#fluffhozier

To Fall for the Fae | 01 (M)

Pairing: Andrew Hozier-Byrne/Unknown Female

Genre: Fanstasy, Modern, Romance, Smut, Fluff, Angst

Words: Chapter 1: 1,774

Summary: Andrew Hozier-Byrne unknowingly searches for the woman that pulled him from the bog 3,000 years ago. Unknown to either of them that in this modern world their souls are still intertwined from the life they shared long ago. She is unavailable, he’s not giving up. Will the woman that inspires his music be wooed by his songs or will he lose his chance? That’s Wasteland, Baby!

Note: A/N: This is a story requested by my best friend to be written about her favorite musician. I have been inspiried by his songs and specific lines. Any reference to his music is use in the name of inspiration and creating art. I do not own any of his music. Any reference to Hozier in this story is fictional and used by the author in the name of crafting art. I want to thank all who read it. I have fallen in love with this story and would love to hear from you. It will be written in installments. The finished story should be well over 50,000 words. Enjoy.

To Fall for the Fae

The death had not been simple. It had not been easy. It had not been painless.

He spent his last days wrapped in sweat soaked clothes. Flushed with a fever slowly ravishing his tall lithe body like a tree dying from rot. They could do nothing more than wait for the merciful inevitable end.

It was not a quiet death. He ranted, he raved, he howled like a feral wounded beast. Then there were times when he sang. He sang the sad sweet music he used to before the draw of sin consumed him. Back when his nimble fingers would pick out slow sensual chords that matched his words that could be harsh one moment then kind the next. He would spend his days serenading the empty air. The trees his only audience, his only love.

He cried out a name, begging for her. A woman. They had never heard him speak this name before. It left them no idea where to begin to search for her. Still in his delirium he begged for her. Offering his soul for the very chance to feel her cool hand brushing his wet hair limp with sweat from his brow.

His death had not been simple. His funeral had.

A pine box. A trip deep into the bog. The wet mud sucking at their shoes. Trying desperately to drag them down along with him. It was Andrew alone destined to become one with the place he had loved most. He was the only one that wet ground would accept. It longed for him.

They laid him down softly in the cold dark earth as the bog took no time to swallow him whole.

They were still left with the ringing of that name in their ears as they trudged away from his final resting place. Perhaps now in death his soul would find a way to crawl back to her.

They could hear her name even now. It ate away at their souls. The plants whispered his forgotten love’s name.

He died alone but not lonely.

Such is the fate of the fae.

Yet as they headed back home to the warmth of their houses they could her his lyrical voice calling one last time.

One word only.

That damnable name.

He whispered it.

“Madison”

OoOo

He rolled off her neither tired nor satisfied. She moaned. Her eyes still rolling into the back of her head as the le petit mort consumed her.

She had taken him to church of that there was no doubt. Still with the sedating buzz of the deathless death he felt hollow inside.

Dissatisfied.

She was a lovely girl. A classic beauty like a heroine from an old black and white flick.

She was everything a man could love.

However, he liked them wild. Untamed, With a soul like a bird that could never be caged.

He could see her then in his mind. Eyes like emerald pools. Reminding him of the rolling hills of Ireland. Of a life clinging to his mind even though he had been far from it for too long.

Her hair was long. Falling to below her waist in dark locks. The strands would be baby fine so he could run his fingers through them for days.

Her nails...her nails he could almost feel grazing his scalp as she’d try fruitlessly to finger comb the tangles from his hair.

Dark brown most times his hair with a trick of the light would turn to a shade like copper fire in the sun.

He could never see her full on. Just a profile. Her individual features. Then she would turn from him and walk out of his mind.

Her name would be on his lips. Whispered under his breath like a prayer to a deity that he didn’t believe in.

“Madison”

He saw her like this only after that sweet release. Perhaps that was why he tried desperately to find her in the women he bedded. He did it rarely. Never cheap. Never fake. For those moments he loved them. The weight of them in the arms he never used to hold her.

He was not loose nor did he consider these women to be either. There was romance always. Seduction. A fondness that could be mistaken for love. Instead he always felt restless. They weren’t her. They never were.

“Is everything alright?” She asks. He looked at her then through the flame of his lighter as the tip of his cigarette began to glow red.

For a moment this beautiful lass, her eyes dancing in the flames, could be her. Just for a moment.

Madisonhis subconscious mind whispered.


I wouldn’t know where to start. his conscious mind thought.

“Yes baby, of course.” He leaned over then and kissed her on the light flesh of her shoulder that peeked out from beneath the crisp white hotel sheets.

He pushed her from his mind and that was that.

OoOo

His fingers picked out the notes bit by bit.

It was 5 am and the city below him glowed on like a town on fire. Everyone was asleep but still those lights burned out the very glow of the stars above. Artificial blocked out the natural beauty. That’s the way of humans though wasn’t it?

The way of love too. You could fuck and mask it as making love all you wanted. Still she had groaned out “Baby...baby...baby” the whole time. As if she couldn’t even remember his name. It would have only been worse if she’d screamed “Hozier!” at that final peak of orgasm.

He’d convinced himself it was real, yet here he was bitter and unhappy on the roof of the hotel, guitar in hand, trying to get two women out of his mind. One a fantasy that would haunt him until the grave. The other asleep in his temporary bed, in this temporary home, in a city that would one day be swallowed back up by the earth. Then only then would nature have won over the fake. Perhaps if he was swallowed by the earth once again he would be free too. Free of her.

He always felt this way after. Always. It felt so good. That romance that seduction beforehand. Hands grazing each other across the table. Crooked smiles exchanged. Words, oh how the words wooed him.

Then the way they would kiss the skin that groaned from him. Play his body as expertly as he played the guitar. It felt good. It felt real.

After though he was bitter. Restless, dissatisfied, angry with himself.

Another girl. Another broken heart. Another attempt to get her out of his head. He could hardly stand it some times.

He allowed for just a moment his mind to drift to her and the words came easy. They always flowed from him like a language of babble spoken in tongues when he thought of her.

His fingers moved over the strings and he parted his lips letting the words slip from his mouth softly.

“Wasteland Baby...I’m in love...I’m in love with you...”

OoOo

“Love with every stranger, the stranger the better eh?” One of the roadies joked as Andrew descended the front steps of the hotel alone. Oh to be alone with you his thinking mind thought as his subconscious mind called her name.

Always, always searching for her. Never satisfied by the absence of her. It called out to her as if it could simply call her to him. It had been calling to her for 29 years and had yet to deliver.

He tried to not think about her by choice. Still the part of his subconscious that he had utterly no control of constantly called to her. Nonstop. Every moment. Every day.

Until he felt like his sanity was leaving him. The only time he felt sane was when he wrote his music. It was actually her music.

She was the muse that sent him the words. No true artist can create without a little tragedy. A little torture. A lot of torment.

“I know her middle name. Mother’s maiden name. Every school she went to plus the list of every pet she’s had over her lifetime. She was hardly a stranger.” Though now she feels like one he thought of their parting.

The throwing of things. The shattered lamp he’d have to pay for. He didn’t care about the cost. He simply felt if a lamp was going to be broken in one of his hotel rooms he'd rather it be in the middle of passion.

Slamming her back against the wall until the plaster cracked and rained down on them. Her foot as he slid inside twisting out in a spasm of pleasure knocking the cheap light fixture to the ground where it would shatter. A wave of moans creating a symphony soundtrack to the ripples of pure ecstasy flowing through them.

If he was with her that’s what it would be like.

“Sorry I didn’t mean to imply...” Andrew clasped the roadie on the back and offered him a wane smile.

“Don’t worry about it.” He was trying to prove more to himself than anyone else that it hadn’t been a meaningless pursuit to clear his head once again.

He ran a hand down his face and sighed.

“I think I could use a strong drink.” Andrew smiled at the thought of the cool liquid burning a hot path down his throat. He ran a finger through his tangled hair and looked quizzically at the guy.

“I know a bar a few blocks away. I don’t think anyone would recognize you there. Decent whiskey.” The guy shrugged apologetically at the last part.

“Tonight I’ll take decent over nothing.” They exchanged a knowing smile that imparted that silent unintelligible “guy” language that women would forever cease to understand.

He shrugged himself deeper into his denim jacket as they left the scene of that hotel with the room forever damned by the smell of sex with another woman that he was never meant to be with.

OoOo

A man like a tall tree stalked a path down the cool night streets of a city he only vaguely knew. His feet dragged. He was dead tired not from sleeplessness. No he dreamed of her every night. That alone lulled him happily to sleep. Instead it was the weariness of the day. The pain of facing the world alone in sea of adoring faces.

Pairing: Andrew Hozier-Byrne/Unknown Female

Genre: Fantasy, Modern, Romance, Smut, Fluff, Angst

Word: Chapter 4: 1,821

Summary: Andrew Hozier-Byrne unknowingly searches for the woman that pulled him from the bog 3,000 years ago. Unknown to either of them that in this modern world their souls are still intertwined from the life they shared long ago. She is unavailable, he’s not giving up. Will the woman that inspires his music be wooed by his songs or will he lose his chance? That’s Wasteland, Baby!

