3 comments/ 15996 views/ 12 favorites The Daemon's Tale Ch. 01 By: ArcherxLewis Long, pale fingers twisted a lock of white-blonde hair that fanned silkily across his pillow. It was soft and smelt faintly of oranges; she used the citrus fruit when she bathed as both perfume and cleanser. Those same elegant fingers trailed from her hair to her shoulder, more tanned than his cream complexion, a pretty gold. She stirred in her sleep and a faint smile crept across rose-petal lips. He wondered what she was dreaming about. He continued his lazy exploration, soft strokes along the curve of her waist and the swell of her breast. She stirred and smiled more certainly now and he could tell she was awake. Maybe fearful it was a dream, though, she didn't open her eyes. She simply lay there open to his touch, and before long his sensuous fingers had enlivened her; with his hyperactive senses he could smell her arousal with ease. He dropped his lips to her shoulder and trailed slow, teasing kisses along her back and throat, barely even hesitating when he felt her pulse thrum under his lips. She couldn't have noticed though, not when she was distracted by his clever fingers slipping lower and pressing firmly into her, drawing a quiet gasp. Her eyes flew open then, the hazel orbs glazed with lust, and he chuckled softly once as he pinned her beneath him. "Stop teasing me, Gabriel." She pouted at him and tugged half-heartedly at his hold on her wrists but she did not really want to get away and, even if she did, he held her easily with one hand. He was misleadingly strong and though you wouldn't guess it from his lean, lightly muscled frame and polite, aristocratic features he was devastatingly powerful -- but not just physically. Everything about this man was fascinating and hypnotic. He smiled playfully as she admonished him for taunting her and dropped his head to kiss her throat once more, completely ignoring her entreaties. His exploration of her body was torturously slow and pleasurable; he breathed warmly in her ear, planted kisses in the sensitive hollow by her hip, undressed her slowly bit by bit. He savoured every moment before finally catching her in the middle of a frustrated groan with a hungry, bruising kiss. She arched beneath him at once, her breath catching in her throat. Her movements, her smell, the softness of her skin, the soft noises she made as she increasingly lost herself in their joint desires, were enough to drive him to distraction. He longed for nothing more than to sink into her, relieve the building pressure of his lust, watch as she was overcome by her own. But he would not rush this because every second, every long teasing minute, was the expression of their relationship in physical form. The longer he could extend this part of the day the happier and more satiated they would both be. One didn't need to hurry when right here, right now, exactly like this, was the perfect place to be. He deepened the kiss and as his lust warred with his self-control, his fangs began to lengthen. He'd learned to control this reaction over time; the emergence of his true nature when he let himself lose focus. He wasn't perfect though and as he broke the kiss and nibbled her lower lip those fangs broke her skin and drew blood. Far from reacting with fear, though, she grew all the more desperate for his attentions. In turn, he grew more impatient too. She had grown used to him over time and no longer feared what he could become, even knowing that in their most intimate moments with desire flooding his veins he was almost at his most dangerous. If anything the rusty, salty taste of the blood heightened his desire for her and she responded with increased urgency of her own. He trailed kisses over her throat and collarbone now, heat from his body causing them both to perspire slightly. The salty tang of her skin was just another aphrodisiac to him and she, too, was so over-sensitised that she cried out when he caught a firm nipple in his teeth and bit gently. The other also received a bruise from his attentions and the scent of her desire filled the room. He could no longer continue the teasing when that smell overwhelmed his heightened senses and with an animalistic growl he caught her off-guard again with a fierce, demanding kiss at the same time that he entered her in one smooth stroke. She moaned in ecstasy, arching beneath him, pressing her body along his and demanding more. His movements were slow and controlled at first and he held her gaze with his own. She was entranced as usual, unable to drag her gaze away from the beautiful bright teal orbs of the man that was bringing her slowly to the heights of pleasure. They were almost unnatural -- too bright, like jewels in his pale visage, fringed with dark lashes. His pupils were dilated with lust like her own but this did nothing to lessen his power over her. His eyes were utterly hypnotic and she was just as lost as she'd always been every time she looked at him. A soft groan escaped his lips as he moved in her, the sensation only heightened as his magic took over and enchanted her hopelessly. He'd always been charismatic, persuasive, fascinating, but it was this enhancement that made him irresistible. Not that she'd ever seemed to want to resist, he thought feverishly as they built towards an incredible crescendo. From the moment they'd set eyes on each other all those years ago they'd been connected. He could tell she was close when, despite his hypnotic gaze and the increasingly strong scent of dark honey and roses he exuded, her eyes slid half shut and she strained against his weight pinning her to the bed. A wicked smile crossed his features as he slid a hand between them and expertly stroked her sensitive bud. It was enough -- more than enough -- and he muffled her scream with another breath-taking kiss when she came. And her climax, causing her to tighten around him, took him over the edge too. He bit her shoulder as he released himself in her and felt warm blood flood his mouth as she clung closer to him and they both lost themselves in their desire. He held her once they'd recovered, protective rather than restraining now. Her breathing became slow and regular within minutes after the exertion and he was weary too. The smell of oranges, roses and honey was thick in the air, a comfortingly familiar aroma of his powerful pheromones and her subtle perfume. With her warm against him he drifted off easily, a blanket of utter peace settling over the room. xxx The moon rose full and glowing that night, a heavy orb in the night sky with the splattering of distant stars for company. She threw her ethereal silver light across the city and through windows with unabashed enthusiasm, creeping into windows where curtains had not been drawn. One such window allowed access to the sleeping man and woman who had been so lost in the throes of passions only hours earlier. Silver moonlight spilled over their faces, peaceful in sleep. She was clearly human with her soft golden skin smattered lightly with freckles and charming, pretty features. White-blonde hair scented with oranges fanned lightly across the pillow once more, infusing the man's dreams with citrus. And the man, in reality, was not really a man at all. The moonlight picked out his symmetrical features, elegant and aristocratic, too perfect for him to be human. Similarly his skin was too pale, his complexion too ethereal and almost translucent. Dark hair spilled over his closed eyes, black to her blonde, tousled with sleep. And beneath the thin sheet the softness of her body contrasted with the hard, muscular planes of his. If he had smiled while he slept one might have seen the final clue of wickedly sharp fangs, sharper than human canines even when retracted, but it wasn't necessary. He was, quite clearly, a Daemon. It was not unheard of, a pairing between human and Daemon. It was unusual of course because Daemons were by nature violent creatures and humans were woefully vulnerable to their claws and fangs and magic, but it happened sometimes. The human woman had come to trust the Daemon's self control and in turn the Daemon had learned the need to be gentle with her, and to protect her from a world which was alarmingly hostile to such undefended creatures. She was safer with him than she could have possibly been alone because, in their mutual bond of love, they needed each other. He was the strongest, most dangerous creature of this world and with him at her side she was protected. But not protected enough. The beautiful, peacefully slumbering man was no ordinary Daemon and this was their downfall. His name was Gabriel, his title Jhaedaes Os Tar. Gabriel, Leader of Chaos. He was the Daemon Lord, ruler of all the Daemons of this world, and with the honour and responsibility of that position came danger. The Daemons were true to their violent, predatory natures and their Lord was selected on the basis of power. He who could fight off all attackers, all possible usurpers, held his title. He who did not perished and in doing so relinquished the role to the victor. Gabriel had held the position for over one hundred years for Daemons live more than eight times the lifespan of a human, so an immediate threat seemed unlikely. However other dangers lurked in his world for the unwary. No, the danger was that the mate he had chosen was not a Daemon. There were those among his kind that believed her unworthy of her title and who feared for the watering down of the Daemon bloodline should they produce children. Daemons should remain to themselves, they argued, because only if they retained everything that made them the creatures they were could they remain the strongest race. In electing a human to be the mate of the Lord the prestige and power of the Daemons were undermined and, further, Gabriel was unavailable for more suitable partners. It was this motivation that must have sent her over the wall in the city and caused her to scale the wall of the building that Gabriel and his mate slept in. It was this fear that caused her to glare at the woman silently, blocking the moonlight from her face. And it was this jealously that drove her across the room in one silent leap to clutch the woman's throat in clawed hands. Gabriel was fast, far faster than the attacker, but he'd been asleep when she'd struck. Sluggish after their earlier exertions and a dulling of his normally faultless senses slightly after years of peaceful life within the city, a place which most Daemons avoided, had put him at a disadvantage. He awoke in time to snarl furiously at the attacker, his claws and fangs lengthening immediately. He was too late, though, to wrench the clawed hand away before the sickening sound of a neck cracking caused him to freeze. Several long seconds passed in which he stared at his attacker in blind disbelief. She was a vampire, another breed of Daemon, with long pale hair and elegant features. If she'd been human she would have looked a lot like his mate but her Daemonic blood obliterated any meaningful comparison -- like Gabriel she was too pale, too perfect to be human. She could never be compared to the now dead woman sprawled inelegantly on his bed and for that reason he would have no problem killing her. An ear-shattering roar shook the room and he lunged for her, claws outstretched. Perhaps she'd hoped he would pick her now his mate was gone because she was too slow to move or put up any kind of meaningful fight. Her counterattack was certainly nothing to sneer at as she thrust her claws deep into his shoulder joint but it was ultimately ineffective. He was far too angry and provoked to let it even slow him down. With a cold snarl he dug his claws into her windpipe and, exercising sheer strength, tore it out. She fell to her knees with a gurgle and was dead before she hit the ground. Gabriel stood for a moment in the now silent room, breathing heavily. Blood dripped sluggishly from the wound in his shoulder and mingled with the blood of the vampire which had splattered his chest during the altercation, but he barely felt the pain. His world was already consumed by an entirely different and far more unbearable agony. She still lay on the bed where the vampire had dropped her, limbs sprawled and eyes wide and staring. If it wasn't for the awkward angle of her neck she could have been fine, alive...his. But Gabriel didn't have to check to see she was dead. He'd heard her neck snap loud and clear, the single most shocking sound he'd ever experienced. And he could no longer hear her breathing, a sound which had always been so loud to his sensitive ears before, something he'd teased her about uncountable times as a charming human quirk. No, he didn't need to check. She wasn't here anymore because already the magnetic pull he'd felt towards her since the day they'd met was gone. He had no connection to this lifeless body because although she still looked like his mate, nothing else felt familiar. Already the smell of oranges was fading, lost in his own living scent of honey and roses. As a final mark of respect for the woman he'd loved he smoothed her hair and closed her eyes, but he didn't kiss her. Already he knew it wouldn't feel the same. "Goodbye Katherine." He didn't look back as he left the room they'd shared for nearly ten