Think Twice Before You Touch My Girl WHO Cavan Rosewood, Morgan Yates, and Aurora Greenlee WHAT Morgan and Aurora run into someone they least expect WHERE Havenwood General Hospital WHEN Wednesday, August 19, 2015 ~1:30PM (backdated) RATING PG
It had been nearly a week, six days, since the storm that had ravaged the little town had dissipated, and the mortals and their counterparts had been working diligently to get Havenwood back up and running. There had been significant damage to a number of businesses and homes in the area, though enough had escaped either unscathed or with minimal loss that life had continued.
For most. Some hadn't been as lucky. Cavan had just finished taking a tour of the morgue. He wasn't so macabre that he had an affinity for dead bodies, but knowing the names of his victims was a point of honor for him. In some small way, he supposed it made their sacrifice less trivial. Of course, these were not his victims alone, but he had not met with Virgil Hughes in the days after the destruction, and he had a feeling that wasn't just an oversight on the warlock's behalf. No doubt, he was up to something.
So was Cavan. He could admit that the loss of life was, perhaps, unfortunate. Maybe even regrettable. What the people of Havenwood did not realize yet was that they were caught in the midst of a war that very few knew about. There was bound to be collateral damage.
He was contemplating his next move with Flynnwood when he stepped into the lobby and caught sight of a flash of gold. The sun streamed in through the sliding glass doors and cast a halo around the slender woman who'd caught his attention, and Cavan had to bite back a laugh. He'd already spent enough time in the death-trap they called a hospital - he wasn't as used to being out and about in the mortal realm, and the amount of iron used to reinforce the building's construction was taking a toll on him - but he couldn't pass up an opportunity.
"Well, well, well," he drawled, his hand rising to rest upon his chest as he approached the princess and offered the slightest of bows. In his t-shirt and jeans, he blended in with the rest of the average masses, but no human glamour could hide Aurora's identity from him. "I did not imagine I'd have the pleasure of crossing your path today, Princess."
Morgan had spent enough time in and out of the mortal realm to develop a slight tolerance to all the iron they used in the ever increasing modern age. That still didn't mean he couldn't feel the iron in the walls, but he could ignore it for a while. No, the main reason he disliked these modern hospitals were all the ghosts. Some relief came when they took the elevator--Surely a death trap designed specifically for their kind!--and poured out of into the quiet of the hall on Kira's floor.
Very little damage had been done to Aurora's property that hadn't easily been cleared away with a little magic and manual labor. So when word got back to him from one of Evie's employees that she was still at the hospital, Morgan had convinced the princess to come with him so that he could convince the mortal to go home, shower, and change. Morgan knew by now that if he tried to convince Evie to rest, she would staunchly refuse and the Hellhound didn't have the heart to separate a mother from her child for so long. In exchange for Evie leaving, Morgan agreed to stay until her return and in the interim, Morgan played a fantastic game with his guilt.
The Hellhound, as he sat there in the room with it's quiet repetitively interrupted with the beeping machine, discovered what had to be a modicum of Evie's worry and fear. It was frightening to see such a usually rambunctious child lying on a bed looking so still and lifeless if it wasn't for the steady rise and fall of her little chest. Seeing Kira like that reminded him very much of the state Aurora had put herself in centuries ago and elicited a similar response. However, instead of talking about everything and nothing, Morgan simply removed his shoes, picked up a book from the stack on the nightstand beside the girl's hospital bed, and climbed in next to her. The guard was careful not to jostle the tubes running in and out of her as he cradled Kira and read to her. As soon as one storybook was finished, Morgan picked up the next, repeating the process until Evie's return. The woman looked marginally better, but in serious need of a good night's sleep. Something told the Hellhound that would not happen until her daughter opened her eyes.
