Chapter Text
Clouds hung dark and heavy overhead, perpetuating the gloom that settled over the cliffside village of Aerion. There was a threat of a storm — the kind that would fell the old wooden cabins and cut through the barns with its relentless torrent of wind. It was the kind that was an omen to the people who knew what lurked in the woods just beyond their territory.
Lucifer watched the rain trickle against the window pane. The pounding against the roof of his chalet — once a comfort — now brought apathy. He had built this home years ago, when he had been courting one of the noble dames in Aerion. Lilith was the daughter of the headsman, a beautiful peony in the drab prominence of his life. He had loved her, and she him, but her hand was promised to Adam the moment she came of age.
It didn’t matter now. Lilith could not stand the notion of her betrothal to Adam and with a final farewell to Lucifer, she had vanished nearly seven years ago.
The wooden beams overhead groaned against the force of the wind. A small, dark part of Lucifer almost wished it would collapse. Death was surely a more welcome embrace than the Hell Adam had subjected him to since Lilith’s disappearance.
Adam could never find fault in his own actions — in his own brutality and dismissal. There was no wrong that the mayor’s favorite noble could commit so blame must be allotted to another for what happened to his precious daughter. Lucifer, the disgraced son of a healer, was their only option. His only saving grace had been that Aerion had no other blacksmith. Lucifer’s skills were not one they could afford to lose.
And now, a new smithy had been sent from the central Kingdom and Lucifer knew his time was up. Adam was plotting. He had been planting the seeds of discord within the minds of Aerion, tainting Lucifer’s image beyond repair until he was nothing more than a scapegoat for their misfortune.
The rite was swiftly approaching — the storm raging outside was the call of the shadows that slithered through Moonshire Woods. The Beast had sent its warning, lurking in the nightmares of Aerion and awaiting what it is promised each year.
Lucifer knew that it would be sharpening its canines on his bones soon enough.
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The residents in this village filed into the meeting hall as one. The sun hung high in the sky, pushing away the demons that haunted the forest beyond. Light filtered in through the stained glass lining the walls, painting the space in reds and oranges and yellows. No one spoke, nary a whisper nor a cough as the seats slowly filled.
Lucifer sat towards the middle at the edge, a beam to one side and air to the other. The atmosphere was thick with tension — fear and sorrow and excitement coalescing together until it was enough to make him choke with each breath.
It wasn’t until the last straggler had shuffled inside and the heavy slam of the oak doors reverberated through the space did the mayor speak. He was a tall but stout man, dark blonde hair unkept atop his head and beard in disarray. The dark circles beneath his eyes spoke of sleepless nights yet the words he muttered held no weariness.
“The Beast beckons for retribution.”
As if it were listening, thunder rumbled off in the distance like a growl from the Heavens. Uneasy murmuring cut through the quiet hall yet Lucifer felt eerily calm in the apprehension.
The mayor continued, “As per our customs, those who have lived sinful lives shall be cast out as a sacrifice to appease the creature that stalks our trade routes, that maims the brave that try to bring back food and supplies.
And who is more befitting for the Chosen than the very one that laid waste to Lilith. A man who could not accept her rejection, could not allow her to be with the one she truly loved.”
How cruel of a father to hand off the daughter he claims grand affection for to a man equally as savage. Lucifer glanced towards where the sorry excuse of a human sat. His smile was smug, joyful in the beginning of the rite as a possessive arm wound around his wife. Eve — a lovely woman who was forced to marry Adam lest her family lose their home. It was not a loving union.
The bruises on her neck spoke volumes of that.
“Lucifer Morningstar, come forth.”
Collectively, all eyes turned to him. Lucifer didn’t react, didn’t show any fear as they wanted. He only rose to head down the aisle towards the altar. A marble carving of a long-forgotten Saint towered over the headsman, casting him in shadows as Lucifer approached slowly. Whispers followed him like a curse, taunting snickers making home in the recesses of his mind.
They had all been hoping for this. Adam had spread his lies and Aerion had turned their back on Lucifer. He should have seen it coming and yet, inexplicably, his heart clenched painfully beneath his sternum.
He turned to face the crowd. Faces blurred into one, features becoming undecipherable. They were nobodies — just as he was to them — and Lucifer felt a sense of relief with this fate. Perhaps his time left on Earth was numbered but Lucifer would never be subjected to this ridicule ever again.
His eyes met Adam’s. Unlike the nameless, the malicious glint in his gaze was clear as the crystals of his dishware. The village had been struggling with rations for nearly three years now and yet Adam’s appearance spoke of a lack of hunger.
Lucifer’s lip curled. Children were nothing more than toothpicks and yet this sorry excuse of a man always had a rack of ribs each evening to fill his stomach. Pathetic, truly. All his misdeeds would catch him unawares, that Lucifer was sure of. He may have the money and influence to get away with what he has done but Adam couldn’t run forever.
No, Adam did not deserve the satisfaction of Lucifer’s fears. He would not falter nor beg. He would accept his new role with pride, no matter how disconcerting his death may be. Lucifer will hold his head high — and perhaps he’ll see Lilith on the other side.
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“I’ve been waiting for this day,” Adam snarled as they trudged further into the forest. The sun had begun to dip towards the horizon, painting the skies in a vibrant swath of oranges and yellows and blues. Such beauty was swallowed by the thick overgrowth that washed Moonshire Woods in eternal shadows.
Lucifer’s final wish had been to watch the sun set one last time. Adam declared he was not worthy of the view.
A jagged root caught on the toe of Lucifer’s boot and he stumbled forward. The hand that had been clamped around his bicep had disappeared, Adam’s obnoxious cackling splitting the air and disturbing the birds that were perched in the branches.
Lucifer grit his teeth, forcing his bound hands beneath him to push him up to his knees. His palms were cut from the stones hidden in the dirt, blood cutting a line across his skin until it dripped to the floor beneath him. Adam was hunched over laughing.
“Oh, man,” He heaved, watching Lucifer struggle to balance with his hands bound. The rope dug into his wrists uncomfortably, the nerves of his fingers tingling the more he jostled them. The headsman had fastened the knot too tight though Lucifer was certain it had been purposeful. “Village outcast: bested by a tree root. Fuckin’ pathetic. I needed that.”