years, dressed in his simple usual attire of black cotton pants. He was painfully aware that only his memories of her existed now and he feared that too much time spent with her lifeless caricature would sully those memories. Gabriel Jhaedaes Os Tar, the Daemon Lord, slipped through the familiar streets of the human city and made his way to the gates. Beyond them lay the true home of the Daemons and many other creatures of this world -- it was the humans that had built the cities and walled them in against the dangers that lurked in the Forest. It was easy enough to slip past the guards. Gabriel had been living among the humans for years now and although they could always tell what he was they tolerated him because of his magic. The same magic that had enchanted his mate in their most intimate, private moments could also charm others with casual ease. He was talented with that magic and could dull the natural panic reaction that humans had to the alien, dangerous Daemons. He could come across as charismatic and persuasive. He could weave a spell for them; cause them to fall under his sway. He could hypnotise them into doing almost anything he wanted. And with this clever trick they forgot that Gabriel was a Daemon and became benevolent towards him. They overlooked the fact that Daemon's were not as a rule welcome behind their wall. They even smiled and waved to him as he left the place he's called home for the past decade. Just a metre or so beyond the wall the Forest rose to greet him, a near solid wall of greenery. He didn't hesitate in finding a path to wind through for, though he had lived in the city these past few years, he'd returned here regularly as the Daemon Lord to converse with others of his kind and maintain order within the very loosely defined and enforced laws they upheld. This time was different though. There was no city waiting for him to return, no women he'd fallen in love with. Because thinking about that was too difficult in the moonlight-soaked forest that night, he didn't. Gabriel Jhaedaes Os Tar renounced the self-control that made him charming and likeable. He allowed his fangs to snake over his chin and his claws to lengthen to dagger-like points. His eyes, normally bright teal, darkened almost to black and he tensed, scenting the air carefully. When he picked up the trail of a herd of roe deer that was several days old he slipped into the shadows beneath the trees and more or less disappeared. The only thing that would be seen of Gabriel for the following month would be the occasional flash of silver-pale skin as he slunk beneath the trees. A predator, a hunter, he didn't think consciously or plan. He would live day by day, eating when he was hungry and sleeping when exhausted. He would be more animal than man, relying solely on his instincts to lead him through the forest. He had no destination or purpose. And perhaps while he was lost in the baser drives of being a predator he would not have to think about her, about what he no longer had, or about how he had failed to protect her. The Daemon's Tale Ch. 02 Thank you all so much for the warm reception to the beginning of this story. It was indeed a short start because I intended it only to set up the scene for Gabriel's future behaviour, but the chapters should be longer from here on in. I hope you enjoy this one. ~Archer~ ********* It was a warm day in early spring when a hunting Daemon trailed to a stop outside the gates of the Faerie Council. He had not meant to come here, or to stop at all. Lost in the mind of a predator and driven solely by instinct he didn't have to think or more importantly, feel. The pain dulled to a barely registered ache and he could push the memories aside to live in the moment. But the gates had distracted him. Somewhere in the fog of predatory instinct a half-formed thought registered. He'd been meaning to come here, hadn't he? Slowly the fog cleared and as the Daemon straightened from his hunting crouch he became less Daemonic, more human in appearance. His eyes brightened to resplendent teal, his fangs and claws retracted. He remained streaked with dirt and animal blood of course, but as his conscious self crawled unwillingly back he became recognisable once more. Gabriel Jhaedaes Os Tar, the Daemon Lord, had returned from more than a month lost somewhere in the wilderness where he had been unable to be contacted and unable to be found. Unlike the humans, the Faerie's did not post guards at their gates. Magic protected the curved wooden structure instead such that only those who knew the charm would be able to enter. Gabriel used his teeth to tear a small wound in his palm and pressed it against the gate which promptly swung open and admitted him without question. The Faerie's had allowed such a feat to the Daemon Lord, trusting of his intentions and to allow political matters to be undertaken with ease. Today though it was a slightly dazed, injured and noticeably weary Daemon that trudged down their silver paths lined with silvery trees. The Faerie's lived in wooden structures, shaping the trees with their clever magic without ever damaging or killing them. To these creatures the Forest was their life source and its health was vital to their own. Gabriel ignored most of the dwellings and their inhabitants though, passing by azure-winged Fairies and solemn Elves without a second glance. Not only was he too familiar with their whimsical appeal to be moved by the atmosphere of this place and these people, but the pain that came with the memories was now fresh at the forefront of his mind. The crack of a breaking neck echoed in his head and dead hazel eyes obscured his vision. How could one appreciate the beauty and magic here when death filled their mind? Nonetheless Gabriel knew the Faeries would give him a place to stay. They would welcome his presence and he could pass the time in discussions with the Council, receive updates on the state of the war, report back about the Daemon race. He could stay here as long as he liked, he knew, in the company of pretty and magical creatures. He could stay until he healed, perhaps, and more than just physically. The Faeries were fascinated by the charming, powerful Daemon Lord; moved by his powers of persuasion, captivated by his striking appearance. Here he could learn to remember her with fondness rather than with anger and grief. "Gabriel. It has been a long time, my friend." The Fairy that greeted him was close to one thousand years old and despite the silver streaks in his bright red hair and laughter lines around his eyes and mouth, he still retained the distinctive beauty of his kind. His features were sharp and angular and he was delicate in build. Deep red and cream wings arched over his slightly stooped back, shaped like those of an exotic butterfly and azure in the dappled sunshine. He wore flowing cream robes and carried an oak cane, which he leaned on as he reached his other hand to clasp Gabriel's shoulder welcomingly. "Too long," Gabriel agreed, inclining his head briefly in greeting. The Fairy was Tiran, the Council Elder, most magically powerful of the entire Faerie race and as such essentially their leader. "Forgive me, son, but you are not looking your usual dapper self." "I've had some...trouble, lately." Gabriel did not elaborate because he could not bring himself to speak the words aloud. Fortunately Tiran could read his need for privacy quite easily and did not press for further information. "Your usual quarters are being readied as we speak, Gabriel. I thought from the state of you that you might like to stay a while." "That would be appreciated Tiran. I expect to be in the Forest for the foreseeable future and I could do with somewhere like this right now." Gabriel's voice, normally slightly gravelly and velvety and yet another potent source of enchantment, was now lacklustre and unenthusiastic. Katherine's death had affected him to his very core and Tiran was alarmed to see his old friend lacking so many of the quirks that had defined him. A once brash, charismatic Daemon, Gabriel now seemed defeated. It was a dramatic change. "Take as much time as you need." Gabriel thanked the old Fairy wordlessly when he returned the affectionate pat on the shoulder as he walked past, winding his way deeper into the labyrinth that formed the Faerie stronghold within the Forest. His room was located at the very top of a silver birch, the windows uncovered and open to the elements in order to prevent him feeling claustrophobic. Daemons valued freedom over anything else and being walled in was very uncomfortable. This was why his room in the city had not had glazed windows, he reflected with a slight jolt. This was why the Vampire had been able to reach Katherine without waking him. His own Daemonic weapons might not have killed her but in the end his Daemon nature had allowed it. A frustrated growl escaped his throat as the macabre thoughts took hold once more. Now that he was back in control, a consciously functioning Daemon rather than an instinctive predator, he couldn't seem to quell them. Images and ideas clogged his thought processes and demanded his attention. It was utterly exhausting and each thought, each picture brought a fresh stab of agony. Having already used one avenue of escape by living wild and unencumbered by conscious processes for over a month, Gabriel knew he needed another escape. Fortunately, that escape beckoned to him the moment he stepped into his familiar room. Sparsely furnished and very simple, the circular room that was open to the gentle breeze and fading sunlight was almost entirely dominated by a huge four poster bed placed directly in the centre. Deep red coverings were the only colour in the room and though he noticed vaguely that it was about the colour of blood, it had never seemed so welcoming. He collapsed onto it without bothering to clean the evidence of weeks of hunting and living in the Forest away, too troubled and tired to even dress into something other than the now tattered black cotton pants that were his only attire. Within seconds sleep claimed him -- not the pleasant drifting kind full of playful dreams, but the soundless black of physical and mental exhaustion. He sunk into it without trying to fight it. Here, he might find some relief. xxx Warm sunlight fell liberally over his face and chest and never had a sensation felt more pleasant. He stirred and stretched languidly, almost cat-like in his movements, but did not open his eyes. For some reason he thought he might be dreaming, that the peace and pleasantness of this moment somehow could not be a part of his reality. Just in case he decided not to look around; if he was awake then something told him he should try to sink back into the warm refuge of sleep. Why, though? Why should he need to fall back to sleep so urgently? Because the need was pressing now but rather than being able to fulfil that need, he now felt uneasy. A half-formed darkness hovered at the edge of his consciousness and he knew he shouldn't feel so peaceful, even with the pleasantness of the morning sun bringing him gently back into the world of the awake. Katherine. With a choked gasp Gabriel sat bolt upright, clawed hands tearing the sheets. He looked around himself wildly for a moment because he didn't recognise his surroundings but flooding back now were all the memories, all the unwanted feelings. Katherine was dead. He'd failed to protect her. And he was reliving her loss in his head over and over again, hundreds of times each waking, conscious minute. Any peacefulness he'd felt drained away so quickly he felt ill. And all of a sudden, he was exhausted again. He contemplated slipping back into the dark relief of sleep. It would be easy to do so, with this heavy tiredness weighing him down as though actual, physical bonds restrained his normally boundless energy. His vitality seemed to have drained away though, killed at the same time Katherine was by the calculated strength of one of his own. Even the risk of nightmares couldn't quite deter him. However at the same time he sank back onto the now ruined bedding and allowed his eyes to slide shut came two soft taps on his door. Damn the Gods. Gabriel let out a soft growl and dragged himself from the sanctuary of the bed. Normally volatile and dramatic when angered, today there was no storming across the room to snarl at the disturbance. Instead his pace was lethargic and his shoulders were slumped as he trudged over to open the door, with even the fresh spring-scented breeze flowing unheeded through his glassless windows failing to enliven him. A loud click accompanied his opening of the door and Gabriel turned dull teal eyes to look at the intruder. An Elf. She was almost as tall as him, unusual for a woman though less so among her kind, with copper-brown hair and soft blue eyes. Like all Elves she was elegant and aristocratic in her appearance with symmetrical, elegant features that had a slight exotic slant. A few light brown freckles dusted her nose, an unusual feature among the Faeries, but it did not detract from the whimsical beauty she shared with all of her kind. They were so different to the Daemons, these natives of this world; attractive in a delicate, magic-infused way where his kind were striking, attention-grabbing and