Into the Woods (Kyan and Madeline)*Completed*

[Madeline Ezperanza-Colette]

"Alright and… we are all set! Thank you for your purchase Monsieur.” With a graceful smile, Madeline’s charming and naturally raspy voice penetrated the air, her pure blue gaze which was slightly tainted with the colour of grey smoke close to her pupil and scattered throughout the rest of her iris, stayed glued to the table monitoring the transaction and waiting for the receipt to print. “So now that this is done…” the man who had just purchased her father's painting began to speak “… maybe we can go out for a drink or something.” He offered as he approached her. Madeline was, special, and different from most ladies, she had the innate ability to avoid people, being anti-social, and physically distancing herself from people without them getting offended. So as he stepped towards her, she stepped away in such a way he did not even catch on to the fact that she was putting space between them both.

“I..” I ripped the receipt from the attachable printer on my tablet and handed it to him “… am too young to drink Monsieur but thank you for the offer.” I offered him a smile with my lie because I was, in fact, older than him by at the very least a hundred years. ‘Tea, or coffee then’ He insisted but I just shook my head gently “I do apologize Monsieur but I am here for business not pleasure; I do not fraternize with my father's customers.” I locked eyes with him at last and though I could see his disappointment I could also see his understanding ‘So what do you plan to do here during your free time?’ I looked around the loft I had rented for my time here thinking, debating on if I should share. “I thought I might explore Thistlemoon Forest.” I glanced at him from the corner of my eyes as a faint smirk grew on my lips while he just seemed to deflate ‘No one dares go in there unless they want to end up dead or with sickness that would kill them.’ And that was exactly why I was going.

There was a spark in her eyes that seemed to catch the man's attention for a moment and mesmerize him as she closed her eyes and let a very faint laugh escape her lips. He cautioned, begged, and pleaded with her not to go, telling her all the tales of the people in the past who ventured out and came back all the worse for wear it not at all. Though she listened or entertained his words really her heart was set, it had been for many years now, so with grace, she walked him to the door “Your concern is truly endearing Monsieur but I have to go." She said before bidding him adieu and shutting the door behind him. It took hours to get from the loft to the forest but she still had the whole rest of the day as she had met with the man at dawn, just as the sun was rising. So now she stood at the threshold of the forest clutching a mason jar to her belly as she stared in before at last trekking in.

It was beautiful here, hard not to stop every few steps, close my eyes and just take in the sounds and smells, and the cool summer breeze that passed by every so often. It was peaceful here for me, which for me was an enigma as I was the peace for everything and one else. It was nice to find my own form of peace; I took a deep breath at that thought, a breath I never thought I would be able to take. For the first time in my life, I felt free of the chaos I called a life. However, I was here for a purpose and I would not let myself fully enjoy the forest until I was successful in said purpose. I peered into the mason jar I had been holding to my belly and gazed at the flower floating atop the water inside it, letting my eyes trail down to the vine-like roots that grew beneath the water. I got this flower from my father as a babe; he plucked it right from these woods. For decades I watched as it adapted to its different environments much like myself but now it was time to return it home because every living thing deserves a home, deserves freedom.

She wandered around for a long while, only stopping to compare her flower to others, realizing she was taking a risk here as her flower was a century and just a few years shy of two decades old as her plant was just a bud when her father gave it to her, much like her herself. She often wondered throughout the years whether these flowers still grew and if they did and she made it here if she would find this flower's family. She often tried to recall what her father had told her of this place, hoping that somewhere hidden in his vivid description of Thistlemoons beauty hid a clue as to where this flower belonged. Yet, the hours passed and the sun reached its highest point and her search had come to no avail. She let a breath vibrate passed her lips as she sat down at a pond she had stumbled upon, sitting right in the sun's rays that peeked through the trees above. She held the jar to her lips, silently praying, hoping she would find where her flower belonged, promising herself that she would return whenever she had the chance to return it if she had to.

