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Wylder blushed as they took their time to admire each other in the candle light.
Ironeye obliged his request, burning a few more candles so the lighting was sufficient.
Ironeye smirked as Wylder took him in, really took him in. Ironeye's hair was silver, long, pulled back into a half ponytail that was a bit messy due to Wylder threading his fingers through it earlier. He truly was gorgeous. Wylder already knew he had the prettiest eyes, but the rest of his face was just as gorgeous.
He tried not to squirm as the archer did the same, removing his cape and gloves as those blue eyes roamed over him, cataloging everything about him. From his blond, shoulder length hair to his green eyes and fair complexion. Wylder only had a simple shirt and trousers, so his arms were on display. Ironeye seemed to take great interest them.
Wylder was strong, so he had ample muscle. Despite the scarred flesh of his left hand from years of using his explosive pike, he knew he was nothing to scoff at. He tried to keep himself well-rounded, and his body showed it. Even dying as he was, the years of honing his skills clearly still indicated his capabilities.
He knew the same could be said for Ironeye. While he was lean and lithe, Wylder could see the outline of muscle beneath his shirt. Wylder knew how to fire a bow, so he knew Ironeye's body was a testament to his skill. Corded muscle, strong shoulders and a strong back he couldn't wait to trace over. He couldn't wait for that lithe body to meet his eyes in all its beauty.
Ironeye quickly removed the rest of his armor and boots before smoothly climbing on the bed and over Wylder. Wylder parted his legs so the archer could settle between them.
Ironeye gently traced his cheek with a finger. “As I said, beautiful,” he muttered softly, making him blush harder.
“You're gorgeous yourself,” Wylder returned easily, gently taking Ironeye's hand and kissing his fingertips.
Wylder was right about Ironeye's hands: they were gorgeous. They were steady, firm from years of wielding a bow as skilled as he could. With long fingers and calloused fingertips and palms. His hands were veiny, disappearing up his shirt’s long sleeves.
He saw first hand just how fast the archer was. How dexterous. Those hands of his were the reason many met their end, and Wylder couldn't wait for them to be on him.
Ironeye's expression flickered between sweetness and hunger. Wylder looked up at him through his lashes, pleading for more.
Ironeye didn't breathe, but his breath still hitched as he laced their fingers together and pulled him into a sweet kiss. His free hand gently slid into his hair, and Wylder hummed as he pulled Ironeye closer by the shoulder with his free hand.
They stayed like that, memorizing the feel of each other's mouths and tongues until Ironeye shifted, pinned him down with their joined hand and rolled his hips with intent. Wylder gasped, entire body igniting in pleasure and hardening steadily between them. He could feel Ironeye harden as well, another well placed roll of his hips building the heat between them.
Wylder pulled at the archer's shoulder, who quickly got the hint, laying his weight on him fully before resuming his slow, unhurried movements, tongue exploring all the while. Wylder gripped his back firmly, trying to remember his strength but not wanting the archer to leave any time soon.
Wylder could feel pleasure building just beneath his skin. He wanted Ironeye. But he didn't want to rush this. He wanted to savor the archer, and it seemed Ironeye agreed.
Who knows when would be the next time they could enjoy each other?
All at once, Ironeye pulled back. Wylder whined, trying to keep him close as the archer released his hold on the swordsman. Ironeye chuckled at his eagerness. “I will. I want to unwrap you first. Let me?”
Ironeye spoke with such reverence, like he was a fine gift to be enjoyed. Wylder released him, nodding his consent. The archer made a pleased hum as he slid his hands under Wylder's shirt. His hands were cool, not unpleasantly so, since Wylder ran so warm due to his ailment.
“You're so warm,” Ironeye muttered, voicing his thoughts as he spread his fingers over the ridges of his abs. The heat in his core throbbed at the touch.
Ironeye made a move to pull off the swordsman's shirt, and Wylder scrambled to help him rid of the offending garment. Ironeye chuckled again. “Don't rush. I'm right here. You have me. Let me savor you. We've waited long enough, haven't we?”
Wylder nodded, his face heating even more. He wanted to savor Ironeye yes, but it seemed it was difficult to keep his yearning for the archer under wraps.
Ironeye rewarded him with a quick kiss. “Good boy.”
Wylder gasped at the praise. In Ironeye's deep, teasing voice, with the archer looking at him so open and mischievously, it made him melt.
