im·mor·tal

The hours had passed by slowly but surely today. Customers came and went as they pleased, and she offered her help when it was needed. Other than that, Brielle kept herself occupied around the store, shifting bits and pieces here and there, making a mental note of how much they had of this or that. Often, Bri found that once she got in the rhythm of things, time passed rather quickly, as though the clock was itching to reach her time to clock off. Today, however, the rain seemed to be beating its own tempo against the windows, and time within Maynooth’s walls was passing by at an excruciatingly slow rate.

Bri had lost count of how many times she’d dragged her gaze from the world outside their windows. Being in the present was becoming more and more of a chore now that she was spending so much time planning for the future. She had to work on that. A curious noise emerged from behind her, but the city was littered with those. It was only when quiet meows accompanied the noise that Bri turned where she stood, lips parting in surprise when she realised Romeo was laying comfortably in his usual spot. Glancing from the door back to the store’s own cat, she smiled a secret smile. Maybe it was some kind of cat love affair.

Her humanity got the best of her as it always did, though, and she was quick to open the door, glancing down at the animal in awe. Black cats were supposed to bring bad luck, but there was something so very human about its eyes that made Brielle feel as though the creature was more friend than foe. “Hey there, kitty. You not a fan of the rain?”

For a brief moment, Ember wasn’t sure if the woman could hear her but soon, she turned to the door. She once again scratched at the door, letting out a sad meow. Her nose told her about the presence of another cat in the shop but Ember wasn’t worried. Fond of most cats, Ember had long considered adopting a stray into her apartment before but with her responsibilities and job, she knew she wouldn’t be able to take care of any pet. She was too busy taking care of the fey in her court. It’d be a toss up to see how the other cat reacted to her, however. 

Still, true to the sweet nature the woman had displayed all day, it wasn’t long before she came over to open the door. At the chance she got, Ember dashed into the store and out of the rain. Trying to shake off the rain, she was shivering as she brushed against Brielle’s legs. Slender in her cat form, she looked smaller than ever and drenched to the bone. And fucking cold. Think of the fire at home, you can go back to that later. The shop’s earthy smell was almost overpowering for her sensitive nose but she continued to weave her way through the woman’s legs.

The giant tabby in the corner lifted his fluffy head to look at her and for a brief moment, she wondered if he was going to hiss at her. Things would go slightly sour if he did but instead, he merely put his head back on his paws and lazily blinked at her. 

“Born and raised,” Yvette said. She’d been given the family treatment several times, because both sides were proud, almost to the point of absurdity, of their long Manhattanite heritage. “I know I’m not necessarily what people expect. Are you?” 

She wished, desperately, that she could think of something more complex or striking to say. Yvette would like to impress this woman–she would like to impress a lot of people, as a matter of fact–but she had always been what she would consider a little bit scattered, and it had only worsened in recent days.  

“Ah … um, do you mind if I ask what it is you do?” Yvette asked, trying to keep some semblance of a balance in the conversation. “I’m in school, still. It’ll be a while before I’m free.” 

She laughed, trying to stay light and breezy. 

“Atta girl. New York pride.” Again she found herself raising her glass in appreciation. Her next question was strange but it caused her to chuckle, shaking her head. “No, I can’t say I’m what people expect.” She was an accident. “But then again, I find it better to be what people don’t expect. Makes that surprise all the more satisfying.”

Momentarily distracted by Mac’s return, Ember listed off the order. Her stomach rumbled with the displeasure of not being fed all day. “A plate of nachos and the wing sampler platter. Oh, and another drink for me.” She glanced at Yvette, gesturing slightly with her right hand and pushing the menu closer to her with the left. “Anything else, Yvette? Feel free.”  

Raven glanced over at Ember. The woman was considered the Seelie counterpart to Rowan, but he had no doubt that if it came down to the two of them, Ember wouldn’t last five minutes against his partner. He didn’t argue her point - there weren’t a lot of women lining up to lock him down, but he did just fine, thank you very much. 

“Your bitterness is showing, Ember. Biological clock ticking? Do you Seelie even have those anymore, I know you’re a dying breed. Thank fuck for that,” he replied, his voice mild. A hint of steel entered his tone as he continued, eyes going icy as he both corrected her casual use of Lacha’s name and dug at Adare’s past mistakes. “The Queen has more control than your king, that’s more his style. Nothing like a quick death to solve a problem, right?” 

As she always did when she came in contact with the Unseelie shadow, Ember found herself comparing him to Cobalt. And like she always did when she compared them - their appearances, their actions, their abilities, their nature - Ember found Raven sorely inferior to Cobalt in every way. 

