FALLING

I'm falling, falling, falling, falling,

Run to the beat, I run to the beat of my heart.

- LYRA 'Falling'

The mist hung low in the bayou as she ran, tendrils of Spanish moss catching on her hair as she dodged through the cypress trees and over fallen logs. Her feet pounded in time to her heart beat, the organ straining against her ribcage as if it were trying to escape. Her breathing echoed around her, dampened by the mist and the occasional splash as her path took her through the brackish shallows. She could hear him behind her, but she knew he wouldn't catch up with her for a while, instead letting her run until she was almost exhausted before approaching her. She likened it to a predator toying with his prey; he just laughed and called it self-preservation.

She'd taken to running after the events that had led her to staying in New Orleans in the first place - the bloodwraith hellbent on destroying her, finding her hidden heritage as a Fae, discovering her true father and losing him before she'd even gotten to know him properly, her half-brother's unsuccessful attempt on her life - and of course Thomas's successful attempt. It had become her escape, her way of processing her feelings even as her newfound surefootedness allowed her to flee them. Running allowed her to just be her - free of all expectations and responsibilities, even if only for a short while, and no one begrudged her that after everything they'd been through.

The sun was setting, the night drawing in, and she knew there were monsters lurking in the approaching darkness. Low moans whispered through the mist, promising malevolence if she were only brave enough to approach, but the axe strapped to her back reassured her as did the presence of the man with the crossbow behind her. Nik Ryder. Not the cause of her running, not this time (their early months full of stumbling blocks and disagreements as he worked through the legacy of trust issues left to him by Elijah Ryder), but certainly part of her reason for wanting to escape if only for an hour. Lady Thalissa had approached her during one of their regular stays in Lamria with a gentle reminder of her being the sole Fae heir, and although the words had remained unspoken and Thalissa herself was far from retirement, she knew what was being asked of her. Thalissa wanted to start her political training alongside her magical training so she could be groomed to take over the Lamrian throne one day, and the frisson of nerves at that thought had had her heart fluttering in a fight-or-flight response. She'd kissed Thalissa on the cheek, promised to return soon, opened a portal to the bayou, and started running.

Nik had at least had the presence of mind to step through the portal quickly before it closed (he'd known her for long enough to discover her hastily created portals in times of emotional distress were rather unstable) and had dogged her steps ever since. She loved her simple life as a Nighthunter, days spent learning her heritage and how to embrace her magic, evenings spent hunting the monstrous threats lurking in the shadows or drinking with their growing circle of friends, and nights spent in Nik's passionate embrace as they worked off their adrenaline highs. If she were to become a more permanent fixture in Fae society, how would that affect the delicate balance they'd created? Would he follow her as he did now, and embrace the possible future of being with a Fae ruler, or would he allow old insecurities to resurface and return to his lone-wolf existence?

A dead branch snagged her leather jacket as she ducked under a twisted cypress and it slowed her enough to be able to hear Nik's steady paces behind her, and the occasional "Prrrah!" from Prism, her perrikin who'd apparently kept up with Nik. The joyful sound made her slow further, and she found herself able to appreciate the views around her more, the last rays of the sun glowing through the trees and mist, catching insects and floating spores and painting them golden even as the gloom approached. A howl sounded in the distance, sounding like one of the pack out for an evening hunt, or perhaps Cal stretching his legs in his werewolf form.

Her breathing eased as her pace became a jog, now forging her own path through the undergrowth without any destination in mind. The terrain was becoming harder to navigate, but it didn't stop her - her stubborn streak, she mused wryly. The fact Nik remained with her spoke of his matching stubbornness, and she allowed herself a small smile as she sent a playful look over her shoulder. But before she could gauge how far behind he was, her foot caught on a protruding root and her balance was thrown and she was falling, falling—

—until a strong arm caught her and pulled her back against a warm, leather-clad chest. Her balance restored, she twisted to face Nik, his eyes alight with amusement.

"Steady, rook, don't go fallin' for me."

