#peep the 'mountain growing mushrooms on his head' part

[forlorn-crows]

You want ~ghoul prompts~ you say?

There's been an influx of mean Rain lately (correctly so, we love mean Rain), but how do we feel about mean Aether? Mountain needs to be broken just right, and I bet Aether knows exactly how to do it.

Aether ended up being only a lil bit mean. But we're still breaking Mountain, don't worry.

I recommend listening to Hypnosis by Sleep Token while reading.

Mountain’s head is spinning. He’s been pacing the greenhouse for hours, unable to shake the worry and frustration. There’s no reason for it, just something that visits every so often to haunt his mind. He thought the grueling two hours of rehearsal would beat it out of him, but, in fact, it now burned hotter, seeping deep into his veins. His mind is maddening. Exasperating. And he wants it turned off. 

Thankfully, a certain quintessence ghoul has a knack for doing just that.

“Aether,” Mountain says, a little frenzied. He’s decided to burst into Aehter’s room unannounced, unable to take it any longer.

“You okay, Mountain?” He takes in his lanky form, little beads of sweat dotting his forehead, chest heaving, wide, pleading eyes. Shoeless, naturally. Little vines of ivy growing behind his ears where his elemental control waned. “Woah, hey big guy.” His tone is worried, understandably so. But Mountain doesn’t want pity. He wants direction. He wants—needs—an anchor. He wants everything else to fade to a pinpoint, where all he can think is Aether.

He wants him to break him. Fuck his consciousness into tiny little pieces and put him back right and whole again.

“Turn it off,” he rasps.

Aether stands to meet the ghoul in the doorway. Shuffles him inside wordlessly and closes the door. That heinous look is still on his face: searching, worry, confusion. “Mount, what do you need me t—”

“Turn.” Mountain kneels in front of him. “It.” Grabs Aether’s hands. “Off.” Places both of his warm palms to flank the side of his head, just below the horns. His words are demanding and pleading at the same time.

Aether’s expression softens, a knowing smile quirking up the corners of his mouth. “Oh.” His fingers card into those mousy brown locks, lightly scratching at the scalp.  Mountain’s hands slide down to his sides as Aether gets the hint, and he sighs, long and drawn out. “Ah, there’s my gentle giant.” Aether pinches off the vines with deft fingers, reaching up to pluck the little brown mushrooms that found their home around his horns, too.

“Please,” he croaks, melting into the touch.

Aether steps closer, hip just inches from the earth ghoul’s cheek. “You’re so polite. Who would I be to deny a ghoul in need?”

Mountain looks up at him. His eyes are already fluttering at the suggestion of magick sparking from Aether’s fingertips, sinking into his skin as one hand caresses the back of his neck, threads into his hair and—

Pulls.

Just like that a shock of quintessence surges through his brain, kicking all the worry and unwanted stress out of his mind and leaving it blissfully and dizzyingly empty. Mountain never takes for granted how his powers could absolutely kill a ghoul—leave him a crumpled, hollow shell of a vessel in an instant and with a simple snap of his fingers.

But he doesn’t. He tows the line between a simple haze and a voided fog, and it makes Mountain fall perfectly every time. Lucid, but just . . . blank. Malleable.

Breakable.

Mountain’s head slumps forward, cheek resting against Aether’s hipbone. Aether huffs out a laugh, running his hands down the curve of Mountain’s neck and onto the tops of his shoulders. “How’s that, pebble?”

Mountain groans. “Don’t wanna think anymore. Need you to tell me,” he slurs.

“Hmm,” he hums. “Bend you, twist you whatever way I want?”

Mountain nods, pants already growing tight. “Anything,” he breathes.

Aether ducks down, lips barely grazing against the pointed ear. He hovers there; doesn’t kiss, doesn’t tease him with any words. It has Mountain leaning further against him, yearning.

Suddenly, he’s thrown off balance as Aether stands up and pulls away from him. He lands on his hands and knees at Aether’s feet.

“Needy,” Aether comments, a little bit of bite in his voice. “Up. I think you’re gonna start by sitting pretty on my cock.”

