Fable - Ask The Hidden Isle

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Raphael glanced down at her with a thoughtful expression, clearly weighing up how much he should say. Lorcan had given her permission to be here but that was different to knowing about the ins and outs of how it worked. The Erlking would not leave his son to command this place if he found out he was quietly taking people out of his cities and towns to live here.

"It's more of a... you are selected," he said carefully. "Lorcan keeps an ear out for families or people who are struggling in the Autumn Court - and a few others. And we just... quietly make arrangements for them to come here."
 
Samara knew immediately that he was conflicted with what he could share. She put a gentle hand over his as he spoke and then she quickly dispelled any thoughts about her trying to pry to much. "I will make sure to drop any names to you if I know of anyone," she said gently.

Who knows...she may be one of those people someday. There were expectations of her that she did not wish to fulfill. She had a feeling that she only had another hundred years or so before Midir would have words with her about bringing more Black Shucks into the court. It was the only thing she envied about the male Shucks...they would never be pressured to have children and it was bullshit. A frown had crossed her face as the thoughts clouded her mind and she looked down solemnly with a soft sigh.

Her mind really had a nice way of fucking up a good thing sometimes.
 
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Raphael inclined his head and then began to bank. Just beyond the city almost at its head rose the Orchard. A grand palace with its own sprawling wilderness tended with a care that could be seen even from this height. But the Puca didn't stop there and instead turned then eastwards, where another home soon came into view. Much more modest the home was built on the very edge of a cliff which jutted out over a roaring waterfall. It looked as though it might fall into the crashing waves below at any moment but when Raphael landed the rock was sturdy and strong beneath their feet.

He set her down with care.

"And this... is my home," he smiled shyly.

The wide terrace they had landed on gave way to arches of glass and beyond that a single story home consisting of a simple, modest layout. It was clear the main decoration was meant to be the view itself and everything else had been designed not to take away from its beauty.
 
Samara was secretly glad to be on the ground again. She loved flying with Raphael so much and she would do it anytime but the feeling of not being in control nagged in the back of her mind. With her feet securely on the ground, she was in control again.

She looked at his home with an appreciative smile. It was him. One hundred percent. Beautiful with simple, clean lines. She turned and walked to the edge of the terrace as she took in the view. It was glorious and the sound of the waterfall below them just added to the beauty.

It was crazy that the city was so close yet so far away. She felt like she was in another world as she stood on the terrace of Raphael's home taking everything in.

"It is perfect, Raph." As soon as the words slipped past her lips, she realized she had called him by his nickname. She hadn't done that before. She had actually made a point to not use it so he wouldn't be uncomfortable.

She placed her hands on the railing of the terrace and felt her grip tightening as she hoped he wouldn't get upset with her.
 
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"Maeve says it lacks creature comforts," Raphael put air quotes around the latter phrase and then came to lean against the rail beside her. He could feel the tension in her body after calling him the familial name often reserved by those he held closest. To show he didn't mind her being one of those without drawing attention to it, he decided it was best just to continue on as though nothing had happened. "Whatever that means," he chuckled.

"The cushions, the rugs, those were her touches. I can't take much credit for them," if he had been left to it he would have just had a wooden hut and been quite content.
 
Samara chuckled at his use of air quotes and she felt the tension leave her. "It is her nice way of saying you need a woman in your life," she laughed out and smiled up at him. "Unfortunately for her, I am perfectly content with gorgeous views and a comfortable couch. I think I have...one painting in my house. Although a good rug in front of a fire is nice too."

"Sorry, I didn't mean to presume that I am the woman in your life..."

She trailed off and took his hand, their fingers lacing together. She needed to change the subject before she embarrassed herself. "Can I have a tour of your home, please?" I will not seem too excited, she repeated to herself over and over. She contained any extra movement but the huge smile on her face gave away her feelings.
 
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Maeve had pretty much said the same thing, though in a more despairing manner than Samara had. He knew she worried about him, Lorcan's quiet friend who preferred the company of shadows to others. He knew it was something Lorcan and Sid worried about too. Even when he was present in the same room as them sometimes he still felt... far away. Like he was standing outside in a cold winter storm looking in.