“And yet,” Lucifer smiled with a touch too many teeth, “Lilith chose me.”
The grin fell from Adam’s lips and with a speed that belied his physicality, Adam’s foot had connected with his ribs with a sickening crack. The breath was stolen from his lungs and Lucifer doubled over at the searing pain that coursed through him. Adam didn’t stop — his hand gripping Lucifer’s arm to pull him to his feet. The fingers of his free hand dug into the forming bruise to drag out a sharp cry.
Adam’s breath was moist against his face — thick with the scent of cheap booze and overly seasoned short ribs. The mixture was nauseating, only made worse when the bastard opened his mouth to spew venom.
The forest had grown still.
A deep, guttural growl reverberated through the growth. Leaves shuddered as the sound carried through the air — a warning in its tone and the promise of a threat to be carried out. Adam shoved Lucifer away, the color draining from his face to only leave terror in its place.
The snap of a branch, the wood creaking as it tumbled from above and to the dirt.
Adam turned tail and took off towards Aerion. Lucifer stumbled in the opposite direction with a gasp, the fear pushing away the pain if only to run as far from the being that stalked in the shadows.
The trees groaned around Lucifer, their breaths ghosting through his hair and against the mud that caked his skin. They stood tall, imposing — the guardians of the forest that swallowed everything that dared to venture within. Lucifer was not an ally of these woods, not a friend of the arbor that thrived around him. He was a human, a natural threat to the balance of nature. He had been warned what would happen if he stepped foot into these hallowed grounds.
It was time he learned.
The gnarled branches clawed through his clothes, his flesh, his muscle — but Lucifer didn’t stop. His feet sank into the brittle soil, stumbling over necrotic roots and decomposing bark. The leaves shuttered, once vibrant with life but now rotting the further Lucifer ran. Pain bloomed hot and sharp across his calf. Mud swallowed him as he fell, kissing his skin where the roots and stones gnashed at his wounds until they went numb.
The forest whined — an eerie note that rang out around him until it fell deathly silent. Lucifer gasped into the sodden dirt, musky and invasive as it filled his chest with scent. The leave’s frosty exhales chilled what was left of his nerves and Lucifer knew he wouldn’t be able to get up if he needed to.
The hairs on his arms stood at the rumble that echoed within his chest. Lucifer’s heart hammered into his throat, cutting off whatever breath his lungs desperately needed.
The cold forced a shiver through his over-exhausted limbs. All he could do was turn his head to the peer over his shoulder — into the bleak, eternal fog of the woods — and whisper a prayer to the Gods who surely turned a blind eye to this rite.
In the shadows of the conifers were two dazzling rubies, waiting and watching.
Lucifer knew that his time had come to an end.
All he could do was scoot backwards against the mud as crimson eyes circled him. The sun was gone now, the scant shade provided by the moonlight shifting at the form that moved through them as if it was incorporeal itself.
He tugged at his restraints, hoping to whoever may be listening that they had loosened during Adam’s assault. A hand — sharpened with red claws meant to tear — emerged from the brush to sink into the mud. Lucifer’s legs trembled as they struggled against the ground and then —
He lost his balance. The world tipped backwards as a cliff Lucifer hadn’t seen made itself known. Past the pounding of his heart was the roar of a river crashing against the walls of the gorge it had carved over time. His stomach sank as solid ground disappeared beneath him.
Even as he plummeted to his demise, his fingers of his bound hands caked with mud and blood from his last ditch attempt to catch himself, Lucifer couldn’t help the sense of tranquility that washed over him. This was his death, yes, but it wouldn’t be at the claws of an unruly beast.
The last thing Lucifer saw as the cold, watery embrace of darkness enveloped him was the sinister glow of ruby eyes and emerald stitches.
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Warmth. The heat clung to Lucifer’s clammy skin pleasantly, digging its hooks into the drowsiness that persisted in his mind. Something thick laid over him. It was soft to the touch — the scent of moss and earth heavy yet comforting. Lucifer shifted in his bed, burrowing deeper into the mattress. It was oddly conformed to his shape though it was the best rest Lucifer has had in a long while. He wasn’t quite ready to rise yet. Lucifer sighed as he allowed sleep to pull him under once more, turning onto his side to get comfy only —
Agony like Lucifer had never felt before shot through him and he sat up before he could think better of it. The air was stolen clean from his lungs, stomach rolling with the threat to spill its contents as he shook in his bed. His right side positively ached, and only when his brain stopped spinning did he squint through a single eye to spot the massive bruise painting his skin. It was deep purple starting below his armpit and ending just above his waist.
Adam had certainly broken a few of his ribs with that kick, then.
With a sigh, Lucifer focused on breathing until the worst of the pain subsided. Only then did he fully open his eyes to take in the brown and tan blanket pooled in his lap. A blanket that resembled furs more than anything else, and one that did not belong to him.
The rest of his memories slammed into him and any peace he had clinged onto was replaced with unrelenting dread. His gaze slowly drifted upwards to observe the rest of his surroundings.
He was in a cave of some sort, the walls smooth like something had taken the time to soften the edges. He wasn’t laying in a bed at all. Instead, there was a collection of furs masterfully placed to form what appeared to be a large nest. Despite the humidity that hung thick in the air, Lucifer couldn’t help but find it pleasant.
Lucifer valiantly shoved that thought far back into his mind and peeled off the blanket to observe his throbbing legs. Unusually clean cuts littered his calves and feet and his left ankle was swollen. Most embarrassingly, though, was the fact that he was nude. A quick glance around the cave showed his clothes missing. There was a pile of smaller cut furs just outside the nest with what appeared to be the rope the headsman had bound his wrists with.
Careful as to not jostle his ribs further, Lucifer grabbed the rope and one of the furs to fasten a makeshift skirt. It barely reached mid-thigh and any sudden movement would have it unraveling but considering just tying the damn knot left him winded, it was all he could do.
Dragging himself to his feet was even more taxing. Lucifer leaned heavily against the wall for support, a new layer of sweat forming from the exertion. He was careful not to put any weight on his injured ankle as he hobbled towards the vine covered exit.
