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Jul 5, 2016

Fires

Gwyllynir always knew where to find him, even when he had taken to four legs and run deep into the Forest to the places the rest of the Court rarely came. Perhaps especially then. There were times Maerenath wasn't sure whether to find it exasperating or to be grateful for it, this time he was inclined toward the former. He didn't look up as his brother slipped into the small glade, didn't let his crimson ears so much as flicker toward the antlered fae's light footfalls. Instead he kept his eyes resolutely trained on the space between the two trees in front of him, hoping that maybe this time Gwyllynir would take the hint and walk away.

"I know what you're doing."

This time Maerenath couldn't keep his ears from turning toward his brother's voice, perking slightly in a question he would have been hard pressed to voice with a wolf's fanged mouth.

Gwyllynir didn't answer that unspoken question, only settled himself on the tree root beside him and reached out to take a fistful of the snowy fur on his neck.

Maerenath exhaled a soft groan, but let his brother's hand guide his head to rest against one leather clad knee, his eyes closing under the gentle caresses to his ears that followed. It was soothing, despite his irritation. Relaxing the way his twin's presence always was, but it didn't really fix a thing. It couldn't.

For several moments they lingered in silence Gwyllynir's fingers smoothing gently over his ears, rubbing, tugging gently as though it helped him think. But in the end it was he who broke the peace again. "This has to stop, Maer. You know that."

Maerenath sighed, a heavy sound that seemed to find its way all the way from the forest floor beneath his belly to slip painfully over his lips, and they were lips. The ears Gwyllynir toyed with melted down into crimson hair as he resumed his fae shape, but his brother's gentle fingers never stopped, only changed their motion, combing through the blood red strands. "What has to stop?" He asked stubbornly, even though they both already knew.

"You breaking your heart over what you can never have. You know it, Maer."

"I don't..."

"You do. You know exactly what I mean. And maybe only I see it now, but if you keep it up he will notice, and Fianynlas will notice and..." Gwyllynir didn't finish. He didn't need to.

"He's..." He trailed off. There were so many things he felt but he had never been good at finding words. Melanthios wasn't happy. But clever as Gwyllynir was with his feelings he didn't think his twin had noticed that. He didn't think anybody else had noticed. But it wasn't just that. It wasn't even just that Melanthios was beautiful and smelled like night and that despite himself he wanted him desperately. It was the way Melanthios smiled when he did smile, they way they talked, the way he looked when he forgot Maerenath was even there.

"He's not yours to love."

"I know. But I can't seem to help it. It hurts..."

"I know what it is to see something and hurt for wanting it." Gwyllynir's fingers paused in his hair, his eyes going distant in a way that left Maerenath wondering just what pain of his brother's he had missed. "But you have to let it go."

"I know." he admitted softly, turning his cheek to hide his face against his brother's knee. "But I don't know how." Maerenath knew those who had not known them as long as Fianynlas all assumed Gwyllynir was the eldest. He understood how they made the mistake. Gwyllynir was the one who smiled and spoke and made friends of everyone in the Court. He was the one who had all the answers. Except to this.

Gwyllynir's fingers smoothed through his hair, combing it until every last strand fell into place, trailing his fingertips along his nape in a way that was almost numbingly relaxing and yet woke tingles in him all at once. "The only thing I know..." Gwyllynir said, his voice almost startling after the length of the silence, despite how quietly he had spoken. "Is to take joy in what you have."

Maerenath looked up, not really surprised to find Gwyllynir bending in toward him. "What do I have?" He demanded.

His brother's antlered brow pressed gently against his for a moment. "You have me." Gwyllynir said gently. "We always have each other when we have nothing else."

He nodded and leaned up, pressing his lips demandingly hard against the familiar welcome of Gwyllynir's, as though he could lose the ache inside him with their touch. His twin's fingers tightened in his hair and he kissed back with an eagerness that almost surprised Maerenath, as though he too had some desperate hunger he was trying to ease.

