Maeve glanced over her shoulder at the riverbank and saw that Keith was still fast asleep. He had turned towards her, and she couldn't help but smile at how peaceful he looked. His hair was tousled, his cheeks had a rosy tint, and his lips were slightly parted. She watched as his chest rose and fell slowly with each breath, and she noticed that his arm was still extended where she had been lying beside him. Maeve couldn't deny that he made her heart flutter, and she wished she could hold onto that feeling forever.

Although his shoulder was the most comfortable pillow she had ever had, she could barely sleep. Worry about him and about being out in the nightly wilderness of the Dark Forest overflowed her mind. It was a peaceful night in the end, maybe thanks to the fire, or to the Goddess who may have extended her hand to protect them. When the half-moon was up in the sky and the first sun rays illuminated the horizon, Maeve carefully slid out of Keith's arms and lifted the cloak from his chest to check his wound. There was dry blood smeared around it, yet its overall appearance was better than the day before. And when she couldn't resist but place a kiss on his forehead, she felt his body temperature was now slightly hot from slumber, just as expected.

With everything feeling right, she saw no harm in refreshing herself at the river before waking him up to return to the hut. It had been a while since she had really immersed herself in water, and even though it was freezing her bare skin so intensely that goosebumps rose all over, Maeve took a deep breath and moved further to the deeper part until she could swim. The mild river flow was soothing after all the tension she had been through. Eventually, she turned onto her back and let her body float gently while staring up at the cloudy sky.

Keith wanted to find out if the Lady of Néart had ulterior motives in not instructing him properly for the ceremony. She understood his reasoning; it was not a simple ceremony. It had many dangers and many implications as well. The Sacred Communion was about life and death from the beginning to the end. He would be exposed to the risk of dying, the obligation of killing, and… the chance of leaving a life in a priestess' womb while using the sexual energy of the Stag God to fecundate the earth for a plentiful year. Instinctively, Maeve touched her lower belly, but clenched her hand into a fist, denying the idea of how delightful it would be to grow his seed.

She took a deep breath and closed her eyes. The thought of the Lady of Néart scheming against the Crown of Jade was still hard to believe. For generations the alliance had been perfect, uniting north and south, politics and spirituality, science and religion, so harmonically that the kingdom thrived beautifully. Maeve couldn't see what the Lady had to gain by throwing the prince to a certain death.

Now she felt a growing need to know the truth. To know if her own allegiance was in the right place.

A disturbance in the water interrupted her thoughts, however, and Maeve startled upright, her eyes opening wide, searching around for any clue as to what happened. Before she could find it, she was inevitably caught by it. Strong arms pulled her abruptly into an inevitable embrace against a body she knew well by now, just not like this. Skin to skin, uncovered excitement throbbing hard when his fingers quickly grabbed her hair — not with enraged violence, but with desperate need — and their lips crushed together with a passion she was experiencing for the very first time. She only glimpsed the beastly eyes before shutting her own; they were burning so brightly she was sure the image would be engraved in her memory forever.

Keith felt nothing like the night before, when he kissed her in that dreamy and delicate way, almost as if he was revering her. It was his other face kissing her now; powerful, relentless. He left her no choice but to give in to her own desire of parting her lips and letting him in, with an unconstrained moan that seemed to excite him even more. He groaned as his tongue met hers. The hand on her waist squeezed her so tightly she felt that they could easily merge together; the hand on the back of her head guided her in a perfect synchrony with his urgent and hungry movements inside her mouth.

Maeve tightly held his shoulders as they found themselves in water too deep to touch, intensifying her sense of sinking even inside his grip. Their legs occasionally bumped into each other, becoming entangled as she struggled to paddle. Air started lacking in her lungs, and over and over his tongue danced with hers without a break, until she finally got dizzy.

She would burn.

She would be consumed by flames in the middle of the icy water.

