She jerked awake as she was falling, her arms flailing. She looked around, bewildered and muddled by sleep. Wren was an imposing figure standing over her from where he dropped her on the couch. His thick arms were crossed, and his wings were tight against his back and primly arched. The living room lights made the scales on his face shimmer beautifully.
They were in her living room.
Wren was in her living room.
She didn't remember the hike back to her house. She flushed red when she realized that she had fallen asleep. She was lulled to sleep in the arms of a dragon, and he carried her home. Her life was bizarre.
She hoped she didn't drool on him. Maybe she did drool on him, judging by how hard he was glaring at her. She tried not to get distracted by how prettily his scales reflected the living room light.
"You're in my house."
His glare deepened, causing the iridescent scales across his brow ridge to ripple.
"Do you want something to eat?" She guessed. He had to want something if he was in her living room.
He clenched his jaw. His sharp incisors peeked out between his lips. It should be intimidating. She found it adorable, like a little bat.
"Do you want me to heal you?" She tried again. She remembered the damage to his wings. He might have other injuries she couldn't see.
"Heal yourself first, you little twit." He said with a sneer.
She looked down at her foot, which was still very much broken. The spelled bandages did a good job of blocking out the pain, but the swelling was obvious.
"You want me to heal myself," She said slowly. "Then I can heal you?"
He gave her a heated look but didn't say anything. She was taking that as a yes. She pushed off the armrest of the couch and balanced herself on her good leg. She needed to get to her workshop. She got up and took a tentative hop in the right direction, and immediately lost her balance and started pin-wheeling her arms to stay upright. She heard a deep sigh before strong hands grabbed her and swung her up into his arms. Again.
His body was warm and solid. This close, she could see that his feathers weren't just an intense black, but had the same dark irradiance shine to them. He smelled like everything she loved about the forest. The earthy, woodsy, and herbal aroma of the outdoors. His scales were even more beautiful up close. She didn't pay enough attention to them the first time. They scaled up his neck like dark ivy. They stopped below the sharp jut of his chin and continued as a galaxy across his strong cheekbones.
"Are you going to tell me where I'm going, or do you need more time to stare at me?" He rumbled.
She met his gaze. His storm-blue eyes didn't seem angry. She pointed over to where the open living room met the kitchen. "It's through that hallway."
He held her tight while he walked; she hardly felt the motions. She guided him down the hallway to her workroom. He curiously looked around the large room. She wanted to see it through his eyes. Did it remind him of the witches that hurt him? She pointed to the space at the apex of two large windows. The sun had started to set. Splashes of orange and red painted the sky.
He set her gently on her good foot. She used his arm for balance as she took a couple of steps over the bookcase that held her spelled canvases. Mallow had a plethora of ready-to-go spellwork inked onto thick canvas. They were spells she used frequently and didn't feel like writing out every time she needed them. She also had spells ready to go in case of an emergency. She had them rolled up and labeled on the shelf. She also had commonly used ingredients, ointments, and elixirs on the same shelf. Everything else she might need was housed nearby in large cabinets.
She found the spell that worked well on broken bones. She rolled it out on the ground. Rolled up with it were lamented instructions for the spell. Each spell was unique. Some had a ritual that accompanied it: repeat this phrase five times, perform unclothed under a full moon, drink this tonic, and use this plant.
She grabbed the coordinating tonic and lowered herself to the ground. She removed the enchanted bandages and set them aside. She reached over and grabbed wipes from the bottom shelf. She meticulously cleaned the ointment, dirt, and blood off her foot. Her skin had started to bruise and swell. She arranged her foot in the middle of the intricate, intersecting pattern of spellwork.
