First came the noise; a jumble of voices crashed into Desa's ears as she fought to gain consciousness. Next came the pain. It felt like an ocean of it was trying to drown her under strong waves. Her senses were working overtime to catch up to the stimuli crashing into her. Her face was against a hard surface and her leg was making her groan. The only reason she wasn't screaming at the pain was that her vocal cords hadn't fully woken up yet.

She tried to open her eyes but the lids felt like iron weights were holding them down. She tried to move her arms, her legs, any part of her but her whole body felt like lead. She would've went back to sleep if it wasn't for the incessant rumble of foreign voices all around her. It was almost deafening. With great difficulty, Desa blinked open her eyes.

Or more like one eye. Her left eye refused to open, it was swollen shut and it throbbed. Her face was lying down on a hard wooden table on her cheek, she gave out a groan as she lifted her head from it.

Lord of the Fae, every nerve and muscle ending screamed at her to stop moving. As she leaned back to look around, she blinked her right good eye so it would clear the blurry grogginess she felt. She just wanted to stop waking up in pain at this point.

As Desa looked around, she realised why the noise had woken her up, there were a lot of people around. Sitting at tables and booths, on the stools, standing idly by. It took her a minute to realise that she knew this place. She was in Tilly's Tavern.

Bringing up a hand to cover her eyes, and rub her face, she winced as she felt pain radiating from her closed shut left eye and lip. She pulled back her hand to look down. She had a split lip which was also still bleeding a bit.

Closing her eyes, Desa leaned her head back in the booth she was sitting. The last thing she remembered was extreme pain and burning. Freyt and Zekla standing over her as they dealt out her punishment for once again trying to get out of the enchantment Sontarro had placed on her.

Desa looked around the dimly lit tavern with a spinning head. Her punishment must've been over. Freyt usually carried her out of Sontarro's lair. He sometimes deposited her at her house. This time he apparently had chosen the tavern. Maybe he thought she could need a strong drink after the past three days. This was probably the twisted orc's way of saying sorry. Not that he would really be sorry. He enjoyed fighting and the sight of blood to much to feel remorse.

Desa scooted over to the edge of the booth to get out. She turned her legs to the side and stood up. As soon as she put her weight down on her left leg, an immense pain shot up from her spine and she stumbled. She held on to the wooden table to prevent herself from falling down. Looking down at her legs, she saw that her left one was bandaged up from her ankle to thigh.

Her pant leg was cut off like a short, reminding her of the burning pain Zekla had dealt. Desa tried to step on her left foot again. As soon as she tried to put a bit of weight on it, a scream rose up her throat that she had to swallow down. Her thigh was in agony. Bringing her left hand, which she realised was also bandaged, down over to the pain, she didn't feel any open wounds. The skin was sensitive to the touch and she would definitely see fresh blisters from the recent burns she got but it didn't explain the pain.

Freyt was stepping down on her leg to hold it down. That was the last thing she remembered. With a defeated sigh, she realised he must've put too much force behind his foot and broken her femur.

The left side of her body looked like it needed spare parts, from the bandaged burn marks of her left leg and broken femur to her cut up hand also bandaged and her swollen shut eye. Desa also felt bruises on her abdomen, ribs and guts; the traumatised skin making itself known whenever her chest expanded for a breath.

Her vision was still not fully back, and the headache behind her eyes making her temples throb let her know that the concussion was still in effect. She just wanted to lay down and close her eyes in hopes that the pain radiating from all over her body would dissipate in time. Too bad Freyt had chosen to dump her in the tavern like a passed out drunk.

Gingerly stepping on her left toe to not put too much strain on her leg and then immediately alternating to her right leg, Desa stumbled forward. She looked like a cripple without a clutch and she had to ground her molars hard to stop herself from wincing as every movement and step forward sent a jolt of pain to her brain.

Desa made sure the hood of her top was low to hide her face as she half dragged half hopped her way to the bar. While she was here, she might as well get a drink to numb the pain, then she could crawl back to her empty apartment and pass out.

When she finally reached her usual stool at the dim corner of the bar, she dragged the stool back and lifted herself on it. She couldn't stop the wince that came out of her as her broken leg bent in an uncomfortable angle. She slid forward in the seat so her left leg could mostly stand straight down and not hurt like it was getting ripped off.

When she settled in, Desa lost a long breath. Moving over from one end of the room to the other had taken too much effort, sweat had already formed on her forehead.

A form walked over to stand before her on the other side of the bar. Desa looked up to see Mac's green face with his chipped off tusk. His bushy eyebrows rose as he regarded her face. "You look even worse than before. Got yourself in a fight you couldn't win?" His deep accent rumbled from his chest.

Desa didn't feel like talking with the constant throb of pain behind her eyelids but she sighed defeatedly as she looked down at the bar under her hands. "You could say that." She was just so tired.