Note: A/N: This is a story requested by my best friend to be written about her favorite musician. I have been inspiried by his songs and specific lines. Any reference to his music is used in the name of inspiration and creating art. I do not own any of his music. Any reference to Hozier in this story is fictional and used by the author in the name of crafting art. I want to thank all who read it. I have fallen in love with writing this story and would love to hear from you. It will be written in installments. The finished story will be at the very least over 50,000 words. Enjoy.

The Fate of the Fae: Chapter 4

They called her the willow woman and the forest father was hopelessly heartsick for her.

As they trekked back from the forest father’s cabin to the doomed village he fell in love a little more each day. It was small things. The way her front right tooth was a little crooked but she never tried to hide it when she laughed, which to his delight was often.

Her laugh was like the tinkling sound of shells strung from his cabin roof. It rang through the clearing. He could tell from looking at the elder and the lines creased into her forehead she was losing hope. However her daughter, the willow woman, was hopelessly hopeful still. She maintained that they could save the village.

The forest father did not share her same hope but he still loved to hear her talk about the happier times her village would come to know in the future.

She believed he would save them.

He knew desperately that he was no savior.

When the elder fell asleep at night he would walk the edge of the woods with her. She was the first woman he’d known that did not jump at the sound of the baying monsters deep in those dark woods.

She closed her eyes and relished the sound.

She was wild.

And feral.

He was in love already.

It was unheard of a fae born outside of a clan being with the daughter of an elder.

It was more than unheard of it, it was forbidden.

He knew, he knew, he could not be with her.

Yet, still he'd let his fingers graze hers as they walked, talking about anything and everything. Her dreams, his music, the woods, the water, the trees, this earth that was constantly changing.

One night when he grazed her fingers with the rough tips of his calloused hand she slipped her hand into it. He was shocked and almost froze his heart beating faster than it ever had. He felt foolish in a way. The forest father, pillar of pride, falling in love. He couldn’t help it. It was a force beyond him.

He gripped her hand tighter as if he could keep her anchored to him that way. He ran his thumb over the back of her hand and she did not say anything about how rough his skin was.

They did not talk then. They did not need to. They both could hear what the other’s heart was calling out.

They were in love.

They were doomed.

Such is the fate of the fae.

OoOo

When his time came they could lay him gently in the cold dark earth and he would crawl back to her. The thought came to Andrew’s mind from somewhere deep inside. He felt a connection to this woman, Madison, in a way he had never been connected to someone before.

He needed her. Every move of her body, everything she did made his heart ache. She pushed her long hair back over her shoulder and it almost looked purple in a trick of the light. It was like a punch to the stomach seeing that hair color but he couldn’t tell why.

She looked instead of amazed by his magic trick of pulling the name from thin air impressed. Like this was the response she had been hoping for.

'I’m...” He started to say just to fill in the silence that stretched long and thin between them. She eyed him suspiciously.

“Andrew.” She supplied just as he had and he shook a little. Did she actually know the name or did she recognize him?

“Do you know who I am?” He asked stupidly feeling like it was an arrogant question. It felt different though, as if he was asking her if she knew who he was from a long long time ago even though this was their first meeting.

“No...should I?” She didn’t meet her eyes when she said it. She was hiding something. He frankly didn’t care.

“No. I’m nobody.”

“Everybody is somebody.” She replied a wry smile on her face. That smile matched his. A slightly crooked front tooth. Some memory wanted to tug itself free from his mind but he wouldn’t allow it. Stay in the moment he told himself over and over again.

Her smile faltered as her phone let out a high electric chirp. She quickly pulled it out of her pocket and glanced down at the screen. A look of almost horror passed over her face and she stuffed the phone into her pocket. Scanning the crowd as if looking for someone she turned wide eyes to him.

“I’ve got to go.” She told him in a rush and started making her way through the small crowd of people still hypnotized by the music and gyrating to it’s call.

“Wait...wait please!” He shouted following her through the crowd and out onto the busy street.

“I need to be somewhere.”

“I need to talk to you. Can we exchange numbers or something?” Or anything he thought desperately. He’d gladly throw her laughing over his shoulder and carry her back to his hotel if she’d let him. He shook his head. It was another thought that felt completely foreign to him.

“I...no...I just can’t. Let me go Andrew.” He wasn’t even touching her but he could feel the weight of her words. She was telling him to back off. He respected everything about her so he did. Stopping dead in his tracks on the street he watched her as she wandered away from him. Every movement of her body moved him. When she moved he was moved. It was a desperation.

When she was a good ten feet away she stopped dead in her tracks and paused. He held his breath as she paused. He watched her pull something out of her pocket then she spun on her heels and marched towards him. She got close enough that she could grasp his shirt. She yanked and he obligingly lowered his head.

“Tell no one I gave you this.” She slipped a piece of paper into his hand. The feel of her hot breath on his ear blowing strands of hair that tickled his face made him grow hot. He wanted to turn and let their lips simply brush. A featherlight kiss as if he had never been there. Then he saw the wide eyed look she carried and he drew back. She was scared. Scared of what she’d just done.

She spun back around and stalked off down the street.

He took the time to glance down at the piece of paper tucked into his hand. Her name and a phone number were crawled in hurried handwriting. He looked up but she’d already disappeared. The smell of perfume like lilies of the valley still hung in the air.

He felt empty without her presence. He carefully folded the paper and tucked it into his shirt pocket.

“Hey, I thought you’d abandoned me for another stranger.” Larry joked coming up behind him and almost scaring the crap out of him. He refrained from jumping at the sound of his voice. Still her stared up the street as if the very weight of his stare could force her to come back.

“Any stranger, the stranger the better.” He murmured thinking of this purple haired Cinderella running off down the street at the call of her phone as if the very device owned her life.

“Ready to head back?” Larry clamped him on the shoulder. He had to lift his hand to reach his shoulder as Andrew was sprouted like a tall tree. He waited a few moments before answering still staring at the space she had occupied only moments before. He waited to see if she would return. When the silence had stretched on too long he turned to Larry.

“Yeah mate. Let’s head back.”

He couldn’t help but turn his head one last time and he could swear he saw her resting against the building, one booted foot resting against it, watching him. When he blinked though she wasn’t there.

OoOo

She watched him go until he was safely down the street. Then she turned the corner and rushed down the sidewalk.

“What took you so long?” His voice was slick like oil, the serpent long sent from Eden to terrorize her. She looked up at him, her keeper.

“I had to shake someone.” She told him as he ushered her towards the black town car waiting for her at the curb with a hand on her lower back. Frankly a little too low for her liking.

“Anyone I need to take care of?” He chewed on his toothpick and raised one questioningly eyebrow at her. A chill went through her body. She could imagine what he would do. The blade he would bury in his sternum and jerk until silver blood spilled across the sidewalk. Not Andrew, please not him.

“No I took care of it.” She hadn’t. She’d made everything worse by giving him her number. It was stupid. She couldn’t help it if she tried. When they danced, like they were standing still, like they were the only people in the room, she could feel every ounce of love she felt for him lifetimes ago. She ached for him and his absence from her now hurt like the very knife cut this snake of a man would dig into her if he found out what she’d done.

“As you say.” He mumbled climbing into the back of the car with him. She felt trapped as he closed the door and she stared out the dark tinted windows. She could see but hardly be seen.

Such was the fate of the fae.

OoOo

One winglessly winged creature trapped in the darkness of the life predestined for her drove from the sight of her love long past.

The other trudged through the streets, seeing her in every woman that danced and laughed merrily along the houses of sin he walked past.

Both held the other in their mind.

Both ached for each other.

Both felt the absence of one another in their arms, their hearts, the place they held the ultimate sensual flame.

They felt empty.

The man of the forest pulled out a lighter and lit another cigarette. In the flame he could see her and he could feel himself falling for the flame. He could hardly turn his eyes away from the burning red flame. All you ever have is your fire. Don’t tame it. Never ever tame those demons. He knew though, this feeling building inside of him, the feeling over her note burning like fire in his pocket needed to be kept on a leash.

He thought it ended when he knew love’s perfect ache.

He knew now that this feeling of emptiness would never leave.

Not until he felt the weight of her in his arms.

Her.

Madison.

Such was the fate of the fae.

Pairing: Andrew Hozier-Byrne/Original Female Character

Genre: Fantasy, Modern, Romance, Smut, Fluff, Angst

Words: Chapter 10: 2,117

Summary: Andrew Hozier-Byrne unknowingly searches for the woman that pulled him from the bog 3,000 years ago. Unknown to either of them that in this modern world their souls are still intertwined from the life they shared long ago. She is unavailable, he’s not giving up. Will the woman that inspires his music be wooed by his songs or will he lose his chance? That’s Wasteland, Baby!

Note: A/N: This is a story requested by my best friend to be written about her favorite musician. I have been inspiried by his songs and specific lines. Any reference to his music is used in the name of inspiration and creating art. I do not own any of his music. Any reference to Hozier in this story is fictional and used by the author in the name of crafting art. I want to thank all who read it. I have fallen in love with writing this story and would love to hear from you. It will be written in installments. The finished story will be at the very least over 50,000 words. Enjoy.

To Fall for the Fae: Chapter 10

This was the farthest into the woods he’d made it so far. It was promising though quite suspicious. Forest Father had yet to see one of the monstrous beasts. The woods were silent, any type of wildlife already hunted to extinction long ago. The loss of easy prey had probably led the Cuuls to brave life outside of the forest. To hunt bigger prey. To hunt the fae.

