Private Tales Ash and Iron

[Maeve]

The fires guttered and died around the room and a cutting chill crept into the room. Maeve barely seemed to realise the subtle touches of frost that crept up the glass doors and fogged the mirrors at her back. Her gaze remained entirely focused on Lorcan.

"My place?" She echoed in a voice that sounded other. The shadows trembled and tried to hide in darker places. Anywhere but in front of her. She took a single step forward and the floor beneath her cracked. "Would that be in the home you stole from me with my kin?" Another step. "Or the gilded cage you've built for me here?"

 

[Lorcán]

Tendrils of shadow crawled over him, slithering and coiling around his neck & limbs, seeking to protect him from the power they sensed in Maeve. They shuddered, tightening around him, pulling him back, but he stood his ground, his black eyes never leaving her as she stepped toward him.

The composure he wore slipped as she spoke, and he instantly regretted cracking open whatever box she'd kept her honest thoughts locked up in. This was worse than a dagger to the heart. Pain rose from his chest into his throat and he swallowed, his jaw tight as he fought with the urge to fall to his knees and fucking grovel.

Lorcan locked his pain away, concealing it and masking his intention. He ignored the regret he felt, and the realisation of how ridiculous an idea this was, and continued to be..

"I did not steal you, I saved your life. You belong to me. Don't blame me for a deal your parents made. I fucking wish they hadn't."

His words seemed to surprise him, his brows lifting for a moment. He couldn't lie, not directly, and yet he really, truly wished she had never had to come here. That she'd never had to suffer at the hands of the fae. To suffer him. Because he'd rather have her safe than have her for himself.

"If you want to leave. All you have to do is ask." he growled at her, his blackened hands curling into fists by his sides.

 

[Maeve]

Younger than he, Maeve did not have the same control in hiding the whip like pain his words caused. She flinched as though he had physically struck her, eyes widening a fraction and her breathing hitching. Anger flooded her and she welcomed it if only so she could turn the pain into something else. A weapon. She had never been good at biting back her words and the flaw was only worse as a fae.

She twisted the ring off her finger and threw it at his feet.

"If only this bond were so easy to be rid of," she spat and turned on her heel and marched for the door.

 

[Lorcán]

He could feel his heart splinter and crack, and he so desperately wanted to explain, wanted to tell her how much he loved her and try to repair the wounds he'd caused her, but not now, not when she'd been so close to letting the power in her loose. He'd happily let her shatter him if it meant nobody would ever hurt her again.

He looked down at the ring as it bounced and rolled to a stop next to his foot, his eyes burning. What in the name of fuck had he done?

"We're not done here." he said with all of the conviction he could muster, but even then his voice cracked. He moved quickly, and reached to take hold of her wrist before she could leave.

 

[Maeve]

Maeve would struggle for years to put into words the force that filled her when Lorcan's fingers clasped about her wrist. It was ancient and cold, but whilst it felt alien it was also something she knew was entirely hers.

The force of pure power exploded out before she could consciously pull it back. Starlight rippled through the room, throwing him back unless he was quick enough to winnow away. But the strength of the blast did not stop with ridding her of him. It punched a hole so deep through the opposite wall, the whole section collapsed. The glass doors that had led out into the garden shattered and the unfortunate nymphs who had been tending the garden beyond screamed as stone and glass flew across the carefully manicured lawn.

The blue wolds that marked her skin shimmered with living galaxies and seemed to glide across her very skin.

"Do not, touch me," she warned in a low snarl then stalked from the destroyed sunroom, trembling with every step.

 

[Lorcán]

He didn't want to move. He wanted to feel the brunt of it, fuck, he deserved it.

Pure, cold light collided with him with the force of an anvil, knocking the air from his lungs and hurtling him into the wall with such a force that the mortar cracked and his spine screamed with pain. The weight of the rubble that came down atop him was crushing, and he felt each bone that snapped beneath it before everything fell into darkness.

 

[Maeve]

Marve managed to retain her composure until she was out of the front door. Then the tears began to fall, streaking down her cheeks leaving marks in their wake. Her thoughts were a loud roar in her ears tinged with the emotions down the bond of Lorcans pain. She tried to convince herself she wanted him to feel every broken bone, hoped that he thought of her with every pained breath.

"Maeve--" Raphael took a single step towards her then froze at the look she cut his way. He held his hands up in surrender. Instead, he only watched as she marched on.

