She had to be insane to be standing here like this, practically toeing the line between sanity and death's door, but there it was. After all, hadn't Demon told her that mortals that spent too much time in Faery eventually went loco? Only made sense to apply to her, too, since she was half human, despite the fact that Demon had also made sure to educate her on the issue that her human nature wouldn't suffer at all in Faery thanks to her fey parentage. Still, Catherine was more prone to believing she was suffering the madness incurred by Faery in mortals than to think she was still perfectly sane to be standing at the final three inches before Winter Territory, staring out over the vast expanse of snow while, behind her, the endless stretch of Summer's territory spread away into the south, in full bloom overflowing with life. There was no such brilliance or vigor in Winter, save the sparkle of diamond-like snow just a scant foot from her toes, and the crushing silence that she was becoming so familiar with inside of the territory.
Somehow, the silence that reached her, even from the little distance off that she was, was oddly comforting, and she stood there, unmoving, practically reveling in that silence as she stared ahead of her into the white and black landscape ahead of her. It was hard to imagine that just a week and some ago, this place had been her worst nightmare, but it had been for a good reason that she'd dreaded the very mention of Tir Na Nog. Not many people would take kindly to being imprisoned in a frigid wasteland by a vindictive prince who took sick pleasure in tormenting half breeds like her. But she also had to consider that she'd returned before to Tir Na Nog, even knowing that Rowan, the second prince of the Unseelie Court, could still easily locate and trap her again. In her mind, she hadn't cared whether he found her or not, because searching for her father—her real father, the Cait Sith that had been with her mother—was paramount over anything else that might happen.
Of course, Demon hadn't been so keen on the idea of returning to Winter Territory so carelessly after their first narrow escape from the Unseelie Court, but he hadn't argued with her either, and had begrudgingly returned. That time, they'd been caught as well, though fortunately not by Rowan, but his elder brother, the heir to the Unseelie Throne, Prince Sage. She hadn't been conscious for most of what had transpired between Demon and the Prince before they'd been taken back to the castle, given she'd fallen a good twenty feet out of a tree and hadn't had the time or ability to make herself immaterial like Demon could. The result: a broken ankle, and a fortnight spent in the Unseelie Court, hidden away in the Prince's private quarters safe from harm in exchange for a couple of favor's from Demon, and the vow that once they left Sage would never lay eyes on them again in Winter.
A chilly breeze swept across the snowy lands in front of Catherine, blowing straight into Summer, but before the heat of the opposing territory could keep it from progressing farther it had reached Catherine, who shivered and drew her borrowed cloak a little more tightly around her. She'd forgotten just how cool Winter's climate could be, even from a distance. Of course, it was nothing on the uncomfortable chill she seemed to keep getting the longer she stood there, even without the wind blowing over her harshly. No, this more insistent chill seemed more out of a lurking discomfort than any physical distress.
She had been standing there on the border for quite some time, and the entire time she had felt like she was being watched. Though whenever she'd cared to glance around she hadn't discovered anything of severe consequence or immediate danger. Occasionally, she'd see the brief flicker of a dryad shifting in her tree, but not many other fey made a habit of appearing in the between space between the Summer and Winter territories. Still, she couldn't shake the feeling that she was being carefully observed, and in the back of her mind she couldn't help but wonder if perhaps it wasn't a guard from the Unseelie Court, stationed at the border to keep intruders out. Summer didn't have such sentinels, seeing as it would be a complete waste of manpower, and no one was really foolish enough to think of waging a boundary war in the peaceful neutral territory between the two courts.
But Winter had always been a bit stingier about 'mine' versus 'yours' and Catherine wouldn't put it past the Ice Queen, Mab, to station a guard or two at the entrance to her domain. Perhaps an ice troll just to deter the foolhardy. Catherine smiled slightly at the thought of an enormous, blue skinned fey with broad shoulders holding a club, watching her mutely from the other side of the trees, just waiting for her to take a step across so he could play "Whack-a-Cait" with her. Then she considered how foolish an idea that was. Mab might worry for the trustworthiness of the Summer court, but her territory's entrance was so harsh that any Summer fey foolish enough to cross into wouldn't get much farther than a few yards before they were forced to turn back. So, Catherine mused to herself, her jade eyes scanning the tree line thoughtfully, if it wasn't a personal guard sent to bar the way, who—or what—was watching her?
Sure, she could try convincing herself that she wasn't, in fact, being watched at all, and was just suffering a bad case of paranoia, but Demon had taught her many things in her time in Nevernever, and she'd learned a few things on her own as well. And one of those lessons had been 'If you feel like someone is watching you, they are'. If you wanted to get through Faery in one piece, you never summed anything up to coincidence, and Catherine had never been one for simple coincidences in the first place. Her mother had made very sure to teach her never to take anything for granted, and Catherine was grateful for the advice now.
As she peered carefully through a large gap in the nearby trees ahead of her, seeing snow beginning to fall in Winter's territory though it never entered into Summer, she thought she saw an unusual shape looming near one of the larger oak trees that she hadn't been aware of before, standing completely motionless, but she sensed something was off about it. Narrowing her eyes, trying to decipher more out of the shape than she was getting with her vision, with her concentration so riveted on that strange shape in the shadows, she almost missed the telltale crackling of snow under foot, though it was so quiet it could have been the snow falling from a tree limb to the ground.
She turned abruptly at the noise, however, her fey ears pricking up at the disturbance as her vision raked the trees nearest to her, and immediately felt her stomach jolt as she saw deliberate movement behind one of the nearest covering of foliage. Taking a cautious step back, she jolted again when, out of the corner of her eye, the odd shape near the other trees she'd just noticed shifted menacingly as well.
It was alive…
For some reason, the revelation didn't surprise her or scare her as much as it should have, and rather than take off at a mad dash back into the deeper, safer territory of Summer, Catherine merely took a couple wary steps backwards as the two shapes converged on her from opposing sides, still cloaked in shadow. Her jade eyes flickered between them, making sure neither one would come at her faster than the other, or that while she was distracted with one, the remaining would launch a blindsided attack.