He ducked under a low hanging branch. Up ahead was an apple tree. He’d long since stopped taking stock of the strange when he entered the woods. Faerie forests were notorious for being equal parts glorious and strange. He approached the tree slowly never taking his eyes off the surrounding area as he observed the apples fat and blood red like poison.

“You may have one if you like.” He’d smelled him before he heard him. Andrew was not startled by his voice that was deep and gruff. There was a harsh edge to it like he was trying very hard to sound polite when he’d rather bark orders at the Forest Father.

“No thank you.” It would have been rude not to answer and he was already skirting danger with his refusal of the fruit. There were certain rules in the Fae world. If a follow faerie offered you food you took it. Such were the ways. To refuse was an insult to their clan.

The man stood with a groan and came around the gnarled twisted trunk to observe Andrew with cruel calculating eyes. He had the expression of a hunter. He assessed Forest Father as prey. There was no curiosity there. This man knew exactly who he was addressing. He knew Andrew’s clanless as he maybe. They both were very aware that they were in each other’s territory. Each of them claimed the woods as theirs. This was quickly turning into a pissing match. They regarded each other warily waiting for one of them to make a move.

“You really should try one, they’re divine.” The man reached up and picked two apples. He tossed one at Andrew who easily caught it.

“I’m fine, thank you.” Andrew kept the apple clenched in his hands as he kept his eyes on the man now walking lazy circles around the tree. He paced like a wild animal. His chest was bare, glistening with sweat, his hair was a mess of short curls black as the night, his eyes a striking blue practically neon. It was the eyes of an animal. He was wearing a long sarong of black fur as if he had killed one of the beasts and skinned it. It was most likely exactly what had happened.

“You don’t trust me. Ah I understand.” The man took a bite of the apple letting the juices trickle down his chin as he the sweet fruit crunched between his teeth. “See? Not trying to poison you, I swear.” He made a sign of crossing his heart. Andrew did’t find it as funny as this beast slayer seemed to. Forest Father scanned the woods again but kept this man in his periphery to be sure that he did not make any sudden movements.

“You can relax. They won’t come for you. Not while I’m here.” The Beast Slayer as Andrew had dubbed him in his mind continued his pacing watching Andrew as he continued to devour his apple. He tossed the core to the side and picked another one from the tree and tore into the sweet pure flesh of the fruit.

“What do you want?” The Forest Father was done with the pleasantries. Why was this man here and what were his motives. He could sense they were less than heroic.

“What do I want? What do I want? That’s the question now isn’t it Forest Father?” Andrew felt even more wary as the Beast Slayer began to laugh as he regarded him with his cool blue eyes. He finally paused in his pacing and looked deep into Andrew’s eyes. It was like he was looking into the very depths of the Forest Father’s soul. Whatever he found there he was not impressed.

“For starters I want you to leave this place. Not this forest, this entire village.”

“That won’t be happening.”

“Tsk tsk you haven’t heard everything my heart is yearning for now have you hm? So quick to answer. I wonder what it is she sees in you.” A sliver of ice ran down Andrew’s spine. He growled and lunged. He gripped the man by the throat letting the feral side of him free. The side he kept locked up at all time. He forced the Beast Slayer to his knees. The man willingly let the Forest Father lower him a cocky smile on his face the whole time.

“You do not speak of her. You do not say her name. You do not even think it.” Andrew growled through clenched teeth. The man let out a choked laugh as Andrew’s hand tightened around his throat.

“Oh so strong. Oh so brave. Intelligent...well we’ll have to test that. Alright I concede. You’ve won...this round at least.” Still the grin stayed on his face. White teeth sharp as points flashed out at the Forest Father. “You keep the Willow Woman safe dear Forest Father. As safe as you can that is...” Anger blazed through him and his hand struck the Beast Slayer backhanded across the face. He flew back and hit the trunk of the tree causing several apples to rain down from the branches.

“You never say her name.” Andrew commanded still fuming. He’d kill him now if he knew the full game he was playing. The Forest Father ran a hand through his hair smoothing it down, an old habit to calm himself. A thin trickle of blood ran down the Beast Slayer’s face from a split lip.

“Oh Forest Father, you’re going to want to run now.” The Beast Slayer’s eyes glowed even brighter and his teeth appeared even sharper as he grinned at Andrew.

A chorus of monstrous howls broke out. With nary a backwards glance Andrew took off running. From the sheer sound every monster that hunted in that woods were on his heels. They snapped at him their huge jaws always a hair breaths away from his skin. He ran faster than he ever had.

He was almost to the tree line when one of them hit him from the side. He went flying. With a sharp crack his head hit a rock and everything went black.

OoOo

This was all to familiar. Her thrown over his shoulder pretending to beat her fists against his back as he carried her back to their love den. It was like being a part of another life. He laughed as she demanded playfully that he put her down and lightly tapped his back with her fists.

“I’ll let you down baby when I have you where I want you.” Well ‘Oo la la’ she thought to herself at his words. It was almost comical the situation, still a ball of nervous energy in her chest warred with the electric current running from her breasts down to her clit. Her body was alight with emotions not quite sure which one it wanted to feel first. Something deep in her knew she shouldn’t be doing this. That she should scream for him to release her. To release her like he had so many years ago. Some other part wanted him to release her in a whole different kind of way.

A lifetime, this lifetime, of waiting for the Forest Father to offer her release. She couldn’t turn it down. She needed it. Needed him. She needed to be filled and fucked by him.

“Forest Father.” She whispered against the fabric of his t-shirt.

“Willow Woman.” He answered without thinking. He didn’t know why he said it or what it meant. He noted the contented sigh she released when he called her that. Finally she rested her head against his back and resigned to letting I'm carry her wherever he was taking her.

He was never this forward. He’d never thrown a woman over his shoulder and carried her back to his hotel room. This felt like a different Andrew. A wild man. A feral beast. He liked it. Something about it felt right.

He gave an awkward one handed wave to the person manning the front desk as he walked past Madison still draped over his shoulder.

“Sup?” She called to the man and they both burst into giggles as the employee gave a slow wave back with a very confused look in his face.

When they stood outside the door of the hotel room he paused for the slightest of moments. Something felt so right about this but his thinking mind told him to think twice. Did he even know anything about this woman? ‘You know everything about this woman’ his subconscious mind whispered. Before he could break into an inner argument she finally spoke.

“Put me down.” It wasn’t a joke this time. He immediately hoisted her off his shoulder and she held her hand out. He stared for a moment then reached for his wallet. She kept her hand out. He started to pull bills out of his wallet.

“Do you seriously think I’m a hooker? And even more seriously were you actually going to pay me if I was?”

“I...I mean...” A smile lit up Madison’s face and he visibly relaxed feeling idiotic. She kept her hand outstretched though and he looked at it curiously.

“Put your money away I want the keycard you idiot.” She smiled a bright grin at him and he laughed. He rubbed the back of his neck feeling awkward then pulled the keycard from the front of his jeans and handed it to her.

She opened the door and he paused outside of it. Her hand reached out, gripped his, and tugged him slightly in the door.

She closed the door behind them with a deafening click.

His fate was sealed.

OoOo

Bates paced the entryway of the house. It was empty. She was nowhere to be seen. Even the staff had scurried off to their respective houses. He was alone with no one but The Snake for company.

“Where is she?” He growled flying into a rage. His anger bubbled up more and more. He knew wherever she was she wouldn’t be alone. He’d tear a piece out of her hide when he found her.

“I don’t know mi lord.” The Snake replied. He didn’t really care where she was or who she was with. This was only a minor inconvenience. He knew he’d find her. He was the best tracker in employ. He was tired though. It’d been a long day and he wanted to go curl up and sleep. His annoyance with the Wiley fae know as Willow Woman grew. When he was annoyed it was better to not be the target. She would come to regret this decision.

“Find her.” Bates commanded pulling at his curls. “Find her and bring her to me. In one piece.” He added the last part looking The Snake in the eyes as he came to stand before him.

“Of course mi lord.” The Snake turned on his heels and stalked towards the door. He did not know what his master saw in this woman. Sure there was status in marrying her but he had status enough. Envy would be the best explanation. The Forest Father wanted her, almost had her too, it made his master happy to take that joy away from him. Regardless of the reason he would make Willow Woman regret this one way or another. She’d come back in one piece of course, but just barely.

“Do not let me down.” Bates’s voice echoed through the halls. The Snake touched the brim of his hat as he continued the long walk to the front door. He would not let his master down. He never did.

OoOo

The clock had struck midnight.

Cinderella should have ran.

She soon would have no choice.

The beasts were on the hunt.

The Forest Father had her wrapped up in his spell.

The spell he could cast with a look.

With a word.

With a song.

She would know soon enough.

She would sense them on her heels.

She would smell the stench of them.

First she would feel the Forest Father’s teeth sink in.

Then oh then it would be the beast with their teeth in her delicate flesh.

Such was the fate of the fae.

Pairing: Andrew Hozier-Byrne/Unknown Female

Genre: Fantasy, Modern, Romance, Smut, Fluff, Angst

Words: Chapter 7: 1,870

Summary: Andrew Hozier-Byrne unknowingly searches for the woman that pulled him from the bog 3,000 years ago. Unknown to either of them that in this modern world their souls are still intertwined from the life they shared long ago. She is unavailable, he’s not giving up. Will the woman that inspires his music be wooed by his songs or will he lose his chance? That’s Wasteland, Baby!

