Back to the Basics

There was a part of him, distant and oh so vague as to barely be noticeable that knew what he was doing was wrong. That while it had been a slight against everything he was, a blatant disregard for who he was, that none else had heard it save for the Fallen who had already heard him insulted far worse. Had in fact been one of those to throw the most inventive slurs in his direction one time when they had taken to the drink together. For a second his hand would have stayed, but then the royal within him demanded retribution. His pride demanded it's fair pound of flesh. The darkness that flooded through his veins marking him in that moment as nothing but pure nightmare, he relished the pain, embraced the despair he knew to be causing the other male. Or at least was until the world exploded in a sudden wall of force hitting him head on and somehow, unbelievably rocking him to his knees.

As if the webs of Fate itself had foreseen this and merely had the three bodies acting as pawns upon a much larger playing field, he hit his knees solidly even as she uttered the command. The fact that she had spoken his true name, left him dazed, disbelieving. There was no way, none at all that she should have been able to know, much less properly utter his creation name. That was when she began placing the Geas upon him, the magic responding exceptionally well to each demand she placed upon it. Exquisite, masculinity curled into a sneer, refusing to believe that it would truly lock in place upon him. yet there it was, the Dreaming seeming to be fueled by the fury that set her uniquely beautiful gaze aflame. Who was this woman to think she could lay such a binding upon him ? It would seem not to matter, his creation name when combined with the surprising wealth of power she exuded being enough. More than enough apparently.

The scream was single then. Silent as it was torn from his mouth but granted no sound. It rose to dance and mingle with that matching thunder, the Dreaming's affirmation that her demands had been granted. There was one last instant, brief as it may be when his tri-ringed eyes held them in his sight, the Fallen stolen of his wings, at least temporarily, and the woman who should have hated him yet had stood up to someone who should have been able to wipe her from existence...And won. For now. That was the last thought held to his mind before he found himself flung out into the oblivion of Fate itself knew where.

~~~~~@~~~~~

When finally the world stopped it's kaleidoscopic twirl of spinning shadows, it was to the scream of cold wind, the rush of water soaking the clothing he wore to his body as his back hit solidly upon what felt like rounded, smoothed off rocks. A hand met what was far from solid ground, managing to brace enough to push himself up before he inhaled enough water to leave him nothing more then a beautiful corpse to be found floating face down come morning. It would seem that the Dreaming had a cruel sense of humor as his eyes opened and sure enough, he found himself in the center of a river, Gods only knew whe... No, oh bloody fucking hell no, the wench had not sent him HERE of all places. NOW of all times. Drawing a hissing breath through gritted teeth, gaze was cast around, searching out the lenses that usually covered my eyes. Another foul curse as they were perceived floating exceptionally far out of reach, their frames twisted and warped beyond believe.

Going to send his body into that wealth of ebony and shadow particles, there was a wall that he slammed into head first. Well a metaphysical well at least. You. Have. Got. To. Be. KIDDING. The last word was a mental scream, any hope that this was Father merely playing some type of prank to teach him a lesson, instantly wiped from his mind. Swiftly stretching out, trying to brush against any of his wealth of creation given gifts, there was nothing. The damned woman had for all intents and purposes turned him Mortal. When a hand would lift to dash the water from his eyes, they would land upon the contraption that was quite solidly in place around his wrist. Manacles. Like some damned slave, the woman had chained him. They were delicate. A Master's work of art, yet still they were on HIM. Studying them closer as he tread water to stay afloat, he found that there were indeed what appeared to be three sort of locking mechanisms that intertwined one another in a most devious of fashions. It occurred to him that there had been four parts to the Geas, but it was washed away, knocked to the back of his mind as he began finally making for shore, cursing silently all the while.

Away the frames went, dipping with the water, almost out of sight when a white bird dropped out of the air and snatched them up in deft talons. Ruby eyes glittered as the raven lifted off and banked toward the nearby city.

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~You stupid, stupid girl.~ She chided herself, thinking the back of her head against the bars of her make shift cell. The night air was crisp, though not freezing. She appreciated that, if it had been they would have found a cell for her somewhere and her last night would have been spent surrounded by stone, instead of stars. Couldn't have their prisoner dying from the cold, before they burned her at the stake after all.

