Snowbloom

Arriving in Faerie

Wyrranestri had braced his arms for an impact in the split second of realization he was in danger, so when the ground dropped beneath him he had stumbled in a very inelegant manner and found himself staring up at a purple sky.

A cloudy lavender twilight was on display above him, serene and magical. The air was misty and cool, the soothing sound of breeze through leaves filled the air. It wasn't the sky he expected to see. It seemed that valdula had found the fae gate he had been looking for first and used it against him. the indignity, the outrage! he hoped that this momentary victory was enough for the man because he planned to repay this insult and injury 10 times over. his hand reached for the hilt of his sword, there it lay beside him still. This was all he would need to tear the man to shreds the second he saw him.

faerie. he hated this place, he hated it more now that he was back. he needed to be back the the university right now. he stood in a rush and felt the blood drain from his head in a dizzying manner, then with nothing left to do he screamed into the unfeeling sky. Rage drained from him all at once and was left a simmering film on his thoughts. the best revenge would be getting back before whatever roamed these woods did to him what it did to other "gifts". well, to him and martin.

Ah yes, martin was here too. He lay prone on the ground curled up and groaning. wyrranestri grimaced, it was his fault martin ended up here. valdula could have been a fair man and left the innocent TA out of their feud, but it would have been fairer to expect a dragon to happily welcome a visitor into their home. martin didn't deserve this even after trying to kill him, he had repaid that mistake a few times over. he had intended to escort him home like an unruly child, but now they were both stuck here. Wyrranestri kneeled in the grass to help him.

"martin can you stand?"

"don't touch me!" martin thrashed suddenly, in his haste and fury he leaned on his injured hand and yelped in pain. Wyrranestri pulled back his hand.

"don't fucking touch me, i can stand on my own." martin didn't make a move to get up however. he shot a fiery glare up at the professor. "youre an absolute piece of work professor farydark." martin hissed "if i had my sword i'd run you through. i'd tear you in half! what in all of magic just happened to us? everything hurts, i-" shouting apparently hurt as martin choked on his anger and clutched his side. his eyes squeezed shut. he shuddered and took a deep breath. Wyrranestri felt his stomach turn. seeing martin in so much pain stung his heart. it was all his doing too. guilt coiled in him. he stilled himself and tried again.

"youre bleeding quite a bit and i don't wish you anymore harm, martin. why don't you let me help you? i can close the cuts at the very least." martin sat very still. Wyrranestri hoped he wouldn't be so stubborn to refuse but with the blood between them he couldn't be sure his bid would be received any better the second time around. martin looked disgusted to consider the offer at all but he knew his position was quite dire. he nodded silently and let the professor help him sit up.

healing magic was a simple trick for Wyrranestri, one of his many specialties. he was efficient enough that the focus he might usually have on hand wasn't needed. each strike he had made was a precise one too, and he knew where to look for the worst ones. ribs, under arms, wrists. with a little warming up of his hands he prepared to face the pain he had created.

martin unbuttoned his vest and shirt but refused to surrender them. wyrranestri tried to be through and polite but there wasn't much space for privacy when severe blood loss was a possibility. intimacy was unavoidable.

over the year and a half of knowing martin Wyrranestri had kept his mind clean of any sort of fanciful imaginations about him, he liked to think restraint was also one of his specialties. (he practiced it regularly since martin started working for him) so he wasn't sure what to expect under the uniform, he convinced himself that despite being in a situation that would certainly satisfy his curiosity he would never really know. the stays martin wore were a surprise only in the florals embroidered in the panels. otherwise Wyrranestri dutifully kept his eyes on his work and the smooth bare skin he was healing. each cut needed just a bit of focus and the touch of his thumb to close, running from end to end. the body could do the rest of the work itself later to put the tissues right.

martin's breath hitched at each wound closure. sharp intake and slow measured release. Wyrranestri didn't want to speak. he felt like his hands were doing what he wanted to be saying. they weren't fighting too. that was a start. there had to be a way to remedy the rest of the wounds, the trust wounds, the emotional wounds, something that his words were not well suited for. his mouth, however, opened anyways.

"i do believe your blade work has improved" he found himself saying against his better judgement "it's been a while since our last duel. you're even better under pressure and pain, not many men can say the same." martin choked in surprised disbelief. a confused scowl creeped up his face.

"don't lie to me, are you- are you trying to be nice?" he laughed painfully. Wyrranestri looked up at him not pausing from his work. his thumb slid over another cut on martins wrist, he watched his expression twist in pain then soften, he listened to him exhale slowly.

Wyrranestri opened his mouth. no explanation that made sense was coming out of him now so he wisely bit his tongue, looked away and continued his work. mercifully he didn't say anything more for the rest of the hour.

Getting Lost

They picked their way along the path. With only one road to follow and no discernable landmarks their walking pace felt abysmally slow. Bright golden noon has lasted an indiscernible amount of hours, but who was to really say how much time was passing. Sunlight danced through green gaps in the oak branches.

Wyrranestri had all but given up searching the bare shadows for slinking danger, if they were being pursued their pursuer was doing a lousy job. He craned his neck up to look into the canopy again. While the real danger remained hidden, there were still other signs of life. This area was crawling with pixies. He glared up at the poorly hidden little insect faeries. They were just pests for now, if they didn't come down to be a bother he wouldn't have to deal with them. Never the less he kept his wits about him.