Note: A/N: This is a story requested by my best friend to be written about her favorite musician. I have been inspiried by his songs and specific lines. Any reference to his music is used in the name of inspiration and creating art. I do not own any of his music. Any reference to Hozier in this story is fictional and used by the author in the name of crafting art. I want to thank all who read it. I have fallen in love with writing this story and would love to hear from you. It will be written in installments. The finished story will be at the very least over 50,000 words. Enjoy.

***Warning Mild Sexual Language****

To Fall for the Fae: Chapter 7

Her hands were tender as they turned his arm this way and that, looking the bite over with a warm, peaceful demeanor. He couldnʼt help but watch.

“What?” she asked, not looking up at him. Instead, she dabbed another alcohol soaked piece of cloth over the deep puncture wounds. It stung like liquid fire deep in his muscles but he said nothing. He refused to even jerk as she pressed the cloth stronger against his skin to try and staunch the flow of sparkling silver that was quickly spilling onto the floor of her cabin.

He couldnʼt tear his eyes away from her face. The way her long black hair fell like a curtain and she constantly brushed it out of her eyes as she worked on him. Bits of silver glittered in her hair as his blood began to tint her hair. The blood showed no sign of slowing down and she let out a frustrated huff.

“Nothing.” He whispered quietly in response to her question. Still he didnʼt look away. She raised her eyes momentarily to look him in the eyes then turned back to the task at hand.

“These are deep. Youʼre lucky it didnʼt take your whole arm.” She pressed even harder against his skin until he could feel his arm throbbing with the force of it.

“I had control of the situation.” He reassured her.

“Oh yeah? Doesnʼt look like it. Hold this.” She instructed, indicating the cloth. Andrew took the cloth from her and held it as silver began to flow even stronger now that her rough pressure was gone. He felt the absence of her warm touch and his heart ached without it. He hated that he was so addicted to her touch. The feel of any bit of her skin against his.

He watched as she rifled through her drawers. Finally with a satisfied grunt she returned to the bed; her bed, he finally realized. The sunlight glinted off the bright metal of the needle. With very little effort, she threaded the bit of string through the eye.

“This isnʼt going to feel good,” she warned, pressing the tip against his skin. “It didnʼt feel good to start with. Did you have to pick blue thread?” He asked, letting out a hiss as the needle bit into his skin.

“I told you it wouldnʼt feel good and it was the only thread I had on hand. The village weaver...didnʼt make it,” she admonished and he instantly felt bad for his comment. He was being callous in the face of all that had happened here. He looked around her cabin. It was strung with mason jars filled with half melted candles. Colorful cloth hung from the walls and the ceiling, creating a kaleidoscope of the space. Everything was bright and cheery. Vastly different from the death and destruction that hung outside the door. He could still smell the stench of death as the smoke from the pyre filtered in through the open door.

She cut the thread with her teeth and he could feel a stirring deep within at the idea of her mouth so close to his skin. Her breath on his arm was hot and moist. She dabbed at the wound with the cloth once again, mopping up the rest of the silver from his skin. She pushed her hair back and looked up at him, satisfied.

It was without thought that he buried his hands in her hair, tugging gently at the strands as he pulled her face to his, crashing his lips against hers. They had kissed before, oh, had they rolled in the grass of fields, his lips against hers. Kisses stolen in the black darkness of the night, away from her mother, as they traveled here to the hell of the fae. The place she called home now a dark pit.

They had chalked it up to the wine they shared at night. They had chalked it up to anything but what it was. He could blame the blood loss. He could and yet, he couldnʼt. Not anymore.

Their lips finally parted a long time later. While her fingers were still tangled in his curly locks, he tilted his mouth until it was against her ear. His breath disturbed her long dark hair. It rose and moved in little tuffs as he tried desperately to keep the words in, but he no longer could.

“Madison, I am in love with you.”

OoOo

“She’s gonna save me. Call me baby. Run her hands through my hair...” His body did a ‘bouncy bouncy’ rhythm as he belted out the chorus of “Jackie and Wilson”. His music was his life blood. It was the ultimate expression of his innermost thoughts. His hidden desires, his fears, mostly eternal random bullshitery. His love of words, of the guitar, it all came pouring out in an eclectic mix of music. He could go from fast tempo to slow and sweet. He could make the crowd dance, rail, cry, and sing.

He put even more into his performance tonight. More than he thought he possibly could. Every performance he felt he gave his all. Tonight though, he knew he gave 1% more. One tiny sliver more of energy he gave to this. All because he knew his Wasteland, Baby was somewhere in that crowd.

OoOo

The roar of the crowd was deafening. He sang. The crowd sang back. The people writhed and undulated like holy rollers at a revival meeting. He could control them as easily as he used to control the things that went bump in the night. The forest dwellers. He could control them with a look. Here that voice, like a siren calling he brought their bodies from their daily stagnation into sweet movement.

It was all so intoxicating.

Madison switched from watching the crowd, back to staring at the Forest Father. That may no longer be his title but it was still how she thought of him in her mind. He carried his common name from the past life, the life he no longer remembered. The life they shared, already forgotten. She hadn’t forgotten. No, she was left to agonize every time she heard his music in every club and bar she danced in. To see him playing on television was like a knife twisting in her gut.

It was stupid to be here. This would end in no other way than tragedy. Still, she couldn’t force herself to leave.

“Feels good. God it feels good...” He sang in that sweet timbre.

“Oh, to be alone with you,” she whispered the words under her breath.

Then he howled like the wild beasts he used to control.

It was like her skin was burning. Her clit throbbed in time to the music. Fuck, that man could still control her body with just his voice.

When he began the first chords of “Cherry Wine” Madison could feel tears begin on her cheeks. The lights were dark with bits of red threaded from behind him. It made her feel self conscious about the tears falling. She let them come fast and furious, refusing to wipe them away.

“I walk my days on a wire,” she sung along with conviction in her voice. Every day for her was a tight wire act. Trying desperately to be herself, and at the same time keep Bates on some type of an even keel. Anything to keep him from flying into a rage; things got bad, very bad when he lost control. Still the Willow Woman in her cried out to be let free. To dance, to sing, to be loved, not controlled.

The tears came angry and fast.

Then it was over.

The lights came up and the stage was empty.

Her phone buzzed. She had been gripping it so tightly in her hand that she had angry red marks on her palm.

...Wasteland, Baby. Where are you?...

...In the crowd. It was an amazing set...

There was a pause and she sighed. He was probably decommissioning from performing and she would be getting home anyways.

...I’m doing a meet and greet after the show. Can you stick around? Someone will come get you...

She needed to get home. She couldn’t get herself to type those words. She couldn’t get herself to reject the invitation. She paused and took a deep breath, staring down at her phone.

OoOo

He looked down at the phone, worried. She hadn’t responded for a good long while and he felt his gut clench. Maybe he’d overstepped his boundaries?

...I can hang around for a while...

Her reply came and he felt a lift in his spirits. Her reply was simply and lukewarm. He didn’t love it, but he’d take it.

...I’ll send someone for you...

They were calling him out for the meet and greet. He felt strange. Like his body was slowly tingling. A low thrum under his skin, like his blood calling to something, though what,he didn't know.

The name Willow Woman came to his mind. He stared at his phone quizzically. Why did that name, if that’s what it was, sound so familiar to him? Why did he picture Madison when he thought of it?

His manager called his name again and he jerked from the thought. Still the name hung on his lips. Wanting desperately to be said.

“Willow Woman,” he whispered under his breath just to test it. It felt like a wind swept through the hall even though the door to the outside wasn’t open yet. His hair rustled with it. Something deep in his chest stirred. Like a dragon slowly unfurling it’s wings.

Something had happened. He simply didn’t know what.

OoOo

She gasped. Deep and aching, she bent over in the crowd. No one saw.

He’d called her name.

Not her common name.

Her name of the fae.

Did he remember? Could he be brought to remember?

“Forest Father,” she whispered and it hit her like an arrow to the heart. A connection deep and painful anchored in her. Tears pricked her eyes.

No, she shouldn’t have said it. Even if he did remember, she could never be his. She couldn’t back then. She couldn’t now.

“Madison?” Someone asked. She looked up through watering eyes at the man smiling kindly at him.

“Yes?” She asked tentatively.

“Hi, I’m Larry. I’ll bring you back to see Andrew.” Still he smiled and she felt a warm sense of comfort from him. Madison followed his outstretched hand and he followed at her side.

She tried desperately to cut the cord that now connected her to him, Forest Father, Andrew Hozier-Byrne as he was known now. She couldn’t no matter how much she tried.

What had she done?

They were doomed.

OoOo

Two souls crying out to each other.

One remembers.

One forgot long ago.

Together they’d laid in that field so long that they’d become flowers.

Oh so long ago.

Then, death was happy, welcomed, such was love.

Now, one welcomed the idea of death.

The other searched for the ability to live truly.

They were in love.

They were oblivious to it.

They were doomed.

Such was the fate of the fae.

