He cried out as his lover moved with him, his voice drowned out by the crashing of the waves. Salt spray drizzled into the cave, accompanied by the sea's loud roar. They had to meet here, away from prying eyes, in the dark and damp. But the coldness didn't bother him, not when they were together, with his trembling hands tangled in long tresses of soft blonde hair. He couldn't see it in the darkness, but he could feel the silken strands between his fingers.
He drew in a shuddering breath of salt air, the twisted bed of seaweed and tangled roots of the trees above digging into his back as he was filled. Their coupling was always a dichotomy, both tender and aggressive, passionate yet distant. But it had always been this way, for as long as they had been seeing one another in secret. Blue eyes hungrily bore into his green ones as he was willfully devoured, and then..nothing. He was toying with him again, damn him. He cursed in frustration as the ministrations abruptly stopped, tugging at his lover's hair and drawing a groan from the other's throat.
"Just do it already," he hissed as his lover chuckled, a low rumbling wheeze as he did as commanded, resuming his former pace and throwing the fair-skinned body beneath him into a satisfied haze. It was over far too soon, as it always was, as they lay beside one another in silence. They listened to the roar of the surf, pounding into the cliffs. They met here when the tide receded, leaving this secret, dark space for just the two of them while the sea masked their presence.
"I wish the sea were low like this all of the time," his lover said as he wrapped his emerald-eyed lover in his arms, the stubble on his chin scraping against the other's cheek.
"We would never get anything done if that was the case," he sighed as he let the other man hold him, yawning.
"Yes, and there is so much to do," his lover answered with a sigh, "But we can accomplish it if we are together,"
"...I...I don't know," he faltered, biting his lip.
He looked up as a hand cupped his chin, tilting his face upward. His eyes met the deep blue ones of his lover; they twinkled with a light only he possessed, shining brightly into his green ones and the only thing visible in the darkness. They calmed him, made him sleepy. Warm.
"We can do this, together," his lover repeated, "We shall rule over the Court, you and I,"
"...but how?" he murmured quietly.
His lover chuckled as he pulled him closer.
"Oh, don't worry. You will see," he promised.
He woke abruptly in a panic, flailing his limbs about and immediately wishing he hadn't. Searing pain shot up his leg, making him cry out.
If he hadn't been so distracted by the angry throbbing accosting him upon waking, he might have noticed the young man he had frightened by his outburst standing across the room.
"A-are you all right?" a soft voice asked worriedly. He pried one eye open, breathing deeply to try and keep the pain at bay. The boy was quite young, with flyaway blonde hair and wide, violet-tinged eyes. He had dropped a bundle of clothes upon the other's waking, and was hastily trying to gather them up.
"L-let me fetch my brother. Maybe...can I get you some water?" he stammered nervously.
He managed to nod stiffly, exhaling gratefully as the young man scampered out of the room. He fully opened his eyes and gradually took in his surroundings. A thatch roof was overhead, with various beads and things haphazardly hanging from it. Decorations?
He groaned, gingerly pressing a hand to his forehead. He was covered in warm blankets, lying upon something soft. But...where was he?
He looked up as loud footsteps approached and another man bounded into the room. This one was taller, maybe a bit older. But his eyes were striking-the bluest blue he had ever seen.
Well, perhaps not ever; he angrily pushed the thought aside.
"Well good morning!" the newcomer greeted with a bright smile, his blonde bangs ruffling as he rushed forward and looked down at him. He certainly wasn't soft-spoken like the former human was, loud and boisterous-he instantly decided that he hated him.
Awkward silence passed between the two of them for a time, though, emerald meeting sapphire as they looked into one another's eyes. He found himself getting lost in them, drowning in a sea the color of the sky, hardly daring to breathe. It was a strange combination of things that burst through him then-curiosity, surprise, relief, anxiety, a peculiar familiarity...he couldn't possibly name them all.
The spell was broken as the stranger began to speak.
"S-so, um...how are you feeling?" he stammered, his voice surprisingly shaky considering how loud he had just been upon entering.
He merely nodded, looking down toward his feet.
"Oh, yeah, your ankle's all messed up," the blue-eyed stranger explained, following his gaze, "I put a splint on it to keep it straight, but it's going to be a while before you can walk, though," he added glumly, sounding concerned...?
No. Don't trust. Look where trust has landed you.
He swallowed, mouthing "thank you" in the human's tongue. His voice still wasn't coming to him, managing only a wheeze rather than syllables. The language felt strange on his lips, harsh and staccato compared to his own tongue, but he was glad he knew it.
He looked up as the other young man from earlier emerged, a simple clay cup in his hands.
"Here's your water," he announced as his brother turned and took the cup from him.
"All right, you up for a drink?" the blue-eyed man asked with a smile. He nodded, allowing him to prop his head up so he could drink. He was parched, as if he had never tasted water before. He drained the cup and nodded gratefully.
"Thank you," he rasped as the stranger's hand guided his head back onto his pillow. Surprisingly gentle, for a human. Odd.
"You're welcome," the younger brother responded as he pulled up a chair to the side of the bed, "How are you feeling?"
He hesitated, pausing to give the matter some serious thought.
Anger. So much anger. Betrayal, bitter and pungent like bile-
"Tired," he stated honestly, "And my leg..."
"It should get better soon," the older one promised as he bowed slightly, "Ah, I'm sorry. I forgot-I'm Alfred. And, uh, this is my brother, Matthew," he blurted, embarrassed.