"Well..." Mac said as he cleaned his big hands on the skirt of his dirty apron. "I always tell you how you should just stop looking for trouble. It's bound to happen if you keep stirring up fights."

Desa couldn't tell him that the state of her face wasn't because of a poorly chosen bar fight opponent, the enchantment wouldn't allow her to explain, nor did she have the mental strength to try to come up with words to even relay why she wasn't at fault here. So she just slightly nodded her head and said, "Yeah I should probably stop looking for trouble." Too bad it always ended up finding her anyway.

Mac pursed his lips together, his mouth not fully closing because of his big tusks protruding out from his lower jaw. Everything about his facial expression said that he didn't believe she would stop looking for trouble but he didn't say anything. He just bent over to grab something below the bar and then straightened back up.

He placed down a glass and a bottle of liquor down before her. Desa nodded in thanks as she pulled the bottle and the glass to herself with her hands. She uncorked the green bottle and poured some of the dark honey coloured liquid in the glass. Then she placed the bottle back down and grabbed the glass in her right hand, sipping the sour tasting liquid.

It burned her throat and split lip as it went down, a welcome pain if enough of it would work to numb the rest of her pain. Desa looked up to see Mac was still standing before her, watching her.

He seemed to be looking at the left side of her face. Desa glided her nails across the cool surface of the glass as she asked, "What is it Mac?" He usually would leave her be when he served her.

"You want some frozen meat for your face?" His deep voice asked. It wasn't like him to ask to help her, he would usually just reprimand or tease her whenever she stumbled in here after a fight or caused a fight right here. Maybe her slumped shoulders signalled her defeat, or how her one open eye showed how tired of trying she was that Mac offered her a kindness.

One corner of Desa's lip lifted just an inch in an effort to smile in gratitude. She shook her head. "No thanks Mac, I'm pretty sure this is going to help me more than that." She said as she lifted the glass to drink some more. She sighed after she swallowed her mouthful. "Besides," Desa placed her glass back down on the bar, "I don't want my face to smell like the meat of the poor animal you serve up here."

Mac's shoulders gave a shrug as he snorted in dry amusement. "You know the raw meat smell would be a blessing compared to what you've got going on right?" He said.

Desa looked down at her dirty clothes which was probably covered in blood, grime, and a million other things and nodded. "You're probably right." She said.

Mac rubbed a hand over his bald head, he looked like he was uncomfortable with her agreeing with him at his jab for an insult. Desa was just not in the mood to act like her uncaring sarcastic self, she was too tired and too much in pain.

Mac averted his eyes and caught someone else waving him over for drinks. He took off to serve the other patrons and Desa was alone to stare at her drink which she twirled between her fingers. She preferred to be alone. As soon as she thought that, she knew it wasn't true. She didn't want to be alone, but this was much easier than being in the company of people she couldn't fully open up to.

A throb of pain on her left leg brought flashes of Zekla burning off her skin. Desa wondered what her leg would look like after she took off the bandages. It couldn't be worse she guessed. The limb was already grotesque looking to begin with, what was more scars? Even as she lied to herself, she knew deep down that she would hate what she would see in the mirror the next time she braved to stand in front of it.

Closing her eyes, she downed the rest of her glass before filling it up again. She had checked, she had a full pouch of coin on her belt. Sontarro had paid her for completing the job. The notion of the job brought forth even more torturous images into her mind of her stabbing Aksel. She shook her head in a desperate attempt to get rid of them.

She would seek out Mihram. He would kill her. She just needed to be able to walk over to the harbour and surely he would do the rest when he saw the face of the killer of his friend. She considered going there now, but it would take her a while to drag herself there with the broken leg and it was already very late. Tomorrow she promised.

A plate slid in front of her. Desa looked up to see Mac's face. "You should eat something." He said as he jutted out his big chin in the plate's direction before turning around and leaving.

Desa looked down at the loaf of bread and roasted meat at the side. Her stomach decided to grumble in appreciation making her realise just how hungry she had been. She reached over and picked the loaf as she layered the bits of roast and bit into it. Not really tasting the food.

She didn't care for the sustenance, but still hoped that it would help to ease her headache. Her plate was empty before she realised and she continued to drink. Her earlier glass was already starting to work on alleviating her mind in a haze since she had been drinking on an empty stomach.

Desa didn't know how long she sat there drinking and staring off to space but her bottle was almost empty. This was her last glass, and then she would force herself to go to the loneliness of her home.

"Desa." Her name was spoken to her right. Not as a question but a statement. Like she had been and would forever be. She knew that deep smooth voice. It belonged to the only one she wanted to touch but could never get close to.

Aksel.

