forum “You’re a pain in my ass.” “That’s Miss Pain In My Ass to you.”

Started July 15, 2023 by @emilyevewrites group

tune

Aedion was slow to eat, despite his grumbling stomach. He was starving. He had last eaten early that day for breakfast. That was a good twelve hours ago. He needed to pace himself or else he might throw it up. He had learned that the hard way as a young soldier.

"Straight to the point," he mused. Most people woukd dance around what they truly wanted to ask, drawing out the conversation. His eyes flicked behind her before meeting her gaze once more. "I'm traveling south." He had rehearsed this story many times. Too bad no one had believed him before. Hopefully she would. She was not a soldier searching for him nor a bounty hunter trying to collect the money. He was wanted dead or alive.

"I'm going to my Aunt's. She lives near the border. She has just lost her husband and my mother has asked me to see to her." A complete lie. His mother was dead and he had no idea of any family he had other than his half siblings. Siblings who woukd rather see him dead.

"It's dangerous times to be traveling on the roads. I'd be a full not to be armed as I am. I've had to use them more than once and I'll likely continue to need to." He purposely ignore the question of his occupation. Just thinking about what he used to be pained his heart.

(Sorry! 😅)

Emaria observed both the pace of his eating and the waves of starvation that rolled off of him. He'd been without food for a long while, that was immediately clear to her. For some reason, his description of the Fang Mountains seemed off to her. But she figured it was just her own curiosity and slight paranoia.

She smirked easily at his comment. In a single motion, she shrugged and propped her chin up on her fist. "I know what I want," she replied simply. His eyes locked on hers once more, and again, their striking blue color made Emaria stare. So much so that she almost missed his answer to her question.

Her expression softened, and she felt guilty for pushing the questions on him so hastily. "My condolences to your aunt and the rest of your family," she replied. But even as she spoke, Emaria noticed something odd. His emotions. He had no sense of loss of pain or any typical feelings associated with the passing of a family member, no matter how distant. He felt absolutely no remorse.

So the half-fae's eyes narrowed ever so slightly. She was starting to doubt him, and she wished her mother were here. If she so chose to, Farah could look right through this man in a heartbeat. See into his soul and untangle every thought and decision he'd ever made, recover the face of every person he'd ever met, and peruse through his memories at her leisure. Not that she would. Her mother had a noble soul, and she had sworn to never pierce the mind of someone who was unwitting. Emaria had no such moral restrictions.

"Indeed it is dangerous times," she agreed, her eyes noting the vast assortment of weapons on his immediate person. "I understand that." Another baiting question rose to the front of her mind, especially as he cleverly avoided answering what exactly he did for a living. "Surely, you must be trained in these weapons. It would be dangerous to wield them without proper instruction."

(Np! I've been busy at work haha)

Aedion dipped his head at her condolences. He tried his best to sadden his face a tad but he remained mostly indifferent. In all fairness, he always looked indifferent. He rarely showed any emotion and even fewer have seen him show emotion. Save the nights he had gone out drinking with them. That was one of the few times he allowed himself to relax and let go of his burdens even just for a few hours.

Just thinking of his men made his heart hurt. He missed them. He missed ruling over them. Being general made him feel accomplished, proud even. He was good at his job and even better on the field. He had worked harder than anyone else to get where he was. He'd made life long friendships and bonds that couldn't be severed. And yet all in a span of minutes he had lost everything. Because he refused to follow the king's orders. He needed to warn the kingdom and then he would call upon his legion. Until then, they would be waiting.

Unrest was amidst the people. At least anyone with common sense. It was almost as if the atmosphere had turned sour and began to affect the people. Crimes rates had increased. Murder, thievery, kidnapping, all increasing. And even if it hadn't been and the roads were mostly safe, he would have still been armed to the teeth. He didn't feel comfortable otherwise.

"I have been." Her curiosity was a dangerous thing. He should end it now and send her back to the bar. He should be on his way, even if the cramped little inn room was calling his name and the storm still waged outside. And yet this was the first interaction he's had that wasn't leading to death. Or at least it hadn't yet. It wasn't hostile. Perhaps friendly.

He wondered what she wanted. Was it the story of an adventure? Or something more? He wouldn't deny that it had been a long time since he had been with a female. While he wouldn't say no, he wouldn't proposition anything either. Too much was at stake for him to be pining over some girl.

All good! :))

Emaria studied him closely. Dipping his head, perhaps to hide a contrary expression, perhaps out of genuine sorrow. It was truly difficult to tell with this man whether he was just unemotional all the time or trying to hide something. Or maybe he was sad for his uncle’s passing and expressing it in his own way. She wouldn’t know unless she pried open the gates of his mind. It was a very tempting task.

But for now, she was unaware of all that ran through his mind. Emaria had no idea the thoughts he turned over, but her magic still picked up on the emotions those thoughts brought out of him, even if he didn’t show them on his face.

Sorrow. Loss. Unrest. Longing. Anger. Worry. Discomfort. Urgency. Each emotion he felt, Emaria processed in her own mind. She made sure her hair covered her ears, specifically the slightly pointed tips, as he responded.

Her eyes widened slightly at his admission to being trained in all the weapons he carried. She knew no other profession that he was or could have once been but being a soldier. Her father was a mercenary, and not even he had handled some of the weapons, she’d managed to glimpse on this man.

“I see,” Emaria murmured. She was about to say something else before a voice yelled over the crowd.

“Emaria!”

