Rowan was bored out of his mind. He’d been assigned to sentry duty, again, on the border with the Seelie fae. Normally he had these shifts with his brother, but today he was alone, while Hawthorn guarded the portal nearby. So there was Rowan, left to sit on the quietest part of their borders. At least the other sentries sometimes found stray humans. No one ever approached this border, not even their Seelie neighbors.

The only time this border ever saw any action was when a stray Seelie runaway decided to try their hand at slipping into the human world through the portal behind the Unseelie border. They never made it. Usually they were sent home, as long as they didn’t resist.

As the hours dragged on, Rowan had become desperate for something - anything - that might distract him. He’d resorted to throwing daggers at a tree twenty paces away. His brother would hit him for this, for something so undisciplined and unrefined. So Unseelie-like. Then, he’d return to standing still as a statue, the perfect, ever-vigilant Unseelie sentry.

He was about to launch another blade when a crack echoed through the quiet forest. At first he assumed it was some small animal, but then a head poked out of the bushes near Rowan’s tree, silvery blonde curls going everywhere. He knew before he scented the newcomer that they were Seelie. One of his kind would never let their hair be so awry, let it be in anything but a sleek braid or knot at the nape of their neck.

Rowan knew the protocols for this situation: he was supposed to jump down there and catch the Seelie, and, depending on how much they struggled, he would either send them back towards their land or take them to see the captain of the watch. However, something held him back, made him watch as the newcomer stepped out of the bushes, revealing a flowing pink dress and sun-kissed, deeply tanned skin.

Rowan was barely breathing as she looked up at his tree, just a quick glance, but he could have sworn her eyes landed on him. She looked away quickly though, and he let a sigh escape his lips, before straightening, unsure of why he was so relieved. He knew he would win any fight that arose from this situation, sure his training would win out against whatever an untrained, undisciplined Seelie would come up with.

The Seelie in question was currently picking her way over to a clear spot of grass, free from tree roots and debris, bare feet seeming to float over the ground. She was every inch a creature from a human fairy-tale. Even more so when she began to dance and sing, her voice haunting and lilting, her steps light and unfaltering.

She seemed to float above the ground, nothing tripping her up, despite the uneven ground. Her movements were fluid and impossibly graceful, but that didn’t explain what about her was so entrancing. Maybe it had to do with her voice, the beautiful melody she was singing.

Rowan could not look away, until her performance finally drew to a close. He had tried, he thought, had tried to raise his arms to cover his face, but his limbs were not obeying.

She began finding a place to start a new dance, and Rowan leapt into action. He didn’t know what magic she was using to have such a hold on him, but he couldn’t afford to be caught in her spell again. He dropped to the forest floor and launched himself towards her, red eyes flashing. Before he could reach her, though, vines shot up from the ground to wrap around his ankles and wrists.

“Who are you?” The Seelie demanded, eyes hard, but a tremor of nerves in her voice, betraying that she had never seen real combat before. “What do you want?” She asked when Rowan didn’t look up at her, too busy trying to find a way out of the vines trapping him. It was impressive magic, and more impressive reflexes, that had caught him off-guard and let her trap him. But this wasn’t elf magic, despite those slender, pointed ears he could see poking through her hair.

“I’m speaking to you,” the girl snapped, voice no longer shaking. “Are you going to answer?” Finally, Rowan hauled his eyes up to her face, but any response he might have come up with died on his lips when he saw her eyes. The pale pink of them wasn’t what made his heart skip a beat; no, that was due to the feeling deep in his gut, something yanking and churning, something in his soul surging up, before settling back down.

“You,” he breathed, painfully aware of his heart pounding in his chest, of his very soul aching because of the girl in front of him. “You,” he repeated when she began backing away, shaking her head, eyes wide with fear.

“No,” she whispered, horror written on her face. “You won’t take me. I won’t be your soulmate,” she added, hands out as if to ward him off, despite the fact that he was still trapped in her vines.

“But you are,” he said, not bothering to hide his confusion. “We’re soulmates. You can’t change that. Let me go, I won’t hurt you.”

“Because the bond won’t let you,” she retorted. “I know what you were going to do before I caught you. You were going to kidnap me. That’s what you do with your Seelie soulmates.