“Me a mother?” She laughed, the sound loud and incredulous even as he meant the words to be biting. Her smile was sharp. “Oh no, motherhood isn’t for me. I’d hate to pass on any Unseelie blood.”  She raked her dark gaze up and down him, not bothering to hide her action. “Meanwhile you Unseelie continue to breed like cockroaches but then again...vermin always do.” His jab against Adare was uncreative, something she shrugged off with ease. It wasn’t the first time al Unseelie had thrown that out - they loved to gloat about  Fianait’s sacrifice like their own court wasn’t choking on blood. 

“Indeed, a quick death would solve our fire starter problem but alas, all we can do is hope you shadows can do your job and find the culprit. Would hate if they burned down the Rookery next.” 

“Oh, always.” Oleander’s tone was light and teasing – oblivious. “Don’t think I could do much to stop you from stealing a swig or five, if you set your mind to it.” With shadows dancing across the room, those ink-black eyes gazing down into her own were simply circumstance, a mere trick of the light. Nothing to pick apart and study.

Nothing to think about later.

“Are you now?” Her right brow quirked up, her half-moon smile a challenge of sorts. “C’mon,” she said, and a gentle hand reached out to poke with one finger at Ember’s shoulder: let’s get up from the floor. 

“I’ve got a robe, if you want one. And I’ll let you have the drink, no theft required.” Outside, the night hummed on, the very air itself heavy with a summer so ripe it seemed it might rot any day now. Troubling.

“Will you tell me what sent you scrambling out of my fireplace, or are we leaving that for the biography?” Her smile was still teasing, but it was warm – you don’t have to tell me, if you don’t want to.

Almost one could stop Ember once she put her mind to something with the exception being Adare and Cobalt. Adare held that ability with his position as her king - his word was law and she followed it as it had been ingrained in her since a child. She had been trained to never question, to only follow and that teaching was strengthened by the treason of her parents. With her bloodline, everyone expected her to prove them right and show disloyalty. 

Meanwhile, Cobalt held that ability with his position as her closest friend and partner. No one knew her like Cobalt did. He alone knew everything about her - every thought, every desire, every pain, every shame - and he stuck by her nonetheless. She could front to everyone but him and for that alone, he had the ability to reason with her, to talk her down. 

Ember pouted slightly as Oleander poked her but she rolled off the archfey. She immediately mourned the loss of the feeling of Oleander’s body against hers but she stood. Dark hair tumbling down her bare back, Ember stood in front of her in her underwear with no humility or embarrassment. She leaned against Oleander’s desk with the casual air of someone who hadn’t just exploded out of the fire. 

Barcelona was refreshing–it wasn’t New York City, it wasn’t Tara, it didn’t smell of magic or flowers or trash sitting out in the hot sun. Well, it did, in the same way all cities smelled of hot trash in the summer, but it was a different sort of trash. It wasn’t home, it was far away from Manhattan, and it was far away from the flood of attention Marigold was suddenly getting from the Seelie. It turned out not everyone treated a Lugnasad marriage as a fun temporary thing, just for the one night–she’d gotten a surprising number of congratulations texts and cards and even visits from fey who had stopped speaking to her twenty years prior. The baseborn twins were persona non grata until Marigold had become the Lugnasad bride for the Seelie. She wasn’t accustomed to this level of attention or respect–feigned or otherwise.

Ember had offered a trip, one they were long overdue for, and Marigold accepted almost before her friend had finished her sentence. Anywhere. A bottle of wine and her best friend, someone she could confide in about how confusing all of this was.

“Lingerie?!” Marigold appeared in the door to the bathroom, looking horrified and amused. “Tell me you didn’t buy me bridal lingerie, Ember.” She knew the answer already.

Marigold’s panicked reaction caused Ember’s face to split into a wider grin. “Lingerie!” She confirmed, nodding enthusiastically. In fact, one of the smaller suitcases Ember had brought was stuffed to the brim with lingerie she’d bought for Marigold. However, she’d already made the decision to not show them to Marigold until the fey had a few drinks in her. “If I said that, I’d be lying Marigold and we both know that’s impossible.” Grinning toothily at her, she took a few steps forward. 

“I won’t make you try them on for me because one, I already know you’re going to look hot as fuck in them and two, I’ll save you the embarrassment until we’re both good and plastered later.” She paused. “Then, I might ask but you know drunk Ember, if she does that, just throw a shoe at her or distract her with wine.” 