The first thing that drew Lucifer’s eye was the waterfall that spilled into the basin around him. The walls were high with no visible path leading up the cliff face, which meant no easy escape route. The plunge pool was wide and cut through the middle of the area though it didn’t feel as if it were confining. Sunlight poured from above causing the surface to sparkle like the sapphires he had only ever seen on the royals that once visited Aerion.
It was beautiful, truly. For a moment, Lucifer could forget the pain in his side and throb of his ankle. The water moved in ripples that lapped gently at the scant slope of the shore, wetting the sand that felt impossibly soft between his toes. It was cool compared to the heat from overhead — a lovely contrast that made Lucifer desire to soak in the blue waters before him.
There was movement to his left, the sound of small rocks tumbling against each other that had Lucifer remembering exactly what had happened the last time he was conscious.
Slowly, Lucifer turned his body to face a looming rock jutting out from the side of the basin. The exterior was covered in jagged grooves — as if something had carved into the stone in a frenzy. Lucifer approached the stone, brows furrowed as his fingers glided over the markings curiously. The edges were clean — whatever had caused them were exceptionally sharp — but when Lucifer’s fingers ghosted along the inside, he found the texture to be rougher.
Lucifer was an experienced blacksmith yet he did not know of a tool that could cause deep gouges such as these. He could emulate a smaller version, of course, but the size of these just shouldn’t be possible…
Something cold and airy brushed against his waist and Lucifer stumbled away from the rock with a choked gasp. His ankle protested from the sudden movement but he willed himself to move further away from the tendril that slithered from the ground as if it were waving.
There was no time to dwell on the impossibility of that as what the shadow was connected to made itself known. Lucifer’s heart plummeted at the red hoof that stepped into the light, the shiny surface gleaming alluring despite the sharp ends. It was attached to a dark leg, like the mud that had caked his skin previously, that slowly faded into a much lighter tawny color.
Lucifer took another step back just as the being took one forward. The bones of its hips protruded visibly, framing the odd collection of thick fur that grew between its legs. Its ribs were just as harsh and pale dots littered the fur of its shoulders. Lucifer’s gaze paused at its throat, examining the green stitches that encircled the flesh before he forced himself to look upwards.
The structure of the beast’s face was oddly human with those narrow, crimson eyes that haunted his memories. What should have been white sclera was instead a darker red that matched the color of its eyelids. A wide smile was etched across its face sporting horrifyingly sharp teeth that made Lucifer quiver with fear knowing what it was going to do to him.
A shiver shook Lucifer’s frame as he finally took in the rack of antlers nestled between two black tipped ears. Vines hung from the tines and tangled into its odd haircut that had even more leaves and twigs poking out from the strands. The ends of each section sharpened into a point and suddenly, Lucifer’s earlier inquiry about the stone was answered.
Another move forward, another stumble backwards. Lucifer’s eyes darted around the basin searching for anything that he could use to defend himself. There was nothing immediate — only rocks and unfamiliar vegetation. Lucifer was crafty, yes, but even he could not create a weapon when the beast was a mere five feet in front of him. Injured as he was, he could not outspeed the monster and certainly could not outpower it.
This was not a fight he could win but Lucifer refused to go down a coward.
Just as the beast took another step, Lucifer surged forward with his shoulders squared. He ignored the pain that shot from his side, ignored the way his attempt at intimidation was undermined by his limp, and sneered just as the beast reeled back in surprise.
“If you thought I was going to be slaughtered without a fight,” Lucifer curled his fingers into a fist and smirked as the beast’s smile dropped just a smidge. “You are dead wrong. I don’t care if I have to tear out your throat with my teeth, I will not be best by the likes of a beast such as you.”
The air between them stilled as if the forest was holding its breath. Lucifer was panting, a sheen of sweat forming along his skin at the exertion of his wounds yet he refused to back down. The beast didn’t utter a sound nor move a single muscle. It only regarded Lucifer with what appeared to be interest — surely deciding how it was going to kill Lucifer in the most agonizing way possible.
Then, that eerie smile spread impossibly wider along its lips until green stitches pulled taut at the corners. It continued its approach with heavy footfalls that sank into the sodden sand. Lucifer didn’t budge, didn’t show any of the fear that seized his mind. He stayed strong even as the beast stopped mere inches in front of him. Lucifer barely reached its chest and wasn’t that just a frightening revelation.
The beast crouched down, its back cracking sickeningly until they were face to face. That smile never wavering and Lucifer held its intense gaze with all the courage he could muster. It lifted its hand, sharp fingers pressing against his waist as Lucifer was tugged further towards his maker. The last bit of bravado shuttered and Lucifer screwed his eyes shut just as those fangs inched towards his face. He was prepared for the searing pain of his muscle being torn from his body, for the sound of his bones cracking beneath powerful jaws yet such sensations never came.
Instead, he felt something warm and soft nuzzle against his cheek. Lucifer’s eyes fluttered open, his breath catching in his throat as the beast filled his vision. It was rubbing their cheeks together — gently, carefully, affectionately — and Lucifer was left with nothing but absolute confusion. This should’ve been the moment of his demise and yet…
Yet the beast was clutching him close with something that sounded suspiciously close to a purr rumbling from its chest.
And then, it spoke.
“You are too injured to fight,” It — he — said into the skin of Lucifer’s neck. “You need rest, little doe.”
Lucifer blink, one eye after the other. “... You talk.”
The beast chuckled, a deep vibration that traveled up his arm and sank into Lucifer’s body. “I do.”
“... I understand you.”
A laugh, loud and pleasing, broke free from the beast’s chest and before Lucifer could question the warmth that flooded him at the reaction, he was lifted clean off the ground and into strong arms. Lucifer’s face felt as if it were on fire and he quickly clutched his hands to his chest as the beast began its path back towards the cave Lucifer had woken up in.
He should have struggled — should have cursed the beast out for daring to kidnap him as it became increasingly clear that he would not be killed yet. He should have made good on his threat and sink his teeth into the neck that was well within his reach. There were hundreds of other things Lucifer should have done.
Instead, Lucifer allowed himself to be held in stunned silence. He merely watched as the beast ducked through the cave until they reached the nest. Lucifer said nothing, only winced when he was lowered gently into the middle of the furs. Despite his outward appearance, the beast was taking remarkable care to not put any pressure on Lucifer’s injuries.