But neither figure seemed intent on attacking her, at least not yet, and simply moved closer, following the line of trees, staying hidden, but being deliberately open about their movements, as though to ensure her that they were, indeed, making movements towards her and they weren't ignorant to the fact that she was there. Of course, she wouldn't have expected them to act as though she weren't there. A supposed Summer fey staring blankly into Winter territory for the better part of a couple hours was bound to get attention eventually, even if she did no more than sit and stare. Insanity, she had learned, was one thing that both humans and faeries alike frowned upon, shockingly. And given she'd spent the better part of her day that didn't include walking here gazing vaguely into enemy territory, it only stood to reason that she must suffer a mental affliction of some kind.
So she stood and waited in patient silence for the Winter's guardians to come confront her. She didn't know exactly what they would say, or how she would respond, if they said anything at all, but she'd clear that hurdle when she came up to it.
Her eyes continued to flick back and forth restlessly between the two guardians, but as they drew nearer, a voice finally issued from the figure approaching from her right—the one who had been first to move—and spoke,
"You know, when I made you vow never to let me see you in Winter again, I never thought you would use such a blatant loophole if you ever come back. I suppose I should give more credit and consideration to the half human daughter of a Cait Sith."
From the moment the voice had spoken, Catherine had turned into her own personal ice sculpture, her heart even going so far as to stop beating for several seconds before kicking into total overdrive as she lifted her wide eyed gaze to lock with a pair of frosty green eyes that looked back at her from the shadows. A moment later, shaking snow from his black cloaked shoulders as he stepped from beneath the shelter of the Winter trees, Prince Sage loomed over her, his expression unfathomable, with his icy emerald eyes narrowed in silent contemplation as he gazed down at her upturned face.
Catherine stared back up at the Winter prince, not daring to move or speak, and felt her throat constrict as he towered over her, as terrifying and beautiful as she remembered, until a low growl from her left had her turning her head in time to see the massive gray wolf, Bane, loping out into the open as well, amber eyes trained on her face. He bared his teeth slightly in a quiet snarl, but did nothing more than come to stand at his master's side, eyeing her. Thoughtlessly, Sage dropped a hand onto his wolf's head and scratched at the animal's ears, though his gaze remained immovably fixed on her.
In the meantime, Catherine's heart was thudding rapidly against her ribcage, and she felt very much out of breath just staring up in a mixture of fear and shock at the Winter Prince, who she had never imagined in her life she would ever see again. At least, not in circumstances like this. After all, he'd made her vow that he would never see her in Winter again, and though wasn't technically within Winter's boundaries, she sure as hell was close enough that he might overlook the slight difference and just lop off her head and be done with it. Faeries took their promises and oaths deadly seriously, and she was on the brink of breaking her own oath, though she suspected that Sage wouldn't be all that surprised if she ended up being in contempt of her oath considering her half human heritage. No one in Faery made a habit of trusting half-breeds, after all, and the Winter Prince—though a little less caustic about the issue of hybrids—was not any less Faery, and therefore just as likely to mistrust her.
"So," Sage said quietly, his low voice whimsical and at once cool as he addressed her, "Should I even ask why you happen to have spent the last few hours standing on the border between the courts?"
Catherine felt a pang at his question, followed by a brief spark of irritation as she realized that by asking the question, he had basically admitted to the fact that he had either had someone watching her for the past few hours—more than likely Bane—or that he himself had been standing there just as long or longer watching her watch his territory. She felt an insane need at that moment to question him on whether or not he'd spent all of his time watching her, then thought better of it as she became poignantly aware of the fact they were in the middle of the wyldwood between Summer and Winter with absolutely no witnesses—save a few reclusive dryads—if he decided to run her through or behead her.
So rather than indulge her childish urge to call him out and risk his temper, she looked up as steadily as she could into his eyes, which reminded her unerringly of frost coated emeralds, and shrugged delicately.
"I had nothing else to do today," she said in a subdued voice. "It was either this or wait around in the healer's tavern all day waiting for Demon to wake up."
"The Cait Sith?" Sage's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "Has he fallen ill or been injured?"
"Injured," she admitted, not sure whether she should be telling him this or not. "Nothing too horrible, just enough to make him lazier than usual, and overly crabby, too."
She flashed a small smile at Sage, but felt no amusement as she said it, and the prince did not return the smile, but simply stood there and quietly murmured, "I see."
Silence fell over them again, only broken once by the sound of Bane giving a rasping cough to which Sage patted his familiar's head and continued to eye Catherine with a skeptical eye.
She, in turn, stood silently in front of him, growing increasingly uncomfortable with the situation, but for some reason not having the will to up and leave. It would have been the easier thing to do, most certainly, but she just couldn't seem to find it in herself to bid the prince a respectful farewell and be on her way. So she continued to stand quietly, glancing cautiously between the ground and Sage's vibrant eyes, though never being able to hold his speculative gaze for much longer than a few seconds before being forced to take greater notice in the dirt and leaf debris at her feet, wishing that Sage would make up his own mind whether he would leave or say something else to her. The silence was really starting to get to her.
"You look ill," the Winter prince stated calmly after another minute of suffocating quiet.
"I feel fine," she said automatically, then winced as she sensed the sidhe grow slightly stiller than before. "Sorry," she mumbled.
"No, you have not been offensive," he said, his eyes narrowing slightly. "And though I do not doubt your words that you feel physically fit your eyes tell a different story…"
She had to keep herself from foolishly lifting her hands to check for any physical abnormalities on her eyes as he said it, and instead glanced up at him once more from under her lashes to see him gazing intensely back.
"You have not been sleeping well," he murmured. "You have dark circles under your eyes."
Ah, so that was it, she thought dully. She hadn't been sleeping well, to be perfectly honest, and, mentally, she was starting to wear down. She was used to a solid eight hours or more of sleep a night, and up until a week and some ago she hadn't been struggling to fulfill that quota, even during her imprisonment in Tir Na Nog. But since leaving Winter for the last time, she had barely managed to get more than a couple of hours of shut eye a night, and that was if she was lucky. Most nights in the past week had been entirely sleepless and she often had to take breaks during the day to keep herself running.
Demon, of course, had noticed this, which had been part of the reason he'd ended up injured in the first place during their confrontation with the red caps, and was probably the other reason the Cait Sith had all but ordered that they spend a good few days at the healer's. He'd wanted her to get rest as well, but she hadn't faired very well on that. The healer had even gone so far as to mix many numerous drafts of potion, but Catherine had never drunken any of them; waiting until the aged goblin had left the room before surreptitiously pouring whatever contents were in her glass into the nearest disposable area she could find. As a result, she'd been suffering quite a bit on account of her now record-breaking seven days without sleep.
