[Dishonored: fae AU] Iron & Gold: 6. (emsider) 1/?*

[onewhoturns]

A/N Nov 2018: So. Chapter 6 (7 on AO3) is going to have a lot of technical stuff. I’m a sucker for the imagery of magic control so... it may be wordy and potentially clunky... Though that’s mostly 6-2. A little in this section too, though, so if you’ve got feedback on if/how to clean it up and make it more concise, lemme know. Always looking for comments. ^^  Elsewhere: AO3, FFnet, ko-fi (for 6-2 preview).

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Story Title: Iron & Gold
Chapter Title: 6 (as of yet untitled)
Chapter Part: 1/?
Story Part: 18/?
Pairing: Emily/Outsider (emsider)
Word count: 1798
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 (5-3), next part (6-2)

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“The key to resisting enchantment is an unwavering surety in one’s own self.”

They’d paused mid-afternoon by a stream Emily had never been aware of before. Then again, they’d been traveling far from any path she’d known, the forest parting to let them pass. While she’d taken a moment to rest, the Outsider had slipped silently into the trees, melting down to shadow again, and returned a few minutes later with an update about the witches’ progress in their search. Satisfied that they had a substantial lead, with the witches searching west instead of east, he’d initiated her first lesson.

“Doubt is both necessary and disastrous. You cannot doubt the tenets of your will, but you must doubt what you are being asked to do.”

She found his direct attention a little off-putting, especially while he stood, unfazed, knee-deep in water she’d considered almost too cold to rinse her face with.

“The most successful enchantments are not presented merely as orders but as suggestions, complete with reasoning. Unfortunately, while slightly easier to cast, those are also harder to resist.”

It was a relief to break eye contact as he stepped a few careful steps toward the side of the stream where she sat with legs dangling off the edge of an overhanging rock, but that relief was quickly gone once he was only a few feet away, almost perfectly eye level with her.

“So we will start with the more clear-cut, less elegant enchantments.”

One moment she was staring into those golden eyes...

...And the next she was watching him frown.

“What-”

It came to her in a rush, even as she looked with surprise to a hand she hadn’t chosen to raise. She snatched it from the air, an unpleasant shock clanging at the base of her spine. Her skin crawled just knowing that it had happened. That he’d asked her to do something, even something as trivial as lifting her hand into the air, and her body - her mind, even - had done it without a second thought.

She stared at her hand like it belonged to someone else, feeling her pulse stutter. Her chest felt tight, strained, and she swallowed hard.

“Emily.”

Brown eyes were wide as she met his gaze, unable to hide that touch of fear that had seized her, squeezing tighter and tighter. Deep breaths. Calm down.

But before she could calm herself it happened again. Another skip and rush of memory, this time the simple motion of closing her hand, turning it over--

She yelped, scrambling to her feet, blood rushing in her ears. “Stop it--” Her voice was too loud, but she couldn’t turn it down. “Stop, I changed my mind-”

Fingers trembled, her whole body shaking - too hot, too cold - and she clenched her hands into fists, letting her brain gradually assimilate what could have only been a few seconds of time out of her own control. Her mouth was dry, throat tight. She must’ve stood still for a solid two minutes, staring at the ground, before she forced herself back to the present.

When she finally looked back to the stream, she realized the Outsider hadn’t moved an inch. He was watching, brow ever so slightly furrowed, with that expression that was becoming almost familiar: something between concern and curiosity.

Counting her breaths, Emily stared down at her hands, flexing them experimentally. She could feel how red her face was, and instead of being embarrassed just felt angry. No, not quite angry… frustrated. Frustrated with herself, and him, and magic in general-

“I apologize.”

His voice was so smooth, moving like the water he stood in but with none of its chill, his tone instead subdued. Still standing in place, his palms were turned toward her in a manner that immediately reminded her of approaching a skittish animal. Was that how she seemed to him? Thinking through her own actions… perhaps.

“I haven’t tried to teach anyone in-” His eyes flicked aside for a moment, as though racking his memory for the answer, before he inclined his head slightly. “It’s been a very long time.”

Emily sighed, glancing down at her own clenched hands and letting some of the tension leave her body. “I’m sorry.”

When she looked back up, she saw the smallest of smiles on his lips. “No you’re not. And you have no reason to be.”

Admittedly taken aback by his words, she gradually felt her mouth curving ruefully. “...Fair enough.” He still hadn’t moved, and she took a few slow steps back toward the bank.

There was a moment of hesitation as he watched her, seeming to weigh words on his tongue before he spoke. “...If you would rather, charms work far more efficiently. I just thought… Well, unless the curse is suspended…”

Brown eyes narrowed and Emily’s lips pursed.

