Darren flinched. He walked to a nearby table, overburdened with the wreckage of Felix's presence, and leaned against it. Once Felix was gone, his fingers clutched the hard wood convulsively as he struggled with hearing his thoughts aired so casually. The spy closed his eyes, took a sharp breath, and then walked away. It was alright. Felix had spoken nothing more then the truth, and he was sure the other man knew it too.

Felix didn't know everything. The pale haired man knew nothing about what Darren felt for him. He couldn't. Auburn hair swept away as the spy lay down upon the floor. His muscles clenched and flexes as he began to go through exercises, one after the other. This was the easiest way to relax, to regain control of himself.

'A small collection of weapons hidden in Shimmermist Cavern---'

'Guard transfer at high midnight---strike low---'

'... supplies caravan headed northeast on Saberclaw trail, burn the bodies---'

'---Spies. Torture to divulge any information, then death...'

Felix's hand shook as he wrote everything down in translation, something a scribe would curse if he or she were working on an actual document. But this was in his own handwriting, in neat lines, written in formality, just as the coded documents were. It was the tenth document that made him wary: "Our side missions now and for the rest of our example is to track down the king's spies. Torture to divulge any information, then death by hanging or beheading."

He couldn't see Darren dead. Tortured without the effects of Felix's influence. It would be pretty effective, regardless of how tempered to pain a spy could be. He set down his quill when the tremors in his hands grew too powerful to continue, and he went around to set the finished eleventh document on the bed. All the drawers were taken up, and a lot of the surfaces were as well. His bed was the only remaining place to set them to dry.

One last grunt escaped him as cuts and scratches he'd forgotten stretched with his movements. They were small things, unimportant and insignificant. The spy shifted up from the hard wood floor. Without thinking over it consciously, Darren stalked through the cottage, his feet taking him to the other man's room once more. He didn't even bother knocking, but threw it open instead.

Papers spread about everywhere met his assessing gaze. Then his eyes fell upon Felix. "You seem pretty shaken up." What had those documents said? The king would have to be notified and by means which couldn't be traced. That would mean going to visit him personally. Leaving Felix alone was out of the questions, though the thought of bringing him to court for even a short time was quite frightening.

Felix jumped and gasped when the door slammed open, and he looked worriedly at his work. The nearest papers fluttered in the resulting breeze, but didn't move otherwise, and he let out a sign in mixed relief, but also annoyance. Why would he do that!? Felix had forced his way through documents he'd copied once without understanding them then wrote them down again in a way he could understand, just a few in over a hundred! If any were smudged... he'd have to start from scratch with that one and have even more work on his hands. Because Darren didn't know how to open a door easily?

"I'm shaken up because I have to write down five years of documents that threaten myself, the king, and the spies of the king! Things that detail strategies that the king didn't think of and therefore push the resistance closer to uprooting his control! And you burst in here like a madman and almost ruin most of my work because you don't know how to knock!" These tears were from anger and not despair. They streamed down his face without check until he rubbed them away furiously. "What's the matter with you, anyway?" The demon demanded harshly. "I'm doing what you brought me here for, aren't I?" If Darren attacked, it wouldn't matter. Felix just had to remind himself constantly of that, that any pain wrought wouldn't kill him because he needed all of the documents to understand the general movements of the resistance, and the current movements, to see a pattern.

"That's the problem!" The yelled words escaped Darren before he could stop them. He snarled, his eyes flashing widly as he stomped forward to let his fist fly. He felt the impact jar his hand, felt his knuckles hit the other man's jaw, and relished it. It would have been so much easier if Felix hadn't been so endearing, so dedicated to his work. The well muscled man stood, his feet planted solidly upon the ground. He glared at the pale haired man before him.

He didn't want to explain, and yet somehow he needed to come up with an excuse for his behavior. "You had no right to speak of my life like you did , none at all." It wasn't at all touching on why he was so angry, so confused and unsettled. That suited Darren just fine. The thought of giving Felix so much power over him was terrifying.

Felix squeaked in shock, but the pain didn't register on a normal scale. It made his heart race in a different way and he stifled a growling smile as he returned upright, standing in equal manner to Darren. The two looked as if they could be evenly matched now, now that Felix had fed twice in one day. He just didn't want to sink to acting out violently in turn. "You had no right to take my life from me!" Felix roared, eyes flashing and growing paler in tone. "You took everything I had and worked for, and now I have to decide whether I want to deal with you for the rest of my life or cut my throat right now so I don't have to deal with it, and let you sort it all out on your own." He was actually contemplating it. He'd seen what Darren was now. He was probably always insensitive. Maybe that was why he was a loner type of spy and didn't seem to rely on a partner or someone else in turn.