The half-fae girl winced and looked back toward the bar. Gail was standing there beside an apologetic-looking Valerie with her hands on her hips and an eyebrow arched. Shit, she’d been caught. “I guess I should go,” Emaria muttered, adding in a vulgar phrase under her breath. She slowly rose to her feet, but before she left the table, she leaned closer to the man and whispered, “Don’t leave without buying another drink first.”

Then, she made her way through the tavern patrons, preparing herself for the reaming out of a lifetime from Gail.

Aedion longed to go home. Home. Not a place but a people. His men. There was no place he called home. Noe where to call his own. He had been a bastard. Hated by his half siblings and his father's wife. He had been beaten by them constantly. That was no home. After joining the army, he moved around constantly. He was never stationed anywhere for longer than a year or so. The friends he had made had been lost to death or stationed elsewhere. He had never felt like he belonged until he had grown to general of his legion.

She was analyzing him. He could tell by the way she was looking at him. That concentrated look in her eyes. He didn't quite like it. He didn't like be analyzed, especially not by some random girl he had met at a tavern. His fingers were drumming against his thigh, the only indication that he was uncomfortable.

He could see as she realized the extent of his training. That she had some indication of at least what he was. Dangerous and yet she didn't seem frightened. Only intrigued. Which meant she didn't know who or what he was yet which was good. He wanted to keep it that way. But it was good that she also understood that he was a force to be reckoned with should she try to cross him. He had never lost a fight.

His eyes shifted back to the woman calling her name. Emaria. He murmured the name under his breath, so low that no human would have been able to puck it up. And he did something he shouldn't have. He offered her a smile. "Run along. Perhaps I'll be seeing you."

He made no promise to get another ale. He wouldn't even finish this one. It would only be a waste of money to purchase another drink. However he found himself slightly inclined to do so if only to speak with her more.

He leaned back in his seat, raising his mug to his lips and taking a long sip. His eyes remained on her, Emaria, as she walked through the crowd of patrons to her boss. His ears strained to listen to the conversation, picking up bits and pieces over the crowd. He hid his smile under the hood of his cloak as he watched. Until the door opened and a struggle if soldiers walked it. They were unmissable by the royal insignia on their cloaks. He stiffened, metlijg into the shadows behind him, trying to remain unseen by them.

He listened to them as they chattered and made their way up to the bar. One of them called to Emaria. "A round, sweets. We're thirsty and hungry, so urgency would be appreciated." Gods, Aedion forgot what counts soldiers could be. His own were good men. He made sure of it. But not all soldiers were as good as his own.

"It's been weeks and we're still running around jn this wild goose chase," one of then said. "I'm tired of chasing a ghost."

"He's a traitor to the crown," another snarled. "The king has assigned us this mission. It's an honor to track down the traitor. He can't be allowed to leave the kingdom. He knows too much."

The guard who had ordered their drinks turned his attention to them. "Did you think it would be easy?" He snarled. "Aedion isn't the youngest general for nothing. He is strong and brutal and resourceful. If it wasn't a challenge then he shouldn't be a general."

Aedion needed to leave. Now. But how could he do thay without drawing attention to himself. The longer he stayed in their vicinity the more he was at risk of being discovered. His only hope was that they wouldn't recognize him.

Emaria nearly winced from the longing that poured from this man. There was no fathomable way that he was only thinking about his deceased uncle, if in fact that were the truth. Whatever he was thinking about was bigger than that. She couldn't pinpoint exactly what it was without entering his mind, though. And even though her morals were significantly looser than her mother's, she didn't make an attempt. Hiding her fae nature was easier than dealing with the fallout of revealing it to a complete and total stranger.

Then the longing mixed with discomfort. It was a pretty good indicator that she was pushing him too hard with her questions and intense monitoring of his body language. Emaria leaned back slightly, but that was when Gail called out to her. Her ears twitched slightly as she said her name, and she turned to him, not realizing how lowly he'd spoken it. She smiled back at him briefly. "Perhaps you will," she replied before making her way through the people. She moved with ethereal grace, dodging stray elbows and stumbling men, until she was once again behind the bar.

"Emaria," Gail snapped once she was within earshot. "What the hell do you think you were doing?"

The fae woman pursed her lips and rocked back and forth on her feet. "Making conversation," she replied honestly.

Gail scoffed and shook her head. "I don't care if you traded all of your tips for the week with Valerie." Emaria shot the other girl a look. She'd definitely been forced by the older woman into ratting. To be fair, Emaria didn't blame her. Gail could be a force sometimes, just like her name. But Emaria knew how to deal with her. "You deliver the food and get back behind this godsdamned counter, do you understand me?"

"Yes," Emaria muttered in return. She didn't feel like putting up much of a fight today, but in the past, she and Gail had gone at it for hours. It was a wonder she still had this job.

The door opened behind her, and Gail's eyes lifted to look who had entered. Her eyebrows arched, and she looked back at Emaria. "You're up. Punishment for leaving Valerie alone with the entire town wanting a drink."

Emaria turned around and swore under her breath. The soldiers were coming her way too. Just great. She leaned on the bar and stiffened immediately at how the man addressed her. "I'll have you know-" she began fiercely. A sharp hiss from Gail made Emaria stop speaking and turn her head. And the warning look in her eyes said enough. The fae woman rolled her eyes and looked back again. "Coming right up, gentlemen," she replied lamely.

