I Can't Stay

He looked at Freya with a smile on his face as she circled around him fixing his posture. The kiss made him smile wider and even though he would've wanted to break the pose to give her a kiss he stayed still and let her finish her sculpting. He raised his brow slightly when she frowned hers but the following whistle made him laugh. "Once upon a time I always dreamed being the knight in the shining armor, going around saving ladies from dragons. But I've come to realise that's definitely for me, so I think we just have to keep it the way it is now - You're the knight and I'm the lady who needs saving."

"Sing me a tune?" he repeated and there definitely was a soft blush coloring his cheeks. Oh why couldn't he be the manly man, the knight who saves the day. He'd love to sweep her off her feet and make her sing a tune. Edmund frowned. Think, Edmund, think. The frown stayed, but a small smirk crawled on his lips and he looked at Freya again. He had read a lot of books about knights, he'd know what to do.

She watched his little show with a bemused smile, unable to stifle another laugh when things went south, glancing at him apologetically, "you almost had it." She assured him, taking the sword from him and holstering it in its sheath on her back again.

Titles, yes. Freya was... Hesitant, for many reasons. Reputation, politics, it was all so exhausting, and unfortunately in a place like Wisteria calling Eddie so much as her boyfriend could create ripples. She was a noble, by technicality, and Harland's standing made her associations something of note. Infuriating as it all was. Still, "do you want a title for this?" She used his hand in hers, lifting their joined arms to wrap his around her shoulders and cuddle into his side. "We could have one, even if it's a secret one- hell, people will figure us out anyway. I already hear staff at home talking to Harland about us spending all our time out in the garden together."

It seemed Freya was not too far off from a similar outburst.

“Poor darling, treated like a delicate dove or a useful dog by those around you… it sounds terrible.” Alekto tilted her head, the edge of sympathy in her voice genuine for once. “I spent two centuries under that yolk; I do not envy you. Shackles of that nature have a way of dragging one’s will into the mud. Makes it hard to see anything but the filth and mire. A shame, truly, you are far too good for such conditions.”

She wanted to knock out another of Phira Clove's teeth, remind Harland who his daughter really was. He'd tried hard enough just to stop her helping them through the tithe, and even after all that he wasn't convinced she was a warrior. Truthfully, setting things on fire was where she'd started. A bonfire in her bedroom, made of all the ridiculous shoes they'd tried to make her wear. So she wasn't sure how she could've made things clearer, but her father carried on regardless. Useful dog indeed.

She wanted to knock out another of Phira Clove's teeth, remind Harland who his daughter really was. He'd tried hard enough just to stop her helping them through the tithe, and even after all that he wasn't convinced she was a warrior. Truthfully, setting things on fire was where she'd started. A bonfire in her bedroom, made of all the ridiculous shoes they'd tried to make her wear. So she wasn't sure how she could've made things clearer, but her father carried on regardless. Useful dog indeed.

Edmund was done with his tasks for the day and as he had times in his hands he thought he'd go and see what Freya was up to - probably training as that's what she did most of the time, or at least it felt like that to Edmund. Edmund had already figured out Freya's favorite spots around the camp so it was surprisingly easy to find her now, just like right now.

He always seemed to find her just before her frustration boiled over enough for her to to something ridiculous. Perhaps that was a testament to how much time they spent together, or how much frustration there was in Freya's life. But things were simpler out here, where the petty drama of court life was as unimportant to everyone else as it was her.

She grinned across at Eddie as he so easily offered what she wanted, though... Yes, his stance was a little off. He wasn't trained, so, that wasn't a surprise. Freya managed to stifle her giggles and circled around behind him to re-adjust his arms a bit, wrapping her hands around his wrists to angle his wrists better. She angled her chin to kiss his cheek, then let him go, pivoting to look at him with her head tipped and brows furrowed. After a moment she deemed her work suitable and nodded, whistling softly. "I was right." She decided, "suits you. Perhaps in another life you can be the swordsman and I'll try my hand at the sentimental songbird type."

“Okay, yeah”, he replied while not really listening what she said. He just kept looking at her with that goofy and happy smile on his lips. if Freya wouldn’t have grabbed his hand Edmund might have stayed there just daydreaming, but the slight pull of his hand made him realise they were meant to go somewhere else than stand here waiting to get mugged again.

