Perhaps there is something wrong with his finely pointed ears because he could have sworn Cheri had just claimed to not hate him at all. She says it so nonchalantly that he is sure he is mistaken, sure he had gotten it wrong. He had dabbled in perhaps too much nectar earlier and surely this was the price he was paying now. It takes all his restraint to not flick his gaze in her direction, to hold still and simply listen for once. Sure enough, she clarifies but it is still not what he expected. Now he turns his full attention on her, an unreadable expression darkening the gilded features of his face as he meets her earnest jade-green eyes.

Surely she is lying. She calls him good and he openly snorts, just as uncomfortable with this as he had been when Oceane had called him kind. She smirks and reminds him of his visit to Loess, when he had treated her as if she was nothing to him. Nothing more than the dirt beneath his and Aela's hooves. He raises a brow, the smug smirk widening as he fights an internal battle within himself, trying to decide if he believes her or not. Trying to find a new buoy to grab on to now that she had yanked that safety net clean off.  “I recall that you sauntered into my home before that looking to use me to make your boyfriend jealous.” He comments lazily, as if it hadn’t bothered him at all. As if she hadn’t managed to hurt him beneath the layers of cruel words and thick hide he wrapped himself in. As if he hadn’t thought about that particular moment over and over again even after all this time that’s passed between them.

He is silent as she finishes her declaration, as her praise falls around him and he shifts slightly, tension thrumming through his sable body. The stars across his chest glimmer with the movement as the constellation flexes along tense muscles. Of course it all sounds promising but he still can’t quite believe that there wasn’t some sort of trick here. Something he was missing. “You’re keeping something from me.” He finally says and it’s not a question, not one he expects to be answered anyways.

She doesn’t ask him if he still hates her. So he says nothing, the Fae in him sniggering with the realization that he was not the only one asking the wrong questions. For all her brilliance, she had a bad habit of missing what was always right in front of her and perhaps this is what aggravates him most about her. He lets the silence stretch between them again, the sounds of distant conversation catching on the breeze now and again. He can feel the warmth ebbing as the sun begins to descend over the Mountain, feels the softness from the tip of her wing which still lingers along his barrel and knows that he can no longer linger behind the ambitions of the women who infiltrate his life.

“Alright Cheri.” He finally says quietly, the blaze of his fiery eyes alighting on her once more. “I will agree to your truce. But only if I get something to make it worth my while.” A wolfish grin spreads across his lips, a devilish gleam in his crimson eyes and wonders where her mind might race to. What he might ask of her. The Wisp between his ears laughs brightly but only he has the ears to hear it.

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He had noticed that her fresh rainy scent is no longer bogged down by him, the lost boy Prayers who he had met once by the River. It wasn’t that there was something exactly wrong with Targaryen. An unthreatening unassuming sort of stallion. Such a safe option. He just expected more from the mare who had stood unflinching in the darkness, in the whirlwind of a storm. Even through her tears she hadn't cowered from him, had stood her ground and fought back. Would Targaryen draw that wildness out of her or was he frightened of it? What it could lead to? Cheri was so intent on her goodness with her healing, her constant need to fix everything. Didn’t she ever grow tired of it? Of being so perfect all the time? He remembers her glazed eyes when she had stumbled tipsy beside him, how she had goaded and laughed at him, how she had been so daring.

He wishes he could see more of that, could uncover those parts of her and let them shine.

She takes her crown and already seems to wear it heavily, the weight of responsibilities turning her serious. Making her feel as if she is her crown and only that. But he knows better. And as someone who had found that the best way of alleviating that pressure is by wearing his own at a slanted angle, by not caring quite so much, he decides that he’s not going to back down with her. Not on this.

“Even Oceane knows how to live a little from time to time.” His roguish grin deepens as she plays coy and tries to distance herself from his agreement, recalling the genie indulging in the flowers as Cheri had once done with him years ago. Maybe the green and onyx mare would wonder how he knew that and he likes the thought of making her speculate what he had gotten up to with her mentor when she wasn’t around. She tries to take back control but he merely shakes his head, that predatory glint in the depths of red. “Now now, that’s no fun is it?” He pulls himself away from the tip of her wing, a few scales slowly peeking out beneath his fur. “Besides you know how us Fae like our bargains.”

