Treehuggers (closed to Disgraced)

[Skie and Avery]

She’d been beautiful, Avery mused. He stood now at the base of a great tree in the forest. They weren’t terribly far from the Red Room of Pain, the new home that Aurelius had brought him to. The cold was new to him, much more biting and brisk than any winter Concordia had to offer. His new friend had offered to have him clothed, but the demon king felt more comfortable in furs and hide he’d hunted down himself. They draped around him, a thick cape that did little to keep the wind from tightening his skin and choking his breath when it blew just right.

He had taken the proffered boots to keep from losing his feet, and now they were covered in frost crystals and a brush of dry powder from where he’d trampled through the winter crust across the ground. He’d been out for a walk, as he was want to do. Not far he’d found a small forest, the copse of trees almost purple as their snow-burdened boughs shaded the deep mahogany bark from the sunlight above.

There was something magic here, and he knew it. Here and there he caught a lifting hint of magic dancing amongst the trees, almost as if they were lights themselves. It was in this place that he liked to roam, and this morning his curiosity had been rewarding. He’d seen the dryad dancing. She had hair like willow branches, swaying braids that whipped and rattled around her nude form. Her skin was a deep dusky hue, her eyes as crisp and white as the snow that fell between the gaps in the foliage above to land on her shoulders and crown her locks.

Now she was a tree. That was the funny thing about dryads. Avery stood before the massive trunk for a while, thinking that as the wind rattled the branches above he could hear the lilting of laughter in the sound. He had to give the creature credit. She’d been smart. Before he could take over her mind with pheromones, she’d transformed, and a tree had little use for the mating calls of humanoid creatures.

Finally, with a grin, he shrugged and let the furs fall to the forest floor. Standing before the tree in his boots he pressed his body against the rough bark. The cold and the scratch of timber did little to impede his obvious need. His fingers moved up the trunk, claws slipping from their sheaths as he found a particularly feminine knothole in the bark. Slipping his fingers inside he sighed and ground his hips forward. The shake of leaves ahead felt like pleasure to him, but after a moment he realized they were borne more of fury.

The wind howled, obscenities hidden within the gush of a sudden storm. The forest was alive with magic, as the dryad unleashed her wrath. Other ancient trees around him started to move, their roots straining and creaking as they plowed upwards through the frozen soil and thick frosty snow. Branches reached and swiped at him. As Avery grabbed his cape and began to gleefully run through the forest, he looked over his shoulder. The dryadic tree was still shaking with rage, ents coming to life around her to give chase to him. He sent her a wink and a kiss and then cackling, began to flee in earnest.

[Disgraced]

Something reached deep within her, its blazing touch the only tangible thing in the numb void she existed in. Rachmiel opened her eyes and blinked at the blinding light. Sunlight bounced and flared off of snow and ice, cut only by the towering forms of winter shrouded trees. Enchanted with the glittering, frigid view, a smile tipped the corners of her lips up. Something shifted, a loud crunching, rustling sound pulling her attention away from the abundance of light.

Turning her head, her gaze landed on her hands laying on newly disturbed snow. Flexing her fingers produced the same sound. Interesting.

She sat up, filling her hands with snow. Her gaze fixated on the interplay of frozen water crystals and sunlight. Absently she noticed that the snow was only a shade or two difference from her own skin. Sprinkling the snow onto the ground around her, Rachmiel flung herself back down, arms out spread in her pool of sunlight.

A long melodic tone escaped her. Slowly it evolved into a soft wordless melody that wrapped naturally into the sighing of the wind, the muted creaking of the trees and the occasional hushed crunch of something moving discretely about in the underbrush. A distant roar of wind and wood slowly grew. Rachmiel sat up, the last of the melody springing from her lips to vibrate the air around her in a high ringing tone.

The sound of running feet approached as she stood, her hands reaching for her helm and settling it firmly in place. Though covered by black iron, she still watched the surrounding forest warily, loathe to leave her glorious pool of sunlight. Utterly still except for the gentle movements of her hair and clothing in the light breeze, she waited, half her attention on the sound of running and half on the warm caress of sunlight on her exposed shoulders.

Fur framed the naked figure that burst from the trees, snow encrusted boots protected its… his feet, she noted with a second look and a slight tilt of her head.

[Skie and Avery]

Behind him, the creak of boughs and crackle of roots unearthed were the percussion to the melody that was slowly growing. He could barely hear it over the sounds of his labored breathing, the slap of his feet on the snow, the shifting of it as he powered through, and the beasts that pursued him. Who knew oak made such a sound, the wet spattering of falling snow almost akin to bells on a cat collar. As he crashed through a copse of small trees, the song grew louder.

It had been some time since Avery had listened to a woman sing. He’d forgone music when his songbird left him, his wife taking with her the joy he found in any measure of tune. He couldn’t help but be reminded of Elena. A woman alone in a forest, singing until he came along – but where she had been huddled before a fire, this woman seemed fine with the frost and cold. She was beautiful, dark tresses flowing down alabaster skin. He saw a shimmer and shine in her eyes, impossibly light as to almost look like she had no iris, no pupil. But that was impossible, wasn’t it?

Before he could be sure, she’d covered her face with armor. Still, iron would do little against the things that chased him. Turning and slowing to stand before her, he ran his fingers through brown tresses, streaked with honey gold. His green eyes danced with delight and he smiled easily, showing an impossibly white, impossibly sharp smile.

