Note at bottom.
Over the years D had met no few creatures of blood and pain. Some were mutants, some were vampires, and some were men. Of those there were some who that were a mixture of things, half-blooded children drenched in their Sire's own terrible nature among his least favorite; Dhampires embracing fully their vampiric legacy, slaughter and indulgences of the worst kind. None had ever had the strength, or even the desire, to turn down a different path.
Except for the girl sitting patiently in front of him.
She had negotiated, he had agreed. An answer was required of him, but she didn't press, didn't huff or sigh or shift, none of the human things to signal inpatients. Just sat quietly, leaning against the low table fingers toying with the edges of a book. All the time in the world to let him gather his words and line them up. It was refreshing.
"I admit I looked for you to do so, but why did you follow?" Impossible not to.
"You wanted me to." The look she shot him was more irritated than not.
"Is that a statement or a question?" A brief shake of her head had a rope of silver spilling over her shoulder and pooling in her lap. "Truth, D, and not the two word version of it either. You did agree."
"I did." He steadied himself internally, drawing his attention away from the lines of silver and black and red to the pattern of the pillows stacked by the wall. Long conversations had never been his preference.
"The desert, I saw another dhampire that hadn't given over to blood lust for the first time. You were skilled, and then you were- kind." He left the storm unmentioned.
"Then the canyon. You were upset, lashed out and destroyed a fully blooded much older vampire. Took a child and delivered a kind execution, performed death rites close to his home." Each reason was being laid out with deliberate care.
"You settle among a group of humans who have more interest in your well being than most have for their own kind." The dead men were left aside as well.
She was studying him, and he kept her to the side of his vision while he continued to study her pillows. Piles of vibrant greens and brilliant blues, grey and cream swirls, checkered purple and white with gold edging along the squares. Such colorful surrounding and clothes, lively and alive and warm; things hardly found in any hunter's life, much less an outcast of any society, but she had found a place to have these things. A place to keep them and pack them up for safe keeping, where she could trust they would still be when she had time to take them out and wrap herself up in them again.
It made him feel a soft ruffle in his inner stillness, a whisper of longing rising up from a deep covered place within. He immediately cast it back down and smoothed those slight waves. All this while keeping track of Wren's stillness, of her bowing her head and her fingers shift to her lap to toy with the ends of her hair.
"Upset is hardly the word, D." His attention sharpened on her as he looked at her again, two predators in this small space. He'd been turning this over and over. No, upset wasn't the word.
"Rage bled in that canyon." Gold gleamed through long bangs and Wren huffed a laugh.
"Could you feel that? Or did you read it from the marks on the wall and the tracks of the ground?" She lifted her head and gave him a smile full of teeth and flashing fangs.
"Both," he said and watched her smile fade. Watched her posture slip back to upright and saw Court bearing in the careful non-stiffness to her shoulders, the tilt of her head, the fold of her hands. Mannerism she came back to without thinking about it, probably not something she consciously used to hide. Many times what wasn't said spoke loudest.
"What?"
Truth: "I saw the tracks and the wall and the carriage."
Truth: "I tasted fury and grief in the sand and the air."
Truth: "I know you didn't tip over the edge of your control."
It was quiet but for the barley-there breaths of them both.
"I don't understand." Without his hearing he wouldn't have heard her. Wrens eyes were fixed on him, her attention riveted on him and some part of him whispered that it felt good, that she should be like that always. He shook that part away.
Leaning forward D laid out his last truth: "You are the first and only dhampire I have ever known to turn away from their Sire's way." Shocked painted itself across Wren's face. "The only one to walk the wire thin path between human and vampire, to choose to live as something other than-"
"A monster?" It was said coldly, shock replaced with a blank mask. Aloof but for the fire in her eyes, then those too were shuttered.
He let the quiet sit for a moment. "A nightmare. Every other dhampire has followed their Sire's nature. You have not."
That brought a small bitter laugh. "I'm still a nightmare, D. We both are, just not to those we were bred to hunt. Instead to those who we've chosen to."
"Fair." That was one of her truths then.
The predawn light gave the mist filled camp a hazy glow, all grey and brown and green. Soft halos of light around low burning fires added an unearthly feel, even knowing the camp was filled with humans.
Not only humans D thought as mist stirred around a slim figure.