Pairing: Andrew Hozier-Byrne/Unknown Female

Genre: Fantasy, Modern, Romance, Smut, Fluff, Angst. Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut

Words: Chapter 6: 2,003

Summary: Andrew Hozier-Byrne unknowingly searches for the woman that pulled him from the bog 3,000 years ago. Unknown to either of them that in this modern world their souls are still intertwined from the life they shared long ago. She is unavailable, he’s not giving up. Will the woman that inspires his music be wooed by his songs or will he lose his chance? That’s Wasteland, Baby!

Note: A/N: This is a story requested by my best friend to be written about her favorite musician. I have been inspiried by his songs and specific lines. Any reference to his music is used in the name of inspiration and creating art. I do not own any of his music. Any reference to Hozier in this story is fictional and used by the author in the name of crafting art. I want to thank all who read it. I have fallen in love with writing this story and would love to hear from you. It will be written in installments. The finished story will be at the very least over 50,000 words. Enjoy

The Fate of the Fae: Chapter 6

He’d told them he was no savior.

Still when he returned from the woods silently, not meeting their eyes, the clan scoffed. Some Forest Father indeed, they thought to themselves as he trudged past.

They ignored the thick stream of silver blood that ran a steady river from his upper bicep to his fingers. It stained the ground leaving a sparkling trail behind him as he made his way back to the village.

The dirt pathways that dissected the town, creating a makeshift road between the impermanent buildings were choked thick with the smoke of burning fae. He pulled the collar of his shirt up over his mouth.

Skirting his way around the burning funeral pyre he finally caught a glimpse of Willow Woman, now Madison as he called her in his mind, helping to carry limp bodies and heaving them onto the flames. The fae had sickness of their own and it was dangerous to leave so many dead in the open. Plus the scent of that thick silver blood attracted the monsters. Whether it was dried or fresh the sickly sweet scent of it drew them in like nectar to a bee. It was dangerous. Everything about this village cloaked in the stench of death was dangerous. He yearned for nothing more than to grab Madison and drag her kicked and screaming back to the safety of his cabin.

He’d settle even to live like nomads on the land. Camping out at the edge of the woods. He’d even let himself believe that she wouldn’t fear the trees. That she would plunge herself deep into the woods with him at her side. They could live, deep in the darkness of the forest, away from all of the evil of this world. She was pure of soul, the woods would accept her. He knew it in his featherlight bones. She was the light to the darkness deep within him. The light of this world was as bright as his willow baby. The night’s were as dark as the world of his baby but they were half as beautiful too.

He was half tempted to stalk towards her, throw her over his shoulder, and leave this place. She could bang her fists against his back and scream until she was hoarse but he was determined to get her away from here. Anywhere but this cursed place.

Andrew quickly realized that he was standing in the middle of the village intensely staring at the back of her form as a pool of his blood gathered at his feet. He shook himself and ran his uninjured hand through his hair groaning. The bite hurt like a bitch and he wasn’t happy about it.

He had made little progress in the forest. Barely getting a few feet into the woods one of the monsters had jumped him in a blind attack. He’d lifted his arm to cover his face and thus earned himself a wicked bite. The smell of his blood had attracted so many that he knew there was no chance of making anymore progress into the woods. He was looking for the leader not the lackeys. He’d landed one booted foot in the chest of the beast and heaved with his long limbs. It’d gone flying.

Before any of the others could get some fangs into him he’d turned intense eyes on them. There was a moment of complete silence as the entire forest paused. He knew he couldn’t hold them for long, not this many, still the Forest Father commanded their attention. He was the damn Forest Father for fuck’s sake they would bow under his gaze.

There was a chorus of growls but slowly they sank to their haunches. Quietly and smoothly he exited the woods still holding his gaze upon them. When he’d cleared the tree line the spell broke and he heard baying howls.

This place was cursed. This place was fucked.

Willow Woman as if sensing his pain or simple sensing him turned. She had a wet cloth tied over her mouth to help with the smoke. Without seeing her mouth he could not read her expression. Her eyes looked wet but whether from the smoke or something else he wasn't sure.

A small woman almost the size of a child laid a hand on her arm. The woman had long dark hair and olive skin. She turned to see what Madison was looking at and locked eyes on Andrew. She narrowed her eyes but still he couldn’t read her expression either with the cloth covering half of her face. She gave a small almost enthusiastic wave. Andrew gave a small lift of his hand in response. He realized then that her eyes weren’t narrowed but instead crinkled with a smile. She placed a hand on Willow Woman’s arm and leaned over to her ear to be heard over the fire. The blaze ate her words but Madison shot him another look before nodding.

She turned from her work and made her way to him. Pulling the cloth down from her mouth he could see that she was frowning. Her look made a knife twist in his stomach. It was the first time she didn’t look happy to see him. They stood for a moment staring each other down not saying a word. Finally her eyes locked on his arm and a look of tenderness passed over her face.

“You’re hurt.” It wasn’t a question. There was fire in her and he loved when it came out.

“It’s only a bite.” She sighed and rolled her eyes. It made him smile and when she saw him smiling she smiled too.

“What shall I do with you Forest Father?” She asked with a sound of fake exasperation in her voice.

“Andrew.” He supplied and she looked at him surprised. Then a feeling of warmth spread through his chest as her face lit up. “And...Madison...” He tested her name on his tongue. She didn’t protest at the use of her name so he continued. “You can do anything you want with me.”

OoOo

Alexis threw Madison’s door open to find her curled up on the bed her phone clutched to her chest. She clucked her tongue at the sight and moved to the window throwing open the curtains. Madison groaned from the bed and covered her eyes with her arms.

“Up, up, up. It’s almost noon. You’ve slept far too long.” Alexis opened the window letting fresh air flood the room that smelled of staleness.

“I was up late.” Madison complained still covering her face.

“Your point being?” Alexis leaned her head out the window staring up at the bright blue sky, cloudless for once. “Where is Tom?”

“Tom?” Madison asked sounding groggy.

“Yes. Tom as in Tom. The red breasted robin. He’s usually here by now. Tom!” She yelled out the window.

“Not so loud for goodness sake!” Madison harshly whispered at her. “Bates will hear you.” She hissed.

“Oh your ‘betrothed’” Alexis said the word sarcastically before continuing “...left with The Snake a few hours ago. We’re in the clear for all types of mischief and fun. Now seriously where is Tom. Tom!” She shouted out the window again. For such a small woman she could make so much noise.

“I can’t believe you named the bird Tom. It’s so generic. Why do you need him anyways?”

“What was I supposed to call him? Balthazar? I want to know where Bates has gone.”

“Why?”

“Because I have a scandalous idea that will get us both in some very deep shit. We’ll be fine as long as I can keep tabs on that idiot you’re supposed to marry.” Madison refrained from pointing out that Bates registered on the spectrum of genius because she’d called him worst names than that before.

Alexis was almost always too kind about him. She was too kind about anyone really. She was the only fae from her previous life that Bates had allowed to stay with Madison. Ripped from her village, her mother, and everything she knew Alexis had demanded to come with them. She was small but she was scary. Not willing to start a fight over something so petty Bates had allowed it. Alexis with her uncanny ability to talk to trees and birds came in handy. Not to mention she was Madison’s best and only friend.

“What idea is this?” Madison asked cautiously.

“Remember that beau you fell so hard for last night?” Alexis asked looking at Madison finally. She registered the fat lip she was sporting from The Snake’s hand but said nothing. “Oh don’t look at me like that. The elm on Main Street told me about it.” Madison rolled her eyes at Alexis but they both smiled.

“Yes, I remember. What about him?”

“He’s playing a concert today and we’re going.” Madison wanted to argue. So many words came to her mind but she couldn’t bring herself to say any of them. She desperately, oh so desperately, wanted to see him again.

“What’s the plan?”

“Oh girl you should know me by now, there’s no plan.” Alexis grinned with pure mischief burning in her eyes. Madison swallowed hard a ball of nervous energy having nothing to do with her husband finding out forming in her stomach. Still she didn’t argue as Alexis went to her large freestanding oak wardrobe and began throwing outfit choices on the bed.

OoOo

Staring down at his phone for the hundredth time he typed another text trying to sound cute instead of crazy and incomprehensible. He quickly deleted it and began texting again. Finally he sighed and leaned his head back against the wall he was sitting against. He gently bumped his head against the painted cement but his wild mane of hair absorbed most of the pain.

Why? Why couldn’t he come up with anything to say. His long legs cramped from being in the same position for so long. He stood and began to pace the hallway. The sound check had gone well and he was already pumped for the upcoming show.

They’d be letting the crowd in soon and already he could feel their energy like a low thrum through his body.

He wanted her.

He groaned and tore his hand through his curly hair. In this light it looked alight like a blazing fire. It matched the way his brain was burning searching fruitlessly for words.

He wrote songs. He was a king among thieves when it came to clever phrasing. Yet, he came up with nothing.

He thought again of his dream. Her sweet skin salty with sweat as he ran his tongue over it. The little gasps that escaped her with each thrust. He felt completely out of control inside of her. Like he would lose himself in her.

With another growl he typed furiously. His finger hovered over the send button. With a shaky breath he hit send and almost immediately flung his phone across the hallway. He refrained instead sitting once again, wrapping his long arms around his knees and resting his head on top.