dramatic. Her colours, like the other Faeries, were soft and pretty, for instance; earthy brown in her hair, faded blue in her eyes, the dusky gold of her skin. He stood out here for this reason -- his hair a theatrical black, his skin stunning silver, his eyes too-bright teal. He knew her purpose for coming immediately; her robes were the colour of new grass so she couldn't be anything other than a healer. Only then did Gabriel remember the wound the vampire had inflicted on his shoulder, a wound which had been untended for over a month and bathed in dirt for most of that time. Sure enough, a glance at the relevant shoulder confirmed an infection had settled in. "Sorry to disturb you, Jhaedaes, but Tiran sent me to treat your wounds. He thought you might have slept enough to put up with me, just for a little while." Her smile was disarmingly sweet. Gabriel had grown used to the Elves being aloof, studious creatures with little interest in wasting time in conversation, but this woman's easy manner and charm suggested otherwise. "Call me Gabriel," he replied shortly. A little bluntly too -- he hadn't meant to be rude but his humour was far from regained. Charming though this Elf was, he couldn't seem to muster the energy to be his usual charming self in return. "How long have I been sleeping?" "It is the third morning after the day you arrived," she replied, brushing past him without waiting for an invitation. The state of the wound must have surpassed her need to be deferent. Several days then, Gabriel realised. It seemed impossible that he still felt tired and yet the weight pressing down on mind and spirit was as relentless as it was undeniable. "You scarcely look rested though, Gabriel," she observed, catching his face in one slender hand to peer into his eyes. Startled by the invasion of personal space he tried to step back, only to find the wall behind him. The Elf was all business it seemed, intent on assessing and restoring his health regardless of his lack of tolerance for her attentions right now. Her manner remained gently concerned and quiet however and the Daemon had to admit she was well suited to her role of healer. Despite his impatience she was soothing to be around. "Sit, please." Gabriel sat on the ornately carved chair which was the only other piece of furniture in his room so the Elf would be able to easily treat his wounds. He watched as she prepared tinctures and cleansers which were then applied to the several small cuts and grazes obtained from his weeks living roughly in the Forest. She hummed and whistled as she worked, thankfully not a particularly chirpy tune but a pretty one, melodious and unmistakably written by the Faeries. Yes, she was rather soothing. For the first time since Katherine's death Gabriel was surprised to find himself experiencing a few waking minutes in which he was reasonably relaxed. The Elf worked quickly, frowning slightly at the sorry state of the Daemon Lord as she did so. He was still a handsome man, no doubt about that, but his characteristic spark was absent. She'd never spoken to him before since he'd never needed a healer of her calibre until now but even from a distance his vitality and charisma had been obvious. This man sitting so still and quiet as her gentle hands worked their magic could have been an entirely different Daemon altogether if it wasn't for those distinctive bright teal eyes. None of them knew what had happened to reduce Gabriel to such a state but she knew it must have been terrible to have such an effect on the resilient, powerful Daemon. Nothing but great failure or tragedy could have wrought such a devastating change. When she finally turned her attentions to the shoulder wound Gabriel didn't so much as flinch despite the angry redness of the injury and the burgeoning infection it supported. She could tell he was watching her but it was as though part of him was far away. She cleaned it thoroughly and stitched the ragged holes left by what must have been claws, but she didn't ask how he'd received it. It was easy enough for even someone less sensitive to Gabriel's withdrawn, suppressed emotions that it was not something he would divulge indiscriminately, if he ever divulged at all. She was beginning to worry that the Daemon Lord was changed forever. She finished her task by bandaging his shoulder and instructing him to make sure he kept it dry when he bathed. Gabriel only nodded, compliant enough to obey her instructions but devoid of any stronger emotion. Worry gnawed at her thoughts as she packed her things but what more could she do? Something awful had clearly happened to Gabriel and although she was a talented healer there was nothing she could do to ease that kind of pain. But as she left she clasped his hand briefly, a gesture of support for the stricken Daemon, one that caused him to meet her gaze with surprise in his eyes. A final gentle smile was all she could offer him before leaving the room to return to him his privacy. "Wait." The Elf paused and turned to see Gabriel lingering uncertainly in his doorway, seemingly warring with some internal discomfort. She waited silently, encouragement in her expression. "What's your name?" "Vaern," she replied with a smile, before walking silently away. xxx After washing properly for the first time in weeks in the gilded bath that was in the small room adjoining his main one, Gabriel tried to spend more time sleeping. He tossed and turned fitfully for the next twenty four hours but the little sleep he did get was plagued by nightmares of pale-haired Vampires and dying orange trees. He punctuated these stretches of disturbed dozing with agitated pacing of the confines of his room, frustrated and unable to escape his thoughts but unwilling to leave and find a distraction. This room had become a crutch; both hated and needed, the one stable constant in a life that had been torn asunder and yet a prison thanks to his own insecurity. Somehow Vaern had broken through his lethargy and awoken his anger. Slowly, Gabriel's old fire was reigniting and beginning to smoulder. At the same time as the previous day the same two knocks broke through his agitation and his lonely, increasingly wild thoughts. Today he flung the door open and glared at Vaern with darkly burning eyes, his temper obviously frayed and his patience very short. If she was alarmed by the dramatic change that had overcome the Daemon Lord since she'd last visited she didn't show it though. She offered him the same sweet smile and open, friendly expression and instructed him to sit. He did so reluctantly in his agitated state. "You're looking much better Gabriel," she noted, once again applying a mixture of herbs to the smaller cuts and bruises adorning his body. "I don't feel it," he snapped, in no mood to allow her soothing nature to calm him. The thoughts of Katherine and her death had been pressing and heavy yesterday but today they crashed through his mind with careless abandon, each a swirling reminder of his pain. The dull ache that had clogged his throat was now a sharp stabbing somewhere deep in his chest and his inability to find an escape even in sleep frustrated him. He was not used to feeling powerless, to being unable to solve his problems. Gabriel had always been in control before this. It was not Vaern's fault but her initial visit had jolted him out of his apathy and into a stage of grief he was even less equipped to deal with, and he reacted with a predictable shortness of temper. He found no comfort in her deft treatment today. She changed the dressing and thoroughly cleaned his shoulder injury while he sat rigidly, every muscle tense. She noted his stress in the taut cords of tendon running along his neck and clenched fists, could almost feel the anger rolling off him. Though he was still far from himself Vaern was at least a little relieved that the dull, unreacting creature of the previous day was gone. He might be changed forever but even this simmering fury was better than lifeless lethargy. She worked quicker than she normally would have this time. Vaern was no helpless woman but Gabriel looked like he might snap any moment, and being a Daemon could easily revert to his predatory nature and do some damage. Against him she wouldn't stand a chance -- he wasn't the Daemon Lord for nothing -- and she had no desire to be around when he vented his frustrations. She quickly bandaged his shoulder and packed away her equipment, but before she left she gently cupped Gabriel's face in both elegant, gentle hands and caught his coldly burning gaze. "The pain won't last forever, Daemon Lord. I promise." Then swiftly she turned and left. Gabriel stared after her, momentarily stunned into motionlessness. She knew. She might not know all the details but there was understanding in those kind hazel eyes, an expression far preferable to pity which he had not found in her countenance. Somehow she had guessed the cause of his pain was lost love; this he could sense. For a moment he allowed the relief to wash over him, allowed himself to believe her earnest promise, even wondered if she had experienced something like his tragedy to speak so surely of recovery. Just for a moment, a fleeting second, Gabriel found peace. But he was still a Daemon. The moment passed and the anger returned with a vengeance. After sitting still and restraining every taut muscle as the Elf had treated him Gabriel had reached the end of his already shaken self control and white hot fury rolled over his body in almost tangible waves. He was lost, and an ear-shattering roar from his tower caused Vaern to pause at the bottom of the stairs and turn frightened eyes back the way she had come. The Daemon's Tale Ch. 02 For the next few days the peace of the Faerie city was shaken with the intermittent snarling and crashing from Gabriel's room. There were the sounds of splintering wood and of tearing fabric, crashing glass and careless destruction. The trees shook with the force of his anger, an anger that echoed terrifyingly from the tower and caused every Forest inhabitant to pause and wonder at the Daemon Lord's pain. For days Gabriel indulged his anger because every where he looked, whether his eyes were open or not, the sneering face of the pale-haired Vampire swam in front of his vision. She taunted him with Katherine's death and each moment brought a fresh stab of agony but at least this destruction, however futile, gave him something else to think about. It was his next avenue of escape from the horror and though this one would be brief it was better than nothing. The Daemon's Tale Ch. 03 A brief description of Gabriel's world: A few people have questioned some of the details in my story, which is entirely fair enough as although I am engaged in an ongoing roleplay with Gabriel and am therefore familiar with his world, you lovely readers are not -- yet. So here's a little information to guide your further reading of this story. Gabriel's world is inhabited by four races: The Faeries, the Mortals, the Shapeshifters and the Daemons. Within each race exist four species. The Faeries include the Fairies (slight difference in spelling, you'll notice), the Elves, the Muses and the Changelings. The Mortals include the Humans, the Shamans, the Mages and the Sorcerers. The Shapeshifters include the Werebeasts, the Sprites, the Celestials and the Hunters. And the Daemons include the Demons (again a slight variation in spelling -- this is what Gabriel is), the Vampires, the Elementals and the Golems. Each creature in this world has access to a one specific kind of magic -- it might be elemental, for example, or it might be to do with craftsmanship, and so on. Gabriel's magic is known as Bardic and is related to charisma, influence, hypnotism and performance. Furthermore each race has a different leadership style. The Faeries are ruled by a Council in which the most powerful magical being (Tiran, Chapter 2) is the leader. The Mortals are ruled by a royal family which works exactly as the British monarchy does. The Shapeshifters are ruled by an Alpha male and female, who fight for the title, and the Daemons are ruled by a single Daemon Lord -- Gabriel, and the title is also decided by fighting as I have hinted in the story so far. Throughout this story we may come across many of the species I have described above, although probably not all. Hopefully with this basic knowledge you will understand the rest of my tale. Happy reading and as always, thanks so much for your interest. Remember that if you want to see something in the story I welcome suggestions and though I won't use every idea thrown my way I certainly gain inspiration from you guys sometimes. ~Archer~ xxxxxxxxx A timid knock on his door startled Gabriel from his moody reverie; she arrived at the exact same time as her previous visits though of course she had missed several days in order to avoid him at his most dangerous. The commotion had fallen quite silent sometime the previous night however and she must have judged it safe to return to her treatment schedule. Gabriel opened the door to find Vaern wearing a stern expression and her usual pale green robes but she brushed past him wordlessly, hauling her case of healing supplies behind her. The room she arrived to was entirely different to the one she had been in