Maybe Dying So Who Cares, Day 135 A.F.

My blood pooled under and around me, as if I was floating on a sea of red. Each drop stained the dusty ground a sickening black. I knew if Cyprian would only let my drooping eyes shut for just a little while, I'd be okay. I could almost feel my powers straining, feebly trying to drag my flesh back together, but my energy was sapped. My adrenalin had dissolved, leaving only hollow exhaustion. I needed something to spark my healing abilities, but Cyp didn't see it my way.

"You can sleep when I'm sure you'll wake up." Cyp pulled his shirt back up to my shoulders, whether to keep me warm or to conceal my wound, I wasn't sure, though the bit of cloth did little to accomplish either.

Cyprian had moved me closer to my ruined trees, enduring my pain-ridden screams and insults. He'd placed a broken branch under my head, the makeshift pillow surprisingly comfortable, and ordered Tybira to fetch my bilberry bush. The tiny plant didn't speed my recovery, but it was a comfort.

"I can't heal like this," I grunted, voice strained and scratchy. The pain had dimmed to a terrible chill, racking my body with shudders, but allowing me to speak. "Just let me..." My head began to sag to one side, my eyes sliding shut.

"Oh no." Cyp kneeled next to me, cupping my cheek in his palm to keep my face from meeting my wooden pillow.

Without a thought, I leaned into his touch; his hand was warm and soft. The heat made it easier to keep my eyes open. When he started to draw a way, I lifted my trembling hands to catch his wrist, bringing his warmth back to my face.

Cyp chuckled, his thumb brushing my cheekbone. "That's it. You can stay awake for me, can't you, Flower?"

"That's not working." My eyes fluttered, but stayed open as I reveled in that one point of heat. It was humiliating, clinging to Cyprian like a child, or a gushing puppy after he'd made it very clear my feelings weren't reciprocated. But his touch, that searing warmth of his palms, the tickling brush of his calloused fingers... It made my heart speed, my senses sharpen.

"Really?" He curled his finger under my chin, gaze roving across my face. "There seems to be a good deal more color in your cheeks. That's something, isn't it?"

I let go of his wrist, but he only continued to caress my face until I feebly pushed his arm away. His hand covered mine, and eventually, almost without my desire, my fingers curled around his like vines clinging to a branch.

"Brave little Flower." He laughed, deep and breathy. "What were you thinking taking on the Devil all by yourself?"

"I would have had him if my poison had worked." The red seemed to have stopped seeping through Cyp's shirt. Maybe I was healing a bit.

"Gabriel said he's one of the few Cards immune to your poison," Cyp reminded. "He doesn't know the others, or if he does, he's not telling."

"Hm." I yawned.

Cyprian sighed, brushing my hair back, keeping what he could out of my blood. "Would it keep you awake if I kept talking?"

I dipped my chin. It might or might not keep me awake, but I liked Cyp talking to me.

"Alright... What to talk about?" He rubbed his neck, lips pursed. "Well, I don't want you taking enemies on by yourself like that."

"You did," I grumbled.

"I'm a palace guard. I'm head of the sect that defends the royal family. I've been trained since my childhood to lay down my life for my queen. I know how to fight."

The pride in his voice was clear. He knew he was skilled. "Teach me to fight?"

He laughed again, which made me frown. "I don't know, Flower. The way I fight, it's about strength and force. You're tough, but you don't have the size or the muscle."

"You said your captain was a woman?"

"And Lucy started her training even younger than I did," he answered. "There's absolutely no reason women can't fight, Flower, that's not why I'm telling you no. But from a physical strength perspective, you're naturally at a disadvantage. I might have never beaten Lucy, but that's because she had more experience than me and honed her craft relentlessly. She had to work far harder than I ever had to make up for her smaller stature. You don't have time to build those skills. And combat is dangerous for even the most skilled soldiers." Cyp brought my hand to his cheek. "I don't want to see you get hurt again."

"The same goes for you," I reminded, though Cyp's injury was almost healed.

"Really?" He cast me a grin. "So you're not angry with me? You've been glaring at me ever since we went hunting."

I was glad my guilty staring was perceived as hostile. That was less embarrassing than the longful gazing I'd been doing. "I'm not mad. Just... I don't know." Disappointed? Lonely? Heart-stricken? Betrayed? Jealous?

"In any case, I'm much stronger than you. Plus, it's my job to defend royalty, Empress."

I didn't think his job was the only reason for his devotion to Circe.

