Away with the Faeries

Chapter Twenty-one

Taking in a calming breath I curled my fingers tighter around the washcloth before pushing into the cell. Inside it was dark and clammy, a chilled breeze carried the putrid scents that fermented in the dungeons through the enclosed space. Snow steadily gathered below a small vent, rays of moonlight casting through the bars and across a towering figure who slumped strung to the stone wall.

My chest tightened as I gazed at Marcel through the shallow light. Hands strung above his head, he was bound to the wall in heavy chains. A growing body of blood pooled at his feet, dripping slowly from where his head hung.

"Back so soon," he said a noise breaking from him, almost like a laugh.

What have they done? Stalking up to Marcel I tenderly raised a hand to cheek, recoiling away quickly as he flinched under the touch. Marcel's head snapped up, his bruised eyes meeting mine and for a moment they were full of relief. Gently placing a hand on his swollen cheek once more Marcel leaned into my touch. He let his eyes drift shut as I used my thumb to gently wipe the blood from his face.

I thought back on what Princess Jinny had said, my heart beginning to flutter. Before I could stop it the words were leaving my lips; "What's your favorite color?"

His swollen eyes opened, studying my own; "Blue," he mumbled dark eyes never leaving mine.

Bringing the rag to Marcel's eyebrow where his scar had been re-opened I wiped gently at the blood that ran steadily; "That's a lame color," I teased using great effort to keep my voice from breaking under the words.

We grew silent once again; the only noise was of the howling wind outside, the scuffle of a rat across the floor, and the distant moaning of another prisoner in some far-off cell.

"You're very quiet," he said attempting a painful grin, "it's scaring me."

That was a lie. Nothing scares him. I felt my chin begin to tremble as my hand dropped, the blood-soaked rag falling from my grip. "How can you let them do this to you," I cried, anger bubbling in the pit of my stomach. I may not have known Marcel very long but I knew him well enough to know he was a warrior. He was strong, spirited, and didn't go down without a fight.

Marcel strained on his chains as he unconsciously reached out for me, "Rayne," he murmured.

At his voice the wall I built crumbled, tears falling. I was angry, afraid, and completely out of my zone. Marcel called my name again, softer this time. I met his gaze through glassy eyes.

"I've been around for a long time," he began, words strained, "longer than this war. I used to be a person nations feared. I was a terrible man, a monster. I felt invincible," he paused, "I was invincible. But when Otis took my wings I realized I was not. You have no idea what I've done. The people I've hurt," he glanced about the small cell, "this is what I deserve. And I'm sorry, for dragging you into a war you knew nothing about. I thought maybe if I could save the kingdom I hurt most all my sins would be forgiven."

I had no idea what he was talking about. But to me, it seemed as if he'd paid his price ten times over. Gingerly placing my hands on either side of his face I tilted my head until our foreheads met.

"You have paid your price," I whispered, "now they must pay theirs for what they've done to you. You don't need your wings to be strong Marcel," I continued, "but if you can't be strong then I'll be your strength."

Under the moonlight in that rotting cell, our lips met, gentle and unsure. We were both so hesitant to love. Marcel tasted of blood and ash as my lips parted over his, deepening the kiss. He reciprocated in full, straining on the chains that bound him in place. Moving my hands to his chest I leaned into him, fisting his shirt in my hands. Marcel groaned beneath me as we broke apart breathlessly.

"You are the worst kind of torture," he grumbled, brows drawn as his head fell tiredly against the wall.

Stretching to my toes I placed fluttering kisses across his bruised cheekbone; "You have no idea," I murmured before adding, "If you can no longer fight for Erde then fight for me, please."

A painful smile met his face as he gaze at me; "You remind me of a Faery I knew long ago."

"Is that a good thing?"

His smile only grew, long-forgotten memories clouding his eyes; "Depends," he said.

I wasn't entirely sure what that meant but I was going to take it as a compliment. We stayed there in silence, reveling in each other's presence. Wrapping my arms around Marcel's torso, carefully laying my head against his chest I listened calmly to the way his heart took steady beats. I was afraid to love, scared of the fall. Yet, here I was wrapped up in the delusion that I could protect whatever this was.

Pulling away from Marcel I dropped to pick up the soiled rag. All the blood I had wiped away returned in full. My efforts would never be noticed. I had lost track of time.

"I have to go now," I said avoiding Marcel's eyes as I headed for the door.

He laughed lightly from behind me; "No kiss goodbye?"

Halting before the door I felt my stomach flutter. If I kissed him again would it mean I was accepting whatever this was? Was I ready for that?

Facing him I met his eyes, words falling from my traitorous mouth; "You're going to have to try harder than that."