Private Tales Never trust the shadows

[Anais]

She did see it, just as she had done a few times now, but whatever primal instincts she had were ignored entirely, and rather than feel frightened of him, she only grew more intrigued, more excited by something so new and so dangerous. That he wasn't a danger to her was something she fully believed, but he'd already revealed how formidable he could be toward that which sought to harm her, and so how could she feel anything but protected in his presence?

Her gaze followed his as he moved to occupy the space by her side, and she turned to face him, sure her frantic pulse was quite audible. His offer of magic caused her a moment's hesitation when she'd been about to decline but found her interest once again, piqued.

"Alright.. So long as it won't hurt you.." she answered with a slight lilt of question in her tone as she studied his face and reached to splay her fingers over his cheek. She kissed him, slow, tired and soft..

"Don't let me sleep too long..." she frowned.

 

[Fingal]

"You should sleep as long as you need," Fingal said. He didn't have the energy to be forceful with the statement.

She didn't have the energy to stay awake for much longer and argue.

He stretched out and drew upon the ley. Even a single wound from an iron weapon made it more difficult to access.

Fingal drew a single finger down the outside of her cheek and around her jaw and left her to rest.

The magick he drew wasn't to try and heal the iron-touched wound, nor to help her sleep. He drew enough to keel himself awake and alert, to watch over Anais as she rested.

---

It was dark and the wagon was still when he woke Anais. He had left her for a short time to help get the wagon off the road and into a camp.

No one had anything to say to Fingal. Not yet.

"Anais," he said softly, gently squeezing her hand. "Come on, you need to eat."

 

[Anais]

Her sleep was deep and dreamless, a peaceful black oblivion that slipped past all pain and problems and let her simply rest. Had he not gently woken her, she might have slept on until morning, but her lips curled as her lashes slowly blinked him into focus. She stretched and pulled a long breath into her lungs, allowing it to spill free in a soft and sleepy sigh.

"You're still here.." she whispered, her voice gritty from sleep.

They'd stopped, she noticed, and it was dark. She could hear the low din of voices somewhere outside and her brow furrowed, her anxieties flooding back to her. That they would insist he leave. Her hand squeezed back at his and she gingerly pushed herself up onto her elbow..

"Did I miss anything?"

 

[Fingal]

"Not yet," he said.

Fingal stepped back and squatted down. He turned his head towards the back of the wagon, listening to the voices outside. He hadn't heard anyone mention his name recently.

"No one has spoken to me yet. I'm expecting Victor or one of the others to have something to say before everyone turns in for the night."

"I want to have a look at how your wound is doing first."

Fingal kept his voice low. What he didn't say was that he had been very tired when drawing on his magic and wanted to check that the spell had worn off with no I'll effects as she sat up.

 

[Anais]

Ana's brow furrowed as he spoke and her hand reached to settle on his cheek, drawing his gaze back to her. "I don't much care what they have to say." she told him firmly.

She gave a gentle nod of permission to check her wound, her head tilting slightly to allow him a better look. It felt tight with stitches and clotting blood and badly bruised from the damage, but the stitches had held and there was no sign of infection.

"Did you sleep?" she asked him quietly as he looked her over.

 

[Fingal]

"But I do so worry about what people think of me..." he joked.

Fingal spent more time with mortal kind than most of his peers, but he still embodied some of their typical arrogance.

The skin either side of her wound was a little red, but nothing that suggested an angry infection. He breathed a sigh of relief.

"I didn't sleep, no," he said, too tired to thing of a creative way to avoid lying outright.

 

[Anais]

Her lips twitched with amusement at his sarcasm.. "You seem to care at least a little what I think of you.." she contested quietly, studying his face as he seemed concentrated on assessing her wound.. The relief in his sigh was a good sign at least..

"Then you should rest, Fingal.." she said, her tone lowering as she used his real name.. "Let me watch over you for once." she laughed under her breath.

 

[Fingal]

Hearing his real name was a little shock, but it drew his mind back to the last moments before she had fallen asleep. He had offered it up to her, but most of all he remembered the need he had seen in her eyes. Not a gentle, affectionate kind of look. There had been hunger in her eyes.

Fingal took a slow, steadying breath.

"I will heal more quickly..."

Fingal stood and placed two hands onto the bedding. As he leaned forwards and pulled himself up, the cwn returned to his form. The tall, white haired dog hopped up and crawled into the back corner, curling up around his tail.

"...like this. "

 

[Anais]

Once again her mind protested what her eyes were clearly seeing, and she wasn't sure she'd get used to it. She smiled warmly, as she did to see any animal that she set her eyes on, but he was certainly not an animal and so she refrained from reaching out to sample the soft white coat beneath her palm despite the impulse.

She collected a plate of food, though the impression that she wasn't in the mood to chat was clear and most greeted her with a silent smile or a quiet word of concern for her wellbeing. Her answer was short and curt enough that nobody pressed the matter, and Zac's attempt at making peace with her was turned away with nothing more than a glare.