I set the jar down before I nervously began to play with the necklace I wore taking the rings that hung from the rawhide string and gently brushing them against my lips. I soon caught myself in this act and dropped them, letting them fall back to hang around my neck, it was just an old habit I had, one I mostly never caught or realized I did. I stared out at the pond, taking in the beauty of the water glistening in the sun. At that moment I forwarded my brow as I caught a glimpse of something near the water’s edge, slowly rising and approaching and squatting down above it to get a better look. I could not help the buoyant laughter that fluttered out of me. I rose and trotted back to my mason jar only to return to the spot by the pond seconds later, quickly opening my jar and gently removing the flower. I knelt and held my flower in my hand comparing it to the flowers at the water’s edge “I found them…” I stated to myself in pride but mostly relief and disbelief, carefully I dug in the moist dirt a hole vast enough for the roots of the flower that had grown with me. Planting it, returning it home as I now patted the dirt back on top of it.

She stared at the flower for a moment before she felt the shift in the forest, like something, had been restored as if life had in some way returned to the already lively forest. She knew Love and Life would one day be her duty to uphold and restore so she adored this feeling, the feeling of all being right within the woods. Death and hate? Well, though those would someday be her duty as well she did not accept it. In fact, she would hate having to be a reaper or provoking someone to hate so much that they scream or cry or do anything to get the feeling out. Her father saw that darkness, but it was not his place to tell her and neither of them knew that it would take her mother or anyone nearly killing her to wake the Eternal genes in her up fully. 

I closed my eyes to the feeling of this newfound life around me and could not help but backflip, allowing myself to just plop back onto the grass beneath me as I land. I took in a deep breath of relief letting my eyes close once again, this time actually letting myself enjoy the forest. I enjoyed the breeze, the sun peeking down in streams on my skin, the wildlife I could hear running and flying all around, and the sound of the water turning in the wind. That is when it hit me, my fatigue, my body suddenly realized I had been running and moving for decades and never truly got a moment to just unwind. I could feel my eyelids grow heavy even while they were closed, and how my body melted into the grass beneath me. I wish I could stay here forever at this moment but, I had some much to do and I should probably start my long drive back to the city. I opened my eyes with that thought and sat up with a burdened breath only to stop short so I would not bump heads with who was now right in front of me.

She swallowed hard as she came face to face with the King of the forest unbeknownst to that fact of course. Their faces are so close to each other that her nose gently brushed against his as her eyes that showed the perfect balance of life and death living in harmony within her stared into his bright blue ones before she moved back. She forwarded her brow and blinked a few times while letting out a sharp breath from her nose wondering if she had in fact fallen asleep and he was just a part of some odd dream, soon coming to realize she was in fact awake. A swirl of questions flooded her mind suddenly because she knew that no human could enter this forest unless they were like her or something even greater. She admired him or rather studied him for a second, something telling her that somehow he belonged here and suddenly she swallowed hard again because now she felt as though she were trespassing. She opened her mouth to speak "Uhm…” she closed it again for a moment as nothing really came to her mind. “… Hello!?” she, at last, managed to say not wanting to be awkward or rude by just getting up and walking away.

[Kyan Raventhorn - Council]

Kyan's eyes went down to their suddenly encased hands which was again an odd feeling for him. However, he didn't pull away from the gesture and let her lead again as they continued onward to this new destination. The sound of more glass breaking made him turn his head to see with a delighted smile, but once they rounded the corner, the chaotic scene was out of view. All that was left was the sounds of the emergency vehicles which had responded to help. He hoped they would be hindered at every attempt to save the building. And Audette. The only thing he regretted were the lovely plants that would become damaged in the fire on that filth's floor. Taking his thoughts from what had just happened, he instead focused on what Madeline was telling him.

She was completely bent over the memory she shared. More nasty people of the world causing her strife. More and more the king did not favor her father as these stories continued on. Madeline seemed entirely too forgiving of him and the excuses she made for the people who treated her badly made him roll his eyes. He wondered if she ever got angry. Lashed out. Perhaps that calm demeanor was to hide something ferocious inside that she felt the need to keep at bay. Oh, he would so very much love to see that side of Madeline. He wondered what it would take to get that out of her. How he could nudge her in that direction. There was plenty of time on his side after all and he was so very creative when it came to poking just the right buttons. Then...  "... I was attacked by my mother." How interesting.