Anger made his green eyes seem like chips of jade. The emotion was mostly turned inward as he heard the other man's accusing words. Darren knew Felix was right about what he had done, and the spy felt guilty for it all. At the same time he couldn't regret it. A smirk flitted across his lips, and just as he was about to retort, his eyes widened. "No," murmured Darren once as he took a step forward.

"Don't do that to yourself! Please, Felix? You don't have to stay with me. There's a nice cottage out there waiting for you, and once we go deliver the documents to the king, he can make the arrangements for your new home. You won't see hide nor hair of me again." His voice cracked. "Don't kill yourself because you hate me so." Darren nearly reached out despite Felix's obvious anger then. What did it matter what he did or said anymore? Training stopped him. Earlier had been different, an obligation more then a show of emotion, and now it was far too late for anything different.

Felix narrowed his eyes at the man. He was so... conflicting! What did it matter to him if Felix bled out in one of his many, many hiding places? There were plenty others around so he didn't have to bother with the body of the scribe until time and insects ate him away to bone, then it was a matter of sweeping up the shards remaining and tossing them outside like decorative rocks. Why did the spy care? Felix could tell. The well-tempered emotional ties shifted a little and broke, and he could see something underneath.

"Why. Do you care so much?" He asked, rather haltingly since his outburst had caught his throat and strained his voice a bit. "A spy shouldn't want to preserve the life of their captive, especially after they're finished with them. Once I complete the hundred-five documents, you won't need me anymore. Why not just kill me anyway? Aren't I completely useless afterward? Isn't that what you're trained to do?" He breathed out shakily, running his hand over the side of his face that still throbbed in fading pressure. Honestly, he didn't want to die, but if he wouldn't be killed by Darren, he would be by the resistance that had decided he needed to die as soon as he was useless to them.

Why did he care, indeed. Darren hadn't stopped wondering that for what seemed like forever. Haltingly, the spy reaching out to let his fingers brush against the skin he'd bruised in anger. "Because ..." He stopped before going on again. "Because you aren't..." He couldn't say it! Darren stopped, letting out a frustrated sound. Forcing the words out was impossible.

The auburn haired man looked away. "You make me forget my training, forget that I'm supposed to be serving the king." His words hung in the air, and he kept waiting for them to be ripped to shreds. Felix didn't care for him. Oh no, the man was willing to end his life just to escape Darren's company! Not that the spy could blame him, after everything he'd done.

He was... what? The fact that Darren---a hard-trained spy for the king, who only allowed the best of the best to serve him directly---could lose track of what he was about to say was a ridiculous thought, and he almost reflexively backed away from the touch. He... made Darren act this way? Without even trying. What did that mean? "I... I don't... understand, Darren..." He muttered, and shook his head hard, sending his hair flying. "I... No, I can't... Maybe it's better you lock me in here and push someone in now and then so I can finish these things... alone... So I don't accidentally influence you. It's hard to believe I make you forget working for the king himself..."

No, no. It had to be something else. Had to be something that Felix didn't fully influence at all, or whatsoever. Something in Darren's mind that made him forgetful, and... emotional, rather than closed off. Showing his annoyances instead of biting them back or acting them out in violence and threats.

He let his hand fall without knowing that hurt flickered through his eyes for moments too long. Every time he tried to be kind, he was rejected. Darren laughed harshly. " Make up your mind, Felix! Would you rather die, or be locked up to avoid me?" The spy trembled slightly. This was all too much... So much worse then any torture that could be devised.

"It doesn't matter anyway, damn you! I try but it doesn't matter to you..." A tear fell down his cheek, then another, before he wiped them away violently. Darren turned away, heel sliding across the floor with ease. He walked to the door and looked over his shoulder. "You were right, the life of a spy is indeed sad." He hadn't made enough of an effort. It was better like this anyway. A splinter lanced into his finger, but the spy's expression changed not a bit.

At least if things ended like this, Felix would have a chance to get his life back once everything was over.

Felix stood rooted to the floorboards, mouth hanging agape but finding no intention to close it until he shook his head. This was all so... ridiculously confusing! What did Darren mean by all this? Did he want the documents or not? Did he want to get rid of Felix...? Did he, now that the incubus thought about it? Did he really want to get rid of Felix? The man's actions were so conflicting, one moment angry and the next, sad, then frustrated... He tore up his feet from the floor and stepped forward. "Darren, damn it... Stop." He hurried over, planting himself in front of the human.