Fuck, it’s cold. Crouched low in her cat form, Ember could feel the rain seeping in through her fur coat. Despite the shivers wracking her lithe, little body, she fixed her gaze on the glass door of Maynooth. The guardian had turned down all her invitations for the night with the intent to work and checking out the little cult shop had been first thing on her list. She’d been there when Marigold had wandered in all those months ago, perpetually keeping an eye on her friend but now she was alone. She could conduct her own investigation and report back to Adare. For all their eccentricities and fervor, Ember doubted Clann Nuadha’s role in the recent fey killings but she wasn’t about to write them off without investigating.  

Through the glass, she could see the shop girl bustling around inside. The last customer had left only a few minutes ago, giving the girl a friendly goodbye before hurrying through the rain. Ember watched his form disappear in the distance before she slid out from underneath a mailbox. Grumbling inwardly at the fat raindrop that landed smack dab on her head between her ears, she slunk toward the door. She caught sight of her soaked reflection, yellow eyes staring back at her. Rearing up on her hind legs, Ember started to scratch at the glass repeatedly, a series of sad meows coming from her mouth.

Their easy conversation brought a smile to Willow’s face that was lighter than it had been in a long time. Outside of the bubble of rebellion, heartbreak and secrets, it was easier remembering how to simply, be. It was one of Ember’s greatest gift - and she would never know it. Returning her playfulness with their own, Willow smiled, letting their bag fall to their feet. “Maybe I should start keeping a tally, over the next century, I could definitely cash in on a lot.”

Nodding her appreciation at Ember, Willow leaned forward, briefly scanning the menu. “The House White please.” They hadn’t arrived intending to drink. But Willow wasn’t about to mix business with pleasure, not where Ember was concerned. She was family. And you made time for that, no matter the extenuating circumstances, no matter how hectic your life was. Shifting to face her, Willow sighed. “It feels like forever since I’ve seen you.” Spreading their fingers flat across the bar, Willow eased slightly, relaxing into the moment. “Has it been all work and no play?”

“Please don’t.” Ember groaned, fixing Willow with a pleading look. “I already owe Cobalt for stealing his drinks when he’s not looking and I really can’t be in debt to the both of you. I’d never hear the end of it at your dinners.” Despite her words, Ember already knew she was in debt to the pair. They were the family she had never been allowed - the relief and peace that had escaped her as a child. The mere sight of Willow’s smile spread a warmth through her, the feeling more comfortable and soothing than any hot bath she could have taken. 

Yvette nodded. Em was the name of high school classmates and volunteer group leaders and at least two cousins–Emily and Emma, standing on opposite sides of the chasm that divided her family. This Em was an entirely different kind of person. Yvette could not imagine receiving an informational packet from her. And even though Yvette was a good ways toward thinking of herself mentally as taken, she still blushed. 

“I … I was thinking I’d get the wings,” Yvette said. “I like all the sauces, really–I like spicy things and not spicy things–so you could choose, if you wanted. Ah–are you celebrating?”

Ember’s eyes followed the trail of red along Yvette’s cheeks as the blush spread over her face. The guardian couldn’t remember the last time anyone had caused her to blush. Perhaps when she had been a child, she might have blushed fondly at Adare’s gentle teasings but more often than naught, it was the other fey children that caused her to flush with humiliation. When she had started to develop, growing into her mother’s striking features, she begun receiving inappropriate comments that had caused shame to bloom in her cheeks. A young filly that needed to be broken. Unseelie girls are up for anything. Your mother put out, why won’t you? Her ears had burned with their words but she had hardened herself against their comments. Now, no one talked to her like that. She made sure.

“Spicy things it is then.” Ember replied cheerily, tracing a long finger across the condensation on her glass. A soft chuckle escaped her at Yvette’s question. “I wouldn’t say that. I just think it’s time I treat myself. I’ve been working hard so why not?” She picked up her glass and raised it toward the human. “But, I could celebrate...to meeting new people, right? You never know what New York will bring to you.” 

“Well, you did learn a few things from the best.” He winked and took a bite of his own ice cream. The main difference between the two of them, however, was Adare’s penchant for simply treating himself whenever he chose and often regardless of his behavior. Long before he had had children of his own and Ember had been but a child faced with the burden of her mother’s actions, she had been something of a pseudo-daughter to him. Occasionally doted upon, raised Seelie in full       as if her mother’s indiscretion with an Unseelie was a non-factor. It was Ember, more often than not, who accompanied Adare to whatever social functions he attended. She seemed to enjoy the atmosphere and thrived on the energy in much the same ways that he did. 

