Chapter Text
The first thing the slavers took was his engagement ring.
Arabel had been her name. A gentle heron much like himself. Rafiel hadn’t ever sought for marriage in Serenes, but as crown prince it had always been a looming expectation. His father had introduced the two after a series of rejections on Rafiel’s part. Beyond the royal family, Serenes didn’t possess a system in the vein of nobility. Yet still, most common herons wouldn’t deny the chance to marry into the royals that guarded the forest with their most powerful, beautiful music. Rafiel himself had always been well loved by his people as he walked among them, so it wasn’t a surprise that the first few suitors he had met had seemed all too keen. Yet, Rafiel had been… intimidated by their forward proposals of marriage on the first meeting. Not to mention the immediate clashes in personality from these propositions. It was true that most herons were more like him, but that didn’t mean his entire people were a monolith - and some possessed a rather confident streak within their forest home. He chuckled awkwardly to himself after politely rejecting the last suitor, the heron merely shrugging her shoulders in mild disappointment as she gave a smile and a bow before flying away. He couldn’t imagine marrying someone so brash, so different from himself.
His meetings with Arabel had been slightly more natural. Slightly. His father had introduced her as a ‘kind friend,’ though Rafiel wasn’t blind to his hopes for more. Still, he had obliged to spend the day with her, just a simple flight across Serenes to help feed some of their fellow creatures. Rafiel landed in heron form on the water and saw how the fish in the lake dispersed with his presence. He heard Arabel behind him give a gentle laugh as she detransformed and sat on the edge, her brown wings outstretched behind her. Rafiel, perched on the nearby rock and detransformed himself, attempting to beckon the creatures in the water back to him. He sprinkled some of the food they had brought into the water, and slowly they returned. As he placed his hand in the water, as if to offer his warmth to the tiny creatures as they seemed much more comfortable, Arabel approached him from behind, sitting beside him as she watched the fish eat.
“You would think they would be used to you by now.”
“We may have sworn never to harm our fellow creatures, but they may not know that. Regardless, it remains our duty to make sure they know they are cared for.” He watched the fish swim around as if in glee around Rafiel’s hand. Arabel smiled at his serene expression.
“They like you.”
“It seems they do.”
Arabel hesitantly dipped her own hand into the water. “Can I confess something?” she asked with a nervous grin.
Rafiel was hesitant to answer. “…Anything.”
She giggled. “Fish have always creeped me out for some reason. They’re so cute, look how they swim around with such natural ease - they make the water seem so lively. But when I get close…” She removed her hand from the water. “I feel like they’ll bite.”
“I think it’s the fish who are afraid…” said Rafiel, removing his own hand from the water. “When all they can see is our hazy figures above the surface, they may see monsters ready to pounce and devour them whole. Even if they have nothing to fear in Serenes.”
“I suppose you’re right… Well, if you’ll have me, I’ll be happy to tend to the fish again. Maybe I’ll get over my fear.” She laughed. “If that’s even possible for me.”
Rafiel chuckled in turn. “Maybe.”
Lorazieh asked him after a few weeks if things were going well, and Rafiel could tell that he wanted to know if it was a ‘yes’ or ‘no.’ It was difficult. Arabel was kind to him, a good friend. They enjoyed their times together, their days spent caring for the wildlife of the forest, their duets when she would insist her voice paled in comparison to his. It wasn’t love, no. He knew the ways Leanne would blush at Naesala when he came to visit, how he could feel the beats of her and Reyson’s hearts break into a sprint in his presence. When he opened his heart, he knew what love was meant to feel like. Would he ever have anything better? Would he ever feel anything like that?
He had nonetheless discarded his conflicted feelings aside. “…Yes. It is going well…”
The two had a small engagement ceremony over a light meal a few weeks later. Arabel had seemed just as nervous as he was, but she accepted Lorazieh’s gift of a pair of rings with a smile. She and Rafiel took a quick flight together above the forest after he had left. He felt like he should have taken her hand as he observed his own, the silver ring on his finger gleaming in the sun.
“…Are you happy?”
Rafiel’s thoughts were broken by Arabel’s voice as his eyes shot up to face her. He gave a nod, perhaps a little too quickly. “Yes. I… I will be happy to marry a friend like you.”
Arabel averted her eyes. “…Me too, I suppose…” The two descended as they both sensed the restraint of the other, their feet softly touching down on the ground. Arabel stood, her back to Rafiel. “I do… I really like you, Rafiel. I wanted to meet you for such a long time…”
“O-oh…” Rafiel scratched at the back of his hand with nerves.
