Private Tales By The Pale Moonlight

[Vaxyr]

He enjoyed her shock, but that was ruined by the seemingly cheerful attitude that followed.

She even stepped past him and into his room!

Vaxyr turned on the spot. He frowned down at the mortal. This, too, did not seem to send her scurrying away.

"Mmm," he went, stepping back into the room. He pulled out a chair for himself.

"You may sit," he said. The second chair did not look as well worn as the one he took.

"Such a thing is not always clear. Maybe a secret, maybe a promise. Perhaps I should sire a child with you so part of me can return to the world. Maybe you must simply save my life."

He lifted the mug and took a sip.

"This tea is acceptable."

 

[Lunabelle]

She blinked at him at the mention of siring anything with her. To stop herself from saying something that would get herself in trouble, she picked up her own cup of tea, sipped from the warm contents and pondered the options presented to her.

None of her secrets would be of any interest or much use to a man living alone in the Wilds.

She glanced around the room and realized none of the sprites were visible. Were the afraid of him or just giving them space?

Her gaze returned to Vaxyr and her head curiously tilted to the side. "Part of you can return the world... are you not able to do so yourself?"

 

[Vaxyr]

"You seem surprisingly calm given the events of the last day," Vaxyr observed.

It was slightly frustrating. All this time and a mortal brought him tea. No begging. No quaking in fear.

"No. I live in exile," he offered freely. One of the wisps would have told her anyway.

"This is acceptable tea," he decided.

 

[Lunabelle]

"I'm glad you like the tea." She offered with a small smile.

Her eyes lingered on his features, curiously glimmering with consideration. While he said very little, he had told her more than she expected. Then again, she'd not known what to expect from him in the first place. Encounters with an exiled fae were not exactly common place. Either they were reclusive or many never lived to tell the story.

Her thumb brushed along the rim of her cup as she cradled it between both hands.

"You weren't the one trying to kill me last night and you took some serious injuries defending me. So far, you haven't given me a reason to be afraid of you." She spoke softly, looking down at her reflection in the cup of tea.

"Is your exile of your own choosing or were you exiled? Is that why you can't leave?"

 

[Vaxyr]

Once again he found her calm demeanour irritating. He had been respected and feared. Then he had crossed too many lines and fear had become loathing and jealousy. And those had turned into plots against him.

"I do not wish to speak of that," he said plainly.

In reflection, that probably answered her question.

He was still in pain from the ordeal. That probably didn't help his temperament, but he felt no need to moderate himself.

"You often find yourself being chased by vampires?"

 

[Lunabelle]

She nodded with understanding when he made it clear he did not want to talk about his exile and didn't press him for further details. While curious, this was not the time to press him.

"No, actually. This was the first time I've seen one in person. I've heard stories, sure. We all have, but..." her words trailed off as she shook her head. "Not sure what I'll do if it's not safe to forage anymore. Don't the stories say that they live in covens?"

Her heart sank and she took a ragged breath. "What if there's more of them?" Dozens of questions raced through her mind; she kept most to herself. She pushed a curl out of her eyes as she looked up at Vaxyr.