D had notices the patrols Wren made, regardless of the nightly watch. Pairs of men stationed at cardinal points, changed every four hours from dusk until dawn. Not unintelligent.
Even still, Wren made a circuit of the camp at dusk, two hours after midnight, and in the predawn. Around and through, he'd yet to decide if this was habit for every visit or not. He'd yet to ask, asking meant answering. Outside of their discussion when he'd first arrived they had spoke little. The questions and answers gained in her tent had required more thought before any others were raised. Before they had parted she had asked him to stay.
"Please, if there is no reason you need go, stay. At least a few days."
It had been a week.
He stepped into the small tent, the Kalindai had placed it near hers, in the evening and he walked the close woods at night. The sentries were used to him now, he made sure to pass them when coming or going. Men nodded to him, women smiled, and children tried to sneak after him. It was the easiest reception he'd had from a group of humans in a very long time.
Then there was Wren. A week and he'd noted her patrols, seen her playing with children, and talking quietly with the elders. Mending and cooking and laughing. When she was here it seemed she immersed herself completely into these people, it was little wonder they loved her, and they loved her with no influence from Wren herself.
One of the things he needed to think on, her empathy. A week and he was still undecided on the issue. He had held himself in a center of calm when they spoke, a state he kept himself at normally but this time with he did so with more awareness and a deeper level of stillness. The parasite had mentioned finding no influence on himself or the Kalindai, that all psychic traces seemed passive: meaning light scans, a glorified mood ring at most; and yet he was still reluctant.
Four dead men in a forest camp, psychic resonances gave clue to outside interference. The physical marks said she never touched them, but her scent had been a thick ring around that camp.
Wren could be incredibly dangerous.
He stood and watched the mist burn away, then turned back toward the section with their tents. It was time for another answer.
The shadow that stopped against her fabric wall was distinctive and unsurprising. She called an invitation and D stepped into the twilight morning of her tent. A gesture had him seated in the same place as before and she closed the book she had been reading at her little table. All of a sudden a week had never passed. She gave a wry grin, inviting him to share in her amusement, and he remained impassive. A still pool as he had been for the last week. No more glimpses of a soul worn thin by loneliness, no more ruffles of his reactions like at that inn.
This didn't bode well.
"Truth, Wren." Damn. "Tell me about your empathy."
By spirits old and new he did not just ask me that!
"D," throat tight she could feel the bottom drop out of her stomach. This wasn't happening. Instinct had wren twisting to rise and bolt before she really thought it through. Which only ended with her on her back and a mildly irritated Hunter pinning her there, embarrassing even with anxiety tightening her chest. This is what I get for wearing skirts. Said skirts were now tangled around her legs with a very male knee keeping them that way. Her left hand was still free but she wasn't so far gone as to reach for a knife. In no way did that end well.
"My truth for yours, Wren. That was your price." Why did he have to be so close, above her but not touching, it was like have a rumble of thunder break right overhead. A knee pinning her skirt to the floor, right hand on her wrist, and left supporting his weight near her ribs, she realized she was being caged by a storm. She couldn't breathe. Rich brown hair fell around them, curtained them from the world. It focused her on his face, his eyes. She could almost feel the charge before lightening.
"They don't know." She gave the words to him like a prayer, on less than a breath. "The Kalindai, they don't know." Cocoa. His eyes were the same rich brown of cocoa. D studied her before rolling to the side. Wren had to close her eyes to focus on just breathing for a moment. All she accomplished was dragging down breath after breath of D's scent, it wasn't helping matters.
"Tell me." The only thing worse, Wren decided, than sitting across from D while he spoke in low rich tones was listening to that voice come from so close next to her while her eyes were closed. That left room for too many imaginings, and she had been doing so well not to let her thoughts travel that way.
Another dry swallow, before she started. "I've always been this way; my mother once called it a gift. Rarely have I ever agreed."
She kept her eyes closed and couldn't bring herself to speak above a whisper. "I didn't interact much with anyone when I was younger. A lot of time spent reading, with my mother, on my own. There were people around but I wasn't to speak with them, they were to be ignored. I could still feel them. They hurt, all the time. They were afraid, always. My mother- my mother was always sad, crying inside. It felt like standing in winter rain. The only time it stopped was when she would brush my hair. A thousand strokes and she would sing soft songs. It was the only time she felt warm." This was more about herself than she had ever shared before, early life was not something she talked about with anyone.