And he does. Legs trembling as Aether guides him down, stretching him wide.

“Ah fuck, Aethe—” His own cock, rigid and heavy between them, leaks a spurt of precum as he bottoms out. He tosses his head back and forth, sensations made ten times more overwhelming and consuming with quintessence running through him.

“You take so well, pebble. That’s what you want isn’t it; to be tamed?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Mountain chants. He grinds down, reveling in the way he’s filled out. Split open. Aether rolls his hips in response, grinning lazily at the gasp it earns him.

“So sensitive. Bet you could come just like this. I’d barely have to do a thing.”

Mountain’s cock kicks in response to his words, because of course it does. He brackets his hands around Aether’s head, gripping the headboard he’s propped them against. He can barely keep his eyes open any more, giving in to the slide of Aether inside him and the warm magick seeping into his bones.

“Aether,” he breathes. “Please.”

The quintessence ghoul grips his hips, nuzzles his head into the crook of his neck. “Yes, darling?”

“Oh,” Mountain moans. “Aethe—I need—” the words die on his tongue as Aether sucks at the junction of his neck and reaches around to stroke at the base of his tail. Mountain’s hips stutter against him, and he’s shaking his head again, trying to get the words to come out.

“Too loud, ‘s still too loud.” He means his thoughts, but it’s all he can muster. Despite the hypnotizing ways Aether is touching him, his mind is starting to cut through the haze again, somehow.

“Mountain,” Aether says deviously, knowing exactly what he means. The desperation is rolling off the earth ghoul, palpable. “Oh, little pebble, you just want to be taken, don’t you?” His mouth creeps up Mountain’s jawline. “Owned.” Darts his tongue out to lick at Mountain’s bottom lip. “Broken.”

Mountain whines, and it’s all the confirmation Aether needs to crash their lips together and roll Mountain to his back before he fucks him with reckless abandon. Thrusts hard and fast, wringing moan after wanton moan out of Mountain’s slack mouth. Mountain takes everything Aether is willing to give.

It’s in the throws of unholy flesh melding together that his mind finally, finally, falls away.

[scurvgirl]

The Princess Ventured Into the Dark Forest

Fairy Tale AU

Part One, Two, Three, Four

Meanwhile Part One, Part Two

Worldbuilding

Serahlin Art

Past the waterfall, the forest changes. Sunlight becomes sparse as the canopy of leaves overhead thicken. The trees here are old growth and Serahlin can feel the eyes of a dozen tiny spirits watching her as she follows Huirin.

She must remain strong. Adannar is hidden away here, somewhere, and he could need her. This is a terrible place to go missing, deep in the dark part of the forest with no one but peeping spirits to watch the tragedy. She cannot just leave him be, not while she can ride after him and help him. It is the least she can do after he has done so much for her.

“How much farther, Huirin?” She asks. The mechanical deer turns its head to her. Its usual whirring noise pauses to click twice, two metal eyelids roll over reflective eye sockets. It is some sort of communication, but not one she can discern. It turns its attention back to whatever trail it’s following to Adannar, the whirring kicking up once again.

Velini snorts but follows the strange deer. It is not long until they start to noticeably ascend what must be a small mountain. The path is surprisingly sure, however, and Velini does not struggle with his footing. The trees curve over the path, only a few having roots that disrupt the packed earth and…stones? Who would lay a stone path this deep in the woods?

They come to a fork in the path, one leading up, another down. Sunlight spills down, illuminating the path that leads up, while casting the path leading down in dark shadow. Huirin, of course, heads down. Serahlin swallows and steels herself before urging Velini to continue to follow Huirin.

Thick shadows envelope them as they descend, and the forest visibly changes. She is reminded of the great tree Adannar showed her, the one housing a spirit of Content. These trees feel…they feel like that. Magical. Aware. Watching.