***

Something smelled like burning. Maerenath stepped back from the tree, the apple slipping unpicked from his fingers and drew in another breath, sure that brief hint of bitter smoke had been a trick of his mind. Apples, leaves, rich dark soil, moss, but no, there it was again, that sharp tang across the tapestry of scents that colored his view of the Forest. Something was wrong. He couldn't have said exactly what it was that made him so sure that faint hint of a smell was truly a danger, but he was running before he had time to consider it.

It was not hard to find Gwyllynir. He was just where he had left him, in one the glades around the great heart tree, laughing with the crowd under the twining branches. His flight slowed there at the edge, one hand lifting to touch the nearest branch as he drew in another deep breath. Surely he was mistaken. But no, the bitter smell of the smoke was an even stronger flavor to the forest's scent now and as he watched one of the other Pack brothers looked up from the leather he was smoothing over his lap, as though he too had caught the hint of it.

One of the wolves stood, letting out a sharp warning bark, and from all around the heart tree he heard it answered. Gwyllynir's eyes turned to his, wide and questioning and Maerenath took in another breath, turning as he did to see if he could pinpoint the direction of the scent. And there in the distance light sparked and flared.

He froze for a moment, watching that faint glow grow brighter. There was a sound now, like a distant wind and behind him the glade had fallen silent, laughter and voices dying out until nothing remained to compete with that far off sound but the soft whisper of the heart tree's leaves and the gurgle of the stream. Fire.

And now he could hear other sounds amid that whooshing roar, cracks of small explosions, and screams as wood and wet leaves went up. The light had become a blaze in seconds, spreading through the distant trees and growing nearer. For a moment they were all frozen by it. A fire in the Forest was impossible. But the smell of it was even clearer now than the sound.

Maerenath wasn't sure which of those behind them cried out first. But within moments the fae were scattering, and silence had become a chaos of yelling and running. Gwyllynir's hand suddenly tightened on his arm and he startled, not sure when his brother had come up beside him.

"We have to find a Gate and get out. We have to find Fianynlas..." Gwyllynir whispered, as though the fire might hear him if he spoke too loudly.

Maerenath swallowed, nodding and started toward the nearest gate. It was burning... everything was burning. He was no longer even sure all of the screams were trees. They had to run, they had to get everybody out and then maybe they could figure out what had happened. He stopped in his tracks suddenly, so quickly that he felt Gwyllynir collide with the back of his shoulder. But his own eyes were trailing frantically over the scattering crowd around the heart tree, looking for one specific fae.

"Maer, what... we have to go..." There was fear roughening his twin's voice now. "We'll burn."

"We have to find Melanthios." He snapped, turning back toward the flames. He couldn't even have said why he thought so, why he felt suddenly so certain that the shadow fae was in danger, somewhere in that inferno. But as soon as he had said the words Maerenath was certain. He knew it as surely as breathing. Melanthios had been different this last week. He couldn't put into words how only that it was as strange and wrong as this fire. There had been a taint in his scent like an open wound. "Now. We have to find him now!" He grabbed at Gwyllynir's arm, felt his brother wince under the force of his grip.

"Where?"

He took another deep breath, trying to find something of familiarity in air now full of the scent of smoke and burning. He wasn't sure how he knew. Perhaps he caught the edge of scent somehow, though he could not say he was certain of anything at all but the stinging that began in his eyes and that Melanthios was somewhere out there. That he was toward the flames rather than away from them. His grip shifted from Gwyllynir's arm to his hand and he started to run.

***

It was an inferno. There was magic in that fire, he could smell it there as thick as the smoke that blurred his eyes and choked his breath. But now he could smell Melanthios too. This close the scent of him was strong and more clear than the smoke. He was beautiful even now. Even standing there staring up at flame-crowned trees, seemingly unaware of the embers stinging his own skin and the flames that had caught in his shirt. Maerenath had never seen anyone look so lovely. Or so utterly lost.