By the time he and Aurora returned to the elevator to leave, Morgan was more than ready to leave. Between the necessity to ignore much of the building's metal, the ghosts that roamed the halls wanting his help when he made the mistake of making direct eye contact, and the emotional turmoil involving Kira... Morgan's emotions had reached the end of their leash enough that had zero tolerance for Cavan's arrogant, elitist Sidhe bullshit. Without preamble, the guard inserted himself between Aurora and the Spring Prince, holding up a hand to halt any more progress Cavan intended to make toward the princess.
"Sir, you need to step back and give Ms. Greenlee some room." While Morgan made his voice quiet, it held a command that brooked no room for argument.
In all of her years, Aurora didn't think she'd ever been involved in a more awkward situation. Nothing, absolutely nothing, had felt right since she and Morgan had parted ways at Rosewood Manor. That had been over a month ago, and she had moved back into the house since then, but that didn't mean things were better.
She hated the time he spent with Evangeline. Every time he left the house, it was like an iron poker twisting in her chest. He was doing this to protect her. That's what he'd implied. It's what Flynn had tried to say. But funny, this pain didn't feel like any protection she'd ever known. If he loved her even a fraction as much as he said he did, how could he move on so quickly? As if nothing she felt, nothing they felt for each other, meant a thing?
But she'd decided that she wasn't going to give up. Not on Morgan and not on her throne. She'd find a way to have them both, and until then...well, leaving him alone to do whatever he wanted while she wasn't around had been a mistake. Removing herself from his side had been a mistake. Maybe he did feel free to pursue a relationship with a human woman, but Aurora would be damned if she let him forget about her so easily.
Only...her determination to remain by his side had landed them both with feelings of guilt that were difficult to manage. If she hadn't been with him that day at Loaf Around...then maybe that little girl wouldn't be in a hospital bed right now. Morgan was duty bound to her, and because of that, she was still alive. He'd saved the Princess. But neither one of them had been able to save the girl. Every time he looked at her, looked at Kira, Aurora couldn't help but think that a part of him had to wish he hadn't made the choice he had.
Her own guilt was what spurred her to continue visiting the hospital with him, even though she felt out of place around Evie, and the iron in the building had a way of making her feel weak. Still, she couldn't hold anything against Kira. Even the princess herself had been charmed by the girl's spritely energy and winsome smile. But she was also relieved when Morgan decided to leave. She'd stood by the window as he read to the girl, and that pain in her chest had grown by leaps and bounds. Of course, she couldn't help but be reminded of the way he'd tended to her in much the same way. More than that, though, she could see quite plainly that this was the life Morgan had chosen to live. With a mortal woman. With her child. Seeing him with Kira, she couldn't help but imagine what it might be like to have him by her side, to fill the royal palace with children of their own. To watch him tell the stories of old as they fell asleep to the sound of his voice.
But those were just dreams now.
She followed him silently out of the elevator as they reached the lobby, but the sound of footsteps approaching and a voice addressing her made her stop. Aurora's lips parted and her eyes widened in shock when she saw the semi-familiar visage. He both did and did not look like himself, though it had been several years since she'd been in Prince Cavan's presence. The human look diminished some of his beauty, but she knew it to be him most certainly.
And that made her blood run cold. She'd heard stories about Cavan's desire for the Spring throne, especially in Flynnwood's absence. What could possibly have brought him to Havenwood? She didn't get a chance to return the greeting before Morgan had placed his large body between them. Truthfully, she was somewhat grateful for his interference, but diplomacy insisted she greet the Prince with at least a modicum of warmth.
"It's alright, Morgan. We mustn't be rude." She peered around Morgan's shoulder and managed a faint smile at the prince. "It has been quite a long time since we've had the...pleasure."
Cavan, who was not particularly keen on having to look up to anyone, lifted his head to peer up at the giant guard. His smile grew somewhat chilly before pulling into a smirk. Without otherwise acknowledging the Lesser Fey, Cavan stepped aside to make eye contact with Aurora. When she called off her dog, he inclined his head in a brief nod.
