KANE WAS ON high alert.

White salt lined the threshold of the cave. A faint shimmer, a barrier, separated them from the outside world. It was meant to keep anything or anyone with ill intent from crossing over. Regardless, he kept an eye on the terrain in an effort to try and spot anything nefarious before it reached them.

The fire he tried to make from carefully harvested sticks and twigs was beyond pitiful. It burned weakly before swiftly evaporating into a cloud of smoke. His ears were burning as he apologized with bumbling words and shaking hands. The sharp words he expected to be lashed with never came, however. Instead she pointed at the bag and mentioned something about a lamp.

Tempest's drooping eyelids were halfway closed by the time he fished out the small lamp. It was similar to the one Silver kept in the sentient taxi. When Kane placed it between them, a pale green light oozed from the unlit candle.

Magick seemed to have a mind of its own seeing as how the lamp turned on without anyone doing anything.

Kane laid down on his cot, feeling somewhat guilty that Tempest slept on the cold ground. Tempest had said that she needed to be closer to the water from Lake Glass to maintain control over it. He understood that. Yet his bleeding heart still felt the need to check on her wellbeing despite that.

Exhaustion marred her beautiful face. There was a gentleness to the downwards slope of her brows that couldn't be found in her waking moments. The way her full lips fell into a pout then thinned as she breathed steadily was new.

It was the first time he'd ever seen her look so peaceful.

Tempest's mouth moved and a whisper emerged.

Kane rose, propping himself up on his arm. Missing what she'd said, he leaned a little closer. "Tempest?" he called out in a soft whisper. "Are you up?"

Her lashes fluttered. Before Kane could react she was peering up at him. Sleep clouded her vision, giving her green tainted eyes a dazed expression. She wet her lips with her tongue. Kane couldn't help himself from following the action.

"I said, I can feel you watching me. Please stop."

Kane's cheeks blazed with the scorching heat of the sun. He flopped on his back like a lifeless fish. In the simplest terms, Kane ignored the shame of being caught and became a tree. He didn't move and barely breathed.

A deep sigh cut through the silence of the night despite Kane's best efforts to melt into the ground. "You should rest too. I can stay awake while you sleep."

Kane gnawed on his bottom lip. He let out the breath of air he'd been holding because he'd gotten it in his head that he'd been breathing too loud.

"I can't," he admitted, staring at the cave's ceiling. There were blue dots covering it like the glitter and sparkles he used on school projects. It used to drive his grandma crazy. No matter how hard she cleaned, months later they still found little dots of the rainbow in their house. "Sorry for staring. And talking."

There was a shuffling sound but Kane refused to look. He counted the blue dots until he reached fifty. Then he counted them ten more times.

Sleep refused to take him.

"Speak."

Kane stopped counting, tugging on his thin blanket. "About?"

"Whatever's going on inside your mind." Tempest yawned. "You're one of those, aren't you? Can't sleep until you get whatever's making your head loud out and into the open. So, speak. It seems like neither of us will be getting any peace until you do so."

Kane rolled over onto his stomach, tucking his arms underneath his pillow. Tempest's eyes were closed but she looked as alert as he felt.

"I'm thinking about glitter and sparkles."

Tempest made a noise in the back of her throat, head tilting to the side as if to hear him better. "Glitter and sparkles? The... art supplies?"

The corner of Kane's mouth curled upwards. "I really liked colorful things as a kid. When I had to do projects for school, I always used sparkles and glitter. Making things colorful made them more fun." Kane glanced at Tempest's brown hair. The soft waves curled upwards, towards the sky. It reminded him of a goddess he saw in one of the books Silver showed him back at Lake Glass. "It drove my grandma crazy, though. My teachers too. Glitter and sparkles are hard to clean up once they fall off a poster."

Tempest didn't respond so Kane did what he did best.

He talked to fill the silence.

"You know, you asked me if I could dance once. I said I did but I don't think you believed me." Kane's wide eyes scanned Tempest for a reaction. Nothing. "I used to do ballet when I was a kid."