The leaves begin to take on iridescent and glowing hues, mushrooms even appear to be larger and brighter. And an air of tingling magic surrounds them all. The little hairs on Serahlin’s arms and the back of her neck rise at the magic. Her concern morphs into a near panic. Adannar likes to harvest alchemical ingredients – they’re for his creatures and for potions he likes to dabble in. He laughed once, saying he was no alchemist, but he can concoct some poultices and potions that are helpful. He gave her one, once, to help sore muscles. She cannot be certain, but she suspects these mushrooms and other plants are likely subjects for alchemical harvesting. He could have fallen, hit his head! Or twisted his ankle, broken his leg, his arm…the list goes on.

She keeps fighting the urge to ask Huirin if it knows anything. It could, it very well could, but that doesn’t mean she will understand what it says. Or blinks, or whirrs. She should have asked Adannar to teach her how to communicate with his creatures, that way in case something like this happened she would be able to find him more quickly. It’s no matter now, but when she finds him, she is going to sit him down and have him teach her. After he gets better, of course. If she doesn’t kill him herself, after scaring her like this.

Huirin keeps the same walking pace, and it feels terribly slow. They started the search hours ago! And still no sign of Adannar. Where is he? Heavens, she hopes he isn’t dead, that…that would be the worst.In the short amount of time they have spent together, she has come to care for him, more than she ever thought possible. Before, she had resigned herself to a loveless marriage – to a good man, but still loveless. She never dreamed that when she ran she would ever find someone like Adannar. She did not know that such kindness could lurk in such unexpected places.

Now she must return the favor. It’s the right thing to do and besides she…cares for him. Deeply. So much so that the thought of fulfilling her duty to marry Dirthamen or someone else fills her with a sour taste in her mouth and dread in her heart.

She cannot in good conscious marry someone while she feels this way for Adannar. It isn’t right. Even if it is simply political, a marriage is a marriage. She would still be connected to Dirthamen and longing for someone else.

At least hiding out in the woods means she doesn’t have to marry anyone she does not desire.

Feeling like for Adannar is exactly why she needs to find him. And why if he turns up dead or hurt, she’ll kill him for scaring her so. She’ll kiss him, then kill him. Or maybe she’ll just kiss him. Really, she just needs to find him.

They descend ever further into the darkened forest, now illuminated by glowing mushrooms and other plants she doesn’t know. Adannar had been teaching her some of the more mundane plants, focusing on the herbs and foliage that could help her. None of the plants here could be defined as mundane. Some of them even come across as hostile. Before, she would never have believed a plant could be hostile, but nothing makes as much sense as it did. Or perhaps she just sees more.

Huirin makes a clicking noise and Velini stops, dragging Serahlin out of her thoughts. The air is colder and the glow from the mushrooms darken. Some of the mushrooms even shrink back as a shadow slinks through the trees.

Velini shakes and steps back. She tries to comfort him but he is inconsolable as the shadow draws nearer. Huirin’s clicking noise grows louder before it leaps at the shadow, a light emanating from its head. The shadow shrinks back in haste, and the mushrooms grow back, lighting the pathway once more.

“What was that?” She asks, breathless and more than a little disturbed. Huirin turns to her, plates on its head reforming to the face she is familiar with. It makes a low whining noise then shakes. Right. It’s…whatever that was.

Serahlin reaches down and pats Velini’s neck, reassuring the horse even while she needs reassuring herself. That shadow is only one beast that occupies this forest, she reminds herself. Just because she has been fortunate in the forest does not mean that her experience is representative of the nature of the forest. A dragon lurks here, as do many other creatures that would see her harmed. Or worse.

Huirin chirps at them and Serahlin encourages her horse to follow it. Remember Adannar, remember that he could need her and Velini.

The path winds down but it remains a path. To where, she can only guess a terrible pit filled with bodies. Maybe this path was made by beasts that would haul their kills off to a deep part of the forest and perform dark rituals furthering their beastliness.

She has got to find Adannar if only to stop these ridiculous thoughts from polluting her mind.

Huirin turns around a bend and Serahlin follows – to see the mouth of a large cave. Long dark moss dangles, nearly obscuring the soft light emanating from the cave. Light, from a cave. It is a magical forest, she reminds herself. Huirin ducks into the cave, the moss trailing over its smooth metal body. Its pace remains that same, undeterred by the cave and moss. It is likely safe, then, or as safe as it can be.

