by K. L. Thorne
The troop had walked in silence for hours, a heavy atmosphere between them. Lephas could still feel anger prickling at him.
“We're going to need to find a spot to camp,” Lephas replied, glancing at the steadily darkening sky. “If we can get back to that farm house we passed, I figure that will be a good spot. We can't be far off it now.”
“Sounds like a plan. She's been unconscious since we picked her up. That head wound needs attention,”
“I'm relieved at least you agree with me. It concerns me, Haros. Is it any wonder Hestaesia is in pieces? Even the king's own men are heartless.” Lephas sighed.
“They're just mindless grunts, Lephas. Lowly soldiers,” Haros countered. “You know Zelrus is wholly behind campaigning for peace.”
“Yes, but what use is it if the rest of them hunger for revenge and bloodshed? ...Or worse. I have full faith in Zelrus and his plan. I just hope he can convince the rest of the population to follow.”
“Our people have suffered greatly at the hands of faeries. Hell, even I have struggled with the concept of peace on occasion! I admire you and Zelrus – you make it all sound so easy.” Haros laughed.
“It's the easiest and most difficult thing in the world.” The commander glanced over his shoulder at the subdued demon soldiers following on. The youngest, who was still carrying the comatose princess, avoided his gaze. “They're getting tired.”
“How far from the farm house are we?”
“Not far at all.” Lephas pointed into the distance. Though the snow had finally stopped falling, the frozen forest was now encased in a thick mist. A dark shape loomed ahead – the abandoned farm house.
Haros whistled and turned to address the four soldiers. “We stop ahead.”
“I am loath to light a fire, it’s a bit of a risk but she might freeze to death if we don’t. Besides, I'll need light to look at that head wound.”
“Yes, she's only a slip of a thing, isn't she?” Haros mused. “Not much meat on her to keep her warm. I suppose her ridiculous clothing isn’t much help, either. Honestly, I know faeries aren't exactly known for their outdoor survival skills – why would they need to be, tucked up safe and warm in their castles – but come on...”
“She should be thankful we found her when we did. She'd never have lasted a night out here on her own,” Lephas agreed with a laugh.
“Zelrus's information wasn't wholly correct though, was it? I thought we were out here looking for some child. I'd put her in her early twenties, at least.” Haros continued.
“To be fair, they did say she could be anywhere between thirteen and thirty,” Lephas argued. “I just can't believe it's been that long since the princesses were born. If this one is in fact Lori, the middle Goldwyrm daughter, that means her sisters are around the same age as well. I had it in my mind that they were still children.”
Lephas had already been a young lad when he'd heard about those girls being born... That made him feel old.
Haros grinned. “They grow up so fast. And fine too, apparently.”
“Don't you bloody start!” Lephas chastised.
“I'd never dream of it – Zelrus would cut off my balls if I dared. But you have to admit it too... Don't you agree she's a nice piece?”
“I didn't really notice,” Lephas lied, feeling his gut tighten.
It had been the only thing he had noticed. He'd barely been able to keep his eyes off her. Though he'd had plenty of experience with their male counterparts in battle, he had never really seen a female faerie up close before.
Her skin had been so pale and smooth, hair like spun gold.
Lephas shook himself; he just had to get her back to Zelrus. He was sure the infatuation would wear off. She was just so different from any woman he had ever seen.
“Come on, let's get her inside.” Lephas strode forwards.
At the door to the old cottage, Haros reached for the handle. Locked.
“Shall I do the honours?” He grinned at Lephas, who nodded.
With a small run up, Haros put his shoulder through the door. It flew violently off its hinges, showering him with cobwebs and debris. He coughed and swiped the dust away.
“It's grotty in here, but it's unoccupied and dry.” He turned to the group, beckoning them inside.
Lephas turned to Karn and motioned for him to stay at the door. The wolf was more than robust enough to sleep outside and he would be sure to alert them if anyone approached in the night. The animal sat and contently scratched his face with his back paw.
Lephas followed his men into the house.