His lips twitched as her presumption but he didn't correct her. With Samara he felt like he wasn't outside at all. Being with her was like curling up next to a raging fire.

"There's not much to see," he confessed but took her inside anyway. The terrace opened up onto a large living area which served as a area to relax and one to cook in. The great hearth heated the space comfortably despite being barely more than embers, suggesting it could be built so that the house would feel warm even in deep snow. Bookshelves took up one large wall but they were scarce - only a few knickknacks or books placed with tender care.

Off from the main room was a modest bathroom that seemed to use water from the great fall the house was balanced over, and then there were two bedrooms further along. He nudged open the guest suite.

"I... my maid... she was very excited when I told her you would be visiting and got a little... overzealous," flowers had been painted over one large wall in a complicated but beautiful design in soft pastel hues. The bed was piled high with silks, blankets and plush cushions. The colour was a stark contrast to the rest of his home.
 
Overzealous was definitely a word that could be used to describe the guest suite but it was spectacular work. The flowers were perfect and Samara walked over to the wall to run her fingers along some of them. The pastels weren't her thing but the flowers...they were most definitely her thing.

She turned and looked at Raphael, "I am guessing she missed the note that black was my favorite color?" Samara teased as she walked over to the bed and gently touched all the soft things. This was certainly more extravagance than anything she had slept on before. She felt bad that the majority of it would end up on the floor.

Once Samara was done touching everything, she returned to Raphael and threw her arms around him again. She just smiled as she hugged him, hoping he knew how much being here meant to her.
 
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Raphael chuckled at the joke and when she stepped back to him to throw her arms around his neck, he encircled his arms about her waist and tugged her close. His wings closed about them a moment later shutting out the whole world.

"We could always repaint it if you don't like it," because even though he'd laughed, a part of him would always worry he hadn't pleased her. No amount of time would ever change that worry. It was something born of the darkness where he had been kept for years as a child. There was a desperate need in him to please those close so he wasn't ever put back there. It was irrational but it was a scar he would always carry.
 
They were so close and his arms were so comforting as they held her to him. Samara let out a small gasp of surprise when Raphael's wings encircled them. She had never felt safer in her life than she did right now. He wouldn't let anything happen to her.

"I love it, Raph. The artwork is perfect and exactly what I love," she reassured him. She liked to draw and yes, her stuff was darker, but she loved all art.

Samara wanted nothing more than to stand here like this even if it was just in awkward silence. The world was a separate entity from them now. There was no worry, fear, anger, stress in this bubble that Raphael had created for them.
 
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Raph's smile deepened at the validation and a knot eased. He'd done the right thing. Or rather, Jessemay had. The brownie was much better at this sort of thing than he was and had been grateful for her suggestions when he felt lost at sea. But the next surprise... that had been all him.

"Can I show you something?" he murmured down at her where she was nestled against his chest. She looked content and he was loathe to move but he knew she would really really like what he had done. Slowly unwrapping his wings he took her hand and then gently tugged her further into her bedroom and through an archway. Someone might assume it led to a private bathroom but instead it opened up into a pleasant courtyard over looking another section of the wild beauty of Endora. There he had set up an easel, canvas, paints, pencils and a comfortable chair.

The plush cushion must have been Jessemay.

"So... you don't get bored here."
 
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Before Samara could give Raphael an answer, he took her hand and started walking. She smiled as she followed knowing it wasn't going to be anything bad. She was sad to leave his arms and his wings - which was a strange thought - but she was growing excited as the walked.

Samara was paying attention to the archway and the view from the courtyard so she missed the easel and art supplies at first. Her eyes finally fell on them and she looked up at Raphael like this wasn't real.

And then...the Huntress of the Sluagh started to cry.

Samara wished she could explain why she was crying. She couldn't though because no one had ever done anything so nice for her before. No one...not even her mother had ever cared for her this much.

"Raph...it's so amazing. You have no idea, how much this means to me" she wiped her eyes. "No one has ever done anything like this before."