She rolled her eyes, her hands resting lightly on his chest as she felt Prism's small firm head butting against her leg affectionately. "Well it's clearly too late for that."

"I know." His expression sobered, and she found herself on the receiving end of one of his assessing looks. It had made her uncomfortable when she'd first met him but over the years she'd come to appreciate his uncanny ability to understand what she was feeling even when she tried to hide behind a cheerful facade. "You wanna tell me what's got you spooked? And before you try to tell me 'nothing' - I don't have to chase you halfway across the bayou when you're fine." His tone was light but she could hear the undercurrent of concern, and it warmed her even as the damp coolness of the air started to seep through her clothes. She sighed, her breath ghosting out and disturbing the tendrils of mist curling lazily round them.

"Is she upset?" Thalissa had been nothing but accepting of her from the moment she knew of her existence, and she felt a little sick to her stomach at the thought she'd done something to damage her relationship with her stepmother.

"No, darlin', not at all. She's worried she's scared you away."

She looked down, watching as Prism thread her slim body between their legs. The perrikin had grown over the years and was now the size of an ocelot, still full of mischief. Prophecies from her were rarer as there hadn't been dangers in the realm of that when she'd first found her, but Prism still occasionally felt the need to add her opinions to discussions which usually caused no end of amusement. Their psychic bond had deepened over the years and they were finely tuned to one another's emotions, and no matter how far apart they were Prism could always find her. She suspected during her efforts to cover as much of the bayou as she could, Nik had nearly lost sight of her a couple of times and Prism had nudged him in the right direction.

"I'm never going to be able to rule Lamria, Nik. How will they accept me? I'm only half-Fae, they lost Elric and Tialo because of me and they've been playing politics since they could speak - I wouldn't even know where to start!" She shivered and he slipped both arms around her waist to tug her closer.

"Elijah used to tell me not to find trouble where there wasn't any, and he's right. All Lady Thalissa wants to do is start showing you parts of her daily life. Ease you into Fae society more, widen your training and understanding of Fae culture. She's not lookin' to have you take over tomorrow. Hell, she might find someone else and have more children, and you can step back and let them take over. And don't start with the blame game, you know that's complete bull."

"I know, it just - it felt so sudden and it's a lot to take in. There's so much to learn and honestly even if she didn't say it and it's not for many years…unless Tialo returns and has changed his whole outlook, I'm Elric's only heir. I love my life, and it would change so much. And…and what about us?" She'd wanted to consider her words before speaking but they'd fallen out in a rush and she could see Nik taking a moment to process before responding. He simply pressed his cheek against her temple and she rested her head against his shoulder, breathing in his scent and letting it calm her.

"What about us? I'd follow you anywhere, you know that. And it's not like we can live above the Graveyard Shift forever. I'm pretty sure we could find some sorta balance - the Fae might have wards but they still need guards." His words rumbled through her and she smiled, reaching down to pet Prism's soft head.

"The path to a prosperous reign is littered with trials," the perrikin offered, and Nik snorted.

"I just feel like I'm on the edge of a precipice and I'm going to trip and fall," she admitted, and Nik's arms tightened around her in response.

"If you do, you won't be alone." He nudged her back a little and ducked his head so he was looking earnestly into her eyes, and in the darkening gloom she could see the sincerity and love he held. "It's you and me, rook. If it's fallin' you're gonna do, we'll fall together."

Author's Note: It's been so long since I last wrote, I was feeling a little rusty, but I do love Nightbound and I've wanted to write this particular piece for a good few years (ever since I first played it). I do wish they'd expand the series as there was so much potential there.

'Falling' is a gorgeous song and while I don't usually pair music with my works sometimes I can be listening to a piece and visualise the story before I start getting it down onto 'paper'. In this case, the rest of the lyrics aren't necessarily a suitable fit but the music and the lines above were enough to trigger my inspiration.

I've left the MC unnamed and their appearances as open as possible to allow you to imagine your own MC and version of Nik in the fic.