mavka [d.m]

04.

draco
———

She's not bad for a Nymph, he supposes.

She's tall and lithe, her skin golden olive. Her hair is dark — but not exactly black. More like chestnut — long and wavy, brushing the small of her back. Her eyes are nearly the same colour as her hair — not as hazel as Vega's but not as dark as Nero's. Somewhere in between —a mixture of honey and earth.

Draco doesn't know why he took such interest in them when he first saw her. All he cares about is that she is currently standing in front of him, looking exhausted even though she tries to hide it. Still, even through her fatigue, he sees the curiosity in the surprised raise of her eyebrows, the way she bites down on the inside of her lip.

At least her heartbeat has settled a bit. He was getting a headache from how hard he could hear it pounding away in her chest. If he hadn't been trying to gauge what scared her and what didn't, he would've shut it out completely for fear of bringing on a migraine.

"The Elder Tree," she repeats, staring at him. "You want to find the Elder Tree?"

Nero sends a sidelong glance at Draco. "Not the quickest out of the bunch, is she?"

Mavka shoots him a glare that even Draco has to admit is intimidating. "I'm asking because it's impossible. It's a myth."

Draco clicks his tongue. "They think it's a myth. Tell me, Creature of Death, what do you know about it?"

Her brow furrows and he can almost see the gears turning in her head. "It's a tree—"

"Never would've been able to tell." Nero's voice is bored and Mavka ignores him.

"It's supposed to be — I don't know — some kind of magical entity. Gifts whoever reaches it immeasurable power and all." She raises an eyebrow at Draco and he's once again impressed at how controlled she keeps herself, how delightfully passive. "But it's a myth. No one has ever found it — or if they have, there's no record of it."

"It isn't a myth." She's pretty much spot-on about the rest. "We have books in our archives dating back millenia which mention it. It's real."

"And you want me to find it." She shakes her head. "It's a suicide mission. I'm not going to go traipsing about Korinthos in the hopes of finding a mythical tree—"

"Then you can spend the rest of your life wasting away at the bottom of my dungeons," Draco drawls and her mouth snaps shut, making him feel smug. "Or if that doesn't convince you, I can always pull in Aleko for some reason or the other. Do you think prison would suit him better or you?"

He knows she's smart. That much is obvious. Whether she's intelligent or not is a different story — but she's definitely smart. She's a quick thinker, good in stressful situations and exerts amazing control over her impulses. Usually, anyone else would've tried to bolt, to plead for mercy, to supplicate themselves at his feet for any way out of this — but she's marvelously stoic and rational.

She's no fool, though. Her heartrate is still elevated — but the fact that she's managed to calm it so much in the face of two Fae, one Daemon, four guards and certain death, is admirable.

Regardless, she doesn't miss his threat. "And if I can't find it?"

He shrugs in response. "Then we'll figure out what to do then."

Another raise of one elegant eyebrow. "That's not a guarantee of my safety."

Nero scoffs but Draco entertains her. "I will not kill you if you cannot find it, Evrima."