It seared pain into his heart and he released his hold on his twin, rushing forward to catch the shadow fae by the arms, smothering flames with his palms as he shook him. "Melanthios! We have to get out. We have to run!"

There was fire all around them. The air too hot to breathe, and Maerenath still couldn't understand how. How could the Forest burn? What sort of magic could burn Fianynlas' trees like this? But then another jerk of his arms finally brought Melanthios' eyes from staring into the flames back to his and when he saw the look in them Maerenath knew. Whatever had started that fire the pain in the shadow fae's eyes was feeding it.

"Maer, It's all going up... we have to go..." Gwyllynir's voice was hoarse with fear and smoke at his shoulder.

He only nodded, staring into the fathomless pain in Melanthios' eyes. "We have to run." He told the shadow fae again.

"Leave me!" Melanthios screamed the words in his face like a wounded beast. "Leave me here!"

"Maer..." He could feel Gwyllynir shifting at his back, like a stag ready to bolt.

"I know." He snapped, then jerked himself at the sound as one of the great trees crashed burning to the forest floor. "We have to go." He told Melanthios again, but this time he didn't wait for the answer that was screamed back at him, only scooped the shadow fae up into his arms and turn tear-filled eyes around them. Everywhere was burning.

"The old gate."

He spared his brother a single curt not before turning toward the place the blaze was thinnest and beginning to run. He could hardly see, the smoke turned his lungs inside out and blurred his eyes. He had known these Forest trails as long as they had been but he could not see where to place his feet over the body of the fae in his arms. But Gwyllynir was just behind him, hands coming out now and again to steer his shoulders or warn him silently of obstacles.

The forest was screaming and roaring and burning all around them, but the old gate was there just ahead and there was enough magic left in it that when he reached out he saw it spark and flare and tear wide a portal into the mortal realm. It didn't matter to him at the moment where it went, so long as it was out of the fire.

Almost there. He latched his blurring eyes onto the shimmer of the portal, drew in a deep breath of air that burned, and tightened his grip on Melanthios for a last burst of speed. Gwyllynir's fingers fell from their light touch on his shoulder for a moment, but it didn't matter, he could still hear his twin's steps just behind him.

His ears were full of the sounds of the forest's death throes, the dull crackling roar of the fire, wood creaking and screaming as it burned, the distant thunder of a falling trunk. He could smell the magic of the gate, so close now it almost overpowered the scent of smoke and burning. He didn't try to speak, only tightened his grip on the fae in his arms and stepped forward.

There was a voiceless scream just behind him in the roar of the flames, a warning, creaking sort of pop that made his blood run cold. Maerenath started to turn, but Gwyllynir's hands hit him hard in the back, sending him stumbling forward in an attempt to keep from falling down atop Melanthios. There was a crashing rumble like thunder behind him and a suddenly his back was agony, searing in the dozen places the flying embers had caught. Gwyllynir screamed.

He turned, only steps from the gate, as much because he had suddenly lost the steadying rythym of Gwyllynir's feet as for that scream. The antlered fae was pinned half beneath a burning trunk, one hand oustretched toward him and face frantic. His own movements stopped for just a moment, arms tightening on Melanthios as he met Gwyllynir's emerald eyes. His first instinct was to set the shadow fae down and run to try and help.

But the pain in Melanthios's eyes had been just as deep as that he saw in his brother's now. All around them was inferno and Melanthios had wanted to stay. He was frozen for a breath, all too aware of the crackling scream of the flames and Gywllynir's cries. He only had two hands, or four paws, one body and two people he loved more than anything in either world. It wasn't a choice. How could he choose between his heart and his blood? But he had to do something.

Tearing his eyes from his brother he turned back to the gate, stumbled through the portal and into air that was so blessedly clear that drawing it in hurt him. He could still hear the fire behind him, the sound distorted by the gate, sounding far more distant than the mere steps he'd carried them from it.