Ironeye slowly ran his fingers over his chest and abs, palms grabbing at his pecs, fingers squeezing at his nipples and making him gasp and squirm. He ran his hands over his biceps, gently tracing over the scarring and squeezing at the muscle.
Ironeye certainly took his time admiring him, and Wylder did his best to be patient, tried to bite back his moans and keep his squirming to a minimum. It was difficult when even the archer's simple touch set his nerves alight with need.
“Be as loud for me as you want,” Ironeye encouraged softly, always reading him so well. “I want to hear you.”
Ironeye accentuated his point by giving Wylder's nipple a rough squeeze, and the swordsman couldn't stop the moan that tore out of his throat if he tried. The treatment sent lust up his spine, cock throbbing in his pants and eager for more of Ironeye’s ministrations.
“So receptive to my touch. You can touch me too, you know.” Ironeye said with a smirk. Wylder didn't even realize the death grip he had on the sheets below him. He pried his hands off of them, carefully pressing his palm to Ironeye's chest where his greatsword ripped through the assassin's shirt. His other hand slid lower, spreading his fingers and pressing against firm abs. Shyly, he ran his hands over the plains of Ironeye’s chest and abs before frowning. He wanted to feel Ironeye. He pulled at the shirt, trying to signal that he wanted it off.
A chuckle came from the archer as he paused his exploration and easily slipped his shirt off. Gods, his shirt didn't leave much to the imagination, but still seeing him without it was incredible. “Better? You could have ripped it off. I wouldn't mind.”
Wylder throbbed at the words, pressing his hands to Ironeye's chest. He could, easily. But he knew how meticulously the archer tended to his things. “Didn't want to ruin it.” He managed to mutter, once again letting his fingertips trace the archer, this time directly on his skin.
Ironeye's skin was soft. Had the assassin not told him of his true nature, Wylder would have never guessed. Unlike him, Ironeye didn't have many scars, a few of them faded with time. A testament to his skill.
Ironeye hummed distractedly, rubbing one of Wylder's nipples between his fingers. “That's too bad. I definitely want you to ruin me. Almost as much as I want to ruin you.” Wylder gasped at the words, then moaned as Ironeye ducked his head down and latched his mouth onto his other nipple.
Wylder moaned softly as the archer gently bit and sucked at the nub, squeezing and rubbing the other one all the while. Then he quickly switched, giving the other one the same treatment until Wylder was squirming below him, body seeking more friction.
Eventually Ironeye pulled away with a wet ‘pop’, grinning down at him and pulling him into a sweet kiss. Wylder melted at the kiss, humming softly as he wrapped his arms around the archer and kissed back. Shyly, he rolled his hips under Ironeye, heart pounding as he felt more than heard Ironeye's gasp and resulting thrust against him.
“So eager for me,” Ironeye muttered as he buried his head in Wylder's shoulder and slowly rolled his hips. The friction was maddening. Not enough but oh so wonderful as Wylder moaned. The idea of begging Ironeye to keep going and touch him, to let his hands wander lower, was sounding better and better.
They grinded against each other until Wylder was shaking with need. He needed more. He didn't want to rush it but he was getting desperate. Ironeye stopped suddenly, and Wylder whined loudly. Ironeye looked down at him with a smirk.
“I adore how needy you are Wylder. Do you want me to keep going?”
“Please…” Wylder whined, thrusting up to try and get some friction. Ironeye hummed, and Wylder wondered how he could be so composed still.
“I want to taste you,” Ironeye spoke instead, those blue eyes smoldering. “Can I?”
Wylder nodded quickly, unable to form words. He'd let Ironeye do whatever he wanted to him, so long as the archer was in his arms. Ironeye gave him a quick kiss before pulling at the swordsman's pants.
Wylder quickly obeyed, lifting his hips and helping Ironeye remove the final garment and undergarment on him. He quickly kicked them off, and he'd blush harder if he wasn't already red at how hard he was. His cock stood to attention, throbbing as it was exposed to the cooler air.
Ironeye hummed as he carefully wrapped one of those dexterous hands around his length, not moving, but just feeling it pulse in his cool palm. Wylder moaned at the feeling, doing his best to keep his hips still, fisting his hands into the sheets again. He didn't want to rush Ironeye but his sanity was quickly waning.