At the end of the day, Adare liked her company and, above all, he trusted her. 

“Earlier this year, you remember I asked you about Cobalt’s desire to be a father.” He’d already known of Willow’s at the time. And now, months later, he felt that he had enough of a grasp on their current standing. Still dissatisfied with his efforts because she hadn’t been impregnated with a goddess   blessed miracle baby. He rolled his eyes behind his sunglasses and took another bite of ice cream before looking to Ember. “I asked because Willow had made it clear to me that she wanted one while also making some slight noise about being dissatisfied with the Court’s state of affairs. After Fidchell, I’m not entirely certain that they might not take inspiration from what the Unseelie did.”

Her response to his wink was a quick grin, a bolt of familiarity rushing through her. Once upon a time, he’d been one of the only things standing between Ember and the unforgiving cruelty of Seelie custom - certainly the most effective. He’d done his best to ignore her mother’s crimes, one of the few who had treated her like the child she could have been instead of the burden she was. Ember had run to him time and time again, hiding within his quiet kindness but he was also a king. At the end of the day, kings had more on their plate than waifs. When she was old enough to know how to, she’d started glamouring the tear tracks on her face, masking the shaky uncertainty of her voice. Ember refused to be a burden for much longer, desiring above all else to prove herself to a court she loved that would never love her back. Not in the way it praised Garnet or commended Willow or admired Oleander. Her hands were stained red so the court could stay gold. 

“I hate to continue to inflate your ego but it’s true.” She sighed, dramatically before taking a bite of her ice cream. Luckily for her, this choice also gave her moment as he asked about Cobalt. Briefly, her pulse sped up but she swallowed, licking the taste from her lips. While he spoke, she listened intently, absorbing everything that he was telling her. Ember would be lying if she said she didn’t know Willow was unhappy but rebellion? If there was one thing Willow was not, it was impulsive but that meant if Willow was part of an uprising, there was no way they’d be part of a poorly planned one. t“Willow isn’t a hothead, luckily.” She mused. “If they’re unhappy, I think they’d want to do the most rational route and that doesn’t involve going against the court and Cobalt.” Ember kept her expression honest and genuine despite her own questions. “And, if there is one person I have the utmost faith in, it’s Cobalt. The court has never known a better, more loyal guardian.”

With the windows ajar, she could hear the fleeting sounds of music, the soft lull of conversation: her tower was a darkened lighthouse, the flickering light from her hearth gleaming through the windowpanes every so often. It was an old habit, keeping the fire fed. She could use a candle, if she so wished – and with the warmth of the Summer Court, it might even have been preferable – but Oleander had always enjoyed the company of her fireplace. She enjoyed the heat of it, the crackle of wood breaking apart into coal and ash. Tonight, it smelled like bergamot, the firewood a present from one of her students – Datura.

She was half-crouched by the flames, still, though she’d already sent her thank-you to Datura – and there was that familiar shadow, the fire rippling as Ember stepped through it, too quick for Oleander to move out of the way.

Her back hit the floor, Oleander’s dark curls splayed out like the halo of a saint, and above her loomed Ember, half-dressed, one leg between Oleander’s own; the fire’s glow shimmering across the Guardian’s cheekbones, her shoulder, the dark river of her hair. It favours her, Oleander thought, as fire should an ember.

“Ember,” Oleander said, and she couldn’t help the smile that rose, her lips – for once – not dark, just pink. Her voice curled with friendly laughter, low and private. “What a lovely surprise you make. Come to steal my whiskey?”

She was breathless as she knocked into Oleander, sending them tumbling. Dazed, she hovered over the archfey, long hair creating a curtain for them. With one leg between Oleander’s and a forearm on either side of her face, temptation had never reared its sinful head like this before. She had never seen the older fey like this - doubted that only those usually selected did. 

Get off of her. She reprimanded herself but Oleander seemed perfectly fine to have the guardian’s half naked body trapping her against the floor. Then again, this was Oleander and there was no doubt she might have ended up in stranger situations before. Still, Ember’s gaze was drawn to her mouth, warmth in her belly at the sight of her pink, parted lips slipping into a smile. Ember knew she was never going to be able to get this picture out of her head now that she had it. 

“Come to steal more if you’ve let me.” The words slipped out before she could help them, voice throatier than she meant. Just a few inches from her fingers was one of Oleander’s curls. If she just stretched out her fingers a little...