pennysheets | Swept into Faerie for @punched

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Swept into Faerie for @punched_hitler

The realms of faerie love their frivolity. Great gatherings with music and food and dancing and chatter. Soldier doesn't know which great fae lord this is; it isn't like it matters. He's not here to kill any of them. He's here to prevent anything from happening to his own master, so he keeps his attention on him, as is only appropriate.

Though he does find his gaze drifting from his master to the swirl of movement and color from the ballroom floor, from time to time. There are flashes of leaves and talons and raven wings among the dancers, in cloths and hair and eyes, but the rhythm is engaging, the melody is pleasant, and he knows the steps. His feet itch to move, even though he knows he could probably never keep up with the true faerie dancers, and might lose what little he has left of himself if he tries. He still kind of wants to.

He knows he mustn't ask. But apparently his master can tell what he wants, because he finds the cool eyes on him when his gaze wanders back where it belongs. He straightens up, guilty and afraid, but the old fae just smiles indulgently.

"Go on, pet," he says. "I am safe enough for now."

Soldier goes. He doesn't have the same grace as most of the people on that dance floor, as heavy as he is with the metal growing out of his bones, but he has some value as a dancer still. He spins the real fae around to the beat as it picks up in response to the newcomer, strange steps from another life that they manage to pick up with laughter and chattering amongst themselves-- not for him, never for him, but still pleasant to have around him-- and feels almost happy enough to smile. It won't last, it never lasts, and he might come away from the dance with new fangs hooked into his mind, but he doesn't care. He wants to dance.

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That has Soldier pausing again, giving Steve a slightly wary sidelong look. The interest of the fae is not often a safe thing, in his experience. "I am not that interesting," he says after a beat. "That anyone would care to spend time with me."

"Well, I beg to differ," Steve says, with a funny little smile, as he makes a show of looking around - and then back at Soldier. "I think you're the most interesting person here. And I want to spend time with you."

For better or worse, Steve does not have a lot of experience with humans. Or, really, a lot of people outside the pretty cloistered merrow-folk, past exchanging greetings at a festival or gathering here or there. And he wasn't overly popular even among his own people, before he left not long ago.

He doesn't realize that he might be making Soldier uncomfortable - at least, not more than the general wariness the man has shown.

That makes no sense at all, in Soldier's experience-- unless this otherwise friendly fae has ulterior motives. He's silent for a long moment, trying to wrestle with something that feels like it might be disappointment at the thought that the merrow probably just wants to use him for something, then says, "The hunt will be leaving shortly. If you stay close to me I can make sure no boars try to kill you."

If the merrow really does want something from him, there's not much he can do about it except make sure to stay close to Pierce once this hunt is over. He won't tell Pierce about it, because he knows what will happen then, but that doesn't mean he has to be easy to use, either.

"I'd appreciate it," Steve says, and it's playful, but he means it. He's sure he can take care of himself, but he's also going into utterly unfamiliar territory, and clearly Soldier knows what he's doing. It's good to have someone he trusts to stick close to.

Because he trusts this human, for better or worse. Many would say Steve trusts too easily, but he actually doesn't. Most fae are not trustworthy, and even less so if they figure out what he is. He knows it's not safe to be himself - and yet, this human makes it feel safe. Maybe because they're both outsiders. Neither of them really belong, and yet here they are.

A horn sounds and all around them, heads turn and bodies start to move. Steve lets out a breath, then shoulders his spear easily despite its size tilts his head in the direction of where people are congregating. "Maybe we'll get lucky and the boars are taking the night off."

"That would be very unlucky," Soldier comments quietly, motioning for the merrow to follow him, deciding to worry about what exactly he wants out of Soldier later. "If there are no boars. They will find other prey."

He remembers clearly the hunt where one of the other fae's human pets was transformed for the chase, instead. He does not want that to happen again. He knows his master wouldn't allow that to be him, he's too valuable, but-- he doesn't want it to happen again, anyway.

Steve only needs a few seconds to disentangle for himself what that might mean. His face goes a little dark. "Of course they will." He sighs. "I guess I will hope for boar, then."

He really, really hates hunting. But he's in it, now. Maybe at the least he can try to make sure anything they kill dies quickly.

"We're going to have to kill more than one boar, aren't we," he says, as they fall in with the group as it departs. "I hate killing. Animals most of all."