His teeth nibbled her lower lip slowly and her heavy lids lifted halfway, allowing her to meet his gaze as their eyes locked sensually before his teeth grazed her skin again, now the curve of her chin. Maeve had descended into madness, her breaths becoming erratic, labored, and echoing with a disquieting intensity, causing her chest to rise and fall in an unsettling rhythm. His hand moved to hold it, and it took a while for her to realize Keith wasn't trying to ease her breathing. He was massaging her breast instead, caressing her nipple between his fingers in a way that sent a hot throbbing shiver right to her very core.

Was it really that easy to be so aroused? To feel her insides throbbing, begging to be filled by someone else? Or was it just because it was Keith touching her?

"What are you doing?" Her voice was faint, easy to get lost in the sound of the gentle flow of water around them. Maeve pressed her thighs together and, in a burst of lucidity, tried to push him away weakly.

She didn't know where her strength went, however.

Keith had been kissing her neck wetly when he paused and took a deep, painful breath before looking into her eyes. His intense golden gaze pierced through his wet locks that cascaded over his face, giving him an intimidating presence. The mere sight of those eyes sent a visible shiver down her spine.

"What am I doing?" He grinned coldly, in a way she wasn't expecting. Not after what had just happened. "What are you doing swimming nude in front of me? What were you doing letting him kiss you before I could?"

Her head drooped with sudden dismay as reality crashed down upon her. The true chill of the water seeped into her bones, erasing any trace of the earlier pleasure she had experienced.

She shouldn't have let him in. She should have slapped him like she did with his other face.

Getting her strength back, Maeve fought to free herself from his grasp. Perhaps it was her emotional outburst, the element of surprise, or the water that made her skin slippery, but she managed to slip away from Keith's hands and swiftly dove under the surface, evading the sound of her name being called. She swam underwater, fully aware that she couldn't elude him for long, yet she needed those precious few seconds.

As the river grew shallower, she eventually surfaced, gasping for air. The simultaneous rush of water and air caused her to choke, and she attempted to stand while coughing. To her surprise, Keith materialized beside her, scooping her up into his arms.

"Put me down… " Maeve tried to say, breathless and still coughing hard. "Your wound…"

"Stop worrying," he commanded in a confident voice. "I'm not weak like him."

Big green eyes were alert, staring deeply into his as if they could see his soul. Those eyes were docile, yet so fierce, especially with the black painted crescent moon smeared around them. It gave her an almost ferocious look as she locked herself in, tightly squeezing the black cloak against her trembling naked body. Keith adored those eyes. In such a short time, they had become a cherished treasure to him.

"I won't hurt you, you know?" He cupped her cheek softly, but Maeve turned her face away from his touch. It didn't please him.

Keith wanted to kiss her again. And then again. It was a problem how he didn't want to stop kissing her. Her delicate mouth was more alluring now than it was before he knew how soft, warm, and wet it was. The sheepish, inexperienced way her tongue moved, guided by his, made him salivate. And her naked skin, slippery, and yet hot against his own, the volume of her breast in his hand… all of those memories would lead him to insanity so, so easily.

Not deflowering her until the Full Moon would cause him physical pain worse than the wound could ever do. But it would just make his victory even more glorious. Keith would be the embodiment of that Horned God those people worshiped, no matter how hard the ones in power of Néart tried to engage in foul play against him. They would all submit to him in the end, and then he would take all the sweetness Maeve had to offer and put a child in her in return.

Those thoughts made his blood boil inside his veins for many different reasons. So much so that he was still dripping wet and bare, but felt no cold.

"We should head back," Meave, on the other hand, had become a block of ice, and even her words came out freezingly from her lips.

Keith wasn't oblivious to the effect his thoughtless words had on her. They made her scared of him, and although he did enjoy the hunt in the river and the frightened look in her eyes, he also wanted her to be as open and vulnerable as she was before. As defenseless as she was with him.

He couldn't accept having anything less of her than he was having.

"I wasn't mad at you," Keith got closer, taking her body that felt smaller than it really was in his arms. Maeve still flinched slightly, but he tightened his embrace around her. He knew he would have to admit things as they were to make her open up again. Perhaps even… apologize.