OoOo

She glanced down at her phone and her heart leapt into her throat.

...Wasteland Baby, I’m playing a concert today, will you come?...

She knew who it was from even though she didn’t recognize the number. Madison typed back with vigor never hesitating.

...Oh baby, I will most definitely come...

OoOo

He took a deep breath and glanced at the text. He read over the words several times before smiling. He practically leapt up. He had a bounce to his step that he usual reserved for when they rocked out “Jackie and Wilson” in front of the crowd.

She’d come. Oh would she come.

OoOo

She escaped her gilded cage for a moment.

A modern Cinderella with wings.

The forest king awaited her arrival.

Unknown royalty among winglessly winged.

The glass slipper awaited to be shattered.

The bond grew.

As did the danger.

Such was the fate of the fae.

Pairing: Andrew Hozier-Byrne/Original Female Character

Genre: Fantasy, Modern, Romance, Smut, Fluff, Angst

Words: Chapter 11: 2,080 words

Summary: Andrew Hozier-Byrne unknowingly searches for the woman that pulled him from the bog 3,000 years ago. Unknown to either of them that in this modern world their souls are still intertwined from the life they shared long ago. She is unavailable, he’s not giving up. Will the woman that inspires his music be wooed by his songs or will he lose his chance? That’s Wasteland, Baby!

Note: A/N: This is a story requested by my best friend to be written about her favorite musician. I have been inspiried by his songs and specific lines. Any reference to his music is used in the name of inspiration and creating art. I do not own any of his music. Any reference to Hozier in this story is fictional and used by the author in the name of crafting art. I want to thank all who read it. I have fallen in love with writing this story and would love to hear from you. It will be written in installments. The finished story will be at the very least over 50,000 words. The next chapter will be explicit. That is not allowed on Tumblr so it will be posted on AO3 only. Please ask me for a link if you want to read it.

To Fall for the Fae: Chapter 11

The Forest Father came slowly to his senses as hands reached under his arms. He felt his body slowly being dragged through into or out of the woods he was still unsure. His eyes rolled into the back of his head and his stomach heaved. If he wasn’t dead and this was the less than impressive afterlife of the fae then he had a very bad concussion. He reckoned if he wasn’t dead he soon would be. He grasped a hand to his forehead too weak to fight whatever fate he was about to meet. His hand came away sticky. He looked up at it and it was silver wit blood. He registered the canopy of leaves above him even though his vision doubled then tripled as he did. He was still in the woods.

“Damn it.” He began to mumble but a hand clamped around his mouth and a voice shushed him.

“Be quiet, they’re probably still close by.” Willow Woman’s voice made him jerk from his dazed state and he tried to jerk out of her grasp. Still unsteady he did nothing more than flail like a fish. She sighed with a deep sound of exasperation but began to drag him again.

“You have to get out of here.”

“Shush. I already told you they could be close. The whole damn village is more than happy to let you bleed to death out in these woods. I’m the only one foolish enough to come in after you. It’s almost dark we need to get to the tree line.” He noted the way the shadows of the trees had grown tall since he had been out. She was right if nothing else he needed to get her out.

“Help me up you damnable woman. You ‘should’ have left me for dead.” He grumbled under her breath. He was pretty sure she heard as she jerked him to his feet a little rougher than necessary. She gave him a harsh look and he knew for certain that she had. If it had been any other situation he would have grinned at her. Now was not the time though. He took a few steps and stumbled. His vision was swimming as he tried to stand straight. He clutched an arm to his side where the beast had struck him. He at least had a few broken ribs from the force it had hit him with. They were built like tanks those monsters.

Willow Woman tucked an arm his waist and he leaned against her letting her lead I'm towards the tree line. They made slow progress as he tripped over every obstacle in his path including his own two feet. He wanted to scream in frustration. He contemplated shoving her away and telling her to go on her own. He knew his Madison though, she was stubborn, she wouldn’t go without him and he’d only succeed in shaving off a few minutes of the sunlight they had left to waste.

They broke the trees right as the last rays of sun left the cursed forest. Howls broke out behind them and they didn't stop to see if the Cuul had decided to follow them. What appeared to be the whole of the village stood a few paces away holding burning torches. It lit up their faces as they stared grimly past them at the forest behind.

“Were you successful?” The Elder asked in a voice that held too much hope for how little faith she held in her heart.

“I don’t know.” Andrew’s words were slurred as the adrenaline that had been driving him along since his waking, the intense desire to see Willow Woman safe, drained from him.

“Curse you mother. He’s hurt and you don’t give a damn. Leave all of you!” She shouted commanding the crowd that stood holding vigil for them. With faces etched with exhaustion the crowd began to disperse. They’d come at the request of the Elder when she had seen Madison running into the woods after Forest Father had yet to show when the sun began to set. None of them had been steadfast enough to brave the woods to find her. Instead they stood on the outskirts already planning her funeral.

“Willow Woman you are a fool chasing into the woods like that.”

“He knows my name mother you can drop my title.” The Elder looked genuinely shocked by the news but quickly composed herself.

“Fine Madison. That doesn’t change the fact that you could have been killed. I’ve allowed this...” she searched for the word she wanted. “...infatuation to go on so long as you remained safe. Now you’re putting your life on the line? For him? Are you planning to commit treason as well? Leave the clan. He can hardly take care of himself let alone you.”

“Mother, for the love of all things green please be quiet.” Andrew was fading in and out of the conversation but he was catching snatches of it and it did nothing to quell his fears he held over their relationship. Willow Woman was bound and determined to drag him half dead back to her cabin so she kept him on his feet though just barely as they trudged away from her mother and the cursed woods. No one had stuck around long enough to help her so she’d have to do it herself.

“You can’t do this Willow Woman!” Her mother cried to her as they gained enough distance that it was no longer safe for the Elder to use her common name.

“Damned if I do, damned if I don’t!” Madison called back over her shoulder without a glance back.

OoOo

He stood awkwardly inside the doorway scuffing one shoe against the other rubbing the back of his neck with his hand.

“Ehm...” He stated awkwardly unsure of what to do or say. It was ridiculous. He had bedded plenty of women. It wasn’t like he was some untapped virgin. Still he took a moment to try to breathe. This felt...different. There seemed to be a tenderness to their connection. Some type of deep meaning that he didn’t grasp yet. The way she looked at him he saw something stronger than lust. There was a depth to the way she looked at him. She looked at him like she’d known him far longer than a few nights. As if they had spent enough time talking to fill an entire lifetime. As if she knew his body like the back of her eyelids.

When he looked at her finally alone in that hotel room, no random onlookers, no restaurant goers, no fans, he could feel it too. An eerie sense of familiarity. He didn’t know her yet when his hazel eyes met hers like green gemstones he could feel a connection he had not felt. ‘Not in this lifetime’ that voice deep inside of him whispered.

“Ehm...” He mumbled again when the tension and intensity of her stare on him grew too great.

“Come here.” She spoke it softly. It wasn’t an order or a demand. It held the weight of a request. He obliged her coming closer to her that hand still rubbing at the back of is neck. She was tall enough that when he came to stand in front of her she could reach up and tug the hair tie out of his hair. The curls fell gently to his shoulders.

“Lie down on the bed. Please.” Her voice was so soft it almost had a dreamlike quality to it. There was no part of him body, mind, or soul that wanted to deny that request. He shrugged out of his denim jacket and laid down on his back staring up at her his hand clasped across his stomach. She took his hands gently and guided them to his sides. She gazed down at him with an adoration he had never seen in a woman’s face before. ‘If this is love...’ he thought absently but stopped before his mind could get the better of him.

“Did you want me to do...?” He trailed off as she silenced him with a soft flick of her hand. She was still gazing down at him.

“Shh. I want to see something.” She moved slowly to the bed not taking her eyes off of his face. That intensity hung between them but it didn’t crackle with electricity. Instead it flowed like a long winding river. From one of them to the other and back again. She came to lay beside him. He turned his head so that he could look at her. She held her head up with one hand resting against her face. She gave him a warm smile when their eyes met again. With a trembling hand she traced the plains of his face. Ran a finger down the middle of his forehead over the tip of his nose and over his lips. He kissed her finger gently as it passed his lips and her smile grew wider.

She stroked the side of his throat. Moved her fingertips to graze the hollow of his throat.

Oh god did it ache to touch him. Every emotion she had ever held for him came flooding back. Every aching bit of love she had locked deep within herself to keep from eating her alive in his absence broke free. The cage she held his memory inside of her shattered. The emotions threaten to overtake her. She leaned down and let her lips brush his featherlight.

She surprised him by laying her head down on his chest. Despite being an unexpected reaction he wrapped his arms around her. There was something so right about holding her in these poisoned arms. She stayed like that for several long minutes listening to the heart beating in his chest. The heartbeat she had not heard in this lifetime. He stroked his fingers through her hair needing no more than to feel her body against his. Finally she lifted her head and gazed down at him. That intensity began to build again as their eyes met. She kissed him again with just the slightest bit of pressure.

“Make love to me.” She whispered.

OoOo

The Snake trudged up and down the same bit of sidewalk for the twentieth time. Her scent ended here. It criss crossed the whole damn downtown like she was wandering around for hours. With how flighty she was it wouldn’t surprise me.