He closes that small distance between them, his skull snaking out as he arches his broad neck as he deftly plucks a small crumpled flower that had somehow gotten caught in those shimmering green strands of hers. Releases it at her hooves as he pulls his muzzle back to himself, a knowing smile catching at the corner of his lips. Feeling much more in his element. “All I ask is a favor from you and only you at a time of my choosing.” His voice drops lower as he murmurs to her, holding her bright gaze with his dark probing one. For once hoping she would stop resisting him, that she would just let down her wall of duty and obligation. Just a little. “Will you trust me Cheri?” He asks her, that devilish spark in his eyes lingering even as it changes into something else. Something he doesn’t quite understand, that he’s still unraveling.

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There is that twinge of annoyance he had been seeking. He finds something else too as she defiantly lifts her head at his boldness and levels him with her pointed gaze that only makes him grin brighter. Her throat exposes itself to him and for a moment he swears he can see the way her pulse moves beneath her skin, feels an overwhelming hunger but it is not like the chaotic uncontrollable one that takes over him when he shifts into the serpent. It is a feral craving that changes that wicked grin back into smugness, as his nerves begin to get the best of him. As she arches her back and his smoldering gaze lingers on the movement, unable to tear himself away from these little gestures as he wonders what they might mean.

It had been a long time since he had been this close to her. Alone.

He can see the conflict in her eyes but finally she seems to calm, smiles at him in her infuriating way, and flips everything back at him. Difficult as always but he isn’t put off by the challenge. And it is a challenge, he thinks as he regards her with that smirk. This was never going to work was it? There had been too many blows between them, too much discord and snide remarks shared. And yet.

And yet.

With a sigh, he tosses the dark ribbons of gold and black from his face where they had momentarily covered his glittering red gaze. And ever so carefully, reluctantly, he removes a small heavy piece of his well worn armor that he has donned for years as that smirk spreads with each word given. “I smile when I’m uncomfortable. A nervous tic if you will.” This rare insight into him he hands to her, uncertainty dimming the brightness that had glowed in the fiery depths of red. Powerful in the wrong hands and he would have rather kept it to himself. Had never expected to share something personal with her. But it is a risk he feels he needs to take even if it might end up blowing up in his face, even if she decides to use that against him. The Wisp between his ears has become eerily still as if holding it's breath, entranced by the drama playing out before its invisible eyes.

“So.” He watches her closely, that unreadable expression smoothing the hard lines of his face as the smugness lingers on his lips. A smile that she can now be certain of.  “Will you agree to my deal?”

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He had made sure to drag all her flaws before her eyes and refused to let her turn away from them. What he had never done was bring out all the other things that had captivated him instantly that night he had found her in the Meadow. There were plenty of beautiful young creatures in Beqanna and he had sampled a few of them. It took more than long lashes and attractiveness to lure the dark Fae in and even more than that to keep him wanting more. Aela had caught him with her ambition but had kept him at her side for as long as she had simply out of the mutual darkness they carried, born from disappointing childhoods. They had never spoken openly about it but there had always been something mutual in their past that had seemed to click instantly when she had sought him out amongst the wildflowers. Revelrie had entranced him with her wild brokenness, sharp pieces of her that he could pick up with his fingers and smile in understanding as he watched the blood leak from where they pricked him.

Cherie had always been something else entirely.

When he had first laid eyes on her he had been overwhelmed in his need to break her, to dim her shine. And then he had discovered the rough diamond beneath her pretentious exterior and no matter how hard he had tried to remove it, she only seemed to shine all the more brilliantly for it. Amongst the hatred that had flowed so purely between them stirred something else, something much more insatiable.

It rages through him now as her gaze softens in the wake of his quiet admission, as his cardinal eyes bore into hers and tries to penetrate past the sparkling quartz adorning her head and see what exactly she was thinking. Alas he doesn’t have the skills to see the choices around them like her cousin Reave, can’t sense the energies that spiral around them like Aela can, can’t see the future like she does.