Freya managed to swallow a small chuckle and shook her head, pulling a smaller knife from her satchel to start slicing up an apple, sticking a piece onto the end of the blade and offering it over to Eddie. "don't worry about it, I had fun taking them down on my own. S'been too long since I had a proper fight."

Freya managed to swallow a small chuckle and shook her head, pulling a smaller knife from her satchel to start slicing up an apple, sticking a piece onto the end of the blade and offering it over to Eddie. "don't worry about it, I had fun taking them down on my own. S'been too long since I had a proper fight."

A hum escapes, and Robin shakes his head. “You do not think so because you do not wish to be soft, but you are. You are Wolf as much as you are Seelie, though one raised you where another learns you still. But you have your fathers roots.”

And it was true. Though Freya had grown so much since she had come here, since Robin himself had, Freya was still Freya. She was still a Wolf cub and a sapling, even if she did not believe it.

She had grown, but she was still two things in a single faerie trying to see where she fit.

A laugh escapes at the girl’s quick protest, but all Robin does is give her a sly look before turning back to their walk.

She narrows her eyes at Robin, sure he doesn't intend to let the topic of Edmund go so easily, too like Rye in that way, too interested in cracking her open.

She narrows her eyes at Robin, sure he doesn't intend to let the topic of Edmund go so easily, too like Rye in that way, too interested in cracking her open.

Edmund could feel how his ears started to burn and the kiss felt like it went on for hours, but at the same time it felt like it was over way too soon. Edmund knew he was blushing a lot, but he couldn’t help but smile when he noticed the grin on Freya’s lips. She looked so happy and seeing her happy made Edmund feel even happier. Seeing her grin like that was worth all the what-ifs Edmund had had going on in his head for a quite while now. It was definitely worth being brave for once.

He was a lot of things she didn’t know how to be, but he hadn’t known how to deal with the Fox clan, so maybe that was okay. He really might end up going into shock after an incident like that, so Freya did want to get them somewhere he’d be able to sit down. First though, she leaned up on her tip-toes to kiss him again, one hand curved around his neck while the other cupped his jaw. It lasted a bit longer this time, her breath a bit faster when she did pull away with a grin. ”…Right, we shouldn’t hang around here, they tend to keep to the same spots. “ She grabbed his hand, clearing her throat as she lead the two of them a bit futher into the trees, more vigilant now for anyone else who might be around.

There was little to do while they waited for attack, so Freya found a myriad of ways to entertain herself, training with the other fighters, actually helping the healers with their herb gathering and such, and often slipping away to the camp kitchens to go find Eddie. Other times he found her, like tonight, far away from the noise of the other fighers, practicing some sword work. She caught sight of him on his approach, playfully aiming the tip of the wepon towards him while he was still too far away to get hut, "I know you like your bow and arrow if you have to have a weapon, but you ever tried a sword?"

She had not heard much about Harland as of late. Part of her was curious about what happened at Thornhill. Briar was part of the Council of Elders, his decisions held political significance worthy of her attention, of course. But she’d begrudgingly saved that asshole’s life enough times over the past few years to be somewhat interested beyond the political as well. It was unlikely that Freya would give her that information, however. Still, it did make her curious.

It was quite true; Harland had been poisoned, and Balthazar had seen fit to call her brutal, a harsh thing to hear from someone who only hours ago had let her know that for all intents and purposes he and her father considered themselves engaged. Then she'd had to save Balthazar's stupid ass after he goes and gets blown up, dragging almost everyone she cared for into the process of healing a man she felt hated her but who kept insisting he cared.

It was quite true; Harland had been poisoned, and Balthazar had seen fit to call her brutal, a harsh thing to hear from someone who only hours ago had let her know that for all intents and purposes he and her father considered themselves engaged. Then she'd had to save Balthazar's stupid ass after he goes and gets blown up, dragging almost everyone she cared for into the process of healing a man she felt hated her but who kept insisting he cared.

“No, no,” Robin says, glamored face frowning, tucking his brown down toward his nose, wrinkling it. “Different. You look…happy. Sweet, like a tree.”

Like father, like daughter, yes. Both trees, both growing.

Strong, steady.

Briars.

“Busy? Yes, I suppose,” Robin agrees, nodding, but then he tilts his head, in that way of his, that he has, a sly little grin on his face. “And where has your music gone? Where is he? Shall I go find him?” Or anyone to be happy for, it was Freya. Edmund was a good faerie, kind and soft and sweet to temper her Wolf edge, the bite of her teeth. Robin knew, just as well, that Harland liked the skittish little bard as much as he was able, given that Edmund was courting his daughter.