He pursed his lips before whispering in her ear. "Listen to me closely. I shouldn't have lashed out at you," Keith took a needed deep breath and watched her shiver. "I'm feeling frustrated, Maeve. Imagine how it is to be locked inside of someone for such a long time, just watching, not acting… Imagine how it is for me seeing you through his eyes, wishing to be with you, and knowing you can't even see me."

She looked at him in silence for a moment, and he could see in those sparkling gems of her eyes that she was absorbing what he said. "I didn't know it worked like this," Maeve murmured at last.

"This is what it's like for me. For him it's easier, he's never around when I'm here," Keith chuckled bitterly. He was the one he should have lashed out at. If only he had let him come out last night; if only he hadn't kissed her lips… That pathetic loser stealing away the treasure he had found. Not him. "I just wish to spend more time with you and to take care of you better than he ever could."

"Don't say that," Maeve narrowed her eyes momentarily, but then her hand reached out to touch his face with tenderness, as if she saw him as a wounded beast, through and through. Keith could have been annoyed by it, but he relished in her innocence. "You sound jealous when there's no need to be."

"Shouldn't I be jealous?" Her words piqued his curiosity, and he leaned closer, seeking answers in her eyes.

"Soon you will leave for Caisteal, and regardless of what you discover, you will still have to attend the ceremony... and then return to court," Maeve stated matter-of-factly. "I've already told you, there's no place for me in any of those."

Keith took her hand and brought it to his lips, placing a kiss upon her palm and watching her face flush. "You're mistaken, Maeve," he smiled mischievously and pressed a quick peck on her lips. Leaning in close, he whispered, "I can create a place for you wherever I desire."

"Keith–" he interrupted her with another peck on her lips. The gesture was becoming increasingly natural, and he appreciated it greatly.

"I know what you're going to say. We can't be together because of the prophecy," Keith gave her a knowing look, and Maeve sighed. A hint of sadness tainted the green of her eyes. "I am the prince heir of Jade, it is in my best interest to keep the kingdom united and ensure Néart's prosperity. I swear to you, Maeve, I will do everything in my power to protect our land. However, if the Lady is plotting against me…" his voice became colder. More dangerous, with a smirk that showed every bit of his intentions. "Then she has sealed her own ruin, and I hope we can act swiftly to prevent her from dragging Néart into her downfall. Rest assured, this has nothing to do with it." For the third time his lips touched hers, but this time he took a sweet moment before parting.

Maeve still seemed unsure as she lowered her head, resting the cold skin of her forehead against his shoulder. "Let's wait and see, then."

It was a better answer than before, though still far from ideal. Keith understood that some things required patience, and since he had chosen to wait to take her completely, he could use this time to help her fully surrender to him.

"Trust me, Maeve," he gently squeezed her shoulder, trying to offer her comfort. "Now, how about we prepare to return to our little hut?"

Maeve was beginning to believe that Keith's gentle face was the more dominant of the two, given the amount of time they had spent together. Much to his other face's dismay, as she witnessed his jealousy in the river. However, it had been a couple days, and those eyes filled with hubris were still ever present, ever close to her. Too close for her to even try to deny him.

With him, sleeping together was not an option anymore, but a certainty, for he would take her in his arms, and not let her go until the morning. It was also a certainty Maeve wouldn't sit anywhere else besides his lap. She recognized that this closeness was beyond mere physical attraction. She could sense in Keith a yearning to be seen, to be understood, to be deeply felt. Just as he had told her, he had lingered in the shadows for far too long, his presence unnoticed by her. Now, he was eager to make up for lost time, and when his hand reached for hers, it held such meaning that her heart would skip a beat.

And so it did, when they were taking a long walk in the woods for practice, and his hand not only enveloped hers firmly, but also guided her to a sudden spin that ended up with her in his arms, lips gaping in surprise.

"I'm bored. Let's dance," Keith's words hardly followed what she perceived about him. That longing for contact never reached his cold voice, but his beastly eyes glistened and his body was achingly warm against hers.

