Private Tales The Lost Princess and The Exiled Prince

[Maeve]

"Maybe that's what we can do this week," Maeve mumbled sleepily. "Write a song," she yawned and stretched then slowly lay down on the sofa as her eyes drew shut. It sounded like another good way to pass their time as she healed. In a way she felt like she was holding him back; she knew and now she understood why he wanted to get rid of the problem.

"You know..." she gave another yawn. "If you did want to find those tribals sooner I bet the Wind could ... show.... you ..." her voice slowly trailed off as she slipped into sleep.

 

[Arun]

The words sent a surge through him.

Arun recognized the feeling almost instantly, the urge that struck him like a hammer. Goosebumps rushed over his skin and a breath surged into his lungs. An odd shade of purple slipped into his iris, lips thinning to a line.

His fingers curled into a fist, and he heard the wood of his armchair splinter and crack. "Do not."

There was a desperate hoarseness to his voice as he slowly stood.

"Show me." Was he talking to her? To the wind? Arun did not know, but he slowly stepped over to the sofa. He pulled a blanket slowly over Maeve, the odd purple still seeping into his eyes as he tucked her in and turned away.

His steps sounded louder as he moved outside.

 

[Maeve]

Maeve was sound asleep making the barest and softest of noises as he tucked her in and she wriggled her way further into the blankets.

As he stepped outside though the presence Maeve called the Wind greeted him. It swarmed around him lifting odd leaves and sticks and cones that had fallen from the branches up above. The voices were like a soft swarm. Keen ears might be able to make out a thousand different tiny voices that made up one single voice.

Little Prince, Little Prince
We can show you the way
Little Prince, Little Prince
We can help you make them pay.

The air had been tight around him but now it spread out as it laughed. Then again it was a whirl, picking up more assortments so that it could be seen it hung like a coiled ribbon caught on a breeze before him.

 

[Arun]

His teeth ground. "No."

The thing in the back of his head seemed to creep forward, the odd lashed of purple crawling through his eyes as he snapped his attention away from the wind.

It wouldn't take us long. The voice echoed in his head. It was his own. Wasn't it? It was just him there. The thing in his mind was just...it was just him. Arun knew that. He had watched in the mirror.

There was no demon, no monster lurking in his skull. It was just him. They torture. They beat. They rape.

Yes.

Arun knew it.

I'll kill them. There was no other side. There was no other being. It was just him.

Only him. "Show me."

 

[Maeve]

The laughter that echoed throughout the trees was one of pure delight.

* * *​

The Wind gently trailed itself across her face causing her to frown in her sleep. She half batted at it and for a moment it seemed to disperse and she settled back into the cushions, before it returned once more to play with the strands of her hair that had fallen over her face.

"Goawaylemmealone," she pulled the blanket over her head then it tore her from her hands and she gave it a few choice words. Her head was pounding as she sat up and she groaned, staring at the empty bottle. Oh God, what a mistake. She didn't get much more time to dwell on it before the wind was pushing at her back, forcing her to her feet.

"OK!" she shouted angrily. "Gods," it pushed and pulled and twirled her to the door then out of it. Maeve froze when she saw the sight in front of her. Arun had his back against the cottage wall but he was coated in blood.

"Arun?" her voice was barely above a whisper as she simply stared, trying to see if he was actually breathing. "ARUN?!" Mae was on her knees beside him a second later, her hands fluttered over him as she wrestled with her overriding fear of touch turning to something horrific, before she finally did cup his cheeks, smearing a bit of blood across his skin.

"What did you do..."

 

[Arun]

Arun blinked as he felt his face dragged down to peer at her.

One eye was an odd pale yellow, the other a deep purple. "I killed them."

His words were soft, so soft that it would be hard for even her to hear them. His chest rose in slow and steady breaths, head cocking to the side as he felt her fingers slowly running over his cheek. A part of him quivered at the touch, but another stayed firm.

Almost as though he didn't understand.

"Slaughtered those who kept you." He continued in that same melancholy tone. "And set the rest free."

It had been a massacre.

Wounds crossed his body like lattices of a web, cuts in the odd mail like shirt he wore were obvious, an oddly bright blood seeping from them. There was no danger of his passing, but it was clear that the battle had not been entirely one sided.