"Professor look at this" Martin sounded suddenly very elated, he held up a finger. A pixie had perched upon him inspecting his hand and fluttering its translucent wings. Its insect like body was the size of a finger itself, in its large round eyes Wyrranestri sensed something malicious "Isn't this the cutest little thing you've ever seen? like a little moth." Martin's smile lit up his face. One of these things could be called the cutest he'd ever seen but it certainly wasn't the obnoxious pest sizing up it's next victim.

"You shouldn't play with it martin, it's trouble at the very least" He waved his hand to shoo the thing. Martin yanked his hand away covering it protectively.

"Don't be mean, look, he's such a pretty color. I think I'll name him Minty."

"Martin, do not name the pixie."

"He's very cute" martin smiled pleadingly "And he looks like a moth, did you even know I liked moths?"

"Martin, pixies are pests. Not to mention dangerous" Wyrranestri offered his hand out "You shouldn't keep it around."

"Its a little bug, professor there's no need to be so rude" Martin huffed in annoyance. Wyrranestri glared at the pixie. It was ignoring him now, it was smart enough to know not to betray it's intentions now. It climbed Martin's shoulder and nuzzled its face on his cheek. The young man grinned like a smitten child, he turned to chase the pixie, buzzing down the path. Wyrranestri caught his wrist before he could get too far.

"Stop. that." Wyrranestri ordered.

"Why should I? You won't say anything other than its dangerous" Martin stood defiantly a smirk crossed his lips "You're not jealous are you?"

Wyrranestri's face colored in indignation. I'm worried about you, is what his heart said so "You need to follow my lead" is what he said out loud. It was the wrong thing to say.

Martin yanked his wrist away "Professor, You aren't my boss any more. I'm not a loose child."

"Fine." Wyrranestri hardened himself "Nothing I have to say matters, go." Martin gave him a long look of annoyance before dashing down the path to catchup with the irritating insect flitting ahead. Wyrranestri could have swore the thing was looking back, checking on him.

For the next few minutes Wyrranestri stared ahead, watching Martin play with the flying pests. Several more had come down from the trees to rest on martin's shoulders and hair. In the dappled sunlight the red of his hair caught a myriad colors, copper, gold and fiery orange. The translucent wings of pixies adorning his head like jewels made his stomach boil with anger. He wasn't jealous of a few insects, he wasn't upset when they taunted him, whispering in martin's ear and watching martin whisper back. He would be calm and collected no matter how much he wanted to scatter those bugs back into the trees.

so martin liked them. He could find him as many butterflies as he wanted when they got back home.

No, he wouldn't do that. Martin would be leaving. All he had was here and now. Wyrranestri swallowed his bitterness. Maybe he could be jealous. But he wasn't going to be happy about it. He had to look any where else and stop staring into martin's indifferent back. Above him the leaves rustled in the breeze. Pixies hid between leaves, here and there they ducked between hiding spots. There must be hundreds, he began counting. A handful of pixies wasn't a much trouble but this many was going to be an issue soon. He quickly looked back to martin, he was much farther ahead now, he was being urged by several more pixies. They crawled over him possesively, the buzzing grew louder. Wyrranestri dashed forword.

"Martin!" pixies scattered from the trees and foliage. He caught martin's waist first, and slid on one foot to stand before him. Martin caught his arms and watched as the swarm of pixies came from hiding. For several loud moments pixies buzzed wildly over head, Wyrranestri pulled martin into his chest. Then the buzzing dissipated. Out in the far branches the pretty pests were retreating.

Breathing hard Wyrranestri sighed in relief. Martin peaked up at him. His confused expression was enough of a demand for explanation.

"I was certain they were going to carry you away." He offered. Martin glanced out at the now quiet braches in stunned awe.

"They can really do that, can't they?"

"They're awful pests, known to eat people, one of the reasons it better to travel in a group."

"I could have been lunch" He smiled nervously.

"Could have been maybe, nothing to worry about now." Wyrranestri gestured to the sword on his hip "As long as we stick together, I can protect us both."

A playful smirk crept up martin's face "That's not fair you know."

"Is that so?" Wyrranestri leaned forward.

"I'm the one in the most danger I should carry it." Martin ducked away, he tipped his head grinning for Wyrranestri to follow him.

"I think I can handle pixies just fine martin." Wyrranestri caught up to him an a few strides and they continued down the path.

"I thought you said my sword work had improved" Martin countered looking smug.

"Let me help you Martin, I promised I have it under control."

"Don't be stubborn" he tugged on Wyrranestri's sleeve leaning in. Martin's chest on his arm ran a pulse down his body, surely he knew what this was doing to him? Fine, if he wanted escalation, that's what he would get. Wyrranestri took Martin's hand and clasped it between his, he put a chaste kiss to his knuckles.

"Mr. Hazelwood, I believe it is my duty as your professor to defend you, protect you with my life and that's what I intend to do here, am I allowed this honor?" Martin was turning red at this show of theatrics, quietly he pulled his hand away.

"Fine, alright." he retreated

"What do we say Mr. Hazelwood?"

"Yes sir." he colored further and turned away.

This feeling was one he shouldn't be having. These words shouldn't have been said but Martin would be gone when they got back. It felt good to have them now. Too good, he would show restraint next time. For now he enjoyed the way Martin bit his lip in frustration and considered how it would feel for him to do the same.