A/N: I had other characters I wanted to write about tonight, but it got too late, and now I'm too tired to string together comprehensible sentences. :( I will write more later though!
The word had spread about Caspian's next training session centred around fighting the Unseelie the following day, and Caspian found himself on edge. Each Unseelie had different fighting styles and preferred weapons – they were not like the Seelie, favouring bows, or the like. They did not worry about fighting elegantly. It was hard to teach on such things, but he did have an idea of strategies, and battle formations, and weaknesses – although there were few of the latter. If he could impart something… anything that would help the Hunt, then he would do it.
However, he could not help the feeling of wrongness in his chest. It was one thing to join another faction, for whatever reason. But it was another to betray the Unseelie's secrets. That branded you a traitor, and he had killed enough faeries who had done the same. He did not like the feeling of the other former Unseelie's eyes on him, so he started through the trees, along a well-worn path. He had overheard some faeries mention a training session with Aspen, and he decided to follow up on what he'd mentioned in the past, when he'd asked if he could watch. It would be a good distraction, he supposed, from the thoughts in his head.
Finding the clearing that Aspen often seemed to pick for his sessions, Caspian leaned against a tree, nearby. He was not hidden, but neither was he in a particularly visible place, not wanting to distract the faeries there, who might be wondering about his presence.
They had already started the session, the small group running through some drills and exercises. It was sword-based, which he was glad about, not quite as eager to watch bow practice. They paired off as they ran through some different strikes, Aspen stopping to demonstrate with one of the faeries.
Caspian had been intending to critique as he watched, but instead he found he couldn't look away from Aspen. There was a practiced ease about him as he ran through the drills, his eyes focused as he worked, and his movements careful and calculated. Folding his arms, there was a smile at the edge of Caspian's lips. Not only was it interesting to see Aspen's techniques, but it was not often that Caspian could stare without Aspen looking back at him. He decided he would appreciate such a moment.
There was a clang as the swords met each other, and Aspen pushed forward with his advantage, easily showing how to finish the drill. Caspian couldn't help but be a little impressed. Aspen knew how to get the faeries to listen to him, which wasn't an easy feat – many of the other faeries who led the training sessions struggled with such a thing.
Aspen said all the right things, and it was almost like the old him, but not quite. Caspian wasn't blind after all, and he knew things were far from fine. But he hoped that things would get better over time. Similar to his back – the pain had once bothered him often, both day and night, but he hadn't been bothered by the pain in a long while. Perhaps Aspen's own kind of pain would dull over time. Whether it did or not, Caspian knew he would be there at his side, just the same.
Caspian's thoughts were drawn to the battle for a moment, the worry ever-present in the back of his mind. He wondered whether his parents would go after Aspen to get back at him. He wasn't sure, for he'd never disobeyed them in such a large way in the past. This certainly overshadowed everything else he'd done. His thoughts darkened, and he narrowed his eyes. No, he certainly wouldn't let that happen. Besides, things grew chaotic in a battle, and it was likely they would not even cross paths with him. He was not sure whether he would prefer that, or not.
Shaking off his thoughts as the session started to draw to a close, he watched as Aspen stopped a couple of faeries, to talk to them at the end. Glancing up at the sky, he knew it was time for him to check on the patrols again. He could never be too careful, when the Seelie faeries could arrive at any time. As he started to turn away, he could have sworn that Aspen's gaze met his, just for a moment. Caspian gave a slight nod, whether to act as a greeting, or to express his approval, he wasn't sure. Most likely, it was a combination of both. Aspen gave a slight smile in return, before moving to dismiss the faeries, and Caspian continued on, starting back through the trees. He was sure Aspen would understand why he couldn't hang around, both of them having their own duties to fulfil.
He did not think he always needed words – which was a relief - for Aspen seemed to understand him more than most ever had.