some days previously; it had been a clean, simple room then -- sparsely furnished but elegant and carefully suited to the Daemon Lord's tastes. It was no longer furnished at all. If she hadn't seen the four-poster bed with her own eyes on her last visit Vaern would never have guessed there had been one. It was reduced to splinters, the chunks not even suitable for firewood, with the bedding too shredded beyond recognition. Even the chair was no longer intact and though one might guess it had indeed once been a chair it was well and truly broken, teetering precariously on the edge of collapse. The mirror that had adorned his wall was shattered and strewn over the floor and even the structure of the room hadn't been left untouched -- large chunks had been torn out of the walls. The destruction as single Daemon could cause when that Daemon was the undoubtedly powerful Daemon Lord was quite astounding. Gabriel had the grace to look sheepish but Vaern ignored the scene of destruction; ever the healer, her focus was immediately on her patient. He looked weary now, his energy spent, the fight drained from him by his actions over the last few days. The shadows beneath his eyes were a heavy, bruised purple, all the more noticeable due to his otherwise pale complexion. He hadn't slept since she'd left him last and it showed, the fire in his eyes all but faded now. Though he didn't look as stricken as he had on the first day she had tended him he seemed to have sunk into moody contemplation after his bout of destructive fury. She frowned at him in a matronly way -- how could she heal him if he insisted on making his health worse whenever she left? To Gabriel's relief she didn't tell him off for the alarming state of his room. The Elf was entirely focused on him but she didn't look happy and Gabriel could understand that, though again he was finding it difficult to muster the energy to care. She wasn't about to get any happier either. "Come here, I need to check that shoulder," she instructed firmly, tugging the Daemon by the wrist to a height where she could more easily inspect it. As expected her frown deepened once she unwound the bandaging because during his exertions Gabriel had completely torn out the stitches -- the wound was clean, yes, but in terms of damage was worse than when he'd first arrived. Vaern wasn't best pleased. "You're supposed to be healing, Gabriel, not exerting yourself like a cooped up animal. It's bleeding again, you infuriating Daemon. You make an awful patient you know." Scowling, she dabbed away the drying blood and peered attentively at the injury. Despite himself a lazy smile drifted across Gabriel's features and he rolled his good shoulder in a careless shrug. "I didn't do it on purpose, believe it or not." Vaern sighed, acknowledging the truth of his words with a resigned nod. "I know that, but I'm quite used to my patients actually wanting to get better. You're going to have a terrible scar now." "War wounds. They're supposed to be impressive, aren't they?" Gabriel's quip was light and careless but the moment he actually thought about the words he clammed up all over again. War wounds were all well and good -- he had his share -- but he needed no reminder of the fateful night he'd gained this particular one. All he wanted to do was forget. The Daemon abruptly darkened and Vaern could actually feel the change in the atmosphere as he did so. The man had presence -- each mood swing was impossible to miss by those anywhere near him, as though his emotions rolled off him in palpable waves. And never had she met someone as unpredictable as this Demon; he swung from calm to tense, from obliging to withdrawn, with little more than a wrong word or gesture. Though she didn't show it he made her uneasy because guessing what he might be feeling or doing from minute to minute was near impossible and not only did that make him enigmatic and volatile, it made him perilous to be around. If she was afraid of him though, she hid it well. Vaern laid a hand on Gabriel's forearm, an instinctive gesture from someone of a helping profession that was meant to comfort and reassure. He watched it for a moment with an impassive teal gaze; her honey-coloured hand pretty against the silver-cream of his skin and delicate in its smallness when compared to the tensely corded muscle as he clenched his fist. But it worked; she caught his attention enough to drag his thoughts away from darkness and death by intriguing him with her actions and the motives behind them. Had he failed to notice the charms of the Faeries before because he was so infatuated with Katherine? It was not that he felt he was falling for Vaern but it had been a long time since he'd seen beauty in anything but his pale-haired mate and now he acknowledged that it did indeed exist. The knowledge was bittersweet and certainly not worth losing Katherine for but he found himself slightly soothed nonetheless. Perhaps he was still capable of thoughts that weren't clouded with misery and loss. "There is somewhere I would like to take you, Gabriel." Gabriel looked up and caught Vaern's gaze, finding warmth and openness in the dusky blue orbs. Had his gaze ever looked so welcoming and innocent, he wondered? He doubted it somehow. He didn't possess her goodness or openness of heart, not even before the tragedy that had torn his world apart. There had always been darkness in him and although he didn't think this was a bad thing because it defined him as a Daemon, he did find himself gravitating towards the goodness in the gentle Elf. Perhaps this was why he found her intriguing, he thought idly. He could never have that peace, even if he wasn't sure he wanted it. "Where?" "A healing place. It is some distance from here, though still in the Faerie stronghold. I think it will be good for you. We believe it can soothe both body and spirit." What did he have to lose? Absolutely nothing anymore, Gabriel realised, so with a defeated sigh he nodded. They would no doubt like some time to fix his room and replace his furniture anyway, being ever the gracious hosts despite his terrible behaviour. And how much worse could this experience be than long, torturous hours pacing his room and thinking about Katherine? This had to be rock bottom. Only one way to go, and that was up. "Okay. Take me there." xxx They stepped lightly, this unlikely pair, leaping from moss-covered rock to fallen log with the ease and grace of elegant deer. Or at least Vaern did, with her long limbs and delicate steps. Gabriel could more accurately be described as cat-like with movements no less graceful and yet somehow almost predatory, each languorous stride unintentionally sensuous. It was impossible to trudge through this terrain and the Daemon found he was forced to adopt his more familiar posture and movement in order to follow and keep up with Vaern. She coaxed energy and grace from him with the unspoken challenge of keeping his word in going to her healing place, a feat that Gabriel had to acknowledge as quite significant. He hadn't believed himself capable of finding his old effortless grace once the lethargy of grief had settled in a suffocating blanket over his thoughts and emotions. Now, though, he revelled in it and the blanket lifted ever so slightly. For just a little while he could breathe again as he focused on the exertion of flexing muscles and exercising balance rather than on the loss that defined so many of his waking minutes. He could almost say he was enjoying himself although he didn't examine this relief too closely. He feared in doing so the guilt might overwhelm him; it was a growing emotion to add to the other unwanted ones because he had survived and Katherine, helplessly placing her trust in his protection, had died. No, best not to think about that right now. Fortunately the hours stretched out with ease as Vaern led him wordlessly over hills and up sheer, craggy cliff-faces, through weeping willow trees and melancholy swamps. He focused on the ease with which she picked her path, an ease presumably borne of close familiarity. He noticed how a faint smile tugged at the corners of her lips as they drew closer to their destination. He followed her in picking up the pace when the sound of gurgling water reached their ears. He caught the same fresh, cold scent as her and even smiled at the expression of peace it encouraged in the Elf. Her presence was fast becoming another crutch against his grief and Gabriel found he was powerless to do anything about that -- when relief, however uncertain, was offered, how could he do anything but take it? She had been speaking the truth when she said the healing place was some distance away, for Gabriel's skin was covered in a thin sheen of sweat by the time they arrived. He'd welcomed the physical exertion though and any difficulty in mustering the energy to get here was forgotten when he saw Vaern's sanctuary; Faerie beauty drenched the place and he found himself instantly enchanted. It was a small fresh water spring located in the centre of a stand of mahogany-barked trees. Exotic flowers he couldn't name grew thickly around its edges and willows trailed their branches lazily over the azure surface. He'd heard the Forest of the Faeries was far more alive than trees were elsewhere, coaxed into life by their whimsical magic and lively natures. And here, in this small island of peace that was seemingly insulated against the harsh reality of the rest of his world, Gabriel could believe those stories. While lost in that enchantment the Daemon didn't move for some time. His gaze followed the journeys of small, brightly coloured birds that danced in airborne troupes over the still water and sipped the nectar from unruly wildflowers. He drew in slow, deep breaths that smelt of life and healing. And Vaern couldn't help but be entranced in turn by the Daemon Lord coming slowly back to life; in these few precious moments she caught a glimpse of the man he'd once been -- arrogant, charismatic, striking and hypnotic. She'd never met anyone anything like him, she mused. She could imagine him before the tragedy now; potently charming, devastatingly beautiful, utterly confident. And despite his terrible loss she hoped that she could find the ability to restore him to that unique, powerful individual. "Wonderful, isn't it?" Gabriel nodded wordlessly though Vaern's softly spoken statement tugged him closer to reality, if not entirely back to it, lessening the potent hold the enchantment of the place exacted over him. It hardly dimmed the lustre of the spring though and the Daemon made no protest when Vaern took his hand and tugged him gently but insistently through the thick, sweet-scented foliage to the edge of the water. "The Faeries believe this is one of the places where our magic connects with the land. Bathing in the water is soothing and healing, and although only my kind is supposed to do so the Council granted me permission to bring you here." Gabriel turned to watch Vaern as she spoke to him in her soft, almost musical voice. She fitted so well here, he noticed -- peaceful and calming in nature and yet he could sense the potency of her healing magic; see it simmering behind her dusky blue eyes. "They wish the Daemon Lord to return to strength and retain his power, you see. So many of your kind lack your diplomacy and charm and though they may be an effective leader of the Daemons they do not effectively cooperate and interact with the other species. We have seen violent, impatient Lords before you Gabriel, and although you are far from faultless we do not want to lose you." So much so that she'd brought him to one of their most sacred places, Gabriel mused. And though he was grateful for their concern and the lengths they were willing to go to in order to help him remain Lord, he couldn't even contemplate turning his mind to his political duties now. Pain, still fresh and raw, limited his thought processes to the here and now -- to the beautiful spring and the kind Elf who was surely going above and beyond her call of duty. To the Daemon's surprise Vaern shrugged off her light green robe and then unselfconsciously stepped out of the simple cream dress she wore beneath it. For all the creatures of this world except the Mortals this was normal behaviour; clothing was used to signify status or protect against the elements but the concept of modesty did not exist among the trees. Gabriel himself only ever wore light cotton pants, opting for bare feet and a bare chest, because Daemons had a high natural body temperature and didn't need the barrier against the cold. However something about the intimacy of the setting made him slightly uncomfortable; perhaps it was the continued images of Katherine which dominated his thoughts, and the fact that this felt somehow like he was betraying her. He knew it was ridiculous but still he hesitated as Vaern waded slowly into the spring. She was certainly attractive, he thought idly as he watched her. She was tall and lean with long, elegant limbs, toned from travels through the forest and the Faerie realm. Light golden skin offset the caramel hue of her hair and provided a pretty backdrop for her warm blue eyes, and like all Elves her bone structure was delicate and aristocratic. The light sprinkling of freckles across