He tenses before her as she opens her mouth to speak, fully expecting more resistance. Instead she complies. However her voice doesn’t hold the teasing bite he had hoped for as she dips her swan-like head and he follows the arched curve of her neck as his own voice rumbles like threatening thunder. “I’m well aware.” Her mouth hovers close to his and those brilliant red eyes become stained with wine as they darken. As he becomes sensitive to how easily he might steal her lips with his own as he had once done long ago. ”One way or another.” She says as she leans in. As she pulls away.

It is not the first time she has made a fool of him and he doubts it will be the last.

As she tucks her muzzle back into herself he releases a slow breath, one he hadn’t been aware of holding, as tantalizing delight pulses through his bloodstream, peppered with a little malice that flickers behind his eyes. There is a subtle twinge of relief as well that lingers gnawingly on his brain. That she had not kissed him. Not when he was still so confusingly tangled within Aela’s golden web, not when he was still certain that Cheri was merely taunting him. That such a kiss could only be a lie. “Where is Prayers anyway? Or did he get lost again?” He asks her, a tinge of smugness on the knowing smile he gives, that wicked expression settling back across his gold-dusted features.

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If she had tugged him, he would have been unable to resist. Despite the tethers that hold him to another, he knows that all it would take is the crook of her finger and the unspoken promises behind it and none of it would even matter. It wouldn't matter if it was all a fallacy or not. The talk of Targaryen is enough to squash those blossoming images in both their heads and he can’t help but study her face with open curiosity as she speaks of the missing stallion. His brow furrows as he scans her, confused by the lack of sadness he finds there. Did she not care that he had disappeared? Or did she have her own set of scales that she hid behind when things had not gone her way?

His knowing grin had been sustained from that very meeting she was unaware of, when he had pieced together just who Prayers was. When the dots had connected. He vaguely recalls the conversation he had with the strange painted man and the corner of his lip flickers into a hint of a frown. As he debates on what exactly he wants to share, if he wants to share at all. Now the Wisp brushes gently against his ear, glowing brighter in the growing dusk, reminding him of its presence. He is quiet for awhile as he converses with his bound companion. “Tell her.” It whispers, sounding excited. His frown only deepens as he considers the orb that comes to hover over the tip of his muzzle and sends the faceted gold along his face to glitter brilliantly beneath its light. “Why?” He asks Light plainly, trying to sort out what his Wisp would get from the truth. ”Trust.” is all it says before it twirls around Cheri. Brushing it’s transparent lit body against the crystals along her forehead with a gentle tinkling sound before it darts into the oncoming darkness to hover over the surface of one of the smaller streams that cuts through the meadow.

The Wisp was a lover of pranks and tricks, like he. It also seemed to feed off emotion, mostly pain and grief and fear he has come to find. And at times it guided him with a sense of wisdom that he doesn’t always have himself. So which is it this time that inspires Light to speak up? Wisdom? Or was he on the hunt for a feeding frenzy?

His simmering gaze lands back on Cheri and he chooses his words carefully, unable to look away from he comes to a decision. As he looks for any small gesture of heartbreak that his words might bring. “Once. Awhile ago by the river.” He hesitates, still unsure of what he was doing. “He mentioned something about losing track of time. Forgetting.” Here his stare breaks as he glances away, the smirk lifting those turned down corners of his lips as he reflects on that conversation. “Have you heard of this happening before?" he had asked of the Dark Fae. Yes, all too well, yes.

There is a peculiar need in him though that needs to know, that needs to find out if she was upset. And if she was, if she truly loved this soft sad boy of hers… If she was trying to find him. “If I see him, I’ll send him your way.” He says nonchalantly, as if it wouldn’t cost him anything at all. “Do you miss him?” He finds himself asking even though he’s sure he doesn’t really want to hear the answer. 

A dark idea takes root in his brain and his red eyes flash suddenly in warning as he looks to her once more, his tone much more serious than it had been before. “He could be in Hyaline..” He says quietly, his gaze severe as he gazes down at her. Wondering just how much of those rumors she had heard coming from the East in her absence, rumors that he had seen up close and personal. “But I wouldn’t recommend going there.” He pauses but he knows Cheri, how headstrong and stubborn she can be. And with a flash of irritation with both himself and her and all the other things he can’t control, his tone changes into something more demanding. More like a command which he is sure she will bristle against but he can’t help but give it regardless. “Stay away from Hyaline. And Gale.”

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