A Garden of Flowers and Bones [Lloyd Garmadon x Reader]

Chapter 8: You'll sing a song of your heart's complaint

Balthazar let out a low whistle, his form like a sturdy tree trunk at her side. Benny Butcher's place was small in the front, with tiled floors and a counter where he sold his stuff. The back room was enormous, since that's where he prepared everything. There was a big cellar used for keeping the meat cool, and he and his pregnant wife, Kyouka, and their two children, lived next door in their house.

The man was heralded as a great butcher, as he learned from his father and his father before him. His son was probably learning how to be a butcher, too (although the boy was still only a bit older than Dwyn, too young to do it professionally just yet).

"And you say you caught this all up on your own?" Benny inquired, rhetorically, "That's good field dressing. Just so you know, you don't need to bleed deer. I would do that if needed, but when it's gutted, most of the blood comes out on it's own."

He moved his finger along the jagged cut that had forced Y/N to scrub her clothes so hard and thoroughly that her fingers were red raw and stinging by the end of it.

"Uhhh, alright, yeah, I didn't... know that," She lied.

"Welp. It's not as though it matters all that much," He shrugged, "You saved me the trouble. The fact you did it alone is impressive."

"It decreases the weight of the body," Beathán stood towards the door, offering his thoughts passively, "It would be more convenient for someone whose forced to carry it on their own."

"Didn't think of that," Benny gave a short nod, "Thanks for this, Glory. I'll pass the hide along to the Tanners in advance if you want. You can pick it up for yourself later."

The perks of living in a small town: everyone knew everyone, so people naturally co-operated better.

"Nah, let them keep it and distribute it as they like," Y/N waved it off.

"You sure?" Balthazar asked, brows raised in surprise.

"The deer is yours, so the profits should be yours, as well. Else what was the purpose?" Beathán added.

Oh no. Not good. It that would genuinely be a terrible idea to tell them about the barrier (she could get lynched- which wasn't preferable), but she didn't really have a lie lined up to explain herself. Y/N wasn't exactly a natural born liar, as any one of her interactions with the Fae in the woods would demonstrate.

Bloody hell- why was she thinking about HIM again!? He should get out of her head already!!

"I dunno... I was just bored that day...?" She smiled nervously, pulling her fiddling fingers apart to make a gesture of the hands signifying 'what can you do?', "I wanted to check that I wasn't out of practice, y'know? It's been a while since I've shot from the musket."

"Must've been a good shot," Balthazar nodded approvingly.

When Y/N glanced back at Beathán, he looked strangely conflicted. Furrowed, thick brows and his jaw set closed. Not angry, per say, but there was something on his mind. Her attention was called back to Benny as he looked over the doe carcass again before smiling and hauling it over one of his shoulders.

"If you say so. I'll take this off your hands...-" He began heading to the backroom, but stopped and turned back, "While you're here, if you're still interested in getting back into practice, what do you think about joining hunting season at all? I'm sure good ol' Tommy would load up a crossbow for you."

"Uhhh... I think I'd just slow down the herd, that's the thing about that."

"It'll be Nelson's first time hunting, too. You wouldn't be the only one out of practice," Balthazar nudged her, lightly.

Y/N looked to the side with a small smile. She had no plans of joining, but it was nice of them to offer. Besides, if she kept joining once every two years, then in time it would become very obvious that she killed once in the spring/summer, and once in the winter each year, and that would surely call suspicion to her.

"I'll definitely think about it. Like I said, I was just bored so I tried it out. Who knows if that'll last, though."

Benny gave her an encouraging wink before disappearing into the backroom, the door shutting automatically behind him.

"You're not just clumsy, but you're also impulsive," Balthazar snickered, "You're a recipe for disaster."

Y/N glared and punched him in the arm- not too hard as to hurt him, but hard enough for him to know effort was put into the assault.

"Am not!"

"I strongly disagree. It's the reason you should quit sword fighting and save us both the trouble."

"You're both terrible."

Said terrible pair laughed as she made her exit, following behind her at a leisurely pace.

It was a bit of a chilly day today, hence why Y/N was wearing a button up coat. She was, however, heading straight home. Dwyn had gotten very sick yesterday. Headaches and stomach aches- a bit of vomiting. So much so that she couldn't seem to want to eat anything. The fever she had wasn't very high but Y/N had still felt the need to monitor all night and for most of the morning, too. Thankfully, she was lucid, so it wasn't heat stroke or anything. Still, she made sure the girl got plenty of water and ensured she had a cold,wet rag on the back of her neck as she was sleeping it off- since rest is good for the body.

The reason she'd come into town was to let her work know she'd be taking care of Dwyn for the next couple days, and to give in the deer (which was set to go bad soon if she didn't take it out of her cold basement). Dareth was understanding since Dwyn had gotten sick like this before.

"You can't help it. Kids can be like that. I don't know how you do it," Dareth had shaken his head before placing a hand on top of Y/N's, "You should bring her in when she's better, eh? I always hear how she's complimenting our food but I never get to see her!"

She had headed off in the afternoon once Dwyn had teetered off into a nap again, and she was sure that the girl wouldn't be sick once more, but she was keen to get back to her and nurse her to health fully.

"If you knew what was best for you, you would be careful about going into the woods," Beathán's voice came from beside her.

"Yep. If something happened to you out there, we'd have no idea, and Dwyn would be alone until one of us figured it out."

"Certainly. Venturing into the dangerous forest because you need to is one thing, but doing so out of boredom is another. You are a woman living on your own, Gloria. You of all people should understand how dangerous it is."

"I get that it's hard to hear, but we're just trying to look out for you. You're starting to worry us."

"You must cut down on your reckless habits."

"I'll say."

"Yeah, you are, and yeah, you have," Y/N sighed.

In fairness, it was absolutely reasonable for her to already be tired with these two bouncing agreement off each other. Like, when's the wedding, right?

"If everyone is saying it, then perhaps you should listen," Beathán suggested, almost sassily.

"Rude. I do my best, y'know? And I wasn't in any danger this time or else I wouldn't've gone," A blatant lie but he didn't need to know that (he was giving her a look that she avoided, suggesting that he already knew that), "Actually, Fey activity has died down a whole bunch since a bit ago. We haven't had another Black Annis attack since."

And what a coincidence that it was right around the Fae's appearance that this became the case, hm? Y/N knew better, though. Had he marked his territory down or something? Apparently other animals avoided going into areas that smelled like it was owned by something else. That's why wolves urinated everywhere, so that other wolf packs were aware of where not to go. But the thought of the Fae lifting a leg and peeing on a tree just to ward off Fey didn't sit right with her...

Perhaps they just naturally avoided areas where he appeared? She'd experienced his overwhelming presence herself, after all. She knew how it permeated through the forest like a powerful gust of wind, silencing all life in an instant, snuffing out even the quietest of chirps from a bird or stirs from rabbits in their burrows. It would make sense that Fey weren't immune to that.

"That's good. I'd wager you don't have as many nightly scares," Balthazar smiled.

She returned it, but it was sort of sorrowful as she examined the cracks and crevices in the pavement.

"Yeah. She was havin nightmares like every other night. She never screamed or anythin, like. After a nightmare, she usually just crawled into my bed quietly. Whenever I'd wake up, I'd check on her and... it was just so heartbreakin seein her cry in her sleep like that, y'know...? It's just such a relief to see her sleepin soundly again..."

"Hey," Balthazar's firm hand landed on her shoulder, "You've done all you can for her."

"Certainly. You're a good sister, Glory. Raising a child alone can't be easy. There was very little you could do about the Black Annis problem. I believe you handled it well."

"Yeah, don't worry so much. Dwyn understands, and she loves you all the same."

"She's lucky to have you. You are lucky to have each other."

With a tender heart and an expression to match, Y/N turned to look at the two of them.

"Thanks. That's very kind of you both."

"Irregardless, I hate to say it, but you'd do well to keep a close eye on your surroundings. I am tempted to say that the woods are more dangerous now than ever. After all..." Beathán trailed off, ominously, "When the predators run, it often means they've become the prey."

Y/N tried not to freeze up, stumbling a little in her next step when her knee didn't bend. The two didn't notice- or maybe they pretended not to notice. Maybe they thought it was just good old clumsy Gloria, being a silly clumsy clutz and not... the truth.

"What does that mean?" Balthazar asked, turning his head to Beathán.

"It means there may very well be a bigger fish."

Y/N's dad had used that term before, when he talked about why his nose was crooked. Hearing her mentor use it for something like this made her blood run cold.

Balthazar quirked a bushy brow.

"I haven't heard anything crop up. If there was something bigger out there, we should've run into trouble by now."

"It was just something to take into consideration," His eye swivelled to Y/N and she tried not to show any obvious change in her facial expression, smiling gingerly when their gazes met, "I'll say this only once: be careful out there. You never know what may be lying in wait."

The problem, was that Y/N did know. And she already felt like the trap had been sprung. The net had tangled around her, the jaws of the bear trap had clamped on her ankle, and the bigger fish was already on it's way to swallowing her whole. She was already in too deep to escape now.

"I'll keep that in mind, Bea. You don't need to worry about me," She closed her eyes, closing off the windows to her soul so that he couldn't pry within and see her lie.

"If Gloria got in and out safely then the rest of us probably don't need to worry," Balthazar's voice cut through the tension like butter, "Then again, I wouldn't put it passed her to annoy the one sleeping bear in the entire forest."

He looked up towards the clear, empty, periwinkle sky with a toothy grin on his face. Blunt teeth, not meant for shredding human skin. Human. For the first time in a while, a smile like that brought her ease.

"I'm not that clumsy. I know my limits-" 

A young kid tried to run between her and Balthazar, bumping her side harshly and nearly making her tumble. She righted herself as she and the kid both said 'sorry' in unison. He kept running, a few children weaving around the group of three as they rushed towards waiting mothers in the shade of a tree. Y/N didn't notice their lingering stares as they passed by.

It was a loud day, today. Summerville was alive and kicking. She sent a wave Gayle's way as they walked passed. The woman was whispering conspiratorially with another mother nearby, but paused their seemingly juicy conversation to give a sunny smile and return Y/N's greeting.

"You do not, or else you would've quit sword fighting a long time ago," Beathán insisted, sagely.

He ignored Y/N's sharp glare.

"I was prolly thinkin that Aramore was facin trouble more than us, so they went out and cut down a nearby Fey ring or somethin."

"That could be it..."

"That would certainly save us the trouble. I suppose only time will tell..." The veteran's hand landed on her shoulder, "If something happens, please tell us. I mean that sincerely."

"I will do."

"I mean it," He reaffirmed, softening his grip before pulling it away, but the imprint of his hand on her shoulder remained warm, "I must stress to you how vital it is that you rely on us. If there's something you wish to say, then you should tell us. How would we know otherwise?"