Home was dark. Father was fear. Mother was pain.
"I eventually learned to block it out. It's a constant thing, even now, though it doesn't take nearly as much effort as when I was younger. I didn't really learn how to keep myself to myself until after I came here for the first time."
"The boy you nearly killed." That did earn him a sideways look.
"Yes," she said dryly. "His tension didn't exactly help my own. I wasn't in the best of place before that. Then everything shifted and I was lashing out before I had realized what happened."
A long quiet filtered in around them after that. Wren closed her eyes and just listened. The camp had been awake and active for some time now but in here it seemed their own little world. It was rare for anyone to call on her before noon, even then it was mostly in the evening unless she had the flap open or was outside.
"I can have a general sense of those around me when I'm holding it closely, but not trying to lock myself up tight. That's generally where I stay. Some people are more open, easier to read, than others. You are a quiet spot in this camp, more so now than at that inn. Humans generally give no thought to keeping themselves to themselves, but I'll run across a difficult one now and then. A bit of focus directly on them is generally all it takes. I'd have to actually dig with you, and you'd probably notice. I'm not particularly keen to try either. Crowds have a collective feel to them, individuals can stand out." Threading her fingers over her stomach and turning to face him she felt more centered. This hadn't gone horribly wrong yet. "Anything else?"
His hat was on the floor and he was still on his side watching her, right hand propping up his head and left flat on the floor next the her waist. She should feel like he was looming but he was to still for that. Still, they were steadily heading towards unnerving.
"The courtyard at the inn."
Really she couldn't help but sigh. "I was focused on you." A flicker of something in his eyes had her huffing, "Not like that." That won her an arched brow. "The fight with you had my focus, there's always some part that's focused on," drumming her fingers on the stiff leather over her abdomen she searched for a better word and found none, "keeping shields in place. I had them pressed tight as I could and could still feel you." The displeased hum escaped more or less on its own. "But most of my attention was on what you were doing and not getting caught out on your blade. The crowd took me by surprise."
The explanation seemed enough when D just closed his eyes. That odd buzzing stir happened again, still an unfamiliar sensation: like drops of rainbow oil on the still water that was D.
Still watching him she couldn't help but cast back to that burst of concern, that solid line from shoulder to hip that had helped keep her grounded. She didn't like crowds for several reasons, mob mentality being a large factor, the Kalindai notwithstanding. Mobs and trees were bad to have together.
Also it seemed fair to assume it was her turn.
"How did you know?" Cocoa eyes opened and watched her; she let him have his time. His patience had let her answer drag 'til nearly noon.
After long enough she let her eyes drift shut, it was nice to just rest with someone near. Uncommon enough of an occurrence that there was no way she wouldn't take advantage; she let herself relax into a light doze. Even with the shift of fabric didn't fully draw her attention, only to startle at the slight tug on her hair. There was the barest of smiles lingering around D's eyes and mouth before his expression smoothed back to neutral. Evidence of his guilt still trapped by his fingers.
Another long period of quiet stretched and filled the spaces between them as D seemed to gather himself, toying with the strands of hair.
"Thousands of years ago I came across a creature that left the shambles of a Court it served. I made a deal of sorts with it. It needed a host and I believed it could prove useful. It sensed the resonance of your empathy."
Wren kept her expression politely interested, even if the Hunter was still studying her hair, as she let that sink in. A parasite of some sort, possibly manufactured. But to leave a Court, incredibly difficult regardless of standing or rank.
"Did it follow you, Hunter?" The briefest whisper of strain passed over D and then gone, posture unchanged, but the feel of focus was suddenly sharp. Chocolate eyes lifted and met gold, caged them with the force of his regard. This was dangerous ground whether she had meant to tread it or not, she was here now and would not back down. It seemed she wasn't the only one laying open more of their past here than ever before. There had always been rumors and whispers and speculation on who D was, and where he came from. D was someone's kin whether he acknowledge it or not, whether he claimed a Highborn title or not.
"Not quite." She didn't bother to hide the exasperation of her face.
D huffed and then rolled onto his back, laying next to her, and Wren couldn't help but grin at the picture they made. Two adults, millennium between them, laying in the floor sharing secrets like children. Its was one of the most charming of moments she had experienced in some time. Inspired by the giddy feeling Wren shifted up to mimic D's earlier posture: propped on her side hovering next to D flat on his back. The Hunter's face was still impassive but his eyes were warm as he watched her settle next to him. There was even a quick gleam of humor from that internal stillness when she tugged on a lock his hair.