"Forgive me if I... can't understand human emotion as well as any other human." He said sternly. "My kind naturally seek out temporary companionship and don't necessarily... try to understand anything deeper than momentary touch that ends in death. That I've managed to... to do whatever I've done to you... I apologize. But I wish I knew what you were trying to tell me. You just leave and I never hear the end of your thought..." He pursed his lips. "I... don't know how sad the life of a spy is, but surely it can compare to that of a scribe; alone, silent, secluded. In a quiet place with few visitors that only want you to copy their fading texts, and after you're done, they don't even remember you exist until they need something else. Most of my days and nights are spent over a desk with candlelight showing me the way, and... I have no time for friends, or relationships, or to even see the seasons change..." He breathed in sharply, feeling suddenly sad. More than sad---broken. He'd missed out on so much. So many people. Why did it take a kidnapping to jar him to reality?

Somehow it made things worse, knowing that Felix simply didn't understand what Darren had been trying so hard to say. He closed his eyes and took a quick breath. The rush of air filled his lungs and helped him relax, to collect his thoughts. The momentary peace was all too short. "You managed to make me care for you, much more then I should." He halted, turning his eyes away. "I care so much that I'm afraid of being distracted from what I must do, or worse ... That worrying over you could lead to ..." He couldn't say it. Just thinking of Felix's untimely death had a hard fist clenching around his heart.

"At least you can have relationships if you try hard enough. The only ones I've ever had were lies to gain information or to kill someone upon orders of the king. And if I haven't been given such a mission ... I am a spy. I never stay in one place for too long, and I know there are those would kill me at the drop of a hat, but not before trying to get any information they can out of me. " His breath hitched, and something akin to tenderness filled his eyes. "I couldn't put someone I love through that." It was better that Felix didn't understand, better that he forgot about his silly notions. In the end, what had hurt really was a blessing now that he thought about it.

Still ... Darren lifted a hand to brush his fingers lightly over the other man's cheek. "I'm glad you don't understand. It will make things so much easier when you're gone." Easier for Felix, easier for him. Darren already knew he would miss Felix too much, but it would have been heartwrenching if he'd actually had something to lose.

Gone sounded so... permanent. Like Felix was going to die. But Darren didn't understand, really. He didn't know about incubi or succubi, not really, not as much as he could. He put a hand up to grab Darren's. "You could still... immediately feel love." He said. "It's a natural human emotion. If I wanted to, I'd have to... put aside my nature enough so I could understand the feeling. I've seen people die and kill for love, and I've read thousands of books on love---on the torture of love, when one doesn't feel the same for another. It leads to... insanity. I can't understand it on the fly, Darren, I... want to. I wanted to do a lot, actually." He let his hand fall. "I wanted to do so much... S-so much, and it feels like I've wasted all my life just copying things down for others---others that have a life. Loves. Kids. A real home and friends and... a life." Felix felt his face twist and he looked down, putting his hands up to shield his eyes.

"I-I'm sorry, D-Darren, I... I do-don't mean to... t-to make it hard on you." He sniffed hard, looking up to the spy and immediately putting his arms around him. Therein was such a sense of comfort and safety, something that had been utterly lacking up until this point. Some all-too obvious hole didn't seem so apparent anymore, and he pulled Darren a little closer so he couldn't escape yet. It felt too... good. To feel as if there was a shield to keep that helpless and lonely feeling at bay for a while.

It felt like warmth flooded him from the small contact between their hands. Darren felt like his heart stopped. He didn't want to hear such words from Felix! And yet, his heart soared and plummeted at the same time. The contrasting emotions made him want to laugh. He had to work hard not to when face with the other man's long exposition. Once Felix was done, he hesitated, and just a moment too long.

Felix was actually seeking comfort from him, of all people. The pale haired man was apologizing for something he couldn't help. Darren's lips quirked up in a tiny smile, and the emotion actually reached his eyes. "You don't need to apologize." Uncertain and sweet, it made Darren feel protective all over again. He wrapped his arms around Felix and let one hand shift to rub at the other man's back soothingly.