"True facts," Balthazar nodded, solemnly before lightly punching the older man in the arm with a small, teasing smile, "There's no need to be so dramatic, though, you crusty dusty war vet. I get that you're worried about our resident clutz but we don't know for certain if there's something big out there in the first place. So chill."

There was a cold blue sky to match the icy winds. Opia was like this. Though mostly through spring and autumn, with summer only warming up enough to feel comfortable, but never like the sweltering heat of Nephela, which Beathán had told her of. He had so many stories, she'd siphoned most of them out of him when he first arrived and for the first year he stayed.

On the bright side, Opia was never as cold as Shintaro's snowy mountains. The people from her old town came up with all sorts of rumours about those guys back when she was younger. That they had pet 'polar' bears- which were large, ruthless bears that could tear a man's head off with it's jaw and would stalk you for miles in the blinding white plains and swim through waters that could freeze you to death with just a touch. 

There were even claims that Shintarians could fly- that they would jump off mountains for sport and glide down with feathered shirts like bird wings made by the Fae they did dealings with.

"Well... I can't even say I care what it is..." Y/N sighed, under her breath, just sick and tired of it all, 'Just wish "it" would stop bothering me.'

Y/N was sure all those rumours were all lies, but they were very interesting to listen to. Although Y/N wasn't one for adventure or stepping out of her comfort zone, the thought of having a pair of wings and flying above beautiful sights had certainly captivated her heart in many idle daydreams. She didn't have wanderlust. She was pleased with where she was in life, even if that place was stagnant. But every human has dreamt of reaching impossible heights. Y/N was no different.

She would love to see wonderful things, like all the stories Beathán had spoken of. Glaciers that reflected clear starlight, winding forests of birch that stretched for miles, plains of fragrant and vibrant flowers she had never seen before, warm beaches of silver sand that sparkled under the sun, the vast expanse of the ocean. The aurora- floating colours like crystals colouring the sky.

"Heh, you right. Better not look a gift horse in the mouth," Balthazar inclined his head a bit in acknowledgement.

"Ahhh, but you can't take gifts from the Fair Folk," Y/N smirked, pointing a finger at him as if she had caught his hand in the cookie jar.

Travelling did not sound fun. It sounded like a hassle, and it sounded anxiety-inducing. But sight-seeing sounded incredible. Even if she could only see these things once in her life, through paintings or in her dreams, from storybooks or word of mouth, or flying through the sky on feathery wings, she would've liked to see something. Perhaps then she could have some more nice memories to recall.

In that way, she was jealous of the Fae who kept visiting her. He had beautiful wings that he could use to take him anywhere. The Fairy Realm was probably all the beauty he'd need to see in his life, and all the wondrous sights of the Human Realm was a mere shadow of what he had experienced with his own eyes his whole life. 

Fae could go anywhere and do anything with nothing to tie them down. Immortal beings, never working towards some kind of deadline. They had all of eternity to see everything they could ever see, and meet everyone they could ever talk to, and hear so many interesting stories.

"You caught me," Balthazar snickered, hands up in surrender, "Where, o where... would I be without you, Glory?"

"No need to thank me."

"O, but I must express my gratitude...!"

"You never know who could be a Fae around these parts, Thazar- and thankin the Fae is a big no-no. That's rule one of livin, kid. Better get used to it."

"Wow!? I'm a kid, now?" Balthazar burst out, shaking his head, "If you're a Fae, then you've been doing a really bad job of it."

"It's a double bluff, Thaz. That's how they get you."

"The Faer levels of trickery that have been happening right under our noses. For shame..."

"Well, who knows?? I could be one! You could be one! Uuhhhh..." She looked around before gesturing to the man on her left in a grandiose manner, "Beathán! Could be one! You don't know."

"Don't even joke about that."

Y/N was constantly moving too quick for her mind to catch up. Tripping over things, making silly little mistakes. Because in the ever unravelling spool of time Y/N was merely an instant, and then she'd be gone. And there was so much she had to do before that point, even if it all amounted to nothing in the end. 

The garden that once belonged to Cedric would decay one day. The clematis would overgrow the house, weighing it down until it collapsed in on itself.  All her family's hard work would fall to the wayside. And the only ones it would ever matter to would be her dad, her brother, herself, Dwyn, and the family Dwyn would create, and then the family who would grow from that and so on and so on, until there was nothing left.

Y/N would leave no legacy behind. She had nothing to her name except the house, and all the little things with  extraordinary importance that came with it. Y/N had no stories to pass down, nor skills to teach, nor heirlooms to possess. In the grand scheme of things, her existence meant nothing, except the sentimental value it could give to Dwyn and the people she had met.

She would never be anything more than Gloria. A girl, living abandoned in the woods. And that deadline was still in the distance. Waiting. And there was much more to do.

"You're right again, Glory. You are so wise... what would I do without your guidance?" Balthazar nodded, solemnly.

"Right? I mean, I litchrally just I saved your life just now."

"Don't push it."

Beathán did the laugh-nose-exhale, trying to mask it with a cough. But the two knew. Of course they knew, as they shared a grin between one another.

"I see you are awfully jovial this morning..." The croaky voice of an old woman sounded out, startling the group to the sight of a woman approaching in a long skirt, bent over a cane with a curled upper lip, "You know, I never thought I would come across someone so ungrateful. In all my sixty years of life, you are the most imprudent worm I have ever come across."

The group stopped in their tracks in the courtyard- the heart of the town, the centre of Summerville. A place where the activity was the brightest, where the sun seemed to shimmer down upon stalls that people had set up to sell their goods.

The old woman was, of course, infamous for this sort of behaviour, looking upon the three with palpable contempt. It was like a noxious odour had been released into the air. Y/N knew this woman well enough. This was hardly the first time she'd come out of nowhere to spoil the good mood just to crap all over herself and whoever was with her.

The woman's face seemed to be set in a permanent, cruel frown. Wherever she walked, others left a clear birth for her, as if they knew that if they got in her way she'd either trample them or yell at them- and no one wanted to deal with her wrath. It seemed as though Y/N was doomed to deal with it regardless, though. Y/N usually employed the method of just standing around quietly and waiting for her to be done taking her anger out. If she just said nothing, then there was nothing for the harridan to comment on.

However, Y/N wasn't sure about letting the old cow humiliate her in front of everyone in this very public place. It was clear the woman wanted to make a spectacle and ruin everyone's day. It was Brad's mother who spoke up first, warningly, among the din.

"Marge."

"Let's not start a fight, Margot," Another lady nearby added.

Nobody in town liked that bitter old sod. Nobody in town liked fighting with her, either. You'd just end up going in circles.

"So I am not allowed to talk anymore?" The harridan sneered, "I am just saying what I think. Is Opia not a free country anymore, or do I have to shut my mouth because it shall hurt someone's feelings?"

She gave a harsh glare Y/N's way, and she couldn't help but be taken aback by the sheer hatred within it. Balthazar stepped forward, but before he could even try to speak, she continued.

"This wretch came into town as if she owned it, carrying on her shoulder a deer- unfairly, unjustly caught-!"

"Why is it unfair and unjust?" Beathán interrupted.

"In the same way that it is unfair and unjust for a man to deprive a mother of her child! This trollop is doing a man's job, and emasculating the whole village with her trite hobbies!"

"Woah, there- is there any need for that-?" Balthazar's brows furrowed.

"And you are blind to it! The way in which she charms the males around her with her devil magic! Think about it- no true man would ever spend their time in the presence of a woman stealing their roles! Sword fighting? Hunting? And even then she's an unmarried harlot living in the woods with a child STOLEN from her mother-!"

Okay. That wouldn't stand. She could handle being talked down to, but to bring up Dwyn and the mother was just not on.

"STOLEN!? What the hell are you ON ABOUT you crazy old twit!?" Y/N defended, as Beathán placed his hands on her shoulder's soothingly (and also as a gesture to warn her to calm down), "She was DROWNING her baby!! Dwyn could've died that day!! Her mother wasn't suitable to care for her!"

Y/N's blood was boiling, her fists clenching and her teeth grinding against each other. She couldn't help it. It was one thing for comments to be made against Y/N, but Dwyn was another story. That girl was sick- she should be with her by now. And if it wasn't for this wench, she'd be there to nurse her back to health! Instead, she had to deal with her vulgarity!

"She does not have a lick of you in her! She Is NOT your blood, she someone else's child- someone else's seed, and she'll never be yours!"

"It doesn't matter if she's not my blood, she's still my family-!!"

"BUT SHE IS NOT. She will never be your REAL family! YOU ARE WITHHOLDING YOUR WOMB- YOU ARE SELFISH!"

Against all odds, those words cut deep into her heart. It wasn't the first time Y/N had heard words like that. Patricia had said something similar, and other elders had insisted similar things, even if they were only in vague comments.

Desperately, Y/N tried to hide the hurt in her expression. She'd already promised herself never to let that bag of bones feel superior to her. She already promised herself to never let Margot have that smug expression having for having bettered her.

"You should know your body belongs only to The Goddess! It is not yours alone to hold and to keep away! You should be using your body for the sake of The Goddesses Will, and yet you REFUSE your sacred duty, and prefer to act LOOSE around other men like some- FLOOSEY!!"

Beathán and Y/N shared an incredulous look. Unfortunately, their opinions were not so widely shared with others, as they looked on at Y/N with uncertainty and whispered to one another not-so-subtly.

"Gloria isn't loose!" A young woman stepped forward, hurrying to Balthazar's side.

A familiar face- Juliette- Balthazar's soon to be fiancée. She had short, very curly russet hair, tied back with a cloth around the top of her head, knotted at the base of her neck in a low bun. Her eyes were almond shaped and a coppery brown colour. She was also shorter than Y/N, which made her incredibly small in comparison to Balthazar, exaggerating his height by a lot. He almost looked like a giant.

If she stood beside the Fae's lanky form, he'd look ginormous, t- oh, what the hell!? Why was she thinking of him at a time like this!?

Y/N didn't know Juliette well, but the few times she'd spoken to her, she had seemed like a fiery and stubborn individual, but she was also kind. Juliette Carver was actually only a year or two younger than Y/N, and she lived and cared for her grandparents after her parents had died- her father specifically from Lockjaw after a wound of his became infected. 

"I think you oughta close those loose lips of yours, Margot," Juliette continued, "I'm sure Gloria is only hesitating because she wants to marry for love. It is possible, innit."

Y/N nearly vomited in her mouth from the sickly sweet look Balthazar and her shared at that.

"Shut it, won't you?!" Margot hissed, "We don't all get to be so picky! Her time is running out- the biological clock ticks ever still as her womb degrades with each passing month! Does she think she is too good for the men in our humble village!? She should just pick a man and SETTLE DOWN!"

"It's not like that...!" Y/N took an instinctive step back, the pressure of eyes weighing on her made her legs shake.

