Embers and Ashes

Bonus #5

Melona

   “Ow”, I cringe as I once again land on my tail bone.

   “Get up Cybele”, Devlon half chuckles. The Bastard was having fun with this.

   “You’re sadistic”, I huff at him from the ground.

   “Only a little”, he nods as while offering me his hand.

   I glare up at him, but take his outstretched hand anyways. The thick rippling muscles of his bare arms barely even straining as he hoists me up. As if I where nothing but a feather pillow.

   And I would be a devious liar if I did not admit that the war lord was indeed very impressive in physical form. Though I am trying my best not to be distracted by it.

    “So mind explaining to me why you’ve woken me at the crack of dawn to fly me out to the middle of no where?”, I ask as I dust myself off and look up at him. With his eyes so bright and his thick black hair pulled back by a strip of leather. He looked so much more alive out here.

   “I have business to attend to this morning in a few hours. After that my schedule is full, and I promised you at least an hour”, he explains.

   “And here I thought it was because you didn’t want to be seen with me”, I smile.

   “That too”, he agrees.

   “You’re in a much better mood then most days”, I offer as topic of the next conversation as I we once again take our stances.

   “I’m going to be getting my way this evening”, a grin so feral on his lips I would almost call it delight.

   “Oh?”, I ask taking the first jab at him. “With what?”

   It only takes him moments to overcome, and have me pinned to his chest with his arm bracing my neck so the back of my head lay between his rib cages. He holds me there as I gasp and struggle even if his grip wasn’t hard enough to even block my breathing.

   “There’s a storm forming in the mountains”, he hums and his chest thrums as if thunder was nestled beside his heart. “Here, lift your neck just a bit.”

   His finger tucking up under my chin to turn it to the sky ever so slightly and my nose opens to the world.

   “There. Here you can smell it from here. That cold wisp of pine and juniper. That damp bit there. That is what it always smells like before a rain up here”, he hums. “. . . Which for me means that I get to have an evening full of mud wrestling and then a quiet night alone.”

   “In what world is that a good evening?”, I laugh.

   “For me it is”, he smiles.

   “You’re insane”, I shake my head and relax against him.

   “Oh, most defiantly”, I could hear the smirk in his voice just before once again he sends me to the ground.

    I growl and turn over to glare him.

   “Who taught you how to fight? You are awful”, he chuckles. “Where you ever taught to not trust your opponent?”

   “Most of my instructors weren’t as hands on”, I admit and this time lay on the ground.

   “What sort of teachers don’t give hands on experience during hand to hand combat?”, he snides as he comes over to stand next to me.

   “Terrible ones apparently”, I grin up at him.

   While he was busy admiring his work, I was able to hook my leg around the back of his and kick. Sending him tumbling to the ground.

   I grin when he lands on his back with a whimper, only proud of myself until I realized he landed on his wings.

   “Oh Mother, you alright?”, I ask and turn onto my stomach to get closer.

   He only grunts as I place a hand on his chest.

   “Looks like I may have been mistaken in falling for that damsel in distress trick”, he sighs and swats at my hand to turn onto his own tummy and heavy himself up off the ground. His wings stretching with thick cords of muscle from his back. Raising and falling to check that everything still worked. Catching the last bit of sunbeams in the many roads of gold and copper run through with crimson rivers driven to the tips of the bones that stretched the leather.

   It was beautiful and graceful and I couldn’t help but be memorized by the sight of them. Peregryn wings had their own sort of glory with the sheen of their feathered wings, but Illyrian wings where brutal and haunting.

   Without even realizing it I had reached up only grazed the tips of my fingers over the smooth skin of the wing.

   Every bone in his body frozen and I could hear the shudder of his heart as it paused in his chest. His eyes falling shut for a moment as a hiss passed his sharpened teeth.

   “Do not touch my wings”, he growled as his knuckles turned white. I pull back my hand away quickly.

   “Sorry, I didn’t realize they were. . . sensitive”, the heat in my cheeks making my head bows.

   “Rhysand didn’t explain that to you?”, he asks through heavy breaths.

   I shake my head, “He never had his wings open except when aiding him in battle while I was his charge. And after that we never spent enough time in each other’s company for me to see his wings all that much. We mostly spoke through the bond we share over the years.”