Back in her trailer she latched the door and picked a little at the meat and bread, but found what little hunger she had to be quickly sated. She wasn't sure how long she had watched over the sleeping Cwn, but she soon found the prospect of more sleep too appealing to ignore and eventually curled up beside him, a hand settling gently on his paw as sleep claimed her once more.

 

[Fingal]

His sleep was interrupted by the sound of her leaving the wagon. He pretended to still be asleep, but one ear pricked up to listen in to the conversation.

He heard Zac's voice. For now, Fingal was more interested in keeping the peace. Particularly when there was something he so badly wanted: Anaïs.

He was, of course, fast asleep when she came back.

It was not long into the night that he was woken by the pulsing pain in his arm. Being surrounded in her scent was actually quite comforting, but the pain encroached too much to ignore.

He slowly unfurled himself, shifted back into his humanoid form and sat up at the edge of her cot. Fingal sat there, one arm on his shoulder as he turned and watched her sleep.

Fingal had planned to walk out to enjoy the moonlight, to get a renewed sense of his magic and centre himself to speed his healing, but instead he reached out and settle a hand on Anais' shoulder.

 

[Anais]

She roused slowly at the gentle weight of his hand on her shoulder, her eyes narrowed in the dark as she looked up at him, but they quickly grew wider with concern.

"What's wrong?" she whispered with urgency, pushing herself up onto her elbow to look over him, a glance shot toward the still-latched door.

 

[Fingal]

"Sorry, I did not mean to wake you," he said quietly. "Nothing is wrong."

He sat still, eyes bright in the shadows. The only thing that took away from his mortal visage. He watched her, not moving to leave.

It felt as if reality had been a cold dash of water to stop their moment of passion. A few scant seconds that had felt long ago, but suddenly he was certain he could still taste her on his lips.

"I am of the blue moon, Anais. I am going to walk in it's light."

He sat back and smiled.

"Last time you woke to find me gone, you were quite upset," he said, retrospectively justifying the touch.

 

[Anais]

Her head tilted as she studied his face in the darkness, the way his gaze reflected what little light there was made her feel safe to be held within it, rather than unnerved.

A sigh tumbled free of her chest as she eased. She didn’t know what he meant by being of the blue moon, but it seemed to make sense to her. He had been particularly beautiful under the moons’ light, as though it’d been hung there for him to bathe in.

“I’m coming with you.” she stated, rather than risk a question. She was already sitting up and throwing off her blankets, her feet swinging into her boots as she reached for a shawl to pull around her shoulders against the cool air.

“There’s little risk of upsetting me again.” She smirked.

 

[Fingal]

"Little chance of success in an argument either, I wager," he whispered.

Fingal took stood up. He ignored his boots. People found it strange if he walked around outside barefoot. He doubted there was much he could do to surprise Anais even further.

He raised a finger to his lips as he unlatched the door and stepped down. The air was cool, a haze of mist clung to the grass. He turned to look at her over his shoulder, his hair suddenly more silver than white. Fingal grinned and beckoned.

He led them back up the route followed by the caravan before finding an opening through the trees to their right.

"Are you saying that you would not have been upset to wake and find me gone?" he challenged. The fae turned to face her, doing a slight dance of steps to turn and walk backwards.

 

[Anais]

She didn't bother to answer his quip about arguments. She didn't have to, and she knew he didn't want her to argue anyway.

Ana smiled as he looked back at her, confirming her thoughts of how the moonlight suited him so well. She followed quietly after him, her breath pluming on the night air as she laughed quietly at his question.

"I would have been very upset. But, one; by coming with you, I can't be upset as I'll be returning with you. And two; you promised that you'd tell me before you leave again, and you can't lie, thus can't break your promise." she pointed out rather smugly.

"What did you mean, when you said you were of the blue moon?" she asked with a lilt of curiosity.

 

[Fingal]

"Well...perfectly logical," he said. "I might have been lying about not being able to lie."

He hadn't even thought of that. Fingal heard stories of fae who ended up revealing too much and outwitted by mortals that took advantage of their rules.

No game that had rules was fun to play if you couldn't end up losing.

He waved his hand a soft light warmed the path ahead. He didn't want her to trip in the moonlight.

Fingal pointed to the blue moon.

"Lessat, I think you call it. Some are of the stars or the sun or Pneria, the small moon. I am of Lessat. I feel stronger under its light," he explained.

"Does it not suit me?" he asked, smiling.

 

[Anais]

"And you might now be lying about the suggestion that you might have been lying about not being able to lie." she cast a smile at him.

"Gypsies do enjoy games too, Fingal." she chuckled. "But, I do not think you'd break your promise." she shrugged. Whether or not that was a wise thing to say, she didn't know, she'd just have to wait and see if he was true to his word or not.

Ana's green eyes paled under the mercy of Lessat as she drew her gaze to it.. "So, you draw power from it?" she asked, and grinned as his question drew her attention back to him.

It did suit him. Of course it did.. "Are all Cwn as narcissistic as you are?" she questioned playfully.

