though she did not duck her head, her hair still covered most of her face from sight, her pointed ears poking out between the strands.

 

[Quacey]

The female fae was still covering her face from him. Quacey was not certain why. Perhaps the scar and burns? Some were particular about such things. She seemed to be one of them. Or was it something else? Perhaps she was growing tired of his company already. They had gone through some unusual events already. It would make sense she might want some distance. Especially after everything she had revealed.

The answer of clothing was both surprising and expected. He leaned more towards her choosing the meal, or rather he personal was looking forward to one more. But it made sense she would be interested in having her own actual clothing again after the years serving that mortal.

Quacey smiled to Ethir. "Clothes then."

He asked around and found out there was two tailor shops in the town. One sold a mixture of new and used clothing and garments. The other was purely second-hand. No doubt the active trade made it lucrative enough for support both.

"Which store would you prefer? I am content with either."

His gaze went back to her. Certainly he was content but that was because the clothing was not for him.

Ethir

 

[Ethir]

Ethir had decided it was pointless now to hide herself from Quacey, now that he had seen every bit of her and seemingly didn't care. Now, she only had to hide herself from the rest of the world. If what it would take for her to not care what others thought of how she looked was for her to expose every inch of her bare skin, then she supposed she would just have to become a hermit.


Ethir looked between the two stores. When was the last time she had been shopping for clothes? There was a pang in her chest and she wished her mother was there with her, to tell her what fit her and matched her skin tone. She pointed to the first store, hoping it wasn't more expensive than the second hand clothing store. She didn't think she could wear anything anyone had already worn or had deemed unworthy for them to wear themselves. That was her whole life with Orion for three years.

Already she saw a pale green dress the same color as her eyes in the window of the store, and she longed to try it on.

 

[Quacey]

The fae watched where her eyes went as she picked the shop with the new clothing. A certain dress was on display. A dress that matched her eye color. One that if tailored to fit her figure would be very fetching drapped upon her ivory figure. Perhaps one that could be modified to show off a bit more. But such a suggestion would not come from him. Not knowing what he did about her past profession. No doubt she was tired of the stares for some time.

Quacey placed his hand on the small of her back and tried to take her hand in his other so he could escort her into the shop.

Once they entered the clerk, a slim middle aged woman who had surprisingly young and smooth skin outside of her rough artisan hands, turned towards them and informed them she would be with them in a moment. She was altering a tunic. Ethir might notice how she was half way through but for all Quacey knew she had just started.

He turned to his companion with a smile. "There was this green dress in the window display. Would you care to try it on? For me?"

The true reason was to give her the excuse to get what she wanted right away and then she could focus on the next item. Also he thought she would look good in it and wanted to find out if it was true.

Ethir

 

[Ethir]

Ethir glanced back up at Quacey briefly as his hand found itself on the small of her back, and the other in hers. She couldn't tell if he was just trying to get her to loosen up or if he genuinely cared for her.

They walked into the shop, a bell ringing over the door and catching the attention of a pretty middle-aged woman. She was altering a tunic, narrowing the waist. It was a pretty shade of lavender and Ethir was nearly distracted by the woman's skilled hands until Quacey spoke up, mentioning the green dress that had caught her eye. He must have noticed her looking at it.

She could not help her blush as she walked up to the dress on the cloth mannequin in the window. She reached up and ran her fingers over the tulle skirt. It looked like a dress meant to be worn outside, in flowery meadows and lots of smiles and sweetness. It had ivory trim on the sleeves and skirt and a matching ivory sash around the waist. The fabric was light and airy and not too revealing, which Ethir liked.

She nodded up at Quacey, and looked over her shoulder at the woman still altering the tunic. She was nearly done. She would have to ask for her to get the dress down; it was the only one available (at least that Ethir could see), but she was suddenly too nervous to ask.

 

[Quacey]

Quacey hadn't taken a close look at the dress until they had it in front of them now. Modest yet airy. Green and ivory colors. Colors of purity and life. Oddly fitting seeing as he was a member of the Spring Court. New growth. New beginnings. Coming back to life following a long stasis. Things that Ethir could do with now. An escape from the sadistic control of a mortal thinking himself more clever and cunning than he was. One now dead upon the ground to slowly decay into it and provide nourishment for the new life springing up.

Hopefully his death would prove as revitalizing for her as it would for some wild flowers and grass.

The interest that the female fae held in the dress was obvious, yet she remained silent. No doubt she wished to try it on. What was holding her back? All she needed to do was speak and she could have what she desired. Yet she faltered. She hesitated. Still shy and lacking in her self worth? It was not as if she would change so suddenly in such a blink of an amount of time.