Before she turned around, Emaria snuck a glance at her mysterious man in the corner. She was surprised to see him shrinking back into his booth, but she didn't show it on her face. Snagging the glasses she needed, Emaria turned towards the tap and put her back to the entire room. With her face concealed, she called to her magic, and her eyes turned purple.

She listened to the soldiers' continued conversation while reaching out empathetically to the man in the corner. Yes. His mind was racing, and he was tense. Coiled up in the corner and trying not to be seen. Emaria let her magic fade, and the color of her eyes did as well. As she worked to fill all of the drinks, she paid close attention to the words of the soldiers behind her.

They'd been searching for someone for weeks. A traitor who must have found out some kind of secret information. This traitor was a general. The youngest, apparently. And then it clicked. Emaria wasn't stupid. She put two and two together rather easily. Aedion was the man in the corner. A young general who was a traitor to the king. But for what reason? What did he find out? She knew his excuse to visit his aunt was poorly constructed.

"Sounds like you gentlemen are tired from the road," she said casually as she set down the round of their drinks. "Perhaps some of you could use a little… pick me up?" Emaria already regretted the words as she leaned further over the counter than necessary to show off her breasts beneath her corseted top and clasped her hands together to make them pop a bit more. Damn her. She inclined her head, batted her eyelashes, and only hoped that the distraction would work with the soldiers ogling at her. That way, if the man was Aedion, he could hopefully escape.

Warning bells were going off in Aedion's head. A supposedly safe place to get out of the rain had suddenly become a deadly stop. He should have never come here. He should have found shelter in the woods. A caver perhaps would have offered him shelter. He would have been miserable but he could have survived it. He had survived a lot worse anyways.

The first soldier turned to the woman that had brought them their ale. His eyes fell to her breasts that were on display. His lips curled into a terrifying grin. There wasn't much to bed a woman when one was constantly on the look out for a traitor. And he highly doubted the general would be stupid enough to walk into a town even as small as this. And even with the storm raging outside.

"Aye, we are," he said. His three companions were staring at her now as if she was a piece of meat and they all wanted to take a bite out of her. But not before their leader had a taste first. "You wouldn't believe how far we've traveled. All the way from the palace to your little outpost of a town. A shame to be hiding such a pretty thing like you here."

Aedion didn't know why the woman was doing this. It was so clear she was creating a distraction, giving him an opening to slip out the door. He knew she wasn't one to offer such provocative suggestions. Otherwise she would have done so with him. And yet she was putting herself on display for them so he could run. A kindness he wouldn't forget.

He stood from his table, silent as the wind. His footsteps didn't make a sound as he slithered his way towards the door. One step in front of another. He was almost to the door now. No one would notice if he opened the door and slipped right out. It would be so easy.

The soldier reached forward to touch her wrist. "How about you come around the counter honey and show me exactly how you mean to pick me up?" He was soaking wet from the rain. But while it had added to Aedion's beauty, if only made this soldier look more disgusting. More ugly. As if his very soul was on display.

He waited until she was around the bar before he grab her and pulled right onto his lap. With one hand fondling her, his other gripped his ale and took a large gulp from it, liquid splashing over the side and running down his chin.

"Now why don't you show us to a room and put your skills to use aye?" His men had a terrible, wicked gleam in their eyes. It had even just as long for them since they had been with a woman. And they wanted ti have their wicked ways with her, whether she wanted it or not. They were here on king's business. They could do as they pleased.

Emaria swallowed heavily at the look the men were giving her. Her heart pounded in her chest, and she prayed they couldn’t hear it. She would have sworn it was loud enough that they would have. To hide her newfound fear, she donned an expression of soft shock and awe, exactly what she knew these “high importance” soldiers would want to see. “All the way from the palace?” she asked, keeping her voice feminine and light. “That’s a very far journey. You must all be weary.”

Her eyes flicker briefly to Aedion as he rose, and she covered it well by doing a scan of the room. It took all of her energy to keep her fingers from shaking as the soldier she assumed to be their leader touched her wrist. Immediately, she felt dirty. His words made it even worse. But she didn’t particularly have a choice. Aedion needed to get out. Whatever information he found out had to be worth it, and Emaria had been through worse. If either of them had to get out of here, it would be him.

Her doe eyes met the soldiers, and she looked away shyly, a blush rising on her cheeks. “I’d love to, sir,” she murmured. The entire time, she had to pretend like the sight of him didn’t make her want to vomit over the entire counter.

As she made her way around, her eyes caught Gail’s. The other woman was staring at her in confusion and shock. There had to have been something else going on. Emaria had never acted like this before.

Emaria let herself gasp as she was dragged down into the soldier’s lap. Feeling the eyes of so many patrons on her, she lolled her head back as the man fondled her carelessly. Her eyes caught Aedion’s as he paused by the door. She mouthed Go to him and covered it up with a long moan. His ale splashed on her neck, and she jumped a bit, passing it off as surprise rather than disgust.

Another hard swallow made it’s way down her throat as Emaria’s eyes took in the greedy men surrounding her. Godsdamn her. How did she always get into these situations? “Yes, sir,” she breathed, casting a final glance toward the door before shakily rising to her feet. But as she headed for the stairs that led to the inn’s rooms, Gail intercepted her.

“Excuse me, gentlemen,” she greeted, curtsying respectfully as she eyes their insignias. “I’m afraid my barmaid isn’t yet done for the night. She still had work to do before she…” Her words trailed off hesitantly before she finished. “Services you.”