her nose might have been considered a flaw by some but for Gabriel they enhanced rather than detracted from her beauty, making her seem down-to-earth and friendly at first glance. That impression was an accurate one of course for rarely had Gabriel come across such a compassionate soul, and being able to read her so easily only made him more comfortable around her. Once she was submerged up to her shoulders Vaern turned and beckoned silently to Gabriel, inviting him to join her. Ordinarily he probably wouldn't have, far too consumed by guilt and confusion to do anything but lose his temper, but the enchantment of this place and this person still held. Gabriel stripped off and warily stepped into the shallows. The spring was pleasantly cool though certainly not cold and the Daemon waded slowly deeper, relishing the velvet silkiness of the water against his overheated skin. His eyes slid shut in relaxed delight and he noticed the subtle smell of lavender coming off the water. Vaern stood still and watched Gabriel with a faint smile -- she'd been right to bring him here. He looked much better already. "Come here." Gabriel's eyes flickered open and he complied, drifting lazily in Vaern's direction. Though he felt his vitality had been somewhat restored by the journey here the water had an easing effect on his muscles and he felt no desire to overexert himself. It had been years since he'd felt so calm, he decided. Not since long before he'd become the Daemon Lord over a century before. Vaern cupped her hands to capture some of the water and poured it carefully over Gabriel's injured shoulder once he stood in front of her. She'd also gathered a handful of herbs which she crushed and rubbed gently over the injury, causing the Daemon Lord to hiss at the stinging pain she created. Only moments later though it seemed to go numb, the constant ache he hadn't realised was there easing, and Vaern swum easily around to stand behind him. "Relax, Daemon Lord. I can help you heal." Gabriel did as he was told and the Elf ran her deft hands over the back of his neck and along the tightly corded muscles of his back. Her fingers laboured carefully but skilfully to loosen the knots of tension in his muscles and work away the stresses of not only Katherine's death, but also his responsibilities as the Lord of the Daemons. Gabriel melted helplessly under her touch, almost purring in ecstasy. Had it been so long since he'd stopped to consider his own wellbeing that he'd failed to realise how stressed he'd been? Even when he'd had Katherine he must have been constantly occupied with daily worries, never able to fully let go. Somehow Vaern was doing more than restoring him to the man he'd been before Katherine's death -- she was improving on that man, healing parts of him he hadn't even realised were unwell. "Thank you," he murmured distractedly and Vaern smiled, her fingers sliding through Gabriel's dark hair before resting lightly on his temples, where she resumed the massage. He sank further into the cool water to soothe the flush the Elf was bringing to his silver skin with her talented attentions and to allow her to reach him more easily; though she was taller than most women Gabriel still stood a head over her. No muscle of his upper body was spared her careful ministrations until she finally finished with his hands, having fully examined the elegant bone structure supporting many silver rings set the precious stones, and the shortened but ever-present claws that marked him as a Daemon. Vaern drifted lazily back around in front of him and cupped his face in her hands. "Better, Gabriel?" "Yes," he replied honestly, eyes half-lidded in blissful relaxation and growing weariness. He felt as though he could sleep for days after all the energy he had exerted destroying his room and then travelling to the Faerie spring. The pain of loss was still there -- Vaern couldn't relieve him of that -- but rather than sending rage coursing through his veins and thoughts crashing through his mind the grief was contained in a ball somewhere deep in his chest, aching but bearable and no longer taking over his every reflection and action. The weight that had pressed so heavily on both body and heart became, for now, manageable. The Daemon's Tale Ch. 03 Vaern took his hand and led him out of the water to the grassy bank on the far side, a place where dappled sunshine played light-heartedly over the ground and tall willows gave shade and privacy. They stretched out languidly alongside each other and the water that had run off their bodies in sensual rivulets quickly dried, leaving scattered droplets to reflect rainbow light over their skin. Like day and night, Gabriel thought vaguely, his eyes trailing the lengths of their prone forms; her golden and soft, him silver and lean. This was not a time for thought or feeling, though. He was tired and he gave in to the blackness without a fight. Vaern watched as Gabriel's eyes slid shut and his breathing became slow and regular. The Daemons never aged in appearance and as such his face was not lined or weathered, yet the tightness around his eyes and the grimness of his expression had been eased. He looked peaceful now that he was asleep, and free of nightmares. The Elf crushed and rubbed a new mixture of herbs into the wound on his shoulder; the first had been to numb and relieve pain but this one would stave off infection, allowing him to heal. Her attentions were careful and gentle enough that he didn't wake and for that she was grateful; sleep, more than anything else, would help him now. She reached out to brush a lock of dark hair away from his face and he stirred languorously, graceful even in repose. Her long fingers brushed the purple shadows that lingered like bruises beneath his eyes; these she hoped would fade after a decent sleep in which his mind was free of the tragedy that plagued him so obviously most of the time. For now at least he seemed at peace and for this Vaern smiled; finally she could begin to see the effects of her healing. Little by little, the Daemon Lord was coming back. Weary and satisfied, the healing Elf finally lay down too and allowed her eyes to flutter shut. The sounds of slow-moving water and rustling trees were as soothing to her as they would be to any of her kind and, warm from the body-heat rolling off the Daemon resting serenely beside her, she too drifted off. And sometime during the warm spring night Gabriel's hand caught hers, weaving their fingers together, joining two magical creatures closely enough that their dreams would be shared. The Daemon's Tale Ch. 04 I feel like a good writer ought to be able to weave more information through their story than I manage in this one, but perhaps I start at a disadvantage because Gabriel was initially conceived in a roleplay situation. This means the whole world he exists in and all its creatures, places and quirks are already formed when characters are created. Anyway, in answer to a question posed in a comment for the previous chapter, all creatures in Gabriel's world look more or less humanoid. Gabriel, for instance, is discernable from regular humans only due to having pointed claws rather than fingernails and pointed canines which could be described as fangs. Personal quirks include the silver quality of his skin and his beauty, both of which derive from his particular type of magic (bardic magic -- the ability to attract, incite lust, hypnotise, mesmerise, and so forth). Also, all creatures can immediately recognise a Daemon. Unlike the other three races they do not originate from this land but have travelled from another dimension altogether, and for this reason no Daemon looks anything like a Faerie, Shapeshifter or Mortal. However Gabriel manages to reduce the immediate fear that humans have of him using his bardic magic and this is what allowed him to live among them. Daemons cannot hide their true natures with a glamour, however the Faeries can and Shapeshifters look relatively similar to Mortals. As always, thank you for reading, voting and commenting. ~Archer~ * His dreams were full of peace and pleasure. Woven through his own dark, intense subconscious were fleeting glimpses of hers; Vaern's way of experiencing life. It was more colourful and calming than his own dramatic world and he slept deeply and without stirring, free from the nightmares that had begun to plague him recently. In those dreams Vaern existed with him in a place where he no longer felt the pain of grief or loss at all. He felt free again; virile, wild, unpredictable. His vitality was boundless and his mind as sharp as it had ever been without the distraction of whirling, uncontrollable thoughts about Katherine. It was a hazy place, this dream, but although Gabriel could tell he was it was not real he revelled in it, remembering what it was like to be himself again. Pastel colours embraced him warmly despite the fact that he didn't fit in these dreams very well; too dramatic, too wild for Vaern's imaginings. Her mind was as he might have guessed -- pretty, rich and welcoming. For Vaern, though, the glimpse into Gabriel's dreams was a frightening one. There was darkness in his mind which belied his Daemonic nature and she was out of place, too soft and vulnerable in the smouldering chaos. She could tell from the dreams that Gabriel was sharply intelligent but very unpredictable; his subconscious shifted without warning even as it gave surprising insights into his thoughts, but it was never for more than a moment. The Elf found herself lost in uncertainty quite quickly and although she would come to appreciate the glimpse into Gabriel's nature when she woke, experiencing it first hand was uncomfortable. As an Elf, a Faerie, she couldn't get used to the alien mind of a dangerous Daemon. Nonetheless in this frightening, unexpected way, the two became closer -- the glimpse into one another's minds formed a bond between them, however tenuous. When Gabriel awoke sometime near dawn he was initially distracted by the tentative fingers of dusky rose light hesitantly taking over the darkness. He was relaxed after a night free from nightmares and within just a few minutes the sky was blushing scarlet and gold. Where the moonlight had thrown the contours of Gabriel's prone form into sharp relief, picking up every line of hardened muscle and creating deep shadows which emphasised masculine strength, the dawn light softened and soothed him. The next thing he noticed, though, was Vaern's hand entwined through his own. Gabriel panicked. Adrenaline coursed through his body as he threw himself reflexively away from the sleeping Elf, hissing in surprise at the strong emotion that overwhelmed him. It took him a moment to recognise it because until Katherine's death it had been one he'd very rarely experienced. Guilt, white hot and scalding, coursed through his mind and brought the stress flooding back. It was so immediately crushing and oppressive that breathing seemed difficult so Gabriel escaped desperately into the trees, away from Vaern and the treacherous spring. The guilt followed him though, inescapably persistent, a crushing vice around his chest. How could he have let himself form an attachment -- any kind of attachment -- to Vaern? Katherine had been killed only a few moons ago and here he was opening his soul, if not heart, to another woman. It seemed he was more depraved than he'd ever thought and yet Gabriel had never tried to cover his shortcomings. It was the shock that made it so awful and sent the Daemon stumbling blindly through the trees. He'd never experienced more than the odd twinge of guilt before; a brief moment, perhaps, when he killed one who challenged his position as Lord but as it was the laws of his kind this passed quickly on those rare occasions it came at all. Never in over four hundred years though had he felt such self-reproach for his actions and it was entirely unexpected, for Gabriel was no saint. He drank and indulged and killed. Before Katherine he'd been unabashedly lascivious and with his charms had found it easy to seduce women. Yet although Katherine had never asked it of him he'd become, over the years, contentedly devoted to her alone despite retaining his other vices. The fact that he had found some happiness when his soul mate was dead and -- worse -- that happiness had come due to the attentions of a pretty Elf was enough to inspire overwhelming regret. What had he been thinking? Vaern woke as the sun draped her in warm golden light while climbing serenely into the now-periwinkle blue sky. Though it was a beautiful morning something felt immediately wrong and it didn't take long for her to remember the previous afternoon and flashes of a moon-drenched night. Gabriel melting under her talented fingers as she eased away the tension and stress of his grief. The Daemon Lord stretching out alongside her, water running off his silver skin and life back in those brilliant teal eyes which were partially obscured by damp locks of midnight black hair. And an elegant clawed hand entwining with her own so his dreams merged with hers and they shared a part of themselves with the other. It was not the memories that were the problem though. The problem was the empty space alongside her, the grass still flattened by the imprint of a sleeping