"Come now, fair's fair." She didn't try to fall back into a cool mindset, there was no reason every exchange they had to be calm and retience. A good mood should be shared, after all.
"I came across it nearly a millennia after I left my Sire, but it was once apart of that Court. It left when it found the chance."
"It needed a host to get out?"
"Yes, it took a fleeing human, and jumped from there to another when it could. Again and again for close to a century."
She let the silence settle around them again. It was soft and warm, the mid afternoon sun beat down on the tent lending a lazy heat and hazy light. D's hair was rich and thick and he closed his eyes as she played with the lock she had tugged on. With a rather relaxed sense of decorum bolstered by the snug feeling filling their space Wren moved from the ends of one piece to run her fingers through a larger section. Careful still not to touch skin she still enjoyed the cool slide of the thick dark strands passing through her fingers. D seemed to sink the barest amount into the floor and Wren carded her fingers through his hair again, feeling as if she was petting a great and dangerous beast that need only lash out to kill her.
Not far from the mark, that.
Smiling at the thought, Wren kept petting even as she started to hum softly.
D had found heaven.
It had been a incredibly long time time since he was this relaxed. Gentle fingers carding through his hair and the lazy press of afternoon heat without the glare of the sun made the floor more comfortable than it probably was. But it was dark and warm and the soft humming next to him had shifted into a kind of wordless singing. The tone was nice and clear, even if it did sound a little breathless from being so soft, and D let himself float. He could almost hear the lyrics Wren wasn't saying but they still lingered jest out of reach and D felt no need to try to force the remembrance.
:Not to ruin this incredibly adorable picture or anything but, is it just me or is this song familiar?:
Quiet. He did not want the thing's sarcasm now.
He felt the thing huff even as lyrics slotted themselves into the wordless song.
"Have a taste of sparkly star
And drink a sip of moon.
And when you feel that you've gone far
Then sail back to your room."
He opened his eyes and Wren stopped singing even as she kept running fingers through his hair. She was soft and relaxed next to him, head propped on her left hand and her right lifing and sliding with genlte movement while sleepy gold eyes watched him. Everything about her in that moment breathed contentment.
"Wren?"
The answering hmm came even as she stretched out her arm and sank down to lay next to him, no longer propped up he had to turn his head to see her. Fingers tangled in his hair but still no he was sure she was close to drifting off completely.
"Where did you learn that song?"
Dark lashes fluttered before parting to show a glimmer of mischievousness and sly smile slowly formed.
"Is the resonance of my empathy the only thing it can sense?"
There was the cackle of the parasite's laughter in his head even as D huffed his own amusement and acknowledged that both were questions that would go unanswered for now. Soft even breathes became the new backdrop for his relaxed and drifting state as D watched the progression of light against the fabric walls. They were entering early evening now, the sun would be disappearing into the trees within the next half of an hour, dinner calls would go up within the next two . An entire day spent resting and drifting. Long warm lulls to soften what were no doubt unhappy memories.
He didn't like to dwell on when and why he had left his father's court, nor the thousand years before stumbling across the parasite. It had been an uncomfortable time.
:Aw, come on kid, it wasn't that bad. You did alright. Killed a lot of vampires those first years on your own. Right terror for the Nobles you came across. And when ya started actively hunting them down? Ha!:
:Granted the Old Man was pretty much bat shit by that point.:
You've never said if that was why you left.
D waited but there wasn't anything more from the parasite. It was normally harder to get the thing to be quiet. Still, peace should be had when it could.D let himself sink into a light sleep, warm and content.
And once it was sure the Hunter it inhabited was deep enough asleep to not be disturbed the thing whispered :It was never about the Old Man, D. You may have left the Courts and I might have ran from it too, but I never stopped serving, my Prince.: Then the parasite too shifted its attention inward and drifted off to sleep, pleased that the Nobel it served was content and determined that he would stay that way.
Hi guys, sorry about the redact but I apparently had a crazy moment when I posted last cause that whole thing was kinda supposed to happen later. Lot more bonding and traveling happening first. So much sorry guys, ill try and make it up to you I swear. I really do want this to be a great story for ya guys.