A breath filled his lungs.

 

[Maeve]

Maeve wasn't sorry for their loss. Her lips pressed into a grim flat line as she watched searched his gaze and then, slowly, she nodded. From one warrior to another she accepted it and asked no more. Instead she looked over his body and grimaced. Her hands dropped from his face to desperately press at the cuts which looked the worse, blood seeping through her fingers.

"Can you help?" she looked up to where she knew the voices were, where she could sense them, and received only a gentle caress as her response. Her anger spiked but she turned her eyes back to him. There was noway she could move him on her own and he didn't look like he could move either.

"Ok... ok... it's going to be ok," whether she was talking to him or herself it was unclear as she gently began to pry the shirt off of him. Once it was gone and discarded to one side the sight of his wounds was more clear. She was no medic but it looked bad. Mae pressed her hands over the worst flash across his chest where the blood was gushing from. She needed to get a bandage, needed to stop the bleeding.

Something slowly turned and then.... clicked.

Her hands began to glow. The smell of summer grass washed over them both and it would feel akin to the suns kiss touching his skin as the pale yellow almost white light seared through his flesh and knitted together. Ribbons leapt off the main burst of energy, threading and dancing over his skin to heal the other major injuries. Nothing was perfect, it would still be sore and red marks would still be seen but as her hands fell away the bleeding had stopped and everything was sealed to the point stitches wouldn't be needed.

A wave of exhaustion hit her and she fell back form him with gasping great inhales of breath.

 

[Arun]

Arun did not truly comprehend what was happening, his mind fractured and wandering off elsewhere. It all seemed to slip away.

The understanding of it wasn't there. Yet the effects were. The Elf felt his wounds knit closed, could see the bleeding stop. His gaze cast down, head cocking as the odd ribbons of energy began to flow and flick over his wounds.

His eyes focused upon the magic, and slowly as it did it's work the odd purple lines within his iris' began to bleed backwards.

The magic cast upon him drew away his wounds, knitting him back from the pieces he had been in. His mind itself seemed to pull back from the place it had found itself, the color of his right eye slowly filtering to it's normal yellow as Maeve's magic disappeared in a wisp.

Then she fell back.

Without thinking Arun reached out, both of his arms quickly snapping forward as he caught her before she could touch the ground.

 

[Maeve]

She couldn't have been out for more than a few seconds, maybe a minute tops, but when she woke she was in his arms. The first feeling wasn't fear though it was relief. Relief he was ok. Her hands were still covered in his blood but she seemed to have forgotten that as she wiped one down her face. If her headache hadn't been bad before it was like a whole drumming band had set up shop in her head now making so much noise she thought it might split apart.

What the fuck had that been? Liath's words rung in her ears about her magics appearing with age linking to the gift she had been given. Well, she had been given life. Healed. Did that mean...?

"Are you ok?" her voice was groggy as she tried to examine his chest for the wounds that had been there only a split moment before.

 

[Arun]

"I'm fine." He said softly, his voice so low that he could barely hear it.

The Elf was not sure if he was telling the truth, was not sure if a lie had spilled from his lips. Memories of the night before were still at the forefront of his mind.

It had been a massacre, an orgy of blood and death the likes of which he had not seen in over a hundred years. A part of him was terrified. He knew what he had done, he knew what had crept from the depths of his soul.

Yet he did not regret it an ounce.

They had harmed Maeve, tortured her, and he had righted that wrong. What was there to feel guilty of?

"Are you?" He asked softly.

 

[Maeve]

She hadn't heard his words but Maeve's careful examination showed on slight red welts that would heal in a few days of their own accord so she let her blood hands drop and her head roll against his chest. What little energy she had had been ripped from her in order to fuel her magic. His soft question was sweet and even as her eyes drifted shut she smiled faintly.

"If my head didn't hurt before it bloody does now," she muttered. The Wind drifted around them both almost as though it were excited.

It begins.

It begins.

He will come.

Maeve's eyes opened as she watched the swirl of air rush upwards into the branches overhead and narrowed them. Because that wasn't ominous in anyway at all.

 

[Arun]

Arun listened to the wind, bu tin the haze of his fractured mind he did not truly understand what any of it meant. In that moment he didn't really care all that much either.

"Let me get you to bed." The Elf said softly.

His arms wrapped around her a little bit more tightly, only half aware that as he pulled her closer more of the blood on his torso was smeared onto her. With a comically small amount of effort Arun lifted her from the ground, forgetting the unspoken rule she had placed between them.

The Elf scooped her off the ground, taking steady steps into the tree-house and heading towards the bedroom.

 

[Maeve]

Maeve barely registered the fact more blood was getting on her and the tunic she wore - it was his anyway, her mind reasoned deliriously in the back of her mind. There was no argument from her as he picked her up and carried her back inside, accepting this brief touch for the greater good of her well being. But once he had placed her down she didn't let go of his hand.

"Wait," he looked as tired as she felt even though she knew elves didn't feel it as much as humans, at least, from what he had told her. Even so... "You look as rough as I feel," she tried to smile but it was a tired thing. She scooted across to the far side of the bed, rearrange some of the cushions so there was a small lumpy wall between them, then coaxed him down into the bed.

"You need sleep too," she only let go of his hand when she was sure he wouldn't leave at least until she was asleep, and shuffled until she got herself comfortable on her part of the bed.

 

[Arun]

Arun stayed.

In fact, he slept.

The conscious part of him had intended to go, to drag himself away and disconnect himself from the situation. The piece of him that had brought him to this exile, the greater and more logical whole that should have prevailed.

But it didn't.

Whatever piece of him forced him to stay, whatever part knew himself better than he did prevailed. As he lay there his eyes folded closed, and for the first time in a hundred years Arun fell asleep.

 

[Maeve]

Mae didn't remember falling asleep and when she woke the light outside was the pale dawn light of another day. She had slept the whole day away. Her head felt like it was packed full of wool and she could barely lift it from her pillow. Instead she simply lay there for a while longer with her eyes closed to see if she would drop back off to sleep but several things were demanding her attention so eventually she peeled herself out of bed. Arun was still fast asleep and so still she was almost afraid he was dead, but the rise and fall of his chest convinced her otherwise.

Silently she slipped from the room and sorted out the biological needs that had woken her, grabbed a glass of water, then tried to scrub his blood off her hands and face. She ended up taking off the tunic and soaking it in the tub outside after retrieving a new one. Once she was sorted she carried her water, and another glass for him, back to the bedroom and set them both on the bedside table.

Only then did she crawl back into the bed and fall asleep for another few hours.

 

[Arun]

Arun did not stir for another few hours, a century of missing sleep catching up to him.

It was not the sun that woke him, not Mae moving around and gathering herself, but instead the simple sounds of wind rushing through his cabin.

Eyes popped open in an instant, as if he'd heard thunder trike.

Deep purple decorated his Iris', though it seemed to fade away in an instant as he blinked and reached up to rub some of the sleep from his eyes. Head shook, and he slowly glanced to the left in search of the sound he'd heard.

When nothing came, he looked left.

Shock colored his face as he noticed Maeve behind the small barrier of pillows. Arun froze, not moving as he watched Maeve sleep, her face close enough that he felt her breath on his face.

 

[Maeve]

Thick red locks fell about her face as she slept, her chest rising and falling in quick shallow breaths that indicated she was dreaming about something exciting or dangerous, though no frown marred her brown and she otherwise looked calm. One of her hands rested on top of the pillow and the other was buried beneath the blankets. Occasionally in her sleep her nose would twitch or she might mutter some word or other. It was nearly midday when she finally did wake, the height of the sun demanding her attention.

Slowly her eyelids lifted and the light fractured against her green eyes making them look like a perfect pair of jewels. She blinked once to clear her vision, Arun's face coming into focus, before she smiled and shut them once more.

"I left you some water," was her only comment as she buried her face back into the pillow and let the warmth of the sun wake her up naturally.

 

[Arun]

"Thank you." Arun said, though he did not move.

In truth his body craved sustenance of some sort. Water likely would not do, but he felt weaker than he would have liked to admit. It felt as though he had not eaten in days. The exertions he had put upon his body had been far more than he would have liked.

All control had been lost, and there had been so much blood...yet strangely enough it was not what most worried about.