He set Melanthios hastily down. "Wait here for me." He rasped. "Wait, right here."

"Don't go. Please don't go."

He hadn't expected the words, or the tears he saw trailing from the shadow fae's dark eyes down over the raw, burned skin of one cheek. Maerenath's heart twisted in his chest with fresh agony. Behind him he could still hear Gwyllynir screaming. And he could feel it somehow, a twisting pain deep inside of him, as though part of his soul was burning with him. "I'll be back. But you stay here. Stay safe, Mel, please."

The shadow fae's fingers closed on his, gripping, almost bruising pleading just as loudly as his words and the sight of his tears. But Gwyllynir. For a moment Maerenath stared into those tear-filled eyes, his heart aching with a thousand might-have-beens. He held Melanthios' gaze and pulled his wolf-shape down around him, finding the strength he needed in that familiar form.

He had no words to answer or explain as he pulled back again, tearing his paw from Melanthios' grip, all he could offer was one low affectionate whine before he turned back through the gate and into the fire.

***

It was hotter than it had been when he left, Maerenath couldn't see through the heat that stung his eyes and his nose was just as blinded by the smoke. But he could feel Gwyllynir, a fading light in his heart that drove him frantically through a maze of burning that seemed to have grown in the mere moments since he left it.

It shouldn't have been so far. But Gwyllynir was a guttering ember in his heart, tearing with it some part of him he didn't have a name for. It hurt and he howled once, plunging toward that spark as it dimmed and went out inside him.

Gwyllynir was gone. There was nothing of him left in the fingers he nudged with his nose or in skin that smelled like burning even more strongly than the smoke that surrounded him. All that he could smell that was Gwyllynir was in the acorn-like seed that had fallen singed from that limp hand.

The wolf took it carefully in his teeth, holding it as tenderly as a cub's paw as he turned to weave his way back through the fire toward the faltering shimmer of the gate. Something was missing when he found his way back through it. Something as important as the precious burden in his jaws. He whined, uncertain whether to chase that scent or the other one first.

Fianynlas. The wolf wasn't sure what the name meant, but it was important and it was that scent he turned toward in the end. It did not take him long to find the tall fae, a cloaked figure shivering in a glade just outside a place that reeked of mortals.

There was something wrong in his scent. Something like fire and sickness and pain. The hand that reached out to him was shaking and the wolf hesitated a moment before setting his small and precious burden into those quivering fingers. The fae was pale, skin tinted grey, and here and there he could see light crackling and sparking under the skin, as though inside of him the tall fae burned too.

"Oh no, Gwyll..." The fae moaned as his fingers closed over the seed and there was such agony in his voice that Maerenath flinched. And those words, he did not understand them but a part of him had wanted to say them too so he answered them with a single low howl of his own.

The tall fae slumped until they were of a height and the wolf stretched out his nose, to scent him again. It was the right smell even under the scent of pain and sickness. And the seed's smell mingled with it in the hand that now lifted to a cheek that crackled as though flames burned under the unbroken skin. That mingling of smells was right too.

But the wolf couldn't settle. He couldn't seem to find it in himself to curl up beside the tall fae and lick at the tiny burns that peppered his own legs and back and sides. Something was still wrong. Something was missing. He had lost something just outside the gate, something at least as precious as that tiny seed and the fae who held it.

He touched his nose once again to the tall fae's hand then started to turn, back toward where he had lost the scent. "No, Maerenath, please don't leave me..." He had never heard that voice sound so desperate and in pain. His ears shifted back, paws moving uneasily against the ground. But that other scent was lost. This was as it should be now and that was not.

Whining low, the wolf swiped his tongue once over the back of the tall fae's hand and then turned to lope back the way he had come. He had lost something. Something terribly important he did not know how to explain. And nothing could ever be right until he found it again. @fateandmyth

#Gwyllynir #Maerenath #Gwyll #Maer #Lords of the Hunt #Melanthios #Fianynlas #The Forest

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