The consideration left him more puzzled than anything else that had happened thus far.
“I will bring you food when you awaken next.” The beast murmured, his smile smaller as he leaned forward to press their foreheads together. “Sleep.”
Lucifer watched as the beast turned to exit the cave, his tail swishing slowly behind him as he disappeared from sight.
Perhaps it was the adrenaline of the confrontation or perhaps the beast had some sort of mind control because inexplicably, Lucifer found himself laying back in the nest as the wave of exhaustion took over.
Either way, Lucifer knew that he would not be able to do much in ways of escaping as injured as he currently was. The beast was right in that regard: Lucifer needed rest if he wanted a chance at a getaway.
He’d think of a plan come morning.
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With the direction of the sun being Lucifer’s only indication of time passing, he guessed it had been nearly a week since the rite took place. A week that was filled with nothing but uncertainty, anxiety, fear, and quite possibly worst of all… curiosity.
The beast who he had learned was called Alastor was nothing like he had expected. For one, Lucifer was very much still alive. The first few days were spent in fear — flinching away from each unexpected touch and meal presented to him. Briefly, he had considered the idea of simply allowing himself to starve.
It was day six when the hunger pains became unbearable. His stomach felt as if it were eating itself alive, the aches sharp and consistent. As much as Lucifer didn’t want to give into Alastor’s offerings, he could not stand the pain any longer. The rest of his body still very much hurt and there would be no reprieve if he continued his torture.
That evening, just like every night previously, Alastor returned with a dead deer in his jaws. He dropped the carcass at the entrance of the cave before approaching Lucifer who hadn’t left the nest once since he’d woken up the second time. Lucifer pressed as far back against the furs as he could — anything to put as much distance between himself and Alastor.
“Little doe, you must eat.” Alastor spoke, soft and quiet yet unmistakably worried. It was a tone that Lucifer had heard each time he refused a meal and one that continued to perplex him. The beast was incapable of something as human as caring. Perhaps he wanted to put more meat onto Lucifer’s slim figure for a more filling meal.
That should have had him refusing. If Alastor were to eat him, Lucifer should make sure he was the most unappetizing he could possibly make himself.
Yet when his gaze dropped to stare at the deceased stag that was soaking in a pool of its own blood, his stomach growled traitorously. Lucifer closed his eyes with a sigh, placing a hand over his abdomen and knew he would not be able to continue this fight any longer.
“... I can’t eat that.” Lucifer’s voice was raspy with misuse, the words cracking on his dry tongue. He cleared his throat as he realized just how thirsty he was as well. With Alastor gone most of the day, he hadn’t bothered to leave the nest and get water.
“Is it not to your liking?” Alastor visibly perked up at Lucifer speaking to him since the first day, only to glance back at the deer and deflate. As if he were upset at the idea that Lucifer didn’t enjoy the meal brought to him.
Lucifer didn’t know what to do with that. Instead, he carefully shook his head. “Humans can’t eat raw meat. We get sick.”
Alastor hummed, contemplative, before he seemingly got an idea. He stood and sauntered past the corpse to begin gathering wood found around the basin. What he collected was then formed into a makeshift fire pit, the wood organized in a rectangular design with kindling and smaller twigs filling the empty middle.
Intrigue got the better of him and Lucifer found himself limping along the cave walls to watch Alastor. By the time he had made it to the entrance, Alastor had procured a flat stone that was large enough to be placed atop the wood. Then, in a blaze of something otherworldly, green flames burst to life before simmering down to something manageable that licked the undersurface of the stone.
Lucifer couldn’t even be bothered when Alastor tore into the deer with his claws, his eyes glued to the emerald fire that had just appeared out of thin air. There had been no spark, no accelerant used to coax the flames into existence. Lucifer had never seen a fire of this color before — they were typically yellow or orange with the occasional blue depending on how he struck metal.
His mind was sent reeling when a thick cut of meat was placed on the stone. It sizzled with the heat the fire provided — another impossibility as it shouldn’t have heated that swiftly — and Lucifer came to the realization that Alastor knew how to cook.
This beast that haunted Aerion, that was feral as he chased him through the forest, knew a human task that required a specific level of intelligence.
Of course, Lucifer wasn’t foolish enough to think that Alastor was mindless. The way he spoke clearly and eloquently was proof enough. But this… this was something Lucifer didn’t know how to understand.
“Sit.” Alastor dropped a pile of the extra furs at Lucifer’s feet, arranging them into something that would be comfortable to sit on before grasping Lucifer’s hips to lower him down. He didn’t resist, his mouth still hung open as he dropped into the furs. His tender ribs took that moment to remind him that he was not healed and the sudden pain forced a gasp from his lungs.
With his recovered clarity, Lucifer flinched away from Alastor’s hands. That smile he had never seen dropped twitched downwards at the action but Alastor said nothing as he stalked to the base of the waterfall. Lucifer watched the meat cook, the ache in his stomach increasing with each passing minute.
A silver cup was thrust into his line of sight filled with clear water. Lucifer had no idea where Alastor had gotten such a thing but it had shown up three days into his kidnapping. Lucifer leaned away from it with a scrunch of his nose.
“I don’t need that.”
“Your kind does.” Alastor’s ear flicked, his grip around the cup tightening slightly.
Lucifer sneered. “Right, and next thing I know I’ve keeled over dead from whatever poison exists in these woods.” He was well aware how hypocritical it was of him when he was ready to eat that venison cooking not far away from them.
Alastor growled, his eyes flashing black as he shoved the cup into Lucifer’s hands. His breath stuttered in his throat, dread clutching his lungs as Alastor stalked back towards the fire. The beast’s shoulders were tense and he flipped the meat with more force than necessary, lips curled over his teeth.
For a moment, Lucifer considered throwing the cup onto the ground if only to prove a point. One look at Alastor told him not to test his luck.
The silence between them was tense. Lucifer hadn’t moved since the cup was handed to him, his leg bouncing as he glanced at anywhere except Alastor. The beast in question had deemed the meat to be done as he found yet another flat rock, washed it in the water, before placing that on Lucifer’s lap to be eaten.
