Tatiana wasn't sure how long they had been walking for when he stopped them to make camp on the river bank. She sat on the ground where he'd left her, listening as he collected wood for a fire around them.
She wrapped her arms around herself tightly, feeling ill at ease in her helplessness. At least when they had been with her other two captors, she'd had safety in numbers. As Bran moved about though, she had no one around to keep an eye on her and make sure she was safe.
Her anxieties dispelled when she heard Bran return, and she listened keenly to his movements as he started a small fire in front of them. She eagerly scooted closer to the warmth when the fire caught, warming her cold feet by its warmth.
"Here, eat these," Bran said, taking one of her hands in his. He carefully placed what felt like berries in her outstretched palm, before sitting next to her.
"Why are you being so nice?" Tatiana asked, popping one of them in her mouth. The berry burst between her teeth, squirting its sweet juices.
"I told you, can't have my hostage dying on me," he answered. "I'm counting on Robin caring enough about you that we can manipulate him into doing what we want."
Tatiana screwed up her face. "I don't think he cares about me that much, otherwise wouldn't he have tried to rescue me already?"
"Yeah, if he knew where you were. But you're in the fey realm, so all he knows is that you're in trouble. He doesn't know where you are. And he's cut off from the Woodlands, so his power is diminished."
"I don't understand, is he part of the Woodlands?" Tatiana asked curiously.
"Geeze, he really didn't teach you much about us. The Woodlands are part of him, more like. Most Archfey have their own dominion in the realm, and they store their power there."
"Archfey?" Tatiana's head swam with questions.
"Strong fey, with a lot of mortals indebted to them, or a lot of mortals that worship them," Bran explained patiently.
"Oh. Are you an Archfey?" Tatiana asked curiously.
Bran laughed. "No, I haven't been around long enough to get many mortals indebted to me."
She finished off the last of her berries, before resting her chin on her knees. "How long have you been around?" she asked.
"About a century, I reckon," he answered. "I missed the Golden Age for tricking mortals, and the Seelies have sealed off or guard most of the gateways."
Tatiana tried to digest everything he'd said. She felt clueless, and a little bit frustrated. There was so much she didn't know, and she was thrown into the middle of it all. A hint of anger to Robin crept inside her, frustrated that he'd seemingly 'claimed' her without her knowing, placing a target on her back.
A cool breeze swept over them, and Tatiana felt herself being transported to another time and place again.
She watched as the dark-haired man that she knew to be Bran stood protectively in front of her, his sword drawn in one hand. In front of them, an ugly being cackled. It had an old man's body, wizened and grotesque, but a large head with the features of a child. Their shadows were long in the setting sun, and she couldn't see the river anywhere near them.
"Begone," Bran bellowed. "This mortal is under my protection, and you will suffer my wrath if you harm her!"
"You claim this mortal when another already has?" the ugly man asked with a rasping voice.
"I do, and you know I am bound to protect her, so you best leave us, old man," Bran said, gripping his sword tightly. Tatiana's heart fluttered, and she swallowed nervously as she watched the scene unfold.
With a sinister cackle, the ugly man sprung forward, and the vision dissipated before she could see if Bran struck him down.
She was back at the campfire, once again blind, shivering in the cool wind. She blinked and wrapped her arms tighter around herself.
"What did you see?" Bran asked.
She turned her face in the direction of his voice. He was so close to her, she could feel his body heat emanating from him.
"I saw a man attack us," she answered, her voice tight. "A horribly ugly old man, with a child's face. It was in the late afternoon, what time of day is it now?"
"The sun has already set, we should be safe for tonight if your vision is accurate," he said reassuringly.
Tatiana nodded, and remained silent. She didn't speak of what she heard in the vision, of Bran claiming her. She wasn't sure if saying it would make it come to pass, or if telling him would avoid it.
After some time, she ventured a question. "Can a mortal be claimed by more than one fey?" she asked curiously.
"I've heard of it," Bran answered, his voice betraying a hint of surprise at her question. "It doesn't usually end well though, either for the mortal or for the fey involved."
She nodded, feeling a pit of dread in her stomach. His words were said pleasantly enough, but her vision made his words more ominous than he intended. She silently prayed that the events in her vision would not come to pass.
"You should sleep, mortal," Bran said, his voice softer. "We've got another long day of walking tomorrow."
--
Tatiana woke slowly, in a haze. She wasn't sure how she had ended up curled up against Bran's warm body, but at some point, during the night she must have rolled over to him. Her cheeks flushed as she realized one of his arms were wrapped around her. She shook herself mentally. He was her captor, he was the reason she was blind and sore. He captured her to use as blackmail material against Robin.