"Aye the palace." The soldier grinned at her. "I'll bet you've never seen something so fine in your life. A shame that you've been kept here. You'd do well in the capital." He didn't notice her eyes flickering to the traitor general behind him, nor did any of his other soldiers. They were too busy leering at the woman, practically panting to have a taste.

She responded well to him. He had no idea that the very sight of him disgusted her. Then again, he never really did know how to take a hint. But he was one of the king's guard and he could do as he pleased. Not even a "no" would stop him. Not when he had the permission of the king to do as he pleased.

His hand slipped from her chest down to her thigh, grabbing it much too roughly and would surly leave a mark. He liked to leave behind evidence of him. Marks and brushes and cuts. He liked to draw blood. He likes to hear then scream and cry as he did so. It only made him want to do more to them.

He was following after her as she got up, headed towards the stairs that led to the rooms of the inn. Until an older woman intercepted them and he sneered. He didn't take well to being interrupted. He didn't care how busy or slow it was. And he didn't care who this woman was. He wanted the girl and he would have her. "To deny me is to deny the king. And to deny the king is punishable by death. So unless you're wanting a turn yourself, though you're a little old for me, step away."

His grip on Emaria was bruising. He was holding her to his side, gripping her bicep. She was a little tall for his taste, but she was willing, for now, and it was so much easier to get them to bed than screaming and kicking.

Aedion paused at the door. He should go. He should take this opportunity and leave. Flee into the night and storm. They would never pick up his trail. Not with the water washing it away. But he knew these men. Knew of them. And knew what they were capable of. And he wouldn't leave Emaria to that fate. He was not a coward, despite being a fleeing traitor.

He quietly backed up to the table he had occupied and grabbed his mug of ale. He dumped the contents out without drawing attention to himself. Though it seemed as though most of the patrons were occupied on watching the soldiers, no one looked his way. Quietly, he pushed through the crowd until he made it to the bar. With a silent curse, he slammed his mug of ale on the counter, gathering the attention of everyone in the tavern.

"Another ale, girl." He looked pointedly at Emaria. "Some of us here are thirsty. Wait your turn, boys." One by one, the soldiers turned to face him. With a tug, his hood was falling off his head, revealing himself to these soldiers. It would end in their deaths either way for touching Emaria. He might as well let them know who would be killing them.

"You."

"Me." He had a wicked grin on his lips. "Release the girl and let's settle this." He wouldn't make a move until Emaria was out of the soldier's grip. He needed her to be out of harms way before attempting anything.

"Who? This?" The soldier dragged her in front of him, suddenly holding a knife to her throat. "But I was so looking forward to cutting her up. You've spoiled my fun now. I guess I'll have to make it up with you." The he pushed her towards Aedion and unsheathed his sword.

Aedion grabbed Emaria, pushing her behind him and out of harm's way. He dodged the swing of the sword, his daggers in his hands and cutting above the knees of one of the other soldiers. He would have no mercy. Not today.

Emaria smiled shyly and ducked her head. "Indeed you're right," she murmured, playing every bit of the naïve, innocent, flirtatious bartender they all thought her to be. "I've always dreamed of seeing the capital. Maybe one day." As her eyes lit up, she couldn't deny that some of the hope in her voice was genuine. "Really?"

But any and all hope there was quickly disappeared as he touched more of her body. The pained cry that left her lips wasn't fake. Emaria tensed immediately, and she bit down hard on her lip after. Everyone was staring, pity in their eyes for the doomed girl who had stupidly offered herself up to these vile soldiers. This was a mistake. Anything that these men did to her would be torture. She only prayed that whatever knowledge Aedion had would be worth it.

Emaria's heart raced at Gail's words. As much as they butted heads, the older woman did look out for her. Though the soldier's response made bile rise in Emaria's throat. Gail seemed to share the sentiment. She stiffened, her own lip curling in distaste, and reluctantly retreated a step back. Her eyes met Emaria's, and a look passed between them.

Though the half-fae woman hissed through her teeth and winced as the man's hold on her tightened to the point she knew it would leave a large bruise, likely within a few minutes. Instinctively, she pushed back against his hold, starting to protest what was happening. No one seemed to come to her aid, though the disgusted, sharp look in Gail's eyes told Emaria that the older woman wanted to.

She jumped along with the entire rest of the tavern as a glass was slammed on the table and yet another man demanded ale. Though as she heard the voice, her eyes widened. No. He should have been long gone by now. Fled into the woods and vanished without a trace. But as the soldier holding her turned, the face that greeted her was enough to make her gasp with relief. Her eyes met his, confusion and gratitude mixing in her gaze.

Emaria gritted her teeth as Aedion demanded her release. The sharp gasp that left her as she was dragged in front of the soldier was real, as was the immediate tensing of her entire body when the knife was brought to her throat. She inhaled sharply and swallowed instinctually. His words petrified her and made her realize exactly what Aedion had saved her from. She would be in his debt for years just for this single moment.

Her body was wired, so she stumbled as he shoved her toward her new savior. Fluidly, she was guided behind Aedion, though she immediately protested. She could help! But the young general, or former general, was already swinging. SHe watched, waiting until the right moment to call on her magic. She was determined to help him. He had definitely just saved her life.

(I suck at writing fighting scenes so bare with me haha XD)

Aedion didn't dare look at her. Not as the knife was held to her beautiful neck, cutting in. Not even as he saw a droplet of blood ooze out of the cut the soldier had made as he pushed her forward. He didn't dare take his focus away from the soldiers. He knew the moment he did they woukd strike and he would be doomed. He wasn't a general for nothing.

