onewhoturns

A/N Nov 2018: The faeU continues! Always looking for feedback here or over on AO3 (as Iron and Gold). For more of my work check out my AO3, FFnet, and if you’d like a preview of 6-1 you can find it over on my ko-fi.

Story Title: Iron & Gold
Chapter Title: 5 (I can't fuckin title stuff to save my life)
Chapter Part: 3/3
Story Part: 17/?
Pairing: Emily/Outsider (emsider)
Word count: 1381
Rating: T
Summary: Ever since she was a child Emily had been cautioned: beware the fae. She’d heard the typical warnings – faerie rings, wishing wells, mysterious lights in the darkness. But they were just cautionary tales... [A Dishonored fae AU]
start here (prelude), previously (5-2), next part (6-1)

The further they moved into the forest, the thicker the canopy became, the woods growing dark around them. “When they-” Emily choked off. “...When I was in the palace…” She tried to find the right words to express what she’d observed among the ranks of the witches. “...She’s working with the fae,” she managed finally.

“Not all of them.”

She rolled her eyes. Well obviously not all of them.

“But yes, I noticed,” the Outsider went on, though Emily noticed the small smile playing on his lips. Had he seen her little display of annoyance? She glanced away with a touch of embarrassment. “She has Annis at the very least, and there was water magic puddled about as well - maybe a kelpie or nix. Something reminded me of Mara as well, though I doubt she’d ally herself with a human.”

She was aware of kelpies and nixes and nixies, but the names he listed were unfamiliar. Still, she was glad he spoke to her as though she knew. She’d rather be assumed more knowledgeable than she was than be underestimated. “And the barghest,” she added.

“Hm.” There was a touch of satisfaction in the grim set of his lips. “Well, at least that’s been taken care of.”

Emily’s eyes narrowed. So… that was what he’d been up to the night before? The snarls in the distance, and the blood under his fingernails? “Oh.” She quickly covered her surprise. “Right.” Of course. So was that why he’d been in that form? Did that mean he could take other forms? She supposed it made sense, with what she’d glimpsed in his magic.

“I suppose she could have another…”

“No,” Emily spoke with a firm confidence. “They way they talked about it -- it was the only one.”

He nodded, and it was like she could see the information being sorted away behind those odd eyes. “So at least one hag, maybe two, and likely more than one water creature. I wouldn’t be surprised if she recruited changelings to her cause as well, while in Faerie. Especially if she’s making witches.”

Emily had never heard such things spoken about so casually. It was a bit disorienting. “Her… her cause?” And making witches?

She spotted the twitch in the faerie’s jaw as his gaze cooled, glaring ahead into the darkness. “Delilah is more ambitious than you may realize. She won’t be satisfied with a mortal kingdom. Whatever petty revenge was her initial intent, she has her eye on a much greater prize.”

There was a long expectant silence on her end before Emily piped up with a sidelong glance, voice flat; “...Which you’re not going to tell me.”

He shot her a small tight smile, and she felt her heart skip a beat. “Do I need to say it?”

He didn’t. She could already hear the question he hadn’t asked: Will you swear your service? Until she said yes, she had a feeling there was a lot she wouldn’t know.

“It would be nice if you could just lay out what you will and won’t tell me at my current level of commitment,” she pointed out drily.

It was almost irritating the way his smirk made her stomach do somersaults, her skin going all warm and tingly. “It would be nice if you would let me save your life, but you appear to be too stubborn for such a logical arrangement.”

And she was too stubborn to acknowledge that he was right, as well. Instead, she just watched, allowing herself her fascination. Dropping back, she surreptitiously secured herself in the saddle, making sure her hold was steady, before she tried to manipulate her Sight.

It took a moment to find the balance where the light of his magic didn’t blind her, the constant shifting within didn’t block out the rest of her sight, but she was still able to see through the almost impenetrable glamour he wore. Once she did have it figured out, it was exceptionally odd to see him in the simple clothes of the castle stores. Everything else about him seemed so regal and alien - just the way he carried himself would set him apart from mortal men even when glamoured. But beyond posture… She found her gaze resting on his hands, the soot-black skin that seemed to grow its own gauntlets of bark and thorns, though she could only see some of that part not covered by sleeves. Was his hand still smoldering from the burn? She couldn’t tell from where she rode.

Gradually she shifted her stare over the rest of him until she examined his face. How could something be so youthful and so ancient all at once? His skin was disconcertingly unblemished. And they really do have pointed ears… Bizarre. From this angle she could barely see his irises, making his eyes appear depthless pools of ink. And his lips…

“Are you going to kiss me again?”

The words were out of her mouth before she recognized thinking them.

The Outsider turned his head to look at her, brows lifted in mild amusement, and she blinked in surprise, returning her vision to normal, but refused to look away. Even as she felt pink creep up her neck she didn’t back down. It was an innocent enough question. Or… well, it was a question. Her face was completely blank as she watched him expectantly. She refused to be ashamed of her own fleeting thought. At least… she was really trying not to. No-- she refused to.

“...Is that a request?”

Ten different answers piled up on her unmoving tongue.

The smile playing upon his lips wasn’t quite as malicious as she’d expected. It was a sort of genial playful thing as he cocked his head curiously.

Had she meant to ask that? Some stubborn part of her insisted that of course she had, and there was nothing wrong with that-- but then her brow furrowed.

He’d turned away. “The fault is mine, not yours.” It was a casual assurance spoken over his shoulder, sparing her his direct attention. “I have been away from humans too long. I should have expected such a reaction.”

She eyed him warily, suddenly hyper aware of her own frail mortality. “...What do you mean?” Something inside her flinched at his flippant tone, shriveling up even as she bolstered herself with false confidence.

The look he shot her was soft - almost pitying. “Your pockets, Your Majesty. Don’t you find them oddly light?”

It took her only a moment to catch his meaning, and she balked. “I’m not - you didn’t - that wasn’t said under some enchantment.” Was that what he thought? Some weak-willed girl so entranced by fae beauty that she’d throw herself at him? ...She hoped that wasn’t why she’d said it. She nibbled the tip of her tongue until it split, sucking at the blood and trying to think analytically. So if her words had been drawn forth by some kind of passive enchantment… were they still her thoughts? Taking her eyes off the faerie she picked at the stitching on her horse’s tack, giving herself something else to look at.

It may have been harder to admit to herself, but her thoughts hadn’t changed: she still wanted to kiss him. But the wish was more a curiosity than a demand, something she wondered vaguely but had no intention of voicing.

So perhaps he was right.

Her lips twisted in frustration at the realization, and that familiar ping against her nerves as she caught his eyes again did nothing to lighten her mood.

The pity had faded and he watched her now with a curious consideration. She could sense him choosing words carefully, but wished she knew what calculated course he navigated in his own mind. “When we spoke last night... you requested a gift to resist enchantment.”

She made no reaction. She hadn’t forgotten.

If only she knew what he was thinking. A small divot had appeared on his brow, as though warring thoughts disturbed his otherwise placid conscience. He seemed so hesitant, she just wished she knew why.

“Would you… Would you like to practice?”

That was all? He’d hesitated so much she’d expected some grand reveal, but he was just proposing exercising her will a bit? She made no attempt to hide her surprise, though her enthusiasm was palpable. “Yes. I mean-- yes, definitely.”