A/N: So this chapter isn't really 50 shades, haha, but just thought it was a funny title to use. I wanted to add a third part in here, but I got home too late, and I just wanted to get what I had done posted today…
~~ Kellan ~~
Just after the Hunt punishment, Kellan looked down at the mess of his hands, feeling strangely detached, for they didn't look like his own.
His fingers had always been long and slender, likely from his faerie blood, while his palms had always been just a little calloused and rough. He had attributed that to his Shadowhunter training, deciding it was likely from years of gripping a weapon and training. They were like a story of his life, showing both the past and the present, even if he did not fully understand his former history.
Now, his palms were covered in red welts and blood from where the skin had torn when the rattan cane had bitten into them. It was a fitting representation of his life at that point in time, he couldn't help but think. His life, and what he had always known, had been torn up and upended, and he couldn't quite put all the pieces back together. His hands would show that story too now, and the scars that remained afterwards would be a reminder of what would happen if he lingered too long in another world.
While the scars were fitting for the Hunt, he could not help but think they were another thing distancing him from the Seelie. Everyone knew the Seelie valued beauty, and he did not think they would find such scarred hands appealing or desirable.
They were now proof of his loyalty to the Hunt for any who had doubted it and he hoped the questions and the gossip would soon be no longer. It was hard though, without the use of his hands, the constant stinging hum of pain a reminder of what had happened. It would fade though in time, he knew, and he held his chin up, wanting to appear strong. Because everyone knew that Hunt faeries did not fear pain, and Hunt faeries could not be broken.
And with everyone's eyes on him, now was not a time that he could afford to look weak.
~~ Clae ~~
Walking to the medics area where the Hunt faerie was being attended to, Clae watched from the entrance for a long while. Finally, he strolled inside, dismissing the other medics with an air of importance, despite their mutterings. Once they left, he stood at the foot of the bed, staring at the unusual Hunt faerie – Cas, Aspen had called him - and studying him. He had beautiful features, both delicate and exquisite, even for a faerie, and Clae could tell he was pure just from looking at them. Despite the sickly pale tinge to his skin, and the dark circles under his eyes, he was still strangely enticing. Perhaps it was because he was a Hunt faerie, and so little was known about them. Their mystery was certainly alluring, and he found himself leaning closer, and narrowing his eyes, his hands slowly moving to slip off his gloves and tuck them into his pocket. The faerie's golden hair was tousled, and his eyes were closed. His movements turned restless however, as if stuck in a nightmare, and he tossed and turned from side to side, looking like he was gritting his teeth. Clae supposed maybe he was just in pain from the poison, as it fought for control.
Suddenly, he realised the faerie had opened his eyes. He had one uniquely silver eye, and the other make him feel like he was gazing into darkness, with the black trademark of the Hunt.
"Aspen?" the faerie muttered, sounding half delirious, and Clae hid a smile as he approached him. Reaching down, Clae ran a finger across his cheek. He was aware of how defensive Hunt faeries usually were, and he knew it was a rare moment of vulnerability. His fingers moved to brush some blonde strands of hair away from his forehead. Finally, he couldn't help himself, and he leaned down to kiss him, delighting in the faerie's surprised gasp at his actions. Sounding a little panicked this time, the faerie tried to mutter the name again, but Clae cut off his breath with his lips.
When the faerie started to struggle, his hands moving to try and push him away, Clae pushed his arms back down firmly, and leaned his weight on him, to keep him there. He was not finished yet, and the faerie could hardly put up much of a fight, his movements weak and slow. It was certainly a rare condition for a Hunt faerie to be in, and his eyes gleamed as he deepened the kiss.
Feeling a sharp bite to his lip, he pulled back slightly to raise a hand and wipe the blood away, looking slightly amused. Did he think that would be enough to stop him? He could feel the power in his position, and it was tempting, so tempting to push him further. To do what he liked with him.
"Get away from me," the faerie hissed, spitting to the side and wiping his mouth. He was angry, no doubt, and his silver eye was a murky grey. There was a hint of horror even, carefully disguised.
Clae's grip tightened, as he leaned forward, his lips by his ear. "This can be our little secret," he whispered, before letting go and drawing away. He was walking a fine line, and he couldn't afford to do much more, for he knew the medic faeries would soon be back. He was not too worried about the faerie telling someone – he was obviously delirious, so either he wouldn't remember, or if he did, he would likely be too humiliated to tell anyone, anyway. No, he wasn't worried at all. Leaving quickly, he drew his gloves back on, a smile at the corner of his lips.
He supposed he now knew what it was like to kiss a Hunt faerie.