“But…” Arabel buried her head in her hands. “I don’t know… You’re amazing, and I love our time together, but I just don’t know if this is right.”
Rafiel placed a hand on her shoulder, causing the shorter heron to turn to face him. He quickly enveloped her into a hug. “I… I’m sorry that I feel the same. But… I think we can be happy together.”
Arabel gave a tearful, nervous nod. “Yes… I think so too…”
He didn’t realise how much he had missed the gentle touch of his fellow heron. After all, the hands of beorc had not nearly been as kind.
As he lay in bed one night, staring out of his window at the stars of Hatari, he suddenly came over with a sudden wave of fear and guilt. Arabel… He had been drowning in grief for the lives of his family that he had naught to consider for the lives of his people. The individuals that lived in Serenes who loved the royals that watched over them. His friends. His fiancée. He felt the pain of his ring being torn from his finger once more, the humans laughing as they pulled his frail body away. He imagined his people had felt even greater pain during the massacre.
Nailah had heard his shrieks and sobs from the next room, bursting in through the door to see the heron in such a frenzied state. Detransforming from her wolf form, she slowly came over to his side and knelt down. She offered her hand, reluctant to initiate physical comfort without the fragile heron’s permission, but Rafiel obliged as he curled into her side and cried into her chest. He couldn’t help himself, even if he knew he couldn’t do this all over again.
After all, he knew the strings that came with a saviour’s mercy.
He couldn’t make the mistake again of trusting his own instincts. Though he sensed the caring nature in Nailah’s heart, he had been fooled before. Fooled by the trickling drops of sympathy and guilt that seeped into his own heart, by the gentle, cold hands that would guide him to eat. True, Nailah was much different. She wore her heart on her sleeve and her emotions on her face, and if she possessed a façade Rafiel couldn’t sense it. Still, he didn’t need to see her fight to recognise her strength. She could overpower him at any time, should he choose to disobey.
Nailah was no heron, but she could still sense his lingering fears. She had tried to make herself more approachable, dressing down from her regalia when she would visit to tend to his bedside. She had finally gotten the heron diet memorised, and could easily prepare a wide variety of delicious meals that Rafiel could safely consume. She supposed it to be a good thing that she gave every plate a Hatari-flavoured twist. She didn’t know how he’d feel to taste the lost delicacies of home.
The next morning, she came in to see Rafiel sat upright in bed, fidgeting with his hands.
“You okay?” she asked as casually as possible.
“I am. Please, there is no cause for worry.”
Nailah gave a small ‘hmph,’ before perching herself on the end of his bed. “Do you like the view?”
“Hm?” Rafiel met her eyes, before quickly gazing out of the window next to him. “Yes. It’s nice. I can see the streets of the city from here.”
“Like what you see?”
Rafiel paused. “It was strange to see so many beorc at first, but I see how they inhabit this land alongside their fellow laguz in peace… Well, I suppose it is still a little strange…”
“It’s my duty to make sure my people live in harmony. That includes you. Should you wish to explore the land once you have recovered enough, I’ll be happy to join you.”
“You will… accompany me?”
Nailah could sense his hesitancy. “I’m not a guard dog. I just want to make sure you stay safe.” Nailah didn’t mention that having the sole avian laguz of Hatari wander the streets alone frightened her slightly. Not that her people as a collective would hurt him. Still, people feared the unknown – it was as true in Hatari as it was in Tellius. And if Rafiel was here to stay, it was her job to make them get used to it. Having him up and about would be a good thing for all of them. “Once you’ve done it a few times, you can go alone. But I think you’d agree that for the first few times, you should be with me.”
“Be with you…” Rafiel seemed deep in thought, and Nailah didn’t wish to interrupt him. “…What do you want from this? From me?”
“Hm?”
“Why are you doing all this? Nursing me back to health and taking me around your country.” He looked at her with perhaps a little fear in his eyes, but tried to stay firm and confident. “What do you expect me to do?”
Nailah met his eyes with a matching firm gaze. She spoke clearly, not a command, but merely a statement of truth. “Whatever you wish.”
Rafiel still looked uncertain. “Do you really mean that?”
“If you wish to stay, you’ll stay. If you wish to leave, you’ll leave. My only wish is that you’ll at least complete your recovery first. For your own sake.”
“I see…” He paused before looking to her once more. “May I have some time to myself?”