The fact that Desa had heard his voice, saying her name made all the hairs rise on her skin. All she wanted to do was whip her head around and see with her own eyes that he was alive. She had to grip the edge of the bar with both of her hands to stop herself from turning around.

She kept her gaze on the half empty glass before her with great concentration like her life depended on it. From the corner of her eye, she could see movement as a tall body stood next to the bar to the right of her, with exactly three steps between them.

"I have been looking everywhere for you." Aksel said, his hand was lying flat down on the top of the bar, he was standing, his body calling for her to look at like a magnetic force pulling at her. It was almost excruciating to defy it. Her heart had decided to pick up speed, quickening her breaths. Aksel is here. He is alive and here. Desa kept repeating to herself. Like her mind was having a hard time trying to catch up to the fact.

She hadn't killed him.

She hadn't killed him.

Yet.

And just like that, a bucket of icy cold water rushed over her head. The sight of blood, so much blood as she stabbed his chest came back to her. She had stabbed him. Pulled out her dagger and lodged it into his chest. Her shoulders wanted to cave in around her chest at the crumbling pain she felt inside her ribs. She had almost killed him because she had wanted to stay with him. When he'd said he understood she wasn't in control, that they would find a way out of this, it was too much of a temptation to walk away.

So she had stayed and almost killed him. As soon as they got closer again, she would attack him again. The initial order for the enchantment was still standing, she hadn't managed to kill him.

Desa refused to hurt him anymore than she had already did.

"Where were you?" Aksel's voice asked.

Desa's eye softly closed as she tried to imprint the soft decadence of his voice or the warmth her body felt at his close proximity. She gave herself a moment to savour those feelings before she tilted her head down to further hide her face from him.

"I was here drinking. My job was done." Her empty voice replied. Her hands were still gripping the old cracked wood just to have something to ground herself with.

Desa saw Aksel try to tilt his head to the right to look behind her hood but Desa just turned her head more to the left to avoid his gaze. "It wasn't your fault. I know it wasn't. I should've called out to you instead of coming to you. It wasn't your fault what happened."

Desa bit down on her tongue to stop the swirl of emotions from rising up. How did he always know just what to say to demolish her walls? How did he find the weakest brick in her defences to turn her into dust? She wanted nothing more than to believe his words but she knew how it had felt to push that blade into his chest and she wouldn't forget that feeling for the rest of her life.

Desa could see his tanned hand splay out on the top of the bar like he ached to reach over and grab her to turn her around and was barely holding back. "Come back home so we can continue searching for a way to get you out of this."

Home.

The simple four letter word rang out in her heart like a hammer nailing the word into her heart. Her eyes burned and she squeezed them shut. She knew he probably didn't mean it the way her heart wanted to believe he did but that house she had stayed in for just a handful of days had become more of a home for her than he could ever understand.

"You should go." Desa's gravelly voice ground out. She was doing everything in her power to not face him, because she knew that as soon as she did, she would lose the internal battle she had.

"Not without you." Aksel's deep voice replied. The conviction and promise of that sentence made an involuntary shiver run down her spine.

Why couldn't he just leave her alone? Run away from her like everyone else? Didn't he realise how hard it was for her to stay away from him? To protect him from herself.

Desa shook her head, not trusting herself to speak out-loud. Her hand had started to tremble from how hard she was gripping the bar.

"Look at me Desa." His deep voice commanded. Her body was having an internal conflict with it. All her heart wanted to do was give in and gaze upon him while her mind screamed at her to run away from him.

"No." Her voice trembled.

"Look at me." Aksel said.

Desa was continuously shaking her head now as the trembling spread from her hands to the rest of her body.

"No." Her broken voice was a raspy whisper barely audible over the ruckus of the busy tavern.

"Look. At. Me." Aksel said.

Desa's trembling body snapped as she turned around to face him and yell, "I can't!". Desa felt the moment her heart collapsed on itself like a dying star at seeing his handsome face, his disheveled dark navy hair falling over his forehead and his button up shirt open to show bandages going over his chest, where Desa had stabbed him. He looked like he was worn out but still breathtaking, the most mesmerising sight that she had ever seen.

She saw the moment his gaze fell on the left side of her face, the pupils in his gray eyes widening and his jaw clenching. Desa saw the right hand he had on the bar curl up as he raked his hand down across its surface like he was skinning the wood.

She could've sworn that all the liquid in the tavern in a bottle, a glass or a soup bowl trembled as he fisted his hand. His intense gaze bore into her skin, leaving a mark everywhere he looked.

Desa knew what he was seeing. Her left eye swollen shut, bruised in an unpleasant purple, her cheek probably the same and her lower lil busted open. Her whole body was still vibrating with tension as a menacing tone rose up from Aksel's chest that could freeze over even the hottest deserts, "Who did this to you?"

Took to long to sit down and write this chapter.

Hope you liked it!

Let me know what you think ❤️