Felix shook his head. Maybe not, but it made him feel better. Made it feel better to get all his real frustration out. He wasn't angry that he'd been taken from his home, but rather that his home had become more of a prison. What better was it than a dungeon, in retrospect? He pulled away from Darren and smiled through a tear-streaked face, wiping his hair out of his eyes. "Maybe." He sighed, a little short of breath from the immediate emotional show. "Thank you though, Darren... I... I'd like to get done with these now..." He brushed by, entering his room and beginning to close the door, then deciding against shutting it all the way and leaving it ajar a few inches. Just enough for Darren to know he was allowed in any time.

Once he was done... He would be done for good. He didn't want to write for others anymore, only for himself, and he wanted to do other things too. Wanted to... learn his way around a knife or a sword or, perhaps, archery. That really interested him, and he'd read so much about it. Maybe if Darren had the means, Felix could teach himself... Or perhaps instruments too. He liked the sound of a lute, a harp, a flute... Perhaps he could do both. Learn to be a spy. Kill all those that would try to uproot the king and his family. He sat at his desk, breathing out as if smelling the true state of the air for the first time in his life, and started working, recalling document thirteen and slowly starting his scratching.

The spy wanted to reach out. Brush his fingers against soft skin, chase away the tears shed... And yet he still held back despite everything that had just happened. The moment, his chance to show some tenderness, flitted from his grasp once more. "Alright. I'll be making supper. You can join me once it's ready if you would like." He turned away once the other man had left his sight.

His feet carried him to the kitchen, where he grabbed a pot and some of the things he had brought from the market with them. No tears flowed from his eyes when he chopped the onion, the carrots were a simple matter to take care of. Both plopped into the water he'd set to boil upon the fire warmed iron stove. Then the seasoned deer meat followed, with a good amount of potatoes and peas. It would take a while for everything to cook, so the spy moved into the living room and began to clean every surface he could find to keep his mind occupied.

How much had they missed because of these documents? How far gone were certain areas of the kingdom? How close had they become to the king? As he wrote Felix couldn't help but think of these things, staring at the papers as he worked and finding each and every line oozing with secrets long gone, already enacted and over with. But it was all so necessary. They would begin to see a pattern. It seemed they employed a lot of bandits and negotiated with plenty of logical-thinking creatures such as gorgons and, though it made him shudder to think about, incubi and succubi.

After number eighteen Felix sighed and set down his dull quill, stepping strategically through the littering of drying ink and paper and squeezing out of his room, creeping a little ways down the hall to what he assumed would be Darren's. The human wouldn't mind if Felix slept at the foot of his bed, right? His room was full of wet paper he couldn't afford to move or stack, and he was so tired suddenly. He barely opened the door, managing to slip inside and collapse on the edge of the free bed found within, falling asleep almost at once with images of words burned in his mind's eye.

The spy spooned out some of the stew from the old cast iron pot. It slopped around in it's bowl, and some of it dribbled down the dark haired man's chin. Darren wiped it away once he was done, washed the bowl and spoon he'd used. Once the pot was covered, he walked away. He crept in his own home, avoiding the scribe's room. Darren stopped in his tracks when he stepped into his own.

He couldn't understand why the other man would decide to lie down there, of all places. It looked like the scribe was nothing more then a pet, waiting for its master to return. Shaking his head with a sigh, Darren let fall his shirt then slipped into the bed. The auburn haired man pulled at Felix gentle, tucking the scribe into his arms. He fell asleep like that, for once with the warm feel of someone else beside him.

He was so far gone he didn't realize anyone was around even as he was brought slightly out of his coma-like sleep by someone moving him. Someone that found him? Had he fallen asleep off the path on his way home...? Whatever it was, they left him alone after a moment and something alive and warm was against him. Before he fell back into sleep Felix burrowed his way closer to the object of warmth and nuzzled into it.

Felix breathed in sharply, moaning a little as he stretched and opened his eyes, suddenly a little confused. Where was he again...? Of course, with Darren, in fear of his life, helping in some way because he had vast knowledge. And he was pressed against his one-time kidnapper was curled against him as if in a protective manner. Felix smiled to himself, closing his eyes again and feigning sleep to gain a little favor in light of the situation. Maybe Darren would stay a little longer like this when he woke up as well...

Darren shifted, unsure why he felt something so warm leaning against him. Slowly, he opened his eyes and smiled when he saw the other man nestled against him so snugly. Of all the situations the auburn haired man could have imagined, this was the least likely of them all for some reason. He was loathe to move, not too much anyway.

