Belenus

  Beguilement was broken when Fiachra pulled away drawing in a ragged breath. Belenus stepped back clearing his head of whatever had overtaken him.

  “I’m sorry, I didn’t intend to get so close.”

  “It was unexpected, that’s all. Come on, let’s get some air outside.” Fiachra led him through a nearby door into the gardens.

  He followed Fiachra along a winding path, focusing on everything around and intermittently looking at Fiachra who solely faced forward. He thought the house the night before was alluring, but it paled in comparison to how it looked now in daylight. He could more clearly see the colors that made up the complex scrollwork snaking up the trunk of the tree and the window frames, although he would have to stand still and study the designs to see what they were, but he didn’t doubt their distinctiveness.

  In too short of a time Fiachra stopped in front of the door to the Atelier and held it open for him. He walked in appraising it with a clearer mind. It was a nice-sized workshop that felt spacious despite the amount of furniture and supplies filling the inside. A few tables lined the walls and the remaining wall space had floor-to-ceiling shelves. The shelves ended at the frames of several long windows that let in light tempered by folding lattice shutters keeping the room dim but easily functional. Books and all assortments of supplies neatly filled the shelves, with some spread across the tables and pinned to the remaining free space on the walls. It balanced being cozy with being maintained and easy to work in.

  “Take a look at anything you might need,” Fiachra said coming up behind him. “I have reference books on herbalism and poisons along with any of the supplies your recipes will require.”

  “At first glance, everything here looks like it was foraged from your forest, I’m surprised to see that’s not the case with the imported ingredients you have hidden about.” Belenus picked up a jar of silver fangs. “How did you even get these?”

  “I have a fair amount of trade with other elves. In fact, it’s to them where most of my work goes.”

  “Do you trap them into deals as you did with me?” He gave Fiachra a wry look, to which Fiachra arched a brow.

  “You’re an unusual case. Everyone knows not to cross me, well, not everyone apparently.”

  “If only someone had warned me.” He walked over to a shelf with several books with silver gilded lettering. He picked one he didn’t recognize and leafed through it, inspecting its contents for quality. From skimming it seemed to contain some depth on curative and lethal properties of flora in Scathwood. Feeling he would learn more about Fiachra in this room than anywhere else, he shut the book and regrouped his efforts to look for something immediately useful.

  He needed enough familiar ingredients to have any hope of creating a fusion between the transmutations he had memorized and new ones. He recognized almost all of what he saw around the room from extensive research, however, very few materials were ones he had any experience in working with. On the second pass, he started on one end of the room and searched through everything over again, taking his time. It would be far easier to use anything in the room to make something than it would to make a troublesome journey home and back. Thinking on possible recipes was becoming increasingly more difficult in Fiachra’s presence. Although Fiachra said nothing and stayed out of the way, it was the fact that he was watching with those keen eyes that was the distraction.

  Eventually, he turned away from the materials when his eyes started swimming along everything. He leaned back on the table beginning to accept defeat. Nothing came to mind that could be deemed good enough, whether it was because it was too simple or too alike to what Fiachra could already make. He needed something impressive. He needed his atelier.

  “You look defeated,” Fiachra observed simply.

  “Don’t know what gave it away.” He crossed one leg in front of the other sinking lower against the table.

  “We’ll go back to the temporary trade agreement then. You’ll provide a personal item of value to ensure your return with whatever alchemy experiment you complete with the items you attempted to steal from me. Have you thought about what item you will lend me?”

  He scowled, considering it once more. Nothing came to mind that hadn’t already been denied. “When I went on this trip I did not pack anything beyond what I needed.”

  “At this point, it would be a waste to leave without the plants you came so far for.” Fiachra approached looking him over with a pleasant expression, but somehow, he felt stripped.

  “I have little inclination to waste this excursion and, in some capacity, I have already agreed to a trade.” Under duress, he added silently.

  “Can’t you think of something then?” Fiachra prompted, continuing to study every inch of him.

  This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

  He looked away and held still, keeping composure. Instinctively his hand twitched to a brooch pinned unassumingly to the wraps around his waist. In a fraction of a moment he stilled his hand away from it and glanced at Fiachra.

  “That will do.” Fiachra practically purred, expression narrowing slyly.

  “Not this, it’s too important for a trade of this caliber.” Unnerved, he took a step away moving off the table and toward the door.

  “If you have nothing else…” Fiachra took a step toward him closing what little distance there was.

  Belenus unpinned the brooch and closed his fingers around it to get it out of sight, it hummed with energy against his hand as he held it. Fiachra reached an arm past him pressing a hand to the door and resting weight on it to keep him from attempting to flee.

  “No running, you have already accepted the conditions.”

  “Take some of my clothes instead, or actually accept the gems I offered last night.”

  “Neither of those has importance to you and they don’t have use to me. You’re grasping at straws Belenus.”