"Oh, yes! How could I possibly ignore the fact you think you can take the man's role for your family of NONE!" She gestured wildly like a preacher, "What business does a woman have intruding on men's tradition-? Killing a doe in the midst of summer?! It is hardly hunting season!"

"She's just learning to defend herself-!" Balthazar insisted.

"She would not need to if she married a man already!" Margot snapped, not liking the fact someone dared cut her off despite her happily doing the same to others, "Does no one find it odd that she has no issue taking care of a child not of her blood? Or that she refuses to start a family!?"

Y/N... didn't like the looks that the onlookers were giving each other, and then her. She didn't like the murmurs, the strange air of suspicion. And she didn't like how that only seemed to bolster Margot's confidence.

She felt put on the spot, as if the whole world were looking down upon her, judging her. And her fight or flight instincts seemed to attest to it, freezing her on the spot, only for her legs to suddenly scream to run. But the innocent don't run. But even if she stayed she'd be looked upon like dirt in the same way. Was there even any winning? Doomed if you do, doomed if you don't.

As if the forest was all around her, encroaching on her space. Brambles seemed to gnaw at her legs in the same way she gnawed on the inside of her cheeks. The trees were leering at her, reaching down and folding in on her small form. So, so small in comparison. And the eyes of everyone seared into her skin. They stared and watched and judged until it was like thorns were shredding at her arms and face, her nerves alight with fear as they dragged at her and stared and they were staring-

"Margot-" An older lady with greying hair tried to calm her, only for Margot to wrench her arm from the woman's gentle grip.

"IT IS BECAUSE SHE IS DOING SOMETHING SINISTER!" The woman shrieked.

Are they right? Was Y/N wrong? Again and again, she was always wrong. What was wrong with her, why was she always wrong? What wrong thing was she doing in her head to make her like this?

"Like what?" Juliette challenged, "Do you think she's concocting some blimming witches brew in her empty womb!?"

"I am just saying what we are all thinking!" She gestured a wrinkly, bony hand towards Y/N, like the gnarled branches of a tree, "Normal women have their own families by now! Even you have a man of your own! Yet she is still clinging to a child that is not hers! It isn't NATURAL!"

"Winnie isn't my blood, b-but she's my family! I love her!"

She was desperate, she scrambled for the explanation, she begged, inwardly to be believed. But who would believe someone who didn't even believe in herself? Because she was wrong, wasn't she? And everyone was right. Like shards of glass nicking her conscience and heart she just felt so out of place, as if the world had shifted in some unseen way, yet she had stayed the same.

Because how could she change?

"She will never be a replacement for a husband and child! You are selfish! The Gift of childbirth was given to us women so we could fulfill our sacred duty! THAT CHILD IS NOT YOURS! SHE IS NOT YOUR FAMILY!"

"Then who IS her family!? Her parents are both dead! I'm all she has!"

The waves of the world were threatening to pull her under. A thrashing sort of fear invaded her mind and insides, crashing into her skin leaving cold and icy gashes behind.

"Confound it! That changes nothing!! It is your duty to bear the children of a man- to raise the seed of someone in holy matrimony- and yet you flounce around with your- HAREM!! And make men ashamed to carry a sword or bow! You belittle men just by existing- you're upsetting the social order!"

"I certainly do not feel ashamed to carry a weapon just because of one woman," Beathán frowned.

"Same," Balthazar chimed.

"YOU ONLY SAY THAT BECAUSE SHE HAS CHARMED YOU WITH HER FEMININE WILES! BUT I KNOW THE TRUTH! What woman does not desire her own family!? What woman would forgo giving birth to her own children in favour of some foreign child of another?! It is not natural! And no man will desire to marry a woman who would prefer to do his work, and care for some other man's fruit!"

"That's enough," An older man stepped in, shaking his head, and the rest of the onlookers seemed to begin piping up.

"It's just uncalled for!"

"Dwyn was a lovely child when she stayed in my home."

"Yes! She deserves to have a sister of her own!"

The critical eyes fell from Y/N in an instant, all landing on that bitter bag of bones. Relief flooded through her, but it was dampened by the growing gossip of those on sidelines- the bystanders who didn't step in, who only looked upon her with skepticism and discomfort. They were content to watch Y/N be put in the hot seat, and happy to make their own conclusions.

"Oh, but Marge has a point... an unmarried woman learning sword-play...?"

"I agree..."

"And isn't it strange that she lives so far out...?"

"Her father died, yet she still lives all the way out there..."

"I heard that the girl is actually her bastard child..."

"I heard she rejected that new boy who came into town with the others..."

"Why wouldn't she get married at the first opportunity?"

"She lived around men, so she only knows how to be masculine..."

"That's just abnormal."

"Her hug with that widower who left was certainly intimate... you don't think she's..."

"But she does her work for the village very diligently..."

"Gloria is doing her best in her own way," Juliette subbed in over the crowd, as if trying to take attention away from the out of control canards.

"That's right. Glory is a faithful member of the community and a Servant to The Goddess," Pastor Vex intercepted the conversation, stepping from the sidelines with those icy blue eyes, "She came to church not long ago."

Y/N didn't like the way he glanced at her after that, as if he were making a point of saying such things so as to encourage her to visit again. It felt oddly pressuring, and Margot's yelling didn't help matters, nor did the stares that pricked at her skin.

"YOU ARE ALL BEING FOOLED! SHE IS A SINNER AND A LIAR AND A THIEF! A THIEF OF A WOMB! WE ALL MUST UPHOLD OUR DUTY, AND YOU ARE NOT ABOVE THAT, GLORIA!"

"Anyway," Balthazar simply cut it short, turning to Y/N and ushering her away, "Let's go."

Juliette linked arms with her and began physically pulling her away. Y/N stumbled after her, but Margot's words followed her over the din.

"YOU ARE HOUSING SOMEONE ELSE'S CHILD! THAT CHILD IS NOT YOURS!! YOU MUST BE A LOYAL SERVANT AND BEAR THE FRUIT OF A MAN! IT IS YOUR DUTY TO CARE FOR A HUSBAND AND CHILD!"

.

.

.

"Oi, chin up."

At the edge of town, Juliette's words cut through Y/N's faraway look. It was probably extremely obvious how those words had cut into her chest. When she looked up, she was met with gazes of pity, and when she looked slightly down, she found Juliette before her, lifting a hand to give her a pat on the shoulder. It was awkward, but well-meaning.

"It doesn't matter whether you kill a blimming deer... it's one deer! Get over yourselves, am I right?!" Juliette continued, irate.

"Margot has a problem of sticking her nose where it doesn't belong," Balthazar concurred, with a gentle bob of the head.

"That's it, innit?!" Juliette pointed a finger at him, enthusiastically, "I heard a Dame was appointed to the Royal Guard just a few years ago. Times are changing! And just as well!"

"That was in Shintaro, hired by the then-Princess," Beathán commented, offhandedly.

However, at the sight of the glares that the couple were giving him, he seemed to realise he'd accidentally spoiled the mood. He looked at Y/N, who was trying hard to hide her growing unease. After all, it was hard to be optimistic about 'changing times' when

"Although... I'm certain there is a plentiful amount of women talented with the sword in Opia... regardless of whether or not you are one of them, Glory."

"If you have nothing nice to say, don't say anything at all!" Juliette smacked his chest, attempting to shove him away from the conversation, but he stood like a brick wall.

"Try not to let her words get to you," Balthazar stepped forward and ruffled her hair with a large hand and a gentle smile.

"She's not worth the effort, she isn't."

"I'll say."

"Forbye-!" Juliette exclaimed, so fast after Balthazar's little add-in that it almost sounded like she was too excited to let him finish, "She's just jealous that she's some wrinkly old prune and you're not. But I would say that the only way you're gonna shut her up is if you get married, so you oughta look for a husband."

"I do believe I'd feel more secure leaving you here if I knew you weren't being harassed over your lack of marriage status, Gloria," Beathán agreed, placing a hand on her shoulder.

Their words made her feel hollow. The fact her worth- or even her safety- was defined by whether or not she had a husband was just... well, it didn't make her feel great. She was content without one, why couldn't others be content with that, too?

"I even heard that that newcomer, Laurence, was showing interest in you!" Juliette grinned, hands on her hips as she looked up at her, "I mean, he's pretty handsome, in'he? He's smart, and you're the only one around here that he's sought out. He even asked Mildred what your name was a few days ago!"

Y/N groaned. At the very least, Balthazar looked sympathetic. Juliette, however, didn't seem to understand the fuss.

"What's with the frowny face?"

"Gayle told me she was stone-walling him on purpose when I came in."

"Whaaaat??" Mortified, Juliette's gaze jumped from her boyfriend back to Y/N, putting the young woman in the hot seat once more, "But why?"

"Just don't like him. He's not even good on the eyes, in my opinion, like."

"You're about the only one who thinks that..." The brunette shook her head at Y/N's meagre explanation.

"I didn't even like his upset face. That's how uninterested I am."

"Bollocks. It's that serious?" Balthazar winced a bit, as if feeling the blow in Laurence's stead.

"That is serious."

"What's this about, then?" Juliette questioned, looking between the two men.

"Glory has... strange interests..." Beathán informed, giving Y/N the side eye.

"She told me she likes it when men cry," Balthazar volunteered, "Not in the sensitive way- she thinks its hot."

In an instant, an unsightly warmth crawled up her neck and face. It wasn't like she went around saying that stuff! It was an impulsive comment she made to him- a one off! It was quiet and she was making conversation and- ohhh was she bad at conversation! Beathán rubbed his face with his hand.

"That makes too much sense..."

"Shurrup!" She glared at the older man.

"Gotta say, Gloria. That's weird. That's very weird."

Juliette thankfully didn't say it maliciously, she was smiling a bit and it was oddly sad? As if she was feeling sorry for Y/N for having been cursed with such a weird interest. Maybe Y/N deserved the pity. She wasn't sure. She definitely felt ashamed of said interest now that it was out in the open...

"Maybe you just haven't gotten to know him yet!" Juliette suggested, sidling up to Y/N's other side, "Why don't you just... give him a chance? You'll probably find him hotter when you know his personality! It could be fun!"

"It's his personality that made him un-hot. I thought he was good-lookin at first," Y/N protested, although it was hardly anything angry.

"Well..." Juliette trailed off, grimacing a bit, "That's not good, that is. But that's just his first impression! He could be better than you thought if you talked to him some more..."

"Gayle said it's because he's leaving," Balthazar explained.

"Bloody hell- how much did Gayle tell you??" Y/N was exasperated, gesturing widely, "Is that how everyone found out he flirted with me?"

Balthazar fixed her with a look.

"What do you think?"

"She is called Gayle Gossip for a reason..." Juliette gave her a reassuring pat on the back, "It's not all bad, though! Because of that, Laurence knows your name now! Isn't that good?"

"Noooooooo..." Y/N complained, "I purposefully didn't tell him- on purpose...!"