body only minutes before. Gabriel was gone and Vaern had a fair idea why. The Elf quickly dressed and retrieved Gabriel's clothing too, correctly guessing that when she found him he would be at least somewhat more comfortable when dressed, and then easily followed the trail of snapped branches and damaged undergrowth to find the tortured Daemon. It seemed in his panic Gabriel had been anything but his usual athletic, graceful self. She found him pacing anxiously in a small clearing surrounded by pines. His movements were jerky and abrupt and dark fire smouldered in his eyes, so the Elf approached cautiously. She knew Gabriel well enough now to respect the fact that, although under normal circumstances he controlled his Daemonic impulses well, the tragedy that had befallen him had drained him of the strength required to maintain his self-control. If he snapped and struck out he was more than capable of killing her with little effort; her magic was focused around life and healing and was not a reliable defence against an agitated Daemon. However Gabriel noticed her arrival despite his preoccupation with guilt and grief, his gaze flicking to her briefly before becoming glazed and unseeing once more. That acknowledgement was enough for Vaern to take the risk -- she placed a tentative arm on his uninjured shoulder and brought his pacing to a reluctant halt. "Tell me what happened to you Gabriel." For a long moment she thought he was going to ignore her request. It wouldn't have surprised her at all; the fiercely independent Daemon wasn't the type to open his heart to others with ease, she was sure. But although the silence stretched into long minutes in which the two remained frozen, teetering on the edge of indecision, Gabriel finally decided to share his story. The Daemon sunk to the ground in a cross-legged position and Vaern followed suit, shifting to sit in front of him so she could catch his troubled gaze with her warm, reassuring one. And her soothing presence -- so powerful, he realised, that it was surely part of her magic -- was enough to allow him to relax and divulge. "I had a partner." The words didn't come easily. Grief and anger warred in his voice, marring his distinctive velvety tenor with emotion, but Vaern was patient. She didn't try to rush him. "Her name was Katherine Sirett. She was a human, very young when I met her, only seventeen or eighteen. But she was beautiful and tempestuous; she'd snuck out of her parents hold and into a tavern that first night and I watched as she beat several rounds of drunken men in cards. She pretended to drink the whole time but while they got more and more inebriated she remained clear-headed, relieving them of all their gambling coin for a week I'd guess. She was cheating of course but another human would never have seen it for she was very good; my Daemon eyesight caught her only in the second round. "She intrigued me. She was breaking all the rules of Mortal propriety; leaving her house after dark and without an escort, entering a working man's tavern, playing something as uncouth as cards and gambling to boot. And she was the only Mortal who had ever caught my eye; long hair so pale it was almost white, interesting hazel eyes, soft golden skin. I could tell she was an aristocrat from money or nobility, perhaps both, and yet there she was in a smoky tavern cheating at cards in the middle of the night. "I watched her until she finished and pulled her cloak back on; sweetly thanking the men she had just cheated before slipping out the door to return to her real world. I was curious enough to follow and she had known I would for she waited not far along the path and smiled when I approached her. She was even sharper than I had guessed; I had remained discreetly in the shadows that night and yet she had sensed me watching her. She should have been terrified, but she greeted me politely and with mischief in her voice. "I asked her what she had been doing in the tavern late at night, so clearly not where she was supposed to be. But rather than simply answer my question she took my hand -- still fearless! -- and we walked. Sometimes we left the path and she trusted me to guide her, at other times we made our way back to the city where she lived and she led the way. We talked the whole time. It was sunrise before I bade her farewell at the gates, not then being partial to the city where Daemons are generally unwelcome. But already I had fallen for her." The Daemon emitted a weary sigh as though the sharing of his story were physically demanding, but even as he struggled through the words some of the weight crushing his chest and making it hard to breathe was lifting. Vaern listened silently and without interruption, doing no more than resting a warm hand on his forearm in encouragement. There was no judgement or demand in her expression and after collecting himself for a moment Gabriel decided to continue. She might as well have the full story now; he could feel no worse than he already had, surely? "She came into the forest every night after that to see me. It meant sneaking out past the guards and her servants -- I learned, during our nights together, that she was indeed nobility. Her father was a Duke with reign over a small Southern province and although they weren't closely associated with the royal family they were wealthy and respected. Katherine was the youngest, with two older brothers, so she was of little use to her family except as a political pawn. She told me she was mostly ignored until she was needed to appear pretty and proper at social functions and this suited her fine because she was not really the noble type; she was far too impatient and rebellious. Her family's ignorance, though, allowed her to sneak around as she did. "We spent almost a year meeting nightly among the trees. I showed her my world and introduced her to the creatures of magic and she remained fearless and curious throughout. She wasn't naturally afraid of Daemons as most humans are and she quickly endeared herself even to my closest friends. We were content to continue this pattern indefinitely; I had no desire to leave the forest and as a human she didn't have the means to survive outside the city so our arrangement provided a nice compromise. We were content. However her father had other plans. "It seems all those social outings she'd been involved in had actually been for a purpose. Katherine's father had been courting the King since she was a child and finally he had agreed to allow his second son to marry her. Though this would not make her Queen it would provide a link between the Duke's family and the royal family and it was an invaluable contract; Katherine had blossomed into a beautiful woman as I well knew and the young Prince was enamoured." Gabriel's eyes were distant as he recounted his story, entirely lost in memories which had come to have such a defining impact on his life and his character. Katherine had been his first and only love -- he'd waited centuries to meet her -- and she had changed him forever. The memories remained as fresh in his mind as the day's years ago that they had occurred. "You can probably guess from my description of her personality that Katherine objected to the union. She had met the Prince only in passing and, at any rate, she had been in love with me for some time. He was a good enough man by any account; he could ride, handle a sword, and was obviously wealthy. But I suppose Katherine had always been attracted to the unusual, to the wilderness, to danger, for she had never been afraid of me and she certainly should have been. She was not unaware of my temper or my abilities and yet she told me she could not even picture the man she was meant to marry, just as I no longer saw the faces of other women. She was furious the night she told me. It did not take her long to decide to leave. "I knew it would upset her family and cause problems for them with the royal family. I also knew that if anyone Katherine knew found out she'd left with the Daemon Lord it would probably incite a war between the Mortals and Daemons, or at the least damage already shaky relations. But I couldn't bring myself to care -- the very thought of her marrying the human Prince was enough to make me see red. I readily agreed to leave with her so we travelled to Terrace. "Terrace is a smaller Mortal city, surrounded by walls just as the main city is but separated from it by several miles of fairly dangerous road. I charmed the guards to let me in with Katherine and used magic to suppress the fear response of all the Mortals we came into contact with. Katherine brought enough stolen money from her father to purchase a small rooftop apartment and it was here we settled for over ten years, living under fake names so Katherine wouldn't be found. It was not hard to hide, though. Her father did not have the time, resources or inclination to hunt for her for too long. And in Terrace we flourished; I made frequent trips into the forest to maintain my duties as Daemon Lord but the time apart only brought us closer. It was a peaceful decade and I have never been happier, in all the other many decades I have lived. "I knew my partnership with Katherine was unpopular. It is not unheard of for Daemons to take Mortal partners but many of my kind considered it inappropriate for the Daemon Lord to do so when our two races are so different. In general the Mortals, as you know, have no respect for the forest or the life of the trees, and many felt I was wasted with her. I didn't care. I knew Katherine and I were soul mates, happy in our unorthodox bubble, uncaring of the opinions of others. I should have taken the dissent more seriously though. If I had, I might have been prepared for what was coming. "It was a Vampire that did it. She was one of my subjects, jealous of Katherine's involvement in my life and probably contemptuous of Mortals as a whole, and she snuck into the apartment one night. I wasn't expecting so foolish an attack. Didn't she think I would be so furious I wouldn't pause to ask questions? I was too slow to stop her breaking Katherine's neck though. It took less than a second after she entered the room. I killed the Vampire immediately of course but it was too late. There was nothing I could do." Vaern didn't speak right away, noting the Daemon Lord had slumped against the tree. He seemed exhausted but the violent energy associated with his guilt had drained too and the Elf could tell he'd taken another small step in the long healing process. Divulging his story to her must have been very difficult -- Gabriel was a notoriously private person and very independent -- but it had been important to allow him to move on. She smiled softly; she was glad she'd been able to help him. He was proving a dangerous and difficult patient with wounds that reached far deeper than muscle and bone but healing was Vaern's unquestioned calling and her words and actions for Gabriel were intuitive to allow him to begin recovering. "Thank you, Gabriel. You've put your trust in me and I appreciate it, but more importantly it shows that you are still able to trust at all. Losing that can destroy a man, you know; if not physically then mentally. I would not want for you to lose yourself." The Elf squeezed his arm supportively. "It wasn't your fault, Daemon Lord. Sometimes bad things happen to good people." Gabriel laughed shortly and humourlessly. "I'm not a good person. In fact I'm often very badly behaved." "I've no doubt," the Elf smiled. "But the essence of who you are is good. Katherine's death was a tragedy but you didn't cause it." "If she hadn't become a part of my world she never would have been killed." "She never would have been happy, either." The Daemon had closed his eyes to regain his composure but they flickered open again to observe Vaern when she placed a gentle hand on his cheek. Her touch was delicate and warm and he leaned into it instinctively, too drained to war with the guilt anymore. He would probably carry some of that with him for a long time, perhaps for the rest of his life, but Vaern had given him the chance to learn how to deal with it. And her words were, as usual, exactly what he needed to hear -- whether he completely believed them or not. For now at least they were enough. He slept alongside Vaern again that night though this time and although this time they remained clothed and did not touch, Gabriel felt closer to her than ever. Her body heat warmed him and her breath on his face was sweet and rhythmic. He watched her for a long time before he drifted off himself and marvelled at the Elf's gentleness and power. She was doubtless one of the Faerie's most talented healers and he was grateful that she seemed to care enough to spend so much energy on him. For without her, he surely would have given up by now. So many times it was only her whispered words, captivating gaze or soothing touch that stopped him spiralling completely into madness and no doubt death. From that night onwards Vaern and Gabriel were more or less inseparable. Both had things they needed to tend to -- the Elf her other patients, much neglected since Gabriel's arrival, and the Daemon passed some time with the Council. The everyday demands of politics and leadership took his mind off his loss and