Madeline's hand suddenly dropped and he realized they must be where she lived. His eyes moved about the place until the door opened and he followed inside, curious to see how the woman lived in the confined space. Humans and their tiny spaces. Kyan wondered how they could live without so much as a tree or river nearby when he almost bumped into her as she came to a full stop to knock on a door. Breathing in shortly through his nose, the fae prepared himself for another human he wouldn't be able to stand, but was surprised to see the elder man on the other side. His ocean hues moved over the person from toe to head as this new human smiled to Madeline with what seemed to be affection. 

His eyes remained on the man as Madeline began to speak, until noting her hand motions from the side of his vision. The king then zeroed in on how gentle the touch was to Madeline's face when this Hovington noted the scratch which had been left by the pixies back in Thistle. The two began silently speaking to one another again which Kyan could not understand, making him even more intrigued to know what the only possible kind human they'd met on this journey might be saying to her. At Madeline's introduction, Kyan raised a single eyebrow, looking down at the man's hand as if it were designed to cause him harm. He looked to Madeline for a moment before placing his hand in the elder's and shaking it like humans did. "She will be taken care of," Kyan said firmly as if he needed to prove it to the man. The king couldn't help himself now that he was holding Hovington's hand and let his mind go for a moment into the future. It didn't take very long to find it, but it seemed the human would die peacefully in his bed. No pain to speak of.

Kyan dropped the man's hand, but they held eye contact for some time before he eventually broke the gaze and followed Madeline upstairs, but not before looking over his shoulder one more time. Once inside the space, he found the bottle being presented to him, but was somehow not as pleased anymore. He didn't even open it and let it fall at his side while he walked her flat. He tried to learn more about her with her choices in things to keep around her which made this a home. "Do you paint?" he asked, eyeing one of the pieces of art and tilting his head slightly at the imagery. "I'd allow you to paint," he said simply, keeping his attention on the painting. He wasn't sure why felt the need to comfort her somehow. "Why did your mother attack you?" Kyan was anything but tactful. If he wanted to know, he'd ask. He turned to face her, opening the bottle and drinking from it nonchalantly before leaning against the wall expectantly for an answer. 

[Madeline Ezperanza-Colette]

Madeline was minimalistic and travelled light having only a backpack filled with clothes which was neatly tucked away in one of the nearby corners. The only other things that were her's in the open concept flat were the scattered planet life she provided with the intent to leave it for the Hovingtin's grandkids who would move in once she was gone and the stained glass window she created herself. She moved around quickly taking the paintings off their easels and placing them on the wrappings she had laid out on the floor before kneeling to completely wrap and tie them up. Her muscles seemed to move on memory as she was lost in her own world trying to figure out what to say to her father as she repeated her sentences in her head like a persistent echo that would not cease. 

I took a breath and shook my head very slightly as Kyan's question pulled me out of my mind and I quickly tied a tight knot in the twine I fastened around the painting I wrapped. "I..." I hesitated to try and recall the last time I painted as I let my body come to a stop and my eyes squint as I think. Oh!... Oh. My shoulders sink faintly as I recall. "...Yes. I do." I do not explain that it has been decades since I have and the last time I dipped my brush it was in an attempt to fix a painting my mother had done before I was born. "I am more of a crafter or builder if you will though." I say as I rock to my feet and lift the painting with me before I carry and place it with the others I had finished before it. 

Given enough time and resources, Madeline would build things for the people she cared for after quietly observing what it is you liked and thoroughly enjoyed. If you were a musician she would create you instruments and if you were a painter she would create you paint and the brushes to match. Her art and talent were using the skills she picked up in her life to build and craft, taking the time and great care in learning how something works or how it is made to make it herself for someone else. She took a break from wrapping a moment as she approached a small stationery she had set up and separated two pieces of paper and the envelopes to correspond but then just stared down at one of the blank pages with inward distress.