Wide eyes, a burning kaleidoscope of blues and greens lifted to stare at the sky past the cast iron barrier. So close, and yet so far. Even if she had a way to break the bars the four guards posted would have had quite a few things to say about her escaping. She wished she could claim it was a case of being in the wrong place at the wrong time, but it wasn't. In all honesty she was guilty of all the charges leveled against her.

She had defied the rulings of the church, she had helped a collection of girls free who were bound for the same end she currently awaited. The oldest of them had been sixteen, and they hadn't been guilty of more then simple curiosity. They certainly hadn't been witches. A wry smile crept into place on her narrow features. Well, it seemed the Church didn't always burn the innocent. She wasn't, hadn't been for a very long long time.

A part of her knew she should have been much more afraid. Even been considering repentance, but she wasn't sorry. Wouldn't the big guy recognize the lie for what it was? Wouldn't she become exactly what they accused her of? At least this way she still had her pride. A snort sounded, amusement forged from her own thoughts. Pride, she would die, because she couldn't get past one of the seven vices. Ironic in a way. She could have called it honor, but that wasn't it. At the heart of it, she simply couldn't bare to see the look of smug satisfaction on that fat priests face as she begged for his mercy.

Situated as she was, sitting with her legs bent, elbows resting absently on her knees, long fingers interwoven. Those brilliant orbs caught sight of the ivory raven as it soared into view over the top of the buildings that surrounded the towns center. Most of all she would miss him, that feathered companion had been with her since she was a child. Now here he came, to perch on the lowest branch of a nearby tree. From this distance she couldn't see what he was toying with, save that it occasionally caught the light of the nearby street torches.

It would seem that his night was just bound to get better and better. While it may be darker than pitch out here and pressing the range of even his sight, he had still observed the flash of white swooping down to snatch up his mangled glasses. Muttering a curse upon Avian creatures one and all, he finally reached the shoreline and pulled his water logged body from the near to freezing liquid. The Sauna back at his Penthouse sounded amazing. Or a Hot Springs back in one of the Glades that he frequented with one of his assorted lovers to cavort until the sun was nearly rising before wiping their memories and sending them back on their merry way. Laying out rather impressive threats to the weather as well that he couldn't do a damned bloody thing about at the moment, he turned his steps in the direction of the city, making a valiant effort to keep that feathered fuck in sight as long as he could.

If there had been any doubt of him knowing where he was , which there hadn't been, it was more than alleviated the closer he drew to the city. The way he kept slinging curses, even he was going to run out of creative ways to insult the girl and her fallen companion in rather short order. Now all he had to do was pin down the exact year to see just how badly he'd been shafted. There was a slight handful of guards sprinkled about, and after a moment of actual pause and reflection, he felt the smirk roll across his features. he may be powerless at the moment, but he wasn't weak. It was simply about biding your time and waiting for the right opportunity to strike. Casting one more glance skywards, the damned creature seemed to have disappeared somewhere at the heart of the city, or so he hoped. As if hope was even something he had ever bothered to believe in to begin with. Placing himself in a copse of shadow, entwined about a few rather unimpressive looking trees, he gave it roughly fifteen minutes before starting forward again.

The shift change. The rotation of the old guard for the new. Ample opportunity to take advantage of the skills his Father had been so damned insistent upon. If he ended up stuck being Mortal for Eternity, at least he'd make a damned good thief or Assassin. That thought didn't bear thinking of though as he was first going to find his lenses, and a way to repair them. Then he was going to hunt down whoever that Bitch had used the dreaming to send him to and convince her that he was a right and proper good-boy so that he could get these blasted gauntlets off and his birthright back. Then...Then he would find the two of them in whatever little hole they had ferreted themselves before making her Geas upon him seem like droplets of water within the Sea. It wouldn't be that hard really, was the thought that rolled through his mind as he avoided the guards easier than it was taking candy from a baby. What should a babe in swaddling be doing with sugar anyways ? That analogy had always been pointless in his perspective.