Tempest's closing eyes flew open. Her face whipped to the side so quickly Kane thought her neck would break. "You did ballet?!"

"You know what ballet is?!" Kane shot back, just as surprised as she was.

Tempest scoffed, propping herself up on her arm. She stared at him in disbelief. "Of course I do. Where do you think the arts came from? Certainly not humanity."

"The fae gave us ballet?!"

Tempest shook her head, listing things on her fingers one by one. "Art, music, poetry, dance, creative writing, all of it. Gods and goddesses didn't share until after we did."

"How... unnaturally kind of you guys?"

Tempest snorted, laying down with a twinkle in her eye. "The fae of old thought humanity was stupid. They assumed the arts would sharpen their caveman-like minds. Enlighten them, if you will. It worked for some. But not all."

"I feel like that's a backhanded, like, I don't know..." Kane squinted, fumbling for the words that evaded him. "It's not a backhanded compliment but it really feels backhanded."

Tempest shrugged. "Maybe it is."

"You do that a lot."

"Mhm."

"Were you always like that?"

Tempest's jaw tightened and something spiteful crossed her sharp face. "No."

Kane sighed, burying his face into the warm pillow. "I'm guessing that's Silver's fault too."

"What a good guesser you are," she replied, tone taking on a snarkier tone.

Kane frowned. He'd actually been enjoying their lighter conversation before it took such an ugly turn. Now his mind was running with new thoughts unrelated to sparkles and glitter.

What had Silver said before? About their parents and Tempest raising him...

Kane peeked at Tempest and the annoyed expression she wore. If she wasn't wide awake before then she certainly was now.

"Why do they call you Tempest?"

That marionette-like action he noticed earlier returned. It was as if some invisible force was pulling the words out of her without consent. If Kane didn't know any better, he would've thought she'd been cursed to speak even when she didn't want to.

But that couldn't be, could it? Silver had said before that Tempest was born blessed. Surely the blessed couldn't ever be cursed...

Right?

"When I grieved for Odette a violent storm emerged from Lake Glass. They called me Sunshine then." Her eyes were downcasted. If Kane didn't know any better, he would've thought she was ashamed. "It spread beyond my domain. No one could stop it. For seven days and seven nights, all of Hiraeth endured my tempest. So they called me Tempest. The Lady of the Lake with a heart as cold as ice itself."

Kane stared at her, speechless. He saw nothing more than raw anger and anguish. No matter how much he searched, he couldn't find traces of a woman that would earn herself the name Sunshine. Something so bright and sunny didn't suit the person before him.

Had Silver's treachery been so horrible that it changed her entire personality?

He didn't even know that wounds from betrayal could actually run that deep.

"Were your parents good people?"

Tempest frowned in what he assumed was confusion. "Yes? What kind of question is that?"

"I'm just curious." Kane dug his fingers into his palm, nervous but willing to take the risk to unravel the mystery that was Tempest. "Silver said he couldn't remember them so I wondered what they might've been like."

Something solemn struck Tempest like a whip. Kane watched, bewildered, as she transformed before his eyes. It was almost child-like, the way her arms curled around her stomach. Like she was trying to protect herself from whatever memories Kane stirred up for her.

He felt horrible when she turned her back to him. If he could yank those words out of the air and swallow them then he'd do so without question.

But he couldn't do that.

So he talked.

"I don't think my parents were bad people. Well," Kane paused, thinking about his mom, "my dad was alright. He met my mom when they were in college. She had me after they graduated. Grandma said that the curse made Mom's mental health really bad. Didn't explain much beyond that because, y'know, no one ever really talked about the curse. But my aunt did mention once that being with Dad made things a little better for her."

Kane's eyes traveled towards Tempest in order to gauge her reaction. Nothing but her back greeted him. Yet he persevered.