"A long time, indeed," he agreed as he reached for her hand and lifted it to his lips. He brushed a light kiss across the back of her knuckles, and a dimple appeared as he flashed her a charming smile. Straightening, he kept his hold on her hand as he looked her over from head to toe, a clear gleam of appreciation glowing in his eyes. "You have only grown more beautiful since last I saw you, Princess. It is unfortunate to have met in such a place as this." He meant Havenwood, of course, but gestured with his free hand to the hospital around them. His gaze did flicker back to the guard for a moment. "I am surprised the Court would risk placing you in such an environment."
Why is he here? Thought Morgan, who pursed his lips at the prince's jabs, wondering if Cavan had been following them. Perhaps his being at the hospital was mere coincidence, but the Hellhound didn't think it was. No, if Cavan was here, in town, he was up to something. Aurora would know this, but Morgan didn't like being in a place where innocents could be exposed to any political backlash or powerplay Cavan might inflict. Morgan turned his head in Aurora's direction, but kept his gaze locked on Cavan as he murmured.
"This is not good idea." But, the guard reluctantly took a step back to give them some room.
There was something…uncomfortable...about the way the Spring Prince eyed her, but Aurora only stiffened her spine and made a small attempt to pull her hand back. Unfortunately, his hold was strong, and she didn't want to cause a scene in the middle of the hospital by jerking away from him. Morgan's warning didn't fall on deaf ears, but what choice did she have? She couldn't simply ignore Cavan. Even if they were in the human world, Fae politics were still a tricky business.
His compliment caught her off guard. Thankfully, she didn't have to focus on it as he followed it up with a sentiment that struck a nerve. With a perfectly polite smile, she tugged at her hand again. "My Court has faith in my abilities. They have no need to fear for my safety."
"Ah, yes," Cavan grinned. "I can see that they sent you with a rather large…." He glanced in Morgan's direction. "Shield."
Finally, he let her hand go, but he took a step closer to her and reached forward to brush her hair back from her face. His fingertips grazed her temple as he moved to tuck her hair behind her ear, the silken strands of gold warm to the touch as they slid through his grasp. "You probably don't remember this, but I was in diplomatic residence when you were born. The entire Court was quite taken with you. Even I must admit, it was enchanting to watch you grow from such a tiny sprite into a blossoming young princess." He smiled, almost nostalgically, but it faded as he purposefully averted his gaze. "We in Spring were all quite saddened when my brother…." He paused again, as if considering the weight of his words. "When Flynnwood's deplorable actions deprived us of the benefit of your presence at Court." Except that, for Cavan, it had worked out exactly as he'd hoped.
The prince returned his gaze to Aurora and leaned in even closer. "This may not offer you any consolation, but to see you even as you are now, I am certain that my brother's fatuousness knows no bounds. There is no other excuse for letting you slip through his fingers, in favor of such a...mundane...predilection. He must be mad."
The Hellhounds relief that Cavan was no longer touching Aurora only lived for a fraction of a second when the prince stepped closer and brushed a lock of hair behind the princess' ear. It made Morgan's hackles rise at witnessing such unwarranted familiarity on the Spring fae's part, and it took everything he had not growl like a Hound warning another off his mate. If he did that, it would only give Cavan more fodder to play with it and Morgan hated playing the Long Game of politics. Clearly, the prince wanted Morgan to do something reckless, and he had no intention of giving in... until the slimy weasel's implications of Flynnwood's actions seemed on par to Morgan's.
Stepping into the couple, Morgan slipped a hand between them, pressing it to Cavan's chest as a subtle indication to back off unless the other fae wanted to be shoved back. His voice held an edge of roughness as he warned Cavan.
"You presume too much, little prince."
Aurora actually sucked in a breath of air when Cavan presumed to touch her. It was unwarranted, and unwanted, and pushed the boundaries of what was considered proper. Apparently, he thought he had a right to a certain level of familiarity, and the princess could not have disagreed more.