   “Well, let me to be the first to tell you. Never, under any circumstances, touch an Illyrian’s wings without their permission. They are extremely sensitive, and are our means of survival. They are our pride and joy. They are private, and for intimate partners only. You wouldn’t much like it if I walked up to you and grabbed your breast without your consent, would you?”, he sneers as he sits up.

   My stomach clenches tightly.

   “I’m so sorry. I – I didn’t realize, I didn’t mean to hurt you, or be inappropriate”, I stammer out.

   “You didn’t know. I will let this time pass”, he nods. “Just. . . Don’t do it again.”

   I nod as he tucks them close to his body and stands.

   “We should be getting back”, he mutters at the sky and I nod before picking myself back up.

   He wasted no time in plucking me up off the ground and scooped me into his arms once more after putting back on his shirt and leather jacket. Barely giving me enough time to grab my own jacket and bag. My small body dwarfed in his shadow.

   It might have been the ancient parts of me, but it felt good being tucked up against his chest as he carried me to the cliff face not but a few feet from the clearing we had been training in. I felt safe as he stood at the edge. Even as he took a breath and let us fall into open air.

   The wind screamed the faster we’d fall into the canyons between the mountains. It tore and ripped at my hair and skin. Making my eyes water and blur before adjusting while Devlon banked and caught the wind as his wings snapped open. 

   I squeak and dig my fingers into the folds of his leathers in order to have a better grip. Burying my face into his neck to hide from the wind as he simply smiled and continued on in silence.

   But that silence was broken by a soul shattering howl that erupted from him. Devlon’s back arching and seizing as an arrow flew from a rock face and into his back.

   His grip on me turned vice as his instincts kicked in and every ounce of his strength into his wings. Pushing us faster through crevasses and around the bends steeper then blades, but somehow arrows kept finding us.

   One well-placed arrow placed in the place where his wing met his back, and he fell.

   Falling was all consuming. I could hear nothing but the ringing of my own heart beat in drumming in my ears. I think I was yelling. Trying to call Devlon’s name, but all the male could do was wrap his wings around us. Closing us in darkness to take our last breaths, and wait for the fall to end.

   An end that didn’t come.

~

   On waking I find my body sprawled across rocky shores of a wild river. My mind left in tatters as I look around. The events leading up to this swamping me as I sit up.

   “Devlon?”, I gasp hoarsely. Franticly glancing down the sore. “DEVLON!!!”

   No sight of him as I stagger up to my feet and glance further down each way.

   “Devlon!”, I whimper and drag my hands through my hair.

   Breath, I remind myself. You need to breath, and think.

   There was no time as the sound of wings beating thundered above. For a moment I rejoiced because it would be Cassian coming to find us. Then I thought about how else would someone be able to get up in the mountains in the first place. Wings. The enemy also had wings. It could easily be the ones who wanted him, and as a witness, myself dead.

   So, I scrambled behind a bolder close enough to the mountain face that I was well hidden. Closing my eyes and stilling my heart beat as two creatures land by the river side.

   “The girl could have gone far from the male. This is the next bend”, one slithered through a forked tongue.

   “I still don’t get why we couldn’t just eat the male. Seems like such a waist of perfectly good meat”, the other sneered.

   “He’s filled with bloodbane, unless you want an early death, I suggest you don’t”, said the first Attor.

   Devlon. I think as I try to keep my breath steady. Hoping that the roar of the river and my soaked clothes was enough to keep me from being heard or scented.

   The second creature grumbles, “If we leave without proof of the girl’s death then we shall be dead by nightfall.”

    “That storm is coming too swiftly. We won’t be able to find her any time soon if the river has claimed her. Better die in loyalty to our King then cowards shivering in the cold. Come, let’s collect the archers and go home”, the leader nods after giving the rocky space one more glance before taking to the skies. His friend following close behind and I do not leave the safety of my hiding spot until their beating wings are long gone.

  Only then did I scramble back to my feet and went to running for the direction the Attor’s had come from. Clinging to rugged rock face when it got too narrow that I had to shuffle around. Half way almost losing my balance from the sheer joy and panic of spotting a mass of leather and wings on the next shore line. Not daring to call his name until I was knelt by his side.

    “Oh, Mother above”, I gasp at the number of arrows puncturing out off his back. Near thirty, maybe. I had no time to count as the clouds came to take away the sun.

   Shit. Shit shit shit shit. I chanted as I looked around. Nothing but rock and the creeping edges of the mountain pine forests. Out here there was no cover. No caves. Nothing.