He didn’t touch that either.
Alastor was crouched by the deer, simply peering down at it as the fire continued to crackle. The sun was beginning to dip below the horizon and the shadows in the basin deepened as the light disappeared with each passing second. The stone was warm on Lucifer’s lap and the meat, despite who had cooked it, smelled divine. His stomach rumbled again.
“I am not going to harm you.” Alastor said quietly into the night and Lucifer finally glanced his way. His smile was tight and close-lipped as he repeated the same assurance he had the entire week. It didn’t soothe Lucifer’s fears.
“Is that what you told all the others from Aerion before you slaughtered them?” Lucifer wished he could say there was more ice behind his words but they sounded exceptionally weak to his own ears.
Alastor huffed and dug his claws into the stag. “I kill those who harm what is mine to protect.” He gestured towards the trees that circled the top of the cliff. “I am the guardian of these woods — and humans would have burned it down long ago had I not stepped in.”
“So cutting down a few trees justifies killing a person?” Lucifer scoffed, stare hardening as the courage to face Alastor grew at the injustice. “You’re despicable.”
“A few trees?” Alastor snapped, rising to his full height as the iris of his eyes glowed an eerie green. Lucifer froze in his spot. “Humans burned down everything around it to make way for their villages and castles. They carved their roads through the forest, destroyed homes and tortured those that live here all in the name of their own greed.”
The cup clattered to the dirt, water splashing over Lucifer’s feet as Alastor stomped towards him. His antlers creaked as they extended, the tines curving upwards into the darkening sky to cast a haunting silhouette of Alastor’s figure.
“I am the guardian of this forest.” Alastor repeated, his voice warped into something inhuman, the edges sharpening and yet warbling with something Lucifer was unfamiliar with. “No human life is more than the countless creatures your kind has slaughtered. I will make sure retribution is given tenfold.”
The solid form of Alastor collapsed into the shadows until only the emerald fire was his company. The light it offered reflected off the spilled cup and Lucifer glanced down at the untouched meat that had since gone cold.
He was no longer hungry.
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Alastor hadn’t muttered a word to him since that night three days ago. He continued to bring meat but after the fourth time Lucifer didn’t eat what was cooked, Alastor stopped offering venison.
Lucifer told himself it was because he didn’t trust Alastor but he knew it was because what Alastor had said stuck with him.
He thought back to Aerion — to the farmers who kept their livestock tied and unable to move. They always said it made the meat more tender but it had never sat right with Lucifer. He had never enjoyed eating animals but living in a village whose supply of food was as scarce as it was, Lucifer had no choice. Animals could be bred and fattened enough to feed many people. Fruits and vegetables were a hard commodity for Aerion because of the dry dirt and lack of clean water. They would not grow.
That’s why he ignored any of his thoughts screaming to refuse the berries Alastor had brought back one day. Lucifer hadn’t had fruit in years.
The flavor exploded against his tongue, sharp and bitter with a tantalizing sweetness that had his toes curling in delight. They were juicy and perfectly soft on his palate and before long, the handful he was given was gone.
Alastor had simply watched him, his smile wide and unnerving. Lucifer did his best to ignore the tail that wagged wildly behind the beast.
He was gone again after Lucifer finished eating. His stomach still ached — a handful of berries wasn’t filling enough — but the hunger had subsided enough for him to stand steadily. His body was still recovering from Adam’s assault and the plunge in the river but he could walk decently now.
Lucifer had observed the comings and goings of Alastor. Every time, Alastor would sink into the shadows for his departure. Not once did he reveal an exit to this basin and Lucifer had already accepted that the beast was far more intelligent than his appearance would let on.
Standing from the stump he’d begun using as a chair, Lucifer limped to the nearest wall. It was cool under his touch from where the shade protected it from the sun and jagged unlike the odd, smooth boulder that Alastor used to sharpen his antlers.
He hobbled along the walls, his fingers tracing every groove to find something secret — something Alastor wouldn’t want him to see. Sometimes, there would be moss growing along the cracks but there was never anything to note with the change in texture.
A portion of the wall was covered in thick vines and Lucifer’s heartbeat sped up at the idea of it concealing an opening. He stuck his arm through the foliage but when his palm met the hard, cold surface of more rock, he couldn’t help the heat that sprung to his eyes.
There was no discernable escape. The pounding of the waterfall was intense and Lucifer wasn’t sure how deep the pool at the bottom was. He couldn’t risk checking behind it in case he fell in. With how much his side ached with each movement, swimming was not an option for him. Climbing out of the basin was even less so. He was stuck until he was healed.
Lucifer knew from experience how long it took to recover from broken ribs.
It hit Lucifer then, that despite how miserable he had been in Aerion, he wasn’t ready to die. He had always dreamed of a life outside of that village — away from the monotony and fear and ridicule. He had dreamed of himself in the kingdoms past Moonshire Woods creating paintings and sculptures for people to admire.
He had never wanted to settle as a blacksmith but there were no uses for artists in Aerion, and there was no escape unless he wished to be mauled. He wanted a family — someone who would be excited when he’d come home and children he could love with all that he had. All he wanted was a better life.
And now, Lucifer was going to die here at the hands of a beast.
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“If part of the reason you hate humans is because they kill animals,” Lucifer spoke up one day, playing with a red berry between his fingers, “why do you eat meat?”
This was the first time they had talked in two weeks. Alastor had expanded the types of fruits he brought as well as somehow procuring vegetables that Lucifer started cooking on the stone. It was more that he usually ate back in Aerion and Lucifer’s strength had returned and then some.
Alastor paused from where he was elbows deep in the carcass of a bear. Lucifer should have been concerned by how desensitized he was to watching something get gutted but after being trapped in this basin for three weeks now, he had seen Alastor do this plenty.
Crimson eyes bore into Lucifer before Alastor returned to his work. “There is a difference between hunting for food and hunting to cause pain.”
There was a crunch and Lucifer watched, detached, as the sternum was removed and tossed to the side. It disappeared into the shadows before it could touch the ground.
“The cycle of life and death is natural just as is the predators that must kill to survive. The animals I protect know this process intimately. They know not to take more than they need.” Alastor glanced up, his lips curling into a snarl. “Humans always take more than they need.”