allowed him to slowly slip back into a pattern of normal functioning, at least by day. But by night he and Vaern travelled extensively through the Faerie stronghold, hand in hand. She showed him places that were sacred to her kind, places so heavily infused with Faerie magic that he might have lost his mind if he'd strayed there alone or for too long. Beauty defined every destination and journey they made but it was Vaern that captivated him. He continued to fight it whenever the guilt drive him to do so however his dangerous moods in which he fled from Vaern and caused untold destruction whenever he panicked were becoming fewer and far between. The Daemon's Tale Ch. 04 She led him to dance in Fairy glades with laughing, winged children that took his hand and showed him small wonders of their world -- a blooming wildflower, a bird sitting on her eggs, a toadstool emerging from the ground so quickly that one could sit and watch it unfold. She swam with him in deep, still pools that were icy cold as they filled from streams running off the mountain and showed him how to dive and find that precious gems were scattered along their rocky bottoms, so deep that only those who could breathe underwater could reach them. She climbed towering oaks and beeches that stood regally with their heads among the clouds, leading him upwards until the whole of the Faerie stronghold could be seen below them -- miles upon miles of forest and glades and rivers wreathed in magic so old and fundamental that it was almost visible. And slowly the little bubble of peace that she had first instilled in Gabriel in those nights at the spring grew, pushing away the guilt and dimming the agony of grief. He would miss Katherine forever but Vaern had, almost as much as was possible, healed him. And thanks to her Gabriel began to resume a slightly more normal life. The Elf still visited him daily despite the fact that his shoulder no longer needed dressing; the only medical aspect of her visit consisted of rubbing herb-based oil into the closed wounds to lessen the scarring. Far more importantly, though, she visited in order to check and if necessary rebalance his mental state. Every now and then the Daemon would begin to spiral back into darkness and anger but a few hours in Vaern's company brought him back and soothed him. The episodes occurred less and less frequently over the months he remained in the Faerie stronghold as Vaern helped him to cope with Katherine's death in a way that he could manage; bit by bit, Gabriel Jhaedaes Os Tar clawed his way back to sanity. *** The Daemon Lord stood still and silent, framed by the natural wooden border of one of his glassless windows, as the sun set on an evening nearly a year after he had arrived in this place. He'd been dishevelled and broken back then; injured, sallow, and wild. He'd been desperate for refuge and healing which he'd found, fortunately; he'd no doubt that Vaern had saved his life, something which had been hanging on desperate tenterhooks when he'd first arrived. Now brilliant orange light spilled over a frame which had filled out once more with lean muscle and reflected off brilliant moonstone skin that was no longer pallid and bruised. There was no tension in his shoulders or neck as he stared impassively over the realm of the Faeries, and although his did not smile he looked as though he was at peace. He couldn't stay here forever though. Gabriel could feel the first stirrings of restlessness; a common trait among Daemons who typically lived fairly nomadic lifestyles. He'd desperately needed what this place and a certain special Elf had offered but he was no longer dependent on it. It had been months since he'd ventured outside of the Faerie stronghold and it wasn't a place just anyone could visit, so it was time he returned to the forest and resume his position as Daemon Lord in a properly practicing capacity. Being unavailable for challenges to his leadership and for disciplining law-breakers was unfair to his kind. He couldn't remain here much longer. The prospect of leaving was something he felt he could cope with now though. Vaern's quiet strength was so different to his own powerful confidence but he'd learnt from that and would carry it with him when he left. A few more days were all he needed to set things in order with Tiran and thank the Elf before making his farewells. A few more days, and he would face the world again. The Daemon's Tale Ch. 05 Thank you so much for your patience and the continued perusal of the first four chapters by new readers while I've been taking a break for Christmas and New Years. I have certainly not lost interest in the Daemon's Tale and my inspiration is still as strong as ever -- I've actually taken to carrying a notebook to jot down ideas when I can't actually sit down to write. Chapter five has been a reasonably long time coming but I hope you enjoy it. This isn't the end of Gabriel's story but it is a pivotal point for him. I can only hope I've done it justice. As always comments and votes are so welcome and I get a lot of motivation from the encouragement, feedback and suggestions people leave. Happy reading everyone! ~Archer~ * Tiran was philosophical and accepting when Gabriel told him of his plans to leave within the next few days. It had been useful having the Daemon Lord around for so long, and the Council had benefited greatly from the information and teachings he'd given them about the Daemons. Normally his visits were fleeting and filled with political tasks and the Daemons, though they were allies, remained a mystery to the Faeries. Gabriel's year-long visit had finally given him time to teach the Faeries a little more of Daemon nature, character, beliefs and behaviour. The Fairy Council Leader had also enjoyed seeing Gabriel regain the charisma, confidence and charm that they were all so used to. There was no place in this world so suited to healing someone as the Faerie stronghold, where magic flowed freely in both the lands and inhabitants, and Gabriel was proof of this. The Faeries were fond of the intense, mesmerizing Daemon and were happy to have been able to save him. The loss of such a relatable and comparatively controlled representative of the Daemon race in the position of Lord would have been a great one, and in any case most individual Faerie's were personally acquainted with Gabriel and fond of him. It was almost impossible not to be -- despite his obvious strength and potential for violence, they found him fascinating. So yes, it was a shame the Daemon Lord had to leave. But it did herald his return to health and wellbeing -- changed forever of course by the loss of a soul mate and the love of a healing Elf, but still himself at heart. "Ah, my friend, I knew this day was coming. You almost look like your old self again." "Almost?" "A little rougher around the edges perhaps, but great loss will do that to a person. The important thing is that you survived with your heart and soul more or less intact. I will have to thank Vaern myself." A mischievous twinkle appeared abruptly in Tiran's eye, proving Faerie nature in that at close to a thousand years old the Council Leader still had enough of a sense of humour to tease others. Gabriel smiled; the relationship he'd formed with Vaern over the course of the year had been obvious and he'd known it -- his mind was in no state to worry about secrecy or humility. Not that it had ever become physical -- theirs was a deep spiritual and emotional connection. Strangely, the Daemon had to fight down a pang of regret as the thought came to him. "You've been amazingly patient and hospitable as always Tiran. I'm truly indebted to you and I won't forget it." "A continued friendship and peace between our races is all I ask, Gabriel. And your continued good health and wellbeing." "Of course. I can't promise that the politics won't change but my friendship with you and your kind certainly won't. Thank you. Really." Tiran nodded at him, deep wisdom reflected in a passive expression and kind but surprisingly sharp eyes. That was his second most important conversation completed and Gabriel was almost ready to leave -- however, before he did there was something far more crucial to attend to. The Daemon had not brought any belongings with him and indeed, outside of his simple attire of black cotton pants and the silver jewellery he wore draped around his neck, wrists, ankles and fingers, he owned none. There was no packing to be done; instead, once dressed, Gabriel went looking for a final farewell. Vaern proved harder to find than expected though. The Healer's quarters were deserted, its occupants away or busy with patients, and the rooms kept for those will illnesses or injuries yielded no clues either. Those Gabriel paused in the tree-lined streets to ask had not seen the Elf that day either and she was not in any of her usual haunts -- the library, by the river, or teaching children the qualities of herbs under the shade of a three hundred year old oak. For some time the Daemon was baffled -- he'd told her of his intentions to leave soon on one of their many days together exploring the caves and forests of the Faerie lands -- however the answer to the riddle came to him suddenly as he glanced up at the mountain range that watched over the valley. It was so simple and obvious he almost laughed; he knew exactly where she would be. The journey there this time was much faster. Months and months ago when he'd first done it he'd been hampered by injury and weighed down by crushing grief. Now his shoulder was almost as good as new; scarred, but fully functional, and although he still thought of Katherine daily and continued to mourn her death the weight of that loss no longer threatened to devastate him. He leapt lightly over ragged cliffs and swam easily through fast-flowing rivers, climbed ancient trees with animalistic grace and slipped almost unseen among the shadows. He was as wild and talented as he'd ever been, no longer stumbling gracelessly through the world but a predator, silent and dangerous, returned to his former strength. And she was waiting for him, just as he'd known she would be. Silhouetted in the fading summer light she made a beautiful picture. Silky caramel-coloured hair lifted and danced lightly in the breeze, catching behind the pointed ears which marked her as a Faerie. Her profile was elegant and refined; she had the high cheekbones that were common to all Elves but her eyes were something special. A deep kindness and wisdom marked her profession and age respectively; she was younger than Gabriel by around half a century but still close to four hundred years old. He trailed delicately clawed fingers along the back of her slender neck and twined her fingers through his own -- over time they'd grown close enough that these small gestures and touches were common and reassuring when they were together. She smiled but Gabriel could see sadness in her expression, in the way that the smile didn't fully reach her eyes as it normally did. "I'm going to miss you, you know." Her voice was quiet but in this private place, next to the spring she'd first brought him to in order to save him, the words were clear and musical to his ears. She didn't sound accusing, simply pensive, but Gabriel pulled her closer anyway. "I'll miss you too." They both knew that there was nothing that could change their parting. Gabriel was the Daemon Lord and he had responsibilities to his own race and, more than this, he was a restless wanderer at heart. He couldn't stay closeted in her world forever and already, after just a year, the first stirrings of wild energy were making it hard for him to sleep restfully. And Vaern, she was a Healer, a restorer of life, and was deeply attached to the Faerie realm. Her talents were needed for her own people and though magic was rife throughout their world she would be lost without the unique Faerie magic that was so powerful here. And more than this -- they loved each other, certainly, but both Gabriel and Vaern knew they weren't soul mates. Their attachment was strong yet they did not fully understand each other and would probably never be able to. Gabriel's violent, intense, wild Daemon nature was simply too alien to Vaern's gentle compassion and intuitive understanding of the emotions and experiences of others. A glimpse into each other's dreams had taught them this beyond a shadow of a doubt -- but it wouldn't make leaving any easier. Gabriel dropped a gentle kiss on the back of Vaern's neck in the place where a slight hollow existed that smelt like ripe peaches. She smiled, already knowing his fascination with that spot, and held still as he explored. The soft attentions of his lips were interspersed with careful nips from pointed teeth; she'd never been with a Daemon before, and the little reminder of his dangerousness sent a thrill along her spine. Gabriel stopped thinking about his imminent departure and the life that awaited him beyond the Faerie gates; how could he think of anything else but the velvet softness of Vaern's skin and her heady, summer-fruit scent? As for the Elf, she'd been lost the moment the Daemon Lord had touched her -- as always his presence hypnotised her and his bardic magic drugged her senses. His skin seemed ethereally silver despite the