Ironeye moved his hand, spreading the pre that dribbled down Wylder's tip to make the slide easier. It would be merciful if it wasn't for how slow the archer's pace was. Wylder knew by the smirk that Ironeye was teasing him, but the swordsman suddenly felt his pride flare. He wouldn't beg if that was what Ironeye was trying to do. He could be patient. He could-
Ironeye tightened his hold as his hand slipped to the head of his cock, and suddenly begging seemed not too bad of an idea as Wylder moaned louder. Molten pleasure sat in his core as Ironeye skillfully teased him. He couldn't help but thrust up into the grip.
“Feels good?” The archer asked lowly. Wylder nodded, ducking his eyes from that intense gaze. Only to immediately get punished by Ironeye suddenly freezing his hand. Wylder whimpered, glancing back at the assassin, who made a pleased noise as their gazes met once again.
“Use your words, Wylder,” Ironeye said lowly, hand moving torturously slow once more. “How does it feel?”
Wylder swallowed, trying to collect himself. “Good,” he eventually panted out. He hated how breathless he sounded, but Ironeye seemed pleased by it, so he pushed on. “It feels good. I want-"
Wylder cut himself off with a shudder as Ironeye's hand suddenly squeezed at the head again before resuming it's leisure pace. This was torture in the best way. Ironeye was purposeful, pulling his body like the string of his bow. Wylder knew once he was satisfied, he'd let him release. But for now, Ironeye would enjoy Wylder to the fullest.
Wylder definitely had no objections.
“Maybe I should have taken you instead,” Ironeye spoke, tone full of reverence. He pumped Wylder's cock with a devious twist of his wrist that had the swordsman thrusting up into his grip with a gasp. “You're gorgeous. I wouldn't mind being full of you. I know you'll take care of me.” Ironeye repeated the motion to accentuate his point. Wylder moaned as he easily followed the motion, thrusting into the assassin's hand wholeheartedly, leaking steadily from his tip.
“You would like that, wouldn't you?” Ironeye asked playfully. Wylder could only nod, words escaping him. Ironeye hummed. “If we get the chance…if we get another chance. I'll gladly give you my body. I'll give you everything.”
The way Ironeye spoke the words, the soft tone, like a prayer he dared not wish but hoped for all the same, had Wylder looking at him openly. Even with the haze of lust, he could see something vulnerable in those gorgeous blue eyes. It was too late for him, but perhaps if he had another chance at life…
And then Ironeye was leaning up and pulling him in for a kiss and the thought was immediately pushed back. Ironeye took his time as he moved his lips to Wylder's jaw, kissing and sucking as he moved down to his neck. Over his shoulders and down his chest. Licking past his abs until the archer was sliding down his body and his mouth was level with his cock
Ironeye held him steady as he gave firm licks to the head of his cock, tasting him and making him moan softly. Ironeye savored the taste for a bit before switching so he was licking up the length of Wylder's cock, teasing the prominent vein on the underside.
Wylder turned his head to the side, eyes shut, forgetting Ironeye's earlier command. He was quickly reminded when Ironeye pulled back. A hand went to pry his grip on the sheets loose as Ironeye hissed, “Look at me, Wylder.”
Wylder pried his eyes open and did so, cock throbbing at the the wonderful sight below him. Quickly, Wylder tangled their hands together, the other hand releasing his tight hold to gently run through Ironeye's hair, grounding. Ironeye softened at the touch.
“Good boy. I want you to watch me pleasure you.”
Ironeye smirked as Wylder throbbed in his hand. Wylder nodded, and Ironeye quickly rewarded him by releasing his hand around him and swallowing down his whole length, nose hitting blond pubic hair.
Wylder moaned loudly, hand tightening in Ironeye's grip. Ironeye squeezed back, blinking up at him and allowing his throat a moment to adjust. Ironeye didn't seem to have a gag reflex, which, if Wylder had more blood in his brain, he could reason due to him being a walking corpse. But as the sight of Ironeye swallowing him down was obscene in the best way, Wylder could only throb in his cool, wet mouth and try not to end this too early.
The hand in Ironeye's hair remained tender, and Ironeye eventually pulled his mouth back with a gentle suck, mouthing at the tip of Wylder's cock before swallowing him whole again. Soon Ironeye was gaining a rhythm, and Wylder had to remind himself to be gentle.
It lasted seconds, as all it took was Ironeye pressing his tongue to the underside of his cock on the way back up to tighten his hold and thrust up into that cool wetness. Ironeye made a choking sound. Wylder immediately tried to loosen his hold, only for a moan to vibrate around his cock and Ironeye's mouth go slack.