Deep breaths, she can do this. Be brave, be brave.

She urges Velini forward and braces herself for the moss. It is soft, but in her face and not unlike unwanted touches in a ballroom. Thankfully, it is over in a heartbeat and she is free to ride tall and unhindered after Huirin.

As she crosses the threshold, a wave of magic comes over her and she gasps at the rush of it. Magic back home always felt cool and powerful, and tame compared to the wild swirling gusts of it in the forest. Here, magic is like its own entity, moving and shifting. And powerful.

It makes sense that the magic in the forest, and so deep into it, would have a lot of magic. Spirits form out of massive emotion and magic, if one is not present, then the spirit cannot form. Its why spirits are not common back home, and why they almost take on bodies as soon as they can. Without a well of magic present, maintaining their spirit forms is not only difficult, it’s risky. Spirits who do not wish to take on bodies back home risk shrinking into nothing or shattering from the strain to stay alive.

She knew that it wasn’t like that everywhere, but it was shocking to see so many spirits in the wood. Adannar had explained that he was the rarity. Most spirits in the wood opt to refrain from a corporeal form.

If that is so, she wonders why Adannar took on a body.

Her thoughts settle as the magic flurries away from her, allowing her to gaze in stunned awe at the cave around her. No, not a cave, a…she has no proper word for this! The walls are shined stone, swirling with blues, greens, greys, and browns. Just past the mouth of the cave, the walls turn from rounded to actual walls. The ceiling is high, and not just palace high but so high that she cannot quite make out where the ceiling is. Only that it is there.

Huirin is undeterred, but perhaps it cannot experience the incredible magnitude of this place. The magic, the obvious care that has been taken to create a palatial home…cave. Enchanted sconces light up as they walk by, blue tinted light illuminating the smooth walls.

Velini’s hoofbeats echo in the hallway, filling the otherwise silent room with a steady beat.

What is this place? Who made this?

Is this some entrance to the dwarven empire? She thought those were heavily guarded and sealed off while the surface nations battled the dragons. Perhaps they forgot about this entrance? Or maybe the age of the place marks it as different? Maybe it was abandoned ages ago due to the magical fluctuations in the forest.

Huirin stops at the end of the hallway and turns to her, its eyes mimic blinking and it makes a whistling noise at her.

“I am still following,” she asserts. It would make some sense if this was an entrance to the dwarven empire. They have crafting abilities that would fascinate Adannar considering his hobby of creating these automatons.

Huirin turns to the right, down a set of stairs, activating more lights with its descent. Serahlin dismounts and hitches Velini to a sconce holding a stone. She follows Huirin on foot, down the stairs, feeling dread creep into her. She is not that strong, if she needs to pick him up…how will she?

The stairs end and another hallway stretches before the, but now piled with stuff. There are boxes upon boxes upon dresses and cabinets and satchels…just so much stuff.

“What is all of this?!” She says, mostly to herself but Huirin takes it upon itself to make a few chirps then a low honking noise, not unlike a goose.

“Don’t take that tone with me, this is a lot of stuff…and why is fine tableware next to not so fine linens? And is that a…lamp? That’s from Veharan, across the gulf, isn’t it? Oh, and those are silks from Pah’naar! What in the world was Adannar doing down here?” She’s beginning to suspect he found this place and has gotten enveloped in snooping through all of this stuff! Where did it come from? Who collected all this?

Some of these things are seriously beautiful, and they are just…wasting away in this cave. As nice as cave it is, it is still sequestered away from everything.

Huirin chirps at her, making her realize she has stopped moving. Serahlin snaps out of her awe for everything around her and steps quickly after the mechanical deer.

The hallway curves and there are gaps in the piles of stuff. In those gaps are gigantic doors – one set of doors is open and inside is just another pile of things. Light reflects off the shinier and more valuable items, while others remain in crates and satchels. She pauses when her eye catches the light glinting off what must be a cascade of golden coins. Or a mountain of them.

All this wealth, all these things, stored away. What is this place?