She shrugged, feeling her eyes grow heavier all of a sudden without really knowing why.
"It hasn't been the most relaxing week," she mumbled to Sage, not really sure if he cared to know why she was practically dead on her feet or not.
"Have you taken a draft to help you sleep?" he asked. "I would have thought your guide, as concerned with your wellbeing as he is, would have seen to it that you were well taken care of, especially if you are residing at a healer's residence while he recovers."
"To be honest, I've kind of been blowing him off on that issue," she confessed wryly, "Because he's tried to get the healer to get me to drink some of the things she cooks up, but I always end up dumping out whatever she's made and then acting like I took it, though I'm sure she knows better and is just being deliberately ignorant about it."
"You are lucky she hasn't forced poppy seeds down your throat if that's the case," Sage said, sounding slightly amused. "Healers take the care of their patients very seriously, regardless of the ailment. If she is turning a blind eye to the fact you are shunning her treatment, she is both exceptionally patient with you and not willing to force you to accept whatever would benefit your health, or she really is that senile. Though I feel it must be more the former than the latter."
"You're probably right," sighed Catherine, nodding her head tiredly in agreement. She felt suddenly super exhausted, and actually glanced around wearily for a place to sit, immediately locating a nearby stump and setting herself down on it with a low groan. "And it isn't that I don't appreciate her efforts and all that, but…I don't know…I guess I just didn't feel like taking something artificial to help me do something natural."
"Understandable," murmured the prince with a small nod, his expression thoughtful as he watched her hunch over on the stump with her elbows propped up on her knees to support her, "Though foolish. You are visibly wilting with the lack of sleep… When was the last time you managed to sleep a healthy amount?"
"What would be a healthy amount?" she asked.
"Whatever is your regular span of sleep," he answered. "Everyone is different."
"My norm is about eight hours a night or more," she mumbled, letting her heavy eyelids drift shut and resting her forehead against her palm.
"Then when was the last time you managed to sleep that long or longer?"
Catherine tried to think back, absentmindedly wondering why she even felt obliged to answer the prince in the first place, but when both inquiries—such as the last time she'd gotten a wink of sleep, and why she felt like answering him—turned up empty, she shook her head in defeat.
"I don't know," she muttered. "Maybe a week…"
"Hmm…" Sage's tone was thoughtful. "Have you started hallucinating yet?"
"Depends," she said with a small scoff, "Are you real?"
God, she was tired…she felt like passing out right there, but couldn't seem to just let the tiredness overtake her; though she felt she should be at least a little grateful that she was physically tired at all. She hadn't felt this ready to clock out in almost a week.
"This is no laughing matter, human," Sage said sternly. "Even for a faery, mental health deteriorates rapidly if one doesn't manage to rest as they should. If you end up losing sanity for lack of sleep, I'm sure your guide will not be the only one suffering the ill effects of it."
"Then I'll take something when I get back to the healer's," Catherine sighed, lowering her head further until it was resting on her knees.
"You won't make it back in this condition," the prince said, and with a slight crackling of dead leaves he stepped forward to crouch in front of her. "You would undoubtedly collapse before making it back to the healer, and with no one to watch over you, you'd likely become victim to whatever fey happened across you. Satyrs, red caps, whichever the case may be."
"Joy," she said tiredly. "So, what do you recommend, then, if I can't muster the strength to go back on my own? I suppose you wouldn't care much to escort me."
She said it jokingly, but when Sage didn't answer she forced her head up—though it felt equivalent to lifting a ton of bricks on her neck—to look groggily up at him to find him contemplating in silence as he crouched in front of her.
"I was kidding," she said, almost desperately. She really didn't want the prince near her, let alone taking her back through Summer to the healer's.
"I know you were," Sage told her, and flashed a wry smile. "You are right that I have no intention of escorting you back to the Cait Sith and the healer. It's pathetic you can't do it on your own."
"So, just leave me here then until I can walk?" she prompted him.
Half of her wished he would leave, just because she was feeling more than vulnerable being in this no-man's land between Summer and Winter with him, but the other half of her didn't really want to be left entirely alone here for however long it took to her gather up her strength to head back to the healer's. Especially when she already felt like she might never walk again. Besides, she hadn't told him the true reason she'd been standing at the border of Summer and Winter, and the reason that her second half didn't want him to leave…
She also hadn't told him something else; the entire reason she hadn't been able to sleep in a week, though that was because she, herself, wasn't entirely sold on her explanation for why she couldn't seem to shut her eyes and doze for more than an hour on any given night. She couldn't confirm that being away from him was the whole reason she was struggling in the first place, and until such a time as she did manage to confirm or deny that, she wasn't about to let him onto it. She hadn't even let Demon in on her suspicions, so Sage would be the absolute last person she would tell if such a thing ever happened to come up.
In the mean time, while she was contemplating the bad and worse things going on her head, Sage continued to sit on the balls of his feet, watching her thoughtfully through meditative emerald eyes, until something in his expression seemed to finalize and he heaved a deep sigh, rising to his towering height over her and folding his arms over his chest.
"How far do you think you can manage to walk as of now, human?" he asked her in his calm voice.
Pulled from her stupor, Catherine gave a weak shrug. "I can't really judge distance, but I could estimate I'd stay up for a few minutes, at least," she guessed. "Why?"
"Come with me," was the answer she got, followed by the soft crunch of snow as Sage stepped back into his territory.
Forcing herself up into a sitting position again, she narrowed her eyes in confusion to see the Winter prince waiting patiently for her just beyond the tree line, and frowned when he arched an eyebrow, clearly expecting her to follow.
"Where are we going?" she asked, even as she planted her hands on her knees and tried to lever herself into standing. Her knees were wobbly, but thankfully didn't go out from under her as she finally got her bearings and took a tentative step towards Sage.
"It doesn't matter, so long as you can make it for a few minutes," he said shortly, beckoning idly with a hand.
His reluctance to answer her had her pausing just before she would have set her foot onto the icy ground in Winter's territory, and she gave him a sharp look of mistrust.
He sighed wearily, seeing the problem, and explained, "It is a Lodge of mine, just inside Unseelie's boundaries. I have herbs there that will be suitable for healing you."
"In Winter territory?" She really didn't like that idea.
"What is the problem now?" he asked, sounding a slight less patient as she dawdled uncertainly just between lands.