He wasn't the best at talking. But he was decent enough at pursuing things his heart led him towards. And right now his heart was intent on peeling back Tempest's many layers to get a glimpse of who she was underneath.

"My dad was a professor. Environmental science. So, y'know, he really didn't believe in curses." Kane chuckled. Hogwash. It was impossible to think of his dad without relating him to his favorite word. "My mom didn't want me to take ballet but Dad signed me up anyway. He said I should do the things that make me happy. I ended up quitting after he left. It wasn't as fun anymore. But it was cool while it lasted."

A fuzzy memory of his father came to mind. He was like Silver, in some ways, when it came to recalling their parents. He remembered a neatly trimmed beard and buzzed fiery red hair. His eyes were as green as emeralds. He towered over Kane like a great, big giant when he was little.

But Kane couldn't recall the melody of which he laughed. Or whether his voice was heavy and deep or light and airy. Did he smell like spices? Cologne? Kane didn't know. With the way the state of his world was in, he didn't think he'd ever find out.

"I used to wish he'd have taken me with him," Kane admitted, toying with a long strand of hair. "But I understand why he didn't. Staying with me and Mom drained him. At least, that's what people said when they thought I wasn't listening."

Was that a catch-22 situation? He thought so but he also wasn't so sure. English hadn't been the class he excelled in at all while in school.

"In a weird way, I think it was a good thing my sister died. She didn't have to grow up cursed. My dad found the strength to leave." Kane sighed, feeling at ease while he rambled. "I think, sometimes, if he stayed, his personality would've changed for the worse. Maybe he'd be like my mom and hit me, y'know? I think sometimes it's good to leave the people you love behind if it means taking care of yourself first."

When Kane looked at Tempest he was surprised to see she was facing him. The shawl covered half of her face. Her eyes were like empty pools of ink. They bored through him like bullets, sharp and quick as they analyzed him from head to toe.

"Your mother hit you?" she asked, timid words muffled by the cloth covering her mouth.

"It was the curse. It made her that way. I'm not mad about it."

He couldn't hold any grudge against her. His heart couldn't take it, all that hate.

"In Hiraeth, she would've lost her hands for that."

Kane's eyes widened. "On Earth, plenty of parents get away with stuff like that. Even if they do get caught, sometimes the punishment they get isn't what it should be."

The sound of fabrics rubbing together made his ears perk up. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Tempest lacing her hands together so she could rest her head on her arms.

"The fae are very traditional people," Tempest said matter-of-factly. "It's against our customs to ever lay a hand upon a child. That's why we cut them off whenever someone is discovered committing such a heinous act. In my world the punishment always fits the crime."

Their eyes met. Kane spoke without thinking. "And what would Silver's punishment be? Considering everything he's done."

A guarded expression rose and fell upon her face like the tides. Only this time it never returned. Leaving Tempest's appearance smooth like the sand after being kissed by the sea.

"I don't know." She swallowed thickly, conflicted eyes tracing the cracks in the ground. "He has blood on his hands. Some of the deals he made greatly hurt the Seelie Court. Queen Titania would demand a lot from him once it's time for him to take responsibility for his actions."

Kane felt something heavy sinking in his stomach like a stone. "And there's nothing I could do to stop it, right?" he asked, recalling his and Silver's conversation about keeping his "Merlin" by his side. He'd been hopeful then. But all he saw now was a pipe dream once faced with the harsh reality. "Me being King Arthur's reincarnation wouldn't help him in any way."

Tempest's face softened in ways he never knew it could. Pity simmered beneath the windows of her soul. "Your claim to fame only exists in a name," she replied. Gentle. Her eyelids were slower to blink now. "You've done nothing great in this life. You are no king. Does your reputation precede you? What leg do you have to stand on in defense of your friend? These are the things that matter. Not who you were in a past life."

"Could you lessen his punishment?" Kane asked, recognizing the pull that Tempest had. "Your battles are legendary. Silver says so. You're a Lady of the Lake. You're blessed. Everyone knows and respects you. If you spoke on his behalf, the queen would listen, right? Like she did before, when you demanded Silver and Odette stay with you while you trained. You could do it again."