"You're screwed."

"Yeah, well, thanks for the useful comment, Bee-a-than," Beathán showed her the finger, prompting a scoff from the young woman, "Oh, yeah. Real mature, mate!"

"Oi, look," Juliette called her attention back to her, "I'm not saying Marge's right, because she isn't. But you do have to admit the way you look to others."

Y/N felt herself deflate. Because Juliette wasn't wrong, and partly, neither was Margot. As much as she got offended by Margot's comments towards herself and her sister, she didn't have much excuse for herself. Not wanting to wasn't an excuse. Everyone did it even if they didn't want to. That was just a part of life, because life was a series of compromises and disappointments. It was nothing like the fairytales her dad read to her as a child.

She was no exception. Just because she wasn't being forced into it by a dad or brother didn't mean she was suddenly exempt from the status quo. She should've been putting more effort into finding a husband.

She should've just settled for Laurence and gave him a chance. But the image of that girl crying as he laughed over her hunched form made her reluctant. And the slimy way he put the moves on her made her skin crawl. She didn't like him. But in a world like this, that was hardly enough to say 'no'. Because she was a woman, and it was her sacred duty to find a husband and give birth to as many children as the Goddess would allow.

She sighed, her head lowering.

"Why don't you like him?" Balthazar's tone was gentle as he tried to pull information from the girl, "You said to Malik that even if we convinced him to stay you wouldn't. Why not?"

Y/N opened her mouth to say it- to say his attitude was all wrong, that his jokes weren't funny... but she faltered. Because... others would say the same about her, wouldn't they? Was that even a good excuse?

"Do I need a reason?"

"I just want to understand," Balthazar replied, his face open and welcoming.

She tilted her head to the side, staring at the ground as if it had punched her in the face and called her a horrible person unprompted.

"Well... he..." She closed her eyes, feeling silly- but even still the flood gates opened up and it all came out at once, "His pick-up lines were vulgar. It felt like he didn't really like me because he liked me, but that he felt... I dunno, lust? And he saw me as a challenge because other girls were rejectin him. And- even when I made myself clear and kept tryin to get him to stop, he kept goin on, y'know? And the way he turned down those other girls also rubbed me the wrong way. And when I started gettin all this in my head, I started seein him as less attractive, as if his outsides reflected his insides, y'know? Does that even make sense...?"

A heavy breath left her. She felt incoherent, and her gut turned uncomfortably.

"Did you tell him to stop?" Balthazar asked, well-meaning.

"Like... out loud...? No... but I mean, it was kinda obvious, right?"

"Maybe not..." Juliette trailed off, thoughtful, "Most guys don't pick up on hints. If you don't tell them out loud, they won't gerrit."

Y/N's face scrunched up at that. She thought she was making herself clear.

"He kept interruptin me, too..."

"Men do that all the time," Juliette's face held a frown and her eyes were distant, as if she were recalling a particularly sour experience, "That's just a few flaws, innit? All people are made up of flaws. To have a good relationship, you need to accept that."

"What if I can't accept that?"

"You'll learn to," Her tone was reassuring, despite the way Y/N's chest felt like some massive boulder had slammed right into it.

"Is that not easy for you to say, given you and your boyfriend have an amicable relationship?" Beathán argued, brows raised in disillusionment.

"Juliette has her flaws and so do I. We work together to overcome them."

Juliette narrowed her eyes at him, almost playful.

"Are you saying I'm not perfectly delightful or something!?"

"With love."

"Son of a bastard!" She accused, but quickly turned back to the situation at hand when Balthazar looked back to Y/N, tenderly.

"No relationship is perfect. You could grow to love him. Just give it time."

"Yup! Laurence could be good for you!" Juliette encouraged, "And if not then... there's always other fish in the sea, in'there? But if you don't try then you'll defo regret it later on."

"Just think about it, Glory."

It was clear that they really did have her best interests at heart. Gayle was like this, too. And Dareth, and Malik, and Chamille. They all cared for her and wanted what was best for her.

Maybe this was what was best for her. Maybe she just wasn't seeing things the right way- the way they saw things. Her mind was clouded with bias. She just wasn't being open-minded enough. And she was wrong for that.

The revelation didn't hurt any less.

Y/N turned to Beathán and found he was already looking at her. His gaze was something hard and stubborn, like deep roots growing beneath the ground. She couldn't even guess what he was thinking, his arms folded and his stare piercing. She wished she could find comfort in it, but she only felt like she understood him and herself even less. It made her feel small and vulnerable.

"We should just get married, Beathán."

It was an attempt to defuse the tension. But it was also a last ditch effort, too. She could keep him here, he could be part of their family. They didn't have to love each other in that way, or even have kids. She wouldn't like to have kids with him.

But if they married, people would stop looking at her weird. They'd get what they want, and she could lie and call herself barren, and have what she wanted, too. Because she wanted Beathán to stay with her, and she wanted Beathán to want to stay with her, too. She'd still be scrutinised, and it wouldn't solve all her problems, but she could deal with that if she just had him at her side. Everything was better when Beathán was with her.

But he smiled weakly, in the way that people do when refusing a child.

"Ha," The laugh was humourless and fake, as if he really didn't believe her offer to be truth (but deep down, that enigmatic look on his face made her feel like he did know), "I'm afraid not, Glory. I could not spend my whole life like that; I am far too old for you."

She smiled, sadly, but nodded all the same.

That's right. She couldn't tie him down. He was a merchant, a traveller. He had ambition that she didn't and so much more life experience. He didn't fit into their patchwork family. He was not her father, and she was not his daughter. And they were not family.

"Well, that's that, then."

"You never told me Gloria was a player, Zar," Juliette snickered up at him, "From one man to the next. I'm impressed, I am!"

"Don't be. She proposes to every person she crosses paths with, men and women. Nobody is special to her," Beathán joked.

"I like that, haha! If you keep at it, someone's bound to accept."

"No," Balthazar snorted, "She's been rejected by everyone to date."

"Yeah, yeah," She rubbed her sweaty palms on her button-up coat, "Anyways, I'll think about it- gettin on with Laurence, I mean. I dunno if it'll work out, but I'll do my best."

"That's all you can do," Balthazar affirmed, "Good on you for trying. It makes me proud to see you put your stubbornness aside for once..."

She rolled her eyes.

"I'm older than you, mate. What's with the dad-talk?"

"If he's the dad, I guess that makes me the mom," Juliette teased, much to Balthazar's embarrassment, "Go get 'em, tiger! Rawr!"

She held her hands up like claws and gave a bright grin.

"I'll die from cringe if you do that again," Y/N deadpanned.

"Same..." Despite saying that, Balthazar looked very flustered and endeared.

Blegh. Romance. It really did turn people into other people. Balthazar, usually kind and calm, was insanely down bad. Forget Malik and his golden retriever attitude towards Ellowyn. Balthazar became strangely softhearted around his lover.

Well, it was almost endearing, so Y/N couldn't be too grossed out by it.

"I should get goin, then. Dwyn's still sick at home. She's better than she was yesterday but I'm still worried, like."

"Yup, we've gotta go, too," Juliette took Balthazar's hand and began leading him away, "It was nice talking to you, Glory! Take care!"

"See you around, Glory!" Balthazar added, following after his girlfriend.

Y/N chuckled a bit and turned to leave, only for Beathán to take her side before she could take the first step onto the path to her home. He was like a monolith of security, and his baritone voice eased her worries.

"Gloria," She startled and turned to him, "I know you well by now. You'll be stewing on Margot's words for some time. Just remember that she does not know you. Her judgment is meaningless. You need not take words like that to heart- she doesn't know what she's talking about."

She smiled, softly. But her heart squeezed. One of these days, he'd be leaving. And she'd still be here, without him. Who would comfort her about such things then? Who would be there for her?

Balthazar was getting on with his own life, ready to make that final leap with Juliette. Gayle had a big mouth, so even though she loved that woman, she couldn't confide in her and trust her to keep it between them. Ingrid was gone, Malik was immature and Dareth gave terrible advice. The one she'd always turned to for any of her curiosities or concerns was Beathán. But he would not stay for her, and she could never make him do that when it wasn't what he wanted.

It would be over soon.

"Thanks, Beathán. I really appreciate you sayin that."

"It was nothing. Be safe," He gave her a short nod, and watched as she wandered into the woods.

"Will do."

She didn't see the way he looked after her, concerned. Or the way he reluctantly turned and went away.

But it was hard to abide by his advice or let Margot's words not affect her when they were words that had been repeated countless amounts of times. Have a child, have a husband, make a life in the normal way. These were all big decisions to her, and yet they seemed so easy for everyone else. She didn't understand- what exactly made her so different?

She never had an interest in men. Not really. They were all immature- kind of rude, as well. Completely undesirable. And she couldn't find it in her to feel any other way. Even Laurence, the newcomer around her age who had been- in Dareth's words- throwing himself at her, was completely uninteresting to her.

And yet, she had to make do. Because if she didn't, she wouldn't be accepted by others. So she was going to have to make an effort to tolerate him.

She could be friends with men. Balthazar, who had actively defended her, was an example of this. It wasn't that she found people unattractive either, she just... didn't love those people. Even the men she was close with acted similarly in her presence. Balthazar had complimented her on a few occasions when he noticed something was different. He seemed similar to her, able to acknowledge that someone was beautiful. The only difference was he had his heart set on Juliette. He did love someone.

Y/N didn't, and she had no plans of ever doing so. And that was wrong. She was wrong for that. But she didn't know how to change. She didn't know how to want the same things other people did. To want to die, to want to fall in love... Y/N felt no inclination to either one. Although for the former, it was less indifference and more fear.

Still, she felt a few tears slip down her cheeks. Gayle had warned her before, about dying alone. Patricia had scowled at her and said very similar things to what Margot had said today, and Y/N was left overflowing with feelings of inadequacy.

Now, she had to try and bridge the gap between her and Laurence, because that was what was expected of her. Her reasons for avoiding that weren't good enough, because they were standing in the way of her duty as a woman.

It just wasn't fair.

.
.
.

"Hey!" It was a familiar voice, jolting Y/N from her thoughts.

In an instant, she turned to look at the source, up in a tree- despite already knowing who it was. And when their eyes met, she barely got a chance to see the expression on his face change before she was ducking her head into her sleeves, annoyance overpowering the heavy powdering of sadness that had settled on her heart like freshly fallen snow.

'Oh great. This day just keeps getting better... eugh, screw me.'

She wanted to beat her head into a wall or something. How was this fair? This couldn't be considered fair in the slightest! And at the worst possible time, too...

"Gloria??" The sound of the name she gave him made her heart jump and she nearly did as well, turning to face him, "Are you crying?"

When she saw him again, he was still on that same branch overhanging a small portion of the path from a large, towering tree. His long-sleeved shirt kept his stomach exposed and hung around his shoulders, decorated in a green floral pattern, and there was a strange bendy, leafy laurel adorning the curls of his hair. His face held sincere concern.