"You and I might not have to kill anything, it depends on where the boars go," Soldier says, glancing aside at him again. Most fae he knows enjoy the hunt, animals or not. Even if they don't like to dirty themselves participating directly, they still enjoy egging it on and certainly eating up the aftermath. It's a bit odd to find one who has no taste for it at all.

Still. This is what Soldier is for, among other things: taking those dirty tasks so his better don't have to. So he adds, "But if we find one. I can kill it. You don't need to if you don't want to."

Steve glances at Soldier, something passing over his face - something like tenderness and gratitude, maybe, though it's chased by determination.

"I'm not going to leave you to do it all just so I don't have to," he says. "We're in this together." He doesn't know if Soldier enjoys hunting, though maybe not. Either way, Steve's got his back. He's not sure any of these other fae would. He has seen the way they treat humans, after all - generally as little more than animals, albeit sometimes as intelligent ones.

Sometimes not.

"You're very valuable to your master," he says, as they walk; more an observation than a question.

Soldier has seen those emotions before. Only they weren't for him. Never for him. That doesn't make any sense at all.

So he ignores it. It's the only safe response when he doesn't understand something that doesn't require an actual answer. He looks away from this weird fae's weird expressions and focuses on the forest around them, listening for the hounds flushing their prey further into the trees, watching the faerie on their steeds just within sight ahead of them, Pierce among them.

Easier to ignore when the fae gets to the point not much later. Maybe this is what he wanted to talk about, probe into Pierce's doings. Soldier just shrugs. "I have a purpose. I keep him safe." That makes him about as valuable as his castle walls, maybe, or a really good sword.

"As his Soldier," Steve recalls, though the way he says it makes it sound a bit like he's saying as his slave.

Because he remembers what Soldier told him: He doesn't know how long he's been doing it. He doesn't know anything before he was here. And Steve doesn't like the sound of that.

"He seems like the kind of lord who only keeps things around if they have a purpose."

What do you think mortals are to most fae, Steve, c'mon. Soldier doesn't miss the subtext but he also doesn't see what the big deal is. He's useful. He is valuable. That means the only one who can mess with him is his own master.

So he agrees simply, "He is. If I stopped being useful I would stop being his Soldier." And maybe this isn't the best life he could have... but what is he going to do? Want something different?

Steve nods, though he's quiet for a moment more, looking pensive. "Having a purpose is good," he finally says, quietly, eyes on the path ahead as they follow the larger dedicated hunting party. It's not like he can say otherwise - he's always wanted a purpose. Wanted to feel useful. Even though he so rarely has. In a way, part of him envies Soldier that.

"But people aren't only what they're useful for. Not everything in life is useful, and I think it's important to remember that, too."

Maybe he's not making any sense. But he looks at Soldier, at the way he's clearly Pierce's tool even more than his pet, and it's - sad. It makes him sad, and angry, and he wants more for this man, who doesn't seem to know to want it for himself.

"Does he have any other soldiers?" he asks, quietly, not sure which answer he wants to hear more.

Soldier eyes this weird fae warily. That's some radical talk, there. "I would rather be useful than sit around to look pretty," he states firmly. The humans who are kept just to be pretty are, in his experience, either too heavily enchanted to understand what's going on, or are bored out of their minds. At least he's given tasks, limited freedom, and the protection of a lord.

The question is almost predictable. Gathering intel. Soldier probably shouldn't even answer it, but he does: "None like me." He's the only human, for one thing. Probably not the only assassin, but he knows he's the best one.

Steve can't help the way he smiles at that response. It's a good one - one that matches his own strongly held opinions. And it only makes him like Soldier more, despite the fact that the man is being forced into that usefulness.

Steve knows a little about that, too.

He nods, because, "I've never seen any other soldiers like you." Which certainly doesn't mean they don't exist, because Steve hasn't seen a lot of the world, but it's true for the parts of it he has.

The answer does also tell him more about Lord Pierce, though it isn't surprising.

"He is a very powerful lord," he says - nothing new to either of them. "I have to assume I'm not putting you in danger, by... befriending you?"

He hopes that's what he's doing. The befriending part. He can't promise never to put this man in danger, because part of him already wants to. He's trying to tamp down on it, though.

Is that what this is? Soldier is not entirely sure that's what this really is. (It might be nice, though. He's never had a friend before. He doesn't know what that would be like. Or what he would even do with a friend.)