The city hadn't changed much, he mused as he passed through it. Taking advantage of an alleyway here, a shadowed doorway there. What he now could not craft, he would find and use to his advantage. For the period, the city was impressive, even he had to admit. One of the larger, he had found a wealth of women anxious and eager to fall prey to his varied charms. That had been just it though, hadn't it ? As a young Prince-ling he had liked it fast and easy. Blowing through women like chaff. Now that he was far older, more matured, he wanted a challenge. Wanted a woman just once to tell him no. There had been two such now who would deny him. For what it was worth, this was where he had met the first. Pressing closer to the heart of the city where the Square was located and seemingly that little feathered fiend as well, he had to pause and flatten to a wall to avoid a passing of the Guard who were so kindly escorting several Ladies to their homes for the night. If they were truly ladies, then he was a Gentleman of the Highest caliber. Odd though how the closer to the Square he came, the more guards there seemed to be actively about. Something wasn't right. Going even slower, he cursed...How surprising when he realized that the rather pricey time piece encircling his wrist had stopped working hours ago. That was when he saw that raven so merrily making fun with his already tortured lenses.

And the cell...With a figure in it that coul...

He felt his step catch, what most would have called a stumble, his eyes and mind forgot the bird and zeroed in on the woman inside those bars. Refusing to believe that it was her, that she was still here, he remembered her eyes first. They were the sea and the sky, as well as every varying shade of blue or green that filtered between the two. It had been her eyes that had called to him first, then her fire. But what in the Nightmare Realm itself had her locked up and on display like that ? His curiosity getting the better of him, he managed to get close enough, if barely that he could actually get a clear look at her to see that she wasn't harmed. Not that he really cared of course but it would be a damned shame to mar in any way the beauty that he so clearly recalled.

Her hair was much shorter, He would remember it reaching nearly to her waist. Falling in tumbling waves of obsidian, now it fell an inch or so short of her shoulders. Its cut uneven but somehow not completely unflattering. Her dress was a simple white number, long flowing sleeves, sweeping skirt, though it was tucked carefully around her legs as she sat there. The cage wasn't wide enough for her to stretch out, the minimal options shifted between stand and sit. Maybe one could be so bold to go for a half lean if they were creative enough.

She was still watching the raven as it toyed with it's newest treasure. Staring at the bird for several seconds it finally turned one casual, wide blue eye in her direction as if it had only just then noticed her presence. The corner of her mouth twitched in the shade of a smirk in response, and the bird took to the air. This time swooping low over the cage, and dropping the item seamlessly between two of the bars. It's aim so exact that no sound at all was heard, either from wing or parcel. It landed lightly in her hands, its frame twisted but she recognized them almost immediately.

For a moment her world swam under the torrent of emotion that stole her breath away. Rage, mingled with a deep grievous sort of sorrow.

He was here; The Prince of Nightmares. Her Specter. Her love. Her Nemesis. The greatest enemy she had ever faced, and in his chest beat the truest heart she had ever known.

Every single thing he had ever cost her came tumbling back in a wash. He had swept in with the summer storms, and she had caught his eyes. It had been like tossing a pebble into a pond to watch the ripples, and being drowned within a tsunami. Helpless in the wake of it, she'd never had a chance.

Of course, he had disappeared just as swiftly. Leaving her to face the aftermath of his passing. It had claimed months, and she still was not the same girl she had been before that fateful moment.

Some scars didn't heal, they just glossed over until one day when you happened to accidentally tear it open again, and the smallest, stupidest thing could cause it. A scent, a color, a word, the sunrise. Then all you could do was feel it, and wonder how you possibly stopped thinking about it. For even a moment. Stopped shielding it, making excuses as to why it hadn't healed.

He had promised her everything. She, in her naivety, just hadn't realized until far too late that it was the same hollow promise he whispered into ears across the ages. She had been a fool to love him, but she had. Despite everything, she had loved him.

But it hadn't mattered.

Her fingers slowly closed around the metal, grip tightening into a fist, muscles straining hard enough that her hand started to shake. Even when blood started to flow from her palm, and dripped in long furrows down her arm, she didn't weaken her hold upon it.

Into that strange material she attempted to crush everything, every scrap of fear, every ounce of her fury.

Lies. Even if he told himself he did not care now, she was the closest he had ever come to experiencing that all too human emotion. He had seen what it had done to his father, how the Mortal woman Nora had made a fool of him. Heard the story of how the Anasazi woman had used and manipulated him as a tool. Yet still, he would not stand to see HER sit in a cage. If any were to put her in one upon display, it would be him. The cage as well would be one far different than this pathetic pile of scraps so hastily thrown together. Iron. That's what it's composition looked to be the closer he studied it. He was still figuring out just how to make this escape plan work sans his abilities when that damned bird perked up and flew over the cage to drop his gla...By all the Gods, and fates, and whatever else decided that it was his day to be royally fucked over...The feathered fuck just had to drop his mangled glasses, likely covered with bird slobber right into HER lap. Murder would have been so easy at this point as he pictured the bird's neck between his hands. Well the game was seriously afoot now. If anyone would recognize them, battered beyond believe or not...