“What’s a pretty jewel like you doing in a place like this?” he asked, as if he weren’t out of breath and shimmering with sweat. He made sure to extend his wing from under the fur, letting the black leathery skin glint and shine in the sunlight that wreathed the lovely girl. She hardly had a moment to answer when the creaking behind him stopped.

“Ah…” Avery muttered as he glanced over his shoulder. In the sudden interest he’d taken, he’d forgotten about what had been just meters behind him. Now the ent was towering over him, malice pouring from it. The bark along the trunk twisted here and there and somewhere in the knots and strains he could have sworn that there was a human face looking out and it was angry.

As soon as he’d locked his verdant gaze upon the creature, a thick branch swooped through the air, roaring as it did, and took him by the ribs. Avery went flying, feet flailing in the air and the furs discarded in a line along his trajectory, until he crashed into some bushes.

[Disgraced]

At odds with the enraged forest closing in behind him, the man stopped and preened before her. Running hands through the thick warm toned mass of hair and displaying a single black wing for her inspection. Am I supposed to… what? She wondered.

Her head turned to follow the airborne arc of the man’s body, admiring the shimmer of sunlight along the newly exposed appendage. Amusement pulled a tiny smile to her lips, the barest edge of cruel hilarity visible in the shape of her mouth.

“Entertaining.” She murmured turning to look back up at the Ent, her gaze flickering to movement behind the Ent and guessing more came still. “Do you normally chase down anyone in your forest?” The loud creaking groan of wood moving and rubbing was her answer, a large branch heavy with snow and still clinging pine needles knocked her aside.

Rachmiel blinked at the snow filling her helm and rolled over, finding that her left arm would not respond. Frowning, she sat up and looked down at her body. Annoyance tightened her lips into a thin line as she looked over the obviously broken collar bone and pine needles sticking out of her skin.

“Do you have any idea of how long it takes to heal a bone?” Rachmiel climbed to her feet, shaking snow out from under her visor and glaring down at the arm that hung at an awkward angle. Skirting around far edge of the clearing Rachmiel approached the man and prodded him with a foot.

“You, get up. What did you do to anger the forest?” She frowned down at him over the dozen or so pine needles still embedded in her skin that she hadn’t bothered to remove.

[Skie and Avery]

“The forest doesn’t appreciate a good romance,” he groaned as the foot touched skin too sore to feel real. Pain was exploding all over his body, and Avery was sure there were pine needles in places even the debauchery in the House of Sin hadn’t touched.

The beauty before him was hurt, and even with the demon King’s limited knowledge of anatomy, it was plain to see that her injuries should have hurt her more than they did. He would have been more interested, but there was an ent bearing down on them, and an angry one at that. He needed to buy them a moment, a shadow to hide in, and a chance to get away.

The urge to cast the spell was maddening, suffocating. Still, Avery waited for a moment. The ent went to swipe again. As it twisted, that’s when Avery struck. He allowed the tendrils of magic to whip outward, to wrap around them, to take them out of sight. His hand grabbed at a soft arm, smooth skin and cold to the touch. He jerked the angel towards him, and pedaled back. The branches of the ent went whipping by. The air was filled with the whistle of the motion, a breeze touseling hair. Barely, it missed.

The ent stumbled and stopped, looking around. The air was still crackling with anger and magic, but Avery held his breath. After a moment, the beast began to move back to its master. The dryad’s anger should have subsided by now, Avery mused. When the ent was deep within the trees it had emerged from, leaving a rut and row of felled branches and broken foliage, Avery allowed the magic to drop. Once more he saw the angel before them, their steps in the snow.

“Are you alright, my dear?” he asked, breathless.

[Disgraced]

Rachmiel sighed, her attention split between the figure at her feet and the moving tree bearing down on the. The creaking of its bark and branches still furious. I should leave this one to his fate. The forest is typically slow and patient, loving, until one oversteps boundaries.

“A good romance, what does that have to do with anything?” she asked, frowning hard enough the skin of her forehead creased and rubbed the cold iron covering her head. Her mouth popped open in protest at the warm hands grabbing her, pulling her around like a child’s poppet. The whoosh of air from the near miss silenced her protest. Rachmiel cocked her head in curiosity, watching the ent. She glanced at the man next to her then back to the ent as it began to retreat after a minute.

“Interesting… trick. Thank you. I’d rather have not sustained more damage.” Reaching up, she prodded the damaged shoulder, feeling along the bones before grabbing her arm and moving it carefully.

“Broken bones,” she said with a heavy sigh at the ragged crunch of bone ends grinding against one another. “I had hoped it was just the one. This will take several days worth of sunlight to heal.” Sparing the naked man a glance, she looked up through the skeletal branches. She searched for the sun’s position.

“Perhaps you should retrieve your cloak. Living, you’ll become damaged by the cold.” Absently, she wandered away towards the nearest warm spill of sunlight, pulling the first of the pine needles from her skin then looking down when it fell from her hand, as if far too heavy to hold, onto the snow at her feet.

“Mmmm, I had forgotten…” Ignoring the pale golden ichor that slowly pooled and oozed from the puncture wounds, she pulled the other needles from her flesh. Each one dropping away from her fingers like a lead ball.