He smelled someone next to her. Someone...familiar. He couldn’t place the scent though. Not in his filing cabinet of scents from this lifetime. He cursed the loss of all the scents he had built up over all the years he’d hunted.

The street was abandoned at this hour and he was too angry at this point to care much who saw him as he leaned close to the sidewalk and took in a deep inhale. There she was...then a few inches later he couldn’t smell her at all. She smelled her companion, musky and spicy, clearly male and that familiarity annoyed him more.

He would not return to Bates without her. Especially now that he knew that she was off running around with another man. Let her explain that one. He was likely to get his head ripped off if he had to tell his master that. Kill the messenger his lord would. No let her take the fall for her sins.

He cursed. The scent went dead, covered up by the strong scent of her companion. He spit on the ground. Damn the man whoever he was. He motioned to car parked a few paces behind him with the lights still on illuminating the cold empty sidewalk The Snake was walking on. It drove up to meet him and he climbed into the backseat but not before surveying the street once more and spitting on the sidewalk when he didn’t find her hiding behind one of the street lamps watching him.

He’d been annoyed before. Now he was straight pissed. She better hope this man she was running round with killed her in a fit a passion because if he didn’t The Snake would do it in a far far less pleasant way. The promise to bring her home in one piece be damned.

OoOo

Saving her.

Saving him.

They were always saving each other.

In more ways than one.

Such was the fate of the fae.

Pairing: Andrew Hozier-Byrne/Unknown Female

Genre: Fantasy, Modern, Romance, Smut, Fluff, Angst

Words: Chapter 3: 1,681

Summary: Andrew Hozier-Byrne unknowingly searches for the woman that pulled him from the bog 3,000 years ago. Unknown to either of them that in this modern world their souls are still intertwined from the life they shared long ago. She is unavailable, he’s not giving up. Will the woman that inspires his music be wooed by his songs or will he lose his chance? That’s Wasteland, Baby!

Note: A/N: This is a story requested by my best friend to be written about her favorite musician. I have been inspiried by his songs and specific lines. Any reference to his music is used in the name of inspiration and creating art. I do not own any of his music. Any reference to Hozier in this story is fictional and used by the author in the name of crafting art. I want to thank all who read it. I have fallen in love with writing this story and would love to hear from you. It will be written in installments. The finished story will be at the very least over 50,000 words. Enjoy.

To Fall for the Fae: Chapter 3

The village had been fighting the beasts for a long time. They came from the woods dragging their hairy bodies through the dirt paths between the makeshift structures. They stole food, destroyed property, then eventually they began to kill. The tore into the skin of an unsuspecting fae. The taste of that pure silver blood drove the beasts nearly mad. They hunted then. Their twisted limbs moved them quicker than you would imagine. Hunting the fae became a sport. The village lived in constant fear.

A village elder, her face a mass of creases from years of smiles and laughter was now wroth with worry lines. Her forehead forever furrowed. She feared for her clan.

The forest father was the answer.

They had heard stories of him. The winglessly winged creature who sung in such an unearthly way that it quelled the wilderness that surrounded all of them.

It was rumored that half crazed he had run into the forest and in an act of mercy raised a heavy stone above his head and crashed it down upon the skull of a dying monster. Forever from then the forest respected him.

His voice soothed the trees, the animals, the strange monsters lurking within.

Three times the elder sent a messenger to fetch the forest father.

They begged. They pleaded. They didn’t dare demand.

Their numbers dwindled as the village was ravaged by these creatures rarely seen by others.

In a moment of desperation the elder left the terrified village herself her daughter in tow.

Her daughter was not a towering tree though neither was she small. Yet, when she stood her full length she looked like a pillar. She was her mother’s pride. He long locks running down her shoulders in dark waves. When she danced it was the dance of the forest. She called just as strongly to the trees as the forest father.

The elder hoped the forest father would sense that in her and find a kindred spirit. The elder felt guilty for using her daughter as bait but her village needed her.

They arrived at twilight at the steps of the forest father’s humble abode. They were greeted by the sweet twangs of a guitar. It was delicious music, like nectar to the soul.

Her daughter as if in a trance begin to follow the music as if her heart led her feet.

They found him on the back porch. Guitar in hand a thin stream of smoke coming from his mouth. His eyes were locked on the forest. His fingers moved nimbly. He was a sight to behold.

His eyes fell on the Elder first then as if involuntarily her daughter made the smallest of noises. His eyes moved to her.

He took a deep intake of breath as their eyes locked. Her daughter let out a little gasp. It was as if as one breathed in the other breathed out. They exchanged their breaths connecting on a level that was unrecognizable to the Elder.

This was the fate of the fate.

He said one sentence as his eyes never left her daughter’s face.

“I’ll come.”

OoOo

She was the answer to the call. She was what his soul called to. She was so close, a few feet away dancing slowly still to song after song. He body had energy to release and she did so with the move of her hip and each movement of her hands. She itched for a partner yet, she was alone but not lonely in her dance.

With each movement it was like a veil she held over herself dropped off. With each song she became herself more and more. She shed the armor that she had built around herself. Another song, another veil, another piece of armor gone. She slowly stood naked of the persona she put on for the people she cared little for.

He was entranced. She was...it. There was no better way to put it.

“Be still my foolish heart, don’t ruin this on me.” He breathed out.

“What?” Larry called over the noise of the bar. It snapped Andrew momentarily from the connection that he was sharing with her. He glanced at Larry feeling almost like dismissing him but his kind heart refused to allow him to do that.

“Nothing. Just talking to myself.”

“Is everything alright?” It was the second time today someone had asked that question. First the heartsick blonde that threw his hotel lamp at his head. Now Larry. He still wouldn’t know where to start. Something in him danced with joy. Another aspect of him was wary of this connection. What did it mean? Why did he feel like this was about to go very poorly?

His dreaming mind could stand it no longer. As if propelled from a push from some type of magic he was drawn to her like a magnet. He couldn’t have stopped his forward movement if he had even tried.

“Watch my drink.” He mumbled still moving zombie like towards her.

When he was close enough that he could reach out with his hand and brush those dark locks away from her forehead she finally looked up at him.

Her eyes were like emerald pools. A green like lush grass rolling over hills. He took a sharp intake of breath as they met his eyes. Piercing, staring into the dark empty part of his soul.

That look chilled him to the bone and at the same time his skin burst into flames.

He reached out a hand involuntarily. He didn’t know what to do, what it meant, what he had intended to do with this hand outstretched but he just needed to make contact.

She scrutinized his hand, rough with calluses. Tough from plucking out his music, her music, this beautiful creature rarely seen, on his guitar.

Then without a moment thought she took his hand and pulled him gently against her. He nearly stumbled as she did.

Then her back was against his chest. Her hips still moved in figure eights and he matched his movement to hers. They danced real slow. Almost to the point of standing still.

It was divine like sweet cherry wine.

In that moment he felt free. Free of the burden of bitter dissatisfaction he had carried for years. He took a deep shuddering breath as they danced. It was as if this was the first true deep breath he had ever taken.

The armor of his heart fell away. It made him feel naked and vulnerable.

He was scared. Then he was happy in a way he had never been.

Then like a flash from a different life hit him more powerful than he had ever felt.

A hot room. A small single bed that creaked with each movement as he drove into her. He buried his pillar of pride deep inside of her. Her eyes were glazed with the deep joy of love making. Her hand brushed his hair from his eyes but it simply fell back into place. Her skin was glossed in a sheen of sweat that he wanted to lick off. It would be sweeter than any sugar that had graced his tongue.

Her moans filled the tiny room as they rocked together beneath her cotton calico blanket. He groaned at the feel of her. He felt lonely when he pulled out and completely connected as her pushed into her.

She was the angel of small death and her cries of ecstasy filled the cabin loud enough to be heard by all the fae in the village.

He didn't care.

The forest father and the willow woman became one. The wilderness was soothed.

This was what the fae fate had in store for them.

He snapped out of it back into the present moment and shook his head. What had that been? He shook his head one more time his long hair gently caressing his face as he did. She didn’t seem to notice and he was glad of that.

When a song so slow that their dancing would have halted completely came on she turned slowly and wrapped her arms around her neck. She was unafraid of him. She was unaware of who he was. It was refreshing.

She demanded nothing of him. Simply wrapped her arms around his neck and looked deep into his eyes.

Andrew rested his hands on her waist ever so gently. Inside his mind he begged her silently to caress his face. To brush the tips of her fingers over his cheeks. To run her fingers through his tangled hair. She didn’t.

A silence stretched where one of them breathed then the other did.

Finally the angel spoke...

“My name is...”

“Madison.” He supplied before she even told him.

OoOo

Silver blood called to silver blood. Fae called to fae. She was a wingless angel of the small death. Controller of the willow tree that she so danced like.

He was the forest father. Capable of quelling any creature with his mere voice.

Over thousand of years. Over death, destruction, the fall and rise of humanity they had found each other.

They had no idea who they were. What they were. Why their blood called to each other. Why they were destined to be together.

They knew none of this. They knew not each other or the power crying within them.

When they made love or when they truly fucked the world would quake at the mere magnitude of the energy they created.

The lamps would be broken. Shattered to the floor as he drove into her over and over again. She would kick them, throw them, destroy them in her pleasure

She was his goddess unknown. She would rule him. He would dedicate his life to her. Worship at her altar.