Those four guards needed to be removed from the equation first. Powerless or not, he was still not incompetent. There had been times where he had done things without the assistance of hi...Okay lets not mince things here. He'd done things the human way less times than he cared to think of right now. Damn it all though, he was still the Prince of Nightmares. If he could remove four guards, he didn't deserve the title, empty as it may be right now. Don't kill them. Blinking at the niggling, amused little voice pecking at the back of his brain, he began another series of curses directed at anyone, anything. Something. It was true. He didn't know how long he was going to be stuck here and the last thing he needed was a murder rap planted on his head. Last thing you want is it placed on hers when you do leave again. Shut up already. True or not he didn't need the damned little smidgen that resembled what a conscience should be popping up right now.

One last glance stolen, knowing that SHE knew he was here now, it was going to be unavoidable. Wincing at the strain that was suddenly running through her limbs, he cleared his face of any emotions before making himself look as truly rumpled as possible. Torn pants. Ripped shirt. The sweep of nails across his face that opened it enough to allow blood to run free ever so faintly from the welts. Footwear as well was toed off, stockings tucked inside as they were hidden as the best was possible. Then painting the most dazed and lost look upon his features as he could manage, he stumbled into the group of guards. Weaving, not as if drunk but disorientated, he muttered about attackers. An assault as he had tried to approach the city. Something about a wife and young babe being taken by the bandits who ran off into the night. Working better than he had hoped, especially as he stumbled into the cage, holding onto it as if for dear life, only one of the Guards even seemed disbelieving in the slightest.

The two younger ran off for the front gates where he seemed to have come from. Or rather, where they assumed he had come from as he had never actually mentioned. The eldest of the four strayed somewhere between the light that fell just shy of the cage and the shadows that hugged the wall not so far out of sight. It was the doubting fourth who came cautiously towards him. Keeping his head ducked, knowing that his eyes would be a very, VERY bad thing to be seen just now, he waited until the last second before striking. The speed of a hawk, the precision of a viper, and the chop of his hand caught the guard straight on in the windpipe. His head coming up and forward caught the prick in the nose, the loud crunch and the spray of blood sweet music to his ears. Eyes rolling back in his head as a hand clasped at his throat, he went to his knees before keeling over. It didn't take long for the older guard to realize his companion's predicament and head swiftly towards them. Dance. Step and spin. Duck and evade. Bob and sway. Not even bothering to play with the old man but simply waiting for the right moment to strike. It didn't take long before his weapon switched hands, the hilt coming down hard enough on his temple to drop him like a sac of rocks. A quick check of his pulse verified that he hadn't hit him too hard. She should be proud of him. Though if the way his mangled glasses were being crushed further was any sign...This was not going to go well, but they could argue semantics later.

Darting closer to the cage, quieter then death on the wind, he searched his pockets for something to pick the lock with. Coming up amazingly short, he gave it one solid look over. Shaking his head he grabbed hold and after sucking in a breath as well as placing one bracing hand on the bars of the cage itself, he gave a solid, and rather viscous yank. The racket was far louder than he would like, yet it was what he had to work with right now. When it finally did give, the snap loud as gunfire, it was tossed aside, the door flung open. Reaching a hand in, his words were a quiet hiss of sound.

"Unless you like your newest accommodation more than I thought, I'd advise getting out and coming with me now. Piss and moan at me later, but for now lets get out of here. Though if you'd prefer to you're more than entitled to stay here. I'll even toss sleeping beauty one and two in there to keep you company."

The problem had really been that she had refused to give in to him in all the ways he had wanted. Her thinking was that it would give him cause to slow down, for just an instant, and really look at the world. The reality had been far harder. When she had refused he hadn't even hesitated. The world held too many glittering baubles for him to bother crafting his own.

Why would he? When he could just take one that had belonged to someone else.