She had prayed to the Goddess and asked her to remove him from her life not long ago. And the Goddess didn't answer her prayers. Maybe because she was busy and simply hadn't gotten to Y/N's request just yet. She was the owner, creator and ruler of this world, after all, she was surely preoccupied with all that... 

Or maybe because Y/N wasn't deserving of her attention- too lowly and simple and rebellious. Maybe Pastor Vex was right, and the Goddess was very mad at her, and Y/N hadn't repented enough.

Maybe getting married and having a child was the way in which she was expected to repent. Maybe 'withholding her womb' had been the source of the Goddesses ire all along. And maybe Y/N deserved that ire. Because she was wrong.

"Uuhhhh... not anymore?" She tried, because he'd honestly shocked her out of the crying part of her foul mood.

"What happened?!"

He didn't wait for her to speak before he had thrown himself off the branch, his wings fanning out as a strange, bright green glow emitted from them- almost sparkling in the shade of the woodland. Within seconds, he'd crossed the distance as if carried by the very wind, and he aimed to land on the pathway just a few paces away from her.

The pain was sharp and burning. As if he'd leapt right into shattered glass, the shards digging into his skin, shredding it apart until bloody flesh oozed from within. He felt it spike and lash at his skin, sinking deeply. It was like red hot coals blistering and ripping into his feet, turning them into bloody ribbons. A searing pain he'd only felt a few times in his life. Now his sensitive feet were screaming with what felt like one hundred bumblebee stings.

"ACK!! OW!" The Fae launched himself back into the air, wings fluttering up a sharp breeze, however when he landed again, he jumped once more.

His feet were thoroughly scalded by the pavement, the venomous ache of iron scratching against the pressure in his skin. Before he knew it, Gloria was in front of him, catching his thighs in the air. And in an effort to keep himself off the ground, he instinctively wrapped his legs around her torso, loosely.

The sensation sent shivers up Y/N's spine. Her breath caught in her throat, and suddenly she was trapped against him. Her hands gripped at his pants, holding him up. And despite his tall frame, he was extremely light. Perhaps it was Faer magic? His easy jumping around as if carried by the wind suddenly made much more sense.

What didn't make sense was the odd cloying at her heart, the sparks lighting up her waist, as his thighs squeezed lightly- experimentally- as if testing her structural integrity. Despite the fact she was standing rigid, upright, she felt like she was coming apart on the inside. Goop filled in where organs were supposed to be. The cold grip of some damning, grim certainty was immediately dampened by a smouldering heat.

"What was that-?!" He glared apprehensively at the stone walkway, teeth gritting as he steadied his wobbling form with hands on her shoulders.

With some effort, she managed to school her conflicted expression, and she inhaled deeply to hide the shakiness to her voice when she spoke again.

"Iron-..."

"IRON!? In the floor??" He looked positively affronted, "Who designs a path that way??"

Yeah... all doubt in her mind had been cleared by this point.

Y/N's heart was hammering loudly in her chest. She didn't have the capacity- the capability to explain it right now. She was out of control. Her blood was pounding in her ears, rushing like a turbulent river threatening to pull her under the murky depths. And her mind was reeling. Her skin was fragile, sensitive beneath his warmth and her mind was a fog- a strange mishmash of emotions swirling around each other, confused, scared, and something else. Something delicate.

She spoke short, trying to quell the torrential waves of her out of control mind. It was running, running off the spool- away from her. And she had to bring it back in, or else- or else- she wasn't sure what else. But something was happening. It was a bad happening.

"My dad and brother."

"Seriously?" He tutted under his breath, "Why haven't I seen them? I always watch this path."

She exhaled, the previous maelstrom of her mind somewhat ebbing to give way to mild incredulity. She didn't feel so creeped out anymore by it- it seemed natural to him, even if he didn't understand human social norms. At the very least, he wasn't doing it on purpose, as far as she could tell.

"Okay, first off... weird."

"It's not weird!"

"It's weird," She deadpanned, "Second off, they... both left. My brother went off to start his own family- and the iron in the path is to ward off the Fair Folk."

Over time, it seemed as though this Fae's presence had become something... normal. She wasn't so terrified of him as she had been when they first met. He was still quite scary, no doubt, but in moments such as these, she felt little fear when being casual with him. Perhaps she should've been more weary. Maybe she should've kept her guard up.

But it was so exhausting, coming home in an anxious haze, struggling to fall asleep, with the sensation of impending doom creeping up on her. Sue her for wanting to have some peace. This man was clearly not going to leave her life any time soon, even if she asked politely. He'd set down some roots and decided to stay. It would take a while to tear him out of the ground. All she could do was roll with the punches and hope he got bored of her eventually.

Fae were creatures(??)... people(?) with long lasting lives. Incredible beings of incredible abilities and incredible potential. With unrivalled beauty, and limitless power (well... iron was certainly a limit, but barring that- limitless), they could pretty much accomplish... anything they wanted in life. They could travel and see wondrous sights that humans could only dream of. They could create structures that didn't have to obey even the most basic laws of nature, or inspire the very plants of the earth, or create bonds that would last forever, or claim ownership over any treasure they so desired. They could unlock wealth beyond the imagination, or forge their own.

They could kill anyone. Take anything. Rule over everything.

There was really no human powerful enough to prevent it. This man- this Faer Man, could have anything in the world- in both of their worlds. Perhaps he'd get over his curiosity over the first human he'd met and seek out greener pastures, and leave her alone.

That would be for the best.

He'd already shown he had little capacity for hurting her. Even when she did things that could've been misconstrued as disrespecting the forest from whence he came- littering, killing an animal... walking into it at all (what with her being a human and not belonging there). So, at the very least, a bit of banter wouldn't kill her.

Despite her thinking this way, apprehension still crawled up her spine when he frowned.

'OOOOHHHH, WAIT. Should I be telling the stalker that I don't have anyone to protect me where I live?'

The answer was no. That was decidedly something she shouldn't have been doing. But, well, too late to take it back now! HAHAHAHA, GUESS SHE'D JUST DIE THEN.

How was it that every time she gave optional information that she didn't need to give, she still chose to do so. And every single piece of that information that she wasn't obligated to give somehow seemed to make herself look more and more like a very kidnap-able target?! SHE WAS JUST DIGGING HER GRAVE AT THIS POINT! Was she that stupid?! Don't answer that.

"That's insane. How much work would you have to put in to do all of this?"

"My dad was incredibly dedicated."

And he was. She had memories of him and her brother working hard at the pavement- scraping away grass roots and shoving stone in it's place. She had memories of her father buying heaps of iron slag, working hard throughout the summer to convert it properly for use in the craggy path.

"Sure. But it didn't work," He huffed, childishly, "It's just annoying."

"It works for the most part... for the Fey that aren't weird like you."

"I'm not weird!" He insisted, exasperated.

She sighed, recalling her sister's younger days spent running around barefoot, the same way this Fae man did- but much more innocent, and a little stubborn. She liked to feel the grass between her toes, to jump among the flowers in the garden, feel the daisies' petals against her ankles. And, she received many injuries as a result of these escapades. Stubbed toes on tree roots, loose rocks in the path and so on and so forth.

-

"TOE PRISONS!! I NEVER WILL DO IT!" She'd shriek, laughing as she dodged away from Y/N's pouncing arms.

"I think you'll find you will-!"

"NOOO! THEY SQUISH ME-!"

"NO THEY DON'T! WE CHECKED- WE LITERALLY CHECKED, YOU BLOODY TROGLODYTE! GET HERE-!"

"NEVER!"

-

"Is walkin around without shoes really worth the risk of steppin on somethin dangerous, mate?"

He startled at the end there, looking at her with wide eyes and slightly flushed cheeks. His crossed legs around her middle sort of unfurled, forcing her to right him and hold him up entirely on her own strength. It wasn't that difficult since he was so light.

Unfortunately, her eyes had fixated on his face. That tasteful blush staining his rosy skin with a bright pink that reached all the way up to the elven tips of his ears. It was almost infuriating how beautiful he was- like, how pretty does ONE GUY have to be, anyway?? It was like how poisonous flowers were always the most colourful- like the foxgloves twining in her garden. Tresses of sandy blonde hair caught the light with a rainbow-like sheen, as if it were made of some ethereal material that scattered the light in different hues.

His eyes were just as clear and crystalline as they were each time she'd met him. Exquisite, like new sprouts in spring. Filled with vitality and strength. She could almost feel the magic in them flowing out and encompassing the whole area in an unseen shimmer. A force that threatened to crawl into her skin and dig the True Name out of her mouth by force.

Under her breath, she found herself mumbling something as she tried to pry her mind away from the way it picked and prodded at the image before her.

"I used to hafta tell Winnie to wear shoes all the time, 'n all..."

He was impossibly beautiful, but it left an impression somewhere in her head. It was a similar sensation to when she got stuck in a loop of trying to remember that one song that went a little like this and failing to recall the name over and over again. Even though she just wanted to forget, it was like his image was folding in and then falling open again. Parchment unable to hold a certain shape as it came apart.

She could see him, but there was something beyond him. Inside him. And she couldn't make it out- her mind couldn't really understand what it was looking at. Like there was a door that she couldn't open, but could just barely make out shadows in the barest crack where the wood missed the floor. Unable to see anything specific, but knowing something was there and desperately trying to unravel it to understand.

Y/N made the executive decision to dart her eyes away, desperate for a distraction. He obviously wasn't trying to make her go crazy with latching onto how incomprehensible he was. He was something Other that a human like her could never understand. But that didn't change the fact that it was in her nature to try, even against her will. It was better to force her mind to abandon such thoughts, for the sake of her own sanity.

For a moment, he remained there, suspended in some kind of trance- which was weird since she was supposed to be the one under a trance, right?

Awkwardly, she paid attention to surrounding woodland. It was quite pretty in the sunlight, you know. Grass and tall trees, thick trees intermingled. The thicket of the main body of the badlands was probably infinitely more captivating, but she still found herself admiring a slope where groups of light bluish purple ground-ivy bundled together. She could smell the mint faintly from this distance. It seemed to sneak up on her.

Until his legs locked firmly in place. It snatched her mind away. Suddenly, her every sense was light, tuned to the situation at hand. The pressure on her waist suddenly much stronger than it had been even when he first landed there.

The breath was stolen from her lungs- not because it was a harsh or unforgiving grip- but because- because- her entire body was suddenly engulfed in a strange, tingling warmth. Like a deluge drowning her every nerve, it sunk into her waist, her stomach, her chest, and everything below. Goosebumps rippled over her arms, and as if a feather was being dragged over the back of her neck and scalp, she felt them drag over her head, too.

