Clocks are impatient. They turn night to day, pressure the feet to hurry. Time infects the blood, sickens the mind, worries the hands until they tap, tap, tap, tap on wooden tables while the world waits. Waits for what? It doesn't matter. Soldiers marching to the tick-tock of an angry fist. Perilous seconds separating a soul from life and death. Alexander hated clocks.
A little boy sat cross-legged in front of a towering monstrosity, his head swinging back and forth with the sway of each second counted by the grandfather clock rooted in the halls of his father's establishment. He was meant to be seated somewhere out of the way, where, if he were needed for some strange reason, he could easily be located. Of course, though, finding the company of the house maids and kitchen ladies quite unbearable, Alexander had scuttled along, taking post in front of the endearing object that chopped away time second by alluring second. He never understood how it worked - how such simple gears and creaky metal could carry on and cry out every minute lost. Alex found it redundant to peer at a circular face. It unnerved him to find his reflection in the glass covering the cogs. The contraption was ugly - made for his father personally. Supposedly, there were no other clocks such as this one in the world.
Alexander found this hard to believe.
His father was always persistent in his tellings - there was not a thing Alexander could create that would fair better than his mastering of something long practiced. How could a man make something so unique, if it had not yet been done? Alexander placed his hands on the glass, shoving forward to test its sturdiness. The clock didn't teeter. Leaning closer, Alexander pressed his forehead to the cool glass and peered through the murky wood, searching for the ticking gears inside. As he pulled his face away, he caught the swiftly approaching company of his father and the men he'd hailed from Arlua. Eyes widening, Alex leapt to his feet and scurried behind the cover of the clock just as they drew close, peeking from around the bend of the clock.
"She requests that we meet her unarmed," one of them was saying as his father marched angrily down the red-carpeted halls. "I am no fool, but perhaps it would be better if we obliged, sir? Maybe she is serious - a treaty could draw her to our side. They will not disobey their leader."
James skidded to an abrupt halt, swiveling around to face the man speaking. He seemed rather startled that Lord LeRoy had whirled with such intensity, his hands drawing to his chest, crunching a pad of parchment he'd been scratching notes on. Alex sank further under cover, his little fingers holding tight to the pristine wood. Brown eyes danced over strangers, before they settled on his father.
"I do not care what it is Saiorse Addinell wants," James told his men quite fiercely, his fist curved together as it fell to rest over his heart. "She is a part of the darkness endangering this kingdom and we must be rid of her."
"Will her followers not pursue us?" The older man questioned, wrinkles creasing his eyes while he questioned his captain. James met his gaze without any uncertainty, shaking his head once. Alex drew his lip between his teeth, wondering who Saiorse was and why she was part of the darkness. Why would someone favor night over day? You couldn't play when it was dark. Alex felt sorry for her.
"They will not know who took her," James explained in a hushed voice. "I will not allow my children to walk the same earth as satanic beasts." He looked to a smaller man, pudgy and perhaps far older than the rest of them. He too, seemed rather conflicted. James pointed his finger at his chest. "I want every lavender stem in a mile radius brought to my home. Crush it and make a liquid. Forge an arrow with it." He turned away from them, leaving them to watch as he took his leave. He spoke over his shoulder. "If Saiorse is gone, so is their confidence. You cannot have a world without order. Kill Saiorse Addinell - you kill them."
Alexander had lost interest in the conversation when his father had mentioned lavender - but through the haze of early morning and the rhythmic drop of - what was that, water? - he wondered if his dream was no less than a harmless vision. Finger by finger, Alex curled his hands together, testing them as the world came back with a gentle touch - or, at first anyway. As if he were hit in the face with a burning torch, Alexander was suddenly awake, eyes blinking and chest swelling with his gasp.
And his head was on fire.
A moan that would have silenced the loudest of birdsong left him. He clasped his face, his fingers bouncing away the moment he brushed his bruised skin. He didn't dare find a reflective surface, he could feel that his face had swollen terribly. For a moment Alex thought he may have fallen asleep in a meadow somewhere, enchanted by a lass and wine - but memories soon pressed to either side of his skull and he found himself wrapping his arms over his chest.
Bloody face, snarls that belonged to wolves not a woman - dead bodies. Bodies slain there by the woman keeping his company. Alex ventured to sit upright, holding the side of his face in a palm that rested over his knee.
What was a man to do when faced with such a dire circumstance. What Saiorse had done to the soldiers would befall his family. There would no justice for anyone - for himself, for the people Saiorse felt had been mistreated. Alexander could not take Saiorse to his home. Even if it meant his death when she discovered the truth.