He moved a hand up to his mouth and whispered into his hand. His fingers closed as if to hold something precious like a mouse or moth. Behind her head he moved it down then let go. In what sounded eerily similar to Ethir's voice came a request. A request to try on the dress in the window. It was simple. It was short. It was not from her own mouth.

The clerk paused in her actions with a hmm and looked over at them. She made a sound of understanding and stopped what she was doing. The woman approached them and Quacey took a step back and rest his hands behind his back in a way a servant might while waiting on their next orders.

His eyes went to Ethir's and an impish smile crossed his lips. If she could not speak then he would just speak for her. This was the kind of magic he held after all.

Ethir

 

[Ethir]

Ethir turned to look at Quacey when he started murmuring into his hand. Confused, she tilted her head at him. He brought his hand behind her head, and before she could ask what he was doing, she heard her voice ask for the dress in the window.

She barely had enough time to pretend like it was her who had spoken as the woman looked up at them. She nodded, setting down her needle and the tunic and moved over to them, unfastening the back of the green dress on the mannequin.

While her back was turned, Ethir narrowed her eyes at Quacey. He had used her voice, quite literally. She was not too mad at him for long as the woman handed Ethir the dress. She got a closer look at Ethir and started a bit when she saw not only the scar and burns on her face but also the state of her clothes, how thin she was, and the points of her ears poking out between strands of her hair.

For once, Ethir did not notice; she was still so taken by the dress. She only looked up in time to catch the woman glancing over her shoulder at Quacey. She turned back around and told Ethir where she could try the dress on, before returning to her tunic.

Ethir shot Quacey another look before taking the dress into the small changing room, separated from the rest of the shop by a curtain.

She ignored the mirror as she changed into the dress, and only looked into it once it was on. The light green complimented her well, and the fabric was light and airy. She hesitated only a moment before pulling aside the curtain. The woman glanced up from her work, her sharp gaze missing nothing. She grabbed some pins and hurried over to where Ethir stood and began pinning where she would make alterations.

Ethir looked at Quacey as the woman worked, waiting for his reaction.

 

[Quacey]

Perhaps it was not the wisest choice to voice Ethir's mind for her. But the result spoke for itself. She got what she wanted. Some might say it was a good lesson in how she should take what she wanted and stop letting all the little things get in her way. Some might say he should have pushed her to use her own voice. What known of them might say is that he was likely to end up stabbed in his sleep come the next morning. A fate her eyes spoke clearly and loudly was going to pass.

The owner was rather quick in her work. Off the display quickly. Once Ethir had exited the alterations required already accounted for and pins placed for it. A true artisan and master of her craft.

Quacey watched and studied how it looked on Ethir as all of this came to pass. He smiled when he noticed that Ethir was looking at him. When the woman finished with getting the pins set and it was time for the dress to be removed, Quacey decided to use his own voice.

"Do you have any other articles in this shade or similar? It brings out and enhances the ethereal beauty of her eyes. Loveliness threatening to pierce my heart like a sharpened blade. By the time I even notice my breath is gone away from me."

The owner just blinked at the fae a moment then said something about checking stores. Then when she had the dress in hand would leave to make the alterations and check on what he had requested.

Quacey would just smile at Ethir.

Ethir

 

[Ethir]

Quacey smiled at her when he saw her looking at him, and she could've sworn there was a glimmer of mischief in his eyes. She looked away and watched the woman as she worked, briefly distracted by the woman's masterful work. This is what she would have liked to do. Design her own clothes and sell them; be a seamstress for the wealthy and well-to-do.

The woman worked quickly and soon she had altered it to her liking. She stepped back and looked at her work for a moment. She had just nodded, satisfied, when Quacey spoke up, using his own voice this time. Ethir snapped her head up to look at him, as he talked about how her loveliness was like a knife. She could not tell if it was an insult or a compliment and she gave him a dirty look either way.

The woman looked back at Ethir and Ethir gave her an apologetic smile as if to say "he's full of shit". The woman's mouth twitched in a smile and nodded, telling Ethir she could take the dress off. She returned back to the curtained room and took off the dress, being careful not to dislodge any of the pins and ruin the tailor's work. Once she was back in her old clothes, she returned, handing the woman the dress. She took it and disappeared into the back to make alterations and find other items in a similar shade of green.

When she was gone she turned her gaze back to Quacey's. She met his smirk with a glare. "Think you're funny, do you,"