Lucifer’s gaze dropped back to the berries. One had popped between his fingers, the pink juice staining his fingers as it quickly dried on his skin. The air had grown colder with the change of seasons and the leaves had shifted into auburn and gold. Lucifer shivered as a gust of wind cooled the liquid on his fingers further.
“You’ve said you won’t harm me.” Lucifer set aside his food, pulling his knees up to his chest. The water of the plunge pool rippled in the breeze and the reflection of light shimmered like it was stained glass. His arms hugged his legs closer. “Why?”
“Because you do not deserve to be killed.”
Lucifer frowned. “I’m a human, in case you’ve forgotten.”
Alastor didn’t respond. He finished gutting the bear in silence, walking to the water to wash the blood from his claws. Lucifer’s eyes fell shut with a sigh as another gush of wind whispered along his skin until gooseflesh erupted along his arms.
He was content to just sit here as the sun slowly slipped further past the horizon. Night would fall soon and the chill would eventually grow unbearable. Lucifer didn’t have the energy to move. The nest may be warm but it was simply a reminder of how he was trapped. He preferred spending his days out in the basin where it was less suffocating.
Something soft draped across his back and over his shoulders, enveloping him in heat that instantly chased away the cold air. Lucifer blinked, his fingers loosening their grip around his bicep to brush against the fur blanket. He recognized the pattern: a wolf that had gotten too gluttonous. Alastor had killed it protecting a herd of deer.
At the time, he had been too frightened by the predatory display to question why Alastor had skinned that one but not the other animals he had brought back.
It had been washed. The fur smelt pleasantly of flowers — not too strong yet present enough — and the texture wasn’t as coarse as Lucifer knew a wolf’s to be. He realized that neither side was leathery which meant Alastor had attached two different furs together somehow. A glance at the inside showed black like the night’s sky.
Lucifer blinked when the leaf of berries was placed back in his hands and the fur pelt drawn tighter around his shoulders. The thickness of it warded off the chill of the evening. When his gaze rose to meet Alastor’s, any trepidation he may have felt melted away from the clear, unbidden affection in Alastor’s eyes.
“You are not like them.”
The wind quieted down to a memory, the shiver wracking Lucifer having nothing to do with the cold. Alastor’s smile softened as he leaned forward to press his nose against the side of Lucifer’s neck. He didn’t dare move, his fingers gripping the fur tighter. Alastor was careful not to touch him anywhere else — just the gentle, warm press of his face in the crook of Lucifer’s neck.
“You are better.” Alastor whispered against his skin with a voice that stole Lucifer’s breath.
He pulled away to disappear into the shadows and Lucifer pretended the pounding in his chest had nothing to do with Alastor.
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Lucifer had woken up at dawn on the day that marked the month since his sacrifice. His ankle had healed well enough but his ribs still ached if he was not careful. The basin had been examined inch by inch and the only escape would be to climb — not something possible in his condition quite yet — and so Lucifer had partaken a new hobby altogether.
Watching the beast.
It proved to be a lot more difficult than expected as Alastor made himself scarce for most of the day but Lucifer had learned some interesting tidbits during his observations. For one: he never seemed to sleep. While it was possible Alastor rested while Lucifer did, his own sleep regiment was entirely lacking and not once during his fitful nights of sleep did he wake to a sleeping beast. Alastor would always be drawing things into the dirt that would be gone by morning or listening to the sounds around them.
Two: He had a soft spot for deer. This, upon further thought, made sense to Lucifer as Alastor himself appeared very deer-like. He would act more harsh towards the animals that threatened the herds past the reasoning of survival. There had been a few times when Alastor would return with a wounded doe or fawn only to nurse them back to health and return them to their family.
Lucifer also noticed he was particularly kinder towards the females.
Three, and the most interesting: Alastor could talk to animals. That one had been a surprise to walk out of the cave only to see Alastor hosting a council of skunks, deer, birds, and squirrels. He was clearly talking — his voice changing as he addressed each creature. Lucifer desperately wanted to ask about that but he still wasn’t quite sure where he stood with Alastor… or if he wanted any more ammunition to view him as anything other than dangerous.
Four: Alastor was a scavenger of sorts. Not for food like vultures, but for human items. Lucifer had complained once — when he was certain he was alone — that the furs were too uncomfortable to wear and Alastor had shown up that night with a set of clothes that fit him quite well. They were clearly well-worn but comfortable and higher quality than what he had in Aerion. The shirt was a red tunic, the pants a simple black. He had no shoes though he had begun to get used to the feeling of rocks against his feet.
Silverware had been given next. Alastor had noticed Lucifer struggling to eat some of the thicker fruits and vegetables. The next day, Alastor handed him a fork, spoon, and knife.
Lucifer thought about how that knife could help in his escape but it was fairly dull and the blade was only two inches. Meant to cut fruit and nothing more — a smart move on Alastor’s part.
Admittedly, it made living in the cave a lot more bearable. Outside of his art and smithing, Lucifer didn’t enjoy getting his hands dirty with food and without any soap, washing with just water felt inadequate.
He hadn’t thought much of these offerings. It could very well be Alastor trying to gain Lucifer’s trust — to lower his guard so the fight for his life would be easier. No, Lucifer refused to think anything of these little gifts.
Until Alastor showed up that morning with a golden armband lined with hanging ruby teardrops.
It was beautiful. The gold shined in the light as he tilted it in his hands, the metal smooth and cold underneath his fingers. The rubies glittered with the reflection of the sun, blinding in its own right but breathtakingly gorgeous.
“Where did you get this?” Lucifer asked — weary of the answer yet curious all the same. Alastor was sitting in front of him, his expression openly eager and tail wagging behind him at Lucifer’s lack of immediate rejection.
“A group of humans tried to cut through a patch of trees to create a path for their merchandise. I chased them off and they left this behind.” Alastor shuffled forward, just the smallest amount, and Lucifer found that he wasn’t as intimidated as he used to be.
“Chased, or killed?”
Alastor huffed. “Chased. I know you do not like me killing them.” He inched closer again, eager eyes on the armband. “Put it on.”