Slowly, Wylder thrust up into Ironeye's mouth. The archer was watching him with a hungry gaze. When Ironeye made a pleased sound, Wylder kept going, trying to keep the roll of his hips gentle. He didn't want to hurt Ironeye despite how good it felt.
His peak built quickly, between watching Ironeye's lips stretched around him and how good it felt to thrust into his mouth, Wylder knew he wouldn't last. His eyes were watering from the strain to keep them open, fighting against the urge to close them. He didn't want to stop watching, and most importantly, he didn't want Ironeye to stop or get disappointed.
He couldn't get words past his lips, reduced to moans and whimpers and the grip he had on Ironeye's hand and hair. He tried to pull harder on Ironeye's hair in warning. The archer moaned around his length at the rough treatment, free hand flying to palm at the bulge in his pants.
Wylder's peak hit with sudden force. He whimpered as Ironeye once again took his throbbing cock all the way to the back of his throat, letting Wylder ride out his orgasm. Wylder let go of the archer as he panted, trying to regain himself. Ironeye gave him a smug look as he made a show of swallowing his seed and licking his lips. Coyly, the assassin leaned forward for a kiss, pressing his tongue against Wylder’s to allow the swordsman to taste himself.
Lust danced in his core once more and Wylder quickly flipped their positions, breaking the kiss and hovering over Ironeye, hungry for the assassin in a way he didn't think would ever be quelled. Surprise was brief on the archer's face before a smirk quickly replaced it.
“Eager, aren't we?” Gods, Ironeye's deep voice was even deeper, hoarse from it's use in pleasuring Wylder. He could already feel himself harden again from that alone. He wanted Ironeye. So much so, his normal reaction of shyness from the teasing was forgotten.
“I need to taste you. I'm tired of holding back." Ironeye's eyes widened at the statement. Then he smirked, trailing a hand over Wylder's chest.
“Go ahead. You can be rough with me you know. Don't hold back. Am I not your equal?”
The answer was easy. “You are. But you are also someone to be cherished, unlike any other.”
Again, a flicker of emotion crossed Ironeye's face. This time he didn't hide it, but allowed it to melt into something more tender. “Very well, do as you wish.”
Wylder immediately positioned himself and gave Ironeye's pants a gentle tug. The archer lifted his hips, allowing Wylder to remove the offending garment and leave him fully bare before his eyes.
The assassin seemed impressed by Wylder’s cock, but Ironeye's was just as beautiful. Wylder was thicker than him, but Ironeye was longer, veiny just as his arms were, with a neat patch of silver hair that he had to keep from burying his face in. Wylder salivated looking at it.
Ironeye's cock throbbed and Wylder glanced up to see Ironeye watching carefully. Wylder was sure he looked as ravenous as he felt, because Ironeye twitched again as their eyes met.
Deciding he held back enough, Wylder immediately took the head of Ironeye's cock into his mouth, licking gently at the slit and relishing in the gasp Ironeye couldn't keep down. Unlike Ironeye, he had a gag reflex, but Wylder was determined to take the archer fully. He licked at the head of Ironeye’s cock and pushed his mouth down deeper, pulling back to lick at him again and taking even more on his mouth. Wylder kept repeating the motion until eventually Ironeye's cock was nestled down his throat and he took a moment to adjust.
Ironeye's hand slipped into his hair in a gentle hold as Wylder enjoyed the taste and smell and feeling of Ironeye. His was a thirst that could never be quenched, and an obsession that would never waver. But he had the archer right here with him. And he would show with his body what words failed to express.
Wylder started a quick rhythm, making sure to control his breathing. He used his hand to aid the motions of his mouth. Saliva was quick to pool and dribble over. Wylder was sure he looked a right mess, but he found himself uncaring. He wanted to make Ironeye lose that steadfast composure, to watch him and feel him in the midst of pleasure.
He thought he would have had to coax it out of the archer, but the swordsman was pleasantly surprised when Ironeye responded in kind. Each suck earned him a moan, each lick a hiss and a thrust up into his mouth. Wylder knew he himself had been rather…enthusiastic with Ironeye's treatment of him. And while he would normally shy away from being so vocal, he was already dying. There was no point in holding back from how much he wanted the archer. Perhaps Ironeye was tired of holding back as well, and the reactions fueled his need to see him writhe and hear him cry out and to simply have the archer.