Once Emaria was pushed behind him, he only hoped she had the sense to stay out if the way. Though seeing as how she liked danger, given she had just dangled herself in front of men who would rather carve her up then protect her, he didn't think her self preservation was all that good.

Four against one. He had faced worse odds. And he was armed to the teeth with daggers and a sword. And a bow but that wouldn't be useful for him here. He wanted to prevent as much collateral damage as possible. He only hoped that the drunken patrons were smart ebeough to stay out of the way. Or flee.

He needed to be quick and fast with the four of them. After striking at one he needed to dodge and strike at another. There was a cut on his arm that was burning and his nose was bleeding from the punch he had recieved. But he didn't stop and he didn't back down.

He moved faster than should have been humanly possible. He was more agile than he should be given his height and sheer size. But years of honing and perfecting his form had allowed him to move as such.

He blocked and parried and feigned. Two soldiers were down, leaving the leader and his right hand left. With a quick jab of his dagger through the ribs, it was just down to Aedion and the leader. All this and he hadn't even drawn his sword yet. All he held were two long daggers in his hands.

He wanted this to be over quickly. His oppent didn't. "You're supposed to be brought back alive," the soldier sneered, wiping the blood off of his face and smearing it. "I don't know what the king wants with you other than your head. But I'm sure he'll forgive me for killing you myself."

"I wouldn't be so sure of that." Aedion knew better than most of the king's forgiveness. In that he had none. He was brutal and callous. And it was about time for him to die.

The soldier lunged forward, bringing his sword down in an overhead attack. He used his daggers to defelct while stepping out of the way of the blow. He jabbed with his right dagger, catching the skin of the soldier's abdomen as he hadn't quite moved put of the way.

The soldier roared. He was angry. Very angry. Good. Anger made men stupid. And it would make him easier to kill. Aedion fell into a defensive position, blocking and defeltcing blow after blow. He was waiting for the soldier to tire out. And he had to admit, he was enjoying messing with him a little bit. After what he had done and planned to do to Emaria, he wanted to skin him alive. Unfortunately, he didn't have time for that.

It was when the soldier's sword pierced his right arm, his good amr, that he was finally done playing around. In a swift motion, he sheathed his daggers and drew his sword. While he was dominate in his right, he had trained his left to be just as proficient.

It took all of three moves to cut off the soldier's head. It rolled about two feet, bumping against a drunken patron's foot. Aedion didn't really care as the man vomited. He used one of the soldier's cloaked to clean his blade before sheathing it.

(Bestie, it's really good! I can picture it clearly ;))

Once she was safely behind Aedion, Emaria felt something trickle down her neck. She reached up slowly, touching her fingertips lightly against her skin, and to her horror, they came away red. The bastard had nicked her with his blade. Her eyes narrowed, and she stood up straighter.

The only sense of self-preservation Emaria had was if she was truly in life-or-death danger. She was a very self-sacrificing person, just like both of her parents were. It ran in her family, along with skills with a blade and magical abilities.

The second the sword was drawn, most of the patrons had fled. The ones who were too drunk to do much other than groan to themselves and the ones who didn't want to soak their clothes in the rain were the only ones who stayed. Them and Emaria, Valerie, and Gail. The older woman quickly pulled the two girls back behind the bar. Much to her annoyance, Emaria kept peeking up and watching the battle unfold.

"Emaria!" Gail hissed at one point. "Get down here! You've endangered yourself enough for one day."

But the half-fae female's eyes were glazed with awe as she watched Aedion move with such fluid grace and precision. His weapons struck true every time. It was a wonder to watch such a man fight. Everything he did connected from one move to another and the next.

The words they exchanged didn't go over Emaria's head either. She watched as Aedion manipulated the leader's emotions, getting him riled up and angry to wear him out. Her eyes stayed locked on the younger man and widened as he took a blow to the arm. But then he drew his sword, and Emaria knew it was over. The soldier's head on the floor was no surprise to her, but when Valerie peeked over the bartop too, her face contorted immediately, and she covered her mouth.

Emaria rose to her feet and moved slowly around the counter. She barely batted an eyelash at the carnage before her, and she approached him just as he was sheathing his blade. "That was impressive," she said simply. "But we need to go now."

With the adrenaline pumping through his veins, he barely felt the sting of his wounds. Blood was dripping down his nose but he didn't think it was broken. He should know, he had broken it enough in his life. His lip was also split and in the morning his face woukd be sporting a few bruises for sure. His nose and under his eyes from the blow, his lip, and a spot on his jaw where a fist had connected.

There was a cut on his left arm. He didn't think it was deep enough for stitches but he wouldn't be able to tell until he addressed all of his wounds. There was a shallow cut on his side, nothing of consequence. But the worst of them all was the stab wound on his right arm. It was an inch below his shoulder. Luckily the wound was clean cut and he didn't suspect any potions on the blade. The shoulders hadn't been expecting to find him this evening.

He raised a hand and wiped the blood off of his face, only succeeding in smearing it on his face. The tavern had emptied out except for the staff and a fee drunken blokes who were too intoxicated to move. He wasn't quite sure if one was breathing as he had collapsed in his own vomit. He made a face. This was why he didn't drink much. He didn't like the way it made him feel. One, maybe two, and that was enough for him.