Though demons were much stronger and hardier than faeries in cold conditions, Lephas could no longer feel his toes. He was looking forward to resting and warming up and he was sure the others were too. Though the journey they had made was not far in distance, the snow made it a gruelling task.
“Get to lighting a fire. You, bring the girl through here,” he instructed the soldier who was carrying the faerie and wandered through the living space to the back of the cottage where he was sure he would find a bedroom.
Opening a door revealed an old, mouldy, hay-stuffed mattress that had long since disintegrated around the rusty iron bed frame it had once sat proud upon. A mouse squeaked from somewhere nearby.
“This will do.” Lephas nodded and reached for the iron manacles that were attached to his belt. “Lay her down near the fireplace and I'll pop these on her, just in case she gets any ideas about escaping.”
The soldier let the girl slide off his shoulder. She didn't rouse but scowled and groaned.
“Though it looks like she won't be going anywhere soon.” Lephas sighed. He made quick work of attaching the manacles – one set around her impossibly small wrists and another around her ankles. “If there's any wooden furniture in the house, break it down. We'll use that as kindling. We won't find anything dry outside tonight.”
“Yes, sir.” The soldier hastily left the room, leaving Lephas and the faerie alone.
He took a moment to regard her in the privacy of the dark, gloomy bedroom. Her head wound had worsened; dark crimson streaked her skin and dried in clumps in her hair. Her pretty face was contorted into a pained frown.
Lephas reached out to smooth the hair from her face. The faerie sighed as he touched her and the commander startled, retracting his hand immediately. His heart pounded in his chest.
No, no, no – this was not good. Lephas jumped to his feet and dusted himself off. He strode quickly from the room and shut the door behind himself before he could glance back at her.
Despite being frozen from his arduous journey through the snow, Lephas felt the heat of embarrassment rising in his face. He cleared his throat and ran a hand over one of his horns thoughtfully.
Why did the most beautiful woman he had ever seen have to be a faerie? He glowered in the dark hallway. It was just his luck.
“Hey, Lephas!” Haros called out from the kitchen. Lephas took a deep breath to calm himself before going to meet his friend.
“What?” he asked, surveying the scene. Haros and one of the soldiers were cleaning off a small section of an old wooden kitchen table to lay their possessions on. Two of the others were dutifully smashing up any smaller wooden furniture for a fire.
“How is she?” Haros asked, unstrapping his sword from across his shoulder. He laid it out flat on the table.
“Alive – just about. That wound has worsened; her head is quite bloodied. She's still unconscious, but I've got the manacles on her now. Just in case.”
“Good to hear. You know that lighting a fire will draw in anyone looking for her, don't you?” Haros asked, unpacking some rations from one of the bags. The choice of foodstuffs was slim, consisting of anything that would survive a few days in the wilderness and could be eaten with little preparation needed: hard, dried fruits, meat jerky and some biscuits.
“I am aware and I don't want to do it, but I don't see much other choice. She's cold as a stone. Besides, I'm cold too. I'm sure we could all do wi
th warming up before we have to head back out there.” Lephas unstrapped his own sword, placing it with the others.
“I hear you. It's been bitter out there today. I guess we'll just have to be on our guard. Sleeping in shifts might not be a bad idea.” Haros nodded.
“Agreed. Let the men sleep first – I'll take the first shift. I'm going to see if I can get anything out of our prisoner whilst I tend to her.”
Haros shot him a knowing look and raised an eyebrow.
“...What?!” Lephas snapped, feeling a scowl deepening on his brow. He fought to contain the tell-tale warmth creeping up his neck once again.
“Nothing, I didn't say anything.” Haros grinned, putting his palms up in surrender. “I was just wondering if perhaps I wasn't the only one to notice how attractive the little dove is after all.”
“Don't be ridiculous,” Lephas spat.
He quickly began gathering food – for two – and some first aid supplies. They hadn't brought much with them, but there was a simple kit that he could use to patch the worst of her injury for now until they got back to Banesteppe.