Nailah didn’t hesitate. “But of course.” And so, she stood and left, closing the door behind her with a soft smile directed to the heron. As for Rafiel, he sat upright in silence for a few moments more, before pushing himself up to stand from his bedsheets to see if he had the strength to walk.
*
She didn’t know whether she should do this in wolf-form, but Nailah figured it wouldn’t be great to scare Rafiel more than he already was.
He had changed into something more suitable for walking the streets than remaining bedbound, though he hardly felt comfortable wearing the standard clothing styles of Hatari. Instead, Nailah had examined the robes he had arrived in and sent some drawings off to a local tailor. “Give me five like this. Be free with each variant, but make sure the style stays the same,” she had said, wanting the heron to have plenty of options that he felt at ease in. Indeed, Rafiel had been thankful for her consideration. Though the texture of Hatari fabrics would be difficult to get used to for a while, he was grateful to wear something that made him feel like himself. Like he was home. Though he would stick out like a sore thumb among the loose fashions suited for the heat, he had never felt more invisible. Juts the way he liked it.
Though that feeling changed as Nailah led him by the hand through the bustling market, sellers and customers alike balking at the sight of his white wings. Some looked as though they would approach Nailah with questions, but it seemed they were too nervous to do so.
“You have no need to worry,” said Nailah. “My people are curious, but they know you are under my protection. They won’t lay a hand on you.”
“Mm,” Rafiel said. That was a lie, for he could feel a small tug on his wing from behind. It was only a child though, so he didn’t mind.
A Branded child.
He looked behind to see the girl’s parents rush forward to pull her back, apologising profusely to the bird before them. He looked to the father, whose wolf’s tail swung behind him. Could he still transform, perhaps?
As he followed Nailah once more, the queen began to speak. “I know you mentioned the Gifted of your land to be unusual. That is not the case here.” She had clearly noticed his curious gazes towards the father. “That man indeed can no longer transform.”
“But… why? Why would he give that up?”
“Not everyone wishes to do so. It is common in Hatari adopt for that reason. It’s the laguz’s choice after all to make such a significant change. However, many view the birth of their Gifted child as a new beginning, as they pass their power down to the one they have sworn to love dearly.”
Rafiel frowned. Was that the cost of love? He could never imagine making such a sacrifice. “And you?”
“Me?” Nailah flushed at the sudden, personal question. She turned her head. “I haven’t given it much thought. Well, I haven’t given much thought to romance at all to be honest. But no. I would not wish to give up my powers, even for a child. I do love to transform and be free in the sands.”
“Could you ever see yourself being with a human?”
Nailah raised an eyebrow. “Like I said, I haven’t given it much thought. But the beorc here are no less my people than the laguz and Gifted.”
“I know…” Rafiel hung his head, averting his eyes from the stares that still lingered from the people around him, human and wolf alike. “What happens if a beorc… forced a laguz here?”
Nailah looked at him as he trembled. It was clear the laguz of Tellius were raised with such fears – and if their experience had been like Rafiel’s, she supposed she couldn’t blame them. “Then they would be severely punished. That is the law I have upheld as Queen. Whether it results in a child or not, such evils are dealt with by my hand.”
“I see…” Rafiel gave a small, nervous smile. “I think you are a wonderful Queen, Nailah…”
“Really?” Nailah tried to supress her blush. “I’m glad you feel that way.” She took his hand in her own, feeling how different his soft skin was from hers, a battle-hardened wolf as she was. “Come. Let’s return to the palace. Unless you want to explore some more?”
Rafiel was about to agree before he looked away quickly. Nailah looked in the direction of his gaze, where she saw a wolf beckoning people to dine at his establishment. Her nose was keen, and she already felt she would melt at the taste when it met her lips.
“Your meals have been wonderful, Queen Nailah, but I think you deserve a break. Would you like to dine with me here?” Rafiel was shy as he made his request, fidgeting with his fingers once more. Nailah chuckled to herself at his direct proposition, but calmed herself to smile at his growing confidence.
“I would be honoured, Prince Rafiel. Care to lead the way?”
*
Nailah wasn’t exactly afraid of her feelings for Rafiel, but she was certainly afraid of what he would think. She didn’t want to be like the men who had hurt him and his people. She didn’t want him to think he was in her care only for the purpose of eventually serving her desires.
Besides, Rafiel didn’t seem the type to be interested in a whirlwind romance. He had told her of his deceased fiancé, who he had adored so much in the short time he knew her, yet in his heart had not wished to marry. She seemed wonderful from Rafiel’s stories, and Nailah found herself mourning a soul she had never known. It was probably a good thing the heron had told her of his insufficient feelings – Nailah could resign herself to what would never be.