There were two people I would not be able to call and that was because one did not have a phone, that I was aware of, and the other would find practically anything I did that was out of the ordinary unusual. If I were not careful in what I wrote to her she would burn the world down until I was found even if I were never missing. I sighed as my pen hit the paper and began to scribble after I decided I would start with the letter to my brother, Brandon. We had grown a bit estranged over the past few years so naturally, he was easier to write to since I figured he no longer cared. A thought that immediately caused me to apologise in my letter stating that maybe if I practised his teachings harder he would not have pulled away. I could not see how his distance was not my fault maybe it was because I never found his body before he became a reaper a thought I did not add to my letter but it did rot my mood. 

Maddie's manner grew dull as she finished writing; it was as if a rain cloud bubbled above her head and followed her now. She slid the page away from her with a faint attitude letting it glide across the smooth surface to separate herself from it and let Kyan read it if he wished to check for hidden messages or a scream for help which was not at all included. She needed a moment before writing that next one now so she returned to wrapping up the last two paintings and knelt with her back to Kyan as she worked in her gloomy silence. When his next question came her body seized up on her against her will and her back straightened sharply like someone was pressing a knife to it. 

My throat clenched and dried up on me and inherently that made it hard to breathe. I tried to answer him I really did but I was still hurt from the moment he was asking about. My ears still rang from her wild scream and whenever I closed my eyes all I saw was the image of her killing me from that dreamwalk gone wrong.  I may have forgiven her already for my impending murder but it did not make me fear her any less and it did not mean that the subject of her was not an open wound that I just got to stop bleeding. The more I tried to answer the more my body fought against me like a defence mechanism or like it had gone into shock. My head thumped gently against the painting I had just wrapped as I leaned over and my nails ripped through the wrapping while my fingers curled into a fist. A groan escaped my lips because I felt like I was breaking my word already by not being able to answer and my word was all I had. "I need time." That was all I could rasp out as I sat back up. "I thought I could talk about my mother but it is clear to me I am not ready." I glance over my shoulder at Kyan with a serious gaze at the same time as my words meekly enter the air. I needed time to grapple with things about her first and I just hoped he would understand.

[Kyan Raventhorn - Council]

Into the Woods

"...the inevitable."

The king watched as Madeline began taking very special care with the artwork around her apartment. Each movement was calculated and precise. She really took this occupation of hers seriously. He supposed there were worst things in the world she could be doing. He was never one for art. It required too much thought that he was too impatient to give. He was more of a physical person. He needed immediate satisfaction and not from long arduous contemplations on light and shadow, color, and lack thereof. It seemed like a waste of time that could be spent on much more thrilling endeavors one could use their hands for.

Kyan's head titled slightly at her demeanor. The woman's body seemed to stiffen as if she was recalling that painting was attached to some bad memory. All this mystery was unnerving. Why couldn't people just accept their past and embrace it? It only made for lessons and a stronger resolve. His brow furrowed while taking another sip of the wine which was not as sweet as he had hoped, but humans didn't make anything as nearly as divine as fae. He tried to read more into her static like response and noted she instead preferred building. Odd. He never would've pegged Madeline as such. However, it did give him a chance to introduce her to the architects of Thistle. The magnificent homes they lived in against the very face of nature was not on accident or through magic. They were built into the trees, waterfalls, and mountains. Surely she wouldn't have seen such things before. Maybe then she might open up more to him.

The fae took several pointed steps towards her as she began writing what he assumed to be her goodbye letters. His bright eyes moved to her face which was set in a melancholy expression. He almost felt badly. Strange. Kyan looked away from her and towards a window instead to avoid whatever feeling that was and drank from the bottle longer than he had previously. No, he was right in what their arrangement had been. Not to mention the people in her life seemed to be nothing but despicable as it were. Moreover, someone would have to pay for her father's thievery and disruption of the wood's health. Kyan hoped having his daughter in the very wood he stole from would cause more suffering than him being in her place. That made a sly grin appear then.

And what of the mother?