“Guess it was my imagination then.” Haros sighed, still grinning even after Lephas shot him a venomous look.
“You! Get that kindling into the back bedroom,” the commander shouted, taking his embarrassment out on an unsuspecting soldier.
The young boy fumbled to gather the snapped chair legs and other miscellaneous wood they had found, nearly tripping in his haste to get clear of Lephas's gaze.
The commander quickly scanned the dusty kitchen shelves. Whoever had lived here previously had left in a hurry, or, more unnervingly, hadn't realised they wouldn't be coming back. Most of their possessions still stood as they had left them, but now they were covered in a thick layer of dust.
As he moved a few jars, a dark, unlabelled bottle caught his eye. Lephas picked it up and pulled the stopper free with a faint pop, leaning in to sniff the contents.
Whisky – an old one. He resealed the bottle and wiped the dust from its neck, appraising it. That would be a nice warm-up for when they were out in the snow. He carefully slid the bottle inside his pack.
He spotted a metal pot that would be suitable for heating water and added that to his supplies before following the soldier back into the bedroom.
The princess was still lying on the dusty floor where he had left her. She had begun to shiver, her teeth chattering and the metal of her restraints clinking quietly.
Lephas watched silently from the doorway, leaning his shoulder against the frame as the soldier made short work of setting the kindling up in the old, abandoned fireplace. He grabbed a few handfuls of the old hay from the mattress and struck a match. The filling caught alight quickly. The soldier carefully placed the small flame underneath the wood and knelt forward to blow air onto it.
It wasn't long until the flame had taken hold and the crackling fire had grown to fill the small fireplace.
“I'll gather some extra kindling for you, sir. Enough to last the night.” The soldier bowed his head.
“Thank you.” Lephas dipped his own head in a small nod. He moved to allow the boy to leave and, once he was alone, took a few tentative steps towards the faerie.
He placed his pack and supplies down beside her. He carefully unstrapped a thin, rolled-up mattress from his bag and unfurled it. They didn't have any spares. He knew by rolling this one out for the girl he would be going without.
With a dry mouth, he scooped one hand under her neck and the other under her knees. She groaned, but he easily lifted her onto the padded roll of material and placed her closer to the fire. At least she would get a chance to warm up there.
He knew he shouldn't be as concerned as he was. He knew he should remind himself of why they had captured the girl – she was a daughter of Lazuli, the faerie king. The same faerie king who had killed Tennul Dawnoaken – the late demon king and his friends' father – and indirectly his own father, who had gone to fight in a rebellion after Tennul fell.
Lephas knew this, but he couldn't seem to focus on it in that moment.
The commander grabbed the metal pot he had found and got to his feet, heading to a small, filthy window in the corner of the room.
The panes were so dirty, he could barely see through them, and the hinges were rusted shut. With a little force, it eventually opened with a loud creak. Lephas leaned out and gathered a few handfuls of snow from the window ledge and packed it tightly into the pot.
Pulling the window shut once more, he walked back to the fire and placed the pot down so it was almost sat in the embers.
He waited patiently for the snow to melt and boil. Lephas fought to keep his eyes off the faerie girl lying in front of him but failed miserably.
He noticed that she had adorned her small, pointed ears with piercings, and had another in her nose that had a small jewel in it. She probably didn't realise that he could purchase a year's worth of mead with that tiny jewel alone back in Banesteppe.
Perhaps, once she was conscious, she would let him convince her to remove it before they entered the city. The demons there would be suspicious enough as it was, without flaunting her wealth in front of them.
Colour had begun to return to her face. Though still pale, a healthier blush had risen into her cheeks. Her lips had lost their blue hue and returned to an inviting rosy pink.
Lephas was relieved when the water began to bubble and he had a reason to tear his eyes away from her. He carefully pulled the pot out of the fire and left it to stand on the cool slate floor of the cottage. He removed his thick gloves.
Lephas dipped a spare scrap of cloth bandage into the water and waited for it to cool a little. He swallowed and shuffled closer to the faerie on his knees, taking a breath to steady himself before reaching in to dab the cloth against her head.