The question is a serious one, though, and he considers it seriously. "I don't know. You might be more in danger than me, if he disapproves." Soldier can only be punished, he won't be killed, he's too useful. This fae might not be so lucky.

It's what Steve would like it to be; he does recognize that real friendship goes both ways, but he's also willing to be the one to stick his neck out to prove his intentions.

Perhaps literally, though oddly, Soldier's words actually make him smile (albeit with some measure of relief, though only some. There are worse things than death, after all).

"I can handle being in danger," he says, almost cheerfully. "And popularity has never been high on my list of priorities. Besides. Some things are worth risking your skin over."

The heavily implied part of that sentence is that Soldier is one of those things.

He gets a look that actually verges on skeptical, there. He is not worth risking anyone's skin over. Maybe an underling or something, because he is not easily replaceable, but not a true, free fae's skin.

But. Also. He doesn't like the idea. He doesn't like the idea of anyone getting hurt for him. "Do not risk your skin," he says after a pause, sounding more earnest. "He might break it. How can you. Befriend me. Or anyone. If you are dead."

"Skin heals," is Steve's not-so-helpful offhand response, at first.

But he's not so dense as to be unable to see there's some concern there that doesn't entirely seem to stem from Soldier's nonexistent opinion of himself as a person deserving of friends.

But there is plenty of that, too, Steve thinks.

"A fair point," he finally concedes, as they walk. "But like I said - some things are worth the risk. I have to be willing to stand for something, to decide it's worth a high price. Why not friendship?"

The Soldier makes a frustrated little noise. He can't help it. He doesn't understand this stupid merrow. "You don't even know me. You danced with me once. Are you always this. This. This quick to get attached?" It can't be friendship. Even putting aside that he is his masters Soldier and thus really shouldn't have friends, you can't be friends with someone you only met once. Can you?

Steve's response is to grin, if a little self-consciously. "Yes," is the simple, honest reply. "I'm afraid I do."

Because you can absolutely be friends with someone you only met once.

Of course, "You do it too, though, don't you? Not with friendship. But you can look at someone and know whether they're a threat. And what kind."

That is, after all, what soldiers do.

"What if I said you could be a threat," Soldier says flatly. It's true. He still doesn't really trust that there's not an ulterior motive, here.

But he's starting to think the threat is more to this merrow than from him. Unless he is playing some kind of long game to try and get him off guard and-- what, seduce him, maybe? He's had fae try to seduce him before. It doesn't usually look like this.

Steve looks at him, his blue eyes honest, open, unapologetic when he says, "You'd be right."

Maybe not in the way Soldier is thinking, exactly. But Steve is strong. He's a fighter. He can be a threat.

But not to his friends. For his friends.

"But do you think I'm a threat to you?" he asks - honest, and curious.

There's a frustrated-sounding pause, with the only sound the leaves of the trees rustling and some distant baying hounds. "I don't know," Soldier finally says, and he's more honest than he should be, because if he said this to Pierce he'd be punished severely. "I don't understand you. You might be a threat. But you might just be very strange and a little stupid."

That makes Steve laugh a little, even if that might be even more strange, to Soldier.

"I am a very strange and a little stupid," he admits, freely, "but I promise, I'm not a threat to you. At least, not directly." Because, "I don't want to bring your lord's ire down on you, for befriending me." Assuming, of course, that Soldier wants to be his friend in return.

"But I realize Lord Pierce is - the way he is," he says, after a slight pause, because Steve might want to say exactly what way Lord Pierce is, but even he has learned there can be ears in places one wouldn't think they ought to be. And he is being honest when he says he doesn't want to be a threat to Soldier.

Well. Up to the point where he absolutely will befriend the human, because, clearly.

He lets out a breath, because there are things he'd like to discuss, but he doesn't want to be overheard. And he's still not sure how open Soldier would be to hearing them, in the first place. Steve's not good at being patient, but he can try.

"Yes," Soldier says simply. "He is." He knows. He's not stupid. He's his Lord's assassin, his tool, his Soldier, of course he knows. But he also doesn't remember anything else, and it's not as if most of the other fae he's met are any better.

He looks back at the merrow with a frown. "Why aren't you?" he asks, brows together. He's not like any fae he's ever actually met.

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