35: Keep Running
1170 Words
The daylight hours saw me awkward and uncomfortable around my father because of the lingering bitter aftertaste of the argument the day before. Worse still, it saw me in a position of once again questioning my sanity as I realized Arran had again had perfect opportunity to press his advantage, and yet did not. I kept feeling twinges of guilt throughout the day whenever I thought some evil thing of him, only to once more wonder if I was as completely addled as he whenever I did. Eventually, I got tired of my own mind sending me on an endless spiral and decided I was going to go say something to the Fae King. Arran. Try to sort out where exactly he fell on that line of gentleman or fiend. And maybe see if he knew more about the ridiculous bond plaguing me.
I was trying very hard to deny the fact that I just had this urge, this need to see him. Like I was drawn to him. I cursed myself even as I tried to force my speed back to a more reasonable human walking pace. The gates were open for trade, so I couldn’t even use the closed gates as an excuse to slow down. With determination, I strode around the castle walls towards the Healer’s Hut. Surely Arran would still be there. I needed to see if this crazy feeling of connection was still going to be there too.
I made it all the way to the Healer’s, feeling as though Fate itself was dogging my steps, and banged on a surprisingly closed door. When there was no answer, I pushed the heavy door open yelling for the Healer. The fire was out and everything was quiet. I’d never seen this building completely empty before.
“They’re gone.” The Fae King stated over my shoulder from behind me. “Seems there’s an infant Princess in need of a post-birth visit, and some others that regularly see the Healer within the walls on certain days.” I jumped and spun around on him, swinging out with a fist because he had scared me. He caught it easily and tutted. “How very rude.” He pouted, but I was staring at his arm. His formerly very injured arm, which was now holding my fist at bay. I caught his eye and something passed between us. A little arc of electricity, a shared look, my wonder and awe mingling with his gratitude. I jerked away from him, breaking the contact.
“Don’t scare me like that and I won’t try to attack you.” I retorted, crossing my arms over my chest. “You could have told me earlier he was gone, instead of letting me waste my time and look a fool carrying on the way I did. After all, you were following me.” The Fae King ducked around in front of me to catch my gaze again.
“Now how would you know that?” He mused, examining my face. I snarled and turned to leave the building, but the Fae King was quick to block my path and my eyes fell on his arm again.
“How is your arm?” I asked, jerking my chin in his direction. He looked down, flexing it with a smile.
“Quite well thank you.” He answered, but I was already using his distraction for my chance at escape. I slipped by him while he watched his own arm flex, only to hear the quick thrum of his wings as he dropped down in front of me. It seemed even his wings were healed.
“Gods, is this going to become a habit with you?” I lashed out.
“That depends, are you going to make a habit of running away?” Arran retorted.
“I’m not running away!” I shouted, fists balled, barely restraining myself. His words stung, I felt the truth of them and didn’t appreciate how deeply they penetrated.
“Aren’t you?” He asked calmly. I blanched, looking away.
“What do you want?” I sighed.
“Shouldn’t I be asking that? You were the one who came here after all..” Arran said mildly. I felt my face heating as anger began to take over whatever sensibilities I had left. The Fae King reached out and touched my hand gently. Instantly, there was a sparkle of a connection in my mind. I knew then what he felt. He wasn’t trying to truly upset me. He was grateful and there was this part of him, the part that was attracted to me, that loved my boldness. He loved the banter between us, the witty repartee, how quick I was with a response and how I never let his status or who he was get to me.
I pulled back. I wasn’t ready to face emotional investment from him. Emotional investment that may be false due to some bond created because I healed him. It was too much. Curling my fingers in, I pulled my hand to my chest. Arran looked devastated.
“Why do you withdraw from me?” He murmured, taking a step closer. His hand hovered by my cheek. “You care for me, I’ve felt it. You wouldn’t have healed me otherwise..” The anguish in his voice was like needles in my soul. Each small puncture drawing tiny beads of blood. “Our connection grows, did you not notice your own wounds healed when you healed mine? And yet, you have no trust in your heart for me.” He searched my eyes, and his hand slowly fell. I was stunned. I hadn’t paid attention to my own body, but now that he mentioned it, I realized I felt no pain. I glanced down and felt the urge to strip to check on the injuries. When was the last time I noticed them? What the Hells was going on with me? My wide-eyed gaze met his again.
“I.. I have to go.” Somewhere, somehow, he’d stolen my confidence. My heart was beating too fast, my breathing erratic. Arran stiffened, then bowed formally.
“Of course, Lady Malina.” His words were just as formal, clipped and brief, and for some reason the use of my real name by him hurt me the most.
“I..I..” Without any idea of what else to say, I turned and ran. I ran from him, from the stiff attitude he’d shown me, from the proof of the strange connection we’d shared. I ran from the unsettled feeling in my heart that I couldn’t understand. Why had this encounter upset me so much? Could someone you thought you hated really injure your heart so much? And if not, did that mean I did indeed have feelings for the Fae King, Arran? Feelings that I didn’t want to admit?
Without realizing it, I was running away again, but maybe, who I was really running from, was myself.
- Writer
