Away with the Faeries

Chapter Thirty-seven

 It all happened at once. Otis's face flushed beet red at the bold accusation. Marcel flashed a wink before leaning in close, his lips grazing my own before he unsheathed the blade at my waist. Pine and ash.

"Close your eyes," he murmured beside my ear and so I did. The sound of panicked screams and steel against steel filled my ears followed by the noise of bodies dropping. Moments later the sword fell heavily back into its enclosure at my waist. Marcel's bloodied hand reached for my own as we raced back off to the horses. As I began to turn my head to glance back at the bloodied mess, Marcel grabbed my chin his dark eyes pleading, "Don't look."

There was something that stirred within his gaze, fear. He was afraid I would see the monster he was written out to be, the one capable of dropping kings and armies. Marcel was scared if I looked I would see the demons. But I know your demons, I wanted to say, and they are no worse than mine. With a nod I kept my gaze glued to the Fae before me as he placed gentle hands on my waist, lifting me to the horse. Marcel climbed on after me, his chest pressed against my back as he reached for the reigns. Pine and ash and blood.

We made it back to the camp by mid-day the entire ride Marcel revealed to us what he had learned while imprisoned in Bloed. Jinny had called in her favor with Queen Visha, needless to say, Silas had been poisoned and died. Jinny took the throne of Bloed as we spoke. But she was battling her own war in Bloed. Fighting nobles and councilmen, trying to recall the soldiers deployed. A grin settled on my face at hearing the news, I knew she would make a great ruler someday.

Ignis was still at large and refused to surrender even after their ally was on the verge of defeat. Tides were turning in our favor, this was beginning to look like a war we could win. Warriors gathered close as we approached the camp, wide-eyed gazes fell heavily on Marcel. As the news was spread of Bloeds predicament many cheered, others wept, but most seemed as if it was lies that had been spread before them. They've fought in this war their entire lives, many were born to it, it was all they'd come to know. It was hard to believe that victory could be likely.

———

Stars blossomed within the sky, twisting to an unheard symphony as I exited the tent hours later. We had come to an executive decision to ride on Ignis within the coming days. Most of Bloed had retreated, there was little worry of them becoming a threat once more. Morale was higher than it had ever been within the camp, after so much loss we had finally tasted the sweet flavor of gain. We would win this war, there was hope. There hadn't been hope in a very long time.

Marcel fell from the tent after me, his callused hand slipping into my own. With a silent tug, he lead me far from the camp until the fires were only sparkling glints amidst the stars. Quietly we walked beside one another over the trammeled grass of the battlefield, one forged of blood and breath.

"You were gone," I murmured allowing my eyes a quick glance to where Marcel stood showered beneath the moon's favor.

"I was," he agreed most solemnly. 

My traitorous feet stumbled of their own accord, drawing me closer to the Fae; "I thought you had given up."

At this his rough gaze landed on my own, a gentleness flickering within the dark; "I had," he admitted taking a tentative step to where I was planted.

"What changed your mind." Say me.

"You."

Under the symphony of the dancing stars, we met as if for the first time, slowly as if to memorize the outline, touch, and taste of the other's lips. He tasted of sweet vice as his hands found my waist, pulling me flush against him. Our foreheads fell against each other as the kiss was broken. Taking a step back I glanced up to his dark eyes.

"Dance with me here and now on this bloodied battlefield," I held a ruined hand for him to take covered in calluses and sin, "Where only the ghosts of the fallen can watch us."

With a smirk Marcel accepted my hand, tugging me once more against himself. Resting a single hand on the small of my back. I leaned into his embrace as we fell into a steady sway. My head found his chest as we danced on through the night like two broken pieces finally made whole. If he asked I would've promised forever, I would've promised to be by his side until the stars stopped their dances and until all else faded. I would be here with him swaying to a melody only we could hear.

Promises parted us as we traced delicate patterns across the night sky, our backs to the damp grass;

"Promise me forever," I breathed, my head resting against Marcel's own.

"In life and death," Marcel swore, "I promise you forever."

At his words our hands carefully intertwined, in life and death he had promised.

As sleep came to take us away words fell from my sleep-ridden lips; "Forever is a long time," I lulled.

Marcel's soft chuckle blossomed into the night; "No," he countered his voice growing foggy as the darkness consumed me, "For you Dame de la forêt, an eternity wouldn't be long enough."

But eternities and promises were for dreamers. Faery Queens and outlandish wars were for dreamers. Pine and ash were for dreamers. At some point, all those that dreamt would have to wake. But I would never awake, I looked to Marcel a soft smile stealing my face. I was Away With the Faeries.