Title: Moonlight

Rating: T

Summary: "A life with the two of us, not as enemies.."

Pairing: Vayne/Milletian

Prologue

It's the work of a moment to undo the lock, and two to carefully open the balcony door ensuring it makes no sound. The barriers that protect the palace would have made access more difficult, but the marks burned into his prey helped negate that. Power calls to power, after all, and the bond between them was too strong to be denied. Catching the curtains in one arm, he shuts the door behind him before letting the heavy cloth fall, filling the room once again in darkness. Only a sliver of moonlight, bright and cold, is allowed to pierce through and illuminate. It doesn’t quite reach the bed.

Three, four, five steps closer. Just like that morning in the lighthouse weeks ago his steps are silent on the marble floor, but even if they weren't it's unlikely that the bed's occupant would hear him. Soon he's standing by the head of the bed looking down, and even in the shadows he can see his prey, a restless, huddled shape beneath the quilt dressed in what looks like a pale medical gown, dull in color compared to the platinum hair against the pillow. The face is turned away, but the bandages, that is obvious, and the sight of it brings a cold fire to his chest. Whether the fire has a name he deliberately chooses not to know, instead grimly reaching out to tear, to touch, to claim—

A pale hand flashes out to catch his wrist. Elodie’s good eye is wide. Effortlessly Balor pulls on his usual smile. "I see you've learnt to react when an enemy sneaks into your bed," he says.

The hand around his wrist tightens. Now that she is facing him Beimnech can see the bandage over her eye in all its blatant wrongness replacing what he knows was bright lavender and sending the cold fire within him higher. It's not a feeling he likes. "What are you doing here," she asks hoarsely.

"I thought I'd drop by to check on you. You have been having a rather rough time lately." He raises an eyebrow at Elodie's grip. "Do you plan on doing anything to me, or do you mind letting go so we can get more comfortable?"

If she hesitates it's not for long. Silently she releases him and shifts to make room on the bed as Balor slips off his greaves. Chestplate and the rest of the pieces of his armor are also removed and left by the bedpost like discarded shadows. Then he climbs onto the bed to sit with a pillow at his back leaning against the headboard, and gathers the heroine close. Elodie lays her head against his thigh and allows her eyes to shut, if not to sleep, then at least to deeply breathe. Beimnech rests his hand on her shoulder trying to calm the icy flame. "Lace," he murmurs.

Her ear twitches, "Hm?"

"I was just remembering, the morning we spent at the lighthouse, you were wearing a lace nightgown with frills. What happened to them?"

It's hard to tell what expression is on her face right now, whether it's anger or pain or simple resignation. "I…. threw them away," she replies softly. "Along with the rest of my clothes."

"Ah”

Silence.

“ A pity truly, those were very adorable." The bandage seems to glow in the moonlight and Balor reaches to trace its edge skimming the skin of her face. "Does it hurt?"

"....Why do you care."

"I’m curious." Avoiding direct answers to questions is second nature by now, and the bandage is rough against his fingertips. "Especially since I’ve been in your position myself. I know how it throbs, how when you try to sleep the pain pushes like blunt nails into your skull, and how when you blink you can feel your eyelid scrape against the jagged remains of your cornea. I know what it’s like to look at the world and find it flat—"

"Stop it." The words are thin and laced with cracks, there are claws digging into his leg enough to draw blood. Beimnech marvels at the pain wondering once again how the hell she could have let her guard down so badly as to let the likes of Cethlenn gravely wound her-- "Stop, stop talking, stop reminding me of that—"

There are hot tears soaking into the cloth of his pants. Beimnech moves his hand away from the bandage, the cold fire beneath his ribs turning to hollow dark. "What would you like me to do," he asks quietly.

Slowly, hesitantly, she curls up closer. "Just ... just stay here. With me. Until I fall asleep."

"... Very well."

He feels, rather than hears, the sigh from her lips in response. The nails digging painfully against his leg loosen and fall, the head on his lap grows heavy. Beimnech finds himself relaxing into the bed. Soon there is nothing to be heard in the room but the sound of their breathing if not in harmony, then at least close together.

Moonlight stretches and fades as Balor absently strokes his prey’s hair. At last he feels warm. Eventually, they sleep.