"What, now? But there's no–" music. Maeve was about to say it when he abruptly led her in, following his quick and rhythmic steps, and causing another surprised gasp to escape her lips.

"There's no song for the upcoming king stag? I would be disappointed if a trained priestess can't sing to praise me." Her eyes narrowed at his smugness. The smirk on Keith's face evoked many feelings, good and bad, and she knew it pleased him. Perhaps he believed that the more intense the impression he left, the harder it would be to forget him.

And he was right if he did. What he did to her heart would certainly linger.

Singing was also a topic that evoked conflicted feelings for Maeve, but the thought of wiping that smirk off his face filled her with confidence. Oh, she could sing. She knew she had the ability to render him speechless with her voice. As Keith raised an inquiring eyebrow at her silence, she smiled in response.

"Behold, the Horned King! He who came to join the virgin maiden, the young king!" A song to praise him he asked, and a song to praise him she started singing, her voice resonating brightly, causing his eyes to widen with surprise. Her gestures accompanied the melody, correcting his steps to an even quicker rhythm. Maeve knew that Keith was used to the graceful dances of the court, but this was a different style of dance altogether. In the countryside, the movements had to be energetic and spontaneous, with feet hitting the ground vigorously to match the lively pace of the music that she continued to sing.

Words about the young king stag bringing prosperity to their beloved land slipped melodically from her lips. It was a very common song in Néart, celebrating the belief that the future king would embrace the entire kingdom with honor, strength, and a deep reverence for the soul of Jade. The joyful rhythm was intoxicating, and so was Keith's mesmerized gaze upon her as she led him in the spirited dance. Maeve hoped this would keep his boredom at bay, for it had the power to banish her melancholic thoughts as well.

Once she finished singing, her voice was turned into happy giggles that filled the air. She couldn't contain her excitement, and she kept bouncing around while still holding his hands. In that moment, something changed in Keith's eyes, as if her laughter had woken him up from his trance. A mischievous smirk spread across his face as he firmly clasped both of her hands in front of them. With a sudden burst of energy, he initiated a twirling motion, and although startled at first, Maeve had no choice but to follow his lead. Their bodies moved in perfect harmony; the surrounding trees became a blur as they spun faster and faster, their world narrowing down to just the two of them. Keith's determination and radiance were contagious, and Maeve couldn't help but smile at him. At that moment, she felt a connection between them. Something precious and true; something blessed by the Goddess.

Suddenly, their bodies collided, causing Maeve to emit a surprised shriek. But in that instant, she realized that Keith had skillfully pulled her against him just to catch her by the waist and effortlessly lift her above his head, all while maintaining his spinning motion. It seemed so easy to him, leaving Maeve both amazed and bewildered. Him being with that open wound for so long, and with the shy, insecure face in control, made her forget just how tall and sturdy Keith was. Now that the wound was slowly, but certainly healing, and the man with her made her laugh her worries away, she could finally admire him fully.

Maeve could finally fall in love with him fully, just as she fell inside his embrace when he boldly released her waist just to capture her in his arms again right before her feet could touch the ground. Their lips met, the force drawing them together a primal, unquestionable one. The force of a love that grew like an impertinent weed against all odds.

"Keith…" His name escaped her lips in a purr when he parted their lips, the kiss rendering her breathless and vulnerable to him.

His gaze wavered, from pure, visceral lust, to awe, to… affection. A sweetness she had only seen in the eyes of his gentle face before. Then he kissed her neck, so briefly it felt more like an excuse for him to hide against her shoulder than a gesture to cause arousal. His hands grabbed her with so much desperation it became hard to breathe. Keith was battling to restrain himself, she realized, his heart beating so wildly in his chest she could feel it like a beastly cry to her soul. He was still holding on to his promise of taking her only in the ceremony, as impossible as it seemed to Maeve. Yet, he proved how serious it was for him.

She took the deepest breath she could inside his grasp, running her fingers through his hair in an attempt to soothe him.