Wren was crouched down intently watching her as she uncorked and drank the tonic. She didn't need the laminated instructions; she was very familiar with the spell. She repeated the spell's trigger words clearly three times. The lines of spellwork on the canvas glowed indigo, and she could feel the magic from the spell reaching out and intertwining with her own. All spelled magic felt different. This magic was warm, straddling the border of pain, like skin burnt from the sun. She heard a small intake of air next to her, but she stayed focused on the magic. It heated the skin of her foot and wrapped around the break. The swelling receded, the bruising lightened up, and the spellwork dimmed back to black swirls and symbols on the canvas. She rotated her ankle and flexed her foot. It twinged with a slight ache. The spell sped up the natural healing process, but her ankle would be sore as if it were a break fresh out of a cast.
She looked back at Wren. He looked spellbound and wind-torn. His face was in open awe, like a child witnessing something magnificent for the first time. Suddenly and intensely, her heart ached for him. He was like a child in awe of something beautiful. He had been hurt by magic, dark, ugly, twisted magic. She wondered if he had ever experienced clean, white magic before. It was a wondrous thing to be in the presence of. She slowly got to her feet. She held her hand out to him. He slipped his hand in hers, so obviously careful with his sharp talons. His hand was warm as sunbaked stone. He made no move to get up. He studied her with such an openly haunted look that her eyes teared up.
After a few minutes, he silently rose. She didn't drop his hand but gripped it tighter. Quietly, she guided him to one of the spare rooms near hers. She left him there, standing in the middle of the room, and hoped he would still be here when she awoke.
—------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Mallow rose before the sun. She was too excited to sleep. Wren was in her house. She took a hot and fast shower. She absolutely did not stop by his closed door on her way downstairs. She was dedicated to respecting his boundaries and standing with her ear to the door listening for his breathing, but it would be creepy. She didn't want to give him any reason not to trust her.
She wanted him to feel comfortable and safe here.
She wanted him to stay.
So, she pointedly headed downstairs. She made herself some coffee, grabbed a blanket, and headed outside to watch the sunrise. She plopped down into a lounge chair and enjoyed the darkness.
As a little kid, she was terrified of the dark. Her parents were relentless with her, even as a child. The dark was always the unknown, the unseen, and it scared her. She knew better than to go to her parents about it. They did not respond well to weakness. Instead, she went to her brother. One of the first spells she learned was one that created and manipulated light. He would cast a soft glow across his bedroom ceiling or make stars of light fall around the room.
Now that she was grown, she found peace in the dark right before sunrise. There was no unknown here. Nothing in her forest could hurt her. She liked to sit and watch the forest wake up. She could hear squeaking in the distance, the bats on their way back home. She would often see opossums or raccoons scuttering back to their dens. She liked to watch the horizon get lighter as day dawned. Mallow stayed out there a while, watching the sky steadily get brighter.
There was still no sign of Wren when she came inside. She did her best to kill time without going outside. She worked for an hour on some of her products. She was too antsy to concentrate. She couldn't see the stairs or the living room from her workroom. He could leave, and she wouldn't know until it was too late. She relocated to the living room and did some technical work she had been neglecting. Magic in this day and age operated mainly through word of mouth. It was hard to advertise when living among humans. The owner of the shop in town, where she sold her beauty and health products, knew she was a witch. She had the witch's symbol at the corner of the window and again by the register. The symbol was very distinct: a square with an X running corner to corner, with a line down the middle. If someone needed magical services, they could fill out a request form, which would be forwarded to Mallow.
Mallow had a good following at the local farmers' market, where the symbol was used, and she featured it on her online store. Overall, both her magical and non-magical businesses were thriving. She also received a government stipend for her care of the state park. The government was in everyone's business, including the magical community.
She answered the requests she had received for magical services. Most of them were reasonable, but others were outrageous. She was always shocked at the things people would ask for. Revenge, curses, murder, people had no shame in asking for what they wanted. She made several consultations for the next week, none of which requested bodily harm.
Mallow was eating breakfast at the kitchen island when Wren came downstairs. He moved silently through the living room. She didn't notice him until he was in the kitchen with her. Shocked by his sudden appearance and by the excitement that he was finally awake, she was slack-jawed and frozen. He gave the kitchen a courteous look over before looking at her. His aristocratic nose was scrunched up in distaste, and his lips were pulled into a mild sneer.