 

[Fingal]

"Narcissistic? I don't know whether to take offense or be struck that gypsies both enjoy word games and know such long words.

His grin was all teeth.

"My kind are as a rule," he said. "Cwn are probably not the worst for it. We are, by nature, pack animals. Some others like to be the most colourful, the brightest. They will weave glamours about themselves for days on end so that everyone know how special they are."

"I think in all that, they sometimes neglect to appreciate true, natural beauty," he added, pointedly letting his gaze fall across Anais.

He looked up at the moon. He placed a hand over his wound.

"You could say I take power from it, but that feels too...simple..." he said. "But I do not have a better explanation. The Ley magick that runs beneath us is what I draw from to cast a simple spell."

The soft light continued to bob ahead of them, showing them the roots and ferns to avoid.

 

[Anais]

Her grin mirrored his as she laughed softly, listening to his explanations. She watched the light ahead of them with a small smile in fascination, her gaze shifting back to him as he looked at her like that. Her lips twisted. Natural beauty. She was rather grateful that the cold light of the moon might hide the blush she wore. He couldn't lie, after all..

Her throat cleared.. "Glamour is.. Illusion magic, right?.." she asked curiously, pausing as she drew her attention to the ground beneath her feet as he explained something of 'Ley magick'.

"There's magic in the ground?... Could I use it?" her brow quirked as she flashed him a mischievous smile.

 

[Fingal]

"I see…" Fingal said, tone full of mischief.


"You have ambition too. Having discovered a faerie you have entranced them, discovered their name and now it is time to steal their magic?"


Fingal laughed. She swung one arm low, hand open. Golden fireflies of flight were scattered ahead of him, as if he had just scooped them out of the air itself.


"It's possible. Some form a bond with a mortal to make them their warlock. I think I can probably impart a little of my magic to you, see if you could manipulate the Ley. It's not something to try - I do not think - when some fool has cut me with iron and you are recovering from blood loss. "

 

[Anais]

Ana's smile was bright as she laughed. "Entranced?..." a slender brow arched. "That's a good word." she mused, looking over his face as she said so. "But my people have rules too, and we do not steal from those we've welcomed into our camp, or those that we have entranced." she smirked and turned to watch the fireflies, the magic as beautiful as the wielder.

She was smiling in awe as the creatures danced in a heady swarm of light, but when he spoke of bonds and imparting magic and he regained her full attention, a flutter of something between excitement and panic in her chest.

"Warlock?" she asked, and lifted her brows. "Their warlock?" she added cautiously. The word 'bond' was simple enough to understand, though she doubted it was a simple thing at all, and there seemed to be something a little more possessive to it. Still, the idea of being able to harness any sort of magic intrigued her, and she'd have been lying if the thought of being in any way his was not quite tempting.

 

[Fingal]

"It takes a greater fae than myself to create a warlock. The mortal swears fealty to the fae," he said. His lips quirked upwards into a smile. He ran a hand through silver-white hair.

"But I can try and impart a little of my magick to you, when you are strong."

Fingal had to think about what would make that a fair exchange. He liked Anais so much that he wasn't even thinking about how he could use creative wording to take advantage of the deal.

Another cluster of trees and they were into an open grove. As his hand swam through the air, the soft light became a cerulean beam of moonlight.

"Have you ever used magic if any kind before?" he asked, slowing to a stop.

 

[Anais]

"Oh.." she answered meekly, her teeth snagging on her lower lip as she couldn't help but ponder on such a thing, but tried not to ask any more about it. His offer of imparting magic was enticing, if only to sate her own curiosity. Forever she had listened to stories of such things, and any story of magic had been one sure to captivate her, and yet her brow furrowed slightly.

"Will it, hurt you?" she asked as they wandered into the grove, and once again he made it even more beautiful than it already was. Ana stopped beside him with a soft laugh at his question.

"If you count gypsy tricks and dancing.." she mused with a single- shouldered shrug. "Otherwise, no. There isn't a single drop of true magic in my blood."

 

[Fingal]

"Gypsy tricks and dancing," he said, gaze falling upon Anais.

There had been an otherworldly quality to Fingal as he had meandered through the woods conjuring small lights to lead them. Not he stood tall, moonlight in his silver hair and he was entirely fixated upon Anais.

"It would not hurt, no," he replied. "Though it would...take something of me. Like being tired, but more like lending you a piece of me."

"I did so enjoy the way you danced," he admitted. "If setting goblins on fire is another of your tricks I wonder what else you have?" he mused.

 

[Anais]

She did absolutely nothing to hide her fascination of him with her constant, studying smile. That he would give something of himself to her was a notion she appreciated, and she twirled herself toward him to settle her hands against his chest with a quiet laugh.

"I need to keep some things a mystery..." her emerald gaze narrowed with amusement and her head slowly tilted. "Perhaps...I should be careful what I wish for. I don't wish to take from you. I may come to enjoy it too much.. What if I feel empty and weak without it?" Without him, she already would.

"A kiss though, I would gladly accept...If, you wish to kiss me again?" she whispered up at him with a smile, her fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt..