Private Tales Why start a war if not for love?

[Midir]

With Spring the Erlking returned to the Court of Autumn. From where? Most people didn't know and he preferred to keep it that way. His winter break was a time both he and the Court needed in which to rest, to be themselves, and forget the hardship of the rest of the year. But Spring, as lovely as it was to see things come back into bloom, brought with it the yoke of work and it wasn't just Midir that was feeling it more keenly this year. The balance of Good and Evil, Light and Dark, Night and Day it was... shifting. It was a sensation that was hard to describe to a fae who had not paid homage to Autumn. But his people felt it in their bones. It made them look over their shoulders when they walked home at night, made a father lash out at his children's well meaning questions, made a husband stay drinking longer at the tavern. It was an edge whetted to a razors point and ready for blood.

Midir was not sure where exactly that honed blade would plunge. He glanced at the notes on his desk.

On the one hand there was the glaring issue of the Night Court. The civil war in recent months had begun to pick up and reports were coming in of kidnappings and forced oath swearing. It was not just his court taking in refugees from fae who had managed to escape but there was little he could do for those who had Sworn. The war was soon to spill out and consume more Courts as the two Princes fought for a broken and twisted crown.

But then, there was Summer. A Court who troubled him far more. Unlike the Night Court they did not wear their evil on their sleeves but moved in the shadows. If the whispers he had heard were true his niece had killed King Oberon and several other High Lords in different Courts as a part of her game. The girl had stopped replying to his letters too and by what Raphael reported from his spies she hadn't been seen outside the Palace for longer.

"Sire?"

Midir glanced up from his parchment to the slender sidhe standing in his doorway. Her wings quivered when she felt the weight of his gaze on her.

"Y-your son is here to see you."

 

[Lorcán]

This had not been an easy decision.

Anxious adrenaline thrummed through him as he strode purposefully for his father's study. The fight with Maeve was still fresh on his mind, and knowing that she wasn't far away was no comfort to him, not today. He'd have far preferred to suffer the taught chord of distance between them than the fear he felt at having brought her so near to his father.

Shadows coiled and curled over his black shirt and around the visible skin at his neck and forearms, his black feathered wings at his back dissipating like smoke as he fell into an armchair and crossed his ankles with a sigh, his dark eyes falling on the Erlking.

"I won't take up too much of your time." he rumbled, his chest rising and falling with a deep breath. "I need soldiers. I need Sidereal and Raph at my sides, and I plan to pay a visit to the Summer Court. They've offended me grievously and I intend on repaying those responsible ten-fold. I'll do this whether or not I have your blessing, but I need your authorisation to take reinforcements." he frowned, studying his hand rather than look his father in the eye.

This had not been an easy decision...

 

[Midir]

"No - How was your holiday, father?" Midir asked with a quirk of a single white brow as he slowly leaned back in his seat. The sarcastic quip was a way to give himself more time to process the curve ball his son had unknowingly flung his way. Did he have any idea of the delicate situation the Courts were in right now? Probably not given by his sulking posture and the way he barely glanced at his own father.

He tried to contain a sigh.

"We cannot just start a war with Summer because your cousin insulted your clothes again," Tatiana had a habit of not making friends, least of all amongst her family. "There are greater threats I need to consider here, Lorcan."

 

[Lorcán]

Lorcán's dark brows rose in feigned surprise. "Oh.. You were gone?.." he asked rhetorically, and the gold in his eyes glinted dangerously with the rage that simmered in him. He'd never cared to hide the shadows that coiled over his skin despite being aware that he quite literally wore his heart on his sleeve. Fury and fear caused the smoky tendrils to wrap around him like a lover's embrace as though seeking to protect him from whatever challenge he faced. Some had tried to take advantage of it in the past, but if anything Lorcán's emotions only made him more dangerous, and as quickly as he could blink, those shadows could shift from the coiling smoke and flowing wisps to something as sharp and solid as butcher's knives.

The male in front of him had been the only one Lorcán had ever felt weak against, and it fucking infuriated him. "Please." his eyes rolled. He'd always been a smug little brat about his appearance. As Fae went, he was quite simply a handsome bastard and his clothes were nothing short of pristine. "Tatiana can go fuck herself. A friend of mine was captured and tortured on her watch - as far as I'm concerned, the entire place can burn. You preach of the balance of things. Give me the bastards who did it and let me repay what is owed. Or do we have no principles here any more?..." the Prince's head tilted and his fingertips drummed on the arms of the chair he so casually lounged in.

"With all due respect, Father, I didn't come to ask permission, I came to ask for support."

 

[Midir]

Midir's tight-lipped smile issued in response to his sons little quip begun to die when he gave away further details as to why he suddenly wished for a war. His face turned cold, stony, and an energy of tightly controlled power filled the room.

"Are they a member of my court, Lorcán?" he asked quietly. There were many things the Prince got from the Erlking and the worst among them was his temper. But whereas Lorcán's was still worn upon his sleeve, Midir's was a quiet and deadly thing made all the worst by the sheer enormity of the power that rested behind it. Very calmly, too calmly, Midir arranged the papers on his desk and asked.

"Who did they hurt?"

 

[Lorcán]

A muscle feathered in Lorcan's jaw. He hadn't expected his father to ask no questions, but the last thing he wanted to do was answer them. The shadows thickened and tendrils of it climbed over the bare skin of his throat as he swallowed. An answer had danced on the tip of his tongue, one likely to inflame the temper he'd been subjected to so many times over. Had this just been about him, he'd have said it. 'She's a member of my fucking court.' Instead the arms of the chair he sat in groaned as his grip on them tightened and he allowed a breath to tumble free.

"Yes." he answered reluctantly and tried not to do so through gritted teeth. Maeve had absolutely nothing to do with the Erlking and that was the way he intended it to stay. But he wasn't foolish enough to go to the Summer court alone, and if he wanted help, then his father had to feel insulted. "A recent member, and one under our protection. The matter of who should make no difference."

 

[Midir]

"Until you pluck up the courage to finally drive that sword of yours through my heart, son, you don't have a Court," he quirked a brow. "Perhaps my visit will remind you your little island isn't an independent nation," he was lashing out unnecessarily and cruelly, even he could tell that and he regretted it the moment the words left his lips. But the thought Summer had dared to touch a member of the Autumn Court, whether Lorcán wanted to see them as such or not, was infuriating.

It took more effort than it had a year ago to unpry the claws of his magic from the room where it was bearing down like an oppressive weight. He drew it back tightly inside and clamped it down like an iron vice.

"I know you think me a monster Lorcán but I have a duty to anyone who is within this court, it is in the Oaths. I need to know who was hurt and... how they were hurt."

 

[Lorcán]

If his jaw clenched any tighter his teeth might crack. His gaze darkened as it rose to meet that of his father’s and he let out a nasal breath rather than answer with the thoughts currently on his mind.

He looked away with a sneer, a wave of dark hair falling into his eyes as his head shook and he gave a mirthless laugh. He couldn’t help it. He was a monster.

“I was in your fucking court.. That didn’t stop you trying to kill me.” Nor the several different kinds of pain the male had put him through. His hand dragged across his brow as he cleared his throat, stopping himself from going on.

“Her name is Maeve, and they captured her, and left her with Mercutio for hours..” To get to me… He omitted that part, not only because it pained him to say it, but because he’d rather not allude to her importance to him.

His mind spiralled back to the thought of the male clutching his mate’s beaten face…
What did you do to her? She's very tight-lipped about the whole affair no matter how much I made her scream. Oh and you did scream, didn't you Maeve dear? Would you like a demonstration My Prince? After all, it seems she has made off with some of your little gifts, some of ours too. An interesting, interesting creature. One well worth starting a war over don't you think?

Yes.. Yes she was.

 

[Midir]

Midir's tight lipped smile in response to his snarled response of his own treatment was the picture of cruelty. Though if anyone cared to look - particularly in his eyes - they would fine no satisfaction in it. No mirth nor humour. One day the boy would understand how it had all been a part of a plan to ensure he won his sons hatred and with it secured his son's position on the Autumn Throne.

The smile didn't last long however with the mention of Mercutio. Raphael was a brilliant wielder of the blade. He could coax secrets and confessions forth like nobody he had seen before. But Mercutio did it for pleasure. There was no balance to the man and his job.

"They must have thought her important to give her to the main inquisitor. Did they ask her anything?" what were they looking for? "Are others in the Court... compromised?" he did not know how much this Maeve knew of Autumn and if she was friends with his son it could be a dangerous amount.

 

[Lorcán]

"She didn't tell them a thing." The words were cold and sharp, and they sprung from his tongue before he had realised. He reigned himself back and swallowed. He did not want to relive this again for fear of what he'd do. When she'd said goodbye to him, he'd destroyed so much. Villages, towns, forests, all left to waste thanks to his pain. Maeve had been safe, then. Unhurt. His fury now burned far greater and he'd been holding it back for too long.

"She'd been with me." he said gruffly, knowing what his father would likely assume from that comment given his reputation. "I suppose they caught my scent on her. They asked her about me, and about you, and Raph. I don't think Tatiana knew. I went there myself and brought Maeve back to Endora.. He'd been using iron.." Lorcán trailed off, his head bowing and the arms of the chair finally splintering in his hands. His eyes closed. He could always feel his vision shift when the black of his pupils bled over the gold and whites. The room itself started to darken, his shadows swirling over the floor, soaking in what light was available and snuffing it out.

"Please. I've left it long enough."

 

[Midir]

Midir's face didn't so much as twitch when his son explained how he knew this other fae. Whilst he wished his son would have better taste or at least more restraint, he could hardly hold it against the boy when the fae were as they were. He just wished his son would be more than what they were. Still, Lorcan not meeting his expectations did not warrant another being hurt. Especially not someone who was under his protection as a member of his court. At the mention of iron the magical energy in the room seemed to come to a peak.

"Iron..." he repeated calmly and lethally. His fingers played over the pieces of paper on his desk as he thought it all through. The use of iron, whilst it could be done, was as close to a war crime as the fae got. The use of it on their own kind, knowing the pain and irreparable damage it caused...

It certainly wasn't a technique they would waste on anyone. They must have really thought this girl could have given them what they wanted. Either that or there was a piece Lorcan was missing out.

"Summer cannot be left to get away with this, of course, but Lorcan... we cannot simply dive straight into a war," he sighed and for once sounded... genuinely regretful. "There are other players on the board, other things in the balance to consider. We need to know exactly who gave this order too. Tatiana will deny any knowledge if we throw it in her face now."

 

[Lorcán]

Only his father could conjure this level of frustration. Even with his eyes closed and his head bowed, he could feel the way he so calmly tried to deal with this, the sound of his fingers scraping over paper. His jaw ached from the way he held back from outright demanding the elder male's help. That he was here requesting such a thing in the first place was enough to cause his insides to squirm with shame. He had to restore the balance, and it simply couldn't wait any longer. Maeve had healed, physically at least. She was safe and settled, and he'd allowed this growing urge for violence to fester at the back of his mind every day since he'd brought her home from that place.

Summer cannot be left to get away with this, of course...but Lorcan...

But... His eyes opened at the word and the pure black orbs rose to look at the Erlking, biting his tongue so hard it bled and he swallowed the coppery tang of it as he allowed his father to finish speaking, but only just. Ebony claws grew at the tips of his fingers, blackened skin spread from them toward his elbows in slithering tendrils, and his hands rose and slammed back down onto the desk so hard the entire thing cracked.

"Fuck that!" he snarled. "The balance has already been disturbed and they gave no fucks when they took my mate and tortured her to get to me. I won't live with it for another day, never mind give you time to consider what they did not!!" the timbre of his voice might've shaken mountains. The building around them trembled, and whatever light remained in the room was snuffed out entirely as the darkness engulfed them.

He had faced his father countless times, he'd been so enraged that he'd intended to kill him on several occasions, but today, right now he felt more dangerous than he'd ever felt in his life and he was certain that regardless of who stood against him, he'd destroy them.

 

[Midir]

When they took my mate.​

She was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. Mousy brown hair with flecks of auburn and chestnut that glinted when the curls hit the sunlight just so. Freckles dotted across her nose and eyes the colours of warm honey that crinkled when she smiled. And when she smiled at him he would have brought the world to his knees had she asked...

The memory felt so real that when it faded it took him a full minute to remember the reality of where he was and that the woman in those memories, who had danced with him one Summer Solstice, was dead.

"Your mate," he repeated calmly, quietly. Now the reason behind this anger made far more sense. A lot of things made more sense in fact about his sons sudden U turn in behaviour. He tried to think back to when it had begun to change. "The... redhead, at the hunt."

 

[Lorcán]

Your mate...
​

His dark brow furrowed with sudden anger and confusion, thinking at first that the Erkling had jumped to an assumption.. before he realised what he'd said. The Autumn Prince froze, staring wordlessly at his father, his expression paused of all emotion as his mind darkened to nothing. It was fear, he realised. The fear that had been the sole reason for him wanting to keep Maeve on an island that his father could visit only once per year.

A pregnant silence fell before the audible sound of him swallowing broke it. There was little point in denying what he'd said now, it wouldn't do much good, nor would being angry... So instead he composed himself as much as was possible despite everything he felt in that moment.

"You won't set a foot anywhere near her..." he said quietly. "If I hear so much as a whisper of any malicious intent toward her from you, or anyone under your influence, I'll burn this entire fucking court to the ground, rip the heart from your chest, and eat it." he warned, his voice cold and clear.

He stood slowly, never taking his black eyes from his father as he moved. "I'm going for Mercutio, whether I have your support or not. I don't have a choice."

 

[Midir]

Midir said nothing whilst his son's anger honed to such a razor sharp edge he wondered if his very breath might be cleaved by it. Instead he merely sat, unblinking, and listened calmly to the threat against his life (an inventive one and not one he had heard before) and then to his ultimatum. Young, so young his son was. He wasn't ready yet but he might soon have to be if the whispers of this power grew stronger.

Suddenly he stood.

"Walk with me," he motioned towards the glass doors to the side of his study that opened onto one of the many internal gardens the past Erlkings had left to stay wild. He didn't even look over his shoulder to see if his son was following but waited for him to come alongside him before he began to talk, hands clasped behind his back.

"I shan't touch your mate, Lorcán. That bond... it is a blessing I would not wish to deny even my enemies. And I... understand the fear that drives you. To lose a mate..." shadows clouded his face.

 

[Lorcán]

His eyes followed the movements of his father carefully, a sharp huff escaping him as he relented and turned reluctantly to follow, his shoulders rolling against the tension that'd quickly built in them. The pair had never spent much meaningful time together, had not had many conversations that had not swiftly descended into fury and violence and pain, and so Lorcan was ever cautious.

It was no secret that the Prince was a disappointment to his father, nor that The Erlking was loathed by his son. Lorcan would never forget a moment's suffering he'd endured at his hand, not the countless challenges he'd lost nor the punishments he'd been dealt, nor what he'd done to his former lover - the cruelty of which had shocked even the Prince. He would not forget the agony of dying in his mate's arms after three long days of pain.. Thank whatever Gods existed for her. His life was hers, and he'd protect her with everything he had.

To be talking about her with his father was of great discomfort to him. He reached out, checking that she was okay, as though in the single minute that his father had now known of her he'd somehow have sent someone to find her. His dark brow furrowed at his father's promises, at first in confusion, and then in distrust. It wouldn't have been the first time he'd believed that the Erlking would not sink below the worst of monsters. In his eyes, if his father could hurt him, he would - and now he'd painted a huge Maeve-shaped target on his back.

He'd been about to cut him off when he mentioned losing a mate, and his head turned to look at him in scrutiny. Words escaped him, and for a fleeting moment he'd been about to push for further information, had been about to offer some sort of sympathy that his father had suffered the unthinkable, but instead he looked away and let his bitterness sit on his tongue.

"I don't believe that you understand anything about me." he answered dryly. "But if you claim to understand what I feel right now then offer your support and refrain from wasting your breath and my time on whatever ill-timed, father-son pep-talk you had planned."

 

[Maeve]

The lightest touch of reassurance came in the form of a brush of her scent across his memory, of honeysuckle and fresh hay, and the echo of her lips against his cheek.

Safe.

 

[Midir]

Midir stopped by a brightly coloured orchid that had wrapped itself lazily around a Kapok tree and dangled from one of its many branches. His fingers lightly brushed a bud which shuddered and then bloomed to life. As it did one of the weeds at his feet collapsed into a decomposing heap.

"I am offering you support, Lorcan. I'm just asking that we do this in a...." he pressed his lips together. Civilised. Patient. Careful. None of the words were ones that his son would be in the mood to entertain when it came to the court that had hurt his mate. He gave a sigh and then glanced across to his son with the full weight of his gaze.

"You and I will never be father and son. One day you will understand why I pushed you the way I do, why I treat you as I do. But by then it will be too late. So if I am permitted one ill-timed father-son heart to heart let it be on the important subject of your mate."

 

[Lorcán]

The Prince's dark lashes lowered slightly as his father paused, giving him a look that simply said 'don't'. If the male was about to tell him to be calm or civilised or anything else that bid him to keep his temper, It was a sure-fire way to ensure he'd lose it entirely.

What he said next caused his expression to pause. He hadn't expected him to say it, but he certainly hadn't expected it to hurt. It wasn't like he hadn't wanted a father, but even as a child he hadn't been able to forge such a bond with him. The thought caused waves of anger and pain and sadness and bitterness to crash together in his mind, a tidal wave of emotions he hadn't had the time to block out. His fists curled as he turned to face him once more, about to say something bitter that would no doubt only inflame the situation. Instead came that soothing brush against his mind.

He turned to look at nothing at his side, his brow furrowing as words escaped him entirely. It was like she was right there. His hand rose to his cheek, and fell again, a shaky breath spilling free.

"Say what it is you have to say." he muttered quietly before sending back a soft sigh in a brush of affection..

Safe.

 

[Midir]

Midir watched his son closely. Every crease of the brow or angry clench of the jaw. He had every right to tell him to politely fuck off and storm out of here, and it certainly would not be the first nor last time he would ever do so, but for whatever reason Lorcan seemed to accept his request. He supposed that was all he could hope for given their relationship and how it had to be between them.

With a wave of his hand he motioned for Lorcan to sit on one of two chairs which had appeared. Midir took the other and crossed his legs at the ankles. Here in the wild gardens he looked as far from the Erlking and the most like a father he ever had.

"When I met my Mate I understood that all the stories older fae tell you hadn't scratched the surface on how it really felt. That bond," he resisted the urge to rub the hollow centre of his chest. "When she died I wanted to rip the world apart. I did, the most of it, but my actions brought disaster to the Autumn Court. To innocent people. It has taken... hundreds of years for me to repair that damage and there are fae alive who still remember what I did," he grimaced.

"As much as you'd like to distance yourself from me you are the Prince here. If you take what men you have and launch an attack on one of the most powerful Courts in the fae world, you could bring about the demise not just of your Mate but us all. We need to go about this carefully."

 

[Lorcán]

So his father truly did know what he was going through. Worse. His father had lost his mate. Lorcan didn't blame him for never having mentioned such a thing to him, and for the first time in his life he could understand why, at least in his eyes, his father seemed so fucking heartless. He was unable to resist the urge that his father had, and his hand pressed into the centre of his chest as he spoke of the bond. There was an ache there at the thought of the Erlking's pain. At the thought of any losing a mate.

He thought of the forests he'd destroyed after leaving that cabin, on his way here with the intention on killing the male in front of him, looking for someone to blame for his mate's rejection. He didn't know if there had been settlements, though if there had been, there would have been nothing left. Guilt slammed into him with all the solidity of a stone wall and he balled his fists to stop his hands from shaking. Nobody knew. Nobody but him. He'd go back, and hope to find nothing but scorched trees and blackened hills.. Otherwise he was more like his Father than he ever wanted to be.

What his father was saying finally registered on Lorcan's face, and his eyes flickered between that dark gold and solid black as he looked up at him with a half scowl. "The longer I leave it.." Lorcan drew a deep breath. It was worse than the blade his father had stabbed him with, he could feel it festering under his skin, the darkness of it spreading and spreading until he was certain it'd destroy him. "I don't know how much longer I'm going to be able to control myself.." he admitted, his head bowing below his shoulders as he leaned forward and propped his elbows on his knees.

"Did someone take her from you?" he asked quietly.

 

[Midir]

"But you will. Because you have her," Midir said with the first ever hint of confidence he had ever shown in his son. There was no hint of sarcasm or sneer. No hint of amusement or a threat. It was the single most honest thing he had ever said to his son in his whole 400 years of existence. The Erlking slowly rolled his ankle and his wine as he contemplated his son's question with a sad hint of a smile, his gaze locked on some far off point.

"I never had her to begin with," he said after a long pregnant silence where it had begun to appear as though he would never answer the question. "Her name was Soria. She used to live in the northern territories and I only met her by chance when I was positioned there under the Old King during the Feud Wars. When I saw her... well. My whole world seemed to fall away and all there was was her and this thread," he suddenly chuckled and shook his head. "I followed her in a daze as she went about her shopping in the market, followed her home. I was about to make myself known when the door opened and a child ran out," the pain even in that sentence was enough to break most hearts.

"She was happy. Married. The only thing I ever wanted in the world was her happiness so I... I left her."

 

[Lorcán]

His head still bowed, his eyes rose slowly to settle on his father's face, the dark gold rings once again visible as he calmed enough to listen. Strangely, he didn't want to rip the man's throat out for mentioning 'her'. Maeve. His mate. Even more strange was that what he said was spoken with conviction. He may not have believed in Lorcan's strength alone but with Maeve...

'I never had her to begin with..'

Lorcan swallowed hard and dropped his gaze to the floor once again. He'd known that feeling, of knowing the truth and being turned away. His father's words caused something to splinter in his chest as he imagined that sort of hollow ache. Had it been but a few more years, Maeve too might have been married with children of her own. He wanted nothing more than her happiness too, but in the moment, would he have left her to her happy life?...

He wasn't all together sure he'd have had that strength. Lorcan knew he'd been.. Difficult. At least whilst in his father's court.. Even when he'd met Maeve. He'd toyed with people. He'd destroyed lives and homes and cared about absolutely nothing other than himself and his friends. He wasn't entirely sure whether he'd worn that mask to try and win his father's approval, or to piss him off.

He let out a deep huff as he shuddered, dragging his hand down his face. He'd grown up in his shadow and yet, had never truly known him. He'd been about to let an apology slip from his lips when he stopped himself, reminding himself of every terrible thing the Erlking had made him suffer. Made his friends suffer. He was still too bitter for apologies, but at least they were being somewhat civilised.

Whether he said it or not, the fact that he felt empathy for his father was quite clear in his eyes. The shadows that'd moments ago slithered like a thousand serpents over his skin were gone and his rage had subsided, at least for now.

"I left Maeve, too. She asked me to. It was the night I came back here..." he let his words trail off, thinking that would be explanation enough. "I left her...And they took her..." he frowned.. "They'd had her for days before I realised." he growled at himself.

"An outright war might not be necessary. If the court know what was done they might see fit to hand over those responsible. I'm willing to negotiate in the first instance, but if they refuse.. I have no other terms. I'll see their entire court in ashes." he muttered.

 

[Midir]

Well, that was a lot better than setting the whole Court on fire this afternoon. Could it be that being open and more honest with his son could stop him acting so bullish in moments such as this? It was a rather uncomfortable thought but one he might now have to think about. If his son had found his mate then that changed who he was. He might no longer take the threats and punishments as he had before. An inconvenience but Midir was nothing if not adaptable. Oddly, however, the thought of ever harming this... Maeve never crossed the Erlking's mind. There was something unspeakable about harming another's mate.

"A wise decision," he inclined his head and sipped at his wine. "In the meantime while these... talks take place I will contact the other Courts. It is not just your Mate that Summer have been hurting in our Court or others. Something is happening there that I can't quite figure out..." he frowned. The Summer Queen had always been predictable unpredictable but her bouts were fiery and explosive. This subtle stabbing in the dark spoke of another mind at play.

"Raphael recently uncovered evidence that points to the fact she had King Oberon killed. I believe she is trying to weaken or dispose of the Rulers of the different Courts."

It was just the vital question of why that eluded him.

 

[Lorcán]

His father had done unspeakable things, so much so that it was difficult for him to trust that Maeve would ever be safe. She was a surefire way to get to him, the way in which any who wanted to hurt him could hurt him most. What if he grew jealous, knowing that Lorcan had what he couldn't? He could only pray that the Erlking wouldn't drag her into one of his lessons or tests, and he intended on keeping his mate well out of his sights.

The worries that swam through his mind slowed for a moment as he mentioned King Oberon, his dark eyes narrowing in confusion. "How?" he asked. "And why? What's to stop her coming after you next? We can't really afford to have meetings about this, we need to act fast before it gets even further out of control." his fists balled. He thought of Maeve, the questions they'd been asking her about him, about the Erlking. He drew a deep breath, reaching out to her, ensuring that she was still safe.