Serahlin resumes following Huirin, coming to another large door that is cracked open. Huirin nods its head toward the door, then moves behind Serahlin and all but shoves her through the door.

“Excuse me!” She says, but follows his instructions and goes inside. Huirin does not follow and a heavy dread worms its way through Serahlin’s body. Whatever is in here is deterring even Huirin. Should she even be in here? The lights are dimmer and the stones in the sconces are not lighting as she walks carefully through the room.

The piles in here are much more specific, either pillows or blankets or other soft creations, making the space almost like a large bed.

A gigantic bed. For something as equally massive.

No, no, no. She has to get out of here, if Adannar truly wandered down here…he is not getting back out. A broken sob leaves her, the sound filling the space. She clamps a hand over her mouth in horror just as something massive moves in the shadows. A low rumbling echoes from the shadows making her eyes widen in terror.

Adannar deserves to be buried, deserves better than to die at the jaws of a cruel beast. And there is nothing she can do. She is unarmed, unarmored, and it has been more than a century since she has lifted a sword. And if she is not quick, she will only join her darling Adannar in his demise.

Oh Adannar, Serahlin mourns for a second before turning on her heel and running. She runs from the room and back down the hallway, past all the piles of stuff. Behind her, she hears the beast moving after her. Its breathing is loud, filling the hallway with a rumbling timbre that spurs her to go faster.

“Serahlin?” Her voice echoes through the space and horror fills her. It knows her name? How?! Heavens above, let her escape this treacherous place!

She runs up the stairs, her legs burning with protest. But she ignores it, she has to. The rumbling grows closer but she rounds the top of the stairs and rapidly unhitches Velini. She mounts her horse and spurs him into a run.

Velini charges down the hallway and out of the cave, and they are heading up the path when the earth shakes and she feels the wind at her back. It is a pushing motion followed by a pull – like when a bird takes off.

She tries to urge Velini to go faster, but they are on an incline and the horse can only go so fast. Goodness knows that he was never trained to outrun a dragon.

They reach the top of the hill when the air snaps with a sudden chill. The shadows from before surge forward, lead by a screeching white spirit with outstretched gnarled hands. Serahlin screams as the hands tear her clothes and sink into her body, causing pain to lance deep. Her vision blanks out and she only realizes Velini is throwing her too late.

He bucks wildly, throwing Serahlin, vision blurry and screaming down the hill. Her body slams into the earth and rolls. She tries to shield herself from the blows by the demon and the tumbling in equal measure.

The pain! She cannot see and as she falls, her heart races faster and faster and the demon grows stronger – sinking deeper into her.

She flails her arms back in a desperate attempt to grab hold of…something! Her hand comes up with a root that she snatches quickly, wrenching her arm and halting her suddenly. The sudden cessation of movement temporarily dislodges the demon and she gasps in relief, only for it to return with vengeance. It tears into her, forcing her to turn into herself, releasing the root. She does not move but she screams and writhes in pain.

The ground shakes and the demon hisses, its movements halting but it remains atop her. Serahlin doesn’t dare look up, only hoping for a reprieve, just…something to stop it. Stop it all. How does this keep happening? Running from monster to monster right to another monster. Is this world just so plagued that this is her fate? To be hounded and harmed and thrown to death time and time again? What a cruel fate, to never know lasting peace, to never have happiness be a constant fixture in her life. The pain of that is enough to make her sob, physical and spiritual pain surrounding her in a bubble that makes the demon screech in delight.

The dragon roars in retaliation, the sound deafening. Sudden heat fills the air and the demon is wrenched away from her. Serahlin gasps in pain of the removal of the claws but oh the relief! The pressure and pain ease, making her eyes snap open –

To see the dragon, the great and terrible dragon of the forest, pinning the demon, much larger and more solid seeming now, to the ground. It pulls its head back, golden mane moving almost beautifully with it. Its maw opens and from it spews a geyser of steam. The demon screams and shatters into a dozen dark shards.

It…killed the demon.