Tempest nodded. "I could."

"But you wouldn't." Kane huffed, glaring at the ceiling. Sleep eluded him the more annoyed he became. "I don't understand. You love him. I know you do. He fucked up. But what if the queen asks for something crazy like his life? He already lost his soul. Even though he did bad things, that doesn't mean he has to die too, right?"

On Earth, the death penalty was an archaic practice no longer in use. He doubted things were the same on Hiraeth, though. Especially given the way Fox and his brigade worked to hunt down wrongdoers.

Tempest's laugh bounced off the walls, filling the hollow cave. It was ugly because it lacked mirth. He knew she was laughing at him because she thought he was being dumb.

"Helping him get a lesser sentence would be cruel."

Kane's face screwed up into equal parts confusion and indignation. "To who?!"

"Do the families of his victims not deserve justice?" Her voice was cold. Unrelenting. "Just because you like him a lot doesn't excuse everything he did. You think the fae are extreme? Perhaps we are. Because we are not human. We are firm. Like nature. Unyielding. Tough. We follow the law to the letter and when someone breaks it we break them in return just as equally. That is justice."

Tempest sat up, leaving the shawl to pool around her waist. Kane mirrored the action. His horny brain was completely shut off even as her shirt slipped, exposing her shoulder.

He kinda wanted to fight her, if he was being honest.

And not in the sexy way.

"I raised him to take responsibility for his actions. Not to run away and hide when things get tough." Tempest let out a heavy sigh, pinching the bridge of her nose. "Whatever love I have for him means nothing if he can't walk through Hiraeth as a free man. And he can never be free if he doesn't face punishment from the Seelie Court."

Kane knew bits and pieces about Silver's past. Enough to understand why people treated him badly. But not enough to get the full picture on why he had to pay such a steep price.

He was too afraid to ask now, scared of the answers that awaited him.

Tempest laid on her back, rubbing her eyes. Guilt resurfaced within Kane. He was supposed to be watching over her while she rested because she was tired after fighting a dragon. Instead he was antagonizing the hell out of her and dredging up old emotions because he was curious.

He hung his head low. "I'm sorry."

"I know." The ice was gone from her voice. She just sounded so tired that it twisted the knife in Kane's gut deeper. "You're always sorry. Even about things you shouldn't be. It's very odd."

Kane snorted. "Maybe it's a human thing."

Tempest hummed. "No. I think it's more of a you thing."

"My grandma used to say my heart was too big for my own good."

"She sounds wise."

His lips twitched. "She was."

Kane kept a vigilant watch on the mouth of the cave. The silence returned. Night seemed to last forever as the colors of the sky switched between plum purple and pure black. The different worlds were so interesting. Like the Otherworld, Drakōn had no stars. But unlike the Otherworld, Drakōn still had daytime.

Earth felt so boring the more he saw and experienced.

"Even in death the mere sound of your voice could bring me back from the beyond."

Kane jolted. "What?"

"That's what my father said to my mother the day she accepted his hand in marriage. They were rivals. My mother was always better at him in everything they did. Fighting, shooting, tracking. She always came first and he was second." The corners of her mouth lifted. It wasn't a smile, not really. But it almost was. "Even when they rose through the ranks, hers was always higher. They drove each other mad but my father said that deep down, he always knew he loved her. Being in competition just made it harder for him to accept his feelings."

"Did your mom feel the same way?"

Tempest let out a breathy laugh. "No way. She hated him. The sight of his face alone was enough to piss her off."

Kane grinned. He used to read books with couples like that. It was interesting to know they existed in real life too.

"How did they fall in love if she hated him?"

"He was the only one she trusted to watch her back in a fight." Tempest pressed her lips together, looking forlorn when she met Kane's eyes. "They argued a lot. But it was the little things that brought them together. Like dancing. Actually, they were the ones that taught me sword fighting was like a dance. Mother said she found her life partner because he was the only person to know which steps she'd take before she did. Love came quickly afterwards. As it usually does."

