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28: Forsaken

.:Mavrik:.

Delilah's breathing finally evened, falling into a fitful sleep, he focused on finishing the loose braid he'd been working on.

Rubbing his temples and glancing at the sword that lay next to him, feeling conflicted. The very existence of the executioner sword that had taken many souls by his hand, a sworn reminder he'd never be worthy to stand in her light.

It hurt, it gnawed at him, he'd long accepted his fate and denied himself any pleasures that swayed him from his path.

But now.. Was Lira condemning him?

Delilah twitched in her sleep, face contorting with a flash of pain, curling closer to his side.

Mind circling back to dancing with her, dress fluttering around her with each twirl, threatening to set the room ablaze and bring down his resolve with it. She was kind, too kind. Sometimes the way she looked at him only served a reminder of what a monster he truly was. Undeserving of the unwavering trust and compassion he'd caught in her topaz depths. Despite his promise to her and the talk of never throwing one's words into the air lightly, he'd never truly know if it was one he could keep.

If she knew the horrors he'd committed, would she still remain at his side?

Selfishly, Mavrik couldn't stomach the thought of what he would find in her eyes if she knew or her absence if it proved to be too much.

By now the night had skimmed past them, vanquished by the new day. He'd grant her a few more hours of sleep, to rest and let the magic that coursed through her mend some of the damage.

"Lilah? Come on, we need to keep moving"

Eventually relenting to the nerves that counted the seconds and jumped at every whisper of the forest around them.

Glassy eyes flickering open, darting around in fear before they settled on his causing her to visibly relax. Cut on her cheek already thinning into a shallow scratch, aided by the potent balms.

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She dragged herself to sit up, lips turned in a frown, reaching out to catch his jaw in her warm hands.

"You look, how I feel" Her voice laced with worry "did you sleep at all?"

"I'm fine" he brushed her off, helping her carefully onto her feet.

Turning from her gaze, face black and blue and her first worries were always on him. Even when he'd first found her, the fact she asked about his sword wasn't lost on Mavrik.

"You should rest."

He shook his head, pulling her cloak and lantern from the saddle bag, intentionally leaving her brigandine and weapons. There would be no fighting or battles for the injured young woman. Tensing slightly as he felt arms wrap around the back of him.

"I'm glad you're okay" her voice muffled against the back of his plate.

Carefully Mavrik turned, pushing down the emotions that sparked as he found her delicate face turned up to him.

The way her horns curled back heightened her already timid expression, forcing his gaze to the cloak that he pushed into her hands.

"Trade?" He saw the confusion on her face register to understanding, melting into a cheeky smile that offered the tiniest glint of her elongated canines.

"What if I don't want to?" She giggled, dancing back from him.

Her antics granted him blessed relief, not knowing what he would have done if her spirit wasn't so strong. He wasn't a fool, the pain in her eyes was ever present and haunted. But, her inner fire was still there.

He resisted the urge to snatch her up, imagining her melodic laughter as he tussled the sunset fabric from her grasp.

No, he could never close the distance to bask in her light.

Turning away from her, he pulled at Glenn's reins "come on, we need to keep moving."

After a moment his burnt orange cloak found his hands, blue one slipping around the silent woman as it rustled back around her.

He got on, helping pull her up behind her, watching her arms appear under his.

"Where are we going?"

"There's a safe house near by for mercenaries, we can recuperate there."

He felt Delilah shift slightly, reaching to dig around in the saddle bags along side her leg. Fishing out the book she was so fond of.

"Going to read us a story?" He jested lightly, feeling guilty for shutting down on her.

"Well, now that you've insisted" Hearing the pages flutter "The Sparrow and the mouse" she began, settling into the story of a small field mouse embarking on a harrowing adventure on the back of a sparrow to save the forest that was their home. He listened intently, finding the tale unfamiliar to him, then again he hadn't grown up on fae tales.

"Do you have a favourite story?" She asked, leaning her weight against his back.

"Not really, but I do have a few songs that I enjoyed in my youth."

"Sing them!"

Smiling at her statement with a shake of his head "they don't have any words and I don't know how to play them."

"Hmm. Well I'm sure we can find someone who can. I'd love to hear them." He stayed silent, dispelling the images of gliding around a crowded ball with Delilah in his arms, as the tender memories of the songs played through his ears.

"I like Lilah by the way, can I call you Mav?"

"No."