Still, that establishment Rafiel had noticed had become a frequent night out for the pair. The owners had been incredibly accommodating to Rafiel’s dietary needs, and Nailah was always in the mood for one of their signature seasoned steaks. They would face each other with naught but the candlelight to illuminate their private affair, slowly eating their meals in between careful conversation and shy, half-lidded gazes.
She would still walk him to his chambers every night, taking his hand as he climbed into bed to wish him a night of pleasant dreams. She withheld every urge to confess her desire to climb in with him to hold him close to her chest, ready to protect him at every moment whether waking or sleeping.
It never occurred to her that perhaps he wished for the same.
*
Rafiel was afraid of his growing feelings for Nailah. Afraid of what she would think. And afraid of what it meant for him.
Goddess, he had never experienced such warmth in his own heart before. The same giddy feelings he had felt opening his heart to his sister in the presence of that raven. Why now? After all these years, why only now did he feel this way? Why her and not Arabel? He’d hate for Nailah to believe he was some kind of frail little thing willing to fall for anyone who would save his life from a world of cruelty. But still, Nailah was different – even in his most vulnerable moments of illness, she had never judged him such, not even in the deepest depths of her heart. She was unlike anyone he had ever known. So unlike the heron civilians of Serenes, who greeted him as a friend yet bowed before him as a prince and unsurpassable galdr singer. So unlike the filthy humans of Begnion who clawed at him with desire, throwing their gold at his captors for the chance to possess his beauty.
She never demanded his voice, even if he knew she was awed by it. The man who had ‘saved’ him back then had somehow convinced him to sing regularly to ease the aches of his frail bones. Rafiel was so deep in his own gratitude, and fear of alternative masters, that he obliged. The man deserved it after all. It was what the heron owed.
He supposed he wouldn’t mind doing that for her. But he didn’t owe her anything. That’s what she always told him, and what he always tried to remind himself. He was a free man and could leave as he pleased.
Yet something deep within him desired to stay by her side.
*
Nailah had felt love before, yet her past flings in the court of succession could never compare to the flame that burned in her heart in the heron’s presence.
There was one man – his name was Han, an athletic wolf like her. A fellow contender for the throne of Hatari. Their competition resulted not only in their match-ups in the coliseum, but in the bedroom as well.
Her memories of the time were hazy, for it had been so long. He had told her one night as he lay beneath her – “I swear to it now that you shall be Queen, Nailah.”
“Oh?” she had replied. “Throwing the competition, are we now?”
“Never.” He had nuzzled his face into her neck. “But my Queen you will be once I take my rule.”
That had been the last time they had spoke, for Nailah entered a coliseum with no challenger the next evening. According to witnesses, Han had apparently spotted a burning home in the distance, sprinting in to attempt to save the people from the notorious bandits that had been terrorizing the smaller villages of Hatari for the past year. He hadn’t expected a trap, an assassination of the strongest contender for the crown. He died happy that he had at least mauled the man before he could make his assault on Nailah too.
As for Nailah, she took down the remaining challengers with a nonchalant ease, the soul of battle retreating from her heart alongside her greatest rival. Her coronation, while a thundering celebration for her people, was a soulless affair to her – it had all been too easy. She never had forgiven him for that.
It had been ten years, but since then Nailah had not met a soul who lit the same flame within her. Until Rafiel stumbled in and knocked a bucket of gasoline into her heart.
Her lovers of old had been warriors like herself, ready to take a beating on the battlefield if it won them the war. Rafiel was different – far different – from the qualities of strength valued by the wolves. Yet to Nailah, she had never found someone so attractive.
It wasn’t just the elusive beauty that came naturally to a heron, nor the soft, silky voice that echoed as he sang. His compassion for all living things, his concern for the safety of not only her but her vassals. The kindness he displayed to her people as they walked the streets together. His growing curiosity of her country’s sights and culture. His soft chatter as they stole glances over meals in that same restaurant every week. The gentle touch of his dainty hand on hers. The soft feeling of his gorgeous flowing hair as she would braid each lock as carefully as she could.
It was official. She was done for.
Had he been a Hatari-raised wolf, she would have stormed into his room and flung an arm around his back and held him close, initiating him to accept the offer and take her lips into his own. But he was no wolf.
He was a heron. And a fragile one at that.
And damn herself if she became the reason he didn’t feel safe.