“I never should have come here. You’re going to take me away and I’ll never see my mother again,” she whispered, almost to herself, eyes bright with unshed tears. “That’s all you Unseelie do. You take and take and take. But not me. Not me,” she repeated.

“What are you talking about?” Rowan demanded, growing tired of her fear and ever more frustrated with the vines rubbing his skin raw.

“I’ve heard the stories,” she said, still backing away. “When Unseelie elves have Seelie soulmates, they take them away and force them to be Unseelie, like them.”

“Someone has to change sides,” he said slowly, as if he was speaking to a child, frustrated by her anger. He didn't get what the problem was. It was only logical they change sides. “It’s not like they can just keep being separated like that. Of course the Seelie come to our side.”

“Why do you never come to ours?” she asked softly, those doe eyes pinning him to the ground, even as the vines finally started to loosen. “You take us from our families you never meet. You take us from our homes you never see. I will not let you take me too.” With that, she turned and ran, practically flying out of his sight.

Rowan fought to escape the vines, tearing off more skin as he went, until he was finally free. He ignored the burning on his wrists and ankles, chasing after the girl. He couldn’t just let her slip away so easily, couldn’t let his soulmate run away from him like that. He knew the route she was taking, knew if he did not catch her, she would go to the human world and run out of his life forever.

So Rowan ran, and he ran, and he ran, following her scent, because there was no sign of her passing. No broken branches, no stray leaves, no footprints, nothing. As if she’d never been there.

Finally, Rowan burst into the clearing surrounding the portal, just in time to see her fall to the ground under the weight of an Unseelie soldier. His brother, Rowan realized dimly, as he roared and hurled himself at the Fae male pressing his soulmate to the ground.

Rowan had never once won a fight with his brother, had never had the strength or the speed, but this time, he had surprise and fury and a soulmate bond on his side. His brother was on his back in a heartbeat, and Rowan’s fists rained down upon him. His advantage only lasted so long, though.

Hawthorn shoved upwards with all his might, unbalancing Rowan long enough to flip him, pinning Rowan’s shoulders. From his position on the ground, Rowan could barely see the girl - smart as she was beautiful - take the chance to make a break for the portal, leaving them to fight it out amongst themselves. He felt, more than saw, prick her finger, drawing the blood needed to open the portal. He scented her blood only moments later, and something in him began roaring as his brother did too.

Rowan struggled, but Hawthorn did not budge, not even as he drew a blade from his side, not as he pulled his hand back, took aim, and threw. The blade flew true, burying itself in the Seelie’s shoulder. Rowan hissed at the phantom pain in his own shoulder. He’d heard soulmate bonds would let them feel the other’s pain, but he never knew just how real it would feel.

“I’ll kill you,” Rowan roared when he heard the girl cry out in pain. Hawthorn looked down at him, unimpressed and disappointed.

“What’s gotten into you, little brother? It’s just a Seelie,” he added with a sneer in her direction. Rowan surged up at that, attempting to unseat him as Hawthorn had done, to no avail. “Goddess, Rowan, you’d think she was your-” Hawthorn met his gaze and understanding cut through the contempt Rowan saw there. “No. This is a joke, right? She’s not your…”

“She is,” Rowan whispered, struggling to stand again. Hawthorn let him rise, sighing as he did, doing nothing as Rowan ran to her side, panic coursing through him when he saw her crumpled form, hand grappling with the knife in her shoulder.

“Don’t touch me,” she snarled, staring up at him with a mixture of fear and rage in those beautiful eyes. “Stay away from me, or-”

“Or what?” Hawthorn asked, tone gloriously disdainful. “You’re not going anywhere with that thing sticking out of your back. You can’t do anything in that condition.” She turned her glare on him, and Rowan found himself relieved he no longer had to meet that gaze. She was remarkably intimidating for an untrained, undisciplined Seelie.

“Let me help you,” Rowan whispered pleadingly. “I feel how much it’s hurting you.” She stared at him incredulously for a heartbeat before his words sunk in.