"My vow was that you never saw me in Winter Territory again," she reminded him. "I don't see it as very wise to go breaking that vow for a few herbs, no matter how helpful they might be."
For the first time in her memory, Sage looked so completely exasperated that, had she been more herself, she might have laughed.
"You humans," he muttered, taking one long stride back towards her until they were almost toe to toe with him standing in snow while she lingered in the leaves of Summer. "But I will give you acknowledgment for your consideration of your vow to me. But for now it is inconsequential."
"You're putting a void on my oath to you?" she asked incredulously, staring wide eyed up at him.
"For the moment," he agreed, and waved a hand for her to step through the trees onto his side of the divide, but she held her ground, still not completely sold.
"And is there a catch for this?" she inquired; eyeing the powdery snow at her feet like it might leap up and take her leg off if she jumped the gun prematurely.
"No," said Sage, again with that small bite of impatience in his voice. "Now, before I change my mind, would you care to follow me to the Lodge before the sleep deprivation robs you of even more reason or I am forced to drag you there because you lost the ability to keep standing?"
Surprised by his uncharacteristic urgency, Catherine gave the Winter prince an appraising look, which he noticed despite the fact he'd been glancing over his shoulder a moment before, and with a small utterance the sidhe reached forward and seized her by the hand, dragging her clean over the border into Winter territory.
"H-hey!" she stammered, trying to shake him off to no avail, especially when a large weight pushed forcefully on her from behind as Bane urged her forward. "I didn't agree to this!"
"You didn't have to," Sage told her in a low mutter, still pulling her along with one long fingered hand shackling her wrist, "I'm writing this off as temporary insanity and you not knowing what is good for you as a result."
"Okay, fine, but could you stop dragging me?" she asked, feeling her fatigue welling up faster than she could have imagined as she was forced to keep swift pace with the Prince, threatening to knock her down.
The prince glanced at her briefly, then around at their blindingly white surroundings, before slowing his steps and loosening his grip on her wrist, but not completely releasing her.
"We need to hurry," he murmured urgently when she might have paused to catch her breath.
"W-what?" she gasped, "Why?"
"Because there is a border patrol coming up and I don't want them to spot us," he said, beginning to pull her again while Bane scanned the area behind them.
"Will it matter if they can follow our tracks?" she pointed out, even as she tried to quicken her pace over the crunching snow to keep up with Sage.
"There aren't any tracks to follow," the prince replied, catching her off guard.
She was tempted to look back behind them just to confirm his words, but suspected that she would either be told to quit dawdling and keep walking, or, more than likely, trip over her own leaden feet and fall face first into the bitingly cold snow. So she kept her eyes straight forward and narrowed against the sudden wind blowing right into their faces as the hurried along through the darkened interior of the Winter forest towards whatever lodge lay waiting for them. She listened out for the sound of a patrol as they continued along, but when she wasn't able to hear more than the whistling of the wind through the trees and the quiet thumping of their feet through the snow she gave up. She guessed it would be better if she didn't hear the patrol, and that Sage had been alert enough to have detected his mother's men before they managed to get within sighting range of her and the prince.
They went a little bit farther, this time in silence as she didn't have the breath to ask any more questions and she doubted that Sage would have answered them anyway. And with every step, Catherine felt her body spiraling further and further into exhaustion, and was just about to give up and collapse in the snow when Sage came to an abrupt halt in the center of an unremarkable clearing, looking around carefully as though searching for something—whether it be spies or something else. Catherine, taking the moment to catch her breath, doubled over slightly with her free hand braced on her knees and took deep gulps of air, coughing occasionally as the bitter winter air tickled her throat.
"Are you alright?" Sage asked in what sounded like concern, looking down at her with narrowed eyes.
"Fine," she rasped, even as her whole body shook with the effort of just standing up, and she coughed harshly. "It's cold…"
She missed the brief smirk that curved Sage's lips as he muttered,
"It is Winter Territory after all."
"I hadn't noticed," she said wearily, not lifting her head.
She tried to pull her hand—which was still manacled by Sage's fingers—up to rub at her nose, which was pink and burned with the cold, but he didn't relinquish his hold, and she felt a vaguely familiar burning begin to take place under her skin in the place where he was touching her.
"Could I have my arm back?" she asked.
"In a moment," he said distractedly, and when she turned her head to peer up at him, it was to see the prince looking at a particularly large tree to his left with a thoughtful expression. She was about to ask him what was so fascinating about the gigantic woodwork when he reached out with his hand and ran his index finger down a groove in the bark that almost looked like it had been cut there.
For a split second, absolutely nothing happened, then, right before her amazed eyes, the glowing outline of a door appeared in the wood, looking very much like it was being illuminated from the inside and shining outward, and as she stared with her mouth slightly agape Sage reached forward again and gave the frame a light push, causing it to open into the trunk of the tree. Catherine immediately caught the aroma of burning incense, mixed with something like peppermint, and glimpsed the inside of a spacious room covered in dark fur rugs and throws, and scattered with comfortable looking armchairs and cushions before Sage stepped in front of her, still clutching her wrist, and pulled her gently forward into the trunk of the tree. Bane glanced back behind them, checking once more for potential threats and followers, then huffed quietly and stepped over the threshold as well. The hidden door swung closed and the wooden bolts clicked into place with a rather ominous finality. The edges of the door shone with light once more, then went dim, leaving only an elaborate myriad of carvings on an otherwise blank wooden wall where the door had once stood.
Catherine stared back at it in amazement, trying to make out the lines in the wood that had made the door's shape, but could decipher nothing from the carvings and seamless panel. The door was completely hidden from view, and she felt a sinking in the pit of her stomach to realize that Sage was probably the only one in the whole wyldwood who could open it again, from either the inside or the outside. Which meant for the time being she was now trapped inside a gigantic tree hideout with the eldest Winter prince.
Speaking of whom, the sidhe had finally released her wrist from his grip, though the unusual burning she was starting to associate with him touching her didn't fade, and she rubbed agitatedly at her skin, trying to stifle it with no real victory. While she did that, Sage made his way across the wide room to an area like a makeshift kitchen, minus the oven, microwave and fridge, and began rifling though cupboards stocked full of vials and jars of herbs. Bane padded up to his master, whining softly, and Sage murmured something Catherine couldn't hear so the wolf went off into one of the connected rooms to return a few moments later with a small leather pouch, which Sage rested from him with another low murmur and a ruffle of the canine's ears.