Alex drew to his feet, teetering toward the sound of frothing water. Saiorse always seemed to know where the nearby streams were - perhaps she could hear them even miles away. Stepping carefully over rock and brush, Alex picked his way to the music of the water, until he caught sight of a figure emerged in a babbling brook.
Her clothes, wet and lying in the sun to dry, rested on a rock farther up the shore. The shimmering stream did well to light her porcelain skin, the stoop of her shoulder blades hidden by the drape of chocolate hair clinging to her skin. Alex found himself confused; he should not find his kidnapper so... elegant.
And yet.
Saiorse dunked beneath the water for a fleeting second, then shot upward with a rather loud cry, folding her arms over herself with a shudder. Alex smirked to himself - so vampires could still get chilly. Hands running through her hair, Saiorse turned, ready to head for the shore in search of a clean gown (she had more in her satchel), but stopped, hands frozen where they clasped her hair as she caught sight of Alexander on the bank.
Neither of them said a word as they stared, Alex's face growing a shade of red as a mischievous smirk crept over Saiorse's lips. He could not tear his eyes away no matter how hard he tried as she wadded forward until she stood on the bank, arms at her sides and her hair doing very little to cover her chest.
"What's the matter, Lord LeRoy?" Saiorse teased. "Have you never seen a naked woman before?" She swept her hands outward, tilting her head with a growing, smug leer. "Of course not all of them are as ravishing as I am, I will give you leeway there."
Alex struggled to focus on her eyes. "I've a special lady that puts you to shame," he told her, turning his back as Saiorse reached her satchel. Saiorse wrinkled one side of her face, sliding through a gown with practiced precision. "Her name was Oinks and we had her for breakfast on a holiday morning - I cannot remember which."
Saiorse's jaw fell open with an offended huff. "Are you calling me an ugly pig?"
Alex's victorious smirk was lost to the trees he faced. "I am not calling you a beautiful woman."
A hand startled him, his eyes popping wide and his gasp burning his aching ribs. Saiorse turned him to face her, the light in her eyes perhaps a wee too playful for his liking - although, the flecks of blue he could see rather surprised him. They weren't just grey, it seemed. He wondered if her eyes had once been solely blue. Saiorse leaned close. Alex didn't draw away, only narrowed his eyes.
"You should be," Saiorse told him sternly. "That is no way to speak to a lady. Do you talk to your mother with that disrespect?" Saiorse left him there, drifting back to her gowns. She prodded them, heaving a sigh as she found them still far too damp to collect. Saiorse heaved a long sigh. Back against the boulder, she slid until she sat on the ground, folding her limber arms over her knees. Against his better judgement, Alexander walked to join her, sinking to sit at her side.
They watched the rolling river, somehow finding peace within the sun-kissed waters.
"Explain to me what it is exactly my father has done," Alexander said, cracking their composure. Saiorse shut her eyes, hanging her head. She pressed her toes together.
"Your father leads a group of men that call themselves the Circle," Saiorse explained. "They've vowed to rid the world of people such as myself - like the wizard. James and I were meant to find common ground. All we found was hatred. I agreed to meet them inside a cavern where one of his men shot me with an arrow," she notioned to the ledge of the raging scar peeking free of her gown. "I am not the only one he's hurt."
Alex's lips pursed. His father was not a violent man - he'd never known him to strike someone down that hadn't well deserved such a fate. Wriggling in place, Alex ran his tongue over his mouth. Saiorse turned her head to watch him, knowing well that he had a contradictory idea. Alex shook his head, clasping his knees with an iron grasp.
"I have never heard anything about a Circle," he told Saiorse. "He included me in almost everything he did. I was to take his place in the House. He would have told me of something so important to him."
Saiorse sighed heavily. "Even the kindest of men - our fathers, brothers - are capable of secrecy and lies, Alex."
Alex rolled his head to look at Saiorse. "Was it him? My father that shot you?"
Saiorse met his gaze. "No. One of his soldiers did. He knew I would not be paying close enough attention to them to notice the bow."
"What did you even need a treaty for?" Alex pressed, leaning close enough that their shoulders touched. Saiorse held his eyes. She didn't like the desperation she saw in them - he was searching too hard for innocence in the jaws of a beast.
"Those who know of supernatural beings don't exactly accept them, unless they are one of them to begin with. James, along with several others out of his control did all they could to rid the city of any and all he suspected to be of other kind. Your father suggested war - to reveal to the mundane there was more to life than what they could see."
"So if they tried to murder you, why did they not take advantage and begin war without you standing in their way?"