Ironeye's release built rapidly, and soon he was yanking Wylder's hair in warning. Wylder doubled his efforts, wanting to throw back Ironeye's words to be as rough as he liked, but his mouth was otherwise occupied.
Ironeye moaned loudly, and his voice was wonderfully wrecked as he encouraged Wylder. “Good boy. Yes, just like that. I'm almost-”
The rest of the praise turned into sweet moans as Ironeye peaked. Wylder hummed as seed splashed onto his tongue and down his throat, forcing himself all the way down and working his throat so he didn't miss a drop. Surprisingly Ironeye wasn't as salty as he expected, perhaps another side effect of being undead. But it was still pleasant, and Wylder held his breath as he allowed Ironeye to finish twitching down his throat until he softened slightly.
Wylder pulled back with a gasp, quickly wiping off the excess drool. Ironeye was quick to pull him up into a kiss that had his gut churning and cock twitching, all teeth and tongue and panting into each others mouths. Wylder felt Ironeye shift, and soon they were switching positions again, so Wylder was the one on his back once more and Ironeye was between his legs.
Wylder shifted to get on his hands and knees, but Ironeye stopped him with a hand on his stomach. “I want to watch you. I want you to take me like this. Let me?”
Wylder's blush had subsided some as he pleasured Ironeye, but it returned full force at the request. Still, he nodded, not against the idea but shy all the same. He was rewarded with a quick kiss before Ironeye seemed to remember something and stood, leaving Wylder to whine as he was left alone in the bed. The archer was quick to return however, and Wylder noted the bottle of oil in his hand.
Anticipation went through him as Ironeye lathered his fingers liberally. Ironeye smirked at him. “Relax for me.”
Whatever cheeky reply he came up with was lost as he felt a finger press against his entrance. Wylder forced his body to relax, trying not to squirm under that intense gaze. A small bit of pressure and the finger was slipping in, searching with every gentle pump in and out.
Soon enough a second finger pushed in with the first. The stretch stung, but Wylder knew it was temporary. And to prepare him for what was to come. Ironeye paused as both fingers were pushed to the knuckle within him, gauging his reaction. When Wylder gave an impatient clench, Ironeye moved again, scissoring his fingers while pumping them and angling them with purpose.
After a few moments the stretch became easier, and Ironeye continued his leisure pace until he crooked his fingers just right and Wylder was suddenly seeing stars. A low moan was startled out of his chest, and Ironeye smirked down at him.
“Found it.”
Wylder couldn't respond as Ironeye aimed and pressed his fingers against his spot deliberately. The swordsman could only moan, hips greedily trying to get more of the feeling and thrusting up into Ironeye's hand.
The archer pressed down on his stomach, firmly anchoring himself and Wylder, before pumping his fingers once more, this time zeroing in on that spot inside Wylder that had him so close again. Tears trickled Wylder's eyes as he clenched the sheets besides him in a tight fist, trying not to end so quickly but it was impossible to fight against the pleasure Ironeye was bestowing upon him.
The archer was watching intently, fingers confident and purposeful as they mercilessly rubbed his spot and had him going higher and higher, clenching around them greedily. His peak was rapidly approaching. He didn't even need Ironeye do touch his cock. A little more. He just needed a little more and he would-
Wylder whined loudly as Ironeye suddenly pulled his fingers out and the peak of his pleasure subsided. His cock throbbed angrily at being denied, and he shot the archer a pleading look. It quickly changed to anticipation as he watched Ironeye pour more oil on his hand and slick his cock, those blue eyes pinning him in place.
Ironeye wasted no time in lining himself up and pushing in slowly, teasing gone in place of desperation. Both hands steadied on his hips, Ironeye carefully pushed until the head of his cock pushed through the tight ring of muscle. Wylder made a punched out sound, feeling the sweet stretch and his body slowly fill with the archer. Ironeye froze, grunting when Wylder gripped his shoulders tightly and tangled their legs, silently begging him to keep going.
Ironeye watched carefully, pushing in at a slow, controlled pace. Once he was half way in, he pulled back, cock sliding out to the tip, before gently pushing back in. Wylder moaned at the feeling. Ironeye did it again, and again, slowly going in more and more until their hips were flushed together and Wylder was overwhelmed with the wonderful feeling of being full.
Ironeye panted in his ear a moment, allowing him to adjust. There was a strain in the archer's arms, though his expression was carefully neutral as he watched the swordsman's every reaction.