warm golden light they stood in and she could barely meet his eyes for fear of forgetting herself forever. She did though, entranced by the shocking teal of his irises and the depth of his character contained within them. Gabriel was so difficult to read -- a Daemon trait, as they were good at hiding their emotions -- but when he lowered his defences during their exploration of each other she could read him so clearly in those expressive eyes. It was more than a little frightening and yet she didn't even think of stopping this natural progression of their months together. The force of Gabriel's desire was simply too strong to resist. He spun her around to face him and Vaern immediately wrapped her arms around his neck, long fingers entwining themselves in his shaggy, ink-black hair. His breath smelt like rich, dark honey; irresistibly sweet, she couldn't help but reach up and press her lips tentatively against his. Gabriel allowed her to set the pace at first, wanting her to be comfortable and feel at least a little in control. He knew the effect of his abilities and though his control over them was limited, especially now, he was wary of scaring her with his natural intensity. She didn't seem scared, though. Hesitant at first, Vaern took only moments to coax his mouth open with her tongue and deepen the kiss to something more exhilarating. His fingers found the tie of the cloak she was wearing and loosened it; she wore nothing beneath, having known perfectly well what would happen before Gabriel left, but she hardly seemed to notice as they both drunk in the other during that single, unbroken kiss. Frantic heat and desperate desire drove them closer to each other; Gabriel pressed the length of her body against his own though somehow Vaern managed to release the tie of the pants he was wearing. Gabriel was far too distracted to care about how exposed they both were. It seemed natural to sink to the ground at that point and only then did they finally pause for breath. Soft summer grass made a fragrant bed beneath them, and among the wildflowers Gabriel began to discover Vaern's body. His hand traced the attractive curve of her waist and cupped the swell of her hip before he placed delicate, exploratory kisses along her ribs. Each hollow seemed to intrigue him, almost as much as the freckles and scars he found which he lingered over as though savouring. These were the things that made her unique, special, memorable. He traced the outline of a crescent shaped birth mark lazily and the heat of his gaze brought a rose blush to her cheeks. "You're beautiful," he murmured seriously, meeting her eyes and holding her gaze captive. "So are you." Her own fingers traced the outline of his abdominal muscles which tensed reflexively beneath a touch so gentle she could only be a healer. She lingered over parts of him too; the ragged, bone-white scars on his shoulder which would always remind him of her now, rather than the Vampire he'd received them from, and the fascinating hollow created by his hipbone. She placed kisses there which made him catch his breath sharply and made her in turn smile, noticing the evidence of the arousal she was creating. And that, too, was beautiful; curiously she wrapped a hand around his length and watched his jaw tighten, reaching up to soothe the hard tendons that ran along his throat. That was a vulnerable spot for someone to touch, especially to a Daemon due to lives filled with fighting, and the fact that he didn't even flinch spoke volumes of his trust for her. There were no freckles or birthmarks for Vaern to find on Gabriel; Daemon's didn't have such things, which only added to their strangeness compared to the native races of this world, but he was so inarguably unique that she didn't feel cheated out of these little markers of individuality. Had there ever been a man like Gabriel? She doubted it; the force of his beauty and personality was utterly remarkable. So she savoured their final time together and didn't try to rush despite a growing impatience borne from lust -- she forced herself to wait, to explore, and to remember. When he rolled over suddenly and pinned her beneath him in a sudden, startling, crushing kiss the Elf gasped before washing away on another rush of desire. He'd been curious and gentle before but this was Gabriel's true nature; his mouth was demanding against hers and she had no wish or means to resist. He could feel her melt beneath him and he caught her wrists in one hand, easily pinning them above her head and trapping her. Vaern didn't try to get away but there was a wanton desire in her eyes when he trapped her that almost drove him wild with need. Gentle and compassionate she may be but there was a sensuality to the Elf he hadn't expected. Nevertheless he held himself still, dragging his gaze openly over her prone form but neglecting to touch her until she writhed beneath him in frustration. "I'm patient Gabriel, but not that patient. You're a tease, you know that?" The Daemon laughed and nodded unabashedly. "Oh, I know. What are you going to do about it?" The words escaped his mouth as a challenge and Vaern narrowed her eyes, suddenly looking far less innocent that he would have believed she could. Trapped as she was by his firm grip on her wrists and the weight of his body her options were limited, but she was able to lick her lips seductively, meeting his gaze fearlessly the entire time. People did that so rarely, rightly afraid of the power held in his teal irises, but the Elf didn't care if he wanted to enchant him with his devastating magic. She was already giving everything to him unreservedly. Slowly she tilted her head back until her hair fell away from her face in distracting caramel waves and her throat was bared inches from the watching Daemon holding her captive. He was instantly captivated; his gaze ran along the vulnerable column of her throat and she soft hollows created by her collarbone where he knew she loved to be kissed. And then unexpectedly, in the sensitive spot where her throat met her jaw, he caught the subtle flicker of her pulse thrumming beneath her skin, erratic from desire. As Vaern had known, he couldn't resist lowering his mouth to that spot, to feel her pulse flicker at the touch of his lips, to taste the delicate skin that provided her only protection. The Elf grinned wickedly knowing she had won. "Vixen." "Like you mind." She was right of course. Gabriel was already too distracted to chastise her further for her manipulation, his lips scorching hot trails along her throat and chest. She gasped when his teeth toyed first with one nipple then the other, careful not to draw blood but nonetheless hardly gentle. Desire rushed through her in overwhelming waves and she pulled him closer, relishing the hardness of his body. Her hands buried themselves in his hair once more and she whispered his name as a question, a plea. Gabriel groaned; he could only tease her for so long. Not that teasing was really the point. Gabriel wanted to take his time, explore every inch of Vaern, so that he could commit her to memory. And though she pleaded impatience Vaern's goal was no different; her hands trailed over the chest and abdomen of the Daemon driving her to distraction, memorising every detail. It was very difficult to concentrate though while Gabriel's bardic magic intensified his natural scent of summer roses and sun-darkened honey so that it was heady and hypnotising. That was the point of course, even when the magic rolled off him in subconscious waves. Though Vaern hardly needed hypnotising; she was already under his spell. The Elf might lack the magical abilities that made Gabriel so irresistible, but she was hardly less enchanting. Her vulnerability and trust in him made her captivating and her beauty, natural and uncontrived, made her unforgettable. With slow, delicious torture Gabriel trailed his lips over every inch of her body while trying not to let her responses make him lose control. It took all his strength not to forget to be gentle with her; each time her breath caught in her throat or a low moan escaped her lips because of his teasing arousal swept over him and threatened to chase away rational thought. Eventually, with a low chuckle, Vaern rolled over so she lay across Gabriel and pinned him down. He humoured her willingly so she could explore him in return and his eyes slid shut when her soft lips trailed the length of his abdomen to again find the sensitive hollow by his hip. Muscles rippled involuntarily under her tentative kisses but he held himself still and silent, save the odd sharp exhale when she found a particularly sensitive spot. The effort of staying motionless for her caused the Daemon to break out into a light sweat, adding a sheen to his silver skin. He tasted like apple and masculinity. That combined with the powerful scent of roses and dark honey overwhelmed Vaern's senses and she was drowning in the experience of enjoying the Daemon Lord. Thankfully she had no need for rational thought; Gabriel had to keep his wits, at least a little, so as not to hurt her but Vaern could give herself over to her senses and forget about reality for a while. And that was exactly what she did, teasing and torturing Gabriel until they were both desperate for each other. Their gentle arousal melted into harsh need until at last the Daemon rolled over again and pinned Vaern in the sweet-smelling grass with the weight of his body, once again meeting her eyes. Watching the Elf with glazed intensity Gabriel entered her, joining them at last. Again her breath caught in her throat in the way that delighted Gabriel and she let out a short gasp which was smothered by his own guttural groan. He held still for a moment, the strain of doing so showing in the corded tendons at his throat, until her hands reached up to soothe the tension there with reassuring strokes. There was only warmth and lust in her eyes as they began to move together in the orange light of the late afternoon; by now she was no longer afraid of the wildness she read in his bright teal eyes and she tangled her hands in Gabriel's inky hair, even as he ran his fingers through her long caramel tresses before leaning down to run scorching kisses along her neck. She shuddered in ecstasy, building quickly towards release. Gabriel watched, fascinated, as Vaern's eyes became glazed and lost focus. Sweat beaded temptingly along her collarbone and dampened his back where her hands pulled him closer, needing him deeper and more urgently with every passing moment. He kissed it away and memorised her taste then continued to kiss her throat, unable to help using his teeth gently every now and then. He remained captivated by the spot where her pulse thrummed rapidly under her skin and as her heartbeat rose his thrusts became more demanding. She melted beneath him, malleable to the hardness of his body, swept away in a Daemon's lust. The Daemon's Tale Ch. 05 It was surprising, therefore, when Gabriel slowed and rolled her on top of him one last time to let her set the pace. In willingly giving up his control Gabriel gave Vaern the power to take what she wanted from him and she brought herself slowly to climax, arching her head back and shuddering as their hands entwined, each gripping the other to keep themselves grounded. And being able to let someone else lead him allowed Gabriel his own release; he pulled Vaern close as they both came reluctantly back to reality from their mutual high. As the minutes crawled past unchecked and uncounted the Elf and the Daemon eventually slowed their breathing and the heat in their bodies faded. Their hands remained entwined for a long time, until the sun dipped below the horizon and moonlit night took over. Only when stars littered the sky and the colour of the wildflowers was bleached away by the silver light did Gabriel finally stand up, pulling Vaern with him for a last lingering embrace. "I won't forget you Vaern. You saved my life." "And I won't forget you. How could I? I don't think that anyone who meets you could." "I hope you'll remember me for different reasons than most, though." Vaern smiled, the memory of their meeting burning fresh in her mind. "Oh, I'll never forget that Gabriel. But I'll also remember the other parts; how you loved someone so much that their death nearly killed you. How you started to learn to deal with your emotions in ways other than lashing out or running. How you let yourself trust someone, despite the terrible thing that happened to you." "That was all down to you, Vaern," Gabriel replied, breathing in the scent of her hair deeply as he spoke. She remained willingly in his arms and he was grateful for that; he needed these last moments of intimacy to cement his memories of her. "I helped, yes, but you did the hard part yourself. I'm so glad you could be saved. Promise me you'll remember this lesson? You looked into hell and chose to come back. No matter what happens to you, you have the strength to survive it...even if you have to come back to me to be reminded." "I won't forget," he promised again, kissing her forehead for the last time. Vaern closed her eyes when he did and savoured that last kiss, caring rather than heated, proof of his words. And when she opened them Gabriel was gone. "Good luck, Daemon Lord."