It was like getting the chills from something terrible that had happened, but the good version. And Y/N wasn't sure why it was good. It was terrifying. Y/N was hardly able to breathe, hardly able to think, as if her head had been broken up and filled with cotton. Even the tips of her fingers felt subdued with a far away fuzziness.

"Who's Winn-? Actually, forget that-" He shuffled in her hands and bent forward so that they were face to face, "Who did this to you??"

"I-?? W- uhhh... what?" She barely managed to say it, her mind somehow wandering away from the life-threatening situation.

His hands came against her cheeks- her cheeks that burned with embarrassment. A thin sheen of sweat had already settled on her sweltering back. And at the touch, all of her limbs seemed to lock up at once, like she was made from stone. A tension came into every muscle and bone. And she felt so vulnerable under his narrowed gaze.

"Who made you cry, Gloria? Are you okay?"

The pleasant sensation- warm, gentle against her waist- was extremely difficult to think around. As if her throat had closed around the words, she spoke them as if she were choking on them.

"Does it m-matter??"

This arrangement- the way he squeezed her sides reassuringly, the way he stared into her and held her face in his hands- as if it were something precious- as if she were precious. Something to be treasured, something to be cared for. With a concerned look filled with simmering anger and immeasurable fondness- it was all a lot. Intimate, even.

She'd never experienced anything like this before. Sure, when her family was still around, she'd held hands with her father, clutching at his fingers. He'd carried her places- on his shoulders, on his back, in his arms, hugging her close. Cedric had ran his fingers through her hair, had slept beside her, held her, cuddled her when she needed comfort or warmth.

And a long time ago, her sister and her had been thick as thieves- almost like twins. One was not complete without the other. They did everything together during those years, from what she could remember in the fogginess of her memory. They shared a bed, they shared clothes, they played games, they talked about everything and anything- secrets she couldn't even remember, stories she couldn't recall the details of. The sort of innocent stuff that could only come from a child's imagination.

But that was all family.

"Of course, it matters," His tone was stern, his face was angry, a glare aimed at the side, passed her.

Not on her. Never on her. Never angry at her, but rather, for her.

When did she start telling the difference between the two?

"I- haha- I mean, why-? I mean... it's just... tears..." Ah, she wasn't making any sense.

Her feet pulsed and tingled. Her sister's face foggy and yet never clearer. These memories always had a way of bringing her down to her knees. For a moment, she was not sure she'd be able to stand up if Blondie's weight was released from her. She hid behind a face with clarity- an expression sunlit and warm. Something she could see even in her dreams. She washed out the bitterness with memories of Dwyn, and the affection she had held with her.

With Dwyn, she took care of her, kissed her face, tucked her into bed, read her stories, pinched her cheeks, did her hair, cooked her food. They ate together, they spent most moments together. Dwyn tackled her into the grass on warm summer days, Y/N swathed the girl in her body to conserve warmth on winter nights.

Save for the emotional hugs at Ingrid's send off, it had been a long, long time since someone other than Dwyn had held her. About seven years, give or take. And now this Fae had waltzed into her life and taken that place. His legs around her waist emanated a feeling she was sure she'd never experienced before. 

It was hot- not like a soft warmth anymore, but a raging inferno, threatening to swallow her whole. It enveloped every place in her body, taking up residence in a corner of her mind that she was sure she'd be unable to scrape out. It was suffocating, it was intoxicating, it was sweet, it was...- it was-

'STOP! NO, IT'S NOT- YOU CAN'T BE THINKING, FOR REAL-!?? PULL YOURSELF TOGETHER, Y/N! YOU IDIOT!! YOU- YOU IDIOT!'

It was sultry.

She wanted to slap herself for even having such a horrible thought. Was she really falling apart over some guy wrapping his legs around her? A gesture from someone she barely even knew-?

Oh, no, she knew everything she needed to know about him! He was Faer! The man actively trying to drag her into the woods, never to be seen again! The first time they met, he'd tried to use his name magic on her! She couldn't be getting weird about this! She had to compose herself.

'This is crazy- I'm being crazy! You're being crazy, Y/N!! Snap out of it! Remember who you're dealing with! This isn't just anyone!!'

"Just tears?" His voice cracked, "No way. You're the most interesting human in this realm."

Was he actually concerned for her? Was that actually what was happening? When she dared to look at his expression, she was almost bewildered by the fact that... this did seem to be the case. This person who her mind had registered as some mystical, terrifying thing, was worried for her.

His brows were scrunched in the middle, slightly upturned as if he was distraught for her. And he was touching her as if he cared. Looking at her like she was more than what she was. She was just some human. They only met by chance- why was he so invested in whether or not she was crying? She wasn't anything of value to him- to anyone.

"B-But... I thought you found me annoyin, though?"

She liked it, though. She liked that sad look on his face. 

Okay, she needed to stop with this, this was getting out of hand!!

"In all the best ways."

Ahh, but the feeling of his body heat reached all across her trembling form. Her legs quivered- almost overstimulated. Her heart pulsed and when his breath fanned against her face, brushing a stray strand of hair away, she was fairly certain it skipped a beat. His words rang through her, strangely touching, oddly kind. Now she was panicking- what was that she'd said about NOT letting herself think of him as just anyone!? 

She was fairly certain she was getting ATTACHED now! NOT GOOD. Was she really that starved for connection that she'd latch onto sweet lies told by a FAE. The guy that could MURDER HER- that thought about murdering her, that tried to steal her away the INSTANT she gave him a name!?!!

"I- uhh... that's, umm... I- I appreciate the sentiment but- it's not even- like, it's just my fault. I'm the one who put myself in this situation-"

"I don't like it. I don't care whether or not it's justified, I just don't want to see you cry."

"U-Uuhh... okay- m-my bad...?"

"Not 'your bad'. Tell me who did this to you. I don't like people messing with what's Mine."

'UH?' Her mind stalled.

Then everything stopped.

In that moment, she felt like there was a thousand kilos weighing on top of her skull. Her blood turned to ice, and her fingers, once gripping into the loose material of his dark grey pants, went slack.

Something cold splashed down her spine, taking her out of her thoughts, out of her trance. Those kind eyes, showing wrath and concern for her, suddenly seemed so much more ominous. A green colour that should never exist in someone's gaze. An impossibly beautiful face and hair that refracted the very light shining on it, fluid and gorgeous and magic.

Because that's what he was. He wasn't just someone. He was Faer. A being of power. A being who wanted to steal her. And she'd been friendly with him.

Slowly, she reached a hand up and grasped one of his on her cheek. And it was almost painful the way he allowed his hand plucked away, removing the skin-to-skin contact. Because that's what it was, wasn't it? He could easily overpower her any moment. Even if he was as light as a bird, he was stronger than any human. And if he so wanted, he could force his hand against her skin and force her face apart in his fingers. Anything he wanted, he could have. He could twist her head off right then and there, or drag her into the woods.

And Dwyn... Dwyn would be left behind.

Y/N couldn't allow that. She needed to get distance. How had she been so careless? To allow this creature- this Fae- to lull her into a false sense of security?

"B-But... but I'm not yours," She reminded him, pushing her fear down, her heart slamming against her chest, as if trying to run away.

The muscles in her legs seemed almost ready to burst into a sprint. And her fingers around his hand were sweaty and slick with all the cornered terror of a prey animal. In comparison, he looked positively unaffected.

Yet she was so terrified. Because what if his ire was redirected onto her. He wanted her. She wasn't sure what for. Slavery? Just to say he had a human, like some kind of exotic pet or foreign treasure? But she didn't want to be owned. She wasn't going to be owned. Never. And she had to be clear- to him, and to herself.

Because she'd let her guard down. And if she'd slipped up then, there might've been no going back. She had to be cautious. For Dwyn and for herself. So she needed to ensure this would never happen again. And maybe, if she was clear enough, he'd just give up. He'd leave her alone. She prayed he'd leave her alone, begged the Goddess.

But the Goddess wouldn't answer, would she? It was a whisper in the back of her mind, as something stepped on her hope like an insect and crushed it beneath it's heel. Because Y/N was not deserving of the Goddess' mercy. She had angered her, closed off her womb and abandoned her responsibility- her obligation of being a mother.

There had been too many close calls already. Everything about these rendezvous screamed danger. She couldn't afford to be in danger.

But how could she convince a Goddess of great power to want her to not be in danger?

You can't, and the voice in the back of her mind sounded suspiciously like the Pastor, She will decide if you are worthy. All you can do is show your devotion.

And the only way to do that is...

"I-I... I haven't eaten your food..." Her voice shook around the words, as she forced her thoughts away and tried to focus only on the Now, "I haven't given you thanks, or made a request, or apologised... and you don't know my true name."

A grin spread on his face, hardly the thing of nightmares that he'd given her before. It was gentle, with closed lips and burning eyes that stabbed into her.

"But you will be mine." 

The way he spoke was so innocent and certain. Like it was a foregone conclusion- an unchangeable fact as true as the sun rising in the east or the sky being blue. And he didn't sound sinister as he said it, either. It wasn't a threat or a warning, but a promise of something grand and thoughtful- something genuinely kind and to be wanted. A gift. 

As if he wasn't claiming ownership over her existence like she were an inanimate object- as if he didn't have plans to turn her into a mindless slave and take her away from her home so she would never see the light of day ever again- or her sister, or the village and the people she cared about within it.

And the scariest part was, against all odds, he seemed to believe it.

She almost believed it, too.

He looked at her fondly, expressed his desire to steal her, and hold her hostage in a foreign realm as if it were such a simple and yet obvious result. As if he really believed that this was a good thing- that it wouldn't do her any harm, and that he was right to do it.

Like being lured in by a Siren's song, she breathed in his words- and for just a moment, succumbed to the comfort embedded in them. She almost believed that his intentions were pure, that even messing up a little would surely be okay. Because he was kind, and he cared about her- so if she messed up her words, he wouldn't hurt her, and if she accidentally thanked him or apologised, he wouldn't take advantage of it.

But then she thought of Dwyn's face, ill, lying prone at home, pale and lonely... and that consideration soured. Dread sunk into her chest.

How? How had she almost let her guard down? It wasn't as if she had any plans to give herself over, even when she thought about 'being his', but all the same. That had made her vulnerable. This strange, uncomfortable fuzziness that had settled over her mind like a blanket- it had tricked her. He had almost tricked her!

But why couldn't she be rid of it? As if it were nailed to her very body, she could hardly bring herself to refuse, shaking her head vigorously as if to rid herself of her lowered inhibitions.

"Do I not get a say in this, like...?" She stepped back as if it would somehow pull them apart.

He remained steadfast, latched to her waist.

A sound bubbled in the base of her throat at the feeling of his hold tightening, and she swallowed it down in favour of marching over to the grass, ready to deposit him to safety. Instead, his grip only strengthened. And this time, a strangled gasp left her throat- something sounding pained, guttural, and echoing from the back of her throat.

"You'll say no, then."