At first there was no reaction. Lephas just focussed on cleaning the blood from the girl's face, but as he gained confidence and began cleaning closer to the head wound, she began to stir.
“Wh–?” she groaned, but didn't open her eyes.
“Don't move. I'm trying to clean you up,” Lephas spoke, his voice tight and gravelly, sounding foreign to him. He cleared his throat.
“Wh–where am I?” she mumbled.
“You hit your head when you fell in the snow. I'm just trying to clean your wound. You're safe,” he answered, trying to pretend he couldn't see his hand shaking as he dabbed at her.
“The snow? Oh yes, the demons... Where did they go?” Her words were slow and sleepy.
“Uh, don't worry about that for now,” Lephas hedged.
“Good. Monstrous beasts.”
Lephas scowled, his hand pausing mid-daub.
Monstrous... Guess that meant the attraction was going to be strictly one-sided. He shouldn't have been so disappointed to hear it, he supposed.
Clearly wondering why he had stopped cleaning her, the princess opened her eyes. Her unnervingly bright azure irises locked on his own dark gaze. After a few long seconds, she leapt up.
“What is the meaning of this?!” She scrambled away from Lephas as fast as she was able to in her manacles, until she had her back to the wall of the bedroom. Her chest began to heave with panic.
“Calm down, you're safe.” Lephas sighed and placed the rag carefully back into the pot of water.
“Safe?!” She gaped. “Are you joking?”
“You're alive, aren't you? Something you wouldn't have been for much longer if we hadn't picked you up, I can assure you,” Lephas snapped, feeling another deep scowl forming on his face.
“You can assure me of nothing,” she retorted. “Where am I? Who are you?” She cast her eyes nervously over his horns.
“You're in an abandoned farm cottage with my men and I. My name is Lephas – I'm part of a special group sent by King Zelrus Dawnoaken to retrieve you,” he explained, feeling his ire rising.
She laughed hollowly. “King Zelrus? Now I know you're joking! There's only one king of these lands, and tha
t's–”
“Princess. If you value your life, you won't dare speak his name in front of me,” Lephas interrupted. The anger bubbling beneath must have been visible in his expression. The faerie observed him warily.
“What do you want with me?” she asked quietly, still curled up in the dark, dusty corner.
“We will be taking you back to my king. I'm sure he will have many questions for you,” Lephas answered simply.
“And after that?”
“I don't know.”
“...So, you know who I am?” She relaxed a little and her eyes lost their wild, panicked look. “You called me princess just now.”
“Princess Lori Goldwyrm.”
“'Your Highness', to you.” Lori stuck her nose up snootily.
“I'll call you what I please. You're no royal to me,” Lephas growled, surprised when the little faerie glowered back at him.
“Get back on the mat,” he instructed, rising to his feet.
“Or what?” she goaded.
“Or I drag you back onto it.”
“Alright, but only because the fire is there and I'm freezing.” Lori rolled her eyes at him before steadily crawling back across the room. Once she was comfortable, she examined the manacles.
“Before you ask, they're staying on.” Lephas crossed his arms.
“Did I say anything?” Lori replied, her tone short. She quickly ran her eyes over him. “What are you, anyway? Some sort of half-breed?”
Lephas snorted. “A half-breed? Half of what?”
“Well, I don't know, but you're not wholly demon, are you?” she replied haughtily. “Where's all the disgusting patchy fur, the slime and the poison claws? ...And you don't have fangs.”
Lori jumped and shuffled away as Lephas suddenly dropped and crouched to look at her.
“I don't know what books you've been reading, Princess, but I can assure you I'm all demon.” He fixed her with a glare. “And I do so have fangs.”
He snapped his teeth at her, making sure to flash the lengthy incisors.
“Y-you mean... All demons look like you?” she asked warily. Maybe it was just because she was sat near the fire again, but Lephas could have sworn the princess looked flushed... Embarrassed?