If they had not been in public, she may have been tempted to put the skills Morgan had been teaching her to good use. Her blue-green eyes flashed as she tilted her head away from his touch, but her smile remained intact. Always the dutiful princess. "I do recall your position at Court." He'd been a diplomat, yes, but by the time he'd finally departed for his return to Spring, Aurora had been old enough to overhear the rumors about the prince. Ruthless, murderous, they said. His conduct during the war, which predated Aurora's birth, had been brutal and lacked honor, though it struck fear into his enemies. Following the war, they said he'd become little more than a whoring drunk. Etain would not have suffered such a fool lightly, and from what Aurora recalled, he had not caused the sort of scandals a drunken prince usually would, but regardless of whether the rumors were all true, she still had little cause to trust him.
But the anger in her gaze paled when he offered his assessment of Flynnwood's treatment of her. It wasn't even because of Flynn. Their arrangement had been broken so long ago, and he'd become something of a trusted confidant and friend since her arrival in Havenwood. No, it was the glaring reminder that, once again, there was one who'd chosen to toss her aside in favor of a human. She couldn't muster the words for a reply, and even Morgan's intervention didn't offer much relief. Not when he was the one who'd made his choice.
Cavan was just about to comment on Aurora's reaction, when the hulking guard stepped forward and dared to lay a hand on him. A faint grin of disbelief tugged at his lip as he glanced down at Morgan's hand, but that expression grew cold as he lifted his eyes to the guard's face. "No, I believe that you presume too much, dog." He gripped the man's wrist, and thrust his hand away. "Know your place."
It was one thing to be Lesser Fey and another to be such in his home Court. There, being a Hound of the Wild Hunt had given Morgan some modicum of status. It meant he wasn't to be trifled with unless one wanted to risk a limb or even their life. There were reasons so many of Herne's guards were Hounds. When Etain allowed him a home in Summer, Morgan had gotten a rude awakening as to how the rest of Faerie viewed his kind. The words "dog" and "mutt" always got him in trouble. Always. He hated being called a dog, of being reminded of his station in life, his failure.
So when Cavan threw the word in his face, something twitched on it just as a growl rumbled in his chest and he grabbed the prince. His fists balled into the material of Cavan's shirt and he lifted the Fae slightly to shove him into a wall. Once again, his voice held an edge of roughness to it as he growled a retort.
"My place is exactly where it's supposed to be. Between you," which the Hellhound emphasized by jabbing a finger into the swell of Cavan's chest and then swinging his arm and pointing toward Aurora, "and her." He lowered his voice to a murmur, "I don't care who you are, or where you come from, you slimy little weasel. If you touch her again without invitation, on my word, you will lose a hand." The guard didn't let Cavan go until the weight of Morgan's oath settled between them, assuring him that the Hellhound meant it before he released the prince and stepped back. Again, he didn't take his eyes off the Bloody Prince, but turned his head enough to make an inquiry.
"... Ms. Greenlee?"
As soon as the word dog left the prince's lips, Aurora shook herself from her speechless stupor. She knew what it did to Morgan, especially when used in such a derogatory manner. She reached for his arm, but it was too late. As tall and imposing as her guard was, it didn't impede his speed. She watched with a sinking feeling of horror as he shoved the prince against a nearby wall. Between the sudden violence of the gesture, and the anger in his tone, people had begun to stop and stare.
"Morgan," she said, her tone sharp. It was meant to bring him to his senses, though all it accomplished was the lowering of his voice. Her jaw snapped shut and clenched tightly as she weighed her options. The last thing she needed was for Morgan's actions to put her in a position in which she would be forced to apologize to Cavan.
She stepped forward, her hand lightly clasping around his arm. She didn't pull him away, but it was a silent entreaty. Don't do this.
It seemed to get through to him, because he partially turned to acknowledge her. Aurora didn't answer immediately, but gazed past him to the prince. She would not make an excuse for Morgan's strong reaction, because it did not require one. He was her guard and Cavan had touched her without invitation. However, he had to some extent assaulted a Faerie Prince, and that was not to be taken lightly either.
Ultimately, she decided to say nothing about the matter to the prince. "Let us go, Morgan. Have a good day, Cavan."