   So, the trees it was.

   I grabbed onto whatever part of him I could. His legs, his belt, or arm. Anything, but his wings which I had to maneuver carefully not to further damage, in order to get this rock heavy male to the trees. I didn’t stop until I was satisfied the hidden place of low hanging branches where I could attempt to shield us from the rain.

   I did not even let myself rest then before kneeling again beside him and untying the leather strap from his hair. Snapping it in half to bind his hands and ankles. Taking his unconscious state to bind him. I’ve seen Illyrians act only out of feral instinct while in pain before. I knew to protect myself and him, he needed to be at least restrained enough to give me time to get out of the way.

   Breaking off a small branch off a nearby tree to place as a guard in his mouth was the last step before I made quick work of pulling out the first arrow.

   It was enough to have him jolt and scream past the branch in his mouth. Splintering the wood and struggle against his restraints, but with the serge that no doubt jolted down his spine made him buckle and settle back on the pine needle covered ground.

   “Devlon”, I call as gently as I can without crying. From fright or relief, I couldn’t tell. I don’t know.

    His eyes dart to me in a burning furry. A low predatory snarl directed at me.

   “Dev, it’s okay. You’re safe now. It’s me, Cybele. You know me. You named me. I’m your friend”, I coo to him. Taking a cautious crawling step towards him.

   His expression softens at my name. His eyes blinking a few times to glance around. A look of confusion and anger taking over him.

   “It’s okay. We’re safe for now, but you’re hurt really bad. I need to get those arrows out of your back”, I try to explain. “Please Devlon, please let me help you.”

   For a few moments he can barely lift his head. Using what strength he might have left he nodded and braced himself on the ground.

   Crawling back over I and lay a hand on his side in reassurance. “This is going to hurt, but I need you to try and keep still.”

   Another nod.

   I took a deep breath before starting my work again.

   It was a terrible, groosum task. I had gotten through at least fifteen before he had completely collapsed. My only comfort, the shallow rise and fall of his stomach as a sign he was still alive. Only after the last arrow did the clouds give into the heavy freezing rain.

   With finally every one of them out I had gone along and healed the each. They had all taken longer than they should have to close, even with the help of my powers. He’s lost so much blood, he’s completely soaked, and spent.

    As soon as I had the chance to took off my cloak and threw it around his top half as best I could. Taking out a spare blanket to throw over then low branches to keep the rain at bay, then dragging him over to lean against the tree.

   He couldn’t even be kept upright so I ended up with putting myself against the tree and having his head laid up against my chest.

   Only then did I let myself cry.

   I sobbed there in the rain holding Devlon’s shoulder as tightly as I could. I was tired, hungry, cold, and wet. The worst of it being that I was scared. So very scared.

   I had no idea what the bloodbane was that those Attor’s spoke of. I had never even heard of it before. Whatever it was, it seemed to slow fae healing to a near standstill, and along with the ash wood arrows, they had worked so perfectly that it sent a battle-hardened Illyrian warrior into a state of defeat.

  Still weeping I place my cheek to his forehead to feel his skin burning with fever. My heart clenched, and I did the only thing I knew I could do.

   I prayed.

   “Mother above,

Please I beg you, hear your child crying. I am so afraid, and I’m so very lost.

Devlon is here with me. He’s hurt. . . He’s dying, oh Mother please, please don’t take him from me.

Yes, he is by no means a gentle male. He is hardened by years of cruelty, but he is still good. He fights and works hard to protect and cherish his people. He is a good male. His last thought was to protect me. To wrap me in the protection of his wings. His own pride and glory.

Mother, hold him. He is not ready to leave this plain. He has still so much to do, and I need him. Mother, I need him to be okay. Please, send aid. Mother great and good, Mother kind and tender, send aid.”

   I prayed and prayed until the words were trembling out of my mouth as I rocked him. I sang hymmes and poems from old fae texts as I stroked his hair.

   It was the only comfort I had.

   “Don’t you dare leave me now. Don’t you dare die on me; do you hear me Devlon. Don’t you dare die on me you stubborn Bastard”, I cry and laugh as I watched tears and water run down his cheeks.

   The only thing that took my mind off of him was a twig snapping from behind. I didn’t hesitate to pull out my dagger and spin to face the hunched over figure shrouded in rags and thick cloak. The forest goes quiet.