"Human," he said then, addressing Catherine, who had been staring around her in rapt fascination at the lodge. "Come here."
Catherine shot him a look that he missed as he was pouring out small amounts of some violet looking herb from the pouch he was holding. The guy couldn't even say 'please'? Then again, she already owed him a huge amount just because he'd not only put her oath on a temporary hold but also seemed to be trying to treat her insomnia in his own private lodge. She suspected not even his brothers knew where this place was, and yet he'd so easily brought her here without any fuss about it. Withholding a sigh, she made her careful way across the room towards Sage, feeling her legs growing weak again the closer she got, though she highly suspected that was because her momentary shock of discovering Sage's lodge was wearing off and leaving her high and dry.
"Sit," the prince commanded without looking up from mixing several herbs into a bowl, gesturing with the ivory pestle in his hand towards a small stool just to the side of the counter he was working at.
Rolling her eyes at his superiority, she gingerly perched herself on the stool and watched him tiredly as he continued to grind herbs and seeds together in the bowl, working efficiently until a fine, brownish powder sat in the bottom. He didn't speak to her, and she was far too tired to speak either, so she sat in silence, her eyes roaming over the cabin's interior while the sweet smell of incense filled the air. Over in a corner, she spotted a small bowl with a lit candle beneath it; it was filled with a glittering turquoise liquid that sent a thin vapor into the air, dispersing the smell of peppermint into the room so she inhaled deeply to take the essence of it into her lungs and feeling lulled.
Bane had curled himself up contentedly on one of the nearby furs on the wooden floor, though his amber eyes remained fixed on his master and Catherine. Behind the massive gray wolf, a fire burned cheerfully in the hearth, though rather than orange and red, the flames of the embers were a bright, sapphire blue, and Catherine watched with drowsy interest as they danced and snapped, casting shadows across the room, along with a subtle blue glow.
"So," Sage murmured suddenly, tipping the contents of the bowl into a beaker of vibrantly green liquid, "Why did you come back here?"
"Huh?" She turned to him with a bemused look on her face.
He glanced up at her as he began to stir the mixture vigorously, then back down at his work and said, "You came back to the edge of Tir Na Nog for a reason, and I'm having difficulty believing it was out of sheer boredom waiting for your guide to better himself. So what's the real reason?"
"Oh…um…" Catherine felt her heart give a rather violent thud against her ribcage, winding her a little as she turned her face away from Sage. "I don't know…I guess I just kind of wandered here and then…then remembered I wasn't supposed to let you see me in your territory so didn't go any farther."
Icy green eyes lifted to assess her face, but she didn't meet Sage's probing gaze, and instead feigned interest in another elaborate carving of a grand tree that marked the wall directly opposite her. She could feel her cheeks burning a little, though not from the cold, and hoped that the prince mistook the rosiness of her face as an aftereffect of being in the snow. He seemed not to notice a thing, and dropped his eyes back to the beaker and stirrer in his hand.
"I see," he murmured, and she felt a flicker of annoyance. He seemed to enjoy saying that, and though she didn't have a real reason why it bugged her that he did, it did.
As she continued to sit rather slumped over on the stool beside Sage, she felt herself growing inevitably tired again, and lifted a hand to pinch the bridge of her nose, breathing a deep sigh and closing her eyes.
"You're tired," the prince said, and she heard the soft clink of the beaker as he set it down. "I'll show you to the bedroom."
That got her attention immediately, and she was sitting straight up, staring into Sage's calm emerald gaze with her eyes stretched very wide.
"Say what?" she asked, a little hoarsely.
"The bedroom," he repeated patiently, inclining his head towards one of the many rooms that connected to the main area of the lodge in which they stood. "You need to sleep."
"Not here, I don't," she said immediately, shaking her head, still stricken. "I thought you were giving me something to help me make it back to the healer's without collapsing."
"I am," he sighed, rolling his eyes at the ceiling. "It will help you sleep and then you can return to the healer's in the morning after you've gotten some strength back. You didn't think I meant some kind of energy booster to help you back, did you? That would only worsen your condition."
Actually, she had been hoping that was exactly what he meant, but now she realized how foolish that had been to hope for such a thing. Sage was as reasonable as the healer she'd been stuck with for the past couple days, and the elderly goblin had made certain Catherine understood the only cure for her current condition was deep, undisturbed sleep. Apparently Sage was echoing those sentiments, just without actually saying them. But, still, Catherine hadn't expected to be sleeping here in his private lodge, even if he didn't stay here. Something just seemed unsettling about the idea of even distantly sharing the same general living space as Sage. True, she'd spent the better part of a month in his actual bedroom back in the Unseelie Palace, but that had been a bit different. He had relocated himself to a completely separate part of the castle for her entire stay unless coming to check up on her progress and to make deals with Demon and herself about the terms of their stay. This would be entirely different. The lodge might be large, but every room was connected to the main one, and though she felt sure there was another bedroom located somewhere, it would be harder to feel secluded or cut off from Sage even if he chose to occupy a separate room.
But that wasn't the only reason she didn't want to spend the night in the same vicinity as the prince… For the moment, though, she was trying not to pay too much mind to her other reasons…
"I just," she swallowed hard, feeling her throat constrict slightly with the effort, and glanced frantically around the room, as though looking for a possible escape as Sage waited patiently at her side. She noticed the potion on the counter that he'd previously been stirring had turned to a deep mauve color and was steadily darkening to crimson, looking remarkably like blood. "I just didn't think you'd want me in here…"
Sage made a small noise that sounded resigned and shook his head.
"That is beside the point," he said. "The matter at hand is that you are ill and need treatment. You are too far away from the healer to make it back in a decent state—and how you managed to get all the way out here is a marvel, really—and so as a substitute I will treat you here and you can return tomorrow with enough strength that then she can continue to treat you while you and your guide recover."
Catherine mumbled incoherently, causing Sage's ebony brows to rise inquisitively.
"Would you rather I toss you out in the snow?" the prince asked coolly, to which she shook her head. "I thought not. Now, if you'll follow me, I'll show you to the bedroom."