Saiorse looked away, focusing on the ripples made by a flopping fish near the bank. "They thought if they killed me - as they believe I am the leader of all supernatural kind - our world would cease to work together. We would collapse in ourselves and thus, destroy each other. That way no human life was at risk."
"So what is it you are then, if you're not the queen?" Alexander asked.
Saiorse laughed lightly. "I am far from a queen, dear Alexander. I am only the voice of thousands. I speak for all. I do not make decisions that govern everyone - only those that are like me."
"So what else is there, aside from, uh, vampires?"
A broad grin reached her face. "That is the question, isn't it?"
"What did you do with those men, Saiorse?" Alexander asked her more quietly.
She got to her feet then, taking his hand in hers. He hadn't the urge to pull it away, rather, let her lead him to the bank of the river.She took a few steps into the water, stopping just before her gown could grace the surface. She shook her head, taking her hand away from his to place both of her palms over his chest, giving him a wide grin, before shoving him so harshly he fell backward into the stream with a chaotic splash. Saiorse only looked on smugly while he floundered to catch himself, glaring at her with a flaring chest and heaving breath.
"You will join them if you do not bathe," Saiorse told him. She turned away, leaving him there to do whatever he saw fit - though, rest assured, she would have carried him right back to the river had he not taken off his trousers. Saiorse watched with raised brows when his pants soard past her head.
Taking a moment to herself, Saiorse stretched over the grass, shutting her eyes to allow the warmth of the sun seep into her skin. It tingled horridly without the protection of her cloak - long ago a friend of hers had bewitched the fabric to protect her from the harmful rays, so she could walk among the light at freewill. Without it, Saiorse would burn quicker than any human, until the burns would seep right through to the bone, as if she had caught aflame. She would not spontaneously combust or roast - simply wither and dry until she was nothing but a skeleton. Still, the sun had its luxury and she missed its warmth and the freedom to lie beneath it void of fear.
She told herself she would only lie there for no more than it took Alexander to wash, but as she floated on a sleepy mindset, she was startled by the sudden lack of warmth. Frowning, Saiorse opened her eyes to see first, two - very hairy - legs, then, as her eyes traveled upward, an even more so naked Alexander LeRoy. He stood over her, hands over his chest, eyes narrowed, as if she'd done something wrong. Elbows digging into the dirt, Saiorse started to sit up, then, as she glanced down with a twisting lip, thought better of it rather quickly.
"Can I help you?" Saiorse droned.
"What did you do with those men?" Alex pressed once more, his seriousness overtaking the previous curiosity. Saiorse sighed, scooting away quite a good distance before she dared to get to her feet.
"It does not matter," Saiorse stated stiffly. "Viles escaped, thanks to your valliant efforts. None the less, I will find your father before he manages to spread the word of my return; or, whomever he tell might find his proclamation ridiculous. Either way I will not be stopped."
"Commander Viles is not dead?" Alex asked. Saiorse heard the tone of relief in his voice. It angered her. She turned her back to him, snagging a pair of pants she'd left to dry for Alex - she'd brought them along with her own clothing - and tossed them at his face. They were still quite damp, but she didn't care. "What about the bodies? Did you bury them like you did the wizard? They deserved that much."
Saiorse stopped dead, her blood running cold. They deserved to be buried? She turned to face Alex with her growing rage very clearly visible over her face. Alex only looked on with an unwavering scowl, his hands wrapped tight around the pants. Saiorse decided not to dignify him with a response, rather snorted disgustedly, and stomped onward through a thicket of bushes. Disgruntled, Alex shoved one leg through the pants aggressively, hopping along until he shoved the other through, racing after Saiorse without a shirt and the strings of the trousers untied. They barely clung to his hips.
"You expect me to answer all of your questions!" Alex howled after her. "But, oh, if I ask something you do not care for you walk away. How childish can you be!"
Saiorse continued walking, waving her hand in a dismissive flick. "It is not my fault you speew your words as a side effect of fear."
"Fear?" Alex scoffed, racing after her. He teetered behind her as she walked, his hands flailing as he fought to decide whether or not it would be a smart idea to clasp her shoulders. "If you think I am terrified of you, then you have the very wrong ide-"
Saiorse spun about quicker than Alex could have counted on, his jaw clicking shut, his eyes widening as his hand reached outward in an instinctive smack. He caught her on the side of the cheek, gasping long before the sound of his hand colliding with her face reached his ears. He drew his hands to his chest, clenching his teeth as his lips drew back. Saiorse only stared with wide, disbelieving eyes. She didn't move to touch her cheek, or him - to his surprise. Five seconds passed and he was still breathing; it must have been a record.