She had been given gifts, of course, when she was with Vaer but this was a different level. He cared and paid attention to her likes.
 
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He'd expected squealing or something of the sort. That's what Maeve had assured him would happen. Crying though? Icy cold gripped his heart when the sobs begun and he hesitantly put a hand on her shoulder. He had ruined their time together before it had even had time to start properly. Raph cursed himself seven different ways, the pain clear in his eyes as he turned her back towards him.

"Samara I didn't mean--"

She cut him off though with those tearful words which left him feeling as though he'd just had a rug swept out from under his feet. Whiplashing from fear he had upset her to the knowledge he'd made her so happy she'd been unable to express herself in any other way... Well he didn't know how to react.

"I.. I'm glad you like it," he rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. "Do you want me to leave you alone to..." do whatever it was women did to stop crying.
 
Samara was half crying and half laughing by the time Raphael had uncomfortably suggested he leave her alone. She shook her head vehemently and wiped her eyes quietly. "No no, I am sorry. I do not usually cry but this is the nicest thing anyone has ever done for me. I was not exaggerating. My own mother never even did anything this nice for me..."

She trailed off as she walked over to the art supplies with a smile. This meant more than she could possibly put into words or tears or hugs or kisses. She wished she could explain it to him.

"You saw what I like and you gave that to me at your home. I am a guest and you went out of your way to make me happy..." Why couldn't she form the thoughts she was trying without making it weird. "Thank you," she looked back over her shoulder sheepishly. Gods, she wanted to kiss him but she had already made him uncomfortable with her crying.

Samara decided she was hiding under her covers and never coming out again.
 
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Raphael's wings quivered with his concern as she wiped at her tears and insisted she was fine. His brows drew into a deep, deep frown when she mentioned that her mother had never done anything nice for her either. His own memories of his mother were faded and some might have even been dreams he had had when locked in that cell, but all of them had been warm and full of love. That's what mothers were. Even Lorcan's mother had been warm even if she were not all there.

"Sid assured me this is what males did for females," he said awkwardly and his wings tremored again. "I don't... have much experience with... people," he managed to get out in the end and then leaned against a wall. "Is the crying because you're happy a common... emotion?"
 
Samara could see the concern written on Raphael's face plain as day and she felt terrible now. She walked back over to him and took both of his hands in hers. She looked into his eyes and spoke with all the love and kindness she felt for him.

"Sid was right. You absolutely did a wonderful thing, my sweet Raphael. It's perfect. I am just," she paused for a second with a half smiled. "a big baby sometimes. I tend to only cry when I am happy because it doesn't happen often..."

Fuck, she swore she wouldn't bring down the mood and she already failed. She just smiled at him again trying to cover up what she had just said.
 
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Raphael tucked this bit of knowledge away with as much care as one would handle a rare piece of art. Having missed out on a large chunk of his childhood when he was languishing in the underground cell of the puca people, he had missed out on learning these invaluable, crucial aspects of... life. He ruffled his wings.

"Well... then... I hope you cry more with me," he said with a lopsided smile. If crying equalled happy with her then he could handle those tears. He motioned for her to take a seat at the easel and wandered over to crouch down beside her where the pile of art supplies was laid out. Curiosity captured his gaze.

"I wasn't sure which you preferred... Lorcan favours paint."
 
Samara let out a low chuckle when he said that he hoped she cried more with him. It was nice to know that her looking ridiculous didn't scare him off. She followed his direction and took a seat at the easel before looking down at him crouched near the art supplies.

"I tend to use charcoal the most because it is dark and easy to carry with my sketchbook. I love paint when I want to make things that are colorful and pretty. Sunsets, sunrises, flowers...nature things. Pencils are good for the fine details like a close up on a flower," she smiled at him. "Honestly, it's all perfect. I love it all and I..." love that you care about me and are so kind to me. She kept the rest of the words to herself though.

"You did really well, Raph!" The enthusiasm was palpable as she spoke.
 