"I am sorry." Arun said quietly, not quite sure if she had fallen back asleep or was just hiding her face. "I left you here alone."

A pang of guilt ran through him for that, something he could not help.

 

[Maeve]

One eye opened at his words. She hadn't even thought about that in truth. For a moment she simply stared at him then she gave him a slow and lazy blink before pulling the blankets up around her, cocooning herself.

"I was fine, it all worked out," there was no point in dwelling on the what ifs of the matter. "I doubt many people know where you live anyway," who else would have come for her? The only other person aside from the Tribesmen would have been the Fae and he wouldn't have hurt her per see. She also very much doubted even Arun would have been much use against him.

"Worry less, rest more," she instructed then reached over and pulled his own half of the blanket up him and tucked him in.

 

[Arun]

As she reached over Arun gently caught her hand.

The touch was soft, soft enough that she could have easily pulled away should she have chosen to do so. "Still."

It had worked out, he knew that, understood it, but in his mind that did not necessarily make it any better. He had promised her that she would be safe there, had said it on her first day there. That promise had been abandoned for his own bloodlust.

That was exactly why he had gone into Exile.

"I am sorry all the same." Arun said softly, letting out a breath and letting some of regret show on his face.

 

[Maeve]

Maeve stiffened when he took her hand but she didn't pull away. Instead she took a slow breath in for three counts then let it out, relaxing her body as she did so. She had to get over this issue. She couldn't let what had happened to her in that camp cloud her interactions with people for years. What if she went to a market and someone brushed against her, what was she going to do? Go curl up in a ball and cry?

Weakness led to death.

Which was why her lips pressed into a thin line as Arun continued on with his apology. Her hand was quick as she moved her hand not away from him but to grip his chin with surprising firmness.

"You went and rid this world of people who rape, torture, and kill. Do not apologise," her eyes were on fire as she caught and held his gaze.

 

[Arun]

Shock colored his features for a moment and he stared at her. His jaw tightened for a brief moment.

The words were not easy ones to accept.

Perhaps in her culture such a thing was more of a normality, but where he came from? Things would not have moved so quickly. There would have been discussion, debate, a judgement. It would have taken weeks. That was why his father wouldn't have done anything.

Yet he had all taken it into his own hands. The decision had been his, the moment his. The slaughter all his. Who was he to have made that decision.

The fingers on his chin held him.

Perhaps it had not been his decision. Perhaps it had been hers. "Okay."

He said softly in agreement.

 

[Maeve]

Mae held him for a while longer as if making deathly certain he meant his words before she gave the slightest nod and let him go. It was like a different person as she flopped back down onto the pillows with a content and happy sigh. He might have had mixed feelings about it but there was a weight off of her chest now that they were gone. One less group on her heels that she would be looking over her shoulder for. For a while longer she stared at the ceiling lost in those thoughts.

"How are your wounds?" she asked gently after a period of quiet. She turned her face towards him but didn't move from her position on her back. The alcohol was wearing off now and the pains of her injuries were coming back so she didn't want to move too much.

 

[Arun]

Arun glanced down, almost as if he'd forgotten that he'd been wounded at all.

The tribe had proven to be skill, though that hadn't been too much of a surprise. Even as little more barbarians, his kinfolk were still dangerous with or without weapons. He had managed to kill a great many of them in silence, but even that had come to an end eventually.

"They are..." The Elf glanced down, running a hand over his torso in consideration. "Better."

Better than hers certainly. "I was not aware that you could heal."

There was a small amount of surprise still in his voice, though mostly because he would have assumed she'd heal herself by now.

 

[Maeve]

"Me neither," Maeve looked at him for a while longer then back to the ceiling. There had been just a touch of fear in her eyes.

"Liath told me this could happen, that gifts relating to the boon given would manifest when I reached the time the other end of the bargain should be met," the words the wind had said so soon after his healing hadn't disappeared from his mind. Whenever she used her gifts would he be able to sense her in some weird way? Find her? She needed a weapon and soon.

"I'm not entirely sure how to control it - the wind isn't mind to command. Not really. I can borrow its gifts when it wants me to but other times...." she shook her head. Unless it met with the voices needs she wouldn't be granted access. It was why she had been captured in the first place.