A wave of guilt washed over her as she thought of Robin, and of the visions she'd had of her future, and of how close Bran was to her. She swallowed nervously as she thought about carefully extracting herself from Bran's embrace. He was so warm though, and she felt safe in his arms. He'd already protected her once, and if her vision was to be believed he'd protect her again soon. Of course, she wouldn't need protecting if he hadn't have kidnapped her, she reminded herself. His breath was warm on her skin, as he inhaled and exhaled heavily, and she couldn't help but be reminded of the vision she'd had in the river of him leaning down to kiss her, his body pressed against hers much like it was now.
Her cheeks flushed red as she remembered that Robin had known when she was thinking about him, along with how she had been thinking about him. She stiffened, and gently tried to pry herself away from Bran. Her movements woke the fey, and he stirred next to her as he woke. He yawned sleepily, and then he pulled away quickly, as if he had realized his arm was around Tatiana.
"I'll be back with food," Bran said, jumping to his feet. His voice sounded funny, Tatiana wondered if he was embarrassed.
She just nodded mutely, wondering how red her own cheeks were. She listened to him walk quickly off into the forest, before picking up her stick. She needed to stretch her legs and relieve herself, and she didn't intend on doing that somewhere Bran could walk in on her.
She carefully pottered along the edge of the forest, using her stick to guide her as best she could. When she was reasonably sure she was somewhere safe, she relieved herself. She was desperate for a shower or a bath, but the thought of cleaning herself in the river sent a chill through her spine. She dreaded to think the undines were still there, lurking and waiting for an opportunity to pounce and drag her to the river's watery depths.
Tatiana stretched, before walking carefully back the direction she came. She was getting used to using the stick, and she was reasonably certain she had the right direction. She could hear the rushing of the river, and she could smell the burnt remnants of their fire from the night before.
She waited patiently, until she heard Bran walking back from the forest beside them. He gave her more of the berries they had eaten the night before, before leading her onwards.
They were quiet with each other as they walked, though her hand still rested lightly on his upper arm as he guided her. She was dying to ask him if he knew when she was thinking about him, but she didn't want to betray herself further. If she asked, then he would certainly know she had been thinking about him in a compromising way.
As the day wore on, she felt Bran growing tense under her hand. She was tense as well, as both of them waited to be assailed by the old man with the child's head. But the sun set, and they made camp with no sign of her vision. She let out a sigh of relief as Bran made camp, helping her drink water from the river without getting close enough to attract the attention of undines. They were quiet, barely speaking as they settled in for the night. Bran disappeared briefly to find food for them to eat, this time mushrooms he'd foraged. He'd only managed to keep his sword and some coins in his pocket when they went overboard, and he apologised for the scant meal. Tatiana was grateful when they went to sleep without much conversation.
They woke the next morning in each other's arms again, and Tatiana scolded herself mentally. She tried to reason it away, he was constantly warm, offering her protection against the cold night air. It made sense for them to sleep so closely, keeping each other warm with their body heat. She didn't have an explanation for why she felt so comfortable with his arm draped across her. Tatiana pushed thoughts of Bran out of her mind and tried to think of Robin. Robin, who'd claimed her without telling her, putting her in danger. Robin, who had tricked her into owing him favours after feeding her stew. Tatiana shook herself of that train of thought. It wasn't as if Bran was good for her either.
For the most part, the day passed on in silence. They stopped to rest occasionally, and again grew tense as the day wore on. In the afternoon, Bran stopped her.
"What's wrong?" she asked anxiously.
"There's a village up ahead," he replied, pulling her into the forest. "I think it's an Unseelie village, but I'm not sure. I'm going to fly ahead and scout it out. If it's safe, we can rest there tonight."
Tatiana nodded, as he guided her behind a tree.
"Stay here and be quiet," he ordered, before pressing the hilt of his sword into her hands. "If anything happens, swing wildly with this and hope that's enough to scare them off."
She heard a flurry of feathers beside her, and then Bran was gone. Tatiana held his sword in her trembling hands, her breathing heavy with nerves. Time seemed to crawl slowly by as she waited for Bran to return, every sound of the forest causing her to jump.
She was grateful when a small caw and flurry of feathers signalled Bran's return.
"It's a neutral village," Bran said, before she could ask if it was him. "They have a tavern we can stay at for the night, and hopefully find ourselves a horse to ride on."
Tatiana nodded, passing him back his sword. She heard him sheath it and took her gently by the arm. The thought of a tavern lifted her spirits. She wasn't sure if she should expect a proper shower, but anything sounded better than sleeping on the ground.