And with that said he swept around her, angling towards one of the nearest doors to the kitchen area, leaving Catherine to slip awkwardly off of her stool and follow him, trying not to trip over her feet as exhaustion bore down on her mercilessly. Sage opened the door leading into the room, then stepped aside to let her in first before allowing himself in. The room was pitch black as Catherine entered it, but her eyes adjusted almost immediately and she could see almost perfectly in the darkness thanks to her Cait Sith heritage kicking in. She could make out the outline of a grand bed against the far wall from her, adorned in numerous pillows and fur blankets. On either side of the large center piece, two nightstands stood like sentinels, each with an icy candelabra standing atop them. A crystal adorned mirror hung on the wall immediately to the right of the bed, and across from that a massive wardrobe loomed in the darkness.
Sage snapped his fingers and sapphire flames burst to life in the fireplace on the wall opposite the bed, nearly blinding Catherine, who hissed a little and cinched her eyes shut to allow them relief from the sudden light. Peeking through her lashes when she'd felt it was safe to look, she located Sage standing at the side of the bed, bending to light the candelabras with the same flickering blue fire, which issued from his fingers as he murmured softly in a language she didn't understand, but felt she had heard before.
"What language is that?" she asked softly as Sage straightened and turned back to her.
He cocked an eyebrow. "Fey," he said simply.
"Oh," she murmured, and looked away, staring into the now roaring sapphire flames in the grate.
"You do not understand the language." It wasn't a question.
"No," she admitted, slightly ashamed, and ducked her head. "Considering I've spent the past eighteen—almost nineteen—years of my life believing I was human, it never really came up with my mom."
"I see." There it was again. That two worded phrase she was beginning to detest so much.
Avoiding looking at the prince for fear that her expression might give away her brief annoyance, she continued to gaze sightlessly into the flickering blue flames until she saw movement immediately in her peripheral vision and turned her head to see that Sage had ended up right beside her without making a sound as he moved from the end of the room to her. Briefly, her eyes flicked up to his, wide and alarmed, and she felt heat creep up her neck to see his icy green eyes contemplating her from his towering height. She'd thought over it before, about just how tall he was, and had guessed a solid six feet, but looking up at him now from her feeble vantage point of Five-foot-three, she was starting to think she'd been way off. He looked so much taller than just six feet…but maybe it was because he was so intimidating that it only made him seem bigger. Either way, she felt insignificant standing there before him, and lowered her eyes quickly before she could lose her nerve anymore, finding more interest in the sodden toes of her Converse.
"You should change," the Winter sidhe stated then, seeming to notice the dampness of her clothes as well, and gestured to the wardrobe. "There are clothes in there that should fit you well enough. Just hang your other clothes near the fire to dry. You weren't in the cold long, but it was enough. Being as weak as you are, it would be only too easy for you to catch a chill."
She winced at his blunt observation of her vulnerability, but didn't comment and let him continue speaking.
"I will be back shortly with the medicine. It will make you sleepy almost immediately, so it would be better if you were already laying down when I bring it."
"Sure," she mumbled, biting down on her lip to keep from saying anything rude, and also to keep herself awake enough to remain standing. She felt herself growing more and more exhausted with every passing second, and just the thought of climbing into the large, inviting looking bed had made her knees threaten to give out on her.
Sage didn't say anything more as he swept out of the room, closing the door firmly behind him, and Catherine let out a huge breath of relief to finally be by herself again. Not even an hour spent in the prince's company and she was feeling all set to fall on her face, though that could just as easily have been that a week without proper sleep was finally catching up to her, and she hurried to change before the weakness could completely do her in. Shuffling to the wardrobe, already shrugging out of her cloak and sweater and shivering slightly as the coolness of the room circled her, she pulled open one of the enormous wardrobe doors and looked inside. There were numerous clothes hanging at the ready inside, many of them pitch black and shapeless, and others pure white and just as unremarkable. Not sure what to pick, she settled for pulling out the smallest tunic and slacks she could find, since everything else seemed made for someone more of Sage's build, and after shedding her chilly and slightly damp t-shirt and jeans slipped into the borrowed clothes. Mercifully, they fit, and though slightly cool as well were much warmer than her own clothes had been.
No sooner had she slipped into the new garments and carefully laid out her snow dampened cloths by the roaring fire, which wasn't quite as hot as a regular fire would be, but was at least warm enough to start drying her clothes, there came a light rapping at the door, alerting her to Sage's return.
"Come in," she called softly, already slipping beneath the coverlets of the enormous bed, her body becoming instantly heavy as she sank into the plush mattress and pillows.
The door to the room swung open, and Sage's frame filled the entire doorway for a moment before he stepped over the threshold, carrying an intricate crystal glass in his hand, which was filled with some shimmering midnight blue liquid that swirled with flecks of silver and black. A tantalizing aroma drifted over to her as the prince approached her, and as she inhaled she was reminded of a cool summer night, and there again was the hint of peppermint that seemed typical of the lodge. As Sage came to stand by the bed beside her, offering her the glass, she realized the smell was coming from the dark blue potion inside it.
"What is it?" she asked, even as she carefully took the glass from him.
"Nightshade," he answered quietly, watching her through his emerald eyes as she lifted the class and tentatively sniffed at it. "I added poppy to it as well, just to make it a little stronger, though it's half the dosage for a normal faery."
"Oh?" She glanced at him, and caught a glimmer of amusement in his gaze.
"You're aware nightshade is poisonous to humans?" he inquired, lifting an eyebrow and folding his arms over his chest.
"Yes," she said cautiously, giving him a skeptical look.
"You're half human," he informed her, as though it was news to her. "I wasn't about to risk your death by giving you a regular dose of something that is naturally lethal to your kind."
"Oh," she mumbled, glancing down at the concoction in her hands with a new sense of unease. "Right…"
"Drink it," he sighed, sounding resigned. "I've made sure it won't kill you."
Somehow, she trusted him at his word, but was still hesitant as she lifted the rim of the glass to her lips. What if it tasted horrible? Even tired, she was terribly selective of anything that was about to go down her throat, and sent up a silent prayer she would be able to stomach the potion without making a scene. Inhaling through her nose, she parted her lips to let the cool nightshade draft fall into her mouth, and felt a thrill as a thick, sweet taste fell on her tongue. She swallowed a mouthful of the potion, then lowered the glass as she felt instant drowsiness slam into her. Her eyelids drooped, and she quickly attempted to hand the glass back to Sage before she could drop it, but his hand caught hers, his fingers curling over hers to hold the glass firmly within it, and his voice murmured—as though from far away,
"All of it."