Lucifer hesitated as his gaze fell back to the piece of jewelry in his hands. It was clearly meant for a noble and not for a smithy like him. A rare, quality metal such as gold was something he had only dreamed of even seeing yet here he was, holding a band that was worth far more than anything he had ever created.
“I…” Lucifer drew his bottom lip between his teeth, picking at the chapped skin. “I don’t really deserve something like this.”
Alastor’s tail stopped wagging and his head tilted to the right. Those ears atop his head flopped to the side in a manner that was, Lucifer dared to say, cute. They just stared at one another — Alastor with curiosity and Lucifer with discomfort.
The beast took a step forward. And then another when Lucifer didn’t move.
Soon enough, they were nearly toe to toe, Alastor’s breath warm on Lucifer’s face. He carefully took the armband from Lucifer and gripped the shoulder of his right sleeve between his claws—
And tore the fabric clean off.
“Hey!” Lucifer squawked, heat rising to his face at the sheer audacity. Alastor didn’t seem to care, only holding his hand to slip the armband on until it rested snug against Lucifer’s bicep. Then, he pulled back and Lucifer felt oddly cold.
“What do you think?” Alastor led him towards the pool and stepped back just as Lucifer’s reflection came into view.
He had put on some much needed weight and generally looked far healthier than before if he looked past the eyebags. His attention, however, was drawn to the armband he now wore. It stood out against his pale skin, the rubies resting gently against his bicep. Lucifer lifted a hand to brush against the gems and despite his better judgement, a smile crossed his lips.
“It’s beautiful.” Lucifer’s gaze met Alastor’s in the reflection and quietly, almost shyly, he whispered, “Thank you.”
Alastor leaned forward to press their cheeks together. “You look stunning, nin emel.”
The nickname was new too. It wasn’t a language Lucifer was familiar with, but the way it was always spoken so softly, like a prayer whispered in the wind… Lucifer was afraid to ask its meaning.
That moment marked the start of something odd. Alastor continued to be gone for a majority of the day however, when he came back during the evenings, it wasn’t only food he brought with him. Rings, necklaces, bands, bracelets, jewelry that Lucifer had only ever dreamed of touching, let alone wearing.
Before long, Lucifer was covered head to toe in gold. He had tried to deny the head chain but Alastor had taken that the wrong way — whatever way it was meant to be taken, Lucifer wasn’t sure — and had sulked for days after. It pulled at his heartstrings and admittedly, the way Alastor lit up the first time Lucifer wore it was adorable.
Lucifer wasn’t sure if this was all part of Alastor’s plan to lower his guard, but as the sapphires of the bracelet twinkled dazzlingly in the sun, he couldn’t deny that it was working.
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As surprisingly… decent as being held hostage by an otherworldly beast is, there was one thing that Lucifer loathed: hygiene. More accurately, it was the lack thereof.
The scent of moss and whatever other materials that were used for the nest masked any other odors but as Lucifer grew used to that smell, everything else became apparent.
Lucifer hadn’t bathed since his unceremonious tumble in the river. He reeked like it.
The pounding of the waterfall sounded incredibly appealing right now.
He stood from the nest with a groan, rubbing his side that had hurt less and less with each passing day. The bruise was nearly gone now but the area was still quite tender. Not too long and it’ll be fully healed — then Lucifer could properly execute his escape.
A quick peek outside of the cave and around the basin showed that Alastor wasn’t there. It wasn’t anything new and Lucifer sighed in relief at knowing he wouldn’t have to disrobe in front of him.
The water was as clear as it always was, and a bit too chilled for his preferences as the dip of his hand told him but beggars couldn’t be choosers. He straightened up, glanced once more around him, and began pulling the shirt over his head. The necklaces dropped to his chest as Lucifer pulled the top off completely. He shivered at the bite of cold metal.
His bottoms quickly followed and Lucifer stood at the edge of the plunge pool in nothing but the jewelry that Alastor had decorated him with. The water lapped at his feet — soothing despite the temperature. Lucifer shuffled forward until it rippled around his ankles, lifting his hand to brush his fingers along his armband to take it off—
Something smooth wrapped around his waist and yanked him back from the water, the breath escaping his lungs with a wheeze as he collided with something solid — and furry. It was warm, seeping into his quaking muscles until they loosen unbidden against the source of heat. Lucifer’s eyes fluttered as his body relaxed… at least until something akin to a growl vibrated against his back.
“Do not go in the water.”
Any calm Lucifer may have felt shattered as he hastily pulled away from Alastor. He had never heard that tone from him before — gravely and sharp, sounding of nothing but danger. Fear shocked his system, cloying and paralyzing as he turned to face the beast.
Alastor’s ire wasn’t directed at him. Instead, his harsh scarlet gaze was stuck on the water as if something would leap out and snap at them.
Lucifer glanced back at the plunge pool. It was clear, no visible sign of life disturbing the sand that rested at the floor. There were smooth rocks and some aquatic vegetation that might hide a small fish but nothing big enough to cause harm.
He raised a brow. “What, can't swim or something?” The tease came naturally, as if it was something they had always done, and Lucifer felt his next intake of air catch in his throat.
But Alastor only huffed, rising on his hooves to approach the pool. His reflection was distorted in the surface of water, broken by ripples from the pleasant breeze that whispered through the basin.
“I can.” Alastor took a step back to throw a smile towards Lucifer. “You are so short you will probably drown.”
Any trepidation was quickly replaced with annoyance. He crossed his arms across his chest, scowling at Alastor whose shoulders shook with something that looked suspiciously like laughter.
“Yeah, real jokester we have right here.” Lucifer turned his gaze away. He was much less embarrassed about his nudity knowing Alastor was far more keen on making fun of his height than anything else. He wasn’t sure how to feel about that.
Lucifer took a step intent on finally getting a much needed bath when he felt a hand wrap around his wrist and tug him back. He stumbled, tripping over a rock until he landed hard on his ass with a wince.
Alastor loomed over him. His shadow cast a long stripe across the sand as his form blocked out the afternoon sun. His hand curled around Lucifer’s waist — warm and calloused yet undeniably gentle with his grip. When Lucifer looked up, Alastor’s grin filled his vision.
“Allow me, nin emel.”
