In the Land of Fae ♔ (gxg)

7. reign of terror

Nyx came to when she felt soft hands delicately grazing her forehead.

Letting out an incoherent groan, her eyelashes fanned as she opened her eyes, seeing a blurry, darker figure in the form of a face right in front of hers. Panic rising within her, she attempted to lift her upper body up from the ground which she was laying on.

"No, don't you get up," spoke a smooth, unfamiliar voice that sounded like whispers in her ear. A gentle, warm hand pressed against her shoulder, but Nyx forced herself to sit up anyways, an irritated huff coming from the person who retracted their hand.

Taking a deep breath that felt so refreshing, as if it were the first breath she ever took, Nyx opened her eyes fully and looked at the person before her.

It was a fae, which she wasn't surprised about at that point, kneeling to the side of her. This fae was nowhere near as terrifying as Al or Caspian. The fae was of tanner complexion, one of smooth caramel. Underneath her colorless brown eyes was a horizontally painted blue line, streaked right in line with her high cheekbones and mounting the bridge of her sharp nose. Her hair was a shiny, stark black that was so long it pooled around her at the ground she sat on.

The fae's wings were what attracted Nyx's eyes the most. They were not blue like Caspian's, nor black and red like Al's, nor dull brown like Erlin's, but they were of a vibrant rainbow so colorful that Nyx couldn't even recognize some shades of her feathers. Every feather was a different hue, no same color found in two feathers. The fae had a kindness about her eyes, her thin cupid lips resting in a dormant smile that appeared evergreen. She wore a tan leather cloth around her bosom that had braided leather strings dangling down above her naval, and a skirt of the same material that had more leather braids resting around her thighs.

"Don't try to run off, now," she spoke, her voice calm and endearing. "I already gave you one strip of this."

Glancing downwards, Nyx saw that the fae held a strip of green moss in one delicate hand, a small wooden bowl of water in the other.

"W-What is that?" the blonde asked, her voice dry and croaky. 

"Sphagnum moss," the fae answered, her pointed ears shifting back against her head as she stared down at the piece of grass. "It's winter, so this is the last bit of it. If you want that cut to heal, you'd better not rip it off this time." She returned her eyes to the girl in a look that asked for permission.

Nyx shifted her eyes between the moss and the fae reluctantly, but in those brown eyes that rested above the painted blue line, she saw trust and charity. Keeping her muscles tense and her mind on guard, she nodded her head downwards in obeisance and consent.

Smiling softly, the fae quickly dipped the piece of moss in the bowl of water and leaned forward, bringing it close to the girl's forehead. "Stay still."

Inhaling deeply, Nyx averted her eyes to her own legs, staring at the way her olive green dress sunk between the space of her aching knees. Shifting her eyes around her, she saw that they were sat beneath a large and looming willow tree, its long strands covered in white, beautiful snow. It seemed as if the willow had frozen over before it was given a chance to shed for the winter, its strands appearing to be long and thin icicles reaching from the tops of the tree and bending down towards the earth. An opening between the strands across from them told her how the fae was able to bring her underneath the protective tree.

Nyx flinched a little when she felt the cold and wet moss press against her wound. A few droplets of water slid down her temple but was quickly swiped away by the fae's hand. "There," she whispered, leaning away from the girl and looking between her golden eyes and the moss-covered wound.