Another mystery it seemed. One she was not thrilled to talk about yet. His eyes bore through the back of her head for a brief moment and the pain of the subject was audible in her words as she requested to not speak on the matter any further. Fine. He would wait. Better she said it willingly one day than him constantly asking no matter how intriguing her life seemed to be with all these villainous people in it. Placing the bottle down, Kyan noted the name on the letter as her back had been turned to care for another painting. Clearly not for a parent. Was this the lover? From the few quick lines of words he was able to scan, it seemed not. "And your father?" His slender fingers drummed on the countertop to show his impatience. "I hope this day wasn't a chance at stalling the inevitable. We had a deal and I grow weary of the mundane world outside of fae. I'll have all these things moved into Thistle if you so wish." The king's hand flitted about to acknowledge he meant her belongings. He really didn't like the idea that he felt as if he needed to make Madeline feel less upset. It was not in him to worry much beyond himself unless it came to protecting Thistle. Why her? "A small token for your sacrifice if it means we can leave sooner and be back to the wood over this... cemented box."

[Madeline Ezperanza-Colette]

Although the majority of their day had been spent together thus far Madeline had yet to learn the Thistle King's tells, so when he looked to the window she thought nothing of it merely figuring he was admiring the plant life near or the one panel that was abstract and stained. Madeline lay in wait, fully expecting Kyan to pry and dig and drag the information about her mother out of her and she honestly was not prepared for how that would hurt or the emotional wounds that would leave; she could not even begin to fathom it. However, when the subject was dropped and changed she felt as though a soft ray of light had graced her while she was lost in darkness, slowly melting away the cold stiffness in her bones with its faint warmth. Though the breath she took was not deep enough to relax her entire body. She had not fully relaxed since she met the king. 

I was sure to be quick when rewrapping the last painting before placing it with the others. "My father is a foolish old man..." I glance over my shoulder as I say a bit more intense than I had intended. I make my way back towards the stationary and begin to write my second and final letter. This one is both easier and harder to write as it is easy on my emotions but hard to figure out what to say. One wrong sentence or even word and all of this bridge burning would be for nought. "...but in the end, he is my father..." I sigh with my eyes glued to what I am writing. "Ask what you want about him." My eyes slowly drift from my letter to the king and I let a soft smile grace the edges of my lips before returning my attention to the letter. I had to keep this one vague. Telling my closet friend Lena little to none within; it begins with the basics of telling her how I was without mentioning where. While the body was stuffed with things to laugh about... Like the time we snuck into a marriage retreat just to take advantage of the free vacation. I found myself chuckling faintly at that memory. I ended it by reminding her of the talk about my sabbatical we had and that since I was away I would take advantage of that now. 

Upon reviewing the letter she handed it off to Kyan to read as she labelled everything to be sent out to the proper address. Quickly calling the shipping company to confirm the pickup for tomorrow. As the phone's receiver clicked she heard the steady drumming, it was a soft sound but the anxiety it gave her made it loud. It danced up her spine and echoed around her head before the rhythm paraded straight into her gut, twisting it up and making her nervous. She was next to him with her gentle hand on his to stop the noise before she even realised it herself. She sighed in relief when the rhythm withered, never looking at him or moving her hand. "Thank you but I do not..." She said softly which caused her raspy voice to crack. "...nothing here is mine." She said as she looked around before pointing to the neatly packed bag in the corner. "Everything I own is there but it can all be given to charity." She spoke again but this time with a shrug and then came a heavy sigh. "I am not stalling to avoid what I know will come I just needed time to know what to say." She softly admitted as she, at last, moved her hand from his and reached for the phone. 

I dialled the number on the old fashioned phone; the one thing I asked everyone in my life living in New Orleans to do was to have a landline because during Hurricane season it was the only reliable means to communicate. I put the call on speaker and after one ring he answered. 'Bonjour Colli- Flower.' and I can not help the soft smile that touches my lips. "Bonjour Papa. Everything is set to be shipped out tomorrow morning, and congratulations you sold everything." I noticed the slight pause as he took in that I was speaking English and not French or Creole. It was not too out of place for us but it told him something he would not like was coming. 'The congrats are yours I have nothing to do with sales. I just paint.' I let out a sharp breath from my nose to represent a laugh but the little bit of warmth in our conversation soon turns to ice as I hear the faint yet crazy mutterings of her in the background. My mother. Suddenly, I am holding my breath, stiff and I am visibly terrified as I take a defensive step back. The world disappears. It is just me and her. And my eyes burn from the fear filled tears that form on the waterline but never fall. "She... She is... She is there?" I stutter and after a heavy pause he says 'yes.' 