"I'm already…" she tried to say, but her voice was thick with sleep and she couldn't quite work her mouth properly, especially when she felt the cool rim of the glass touch her lips again and Sage's hand gently tipped it back, forcing her to accept more of the potion.
She didn't resist, not like she had the strength to, in any case, and swallowed several more mouthfuls of the cool potion before Sage murmured something quietly to her and removed the glass from her mouth, also resting it from her slack grip. She felt herself falling backwards, but stopped halfway and was lowered gently the rest of the way until her head hit soft pillows. She couldn't lift her eyelids for anything, and breathed a deep sigh as the fur throw was tucked in around her. She was starting to drift when a flicker of consciousness returned to her at the last second and she groaned.
"Demon," she murmured blearily, groping blindly at the blankets around her until she felt something warm under her fingers and clutched at it. A hand closed down around hers, and she felt the bed dip slightly as Sage seated himself.
"What about him?" he was asking softly, his voice echoing as though he was speaking from the end of a long tunnel.
"He doesn't know," she mumbled, turning her head with great difficulty towards Sage's voice, "Where I am…he doesn't know…"
"I will have Bane go to him tonight and inform him you are safe and well," Sage reassured her gently, and she thought she felt his hand squeeze hers before it slipped out of her loose grip. "Sleep now and heal. You will be well enough to travel tomorrow."
Everything was blackness after that, and she neither heard the Winter Prince get up and leave, or close the door behind him as he exited into the main lodge area.
As Sage closed the bedroom door to the human's room behind him, he sensed Bane watching him attentively from the rug by the hearth, and confirmed his suspicions when he turned to face his familiar to find the massive wolf watching him with a solemn expression.
Sighing, feeling suddenly very tired, Sage ran a hand through his long hair, pausing when it came to the thong that held his ponytail in place and quickly untied it, letting the jet black tresses fall untamed around his shoulders and face as he walked across the floor to stand before Bane, who pricked his ears attentively as he looked up at his master.
"I hate to ask you to do this, old friend," Sage murmured, going to one knee and burying a hand in Bane's thick gray fur, "But I need you to take a message to the Cait Sith named Demon, the girl's guardian."
Bane's amber eyes didn't so much as flicker with surprise at this request, and he simply bowed his large head to touch his nose to Sage's palm.
"He is resting in Summer," Sage went on softly, "Recovering at a healer's. I need you to inform him that the girl is here with us only for the night while she sleeps to regain the strength to return to him on the morrow."
Bane nodded in understanding, and as Sage moved his hand away from the familiar the canine rose to his paws and with a flick of his tail turned away to pad to the hidden door that led back out into the forest. Sage watched the familiar go, disappearing through the door and into the frozen lands beyond, and heaved another deep sigh as he was left to himself in the lodge. Running a hand through his hair again, and briefly allowing his eyes to close as he meditated, he considered what to do next. Really, there was nothing for it but to turn in and wait until morning for the girl to wake up from her sleep, since Bane would probably not return for a good few hours. Any other time, Sage himself might have gone to speak with Demon, the Cait Sith charged with protecting the girl, but he felt that he should remain in the lodge with her, should something take a turn for the worse. Also, Bane was more likely to slip in and out of Seelie territory without attracting a great amount of attention and much less likely to encounter hostile forces on the way.
So, that left Sage in the lodge with a comatose, half human Cait Sith, and nothing much else to do except wait or sleep. Sighing, the prince rose to his feet, opening his weary green eyes and making his way slowly back into the preparation space to clear away the remnants of the potions away. Waving a hand at the entire mess, vials collected themselves and flew away into their respective cupboards while the glass he had used to mix the ingredients and the bowl he had ground the herbs in became spotless and set themselves in a neat corner with soft clinking noises. With the cleaning accomplished, Sage leaned back against the wooden counter with a small sigh, and gazed unseeingly across the room at the sapphire flames dancing in the hearth.
A thousand questions and thoughts raced through his mind, though he didn't look anywhere near as pensive as he truly was. He was confused, tired, slightly annoyed, and, above all of that, curious.
He was confused to be certain. He had every right to be. He had never once suspected that after his previous, and supposedly final, meeting with the girl that he would ever actually see her again. He had, of course, anticipated that if she remained in Faery he would inevitably come across her if he was required to venture into Summer as he occasionally was for certain festivities. But he had not ever believed he would have the experience of encountering her again anywhere in or near Winter, and yet, there she had been. He wasn't quite sure what surprised him the most, even. Whether it was the fact that she had appeared there while he and Bane had been lingering on the border as well, in no particular hurry to be anywhere, or that she had remained there for almost endless hours, simply standing and staring blankly into the Unseelie Court's land.
He had been shocked to see her at all there, but after he had overcome that, he had expected her to linger only for a few moments or minutes before turning and leaving, but she had not. She had continued to stand there, almost in a stupor, and gazing across the border between Summer and Winter, never speaking a word. Her jade eyes had barely wavered, only sometimes sweeping the tree line, as though she sensed she was being observed, and as time had worn on, he knew she'd become most certainly aware that she was not alone. The wariness in her gaze had told him as much, and yet she still refused to leave, despite the knowledge that potential enemies had been lurking nearby.
From the first hour onward, standing out of sight of her, Sage had become curious about her motives or intentions in coming to the border, and, finally, when he had at last chosen to approach her, he had questioned her about her reasons for being there. The only problem with that was that he had not received the answers he had expected or wanted. She hadn't really answered him to begin with, just giving a vague excuse that didn't quite convince him of anything. He knew she wasn't lying about her guardian being currently out of commission, though he'd had to work to hide his shock that a Cait Sith had ended up injured. Any self respecting Cait Sith either hid at the signs of danger or was agile enough to make an escape partway through, but Sage had suspected as he spoke to Catherine that the Cait Sith had been injured in protecting her.
Given the girl was like the walking dead from lack of sleep, it only made sense that any kind of run-in with hostile fey would have gone poorly for her if she was in no fit state to defend herself, which made the Cait Sith even more responsible for her protection. And that was something else that fascinated Sage. Not many Cait Sith would so easily put their reputations or their lives on the line for someone else, at least not without serious compensation from whomever they were guarding, but from Sage's previous encounters with Demon, he had gleaned that the cat was getting no such repayment for his services to the girl, making their relationship even more unusual than a Cait Sith getting attached to a half human in the first place, regardless of whether she had ties to his race or not.