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Samara would never know the full extent to how much her praise meant to the battered psyche he possessed. He smiled up at her shyly and then stood, casting one more critical glance over the supplies he had gathered, before letting her words truly take root. He'd done well. She was happy. That was all he had wanted in bringing her here.

"Maybe when we visit the Orchard Lorcan will show you some of his art," his friend hadn't created for over a hundred years until he had found his mate. Now he caught him looking at things with that critical artists gaze like he was trying to piece together what colours he would have to mix to make that particular shade.
 
Samara watched Raphael as he stood. She enjoyed watching him and she realized that he might find that a little creepy. Oh well, she thought, he's survive.

"Is the Orchard that palace we flew past?" She asked as she picked up one of the palettes and some paints. Before she opened them though, she looked back at him. "What do you have planned today before I go and make a mess of myself? I can paint later."

She was beaming as her fingers ran over the texture of the blank canvas in front of her.
 
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Raphael folded his arms over his chest and watched with a warm sense of contentment as she buried herself quickly in the art supplies.

"Yes, the Orchard is what we call Lorcan's home. He doesn't like to think of it as a palace," his lips twitched with amusement. His friend was so keen to run from royal duties but didn't seem to be able to let go of the responsibilities he felt. He leaned up against the doorway and stretched then shut his wings.

"I don't have anywhere to be, it's my holiday. But there are errands I can do if you are happy here on your own."
 
The Hound set the palette down and got up to cross the opening between them. She leaned up, wrapped her arms around his neck, and gave him a kiss.

"I will be right here or down by the fire when you return, Raph." She said softly before kissing him one more time. She could easily kiss that man all day long even though he would probably have a heart attack.

She took her arms from around his neck and set her hands on his chest with a happy sigh. She looked up into his beautiful eyes before smiling slowly and stepping away.

"If you bring a ball home, I will kill you." No, she wouldn't. She would not so secretly love it.
 
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Raphael's wings half curled about them when she kissed him, like a humans toes might curl in delight. His hand came up to cup her cheek and when she pulled back he allowed his fingers to trail up into her hair. A faint smile curved his lips and gave his whole face a rather dreamy look.

"Mmm," he wanted to stay with her but he also wanted to finish up the few errands he had to do in town so he could dedicate his full attention to her. She just made it incredibly difficult. "Make yourself at home, and if you need anything Jessemay is the maid, if you call her she'll help you," the brownie liked to keep out of sight otherwise. When she stepped away he let his hand drop.

"I'll be as quick as I can," he bowed and then in a flurry of wings lifted off her private terrace and soared into the sky.
 
Samara watched him take off into the air and watched him for a bit with a smile on her face before she went and sat back down at the easel. She picked the palette up again and started to make small circles of various colors on the palette. Once she was pleased with her first selections, she moved the easel slightly sideways so she could look out over the city easily. She knew what she was going to paint. It was not a hard decision.

The shuck was not sure how long she had been painting for when she sat back and smiled at the easel. It was perfect. Beautiful. The city below mid sunset. While she thought it was great, she still didn't believe it did the city any justice. Someone would be able to capture all of its majesty perhaps, but it was not her. She only captured a tiny bit of it.

Samara stood and stretched before heading downstairs to stretch out in front of the fire. She found a book that sounded interesting and made herself comfortable on her stomach. She held the book in front of her and her legs were up in the air, crossed at the ankles. She was at complete peace right now.
 
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Raphael did complete his jobs as quickly as he could, there just happened to be more that cropped up as he went along. His presence was rare in Endora but his position had been made clear by the Prince. As such it meant that people tried to grab him when they saw him to deal with this thing or that thing. All were important, but the shadow master had no time for them. He wanted to return to his aerie as quickly as possible.

Guilt gnawed at him when he returned with the herald of night on his heels. Dusk was his favourite time in Endora but not today. Landing on the terrace outside when he didn't see her at her easel he hid the bouquet of flowers behind his back as he entered the living area.

"Sorry I took so long," he murmured, leaning down to press a kiss to her cheek then flourish the flowers with a nervous smile.
 
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