  He closed his eyes trying to breathe and calm down, but Fiachra was too close and the subtle scent of sandalwood mixed with the dangerous edge to his words choked out any rationale he would have been able to conjure. Fiachra’s hand slid over his and warm fingers teased the brooch out of his grasp. The humming sensation stopped and he clenched his jaw trying not to crack and looked at Fiachra with a threatening glint in his eyes. Fiachra looked back, level and undaunted.

  “Fiachra, it’s a family heirloom, I can’t leave it in your possession.” In one swift movement, he grasped Fiachra’s shoulders and spun him, pushing him up against the door with a solid thud. He dug his nails into Fiachra’s shoulders feeling substantial muscles. Fiachra’s eyes darkened as they narrowed at him and the air went still. Wrong move.

  Fiachra pocketed the brooch before prying Belenus’s hands off his shoulders, gathering both of them into one hand. In the same measure Fiachra leveraged his weight, flipping their positions, Belenus was pushed against the door with as much force as he had initially used. He resisted, twisting his wrists in an attempt to free himself to no avail. Fiachra pinned his arms above his head, catching him at an angle that pit him eye level, forcing him into an awkward and uncomfortable slouch.

  “I was trying to work with you,” Fiachra said quietly, tone sharp.

  “Not very well, you’re going too far.” He said through gritted teeth. He gained footing underneath himself and tried to surge up to full height, straining to break free. Fiachra kicked one leg out from under him, resulting in a sudden struggle to keep a balance at all. Fiachra never lost purchase on his hold or even struggled. Really wrong move.

  “You went too far.” Fiachra pressed in and Belenus winced in pain.

  “I shouldn’t have grabbed you.”

  “No, you shouldn’t have.” Fiachra loosened his grip only enough to relieve the pain that was starting to set in. He thought better about testing the modicum of freedom and instead took a moment to think.

  “I should have restrained my temper to better handle the situation.”

  “I accept what passes as your apology Belenus, I expect you will keep control at least for today.” Fiachra’s expression softened a degree and he released him then, stepping back a couple of paces.

  Belenus lowered his arms and rubbed his wrists under the guise of fixing the cuffs of his tunic. He watched Fiachra closely, fairly certain he could see the change in expression as he fought to get himself under control. “Are you going to relinquish my family heirloom so we can work out something more fitting of less value?” He ventured, taking a chance.

  “No. I’m keeping it for assurance, especially after this.” Fiachra looked at him now, expression a little warmer but still ungiving. “However, I will allow you to take what supplies you don’t already have to offset the deal.”

  His body went cold and no amount of disproportionate peace offerings would temper the edge of his emotions. He kept silent but didn’t mask his thoughts from showing as he looked around the room. It was beginning to grow familiar and he noticed a lot of things he could use that he didn’t have. Nothing would compare to the brooch but he would make the most of what was available. “As I have no other choice at this point, I’ll accept what you have to offer.”

  “Of course. I try to remain fair and even the circumstances.”

  He began to rummage through jars and boxes keeping Fiachra in peripheral. He mentally reviewed recipes from memory, using focus and action to help shake off the adrenaline from the dispute. Whenever he found an ingredient he knew he would need that he didn’t already have, he set it aside in a tidy pile. By the end of his search, he had a fair collection that would still be easy to travel with.

  “I can do more than I expected to with these.” He looked to Fiachra wondering if he would contest the amount.

  “Then I’m certain what you bring forward will be all the better. I admit I’m fascinated by the prospect of experimenting and what you will create as the result of it.”

  “You understand at least in part how I feel.” Belenus lightened a small amount, tone softening as he imagined the possibilities he could test.

  Fiachra walked over to a covered table lifting dark fabric to a storage of trunks underneath and retrieved one of medium-sized that would fit the collection he gathered. “Here, take this to pack them in and keep them safe.” Fiachra half-smiled, becoming agreeable.

  “This will make travel far easier. I appreciate the accommodation.” When he accepted the box a conflict of emotions arose from the pit of his chest. He understood his own anger, but there was something akin to restlessness stirring. Everything since last night was a gauntlet of fluctuating emotion. Fiachra’s presence was too intense to sort through the mental cluster. “If you don’t mind, I would like to set out soon while it is still early for easy travel.”

  “I understand, there would be no sense in staying when there is no need to, but at least take lunch. I’ll have Brunaidh prepare something for you while you repack.”

  “A fresh meal would be dearly welcome, I have enough food stored for the remainder of the travel back, but it won’t compare.” He ventured to smile at Fiachra and managed a not-quite scowl. He compiled his chosen collection into the box with relative ease. “I’ll return as soon as I have a complete experiment to fulfill our trade.”

  “I’ll keep your heirloom safe for your return.”

  He simply nodded, mood plummeting too quickly to trust the words that would be spoken if he opened his mouth. His hand twitched to the spot where his brooch no longer sat, feeling its absence. He already looked forward to being able to return if only to have it back within his possession.