It was small, slow, and subtle but suddenly one of the masks Madeline wore began to lift, just enough to show a part of her no one had seen before. Her fight or flight response kicked in and perhaps, to everyone's surprise, she did not want to run. The prolonged silence kept her isolated at this moment but it was disrupted by the slight movement coming from Kyan beside her. Immediately her hand shot out and her palm pressed against the king's belly to stop him from doing anything and all at once, she realised how her father had been ranting about her mother, how they could all work things out, and how he believed her mother did not mean to try and kill her. At the same time, Madeline knew that if Kyan were to interfere here a can of worms would be opened and she would not have any way of keeping that war contained. "I am not coming, home papa. I think it is best I take a sabbatical and you and Ciara work things out among yourselves." She at last spoke and that seemed to only make her father's rants turn to pleads as he tried to convince her to come home but the resolve played on her partially unmasked face. 

"You built your tarot card house on the bayou, and paper and water don't mix." Silence. At last. The old man was still as superstitious as ever. "With you, everyone dies. My mother, Brandon, Vice, and I can not keep fist fighting death as our delicate house of cards sinks. I will lose at some point and it does not help that that is exactly what some people want. In fact, everyone wants something from me I just can not give so..." I took a breath when I feel heat clutched against the palm of my hand and let it distract me from the phone for a second. I pull my hand away slowly realizing it was still on Kyan' abdomen as I feel a faint blush creep onto my cheeks despite how my jaw was clenched and my brow was pinched forward. "...I am not coming home. It would just get me killed." I pursed my lips and rolled my shoulders back. It was an ominous thing to say but seeing as I had seen my death at my mother's hands it came with confidence and before he could reply I hung up. I stood there like a stone for a second before taking the phone off the hook so he could not call back. I feel... Cold... And the shiver that stabs down my spine cannot be hidden as I close my eyes and frown. "The inevitable awaits right?" I say to fight against how my heart hurts but the pain is clear in my voice. I wanted this, I have wanted this freedom from him for the longest. I have run away countless times so why did this hurt so damn much? 

[Kyan Raventhorn - Council]

Into the Woods

"Let's go home."

Her soft touch on his hand steels him, his stomach flipping. His digits immediately stop their rhythmic motion as his eyes move from the window to her where she seems to not be able to look at him despite their closeness. This kind of gentleness he wasn't used to nor would anyone even attempt to try given who he was. The impatience that was once filling him, now receding to a simmer. How is she doing that? Fae weren't known for their grip on emotions most times and Kyan was a prime example of this. His outbursts tended to have repercussions on the world around him and anyone in the way, but somehow Madeline calmed him which made the king draw in a slight breath as his mouth parted from the surprise of the connection.

Kyan's gaze follows where she points to land on the bag that apparently was all she planned on taking with her. It was a dichotomy that he found odd, given all the artistic pieces remaining. Everything seemed to only be here for her work, her father, and he wondered what Madeline would choose to fill up her room with once they were back in Thistle if not the human connections that were currently in her home. His head tilted slightly at this notion, seeming as if she didn't have much she cared to remember this contrasting world by.

Once Madeline's hand moved from his, he shifted his weight  unconsciously to lean closer to her. As the phone rings, a male voice responds to the call and Kyan's jaw sets. Her father, finally. The pet name he uses for his daughter makes him suddenly possessive as he watches Madeline's face softly light up. His insides were abruptly twisting about. The king remained quiet. Despite the foreign feelings he was currently going through, he didn't want to miss the moment in which her father would hear the very last words of his daughter and then nothing ever again. This seemed to settle his stomach and the corner of his mouth turned up slightly from the pleasure of it. 

Then something else happens Kyan wasn't expecting. It's visibly over Madeline's frame as her body tenses from the sound of someone else with her father. His eyebrow raises at the new voice trying to understand what would cause this reaction and then of course, their previous conversation moves forward from his mind. This must be the mother. Without truly realizing it, the fae steps towards Madeline as if to shield her from the conversation in some way, but her hand is pressing against his core and ceases the intention. A warmth flooded through him at her contact. A fuzziness in his head. The king forced himself to pay attention to the conversation again and he caught the words that made the anger in him begin to sizzle once more. Was this fool actually defending the woman who tried to kill her own daughter? His own child? Their agreement was for Madeline to take her father's place in the wood, but that didn't mean Kyan wouldn't still kill him in the human world.