The dragon lifts a clawed hand and waves it over the shards. Magic fills the air as light blasts from the dragon’s palm. When it rests the hand, the shards are no longer dark but filled with soft light. It…not only killed the demon but managed to somehow purify shards? She has never heard of such a thing

Maybe…maybe it has forgotten she is here. The demon was very distracting as was the magic. Maybe, just maybe she can just…sneak away.

But when Serahlin tries to move away, she collapses against the ground, pain blooming anew in her chest. Her ribs…something is wrong.

The dragon’s head snaps towards her and the last thing she sees are its yellow eyes that are somehow vaguely familiar.

I’m so sorry, Adannar…I failed.

**

This is not how Adannar wanted Serahlin to discover his nature. And now she is injured on the forest floor, after witnessing him killing. He should have taken care of Torment years ago, he knows, and now she is paying for his inability to act.

A sound of torment escapes him, and he fears it just sounds…beastly. But she is unconscious now, limp and most likely internally bleeding after falling so far.

With ever so much care, Adannar picks her prone body up and murmurs a healing spell over her. It will keep her until he can heal her properly back in his home. He takes to the sky after some of the worst of the bleeding is resolved and hopes to everything good in this world that she will recover. He would not be able to handle her not, truly.

He takes her to a guest room that he has managed to clean in the recent months of knowing her. He had hoped he would one day bring her here, that she would sleep in this bed, surrounded by all the beautiful things he has collected throughout the years. He wanted to show her all of the beautiful things, to tell her stories of the people who once came to see him.

But now…she is alive, but hurt. She is surrounded by the beautiful things but all he cares about now is making sure that she is alright.

He spends the next two days laboring over her healing. He wishes she was stable enough for him to take her to Selene, but he does not even know if Selene would tolerate having someone like Serahlin in the Glass Tower. After all that she has been through…after her self-imposed isolation, he doubts it.

The first day is the worst. She has several broken ribs and one of her lungs ended up collapsing after he repaired the ribs. She lost a lot of blood to the demon and he has to replenish it somehow. He generally dislikes using spirit shards for anything other than helping birth new spirits, but he is filled with enough anger at Torment that he uses its shards to power himself to heal her. All of the shards, filling her so much with magical healing energy that it makes her hair grow even longer and her skin glow faintly.

He remembers when Torment was Composure. Brought into existence by a group of dignitaries from Veharan. But it had corrupted after the long years of isolation and the general lack of composure of everything around it. Now it will serve to bring the woman who had so exemplified its former self back to life.

The second day, Adannar cries. A poet once wrote that the reason rivers existed because dragons would cry atop mountains and the sadness had to flow somewhere. Oceans were of sorrow and sadness, of joyous triumph. It was a beautiful sentiment, incorrect but beautiful. But he does take care to cry into the river that runs under his lair, flowing from his home waterfall.

She brought so much light to this dark place. She made him feel joy again, made him feel more like himself than he has in hundreds of years. And he had only ever wanted to make her feel the same. He wants her to know the joy she has made him feel, he wants her to be surrounded by love and light and everything good. And instead, tragedy strikes.

He returns to her side, shifted into his elf form. He can feel her healing aura even down in the cellar and he worries he will shock her too badly if he remains in his true form. It is not much trouble to ensure she is comfortable. But if she asks…he will not lie. He cannot lie to her anymore, it is wrong, and she…she deserves to walk away if she wishes. He would not blame her if she did, not after…all this.

Adannar watches over her through the night, trying not to fall asleep. Sleeping in too late is what got them all into this mess. He had been resting so wonderfully, so deeply and perfectly, that he had not realized that he had not woken at the appropriate time to see her. He does not know why she decided to come looking for him, is it too much to hope that she had searched for him out of worry? And what a terrible fright to find his lair, finding him yes, but also finding something she had been taught to fear.

On the third day, Serahlin wakes. It is slow and Adannar must restrain himself from fussing too much over her.

“Memae…?” She murmurs, lifting her hand in his direction. He takes it gently between his and settles next to her.

“No, darling, it’s me, Adannar,” he tells her, smoothing hair away from her face. Serahlin blinks her eyes open, not only pink but faintly glowing with magic. And oh when she smiles it is like being bathed in holy light.

