Oak and Suren- First Tent Scene

The Prince stood before me. I don’t think he’d ever looked as dangerously enchanting as he did now. His chiseled features were contoured by the campfire’s light, which also illuminated the platinum strands of his hair. His plush lips were red at the centre and fleshed out to join the rest of his porcelain face. Goat horns protruded from his locks, which were now slightly disheveled and overgrown. They formed tiny gold crescents around his cheeks and neck.

His eyes narrowed at me.

“Am I of that much interest to you or have you noticed a bug on my tunic?’ he said, raising one meticulously groomed brow.

I barred my teeth at him before I could even stop myself. Spending so much time in the wild forests evidently was not bringing me closer to civility. And in my own defense, the company of a pompous prince and his guard made it difficult for anyone to be civil. I wondered what my parents would think of me now. They’d tried everything to domesticate me- teaching me old Faerie tongue, poetry, politics… they even attempted to put me through court etiquette classes. And here I was, the sum of all their efforts... A beast tied up and shackled like an animal. Even though I was Queen, I was (at least to the Crown) more lowly than a mortal.

The prince’s eyes bored into mine. Then he got up, his hand clasped behind his back on his forearm, and stood before the fire. “I see you are in no mood for conversation. Very well then. Let me say quite plainly that I am not your enemy Suren.”

Perhaps I was not eloquent, but I did know enough about Faerie loopholes. I was starting to catch up with their games. “You are not my friend either, are you Oak? Not like the old times," I replied with great difficulty, enunciating everything so carefully so as to avoid any mistakes.

Oak didn't so much as flinch at the mention of his name. Images of how Lady Nore had reacted when her knight accidentally addressed her by her name plagued me. His rotting tongue was worn around her neck for months. If Oak commanded it, it

wouldn’t be long before Tiernan would cut their journey and her tongue short. Which perhaps, might be bittersweet after all. 

“I’ll admit, my memory isn’t exceptional. But I do recall our friendship, however brief, very well and fondly. It is rather a shame you do not share these sentiments.” 

“I find it difficult for me to believe you still have any fondness for me,” I said. "Especially as my mother and whole court conspired against you. Speak truly Oak. You were not one for beating around the bush.” 

He turned to view me, his eyebrows raised in mild surprise by my insolence. “Beating around the bush…?”

“It means playing games. Speaking in riddles.”
His eyes remained calculating. As a child, Oak’s almond, hazel eyes were endearing and attractive. Now they seemed to be a silent weapon he used to cripple anyone. 
“You flatter me, Suren but I feel you inflate my intelligence. I do not harbor any resentment nor contempt, if that is what you imply. In fact, I wanted to accompany you myself so that we may be reacquainted.”
My mouth dropped to the floor. Or at least it would’ve done, if I lacked any self-respect.

I tried to gather this information in my head, and logically process it for any double meaning. The last thing Oak would want (if he ever dreamt of inheriting the crown) is to be in the company of traitors. There were few things she could think of that were a surer way to disqualify himself. Yet here he was. Perhaps he was playing a game? If so, she had yet to guess it. Which meant Oak was more intelligent than she'd given him credit for.

“And why would you want that?” I asked, still guarded.

He cocked his head, then said slowly; “well I’d rather have a ruler of one of my courts be my ally than a foe. Besides, you have not wronged me, and I believe it is in our benefit to collaborate rather than conspire against each other.” He flashed me a grin, as if he believed his smile were enough to enamor me. The pixie was right. The prince was indeed full of conceit.

I huffed. One side of me was glad he didn’t view me the way half of Elfhame did, but I couldn’t help feeling a little deflated. He was just looking out for his own interests after all. It was somewhat of a relief I didn’t need to second guess his motivations now for the random acts of kindness he had given me these past few days. It was all politics and machinations. 

“You are...” he said, turning away and using his magic to dim the fire “quite difficult to convince, however. If it is any consolation to you, I am not like my sisters and father. I wish we were more than just allies.” He added the last part quietly, picking the burnt logs with a pit poker. “But I will not push for it… I hope that I can change your mind about me.” 

I glanced up at him, schooling my face so I didn't gawk. He turned to face me. His hands remained behind his back as if he couldn’t quite trust himself, and his face was unreadable. “Of course, the ball is in your court Suren. I’ll let you make decisions on the nature of our friendship.”

“I-I..” I started, my voice gruff with something other than barbarity. I cleared my throat. “I do not make friends out of enemies, but I also do not make foes out of friends.” 

His face relaxed, and I noticed his feline eyes were now smoldering brown in the dark. He observed me with half-lidded eyes and a fox-like smile. 

“Am I now to regard you as a friend? “ he purred.

I gave one nod. Although I despised Oak less now, regarding him as a close friend was still a commitment I was not yet willing to take. Then again, Oak had probably different notions of what friendship entailed. One much different to the mortal world. “Yes, we are friends.”

“You have gotten better I must say. I don’t often credit myself for anything, but I do believe your speech sounds much more pleasant than when we first met,” he said with a lazy smile.

“Do you even remember when we first met?” I asked, barely concealing my irritation.

His brows furrowed. Then it cleared as he guessed my meaning.

“Of when we were children? Yes, briefly.”

I waited for him to add something, but the tent became awkwardly silent.

Then he spoke “I’m sorry for my sisters and my own treatment of you back then,” he said so softly I thought I must’ve misheard. “I understand you were raised amongst mortals and regarded it as your home. But so was I Suren. We have more in common than you think.” 

Oak stalked towards me and knelt, till his eyes were at level with mine. He slowly ungloved his hand and caressed my cheek, with his knuckles at first, then his thumb. I flinched, and snapped my teeth at him, making futile attempts to wiggle out of my handcuffs. He withdrew his hand slightly and chuckled. “Feral little wildling, aren't you?” He murmured, peering down at me from beneath his long lashes. His voice seemed sad and distant. ”No doubt my court would delight in having a new pet such as you. You are quite charming.” His eyes were sleepy, like those of ensorcelled mortals she would see often at her parents mercy. 


Asshole. And I was only just beginning to tolerate him. Letting my guard down, even a little, had proved a mistake. I tried to picture hurting him by raking my claws down one of his pretty cheeks. Strangely enough, the thought was almost as good as doing it. Therapeutic. I let out a shaky breath.
His hand hovered in the air. Then he drew my chin up till our faces were so close that I could see (to my own dismay) that he was indeed perfect. Even up close.

“Suren,” he murmured.

I peered up at him, my teeth still barred. But this time I didn’t lunge. 

He ran a hand through the coils of my hair, unbraiding my plaits with one smooth finger through them. He was trained at this- of course he was. Even mortal princes enjoyed the pleasures of court. Then, he threw his cloak around my back and kissed my forehead “I won’t press you for more tonight. It’s been a rough day and you should rest.” He didn't wait for me to respond, and I was grateful for it. I wasn't sure I had any good responses. “Good night, Suren.” 

He got up and drew back the tent curtains. His eyes flickered to the fire, and it immediately diminished. He slipped out into the night, and I watched as his shadow turned left, then was out of view.

I released a sigh of relief.

I wasn't sure how the rest of the journey would be, but at least for tonight, I would not need to worry about sharing a tent with Oak. I lay awake for a while trying to figure out what Oak’s plan was. After a few hours, I fell asleep. But I kept tossing and turning on the mattress, unable to get the image of Oak out of my head. 

That night I dreamt of Oak. He was sitting on the throne, smiling triumphantly as my tongue hung around his neck.