"Yeah, obviously," She tried to glare, but it probably didn't come across like she'd hoped.

"Then no," He pouted.

And it was-

Shutting her eyes tight, she tried to block out the world- or this sensation from taking root at the sight of his gorgeous eyes gleaming back at her. No matter how desperately she tried to claw at the shards of her resolve and put them all back together, she would find another one missing and the pieces wouldn't fit.

She was brimming with a feeling she couldn't place. But she knew, at the very least, that it was wrong to feel this way about him. Her heart throbbed in her chest, in her ears, in her stomach and lower and lower still, all the way down to her toes.

Her insides were tangling, her body overheating, overwhelmed, and being dragged uselessly by this feeling. Her heart did back flips and cartwheels and various acrobatic routines, thrumming under the skin of her neck and shoulder blades.

"Are you okay?" He asked firmly, looking over her- through her- as if searching for the hurt gathered inside so that he could reach in and ease it himself.

It was nice- kind of. To feel that concern directed to her without any need for rationalising the words that had hurt her in the first place. It was a sentiment that Juliette, Balthazar, and her own mentor hadn't offered her. They were all keen on offering a solution that she didn't like. But this Fae man who didn't even know her that well had only worried about whether she was okay, even saying that he didn't care for whether it was her fault or not.

When was the last time she'd been afford that sort of kindness?

Paired with the sensual touch that ignited her nerves, her words were stolen from her. Her lungs wouldn't take in air. Her mind was full of clouds- they clogged up all sense of reason. Her skin was alight. By the Goddess- it wasn't even that much of a personal touch, either. She was being pathetic. She was being insane.

But nobody had ever held her so-... so... like that. Could she be blamed for her mind turning to mush? She released his hand as if it had burned her and returned it to supporting his other leg, as of the fabric of his soft pants would ground her as she scrunched it under her palms. It didn't.

When she opened her mouth, no words came out. She tried again, barely managing to force any sound at all.

"I- I'm good- I think??" But her mind went blank and she didn't think she was actually thinking.

"Then can you tell me who did this to you?" He didn't even seem to notice what he was doing to her (and it was arguably worse than what Margot did to her!!).

A frustration roiled in her gut. Why couldn't she just FORM TOGETHER A PROPER THOUGHT?? This was insane! It was vexing! Through gritted teeth, she inhaled, too caught up in her own mind to notice the way his eyes widened at her words- striking deep down into his very chest.

When she opened her eyes again, she felt the bone deep desire to close them and hide away- as if closing her eyes would hide anything at all. Just a moment of peace from that prying gaze. She felt so certain that he already knew everything going through her mind- those impure thoughts that made her avert her gaze, or the trickling in her core that threatened to overflow.

A heavy breath shuddered through her, rattling her body. When she sucked in another breath, she scrambled for any sense of logic.

"I'm not gunna tell you that. What'll you even do to them if I tell you, like?"

The way his pupils thinned like a hunting cat was enough explanation. Why did he even care? She didn't understand- she didn't get it- didn't get any of this.

It felt good to have someone concerned for her in this way.

'No. No it doesn't feel good,' She scolded herself, 'It's dangerous. This man is DANGEROUS. He's Fae.'

That's right. He was Fae. She couldn't feel comfortable, she couldn't afford to allow herself to enjoy the attention, or the feeling of him wrapped around he- STOP. JUST- JUST STOP IT!!

What was making him angry enough to cause harm to those who wronged her but not be willing to extend the same harm onto her? For now, he was docile. For now, he cared. Because she was 'interesting'. But she didn't even know why he thought she was interesting, or how to stay interesting to him- how to keep herself in his good graces enough for him to not go wild and throw her away... or worse.

What would he do to her when she became just another human? When she was no longer a source of entertainment? When she wasn't interesting anymore, what would he do to her?

"Yeah- I'm definitely not tellin you, mate. It's..." She swallowed, averting her gaze, trying to pretend that the blistering warmth in her skin didn't exist, "... not important, anyways."

"I'll decide what's important."

"No, I will," At his words, she straightened her back- she couldn't budge... she wouldn't budge, "I- I'm fine, and if there's a problem, I can solve it myself, that's the thing about that, mate."

But for some reason, she felt as though she were coming undone right that second. As if her soul had been laid bare to him- like he could see all the scars right before his eyes and the way Margot's words stung her heart

He might be able to take everything from her, but to whatever little choice she had, she'd grip on and never let go. Even small decisions like this were meant to be hers. And she wouldn't let him use his power to control her in even the little ways.

"Tha-" She clenched her fists around a 'thank you', "I appreciate that you care- I don't like the reason why- I- but, thaa- that's... k-kind of you, all the same."

Her eyes fell to the exposed area of his stomach. The flexing of his muscles, the soft flesh in pink tones that complimented another cropped shirt of his. And for a moment- a blissful, impulsive, intrigued moment filled with flustered curiosity- she wondered what it would feel like under her hands.

She'd never touched another person's open stomach before (save for Dwyn, whom she tickled and used to help dress)- she rarely even touched her own stomach, she hardly even looked at it. But placing her hands on another person's exposed waist felt sinful- felt wrong, and odd, and different, and-

She wanted to.

Gingerly, she lifted her trembling hands from his legs and reached towards hi—

He jumped off her in that same moment before she could even try to close the distance, her fingers stiff. She snapped them behind her back, clasping them fast and taking a few steps away, scolding herself, humiliated for even trying, disgusted for even thinking of such things.

'You're such a horrible person! It's impure! It's WRONG. But you ignored that. You knew it was wrong and you IGNORED that!! IDIOT!' She spat at herself, as she forced down the bitter disappointment.

"Okay, sure," His voice was melodious like a balm to her wounded pride- an assurance that he definitely didn't know all the horrid and disturbing thoughts crossing her sullied mind, "I won't pry."

Her head was still spinning, disoriented. But she inhaled in an effort to keep herself calm, tears forgotten.

All of this happened because of her. It was her fault. She allowed him into her life the moment she stepped into the woods that fateful day. Had she ignored him, she would've been living in peace. Realistically, this was all the consequences of her own actions. She was such a fool. Such an idiot. She was ridiculous. She'd brought this upon herself because she was stupid and she disobeyed the rules.

What would her dad think of her? He'd always been forgiving, but she wouldn't blame him if he were angry at this.

"Right-..." She stammered, relieved, confused, frightened- of herself, of her mind and her mind's awful capabilities, "Tha- I mean... I appreciate that. And so-... and about your feet... are they okay?"

She was concerned, but she'd been caught up in her own problems- too self-centred to even think about his. Cursing herself for being so selfish, she at least tried to make up for it... even if it was hardly as satisfactory as a full apology. But she did want to make sure he was okay before he dispersed, as he tended to do.

"Huh?" He glanced down at them he looks at them then back at her, "Er-... it's just mild iron burns. They'll heal."

"Ahh... right. I'm glad. Good for you, like..."

His grin was wolfish, sharp teeth on display: endearing as it was terrifying.

Or maybe cat-like would be a more apt description. She was nothing but a mouse cowering under the waiting jaws of a cat. She had tricks up her sleeve that she could use to escape. But they were nothing more than tricks. In the end, he was still waiting to pounce in the shadows- to catch her off guard. Stalking her from a distance, and the only thing she could use to her advantage was her quick-wittedness.

"You're not going to apologise for not warning be about the path?"

Another one of his sneaky (but not at all sneaky, since it was very obvious what he was doing) ways of trying to get Y/N to slip up.

"My bad," She smiled behind her seething upset beneath the surface (listen, this day had been a lot of emotional turmoil and right now, she just wanted to go home and look after Dwyn and wallow), "But I did help you just now. Aren't you gunna thank me?"

His cunning, smug smile fell with the widening of his eyes and that familiar jerk of the brows, and she blinked up at him, innocently. 

Then, the smile he gave was far less self-satisfied. It was warm, amused, and somehow sincere as he gave a bright laugh.

"You got me! I wasn't expecting that. You're full of surprises, aren't you, Gloria?"

"Uhhh... I dunno anythin about that," As she tilted her head, he giggled at her evident confusion.

"It's sort of concerning that you aren't lying about that," He wasn't upset, though (if his laughter was anything to go off) which was good because it meant she probably didn't have to worry about getting her skull crushed.

Actually, his laugh was very beautiful. This must have been the closest thing she could get to hearing a Siren's call. Airy, soft, almost melodious. It resonated inside her head like music. She found her chest feeling light despite the apprehension plucking at her tendons like the strings of a lute.

"Sor- uhh..." Why was she apologising again? She didn't know- it was just instinctual, "My bad."

"Don't worry about it. I don't hate it- it's one of the things that make you interesting."

"I wish it didn't."

He laughed. It was like the sound of rain hitting a wind chime. It was like the taste of sugar- rich, rare, valuable, sweet. She'd only tried it once before.

"You're not an indulgent human," Came his disappointed reply- but his lilted with the gentle smile pulling on his freckle-flecked cheeks.

"No I am not," Her tone was triumphant as she began to leave, "I need to get home, anyways."

"So soon?" He asked, wide, irises catching the sun in hues of gold and green.

"Yeah, I have things to do. I can't really stay any longer. It was nice seein you, though."

It wasn't a lie, weirdly enough. To some extent, she did enjoy his visit. She didn't want to get used to him- she didn't want to start seeing him as a person. Because the moment she let go of that primordial caution that came with setting one's eyes on larger than life things such as Fae or death or gods, was the moment she could lose herself.

She couldn't afford to do that. She had to keep her guard up. But he had a strange way of softening the impact of his non-human traits. She found herself seeing him as someone she could be friends with under other circumstances.

That wasn't good. She needed to get as much distance between them as possible and put a stop to these thoughts.

"If you gave me your name, then you could see me every day."

He didn't say it as if he thought it was an enticing offer to her. He spoke jokingly, as if the fact he knew she was going to refuse was some kind of inside joke between them. And somehow, she managed to find it a little funny, as well.

"I think I'll pass, mate," She smirked a bit, but turned to leave in quite a hurry, that fear still simmering beneath the surface, "I'll think about the offer, though."

She shot him a wave before shoving her hands into her coat's pockets. His laughter like bells seemed to thrum through the forest. As if the earth beneath the trees had a heart that beat in time with his devious giggles.

Well, of course he was laughing. She'd told a lie.

It was a few moments later that she actually realised this and looked back, her chest stammering at the thought of him reaching out for her neck and snapping her head right off in that split second. 

He was still standing there on the side of the path, watching her, leaned against a tree with his arms folded. The grin on his face was haunting, full of pointy teeth, and his eyes had that predatory stare she'd seen time and time again. It was like he was having fun with the chase. It sent something cold in the back of her neck.

