Elide

They had just returned to the campsite when Lorcan muttered something about itchy scalp and stomped away, branches splitting wildly in his wake. Elide simply walked over to the roaring fire Gavriel had started and unceremoniously plopped herself on a log.

Gavriel, who had been sharpening one of his many knives, paused his task and considered the pair. Noticing his probing glance, Elide decided to start up conversation before he could comment.

"Gavriel, why did you join Maeve's cadre?"

Gavriel smiled tightly, the light not quite entering his tawny eyes. "I was young when I first came across Maeve. She was a pure conduit of power even then and there was not a single Fae male who was not attracted to her…abilities." Gavriel glanced away from Elide, as though embarrassed to admit he'd once desired the Queen. Perhaps she had not always been so sadistic.

"But," he continued. "I did not join her cadre so much as she collected me for it. Maeve saw my strength, my loyalty, and offered me the Blood Oath. I accepted and served her proudly for centuries." He paused, his golden brows knitting. "Had."

"Lorcan, on the other hand," he continued, seeing through her façade easily. Elide blushed, glad for the excuse of the fire hiding her flaming cheeks. "Lorcan is a different story."

Her throat bobbed. "What do you mean?"

Gavriel tilted his head and seemed to be listening for something for a moment. Perhaps he was making sure Lorcan was not within earshot. When he was content, Gavriel continued. "Did Lorcan tell you he is demi-Fae?"

She shook her head, though she'd assumed as much.

"Demi-Fae are not as…accepted by our society, to put it mildly." He smiled, apologetically. "They are looked down upon by Fae and not quite human enough to be welcomed by them either. Because of this, most of the time the children of Fae and humans are abandoned. They are called Lost Children. They are the unseen, the untrained, forgotten. They live on the streets of whichever villages they are not cast from.

"For a long time, I believed Maeve generous when only she sought the Lost Children for recruitment. Now I realize she did so because it's much easier to recruit from those who have no home, no families, no future to turn from.

"Lorcan was a child when Maeve found him, but even then she knew he would grow to be strong. Perhaps the strongest demi-Fae in centuries. She saw the gifts in him that hail from Hellas and offered him the Blood Oath. Lorcan accepted, of course. I think Maeve was the first person that gave him hope."

Gavriel grew silent, dwelling on gods knew what he had been through while in Maeve's cadre. Elide didn't know how to respond. They sat in silence for a while, listening to the wood crackle and pop in the fire. As the flames danced in her eyes, Elide turned over Gavriel's words. She of all people could understand what Lorcan had been through. Having been forgotten herself, she'd never been allowed to hope. Any hope she found had been swiftly stamped out by her Uncle until the day she had met the Blackbeak witch, Manon. Elide had nearly been destroyed and she had merely been surviving before the day Manon had claimed her as one of her own. Witchling.

She had felt a different kind of hope with Lorcan. And as she sat there trying to compare him to Maeve and failing, that the hope she had felt was not all lost. Elide sat for a while and when she could ignore the soft pull over her shoulder anymore, she got up.

Lorcan

Lorcan sat on a soaking wet rocky shore near a slow-moving stream. He had stormed away from the campsite hours ago, leaving Elide behind after making sure she was safe. Gavriel would watch her or he would pay for it with his life. Lorcan could trust the Lion.

He was in a wallowing mood, occasionally tossing rocks across the stream. Lorcan had picked this spot knowing it was a watering oasis for nearby animals. He had thought that by hunting, he could release some of his pent up energy. But even they seemed to have picked up on his foul mood and stayed far, far away.

He had just pulled off his wet shirt, intending to dry it somehow, when he heard the creaking branch. Lorcan's head snapped behind him. Had he been so distracted by his meandering thoughts he hadn't sensed someone coming? He was tense for a moment before he scented her. He inhaled the scent of elderberries and cinnamon, the very essence that was her. Elide.

He saw her long before she was visible under the moonlight, his heightened Fae senses dazed as she descended through the trees towards him like a ghostly wraith. He supported her delicate ankle with his dark magic as he always did when she was near. Then he waited, every muscle in his body still, not daring even to stand.

"Lorcan," she said and he could've collapsed then and there. It was a full minute before he realized he was staring at her, dumbly.

"Elide," her name was a caress from his lips. Her face was unreadable. She crossed over to him, stopping when she was a few feet away. She glanced away, then back at him, considering. Her black eyes flickered.

"I don't know if I can forgive you."

He licked his lips. "I know."

She inhaled. "But I also know that forgiveness can't happen if I don't let you try."

Oh, gods. He stood slowly, feeling unsteady as he came up next to her. He towered over her small frame, but still she dominated him. Hope was such a fickle thing.

Elide continued, her soft throat bobbing, her voice soft. "I don't hate you."

Another step, their bodies only inches apart now. Slowly, Lorcan drew her hand up to his lips and kissed it. He felt her callouses against his as she pulled her hand from his grasp. He watched Elide slide both arms behind her back. Her arms were tensed, as though she regretted the motion.

"I've never—I can't lose you, Elide," Lorcan choked out. He was drawn to that light in her, the longing so fierce he no longer felt whole without her.

Elide's mouth twitched. "You need to figure out your heart, Lorcan. I don't know how I can forgive you if you remain loyal to Maeve." She spat the Queen's name out, as though it were dirty in her beautiful mouth.

"For so long, I thought I loved her."

Elide's stomach coiled, Lorcan could see the disgust plainly written on her face. He shook his head. "For centuries no one asked anything from me save for her. I thought being her warrior…" He shook his head. "Then I met you. And I knew that though Maeve had saved me from my worthless life, she hadn't given me a life worth living. I've never felt…"

His eyes glimmered. Elide's fingers shook as she carefully swiped off his tears. She sighed. "Maeve doesn't have you anymore," she whispered. Elide was so close he felt her whisper against his mouth. Lorcan leaned towards those soft lips, but Elide pulled away before they touched.

He ached to pull her small figure against him, to crush her to him and never let her go again. But she had pulled away.

"We should get some sleep. We need our strength to…"

…to find Aelin Galathynius, her Queen. The queen who had sacrificed herself rather than let Elide be taken and tortured. The queen who had known the moment he'd summoned Maeve and had not announced his betrayal, had not justifiably ordered him put down for his stupidity.

It had been Elide who had pointed out that it had not been hatred he'd felt towards the young queen, but jealousy at her relationship with Rowan.

Lorcan didn't think he'd ever forgive himself for having let the queen be captured, even if they somehow found and rescued her. After a silent moment, Elide and Lorcan walked by the campsite. Feet apart with so much still left unsaid.