He was making sure he was ok, Wylder realized through his needy state. Wylder gathered himself enough to nod. Ironeye hummed, leaning down and kissing Wylder. Their tongues slipped into each others mouths, and Wylder gasped as Ironeye's hips slowly began to move.
Ironeye's pace was unhurried, instead he moved deeply, stealing Wylder's breath with every thrust. Ironeye soon was shifting, angling his hips and easily finding the spot he found with his fingers earlier. Wylder let out a loud moan, clenching tightly around the archer and tightening his hold on him.
“There! Please, Ironeye!”
Ironeye broke the kiss to absently mouth at his neck, letting out a soft moan of his own. He aimed his hips and set that same, unhurried pace. Wylder could feel pleasure mounting quickly. Each thrust was aimed true, Ironeye’s cock bulling deep within him like he always belonged. The smell of the archer was overwhelming, encompassing his senses. He could feel the archer's cool body against his own, flexing, moving. And that sharp gaze, even with pleasure blurring his vision, Wylder could feel those keen blue eyes watching his every reaction, drinking in his every moan.
Wylder eased one of his hands to fly to his own cock, knowing his pleasure was about to peak. He whined when he was intercepted, Ironeye quickly releasing one of the hands on his hips to snatch the swordsman's hand quickly, threading their fingers together and pinning it down.
Ironeye's pace moved a bit faster, his hips moved a little harder. “I want you to lose it just like this,” Ironeye panted in his ear. “From just me. Can you do that for me, Wylder?” The sound had Wylder shivering. He probably could, he was so desperate for it it probably wouldn't take much longer. He nodded, earning a raspy “good boy,” from the archer.
They were both getting close. Wylder tightened his grip on Ironeye's hand in warning, moans getting louder. He clenched and Ironeye's hips stuttered as he let out a wrecked moan. Then he sped up, mercifully and wonderfully. Each thrust had the sound of skin slapping against skin, and Wylder was enjoying it too much to be embarrassed.
“Good boy. Finish for me Wylder. I want to see you.”
Wylder was helpless against the plea. As his peak approached and he tensed, cock throbbing and his seed splashing on his stomach, a thought crossed Wylder's mind.
Did Ironeye truly know? How much Wylder cared for him?
Ironeye's hips turned gentle as he worked Wylder through it, thrusts firm to keep the pleasure going. Wylder released the tight grip he had on the archer to gently cradle his face, pushing back silver locks that messily framed his face.
“I love you.” It came out as a whisper. The truth spoke in the midst of a tender moment. The words of a dying man with nothing else to lose. Ironeye's eyes widened, before a full body shiver ran through him. His hips canted like he couldn't help himself, and Wylder quickly got the hint. He pulled the archer close, listening to him pant and moan in his ear as Ironeye's pace became desperate.
“That's it.” Wylder found himself to be the one encouraging now. “Finish for me. Finish in me. Let the others know I'm yours, as much as you are mine.”
Ironeye moaned lowly at that, grip tightening. Soon his hips were stuttering and he was pushing deep into Wylder, slowly grinding against him as he filled him with his seed. Wylder wrapped a hand around his cock and pumped a few times before joining, not as intensely but enough to add to the mess already made on his stomach.
Ironeye didn't pull out right away, much to Wylder's satisfaction. Instead he took a moment to collect himself, looking down at Wylder with a tenderness the swordsman realized was reserved for him and only him. Ironeye gently traced his cheek with a finger, before pushing his messy hair behind his ear.
“I love you too.”
Wylder's eyes softened as his heart fluttered, and he easily accepted the gentle kiss Ironeye pressed to his lips.
He would be a dead man soon. But here, in the solace of his room, he could be driven to distraction, if only for a night.
Ironeye let the mighty doors that led to the Nightlord - to Wylder - close behind him with a thud.
He tried speaking to him. Yelling at him. Pleading with him.
But nothing.
Even fighting him seemed to yield no result. Wylder wouldn't fight him, but he wouldn't look at him.
He was Wylder no more.
A simple husk how, that wandered for eternity.
But he clenched his worn earring in his hand tightly. It was the only hope Ironeye had that perhaps one day, Wylder would come to himself long enough to recognize him.
It was a fleeting hope, but hope it was the same.
Wylder's nights were no different than the ones before he ascended to power. On the outside at least.