"Pleased to meet you," he responded mechanically, using the mundane customs of the humans. He knew what question was coming next, however, and carefully laid out a plausible answer.
They could not know his true name. They probably wouldn't even be able to pronounce it, and, frankly, the idea of having his birth name torn asunder by the inferior tongue of a human made his skin crawl. No, he would give his default one, one he had selected from the lore of the people of the village.
"What's your name?" Alfred asked, and he was ready to respond.
"Arthur," he answered with a nod, "I'm a merchant. I was delivering goods when I was robbed, and my cart was stolen," he stated, the familiar tale unraveling flawlessly from his lips. It wasn't an all-out lie, of course. He had sold goods to other Sidhe tribesmen in the past, and he had gotten his cart stolen on one occasion. He was convinced that one of the Puca had been involved, thinking it hilarious, but never found out for certain. It was unwise to provoke unless absolutely necessary when dealing with one of those creatures.
He felt a twinge of regret, however, when the two brothers began to fuss over him. They looked genuinely apologetic, Matthew offering his condolences while Alfred vowed revenge on his behalf. Endearing, these ones. It was no wonder his kind had taken a shine to humans. So ready to show emotion, to dive into others' problems and, ultimately, to drown in them.
Fools.
"Well, Arthur, looks like you're gonna be staying with us for a while," Alfred declared with a bright smile, "I'm making soup, actually, if you feel up to it. Be ready in a bit, all right?"
"Soup sounds...lovely," Arthur answered with a half-hearted grin. His heart hurt. Everything hurt.
"Great," Alfred stated, "Uh...can I get you anything?" he asked awkwardly, rubbing the back of his head nervously. Those blue eyes shone, twinkling.
"No, thank you," Arthur responded. His leg was killing him, but he was exhausted, "I think I will just...try to sleep,"
"That's probably a good idea," Matthew piped up with a vigorous nod, "We'll, uh, let you know when the soup's ready,"
"Thank you," Arthur said, watching the pair depart and miserably staring up at the ceiling. The decorations were roughly hewn, various carvings interlaced into the thatch with ribbons, twine, blades of braided grass, and colorful glass beads. A strange tapestry of sorts, forming an intricate swirl-like pattern if he squinted. The lovely scenery did little to distract from the gnawing in the pit of his stomach, however, as he tightly clenched his fists at his sides.
How had it come to this?
He had trusted him, believed that conniving swine when he had promised to stand by his side, to rule with him...
How had he been so stupid?
"Arthur" had always prided himself on his sharp wit, his cunning mind. How high he had ascended in the Court, acknowledged and renowned among his kin. And yet, how far he had fallen since meeting him. He laughed bitterly, a soft barking noise as he ran a quivering hand through his hair.
Heh. "Him." No name, save for titles and the false ones they had invented in case they encountered a human. How close "Arthur" had been to "Francis," yet how distant. How intimate they had been in the dark, cool dampness of their cave, bodies melding together beneath the turbulent crashing of the surf...
He frowned, drawing a shuddering breath as the panging in his heart drowned out the blazing pulse from his ankle. He didn't even need to look to know what had become of it. It was customary for exiles to be maimed temporarily upon banishment. A warning, a dark parting gift:
"You can't run from us,"
He bit his lip, angry at himself. What a fool he was. An exiled fool, to boot. He didn't even want to look at his hand, knowing what would be there. The pain there had been drowned out by that of his ankle, but there was no mistaking what revelation awaited him.
Drawing a deep breath, he slowly willed his hands in front of him and turned them over. An angry red welt on the front of his right hand seethed at him, pulsing a bright white on the raised skin in-time with the beating of his heart. A crest, painstakingly intricate, was seared into his flesh. A brand, a mark distinguishing him as a traitor.
He sighed, grateful for the one small blessing that the humans were unable to see nor comprehend the meaning behind such a hateful thing. That would have been difficult to explain away with his tale about being robbed. He swallowed, gingerly placing his arms on either side of his body as he stared at the ceiling. The little baubles twinkled at him, tiny stars in the thatch sky.
How had it come to this?
He didn't consider himself worthy of such a fate. He hadn't actually done anything yet. And that traitorous coward, throwing him to the wolves as he no doubt ascended higher into the favor of the Queen-Arthur seethed, setting his jaw stubbornly as heat built in his eyes. Tears spilled silently down his cheeks, hitting the soft pillow beneath his head with soft plops. How could Francis have done this to him? After all they had...?
"Imbecile," he hissed bitterly as he reached up and wiped the tears from his face. Indeed he was. Banished, lame, alone, and dependent upon the care of two foolish humans. He had never felt so pathetic in his entire life.
And yet...
He closed his eyes, imagining the sparkling blue eyes of his former lover twinkling as he smiled, and how that light would be abruptly snuffed out by Arthur's own hand.
Yes.
Yes, there was still time for him to pay Francis back a thousand fold for what he had done, he reasoned with a wicked smirk.
He need only wait for the right time, after he had healed.
Then, all would be avenged.
He smiled as he slipped into a shallow slumber, visions of him stalking his blue-eyed prey in the black night glimmering in his mind's eye.
Notes: The Fair Folk cannot tell an all-out lie. They can skirt around the truth or twist it, but cannot state something that is false. The Puca is a creature that can take on many forms, a common one being a black horse. They can wreak havoc and even kill humans, but are pranksters in most accounts I've seen. They are revered in many regions and are given a share of the crops in the field after the harvest to placate them.