Maeve had no idea where her feet were taking her. She only knew she wanted to be away from here. Away from him and the pain. The princess avoided the city like the plague lest one of the townsfolk she knew tried to ask her what was wrong. She stumbled instead into the unknown wild rugged beauty beyond. Once she believed herself to be alone she collapsed under a tree and let the sobs that had been clawing at her chest free. She cried until no more tears would come, then lay in the grass to bask in the emptiness she felt for it was better than pain.

"He never did learn to play nicely with his toys," a deep voice purred.

Maeve squeezed her eyes closed tighter.

"I'm not a toy. Or a pet," she spat, though her words sounded more pained than angry.

"No, you are not," the autumn king inclined his head. There was no pity in his tone, just cold truth. He extended a hand. "Why don't you show him?"

Maeve glanced up at the outstretched hand of the devil. But maybe the devil wouldn't keep her caged, if that was what those who loved her did. She didn't think beyond that and set her hand in his.

 

[Lorcán]

He wasn't sure how long he lay there for, it might've been minutes or hours. He heard his name being called in some distant part of his mind, but he didn't stir until the weight of rubble was lifted from him and his cracked chest rose. It was the most painful air he'd ever breathed, his bones grinding as he coughed at the dust he drew into his lungs.

"Mae."

What the fuck had he done?

She was gone. His eyes shot open, tears streaking through the dust that'd settled on his skin.

"Raph.. Sid.." He needed them to find her, to bring her back, to explain..He swallowed painfully, gritting his teeth as he tried to move. "Maeve.."

"Be still, Prince Lorcan, until the mender arrives." one of the Nymphs pled.

He ignored the request, though his body screamed in protest and he roared out in agony. "Where.. Is Maeve.." he trembled, his tears unbidden. The scar across his heart burned, everything fucking burned.

He searched for that bond, fearing that perhaps he'd died and severed it. Maeve, please come back.

 

[Raphael]

Raphael tried to be as gentle as he could as he forced his friend to lay back down. His wings spread to keep his balance as he crouched beside the broken Prince and kept his hands firmly on his shoulders.

His friend was not going to lay still when he found out the truth. So the Truthseeker skirted the edge of it.

"Maeve is in no immediate danger... but she is no longer in Endora. I have people watching over her," he tried to soothe.

 

[Lorcán]

"What?" Lorcan's eyes darkened, but it was with more fear than anger. "Where is she?.." he rasped and coughed, sending a fresh wave of pain coursing through him.

"I need to find her. This was..my fault." his eyes rolled as he fought against the unconsciousness that threatened to pull him back under and let him forget the pain. He shook his head in attempt to stay awake, but he let out another sharp cry at the white hot agony burned down his back.

"Fuck." his voice cracked as he choked on a breath.

 

[Raphael]

Raphael and the Nymph shared a look.

"What matters is she is okay," the puca soothed and once more gently but firmly pushed his friend back down into a still, flat position. "We can discuss it when your spine isn't sticking out your back," he grimaced as he peeked at the wound.

The mender took that moment to arrive, warily stepping through the gaping hole.

"I take it the plan to grovel did not go well."

 

[Lorcán]

"I fucked up.." he answered through gritted teeth, his bleary eyes blinking hard in effort to stay awake. He tried his best to ignore the mender and his work. It didn't matter how many times he'd had to have flesh and bone healed in the past, the sensation made him nauseous.

"I pushed her too hard.. I just.." he hissed as a bone snapped back into place, his eyes squeezing tightly closed. "I... wanted her to know what she was c-capable of. I need her to be safe." he swallowed.

He turned his head, regardless of the pain. Seeing the ring laying there in the dust was more painful a thing than a broken spine. His chest felt as though another wall had landed atop it. "It was only a matter of time before I pushed her away." he frowned..

"She wants to go back. Will you take.." snap. "Fuck!" he snarled. "Will you take her back for me?.."

 

[Raphael]

Raphael warily looked at the caved in wall. A team of fae had arrived with the gifts and knowledge to keep it from weakening the foundations of the rest of the manor house.

"I think we've all seen what she's capable of now," he glanced down at Lorcan with a scowl. He could understand his friends motives but it didn't stop him thinking he was a fool for taking the risk. They had all known her powers were deep and dangerous, could sense it on her the same way they could sense Lorcan's or Midir's magic. Playing with unknown magic was a recipe for disaster.

The mender very gently rolled Lorcan onto his side to get a better look at his back.

Raphael took the moment of distraction to clear his throat and say, "She ah, didn't want to go home. At least not her home."