Walking to a quiet area away from base, Kellan's fingers played with the demon's tooth at his neck. He had been a little reluctant to take it back, for he liked the idea of Ethos having it. He knew though that Ethos would have insisted that he take it back, and Kellan didn't have a good enough excuse to argue otherwise. It was reassuring though, to have it there in his hands, the familiarity enough to calm him even with his thoughts on the battle ahead.
Finally letting it fall back to his neck when he came to a stop, Kellan pulled an acorn out of his pocket. It was enchanted and tied to Gwyn, so that Kellan would be able to summon him, if needed. He was not sure if it was considered an appropriate time to use it, but he felt like he needed to, and he found it was important to trust his instincts. Throwing it to the ground, it cracked open, and Kellan uttered Gwyn's full name, stepping back as Gwyn's form took shape in front of him.
Inhaling, Kellan straightened, trying to look more put together. He had many questions, if he had the courage to ask Gwyn, but he pushed them aside for the moment.
As Gwyn appeared, his multi-coloured eyes focused on him, Kellan inclined his head respectfully. "Gwyn," he started, raising his gaze again. "I am sorry to summon you like this, but I am sure you have heard about the battle ahead." He was unsure as to whether Gwyn would be there for it, for he was often busy taking care of other matters, and it seemed unlikely he would be needed for one they were very likely going to win.
"Kellan," Gwyn said in reply, his gaze never straying. "Yes, I am aware. The Seelie Queen has been in contact with me in regards to the matter. Is there something you need?"
Kellan hesitated at the mention of the Queen, before he pushed himself onwards. "I think this is a good opportunity for us to expand our numbers, with experienced faeries. Do I have your blessing to recruit from those who die in the battle?" He paused again at the next part, for it felt wrong to ask for Gwyn's blood. He knew it was necessary though, for part of the initiation. "And if so, may I take some of your blood?"
Gwyn merely inclined his head, pulling a dagger from his side, a hint of approval in his tone. "That sounds like a reasonable thing to ask." Kellan held out a leather flask, keeping his hand steady as Gwyn quickly cut his arm, letting the blood drip into it.
Swallowing, Kellan put the cork on when Gwyn had finished. "Would you like me to bandage that-..."
Gwyn held up a hand. "I will be fine. I have suffered many worse injuries," he replied, a hint of amusement in his eyes.
Kellan nodded, lowering his gaze to stare at the grass. "The Hunt is preparing well to face the Unseelie. Everything has been going smoothly, so far."
"I expect nothing less," Gwyn responded simply, reaching out a hand to tilt Kellan's chin up again, to look at him. "There is something else, on your mind," he remarked, dropping his hand down again. Gwyn had always been good at reading him, as if he could see into his thoughts and his very soul.
Meeting his gaze, Kellan finally found the courage to say something, although he felt a little guilty. He would never accuse Gwyn of picking someone for such a reason, but he did want to know… "Did you… know who my mother was?" he asked, hesitantly. Had Gwyn known when he has made a supervisor? Was it why he was recruited when he died, or the reason why he was promoted? The questions had plagued him for a while.
He found he couldn't read Gwyn's gaze, his expression mysterious, as it often was. "I knew," Gwyn answered simply. "But you are given a new family when you join the Hunt. That is all that matters. Anyone else is from the past, and you are a new person now, reborn again. Do not make the mistake of always looking backwards."
Kellan exhaled slowly, giving a slow nod, a hint of relief in his eyes. Of course Gwyn didn't care. He would not elevate someone, just because of the hierarchy of another faction. "Thank you. For everything," Kellan said, and he meant it. Gwyn had always been the one to see Kellan as who he really was, and to see past his blood.
Gwyn's gaze flicked to him, inclining his head as he turned away. "I must move on. Watch over the Hunt for me, Kellan."
As Gwyn's large steed appeared before him for him to travel onwards, Kellan took a step back as Gwyn mounted the horse, to give some space. "I will," he promised, raising his gaze as they took off, becoming a blur as they disappeared into the night.