From Cavan's perspective, there was more going on beneath the surface between Aurora and her guard. He hadn't noticed it at first, but when Morgan had grabbed him and physically pushed him away from the princess - despite their respective stations - he couldn't help but wonder what more had transpired between them. Even as the dog threatened him, the prince's gaze shifted to look over his shoulder at Aurora. It took everything in him not to laugh. He didn't need to read her mind in order to know what was going through it in that moment.
When Morgan finally stepped away, Cavan straightened his shirt and nodded at the princess. "Do not fret, Ms. Greenlee. I could never hold you accountable for the actions of a stray."
He stepped closer to Morgan, closing the distance between them quickly. "It is wise of you not to turn your back on me," he said, his voice a quiet murmur intended only for the hound's ears. His gaze then shifted to the Lesser Fey. "Not that it will stop me from reaching it."
Moving aside, he nodded again to Aurora, sketching another faint bow. "I hope that our next meeting will be much more...pleasurable...for us both, Princess." His smirk returned as looked to Morgan once more and offered, "Good day to you," before continuing on his way.
There had never been the intention to turn his back to the Spring prince. Cavan, after all, had rightfully earned the title Bloody Prince for a reason. Morgan knew he was skilled and had put that skill--and others--to good use during the Fae Wars. While the Courts hadn't been locked in physical battle for centuries, the Hellhound knew that there were other kinds of battles to be fought. The human phrase of winning battles but not the war came to mind; Morgan may have won the current battle, but whatever war Cavan was trying to incite, one couldn't determine whether or not who would win that. Still... When Cavan moved, Morgan moved with the prince to keep himself firmly between his charge and the potential threat. What that threat was, Morgan couldn't say, but somehow his gut was telling him that Cavan knew something about him and Aurora.
Only when the Spring prince moved along, did Morgan finally let some of the tension that had built drain from his shoulders, but his hands still shook with unspent anger and adrenaline. His gaze, however, was still trained on Cavan until he disappeared from sight. He frowned at the location before his attention shifted to the princess and he shook his head.
"I do not like this, Your Highness. Cavan being here. He's up to something," Morgan said, stating the obvious, "I think he suspects... something."
Aurora's hand slipped down to reach for his, but instead of lacing her fingers through his the way she wanted to, she merely curled her fingers around his hand in an effort to help calm the outward signs of his anger. She was silent as Morgan continued to stare in the direction Cavan had gone, until it seemed he was certain the prince would not return.
She was inclined to agree that Cavan's appearance in Havenwood most likely did not bode well. It was quite curious that the town had suffered through such an unnatural storm, and now the Spring prince was here. However, Morgan's final words gave her a pause. As if she'd been caught doing something she shouldn't have, she quickly released his hand and folded her arms across her chest, but then squared her shoulders and tossed her head defiantly. "Suspects what?" It was a rhetorical question. "Even if he does, there's nothing going on to back up his suspicions." She imagined Morgan must feel vindicated by that, and Cavan's words rose unbidden to her mind. A reminder that not one, but two Fae had now disregarded her in favor of the pursuit of a mortal was just what she'd needed. Drawing in a deep breath, the princess forced herself to relax. Or at least to appear more relaxed. "You're right, though. I don't think he's just here for a family visit. We should probably discuss this with Flynn."
Her hand in his felt nice, solid, an anchor to settle his rankled emotions. Morgan involuntarily squeezed those delicate fingers in his hand, but not too tightly. Just enough so that his appreciation was felt before his heart sank a little when she extracted her hand from his. The Hellhound inwardly winced at the tone of Aurora's voice and his guilt was rubbed in his face yet again as the prince's words rattled around in his head, too. And yet, he was going to continue poking the bear...
"Others of high status have been brought down with rumors over less, Princess," Morgan reminded her before he started moving as he noticed security guards approaching from down the hall. They had overstayed their welcome among all the iron, the sick, the dying, and the dead.