    “Well now, what has happened here?”, the creature croons from the safety of its cloaked form. Looking down at me like a youngling with a stick to defend itself.

   “Stay away from him”, I hiss. I am no fool. I knew what sort of creature’s lived in these mountains. Rhysand has told me many stories of encounters of ancient clever creatures up in the mists.

   “Now now faeling, no need to be rude. I am only passing by in search for food”, it hums.

   “He is not for eating”, I growl lowly.

   “Well, it seems he soon shall be nothing but meat”, it glances over Devlon’s shivering pail skin. “I can smell death on him.” 

    “He’s full of bloodbane, I don’t think he’d taste all that good”, I mutter and hold Devlon a bit tighter.

   “Bloodbane? Now why would he have eaten that?”, the creature asks as he kneels to sit only a few feet away.

    “He didn’t eat it. He was shot with its oil on the iron tips of ash arrows”, I explain.

   “Ash arrows and Bloodbane. My my, someone really wanted your male dead then”, he snorts with laughter as if it were a joke.

    “Stop that!”, I spit. “My friend is dying and you dare laugh! Why don’t you make yourself useful and tell me how to cure him?”

   “What makes you think I know any cure?”, it asks with soft clicking.

   “You’re obviously a Suriel. You’ve walked this world longer than most, please, you must know something”, I beg.

   “Clever girl, but not clever enough”, it sighs. “What are you willing to give me?”

   So that Devlon doesn’t die. So, he can go home to his people.

   “Anything”, I answer. Knowing full well that I’ve doomed myself.

   “A favor then”, the Suriel grins.

   “What sort of favor?”, I wince.

   “I am not sure yet. Perhaps I will hold you to your word until I need something”, it offers. “What say you faeling? A life for a life?”

   “I agree”, I nod and the slight tang of metal tastes in my mouth as the promise is bound.

   “Now, perhapes if you were cleverer you would have realized that the cure is in the name. Bloodbane is cured through the consumption of mated blood”, the tone it gives sends shivers through my spine.

   “But I am not his mate”, I question.

   It hums distastefully.

   “You are a child of the Dawn, are you not. Your blood is filled with the warmth of tender healing. Perhaps it will be enough”, it muses and stands to leave.

   “Wait, you can’t just leave!”, I protest, but the creature had left as quickly as it had come. Leaving me with only that bit of information.

   Looking down at his sweat covered face, at how pail he has become, I didn’t have any other options or hope.

   Taking up the dagger I still hand in hand I brought it to my wrist and sliced open my skin. A gasp left my lips at the sharp bite of cold metal but at my distress Devlon’s eyes had peeked open.

   A small relief fell over me as I watched them close again.

   “No wait, stay awake. I have something for you to drink. I know it wont taste good, but I need you to drink”, I tell him while firmly gripping his cheeks to open his mouth and place my bleeding flesh on his lips. “Drink Devlon, please drink.”

   His brows knit ever so slightly, but as the blood landed on his tongue he obeyed. Only at first weakly licking at the wound, but after a few moments he was downing mouthfuls. I had to pry him off after his fith gulp.

   He snarled and bit down to latch onto me, but pinching the bridge of his wing made him gasp and pull away. Ragged breath leaving him still to worn out to move.

   My wound quickly sealed, but the punctures of his fangs remained as faint scares, but my greatest concern was to make sure Devlon was taken care of.

   In a daze he looked up at the pine trees above. Only focusing on me once I was kneeling beside him again. A content expression once more settling over his face when his eyes find mine.

   “Cyb-?”, he grunts and tries to move.

   “No, try not to move. You need to rest. You’re still very hurt, and I’m not sure how my blood will help you, but I needed to try something. Anything”, I brush his long hair from his face. “Please rest.”

   “Safe?”, he asks.

   “For now,” I nod. “Don’t worry, I’m watching over you.”

   He nods but reaches for my scared wrist. Gentle as if not to hurt me. Pressing his nose into my skin as either an apology or a thanks. It makes me laugh and tear up again.

   Devlon’s hand grips me a bit tighter and pulls me close that somehow, I end up curled into his chest as he lay on the ground on his side. I lay there and let myself cry again. Burying my face into his chest and just cry.

   Once more his wing raised and encircled me. The veins shielding us from the rain and cold. The dark welcomed my exhaustion and sleep claimed me before I even had the chance to think it threw.