So she'd been trying to be less so, for the sake of inspiring less negative reactions. And now she was sweet. And happy... Freya scowled across at him. "I am not sweet." She protested, not sure what to say on the rest, "...And you know how things have been, happy is hardly the emtion of the moment."

Happy was fleeting. Happy was the adrenaline of a face off with the foxes still coursing through her veins when Eddie kissed her.

Apparently Robin is thinking similarly enough, and Freya suddenly feels she is getting her retribution for prodding at Rye all those years to get with him. She smiles for a moment before it can be helped, then shakes her head. "He's not my anything." She protests, perhaps a bit too strongly, preying to celestials her cheeks aren't red, "and he could be anywhere. The Den, I'd suppose. Why go find him, am I not entertainment enough?" She hoped that would make for a good enough topic-- it wasn't as if Robin knew anything. Right?

So she'd been trying to be less so, for the sake of inspiring less negative reactions. And now she was sweet. And happy... Freya scowled across at him. "I am not sweet." She protested, not sure what to say on the rest, "...And you know how things have been, happy is hardly the emtion of the moment."

Happy was fleeting. Happy was the adrenaline of a face off with the foxes still coursing through her veins when Eddie kissed her.

Apparently Robin is thinking similarly enough, and Freya suddenly feels she is getting her retribution for prodding at Rye all those years to get with him. She smiles for a moment before it can be helped, then shakes her head. "He's not my anything." She protests, perhaps a bit too strongly, preying to celestials her cheeks aren't red, "and he could be anywhere. The Den, I'd suppose. Why go find him, am I not entertainment enough?" She hoped that would make for a good enough topic-- it wasn't as if Robin knew anything. Right?

But she was still there, he was still there, and things were okay again. The hand on his cheek felt warm and comforting and something about that touch made Edmund’s reality to drift away. He did see and hear Freya saying something, but he didn’t hear what she said, he could only see her eyes and hear his own voice telling him to do something he had never done before. He had to do it. Now.

She got the sense he hadn't done this a lot. That was fine, though, intuition and intent were what mattered most. His mouth was soft. There were some things you couldn't turn away from when you knew how they felt. What did it mean, then, that Freya had been clinging to Edmund since they met.

She didn't want to think about it. She wanted to kiss him again. Her face felt hot, and she was-- grinning, like a fool. Surely, Freya was supposed to say something now, but she had no idea what. "...Or we could, um- there's a clearing... S'got a creek." She cleared her throat, feeling strange and awkward and excited. It would probably still be a good idea for him to sit down for a minute, take a breath. And now she sort of felt like she wanted to, after that. "I could fix us something to eat, or..." Finally, she broke her gaze from his, still blushing. "Take a swim, find a nice tree branch to relax on. Kiss again."

She got the sense he hadn't done this a lot. That was fine, though, intuition and intent were what mattered most. His mouth was soft. There were some things you couldn't turn away from when you knew how they felt. What did it mean, then, that Freya had been clinging to Edmund since they met.

She didn't want to think about it. She wanted to kiss him again. Her face felt hot, and she was-- grinning, like a fool. Surely, Freya was supposed to say something now, but she had no idea what. "...Or we could, um- there's a clearing... S'got a creek." She cleared her throat, feeling strange and awkward and excited. It would probably still be a good idea for him to sit down for a minute, take a breath. And now she sort of felt like she wanted to, after that. "I could fix us something to eat, or..." Finally, she broke her gaze from his, still blushing. "Take a swim, find a nice tree branch to relax on. Kiss again."

She stuffed the jar back in her bag, watching Balthazar all the while. He didn't look good. He didn't sound good either, but at least he was talking slow enough that Freya had time to figure out what he meant. "Me? Very." She confirmed, already reaching to secure her cloak properly should she need to run suddenly.

Thornhill? He wanted to drag this production to Thornhill? Of course, that was classic. Welcoming himself into a home she already felt like a tresspasser in half the time to bleed all over the place. Or perhaps it was revenge, for Harland being similarly struck down and taking refuge in his den.

She hated this. She hated not knowing what was going on. She hated just having to rally like she was some soldier, with Balthazar barking orders like he had any right demanding she summon her friends. Her people. Rye certainly wouldn't show up at Thornhill for the simple reason that he was injured. It would be because Freya pleaded with them too, which she would, and she would hate it.