He knew not of her power. He knew not of how she would destroy him.

She was a girl who danced away pain.

He hypnotized thousands with his voice.

They were meant for each other.

They were doomed.

Such is the fate of the Fae.

Pairing: Andrew Hozier-Byrne/Unknown Female

Genre: Fantasy, Modern, Romance, Smut, Fluff, Angst

Words: Chapter 2: 1,796

Summary: Andrew Hozier-Byrne unknowingly searches for the woman that pulled him from the bog 3,000 years ago. Unknown to either of them that in this modern world their souls are still intertwined from the life they shared long ago. She is unavailable, he’s not giving up. Will the woman that inspires his music be wooed by his songs or will he lose his chance? That’s Wasteland, Baby!

Note: A/N: This is a story requested by my best friend to be written about her favorite musician. I have been inspiried by his songs and specific lines. Any reference to his music is used in the name of inspiration and creating art. I do not own any of his music. Any reference to Hozier in this story is fictional and used by the author in the name of crafting art. I want to thank all who read it. I have fallen in love with writing this story and would love to hear from you. It will be written in installments. The finished story will be at the very least over 50,000 words. Enjoy.

To Fall for the Fae: Chapter 2

The bog was cold, dark, freezing, but oh so sweet. So beautiful to be in that delicious darkness after the red hot burning of the fever.

It had swallowed him whole. Body, heart, and soul. It owned him now. Completed him. His long limbs suspended in the soft sweet feel of mud and peat.

They laid him down into the earth that had greedily accepted him, little did they know that he had not been fully dead. His heart stuck in atrophy, paused for a moment. A breath between beats. Still they had packed him into that stiff box cut from the very trees he had loved.

They’d buried him alive.

They had not cared for him to continue living in the sinful life of drink. It had been a month he’d disappeared. A month they had waited for the father of the forest to return. To quell the wildness of the forest that ever threatened to consume them.

They had been wrathful when he’d appeared half dead, wild, scared and collapsed on the steps of the porch of his cabin. He mumbled something over and over again. Unable to calm him they’d placed him in bed. Watched him suffer. Then gave him as a ritual sacrifice to the very epicenter of the wilderness to keep it calm. To keep it quiet.

No longer did they need to fear what lay in there. The beasts that the forest father had seen, had killed, had lulled with his music. They had fed him to them. It was done.

It smelled of that sharp coolness of wet earth. It could not be explained, could not be described, it simply was.

His heart began to beat slowly, reluctantly. It hurt to feel the slow drumbeat in his chest. It ached, it yearned, it wanted her.

He’d rather it’d stayed paused.

The weight of the mud pushed on the lid of his simple coffin. It threatened to submerge him. Fill his nose and lungs with it. Line his teeth and lungs with it.

It wanted to consume him.

She wanted to save him.

Yet, still he waited alone.

A fleeting thought one of the few to cross his mind in this makeshift grave.

Oh to be alone with you.

Such was the fate of the fae.

OoOo

He’d never felt too good in crowds. They made him feel claustrophobic. Bodies pushing against him, sucking the sweet cool air from his lungs. It felt like the crowd was trying to overtake him. Consume him. There was a fleeting thought in his mind when they pressed against him. A thought like cool darkness overtaking his senses. It felt like his heart stopped as they tried to swallow him whole. It felt familiar though from when and where he didn’t know.

They played their music loud. They bayed like creatures along to it. Screaming out lyrics of hate and violence. It beat against his eardrums until he wanted to cover his ears to block out the sound.

He resisted the urge and pushed past another bar. Nameless, faceless he let his long legs lead him along the street as the man who identified himself as Larry led him to the bar.

Andrew almost turned back. Something in his conscious, his intuition told him that tonight something big would happen. He was too tired for big. Too sick of this world for his entire existence to rocked from it’s foundation.

The night crackled with electricity. It was ready. It was waiting. It wanted him.

Larry led him towards something monumental and more than once he stumbled as his feet wanted to turn and run.

Many a heart he had broken, never with clear intent to, but broken they had been none the less.

Yet, his heart remained pure. Hardened and turned black with the bitterness that consumed his soul whenever he thought of her and failed to find her. It beat on though, no cracks allowing what little light left inside of it to shine out.

It was armored. He wanted to keep it that way.

Larry approached a bar that was lightless, dark, dank. There was an air of cigarette smoke wafting from inside. The music was slow, sensual. The drumbeat matched his heart. It beat like the wings of a hummingbird.

He faltered at the entrance. The entrance to her. This bar. This bar that played the music of the winglessly winged creatures. They played the music of the Fae.

He felt powerless in that moment. There were moments when he stood on stage, his voice fiercely crying out the words to “Nina Cried Power” as the entire stage erupted in fire, where he felt invincible. Thousands of faces singing along, shouting those words, his words, her words. He conducted them but they met his music punch for punch with power. In those moments he was something else, something else.

Andrew couldn’t force his feet forward. Something was in there. Someone was in there.

For a moment his heart stopped. Just for one beat it ceased it’s movement.

“No.” He whispered under his breath. A beg. No. Don’t send me her. I am not ready yet. Not worthy yet.

His thinking mind couldn’t comprehend what was going on as he tried to force his feet into action. Into movement. Larry watched him quizzically.

Madison his subconscious cried like a battle song. It chanted her name over and over again. It could not stop.

He tried to turn on his heels and stalk back to the relative safety of his hotel room even the tiny bunks he shared with the rest of the band. Anywhere but here.

His subconscious screamed her name. Then it took it upon itself to propel his feet forward whether he wanted to go or not.

He walked woodenly into the bar his hands thrust into the pockets of his pants.

Andrew didn’t want to go. He wanted to go. He wanted to run. He wanted to tie himself to bar to keep from leaving. He didn’t want this. He needed this. He was desperate. He was desperate. He was desperate.

He took a seat at one of the few cliched stools at the bar. Ordered a whiskey, it was decent like Larry had promised, and lit a cigarette.

He drank his whiskey. He smoked. He waited.

Always he waited.

He knew better than to fuck with fate.

This was Wasteland, baby.

OoOo

He was several drinks in. Enough that he felt his world beginning to tilt. He could handle his whiskey, don’t get that wrong. Tonight though he wanted that tilt. He wanted to remove the fear he felt fluttering in his chest. Like a shrike trapped in his rib cage. Slowly eating him from the inside out. Thrusting him upon a thorn then ripping into his flesh.

His thoughts got darker the more he drank. Sometimes his best lyrics came when he was so deep into the swill that there was no pulling him out. Simply let him slowly claw his way out of the dark hole he’d dragged his limp body into.

Damn his thoughts were getting away from him.

Then the hair on the back of his neck stood on end.

Like a bolt of lightning coming down from the sky he was struck with electricity. His body lit up like the Vegas strip. Something was happening.

He didn’t feel sober but the world stopped spinning. It was like his senses were on overdrive. Sharpened.

He fought it as long as he could though he still didn’t know why. His rational mind could not comprehend all the things rushing through him. It didn’t understand what he was. What was hidden inside of him. Those wings that never unfurled. He saw himself as ordinary. It was only through the lens of his fans did he even being to comprehend that he was complete extraordinary.

He took his drink and spun around on the stool. He was too tired to fight with himself.

His eyes dry and red from too much nicotine. Too little sleep. Too much heartache looked with laser focus for what it was his brain wanted him to see.

He scanned the bar. His eyes falling on person after person.

He focused on the makeshift dance floor that was shrouded in a cloud of smoke. His eyes glanced through the men and women dancing oh so slow and sensual on the floor.

Then his eyes fell on something. Someone. A profile of a woman. Dancing real slow, all by herself, as if passing the time until her lover found her.

His heart stopped this time for more than a moment. It jerked. Spasmed. Then stopped.

Andrew took a stuttering breath trying to restart it and slowly it did. It beat until it was matching the movement of her hips.

She danced like a bird of paradise. She moved lithely like the bough of a willow tree.

Her dark brown tresses move hypnotically as she danced. Falling over one shoulder then the next. It looked like a wave of water. Rippling darkness.

Though she moved slowly he could sense in her something wild. Something feral.

This was a woman who could not be tamed. Not by anyone.

She could be loved, oh could she be loved.

No one would ever possess her though.

He wanted to love her.

He wanted to slam her against the wall and crash his mouth onto her.

He wanted to sink his teeth into her neck, biting and sucking gently until he left a mark on her. A love bite. Something that reminded everyone that she was his.

He wanted her.

He needed her.

“Madison” he called like a prayer but the word was swallowed up by the crowd and she didn’t hear him.

OoOo

A man tall as a tree sat hunched over a glass that his shaking hands held ever so delicately. If given another moment he would drop that cool smooth glass and it would shatter to the ground. Breaking into a million pieces. It was foreboding. It was the potential of what this beautiful creature rarely seen could do to him. To his heart of darkness.

She was oblivious to his plight. Oblivious to those around her. She moved her hips in figure eights, a dance of veils from long ago that no one could remember. She danced in a way that she had never been taught. A way that drew the men in around her. They kept their distance. She gave off a vibe, a deep one, that said no one can touch me, no one can know me, no one but him.

He looked at her and knew instantly that no one fucked with his baby.

His fate was sealed.

The fate of the Fae.