“Right, I’m sure my pain is quite the inconvenience for you,” she said cooly. He opened his mouth to argue, but she wasn’t done. “So selfish, you Unseelie. I shouldn’t be surprised. Fine, go ahead. You,” she snapped at Hawthorn, “stay over there, or you’ll see just how much I can do ‘in this condition.’” Hawthorn snorted, but said nothing, and made no move to approach.

Rowan shifted to get a better look at her wound, sighing through his nose. The knife had to go, but pulling it out would hurt her even more. But maybe the pain would allow him to convince her to come home with him, where he would convince her to stay by his side. Soulmates belonged together, after all.

“This is going to hurt,” Rowan warned her gently. She just nodded, bracing herself for the pain. He slowly wrapped his hand around the blade’s hilt, pulling it out as quickly, but gently, as he could manage. She moaned slightly, but otherwise gave no indication of having felt the blade sliding free.

Next, Rowan tore off part of his tunic, pressing the fabric to the wound in her shoulder, hoping to slow the bleeding. It was deep, but he’d dealt with worse. Never with an audience before, though.

Male Unseelie were banned from using healing magic, though it was very rare they were blessed with the gift. There were very strict laws against what he was about to do; what he had been doing in secret all his life. He trusted Hawthorn not to report him, but it was still unnerving knowing he was there. But that didn’t matter, when he could feel his soulmate getting weaker by the second.

Rowan closed his eyes, reaching out with that power within in, searching for the wound with his mind, his magic. He found it easily, a white-hot flare of light in his mind’s eye, and let his magic brush up against it, letting it show him what needed to be done. He felt her take a shuddering, surprised breath, and nearly lost his focus.

The magic didn’t let him back off, though, didn’t let him get distracted. It nudged his mind, showing him what it wanted to do. He simply let go, and felt as it zipped through the wound, stitching her flesh back together. It was over quickly, and left him drained, as always. It took several heartbeats for him to open his eyes, to find her staring at him.

“You’re a healer,” she said, eyes wide. “I thought Unseelie males aren’t allowed to heal.”

“They aren’t,” said a voice that made Rowan’s blood run cold. He knew that tone, colder than ice, and hard as elemental steel.

“Captain,” Hawthorn said, saluting the man that entered the clearing, three fingers too his brow. “Aspen found you?”

“Yes, he’s on his way with more guards. You did well,” Captain Blackthorn said cooly. “Sending for me was the right choice. And you did well to stall them.”

“‘Them’ sir?” Hawthorn echoed, trying his best to hide his confusion - and concern, Rowan realized when his brother’s gaze fell upon him.

“The Seelie, and the traitor,” Blackthorn said, eyeing Rowan with disdain. “He tried to help her, did he not?”

“Yes, sir, but-” Hawthorn attempted to explain, only to be cut off by Blackthorn.

“But nothing,” Blackthorn snapped. “Anyone who helps a Seelie is a traitor to his kind. Not to mention the illegal use of healing magic.” Hawthorn started to argue, but was interrupted by more guards spilling into the clearing. Rowan threw himself between them and the girl with no hesitation, and Blackthorn just laughed.

“Fool,” he sneered. “You should just let us take her, and I’ll let you off with a warning. Won’t even report your magic to the council. You won’t do that, though, will you?”

“She’s my soulmate,” Rowan said, pleadingly. Blackthorn was notorious for the way he treated caught Seelie. Most captains let them return home, with a guard to make sure they crossed the border. Blackthorn, though, relished in keeping them captive, in trapping those free-spirits in the dungeons. It had never bothered Rowan, until he imagined the fiery girl behind him stuck in a cell, banging on those bars with all her might.

“You are weak,” Blackthorn said cruelly. “A slave to the bond. Disgusting. What were you going to do, help her escape? No matter. You’ll both be locked away. You’ll never have to leave her side again,” he added with a laugh that sounded like shattering glass, shattering dreams.

“Get them out of my sight,” Blackthorn said dismissively. The guards behind him hurried forward to grab them. Rowan tried to break free, but his magic had taken far too much from him. He watched from the ground as his soulmate again used those vines to tie up two guards that came her way, but there were too many for her to fend them off. She fell quickly, too, and neither of them could do anything as they were hauled off towards Blackthorn’s dungeons.