"How did you learn to sing like that?" Keith asked in a murmur against her skin before letting her go from his ruthless embrace. He had calmed himself down, apparently, reaching for her hand so they could resume walking side by side as if nothing serious had happened just a few seconds ago

"I…" As things normally went with him, it was all moving so fast Maeve had to stop and think for a moment before answering. She could lie to him to make things easier, however she wouldn't resort to it. Not with Keith. "It's not really my merit, it's just part of my gift."

"Gift?" He creased his eyebrows when their eyes crossed again.

"Every priestess and every druid is endowed with a gift from the fairies when they decide to serve the Goddess. Some can see the future, others can read minds, control elements, or move objects without touching… There are many different gifts, each of which to be used in Her service." Her lips curled into a bashful smile, and Maeve looked away. Her gift seemed so foolish in comparison. Only her second family believed it to be valuable. And Fintan… well, he found it entertaining.

"What is your gift?" Keith squeezed her hand a little tighter, as if sensing her dismay and attempting to encourage her.

"It's... complicated." For a long time, she wondered about how her gift could be of value to the Goddess. In the end, all she could surmise was that perhaps her ability to entertain brought some form of pleasure to Mother Nature. And she tried to accept that it was her purpose in this life; she couldn't be selfish and ask for anything else anyway. When Innes told her that she would be the Virgin Huntress for the next King Stag, her heart was filled with a renewed sense of purpose. However, when it was taken from her, she felt lost again. And even with Keith by her side, holding her hand and assuring her unwavering promises, she still struggled to find her bearings.

"And it's also strange if you're not used to… you know… Magic," she said. The one time someone outside Caisteal na Sí witnessed her gift was an odd experience. Her eyes dropped down, following the movements of her steps against the fallen leaves.

They quickly were drawn up by Keith's laughter, however. "You think you can ever weird me out?" He halted, turning to her and cupping her face between his hands. His warmth engulfed her, and his beastly eyes, gleaming so softly for her, made Maeve feel… special. "There's nothing about you that would drive either me or him away, Maeve."

That was a dangerous declaration. For her heart, that is. She felt like it melted a little more, and once again, how could she deny him? Still she bit her lips, unable to conclude if it was the right decision or not.

"I'll turn just for a few seconds, and please… be gentle." Her request was heartfelt, and she hoped he understood the many implications it had.

Be gentle and don't mention it if you think this is too strange. Be gentle and don't think I'm an abomination.

Be gentle and touch me with kindness, for this is the most frail I can be.

Maeve took a few steps back, growing as apart from him as she felt it was needed before resting her hand over her chest, where her heart was beating fast. Shifting wasn't painful — it felt as natural as standing up from the bed after waking up — but it always made her feel disoriented for a moment. After all, she was leaving one shape to assume another so different: a shape that couldn't speak, but only sing; a shape that moved faster by fluttering wings than running on her legs. A shape so small and defenseless that if Keith were to close his fingers too tightly around her frame when she landed in his palm after a small fly, he could easily end her life.

But he didn't. He held her with clumsy care, and in his curious stare she could see her own reflection, with green beady eyes and black feathers. A black bird, through and through, that leaned towards the huge tip of his finger when he caressed her head.

As Maeve had stated, just those few seconds were enough, so soon she spread her wings to fly back to her original spot and turn into the woman she was. However, when she was still mid-air, Keith shouted her name and she felt her whole, tiny self being pushed aside harshly. The surprise made her return to her true form and hit the ground in a painful thud. Maeve only realized what happened when she saw him holding a snake in a powerful grip. He threw it away as if it was nothing, but to her as a black bird, it would mean a certain death had he not sensed the snake about to pounce on her.

Little tears formed in the corner of her eyes as she still trembled from the shock.

"I've forgotten to mention…" She shakily said with a sad smile on her lips when he rushed to worriedly take her up in his arms. "How useless my gift is…"

Notes:

1) I've briefly referenced the song "Behold the Horned King" by Tuatha de Danann in this chapter.

2) There will be some smut next chapter.