Her life had been so simple before his first appearance. Even now things were direct, to the point. Or they were, until he had appeared like a shade and done away with the guards. His acting sound enough that even she hadn't immediately recognized him. Not until his voice, even slurred, parted the air and found her ears.

He had no trouble dealing with the remaining guards, the others too far off to realize their mistake. Nor would they until it was far to late. When the lock popped, and he gave up his ruse completely to speak to her. She was still bleeding, but now her grip did loosen it's death like hold.

There was no reaching for his hand, she gave him one savage glance and swept past it. Stepping down out of the cage, and onto the cobblestone. The white raven wisely chose to remain out of hid reach, but it did perch on a low limb of that same tree. Near an alleyway that for the most part went utterly unnoticed, narrow thing that it was.

It was for this opening that she moved, without so much as a word or backward look over her shoulder to see if he was following.

Her gait had grown more graceful since his departure. It had been several years since he had last laid eyes upon her. Then she had been a blushing lady of sixteen. Now she was at least twenty-one. Fully grown into her willowy figure, nothing about her was awkward now. There was even a swing to her hips that had become second nature, after months of practice.

Okay, that had stung. Expected yes, but it had bite to it none the less, that more or less ignoring of his presence. Locking that away to be explored another time, that even after years had passed, she could still make him feel something, he followed her. Not like a lost little puppy dog, but as a Male who understood enough about angry women to know that silence was best right now. Especially when escape from said female's wrath was not as hasty an option as was normal. There was also the fact that after leaving her, he hadn't come back, so to know where to go was to follow her. Tail her and hold to the slim hope that she wasn't leading him into some trap. It wasn't a bad thing, this following her though. She'd always been beautiful, exquisite really. Now though she was a woman come into her own and all the more appealing for it. He wouldn't have minded watching the sway of her hips for the rest of the evening and quite possibly a few to come, yet a certain scent tickled at his nostrils. One that would leave them far too traceable.

He was already tearing a strip from his shirt as they closed upon the alley mouth. Still damp from the water, it carried enough of his illusive scent to overpower the faint musty tang that drying in the night air. The dampness of it also allowed it to retain a certain level of coolness which would likely feel good against whatever... Why did he care ? She had snubbed him and would likely kill him given the opportunity. Try to at least. If there was a single being that you would let make the attempt and not raise a hand against, you know it's still her. Always will be. The words while aggravating were true, the these thoughts as well buried to be deciphered later. For now, long legs easily caught up to her, slender fingers wrapping around her wrist to spin her to face him. Loosely as not to crush her wrist which he so easily could, but enough to keep hold of her and hopefully prevent getting knocked silly. At least by that hand.

Ah it had been that hand. Taking his lenses, more mangled then ever from her grasp, they were chucked into the darkness, careless of where they landed. A quick scan of his gaze showed him that while it still trickled her blood, it was nothing bad enough to require something outside of his measly...Swearing he heard someone out there laughing at his misfortune, he quickly used the rather lengthy strip to bind her hand. Quick and efficient, he released her hand the moment it was done. In fact he had been so fast that the whole ordeal had likely taken more than a minute, if that.

"It's not a whit of my business as to why you were locked away in there like a common criminal. Like as not even if it was, you wouldn't tell me a single thing unless Hell were to freeze over. Actually it would take more than Hell freezing over now wouldn't it ? Would that you not be so stubborn, but then you wouldn't be you. Get out of here though while the goings still good. Those Guards won't be out all night and their friends will likely be back sooner than that."

Not that it all wasn't true, because it was, every single word of it. Spoken in a coldly logical, all together to the point tone, there had been nothing simpering, nor romanticized about it. The entire amount of words he had just spewed at her though made him want to rip his own tongue out and burn it to ash. Damn her for having that effect on him, and damn being sent here of all places. She was the last person in the world that was going to show any sign, any hint of willingness to help him. Such was the rub that once upon a time she would have been the on....Muttering a foul curse beneath his breath, washing the maudlin thoughts fully from his mind, he turned on his bared heel, making to walk off in the opposite direction. A direction that put him back out towards the guards in fact. As he moved so suddenly, a rather large protrusion of jagged cobblestone caught the sole of his foot. A hand shooting up to brace himself on the alleyway wall had the shackles, beautiful as they may be coming all too plainly into sight as he attempted to pull pieces of the roadway from his flesh.