“Sweet Adannar,” she says, reaching up to his face, “if this is death, then it cannot be so bad if I am with you.”

His heart aches at the sentiment and he lets her pull him down to her, kissing her long and slow. She is warm and pliant so full of life. When he pulls back, he cups her face and regards her with the softest expression he can.

“As beautiful a sentiment that is, my dear, you are not dead, and neither am I.” Her brow scrunches in confusion and she shakes her head.

“How?”

“I healed your injuries with the shards of the demon,” he explains but her confusion remains.

“That does not make any sense. Huirin lead me into the dragon’s lair when I asked him to take me to you.” It is only then that she looks around and recognition dawns on her face. He is leaning back as she sits up, fear and shock bleeding off her.

“I…” she stops then turns to him, her once soft gaze now knowing and fearful, “you?”

He nods slowly, “I did not know how to tell you.”

“You…you…you lied to me?” She accuses, and he flinches. She is right, he lied and he has no recourse.

“I was afraid,” he says, unsure of how else to explain.

“You? You were afraid? You are a dragon!” She says, horror creeping into her voice. “You could have killed me!”

“I would never hurt you,” he says quickly.

“I don’t know that!” She responds just as quickly. He cannot meet her gaze, all he feels is shame for letting it go on for this long.

“Once, when the times were different, and my kind were not hunted or turned into storybook villains, I would have not hidden it. I was…afraid that you would know and refuse to know me, refuse any help I have to offer. It was wrong of me, selfish and wrong and I am so, so sorry.”

She draws her blanket around herself and moves into the corner of the bed as far away from him as she can get.

“You were never in any danger from me,” he says softly, “please, I…was afraid if you knew you would inform knights or someone.”

“So you lied?!”

“I did not mean for it to go on as long as it did. But I also did not expect to become so enamored with you, either, and I couldn’t…I was wrong.”

She is quiet for a long time, staring at him with the same horrified expression. He cannot tell what the worse crime is – being a dragon or lying about not being a dragon. But he knows that he never wanted this, and that his concealment has only made everything worse.

“So it is my fault that you fell in love with me and you couldn’t tell me the truth?” Her voice is low and sharp and it cuts him to down to size.

“No! It is my fault, I place none of the blame at your feet. I am…I was so wrong, and I have no preconceptions of your forgiveness.”

“I…can leave? I am not your prisoner?” She asks and that hurts too, to think that she ever thought he would be capable of such a horrid thing. He nods slowly.

“If it is your wish to leave, then I will not stop you, and neither will any of my creations. I will ensure your safety out of the forest even. You should not have to pay for my mistakes.”

She falls silent and he can see her thinking, coming to a conclusion that will hurt, but one he will respect.

“That is what I wish,” she murmurs. He nods and steps back.

“Very well. You may dress and then either I or Huirin can take you to your horse,” he says, keeping as much emotion from his voice as possible.

“I would prefer Huirin,” she replies and he nods again.

“It will be arranged. I hope you find all the happiness and joy your heart desires,” he says, leaving the room. He wants the last word to be kind and good and he cannot stand the thought of anything else. If she leaves, he wants her to remember as fondly as possible under the circumstances.

Adannar leaves her room and finds Huirin. He gives the deer instructions to wait for Serahlin then to take her to Velini. The horse had suffered some minor injuries but those had been easily healed. He has primarily rested and eaten in the past few days, and now he can take his rider back…to wherever she wishes to go.

Melancholy and heartache fill him so intensely, he must retreat to his rooms. But a restlessness takes hold, as well as a greediness to see her one last time. He moves from his rooms to the atrium, it is up higher into the mountain, with a great lift that allows him to rise quickly to the top of the mountain if he does not wish to don his true form. The glass ceiling opens like a flower and he steps out onto a small balcony, just in time to watch her ride out of his lair and into the forest.

Even now, his magic reaches out to her, surrounds her in a protective shield from whatever may threaten her in the forest. She will be protected in this place, even as she runs from it. And he will love her, even as she scorns him.