It was the one thing Sage hadn't managed to puzzle out in the time he'd known Demon and the girl in Tir Na Nog, and he had finally given up attempting to understand the connection between the two, as it did not concern him in the least. He might have entertained the idea that Demon was the girl's birth father, but Demon had informed him that there was no such relation between himself and Catherine, and Sage believed him. What reason did the Cait Sith have for lying? He was already very much disgracing himself by becoming a half-breed's personal caretaker, so admitting to fathering the girl would not have been a much bigger step into ill repute.
So Sage didn't much mind the relation between the girl and cat now. But something else had begun to nag at him from the moment he'd seen the girl standing on the border, and even more so when she'd refused to directly answer his inquiry as to why she had come back, and why she seemed completely unable to sleep. He remembered her in Tir Na Nog, and remembered she had not suffered such a lack of rest then, despite being in the heart of enemy territory, so seeing her so worn down now, after having escaped for the second time out of Unseelie land, was highly intriguing.
Sage blinked as his eyes began to tire of staying open for so long, and he sighed quietly again as he pushed off from the counter to instead take up residence on the largest pouf that dominated the center of the lounge before the fire, letting himself sink into the cushion of it and letting his eyes close. He lifted an arm to cover his eyes, and dropped his head back further into the pouf, stretching his long legs out in front of him.
The girl didn't want to tell him the real reason she'd come back, he thought to himself, a slight frown appearing on his mouth. She hadn't lied to him straight out, but she also hadn't told him the truth. And that interested him. What was it that she was so keen to keep from telling him? Did she find some kind of pull to the land that wasn't there for her in Summer? If that was the case, he might understand her not wanting to tell him so, due to the oath between them that prevented her from setting foot in Winter, but something in his gut told him that wasn't quite right. Cait Sith, like other fey, were also separated into the Summer and Winter factions based on the location of their birth, but that didn't tie them directly to their designated lands like it did other faeries. They could travel freely between the realms without any kind of difficulty, and most often enjoyed being able to traipse freely through the courts, so it didn't make sense for the girl to feel bound to one side or the other between Seelie and Unseelie lands.
So, land ties weren't an issue. What else could it be?
Rowan might have laid a curse on her during her imprisonment under him the first time she had been caught trespassing in their lands, but aside from Rowan being absolutely horrid with using his glamour in such a manner—other than to seduce whatever female happened to catch his wandering eye—Sage couldn't see his younger brother placing a curse on the girl that would keep her from fairing well outside of their land's boundaries. It just wasn't a logical thing to do, and Rowan, at least, had the brains to know that. And if Rowan knew that, Mab most definitely did, added to the fact that Mab wouldn't waste her glamour on cursing a simple half-breed for anything. She'd sooner leave it up to the dungeon guards to beat on the prisoner than expend her powers on something hardly worth her notice.
"No land ties," Sage murmured to himself, drawing the back of his hand across his tired eyes, "No curses…What else?"
From what he knew, the girl had no friends in Winter, considering her guide was really the only faery she currently had encountered outside of Sage, Rowan and the rest of the Unseelie Court, and there didn't seem to be a reason for her to feel any kind of connection to the people who had imprisoned and fairly tortured her for nearly a fortnight before she'd made her escape. Even if she miraculously did, her feelings shouldn't be depriving her so harshly of sleep. Sage's frown deepened as he sifted carefully through what information he had managed to glean from Catherine in their earlier conversation and what he'd already observed in her behavior.
She was totally exhausted, almost to the point of falling over, but hadn't managed to sleep without the aid of medicinal herbs. She had started suffering from insomnia around a week ago, given her estimations… A week ago… A week ago, she had left Winter after recovering from her injury. Before that, she had been able to sleep perfectly soundly in the chamber he'd placed her—his own personal chambers…
Sage's emerald eyes cracked open under his hand, and a short sigh passed through his lips as a startling revelation crossed his mind. She hadn't been able to sleep since the day she had left Winter after being cared for by him. When standing at the border and first spotting him, though she had clearly shown fear to see him and the nervous anticipation that he might lash out at her for nearly breaking her oath, she had not backed down or walked away. She had continued to stand there, though he had noticed she visibly weakened the longer they stood there until she'd been forced to sit down. She had not been willing to tell him the true reason for her venturing so dangerously close to his family's lands and she had also not been able to meet his eyes for more than a matter of moments if she did make eye contact.
To someone else, it might not have been enough to go on, but Sage felt fairly certain that he was on the right track when he contemplated that the problem with the girl's sleep, as well as her return to Winter, was due in complete part to the fact that she couldn't stop thinking about him. Vain it may seem, and completely unjustified to think so, but as Sage dropped his hand from his eyes, staring vaguely up at the blank ceiling above him he felt entirely sure he was not mistaken.
The girl, Catherine, had come looking for him, longing to see him again.
Now, how did he get her to admit to such a thing? That was the real question. Because he could ponder all he liked, but without direct word from her mouth, he had nothing more than his own speculations, no matter how right he felt he was.
Rapidly, he contemplated every different way in which he could get her to confess the truth of her reasoning in returning, but only one idea seemed completely fool proof with no possible loopholes for her to slip through, though he wasn't fond of it in the least. It was something Rowan was more likely to employ, but Sage remembered something his mother had once taught him: "Desperate times call for even more desperate measures. You use what you have over your opponent or you fail."
Well, he thought a tad bitterly, a dark smile curving his mouth as he levered himself up into a sitting position on the pouf, she hadn't been wrong, though he didn't like admitting it. His mother was a witch, in literal and figurative terms, and he had never found her unorthodox measures very appealing. Though, just once, he'd have to put aside his reservations and do what was necessary. He supposed it was a show of his upbringing that made him such a stubborn, under handed bastard, because any other faery in all of the wyldwood would have just given up on the whole venture of pestering a half-breed for answers that didn't even seem necessary, but he wasn't any other faery, and if there was one thing everyone knew about him, it was that if he wanted answers, he got them. Never mind their insignificance; if he wanted a response, he was given one, or he worked it out of whoever he was questioning.
A horrible trait, he reflected idly as he rose to his feet and moved towards the preparation area, already listing necessary items in his mind as he flung open one of the cabinets for the second time that night, but no one was perfect, regardless of what one wanted to think. He was no exception. And as he drew vials down from the shelves above him, he contemplated just what kind of morning he was looking forward to. Well, if one thing was certain, it would be far from a dull experience.