"You hit me," Saiorse almost whispered.
"I did not mean to!" Alex defended, flailing his hands until they fell to rest on her shoulders. "I do not hit women - I just got- I felt-"
"Scared?" Saiorse said, drawing her word out as a plaintive smirk crossed her face, her eyes glinting with her victory. Alex's face fell immediately. She would have been a better witch than a vampire. Growling under his breath, Alex shoved her away as she chuckled, leaving him standing there while she gathered the rest of her things, slipping the ivory cloak over her shoulders. It would dry as they carried on. As she reached her horse, she fanned her fingers over his muzzle, untying the reins from Elia's ropes.
"You still did not tell me what you did," Alex demanded.
Saiorse sighed, one foot in the stirrup. "You saw everything I did," Saiorse told him. Turning her face to fix him with a glare. "Now will you please put on a tunic so we may leave?"
Alex didn't believe her. He pressed his hands to his chest. "Does this bother you?"
Saiorse did not look at him. "Actually, yes, yes it does."
"Then why on earth would I even think to cover it?" He reached for the strings of his pants, tying them with fierce fingers. Saiorse's eyes dropped to his fingers, then roamed back to his face, before she climbed into her saddle, tilting her head back impatiently. Alex took his time with righting his outfit, sauntering over to Elia as he ruffled his hair with his hands. Saiorse curled her lip. Water dribbled on her face while he shook his head. Smiling sarcastically, Alex hauled himself onto his companion, dreading the long ride that would surely leave his ribs mortified.
"Onward, then," Alex advised. "We still have to go south before we can cross the river safely," he told her, as if she wasn't aware. "The sooner I can take a real bath the better."
"Ohhhh," Saiorse mocked as if she pitied him. "Poor Alex without his tubby wubby. Want Saiorse to go get a ducky and stuff it for you?"
Alex found her teasing less than amusing. Narrowing his eyes he kicked Elia into a trot, smacking his heel into her calf as he passed her. Saiorse only smirked as he trotted ahead of her, Richard keeping a lazy pace compared to Elia's deliberate trot.
"Honestly," Alex grunted. "A woman of your stature surely does not live in a shack."
"I do not," Saiorse confirmed. "My home is far from here - in a city called Darthara. It is as big as your father's mansion I would assume. The shack I took you to is simply one of my more convenient of shelters. It is closer to the villages, where as Darthara is well past Ravendale."
"Ah," Alex chimed. "So you are a sophisticated woman. Surprise, surprise."
Saiorse chuckled darkly, her words split with her laughter. He never quite liked it when she chortled. It always made him chill. "Oh, Alexander," she sighed. "I have years of etiquette beyond any you could probably count to."
Alex's jaw tightened. "I am sure you could understand why it is I find your appearance to be that of a peasant," he rolled. "That cloak of yours is most likely one of thousands. Tell me, do markets assume you a thief as you walk them?"
Saiorse and Richard were suddenly beside Elia, her face pressed closer than Alex would've liked. He narrowed her eyes as she grinned sheepishly, her voice low and gravely. He would be a liar if he said it didn't make him squirm.
"The only thing this cloak has helped me steal is whispers of my name coming from men far more handsome than yourself."
Alex sought for words that could silence her, but he hadn't the chance to conjure any - she'd already trotted Richard well past him. Urging him into a gallop, Saiorse shot onward, leaving Alexander to suffer under her cloud of dust. Sighing, Alex shook his head and wondered precisely why he didn't just turn around and dive through the trees in search of someone - anyone - to help regain his freedom. Though, as his hand traveled to touch his throbbing neck, he recalled precisely why it was not such a pleasant idea to disobey the fiery woman. Elia picked up her own pace, trailing after Richard with a beckoning bray that appaloosa answered with a nicker of his own. Alex poked the side of her neck. There would be no friendship between them, unacceptable! Elia was far too beautiful of a mare to fall for the traps of such a basic stallion.
Alex was devoting his thoughts to wondering if Elia and Richard could have conversations just as Saiorse and he - Alex hoped she'd riddled his self-confidence useless. So, as Saiorse forced Richard to come to a skidding halt, drawing her sword, Alex was rather taken aback as Elia squealed with frustration, her hooves scuttling along loose rock and rain puckered soil. Alex copied Saiorse's actions, taking a dagger from his saddle, gifted to him by Saiorse 'only for emergencies'. He looked for the source of Saiorse's peril, but found nothing.
At least until a furred blur shot from the trees, leapt onto Saiorse, and knocked her out of the saddle so fiercely she screamed.