He swivled around to see Emaria aporaching him. His eyebrows were drawn in confusion. "I need to go, not you. Join your coworkers behind the bar and stay there. When soldiers come through, and they will, cooperate with them. Or they will do things so much worse to you than what these men would have done."

He looked at all of them as he spoke. He would not ask for loyalty and silence from men and women he had only just met, even if he had just saved them. It would be easier on them if they cooperated and gave him up. Not that he would tell them where he was going. The knowledge they knew so did the king.

Emaria's eyes surveyed his injuries. There were very few things she wouldn't be able to heal within a minute or two – that nasty slash on his arm for one. But she couldn't do it here. Not in the middle of such a crowded room, even if the crowd had dwindled and whoever was left would barely even have a conscious mind to remember the moment by.

She watched as Aedion smeared the soldiers' blood over his face, and a quiet whimper came from behind her. Emaria automatically assumed it was Valerie since Gail had never made such a noise before in her entire life.

The confusion on his face was expected as he turned to her, but the half-fae had chosen her words carefully. She had every intention of coming with him, even as he denied her. "Sorry, but no," she immediately countered. "I'm coming with you. There's no way I'm staying here."

Valerie's eyes widened at both Aedion's warning and Emaria's declaration. "Em," she whispered. "You can't leave! What about… What about Tol Gaten? Your whole life is here! Everything…"

Emaria turned, and where Valerie's expression was trembling, Gail's was firm.

"I think you should go," the older woman encouraged plainly. Her gaze slid to Aedion, assessing him with a rigid stare. "You'd be a fool not to take her with you. The girl has a knack for surviving. And she's been desperate to leave since she could ride her own horse. Though…" Her grey stare softened slightly as she looked back at Emaria. "Your mother will have a fit. Your father too. Don't just disappear."

Giving Gail a small nod, Emaria looked back at Aedion with a subtle grin appearing on her face. "Come on. I owe you a life debt. Let me make this journey with you, wherever it is that you're actually going." Quieter, she added, "General Aedion."

It took everything in Aedion not to roll his eyes as he heard the whimper. Another reason he preferred the company of his soldiers instead of civilians. They couldn't handle the brutality of life. None of his soldiers would have blinked at the blood on his face and yet the sight was sending a woman into a whimpering mess.

"And why should I take you?" He said slowly. "Have you ever left this place before? Been on the run? Been hunted? Do you have any survival skills?" There were so many more reasons not to take her with him. She would only slow him down and be a hinder to his journey. Time was not on his side and he needed to hurry.

His eyes slid over to the old woman than back to Emaria. He looked her up and down slowly, calculating. "This isn't just about survival," he practically growled. "Lives depend on this millions of lives depend on me. And I will not have anyone slowing me down."

Although his wounds just might do that for him. As the adrenaline began to wear, the pain was beginning to seep into him. It took everything in him to keep standing. His arm was killing him where he had been cut through. And he was tired of tasting the metallic blood from his nose.

"You saved me so I saved you. I see no debt owed." She had been brave to try and distract the solders to allow him to run. He had only returned the favor. Nothing was owed, especially not a life debt.

He stepped closer to her. His fingers brushed along the hair covering her ears. "Can you keep up, fae?" He murmured, his voice as quiet as her had been. Of course he had noticed. She tried hard to cover it up, but she tried too hard. And he had noticed almost right away that something was different about her. It wasn't until she kept fiddling with the hair covering her ears that he guessed. He only hoped he assumed right.

Emaria pressed her lips together and straightened. "I haven't," she admitted. "But my father is a mercenary. He's taught me about most weapons, including several of yours."

She watched the way he paid attention to Gail, then back to her. Her eyebrows arched then at his growl. He was determined to be alone. She'd have to prove him wrong, then. Whatever information he had must be valuable… and dangerous. "Obviously," she agreed. "However, I'm not just anyone. And I won't slow you down."

The flickers of his pain began to reach her own mind. Emaria had taken his wounds into consideration over the past few seconds, and she came to the conclusion that she could, in fact, heal him. It would take about twenty minutes, but he'd be good as new and ready to keep going.

The woman gave him a once-over and shrugged. "Fair enough. But really, I didn't save you. You didn't even run." Inclining her head slightly, she asked, "Why didn't you run? It would have been far easier for you if you had."

Emaria kept her cool as he stepped closer. But when he reached up and brushed his fingers along her hair, her eyes widened and her cheeks turned pink. She swallowed and licked her lips absently. Damn… how had he guessed? Her hair hadn't shifted in all the chaos, had it? He might have caught a glimpse of the pointed tips. But… Emaria also knew she carried herself differently than humans did. And knowing that this man was or had at least been the youngest general in the king's army, she expected nothing less than awareness no typical person was capable of.

"Of course, I can," she replied quietly. "And technically, I'm half-fae."

"Interesting," he murmured. Aedion had come across a few mercenaries in his life, hired and hunted. He wondered if he would recognize her father. Or at least have heard of him. He was a well knowledgeable man. At least when it came to fighting.

And no, she wasn't just anyone. He could see the fire burning in her heart, the blaze reaching her eyes. There was a longing to, a longing for adventure. But he wasn't here to give her an adventure. He was here on urgency. The news he carried would be life or death for the kingdom kn their southern border. Speed was his alley and time his enemy. And he had none to waste.

"Perhaps I should have run. It would have saved me the headache that you are. But I know what those men would have done to you. They would have flayed the skin from your body while they took you forcibly." His fist clenched as his side at the thought of it. "No one deserves that fate, not even someone as annoying as you are."