He remained still as if her touch was an anchor. A conviction rests on Madeline's face and his attention is solely on her now and not the phone. Her choice words are undoubtedly causing her father to hurt and that pleases Kyan. These admissions she's feeling almost sound like she is relieved to not be seeing him again. The connection that suddenly breaks when she removes her hand makes his eyes shift away from her, but he still felt the high of knowing how broken her father must feel at losing his daughter. He only wished he would see it with his own eyes instead of staring at the plastic piece with a distant voice coming through. Even if that voice was dripping in pain and desperation. Madeline's final words to her father make him reel internally. It sounds as if she wants this. That she wants to be with him instead of bound to her father and the familiar warmth begins to rise in him again.  

"Yes," he responds to her question of the inevitable, locking his eyes with hers. "It does." Flicking his finger without looking away from her gaze, her bag lifts into the air. "Let's go home."

[Madeline Ezperanza-Colette]

The crude chill frosted through her bones and though she had felt this cold many times in her long life this felt quite different. Madeline felt displaced for the first time in her life; she felt purposeless with no one or thing left to care for or anyone one to possibly care for her. Though she was used to the latter. She took a slow heavy breath that huffed passed her lips, for someone so keen and aware of the connections she made with everyone she met she completely missed the one building before her. Maybe if she had noticed it she would not be feeling so...  Alone...  That was it! This cold feeling and why she knew it well was the brute reminder that no matter what she did she always ended up alone. Madeline looked Kyan right in the eyes for a moment as he spoke but could not see past her own emotions wrestling at the back of her gaze. 

I nodded and stepped forward to peel my bag out of the air just so I could hug it close. I know I said I could leave this bag behind and while that original sentiment and statement held true I also just needed some sort of comfort or affection right now. If I still had the Fireflower in its horrid glass jail I would have hugged that because then at least its warmth and welcome would have felt like a hug. I rest my chin on the top of my bag as I hug it breaking eye contact with Kyan. I was not taking his kindness for granted, I would never be able to if I were being honest with myself, but I was counting the days until he lost interest in me and his kindness ultimately stopped. For right now I held his interest but I knew from experience that that would not last. I just worry about what will be my fate when he decides to truly treat me as a prisoner and if I would make it through that. I was only people's cup of tea while the tea was still hot. The moment it cooled I was very quickly forgot. "Home?" 

Madeline's soft voice cracks as she lifted her head. Perplexion covered her face as her eyes faintly grew wide with a confused curiosity. She had not taken into account the possibility of Thistlemoon being her new home considering how she was looking at this situation. It is also what made her miss her new subtle connection with Kyan. She was so focused on keeping her guard up and secretly remaining distant as a means to protect herself when he decided she was not worth it anymore, that it was not until this moment that it dawned on her that maybe Kyan was not thinking about things the same way. Would that make her drop her guard and close the distance she has decided to keep? No, because if she had learned anything from her life it was that everyone always wanted something from her and would do anything to get that from her, Kyan was currently no exception.

Home...  Hearing that one word melted the cold I was feeling and suddenly made me recall certain moments I shared with the king today. All the moments of closeness he initiated or the gentle touches which I initiated, albeit innocent ones. It put a new perspective in my mind and I can not explain why but it made me suddenly feel less alone. I turned my head away embarrassed I had not noticed everything sooner but I was nervous and scared, and that blinded me. I was still nervous and scared because my fate was in the hands of the Fae before me and if he wished to end me...  Well, I would be in HIS home, and there would not be much I could do. I took one last look around as I stepped towards him wondering how we would be getting back to Thistlemoon. Internally begging and praying to every Eternal I could name that it was not through flight. A plane I could handle well enough but something told me Thistlemoon did not have an International airport. Could Kyan fly? In general could the Fae fly? I shift nervously at the thought, The Wind and the air and I did not get on and we did not have a very pleasant past either.