Darren lifted a hand, slightly numb from being laid on for so long, and brushed his fingers through strands of the scribe's hair. The spy winced when he pricked his thumb on something all too sharp. Perplexed, he parted the hair around the hard nub and found something so adorable he had to smile. Horns, so the other man really did have them, and they were so tiny ... and sharp.

Felix was almost dozing again, but was awakened by someone messing with his hair. Darren of course, Felix had to correct himself; this time he knew the person's name. He lifted his head, curling his arms under himself. "Sorry if they hurt you." He muttered, reaching up to touch the small points. His weren't quite as long as others' of his kind, as he was still very, very young. In about thirty years his horns would be larger, darker, and curled more. "I... fell asleep her because my bed was full of papers that had to dry..." He said it as an apology more than anything, though for the first time found it odd that Darren hadn't left Felix at the foot of the bed. Maybe it was that feeling Darren was talking about. Love, was it? He knew what it meant, still, though it did confuse him. Maybe it would take a long time to understand it fully...

Maybe by then, Darren would have moved on...

The thought put an empty feeling in his chest, and Felix shook it away. "It... is still safe to be here?" He asked, trying to break the silence. "I worry about you..." Maybe he sounded foolish. Darren could take care of himself...

Darren shook his head with a half smile. "Not much, just a prick. They're ... endearing." After what had happened before, he supposed being freer with his emotions, with his words, would be alright. It wasn't like it would all that much of a difference. Felix couldn't understand how he felt, not really, and as such, Darren knew that his feelings were probably never going to be returned. Affection would have to be enough. It was more then he had a right to expect.

The spy rolled his eyes and let his lips fall to the other man's cheek. It felt odd, being gentle. "You don't need excuses for such a small thing, not after some of what we've shared." Sleeping like they had was probably more intimate in some ways, not all, but some. He felt so warm ... happy? Darren had never thought such an emotion could be his, and certainly not when he knew the person who made him feel so couldn't ever really understand why.

The scribe's last words had his eyes widening. Worry, from Felix? Darren laughed. "We should be safe for another day. Tomorrow night might be an opportune time to move again." Glancing down into the other man's eyes, he shifted to pull Felix over with him, so the other man rested atop him, close to him. He sighed happily. "Why would you worry about me? I'll keep you safe and sound, Felix. That's all it is, isn't it? You'll be safe." The assassin's smile twisted up brightly as his arms tightened around the other man. He'd never wanted to protect someone so desperately as he did Felix.

Felix was careful not to poke Darren with his small horns again when he moved, and was thankfully closer to the human now than he'd been before. The warmth was different than that of any natural air or fire, because it had actual life. "Darren, I'm not afraid for myself. I can run if I can't fight if I'm in danger... Unless you teach me." He leaned forward a bit, close to Darren so he didn't have to lift his voice much. It was as if he would break some unwritten law if he spoke too loudly, harming the quiet outside their little bubble. And Felix wanted to learn so badly. Learn how to use a blade, a bow, a knife... He'd read about techniques and fletching, how to tell poisons and dangerous plants... And he wanted to be a part of it. He wanted to be more useful beyond his ability to speak dozens of languages and write in any way presented to him. He wanted to learn it all so bad, so he could become a spy beside Darren, something reliable and deadly, more deadly than his nature made him.

He studied Darren. "Would you...? Teach me, I mean, between my translations. I want to know how to use weapons, not just... have methods in my head. I can already move with the shadows, unseen, and I know what poisons are and what safe plants exist in the world, even ancient ones that are difficult to even find... I would be exceptionally helpful, moreso after I know how to hold a dagger, or sword, or handle a bow and arrow or crossbow..." He closed his mouth. Maybe he was pushing his luck---maybe Darren didn't necessarily trust him that far yet. But if he didn't... what use would it be to feel so strongly toward Felix in general?

"You want to be a spy," summarized Darren. It was rather shocking, imagining the other man living the type of life he did. Blood covering Felix's hands, dripping and all the wounds he'd gather. The spy was almost more afraid of how others might capture Felix's attention if he was hurt. What would happen then? He let out a long breath, and glanced at Felix's face measuringly.

There, determination abounded. "The bow, we'll start with that. It's the most useful." It was also something which could help protect Felix while keeping him from danger, while other skills were learned. "And hand to hand combat as well." Surely, that would be enough to satisfy the other man for now. Darren wondered what the king would have to say about this, and the spy master. They were usually the ones who recruited people. Felix hadn't asked about that yet though. Darren felt himself being torn again between duty and feelings. The latter took the battle.

Darren was going to be in so much trouble.