He was going to regret this. He already was. It was a mistake letting someone come with him. Another person he would have to look out for and feed and protect. Another person he woukd need to purchase supplies for. Someone he woukd need to teach to truly survive out in the wilderness. And it would cost him time.

But maybe it was the loneliness in his heart that wanted a companion. Or perhaps it was the blaze in her eyes. Maybe it was the way she didn't blink at the massacre he had done. Or maybe it was because even he knew she was meant for more in life than what this little town had to offer her.

He was silent for a moment, searching her eyes for any doubt. But at last he spoke, "You have twenty minutes to pack your things and say goodbye. A minute more and I will leave your ass here."

Emaria smirked. She was hoping on the mention of her father providing her with a bit more of a chance to win over Aedion. Sometime soon, he'd likely question her exactly who her father was. And she'd tell him plainly. Then he'd see that she wasn't some weakling girl who had a penchant for mischief and escaping the ordinary. She had adventure inherited into her blood.

She scoffed quietly at his words. "You're not the first person who's said those words," she quipped with a grin. That grin faded as he continued speaking. Gail exhaled sharply from behind her, and the woman's thoughts were so strong they almost immediately flooded Emaria's mind. Her eyes widened slightly, but she nodded. "Then I have more to thank you for than I realize," she murmured before adding, "I hope you know I'm taking that as a compliment."

Her eyes showed no doubt, but they widened in surprise and excitement at his words. She quickly calmed herself and offered a simple nod instead. "Twenty minutes," she repeated. Then, she turned to Gail and Valerie. "Bye," she whispered, but Gail was already reaching for her. While Emaria wrapped her arms around the older woman, Valerie joined the hug briefly before it broke apart.

"Give them hell, Mar," Valerie whispered.

Emaria only winked before rushing out of the tavern. She ran quickly through the streets and burst into her house with reckless abandon. The kind that often got her in trouble. Just like now. She was wholly unprepared for the blast of magic that knocked her back against the wall, stealing the breath from her lungs for a moment. If she wasn't so used to it, the feeling would have petrified her. But as she looked up, her mother was rounding the corner from the kitchen to the entryway, her eyes alight with her power.

Seeing Emaria, Farah blinked quickly. "Emaria?" she demanded, rushing over. "What's the matter with you? Why did you come flying through the door like that?"

"No time," Emaria gasped, shoving herself to her feet and sprinting to her room. Immediately, she grabbed the biggest pack she owned and began to fill it with clothes, a book, and a few keepsakes.

Farah was hot on her heels. "What do you mean no time?" she demanded, watching the whirlwind that identified as he daughter rush around the room. "What are you doing? Where are you going?"

"Away," Emaria replied. Farah reached out and grasped her daughter's arm tightly – right where the soldier had. Emaria couldn't help the cry of pain she let out, and Farah quickly let go. But she moved fast to push up the shortened sleeve of Emaria's blouse, and her eyes widened at the mark that was already bruising.

"Goddess," she breathed. "What happened?"

Emaria shook her head. "I swear I'll explain sometime. But right now, I have to leave." She threw her last few things into her bag including shoes, a hairbrush, and a small pressed flower. "I can't tell you why."

Farah's expression tightened. "You know I can't possibly let you," she replied, tilting her head and hoping that Emaria would see reason for once in her life.

For the first time since Aedion had told her twenty minutes, Emaria full on paused of her own free will. "I'm sorry, but you don't have a say in this one," she murmured. "I love you, and I need to go."

She moved around Farah and hurried back out into the rain. The sound of a door shutting behind her made her groan. Footsteps squelching in the mud behind her only confirmed her annoyance.

"Just tell me where you're going," Farah insisted. "You know your father is away. What am I suppose to do if he comes back and you completely vanished?"

Emaria shook her head and made a beeline for the Steel Candle. "Tell him I'll see him in the afterlife."

"That's not funny!" Farah cried out. "Just tell me-" Her words were cut off as Emaria slammed open the door of the tavern and grinned victoriously at Aedion.

"I made it," she gasped out. "Let's go." Her wet hair hung around her face, but just like Aedion, it only added to her beauty. Farah's own hair and clothes were soaked as well, but she looked immaculate. Like mother, like daughter.

"Wait, who are you?" Farah demanded, her brown stare sharpened and focused on Aedion now. "Where are you going?"

(Here's Farah, for reference)

(I've seen the Winx club XD)

Aedion watched with a smirk as Emaria hurried around the tavern, hugging the women in the tavern before hurrying out of the door. He would have laughed had he not been in company. As he waited for her to return, he walked behind the bar and grabbed himself another ale. He had dumped his first out. He took a couple sips before shaking his head and setting it down. Nope, not better the second time.

By the time Emaria had returned, he had taken a seat at the bar, back to the barrels of ale and facing the door. He didn't get up, not right away as she came through with her pack. Not when he could hear the woman following her. And it was a woman based on the lightness of her steps.

He turned his gaze to the woman, her mother. They looked so much alike. He sheathed the knife he had been playing with on the counter and finally got to his feet. He towered over her. He was tall, even for a man.

"I'm the man taking your daughter out if this wasteland. Her gifts ate wasted out here. You know that as well as I do." He wouldn't very well give away his identity. But he wouldn't sugarcoat the truth either. He was getting Emaria out of it. And likely regret it sooner rather than later.