Her head was overcrowded with all the things she wanted to say to him. She'd be thinking about it all morning. She came up with list after list of reasons why he should stay with her. She had practiced exactly what she was going to say to him to convince him to make this his home. But now that he was here in front of her, she was speechless. Her mind screamed at her to say something.
"Stay." She blurted out. It wasn't elegant, but it was to the point.
His brows arched up, causing his scales to catch the light.
"Stay here with me." She clarified, her voice calm and confident, even as she felt like a nervous wreck.
He regarded her critically for a moment before struggling lazily. While the movement was aloof and his body was at ease, she could see the tension in his wings. They were wrought with energy. His feathers were raised and ruffled like an alley cat in a fight.
"Okay."
She felt a sharp burst of joy. "Okay? Okay, you'll stay?"
He nodded. "I'll stay, for now at least. But remember hallow-"
"Mallow." She interrupted.
"I've killed a lot of witches. Witches who were more powerful than you. Don't get any ideas about using me for your magic. I'd kill you before I'd let that happen."
She nodded eagerly, completely ignoring the blatant threat to her life. "I won't intentionally cause you harm, I swear it!"
He didn't look entirely convinced, but his wings smoothed out and sat at ease against his shoulders. Mallow was absolutely beaming. She took a bite of her forgotten yogurt and hummed happily. Now she just needed to convince him to let her help heal his wings.
Wren snatched the spoon out of her hand and took a bite of her yogurt. She was shocked for the second time that morning. His face instantly scrunched up in disgust.
"Gah! That's abhorrent." He said, throwing the spoon down on the island.
She pointedly picked it up and took a bite, giving a 'hmm' in delight. "It's yogurt."
"It's swill." He said primly, his fangs still bared in apparent disgust.
She tried not to laugh at him. He was quite adorable for a supposed witch killer. She pushed her tumbler of iced coffee toward him. "Try this."
His eyes narrowed suspiciously at her. He gave it a sniff before taking a sip. His eyes widened, then he made a clicking sound in his throat. He looked at the cup in awe before taking a longer drink. This was the most at peace he had been since she met him, sitting in her kitchen, falling in love with iced coffee.
"This is enjoyable. What is it?" He had both hands wrapped around the tumbler.
"It's iced coffee. You can have the rest of that. I can make another one."
He didn't say thank you, but his wings fluffed up. She walked behind him and started making herself another cup of coffee. She had seen his feather puffed up and ruffled before. His wings seemed to advertise his moods. When he was angry or tense, his wings puffed up, his feathers rose, and they took on a sharp quality. They didn't look like they do now. His feathers were slightly raised and fluffed up, but with a softer look to them. She liked it.
—----------------------------------------------------------------------------------
She spent the rest of the morning and part of the afternoon showing Wren around the house. She showed him the kitchen first. He had a basic understanding of technology and appliances. He got a quick rundown of how to use the microwave, oven, and stovetop. She showed him the fridge and pantry and encouraged him to eat whatever he wanted.
It took him longer to understand how to work the TV. He, of course, knew what it was and how it worked, but had no experience with the apps or streaming services TV had. She showed him on the big living room TV, then again on the TV in his room. She pointed out the other spare rooms in case he didn't like the one she put him in. He was shown the bathroom, the laundry room, the garage, and the basement, where she kept her canning supplies, an extra freezer, and other assorted junk.
After he was familiar with the inside of the house, she took him out to see the rest of her property. She showed him the small orchard and field of crops she grew. She pointed out where her beehives were. She introduced him to the chickens, but he was not impressed.
He was pretty quiet while she showed him around, but she could tell he was paying attention. He was looking around at the things she was pointing out. After the tour, she left him on the couch flipping through Netflix while she went outside to do some chores.