The world around them stilled as Alastor leaned forward and Lucifer knew that this was it. This was when Alastor would finally turn him into the meal he had been delaying for reasons unknown. He’d feel those sharp fangs tear through his flesh and pull the meat of his muscles clean off his bones, blood dripping down his torso from the wound—
Lucifer blinked. There was a delay in the receptors of his brain: from the feeling of a cold, wet sensation against his cheek, to the signal of his nerve endings, to his brain to pick apart the meaning of what he was experiencing, and finally the recognition that he was being licked right now.
Licked.
Alastor’s tongue was against his cheek and dragged upwards into his hair leaving behind what Lucifer can only assume is spit.
He was stumbling out of Alastor’s grip just as his hand touched the side of his face with a grimace. When he pulled it back, a thick line of saliva followed the motion. In the light, it shone an almost purplish color.
“W-What…?” The question is pushed out of him, more of a squeak than an actual word yet Alastor seemed to understand what he was asking.
“If I groom you, there is no need for the water.” Alastor replies as if that passed as a normal answer and, inexplicably, Lucifer’s face grew hot at the notion.
“Yeah, no. That’s not happening.” Lucifer’s hands shot up to undo the clasp of his necklace and rid himself of the rest of his jewelry. He placed it neatly on his folded clothes — he didn’t want the gems to get scratched on the dirt — before he awkwardly rushed past Alastor to get to the water.
He did not want him seeing the frankly embarrassing reaction to that lick.
Seriously, Lucifer, who gets turned on by that?
The water was a much needed shock to his system, cooling the dubious warmth that settled low in his stomach. He didn’t waste a second to dip his head underwater and scrub the spit off his skin and out of his hair. Lucifer pushed back his hair as he came back up. He swore he would never take cleanliness for granted again.
He bathed in relative peace for a while. There were no soaps for him to wash with so Lucifer opted to just soak until the skin of his fingers began to prune. The water grew warm as his body adjusted to the temperature and the sun’s rays beating down on the surface made it all the more pleasant. Lucifer didn’t really want to get out.
“I believe you’ve bathed long enough.” Came Alastor’s voice to his left, tight and strained in a way he had never heard before. Lucifer’s eyes fluttered open and he watched, mystified, as Alastor paced along the edge of the water. His ears were tilted back and lowered against his head. His eyes followed Lucifer’s every move and despite the attention, Lucifer didn’t feel as if he were prey. No, it was almost… worried. Almost as if Alastor feared something would happen to Lucifer.
“Okay seriously,” Lucifer sighed, swimming towards the edge until his feet touched the bottom of the pool. The water reached his waist. “What’s your problem?”
Alastor’s movements halted and it appeared as if it took conscious effort for his ears to stand upright normally. Lucifer quirked a brow, drumming his fingers along his forearm as he waited. It was clear he wouldn’t come in the water himself and that knowledge gave him a little bit of confidence.
“The water isn’t safe.” Alastor repeated, crimson eyes scanning the area as if some hidden threat would pop out. Lucifer only rolled his eyes and sank to his knees until everything below his neck was submerged.
“Feels pretty safe to me.”
“Lucifer.” Alastor nearly whined, tail twitching agitatedly behind him. He reminded Lucifer of an upset cat with the way the longer fur along his back stood on end. It was almost, dare he say, cute.
“Hm, I don’t know.” Lucifer sighed, jumping up slightly to float on his back. “The water is warm. Don’t think I wanna get out right now.”
Not quite the truth, as the water was slowly growing colder the longer he stayed in, but Alastor growing more anxious was oddly endearing. Lucifer wanted to tease him just a bit.
Unfortunately, it seemed Alastor had a lot more to him than he let on. One moment, Lucifer was watching Alastor with glee and the next, he was suspended several feet above the water by what looked like shadows, only solid.
Lucifer didn’t even have time to properly freak out because seriously, what the fuck is happening? He was being deposited in Alastor’s awaiting arms with a rumbling that felt suspiciously like a smug purr.
The look on Alastor’s face only supported that.
“What was that, my dear?”
“Show off.” Lucifer blushed as he pushed himself out of Alastor’s embrace.
For a moment, Lucifer could almost forget what exactly Alastor was.
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Things were different after that. Alastor stuck around more and Lucifer found himself spending more time with the beast. The intimidating exterior Lucifer had convinced himself of slowly melted away bit by bit and what was revealed was something far softer.
Sort of.
Alastor was still savage against those he deemed deserved it — the times he came back covered in blood was proof of that — but with Lucifer, he was almost subdued.
He brought back soaps and fragrances after Lucifer made an off-hand complaint about feeling dirty. The food he brought back got more intricate as Alastor learned Lucifer’s tastes, and the clothes he was given were higher quality in a way that Lucifer knew Alastor had robbed a richer individual. How they always fit him perfectly was beyond Lucifer’s comprehension.
The most interesting development was their conversations. At some point, Lucifer’s reservations had made way for his natural curiosity, something that Alastor only spurred on. He answered any questions Lucifer had, whether it’s about the forest or what he was. In turn, Lucifer opened up about his dreams.
And that’s how Lucifer had come into possession of carving tools and a slab of marble.
Just like everything else, Lucifer was desperate to know how Alastor had gotten hold of these as marble was only found in the central Kingdom. He was touched, his heart squeezing painfully at the thought of Alastor risking his life in order to make Lucifer happy.
Lucifer, who had been nothing but resentful and difficult since he had woken up however long ago. Lucifer, who didn’t deserve the kindness that Alastor was giving him and especially not the gifts he was being showered with.
Lucifer, who decided that he wanted to give Alastor something too.
All of his injuries had long since healed and Alastor had informed him he would be gone most the day to resolve a dispute amongst some of the wolf packs in the forest. He wasn’t sure when he’d get a chance like this again.
It was dangerous and impulsive but Lucifer needed to do this. With one last glance back at the cave that had grown warmer with each passing night, Lucifer slung the leather satchel over his shoulder and began climbing the walls that surrounded the basin. If all went according to plan, he’d be back before Alastor realized he was gone.
He could only hope Mother Nature would find in herself to bless Lucifer with protection. Little did he know how much he’d need it.