Freya wasn't expecting it when he grabbed her, and she caught herself before she could stumble into him. She wanted to scoff at the idea that she was suddenly important now- when had that ever been true? But there wasn't time. He just kept talking and he was scared and Freya didn't know what that meant because she didn't think he'd had that kind of emotion in him. She twisted a feather out of her hair and put it in Balthazar's uninjured hand, curling his fingers around it. "I'll be back." She promised softly, making sure he was as settled on the bench as he could be before she took off, weaving through the crowds and calling on a wolf to take her the rest of the way out to Balthazar's Den as soon as the streets were clear enough to do so. Reputation and propriety be damned on that front, even if it was all of her own recent work she would be undoing.

She stuffed the jar back in her bag, watching Balthazar all the while. He didn't look good. He didn't sound good either, but at least he was talking slow enough that Freya had time to figure out what he meant. "Me? Very." She confirmed, already reaching to secure her cloak properly should she need to run suddenly.

Thornhill? He wanted to drag this production to Thornhill? Of course, that was classic. Welcoming himself into a home she already felt like a tresspasser in half the time to bleed all over the place. Or perhaps it was revenge, for Harland being similarly struck down and taking refuge in his den.

She hated this. She hated not knowing what was going on. She hated just having to rally like she was some soldier, with Balthazar barking orders like he had any right demanding she summon her friends. Her people. Rye certainly wouldn't show up at Thornhill for the simple reason that he was injured. It would be because Freya pleaded with them too, which she would, and she would hate it.

Freya wasn't expecting it when he grabbed her, and she caught herself before she could stumble into him. She wanted to scoff at the idea that she was suddenly important now- when had that ever been true? But there wasn't time. He just kept talking and he was scared and Freya didn't know what that meant because she didn't think he'd had that kind of emotion in him. She twisted a feather out of her hair and put it in Balthazar's uninjured hand, curling his fingers around it. "I'll be back." She promised softly, making sure he was as settled on the bench as he could be before she took off, weaving through the crowds and calling on a wolf to take her the rest of the way out to Balthazar's Den as soon as the streets were clear enough to do so. Reputation and propriety be damned on that front, even if it was all of her own recent work she would be undoing.

With a Warrior by My Side | Freya and Edmund

Freya would rather solve things without weapons, to be perfectly honest. Without the finality of a blade. A good fist fight, a clear win. Who won if she had to threaten a life? But she would. For Eddie. For anyone else she cared about. Of course, most of them could handle a situation like this a bit better, but Freya wasn’t mad at him– Edmund’s softness was what made him so interesting to her. She couldn’t get up to save him; the bloke she had pinned was still conscious, simply defeated. So she grabbed a fistful of his hair and pulled, until he’d lifted his head enough for her to set her dagger up against his throat.

She stared down the Fox with Eddie’s wrist in their grip, not daring to risk sparing him a glance, because she might do something stupid. “What will you tell them when you return penniless and a man down?” Freya asked him, her Owain tongue still fluent and harsh as she made further threats. He spat back something about her having to get back without her pretty boy, and she watched him carefully. He wasn’t holding a weapon, but that didn’t mean he was unarmed.

Slowly, she reached for the coin pouch at her belt with her free hand, and tugged it free. “Let him go first.” She said, in common tongue this time. She’d concede the money, it didn’t matter. When his grip on Edmund’s wrist went slack, Freya whistled softly, giving a quick jerk of her head to bring him to her side. Once he’d moved she tossed the pouch off to the edge of the treeline and stood up. That released her prisoner obviously, but she held one arm out infront of Eddie to push him behind her a bit, dagger still gripped tight, and watched the pair of them pick up their buddy and the cash, vanishing into the forest. “Breathe.” She finally turned when the sound of their footfalls had faded, placing her hands on Eddie’s shoulders, eyes searching his face, “are you alright?”

Edmund could hear his own heartbeat in his ears, his palms felt sweaty yet cold. He stared at Freya as she spoke something, then glanced at the Fox who was holding his wrist, then at the person Freya held and then back to Freya. He had no idea what was happening and how this all would end. He could only hope everyone would get out of this unharmed - even the attackers.

She clung to him just as hard, her face buried in his neck as she swallowed down all the panic. He was okay and she was okay and the threat had run off now, more motivated by money than any desire to hurt the two of them. The adrenaline of it all still had her feeling tensed up, but she could just go for a run or something later and that would work off the extra energy well enough.