Hell's Book of Random One-shots

We, The Fallen - Prince Nuada - Hellboy - Request

The pain that wracked your body upon waking was unbearable.

Parts of you that you didn't know existed screamed with pain with the slightest movement.

Your eyes were bleary and blinking did nothing but make them worse, along with sending throbbing shots of a pain through your temples around into the back of your head.

There were faint sounds going on around you, mostly what sounded like pages fluttering and scuffs of fabric with the occasional tinker of glass or ceramic.

You shifted again, hissing in pain.

That didn't deter you and you continued to try and roll from your back to your front, one hand reaching above your head until it eventually became too much and you dropped down with a yell of frustrated pain.

"Ah, I see that you're awake."

Your head shot up and fireworks erupted behind your eyes.

With another yelp, your hands came to cradle your head as you cowered.

The sound of footsteps crossed the room and drew closer, boots scuffing against stone.

"Please, relax," the voice soothed softly, the accent smooth and pleasant. "You are a long way from being fit to move."

A small whimper left you, your ability to talk completely ripped from you as the pain wracked through you.

"It seems you aren't ready," they said with a sigh, a hand suddenly pressing to the top of your head. "It's best I put you back to sleep for a while longer, my efforts were for nought as of now."

You weren't sure what was happening and still couldn't see, but lethargy soon took over and you were asleep again before you could register a thing.

---

You're not sure how much time has passed when you next wake, though you can tell that it's late into the night with how dark it is.

The intense pain you vaguely remember is long gone, replaced mostly by a constant dull aching.

At least now you could move and get comfortable.

You were lying on your front, bandages wrapped around your chest and a weight pulled down on either side of you.

After gathering your bearings you pushed yourself up, pulling your shoulders back to stretch out a tension that strained your muscles.

Looking over your shoulder, you confirmed with a sad stomach drop that your suspicions had been right.

Spread out wide on either side of you, draping to the floor over the edges of the bed with a dead weight were your wings.

The once elegant feathers were now patchy and charred, the floor was littered with the ones that had fallen during your rest and the seven embedded eyes on either side were closed and looked crisp to the touch.

They were numb and immobile, you couldn't even conjure a twitch at the ends.

They simply hung there, useless, like the clipped wings of a dove.

As you stared at the ends of your once beautiful wings, you lost all numbness in your emotions and broke down.

You weren't sure how long you had been crying when the sound of footsteps invaded the silence that had only been broken by your sniffles and sobs.

"I am terribly sorry," said the smooth voice that you vaguely recalled from before, "I tried my best, but there was nothing I could do without you being awake to answer some questions that would aid me."

Wiping at your eyes, you tried in vain to stop the crying and rubbed away the bleariness that had built up from the tears and your time asleep.

At your bedside stood a man of bewitching beauty.

Even in the limited light of the candle he had in his hand and the moon that was shining through a window above the bed.

Moonlight caught his hair and shone it white.

His chest was exposed and skin seemed whiter than his hair but you couldn't fully tell if that was a trick of the light mixing with the shadows and the darkness of his lips and eyes that made it stand out more.

"An elf," you gasped, staring in awe.

"That I am, as you are an angel."

"I am," you nodded slowly before your eyes dropping back to the bed. "Or at least I was, I am not much of one without my wings."

"We all have self affirming shortcomings."

He leaned over and grabbed a short, wooden stool that sat beside the head of the bed and nestled himself beside you, just above where your wing lay dormant.

"I hope you don't mind if I take a look," he said, indicating to your wing.

"It's late," you said softly, unable to meet his eye. "Wouldn't you rather be sleeping?"

"Don't fret about that, I have slept plenty."

With a surprising gentleness, reached towards the edge of your wing closest to your shoulder and ran is fingers along the bone.

Feathers ruffled and fell to the floor as his fingertips brushed over them and you could feel a burning as he manipulated the muscles in different ways.

"Can you feel that?" He asked softly, looking to you.

You met his eyes, unable to see any colour in the darkness and nodded, trying not to feel intimidated by his mere presence.

"I can, it hurts."

"But you have sensation?"

"I do."

"Excellent, perhaps they aren't completely irreparable."

He carefully set your wing back down.

"Tell me, how do you feel?"

You frowned in thought, stretching your neck from side to side to work out some kinks that were pulling on your muscles.

"Tired," you mumbled, "lost, confused..."

"Of course, I shall explain everything once you have rested properly."

You rested your head on your arms, your eyes already feeling heavy.

"I feel like I've rested enough."

"Not naturally you haven't, your body took a lot of energy to heal while you were out so it comes as no surprise that you would be exhausted."

"Am I taking your bed?"

"You are, but we won't concern ourselves with that, you need it more than I do."

You smiled faintly, struggling to keep your eyes open while the effort made his already mostly hidden face swim in and out of focus.

"Can I at least get a name?" You asked softly.

"You may, I am Nuada."

You hummed softly, nuzzling your head into your arms as you returned the favour and offered him your name.

"It is a pleasure to help you," he said, "and I can promise that I will make you fly again."