"I suggest you say goodbye to your daughter. We're leaving, now." The rain had begun to lighten up but there was no sign of it stopping any time soon.

(I’m definitely not obsessed as all hell with Farah Dowling… 😅 and Emaria is definitely not my OC for her daughter…)

By the time Emaria had returned to the tavern, Valerie and Gail had gone elsewhere. The drunk folks were all passed out now, and so the room was void of people except for Emaria herself and Aedion. Well, and now Farah as well.

Farah eyed the knife Aedion had been casually manipulating, and she didn’t back down as he approached her and dwarfed her with his height. She was also rather tall for a woman. But his words struck her. Farah blinked and took a step back out of shock. She knew the truth. That didn’t mean she liked it.

“I’ve only tried to protect her,” she countered, shivering from the cold and subtly warming herself with fire magic. “She’s always been safe here. I won’t risk that. I’m not willing.”

“I am,” Emaria snipped back. “I’ll be fine.”

Farah’s gut wrenched. “Emaria,” she whispered. “Please don’t do this.” It was the mother’s final plea, but her daughter shook her head.

“I can’t stay here,” she whispered. “I think we all know that.” With that, Emaria wrapped her arms tightly around Farah. Tears sprang to her eyes, unwelcome and uninvited. “I love you.”

Farah held Emaria tightly in her arms. “I love you too,” she whispered back, smoothing Emaria’s hair with her fingers. “Please darling… be careful..

(Haha not obsessed at all XD)

Aedion looked at Farah then at Emaria. "And yet all you've managed to do is stifle her. Look at her. She works in tavern where men Leer at her and stare down her cleavage." Some parent she was. This was not protection. This wasn't even living.

He crossed his arm, biceps buldging, until his wounds barked in pain too much for him to ignore. His arms dropped and his hand reached up to staunch the bleeding where he had been run through. He hissed through hos teeth jn pain. He had recieved worse but that didn't mean it didn't hurt like a bitch.

He took a step forward to Emaria's side after she had released her mother. He looked down at her then at the older version of her. "You will see her again. This isn't good yet forever."

Or at least he hoped it wouldn't be. He had every intentions of bringing her back home. Whether it take months or years, he would return her back to her mother's waiting arms. Their journey would be done and he would be rid of her. She would be free to do as she pleased. And her adventures after would be up to her.

"We must go. Every second we delay, the closer soldiers will get to catching us. I'd rather not have another repeat of earlier." He didn't want to stay here any longer than necessary. Where there was one group of soldiers, there would likely be more coming. And when they didn't check in, they woukd come looking. It wouldn't be hard to figure that it had been he who had caused their death. And especially when they questioned the people, they would learn that Aedion had been here.

Farah straightened and blinked quickly. “You don’t understand why I’ve made the decisions I’ve made,” she replied evenly. She could come up with no additional response that wouldn’t be utterly condemning. So she settled for an apologetic look in her daughter’s direction.

Her eyes snared on his vicious wound. She would have offered to heal it, but her hand stayed firmly at her side. Emaria could heal him. He’d obviously been kinder to her, since he wasn’t questioning her lifestyle choices.

Farah, however, smiled sadly at the man’s words. “If only that were true,” she murmured. Her fingers caressed Emaria’s hair one last time before letting go. “Once she gets a taste of the world, she’ll never be back here.”

“Well, now you said it out loud so it can’t come true,” Emaria teased. She kissed Farah’s cheek softly. With her lips close to her mother’s ear, she whispered, “When the soldiers come, you hide. Don’t worry about the house or anything. Just hide. Stay away until they’ve completely gone. Please.”

Farah’s expression melted into soft shock, but she nodded. “Alright,” she agreed. She gave one last quick hug before stepping back. “Go,” she urged, pain in her voice. “Or I won’t be able to let you leave.”

Emaria laughed quietly before stepping back out into the rain. She glanced over her shoulder, not daring to meet her mother’s eyes and instead looking up at Aedion. “Lead the way,” she said determinedly.

Aedion didn't know nor particularly cared. Nor did he really want this woman to be joining him either. But something about her called to him and he new better than to ignore a gut feeling. It's what has kept him alive all these years. He always listened to his intuition.

He would make sure she came back. He would personally dliever her to her mother's doorstep if he had to. But she would be coming back when he was sure it was safe enough to do so. And when his services were no longer needed. He was a great strategist and he knew everything about the army. He knew all their military tactics and their strengths and weapons. He also knew their weaknesses and planned to exploit them.

He followed behind Emaria to the tavern door. He nodded his head and said quietly, "This is not the end. You will see her again." Even if he had ti drag her back kicking and screaming. He woukd be rid of her eventually.

"The soldiers didn't come here on foot. They would have rode in. We're going ti the stables and we're taking their mounts." No way was he walking when there was the possibility of riding. His feet were sore from weeks of travel.

He headed to the stables which was across town. Walking inside was a brief relief from the rain pelting down on them. Not that it would last long. He looked through the stalls until he found the horses that beamed the royals symbol. He unlocked one, guiding the horse out. He ripped the royal insignia off the saddle before putting on the horse.

They were Arabian horses. Expensive and brilliant breeds. They would serve them well. He brought out the second horse, doing the same as he had for the first.

"We need to put as much distance from here as possible. We'll try to look for shelter but I won't feel comfortable until we've put a few miles in between us." He mounted his horse. He didn't offer her any help. He knew she could do it on her own.