Y/N turned again and began running- one foot pushing too far down, making her skid across the ground hands first. They scraped, skin pulling, but no blood was shed. Only her knees ached and her foot burned burned. A scream threatened to spill from her throat as she clambered to her senses, tripping over herself. She held it back- bit it back like she bit down on the insides of her cheeks until she could taste metal.

She wanted to go home.

So she kept running. Even when the pain throbbed like the wound was new- like an injury had been torn open at the seams and she was stumbling like a wounded animal- she ran. She was used to this pain. This pain that lingered in something that wasn't there. In her face, in her feet. And the tears that stung her eyes flowed freely while she was caged in the throes of that room, that cold door like an iron blockade, and the swelling, the putrid stench.

Back in that room again. Back there. Back with her cold hand in Y/N's. Alone, begging to be saved, praying to a Goddess that showed no mercy. A freezing chill that could only be washed away by hellfire. Her father surely knew of the sort.

And him. The Fae's malevolent smile snapped at her heels, and stalked the back of her mind like a shadow. Her heart pounded in her ears, and her legs ached and her lungs burned in the chilly air. And when she looked back he was gone, and the birds were chirping and the trees were loud with wildlife. But she couldn't shake the intangible sensation that he was still there, just beyond the treeline, watching her. Even though, realistically, he wasn't.

He wasn't there. And yet he never left her mind, and the distress never stopped clouding her every step like a thick haze of anxiety.

His memory had chased her here. His memory had... chased away the other memories. The bad ones. The door, the face, the flies, the smell, the loneliness and aching. It was frightening, as she sat, shaking, shuddering, convulsing on the stairs of the porch. She felt hot blood run down her leg from where she'd tripped and slammed it into the corner of one of the stairs. The pot of white geraniums had tipped, and soil dusted over the wood.

With a quivering hand, she stood it back up. Her hands were shaking so badly that it reminded her of wind chimes jittering in a storm. Her foot was throbbing. She swept what soil she could into her hands, some still slipping between her jolting fingers. She tossed it back into the pot.

It was a lot of effort, but she pulled herself up using the banister, hopping on her right foot before testing her left and wincing. A pained, gutteral cry whined from behind her lips. She held it down and hopped up the stairs.

He was horrifying. She wanted to hate him.

The terror he'd given her had scared the past from the haze of her mind, though. It wasn't something worth thanking him over, but it was a comfort nonetheless. And, somehow, she was grateful for it.

The lesser of two evils, she supposed, before hiding within the walls of her sanctuary- her home.

.
.
.

"Ay- W-Winnie, what the hell are you doin outta bed!?"

After catching her breath, Y/N found herself chucking her coat on the ground and rushing over to a seemingly lively Dwyn, her knees slamming into the floor with blossoming pain in her foot.

Absolute crisis. But she managed to stagger up to Dwyn, who was happily spooning honey out of the jar and directly into her mouth before taking a sip of milk. The golden haired girl (still looking pale and with droopy eyes) glanced up at her older sister as the jar was gingerly taken from her grabby hands.

"You always give me honeyed milk but... I dunno how to make it so... I just ate them together."

"Oh, sweetie," Y/N let out a bit of a laugh, though it was weak, and her hands were still shaking bad enough that one could've mistaken her for just having escaped a blizzard, "That's for when you've got a cough or somethin. Peppermint tea is better for a fever and upset stomach."

"Oh..."

"Oh," Y/N echoed, chuckling a bit and shaking her head.

She quickly shoved the cork into the jar before putting it away. Sausage poisoning could still be caused by things like honey if they weren't stored well. With that, she began leading Dwyn out of the room, ignoring the spiking pain in her foot.

"C'mon, love bug, let's get you back to bed, alright? I'll make you some of that later on. But for now you need rest. Do you feel sick any, like?"

"No..." She hummed, leaning her head against Y/N's upper arm as they walked towards the stairs, "I, uumm, actually feel better than what I did this morning..."

Well, she was up and about, wasn't she?

"It's good you got somethin in your stomach. That was prolly part of the tummy upset, like."

With some effort, Dwyn was once more settled in her bed. Y/N checked her forehead and cheeks with the back of her hands and found the fever still alive and kicking while Dwyn complained about the dizziness.

"Uuughghhhhhh..." Dwyn warbled, flopping back down onto her bed in dismay.

Y/N smiled lightly, placing down the girl's glass of water on the bedside table after Dwyn had finished taking a sip. Dwyn's condition had plateaued, but she was still having some major headaches. Y/N's main goal was to keep her well-hydrated.

"You're alright," Y/N offered, warmly, "You'll be better before you know it."

"I hate being sick..." She grumbled.

"Yeah, I know. I hate it, too- bein sick, I mean. The good thing is that your fever is breakin, so you'll be better in no time."

"Mmmnnngggg..." The young girl groaned, and Y/N laughed.

No matter what anyone said, they were family. They were family. Not by blood, but by all other means. They were meant to be together. Carefully, Y/N swept some of her golden hair from the girl's face, smiling softly.

"I love you, Dwyn."

Yeah. They loved each other. That love wasn't any less valid simply because they weren't blood. Surely the Goddess must understand the lengths at which Y/N would care for the girl if she gifted Dwyn onto her. She must've known that Y/N would make Dwyn her purpose, rather than any other sacred mission she'd been given.

Perhaps it was one of those stories in scriptures, in which the Goddess sent a distraction to her servants to see them overcome it. But she could hardly just abandon a child simply to start her own family.

"Love you, too," Came Dwyn's mumbled response, "... mom."

Y/N paused for a moment. She... wasn't sure what her expression was, but she'd frozen up, hand frozen amidst the girl's fringe. 

Before she slowly continued stroking her hair, without saying a word. Her heart was like a woodpecker against bark, and she didn't know what to make of the emotions whirling inside of her. They were so much, like a twister tearing through her head. Disorientating, confusing. But full of care and of love, regardless.

Y/N was Dwyn's caregiver. That had been the case ever since the girl was around four or five years old. The term they both went by most commonly was 'sister', but there had been a few times when Dwyn had called her 'mom' when she was young, until some person from the village had told Dwyn about her 'actual mother' after she'd called out to Y/N with such a term, and then the amount of times had dwindled significantly.

It wasn't that Y/N had told Dwyn to stop. That was just her choice. And Y/N... wasn't sure how to go about talking about it, asking if Dwyn was uncomfortable with it or not.

Having children of her own wasn't something she was all that interested in. But she might've liked being an aunt if Cedric had stuck around. And if she lived in a big city as someone of the middle class, she might've adopted. Or even if she was working class still in this scenario, she might've become a matron at an orphanage. At least then, she wouldn't be expected to do much more than what she was already doing.

Of course, these ideas were very much not possible and it they weren't exactly an 'aspirations' of hers, either. These were just hypotheticals based on passing thoughts that didn't hold much weight. She'd never dreamed of adopting, she'd never desired to work anywhere, because she wasn't an ambitious person.

If she could choose a career path, she had no idea what she'd do. She had no real inclinations or goals towards any sort of grand plan. Maybe she had, once, but they'd been stomped down by... well, everything- the expectation was always that Y/N would grow into a young woman who would then go into being a wife and shortly thereafter, a mother.

For her, there was no such thing as wanting outside of what was set for her for the longest time. She didn't even know if she had any particular interests or hobbies. She couldn't think of anything she enjoyed off the top of her head. Reading passed the time, baking was for the sake of a living. But was there anything she liked for herself?

Y/N didn't know if there was anything she wanted to do. She'd never had the opportunity to dream. And now, she didn't really care to try. Everything she needed was here, and there was nothing motivating her to leave- nothing worth it to leave for.

She loved Dwyn, would genuinely dedicate every second of her life and every breath she took to the girl. She'd die for her, but she'd also live for her. It was an infinitely paradoxical sort of love that reached to the depths of her heart and the tips of her hair. She loved Dwyn with every fibre of her being, and she'd love Dwyn still if she hurt a million people. 

No strings attached.

It didn't matter what label they put on their relationship. If Dwyn saw her as a sister, or a mother, or anything in between, Y/N would accept it wholeheartedly. Dwyn was her ward, her everything, her child- her whole world.

"Oh, love bug..." Y/N sighed, with a small smile on her face as she watched the slow rise and fall of Dwyn's chest, assuring her that the girl was, indeed, alive.

That night, she didn't leave Dwyn's side. The fear still spiked up her spine at the thought of being spirited away, and there was conflict brewing in the back of her mind, remembering the warmth of his legs clutching onto her sides, and his form bending over her, with concern in his expression.

She sighed, tossing off her shoes into the corner of the room, and hiking up her dress. With one of Dwyn's used wet rags, she cleaned the cut on her leg. It stopped bleeding after a few minutes of holding it down. Her foot, contrary to what she thought, had not been swollen. It was just the memory lingering behind.

She focused on the buzzing in her skin with the cut on her leg. Sluggishly, she was leaned her face into her folded arms resting upon Dwyn's mattress. The smell of clean linens was soothing.

There was no reconciling this like a normal person, because Y/N wasn't normal. Getting married, having children, abiding by the Goddess' will... it all somehow felt like a chore. Most women settled into those roles because that's the way things were. Maybe it was because she hadn't been raised by her mother or primed for being married off or prepared for the duties of a woman, but she didn't know how to be like that.

Change was a natural part of life though. Just as the seasons changed, Y/N surely would, too. And perhaps she'd grow to accept that. Perhaps it was just a matter of time before she fell into the role she was destined for from the moment of her creation.

Today had honestly been so draining. Talking to people, getting screamed at and whispered about, ect, ect. The thoughts she shouldn't be having, and the feeling of impending doom on the horizon.

'Just let it be tomorrow already...'

In the morning, she'd gingerly press a hand to the tender flesh of her stomach, 

and realise how lonely she was.

------------------------------
a.n

here we go the art (lore beneath the art if you're interested)

"Slowly, she reached a hand up and grasped one of his on her cheek. And it was almost painful the way he allowed his hand plucked away, removing the skin-to-skin contact."

he detects 0 rizz because mc in this book is a virgin, she never loses anything bro she's a winner.

all side characters are based on minor/background/side characters from the show. Obviously I took some creative liberties with their appearances. Aside from Ingrid, Malik, Margot and Laurence- who are all side characters created based only on background appearances in the show with no lines or anything- most all side characters can be found in the wiki. You're not required to look them up, it's just a neat bit of info.

Balthazar and Juliette are two of Darkley's (nameless) teachers! Chamille is the Elemental Master of Form. Dwyn appears in the movie, and is only on screen for one scene where her balloon gets popped by a narwhal soldier. Kyouka is the Hostess from the Sushimi's Sushi Restaurant in Prime Empire.

also, there is no mind manipulation in this chapter (even the part where his humanness falls apart isn't really manipulation, it's just Y/N seeing magic that she can't understand). Y/N is struggling so hard because she's attracted to him and touch starved. he's not using magic, he's just hot 😭

chapter title is from Molasses by The Hush Sound