Kane stole another glance at her, pleased to see she wasn't looking back this time. Tempest's eyes were open but glazed over. It reminded him of caramel apples at the fair. The way they gleamed so sweetly and tantalizingly. Making him want to sink his teeth into every single one he set his sights on until his hunger was satiated.

"Have you ever been in love before?" he asked, referencing this version of herself and not Sunshine. Yet she answered before he got the chance to make that clear.

"Of course. Haven't you?"

Kane blew a raspberry, looking every bit of childish as he felt after being asked such a question. "No. It's hard to fall in love when your curse drives everyone away before you can genuinely catch feelings."

Tempest fiddled with the bunched up shawl. Uncertainty crossed her features. "Catch feelings?" she repeated. "That's... impossible. One cannot physically catch emotions."

Kane grinned, biting back his laughter. "It's slang," he explained, waving his hands around, "it means you develop feelings for someone. Romantically."

"Oh." Tempest's fair cheeks took on a soft shade of pink. From where Kane sat it appeared to be airbrushed upon her skin. "I see."

For a moment neither of them spoke. Kane had half a mind to bid her good night and let her sleep. But that pesky curiosity just wouldn't quit until he had all the answers he needed to satisfy himself.

"Tempest."

"Hm?"

"What is love?" he asked, tracing the outline of her almost smile.

"In what capacity?"

Kane tilted his head to the side. "What do you mean?"

"Platonic love or romantic love?" she clarified, eyes closing slowly. "There's a difference between the two. Both have intimacy but not in the same way. Love is many things because it takes on many forms."

Kane's head whirled with the new information. When he'd asked his grandma what love was she simply pointed at her mouth and said it was a smile. She promised Kane would understand one day. But at twenty-five years old he was years behind on ever reaching that milestone in life.

"Romantic."

"My father said that love is a tapestry." Tempest's voice reminded him of the wind. Sleep made it like a whisper. It carried her words away so quickly that he had to lean closer to catch every breezy syllable. "And this tapestry is something that can't ever be seen because you wear it within your bones. Only you can feel it. Only you know it's there. In this tapestry of love lives the ability to change. Because that's what love does. It changes you. Transforms you into someone new. Every thread brings out pieces of you that you never knew existed. It weaves new designs into your bones. Burns its presence into your soul. Love is a tapestry that remains with you even if there comes a day when that love no longer lives within you."

Well, when she put it that way, Kane sure as hell had never been in love before.

"How many tapestries do you have?"

Tempest cracked open an eye. "Only one."

"Really?"

"Why the tone of surprise?" Both eyes were wide open now and her brows rested high upon her forehead. "Do I look like a woman that's so free with her affections?"

Considering this was the most emotion he'd ever seen from her since they met, no was his immediate thought.

Kane ducked his head, concealing a small smile. "No. I don't think you're that type of person. I was just..."

"Curious," Tempest finished with a knowing glint in her eye. "Your curiosity rivals that of a pureblooded fae."

"It's probably the curse."

"Wouldn't surprise me if it was."

Kane toyed with the septagram hanging around his neck. He knew that, logically, this was his opening to ask what she knew about his family. Yet his mind was perfectly still. Quiet. Not one thought or trace of curiosity filled him.

He felt satisfied with where the conversation ended.

"Good night, Tempest."

Tempest hummed, resting on her side as she drifted off with her body facing towards him.

Kane played with the elemental athame absentmindedly. His fixed gaze never left the mouth of the cave. Time didn't exist but it was certainly slow to pass. When he felt a chill in his hand he looked down and gasped.

The athame in his hand glowed like the moon in Drakōn's sky.

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QOTD: What are your thoughts on Kane × Tempest's conversation? Are there points that you agreed or disagreed with? Why do you think the athame is glowing at the end?