But Wylder wasn't the only one who betrayed everyone. For a better reason, maybe, as the blood that stained his clothes was stubborn to be washed out signified. But the Night would never end. Not while Ironeye safeguarded it. For his freedom. And for Wylder's.
The rains no longer drained him, they felt like home now. They felt like Wylder.
The sister he was so desperate to save was gone. Ironeye suspected with her failure, the Roundtable Hold called upon a new recruit of Nightfarers, and with them, a new Priestess. She was gone. No matter where Ironeye looked, he simply couldn't find her.
Either she didn't want to be found, or she had disappeared with the Hold.
The idea of Wylder's plan not working, of everything happening for nothing was too much to bare, so he would keep searching.
And when the new Nightfarers got too close to him or Wylder, he would kill them. Such was the choice he made with his newfound freedom.
It was…refreshing. To be able to make these choices on his own. The Fellowship would send someone after him eventually, once they learned of his betrayal. But he was confident in his skill, and so he forged on.
But he had one more person to visit.
He wasn't sure where most of the Nightfarers went after Wylder took the Night Aspect's shape. He knew Revenant was hell-bent on ending the Night. She did well at resisting its influence now, so he imagined she stayed at the Roundtable. Guardian held a strong sense of companionship, and probably stayed as well.
Raider most likely took to sea again. Ironeye had watched him yearn from the shore a few times. As for the others, they all went their separate ways. He didn't really care. Fine companions they were, but he knew they could all take care of themselves. Besides, he only had one other Nightfarer he wanted to hunt down.
Recluse was hidden deep within an ancient forest. The trees seemed to watch his every move, and surprisingly nothing bothered him as he made his way to where he sniffed the witch out from. He knew this was by design, he only found Recluse's location because she wanted him to, invited him. Had it been different, who knows how long he'd be wandering the deep forests.
But he had time on his side now, so he wasn't worried.
Recluse's rise was locked with many sigils, but they all allowed for his passage. And he soon found the witch holding her infant in what looked to be a nursing room, filled with tomes and blankets and the sort.
“It is interesting to see you again, my dear Ironeye.” Recluse's tone was as soft and caring as ever. Ironeye nodded to her.
“Glad to see you are doing well. Have you gathered the information I requested?”
Recluse knew him well enough by now to know not to be offended by his habit of being straight to the point.
“The results are not favorable. There's no way to reverse it. Even if we find another silver tear, his body is dead, there is no place for his soul to return to.”
Ironeye said nothing. He had a feeling. But he had to try. He had to do something to try and bring Wylder back.
“And the location?”
Recluse sighed. “It may not work-"
“I have to try.” Ironeye interrupted, voice hard. Recluse studied him. Ironeye tried to soften his tone, knowing the witch was doing her best to assist. “I have to try. He would have done everything he could for me. So I have to try.”
Recluse watched him for a moment longer before sighing and standing from her plush leather seat. “Come with me.”
The winding stairs led to a passage underground, and Ironeye immediately marveled at the large library Recluse collected over her many years. The witch adjusted her infant in her arms and grabbed a page, presenting it to Ironeye. It detailed a place called Nokron, deep underground.
“There are many things unknown about the Eternal City. But I know of a passage along a river. This is all I have.”
Ironeye pocketed the page, thanking Recluse and turning to leave. Her next words had him pausing.
“You grieve him. You grieve the Wylder.”
Ironeye didn't answer, back still to her. He heard the witch sigh. “Grief is love with nowhere to go. For two such as them, Duchess and Wylder, to meet such tragic ends. Perhaps, in another life, it could have been avoided. I truly hope you are able to find the answer you are looking for, dear Ironeye.”
Ironeye left without saying anything, now that he had what he needed. And a new place to go to. A new target.
Maybe Recluse was right.
Maybe it didn't have to end this way, but Ironeye knew better. It was always going to end this way. Because that was just the kind of man Wylder was. That was just how they were, Duchess and Wylder. Kind. Gentle. Self sacrificing. In a world full of people like Ironeye, selfish by nature, they were the anomaly.
Perhaps, Ironeye thought wistfully as he made his way through and out of the forest, they never stood a chance. But that was alright.
He could even the playing field now. He didn't care how many condemned he had to kill. He didn’t care that Wylder didn't recognize him, a shell of his former self. He didn't care how many silver tears he had to find. He'd cherish the few moments he had with him. And he'd make sure nothing took Wylder from him again. He'd walk his own path, as Isolde wanted him to.
After all, the night was far from over.