“I could not continue suppressing the symptoms if you wore a charm to counteract the spell.” It wasn’t voiced with the intonation of a warning, yet it clearly was one.

Scarcely did anyone hold her gaze so brazenly. Too often eyes were lowered courteously, or she would give a gracious nod and avert her own eyes - but he so rarely looked away. And more often then not when he did it was more for her sake than his own. Now he watched her with something she thought might be forced casualness - a bizarre expression to see on him - and she very briefly wondered why.

“Or we can set aside resisting enchantment entirely.”

She shook her head, glancing down at her feet for a moment. “No, no, I still want to learn. I was just… shaken.” Gradually she returned to where she’d been perched, but made no attempt to sit again. It felt more secure making him look up to meet her eyes. Having the upper ground. “I don’t suppose there’s some other way to start?” The question was straightforward, no wheedling or whining on her part. It wasn’t even particularly hopeful. If there wasn’t… well, there wasn’t. She’d figure out a way to handle it.

He nodded, though it seemed it was more in consideration than confirmation. “We may be able to come up with some alternative.” He stepped through the water slowly, watching his steps, and leaned his elbows against the rock shelf once he reached it. Again, it was markedly odd to see something so regal behave so casually. She glanced down at him, the way his chin rested on clasped hands as he watched her, but she made no move to retreat. “First, though, I think we need to discuss boundaries.”

She scuffed a boot against the rock absently, considering. “How so?”

He raised an eyebrow, but seemed to take a moment to choose his words, folding his hands before him as the casual demeanor melted away. “Do you trust me, Your Majesty?”

Mirroring his expression, she stopped herself from answering with the first thing that popped into her head. Yes… and no. Her life was valuable to him, he’d proven that. But he’d also stated quite plainly that he… how had he worded it… “I only have so much time I can invest in you.” Yet this whole endeavor seemed quite an investment of time. It very clearly wasn’t going to be easy. She very clearly wasn’t going to be an easy person to work with. But he still offered. Still intended to put in the time.

“I caution you to think before you answer.”

Doubt trickled into the back of her mind. She was leaning toward yes. Why would he steer her away from that answer?

“Consider your admission earlier, Majesty.”

It was such a clear warning. She didn’t try to hide her confusion at the statement, but she heeded his advice.

Earlier...

As they’d ridden. When she’d voiced her unintended question. Words had left her mouth before she’d chosen to speak.

And in the palace. (That familiar creeping prickle along her spine returned, but she forced herself to set it aside.) In the palace she’d been mindless, compliant. And when he’d arrived and questioned her she’d been confused. Because he asked her to do things she thought were wrong -- but not wrong to her, wrong to the enchantment. And all she’d wanted to do in that moment was to make him happy. To do what he’d wanted. To do what he asked.

Oh.

Oh.

“Will you swear your service?”

She would’ve said yes. In that state? She wouldn’t have hesitated.

Emily’s stomach rolled. “Ah.” A muscle in her jaw tightened.

“I ask you again, Your Majesty: Do you trust me?” There was an edge to his voice.

She couldn’t help it; she stared, utterly perplexed. “...You want me to say no.”

He stared right back, but remained silent.

“Do you want me to say no?” It wasn’t quite a demand, but it was close.

His reply was quiet, and she was once more reminded of how one might approach a particularly wild animal. “A smart woman might.”

She had no subject-granted titles. She wasn’t Emily the Wise, or Emily the Cunning. She was just Queen Emily. And at this point, with Delilah on her throne, some may not even consider her that.

Her eyes were sharp, though not quite a glare, more an expression bordering on exasperation as she crouched before him, bringing her face mere inches from his. “Do you promise not to make me agree to the contract under enchantment? Not to swear my service not of my own free will?”

There was a long pause. His look was cool. He didn’t seem angry per se, but he didn’t look particularly happy about the direction this conversation was going. He seemed to answer grudgingly. “...Yes.”

They were awfully close, weren’t they? She watched the slight frown on his lips for a moment before she spoke, her words softer than she’d intended. “Then I trust you.”

If she were to lean just the slightest bit forward… if she were to lay her hands flat on the stone and move just an inch or two toward him…

How had it felt, her lips against his? How would it feel again? If she let herself explore him, would he taste the same? The ideas floated through her head lazily as she stared. When she spoke it was a quiet murmur, politely inquisitive. “Are you affecting me right now?” She hadn’t taken her gaze from his mouth.

After a moment of hesitation, his response was just as soft. “No.”

Her eyes flicked to his, in an instant reading a wariness in them. Wariness and something else… something she wanted to believe was restraint and not regret. For a second neither breathed. Finally, with a distant interest, she let out a contemplative, “Hm.” Another pause. “You wanted to discuss boundaries?”