Cyprian sighed as if reading my mind. "Look, Flower. I love Circe. I always will, but my wanting to find her isn't just so I can be with her like that. She's my friend more than anything. She's one of my first memories, all my happiest moments. Her family made sure I was cared for after I was abandoned. I keep thinking that I might have used these powers to protect her, not that I've figured them out yet.

"I don't want to find her just because I want to be with her. I want to find her for the same reason you want to find your friend. Because she's always been my whole world. My life has always been about her. I'm Circe's guard. Circe's friend. The man in love with Circe. I don't know how to be without her... If I'm not the man searching for Circe... If I actually let go when I can feel her influence like it's a part of me, like she's physically there. To think she's actually gone, it means my life has lost all it's meaning because everything I've ever been is about her."

"You have meaning without Circe." I mumbled, lacing my fingers in his.

"Do I?" Cyp shook his head. "I don't think so. Lately, I've been thinking about her less and less. What will I do if I stop thinking about her? I'll be nothing."

"You'll be what you've been this whole time, with or without her," I answered. "It might not be the greatest fate, but you were born an Arcana. You were chosen by gods to fulfill a destiny that has nothing to do with Circe. And besides that, you'll be brave and charming and handsome and a fighter and a friend and a hundred other things you are without Circe. None of us met you as Circe's guard. We met you as Cyprian Marsoine, and you won us over all on your own."

He closed his eyes as I spoke, remaining silent for several breaths after I was finished. When Cyp finally looked at me, one eyebrow was raised, dragging the right side of his mouth up with it. "You think I'm handsome, Flower?"

I rolled my eyes. "You hardly need to hear me say that again."

"But I'd certainly like to anyway." He poked the tip of my nose, sending color blooming from the point of contact, enveloping my cheeks in a blush. "Please?"

"No."

"What if I told you that I think you're very beautiful?"

"Would you be telling the truth?" I prayed my tone was casual, but I was almost positive he could hear the flutter of my pounding heart. With every excited beat the pain in my gut ebbed as if my wound was dissipating due to Cyprian's words.

"Flower-" he kissed the top of my hand, his lips sending a jolt up my arm and down my spine- "I think your beauty is breathtaking, natural, mesmerizing. I'm thinking about Circe less because I'm thinking about you; sometimes it feels like I don't even have a choice but to think about you."

The pain vanished, replaced by a tickling warmth in my stomach. My tongue was dry and I needed to lick my lip just to get words to pass them. "Was there ever any doubt I found you handsome? From the first moment I saw you, injured and dying I thought you were the most handsome man I'd ever seen. Obviously that impression has only improved."

Cyprian's smirk faded and he actually smiled, genuine and unguarded. It struck me how much younger he looked when he wasn't mocking or brooding. I freed my hand from his grasp, reaching up to trace the facets of his bare chest. As I smoothed my fingers along his muscles his fingers tightened very slightly on my forearm and I brought my gaze to his face; his eyes glistened with something I couldn't identify; a muscle flickered in his jaw. I reached higher, towards his face, wishing to caress that ticking muscle. I leaned forward, pushing myself up to a sitting position, then gasped as pain rushed back towards my stomach. So maybe I wasn't completely healed yet.

"Easy, Ayesha." As Cyp cradled my back and lowered me down, the discomfort subsided. "Are you warm enough? Thirsty? Tell me what else you need?"

What did I need? In this moment, I knew exactly what I needed, what every fiber in my body needed. I licked my lips, blinking up at Cyp. "Kiss me?" The hoarse whisper hardly escaped my throat. Asking was humiliating, but I couldn't resist. "Please?"

"There's nothing I'd like to do more." He eased himself to my level, studying my face. He cupped my cheek, turning my my face to his. "Thank you, Ayesha." His breath fanned across my face until finally his lips met mine.

Heat coursed through me, adrenaline pumping through my racing heart. My lips molded to his. I gripped his forearms then slid my hands to the back of his neck. As if taking my embrace as encouragement, deepening the kiss and tangling his hand in my hair. His chest pressed lightly against mine.

Even as my pulse thrummed and my flesh tingled, I couldn't help but worry. My heart swelled, straining to burst through my chest for Cyprian, but... Could he ever truly let Circe go? Could he feel for me as I was feeling for him, or would I only ever be his second choice?

Cyp's nose brushed my cheek. He whispered my name against my lips sending its echo down my back. I stole a glance at his face, his shut eyes directly above mine. My eyes slid closed as I let him kiss my doubts away.

I curled my fingers into his hair, pulling him closer against me. Energy coursed through my veins, energy and alertness. Had I truly been so tired before? I awoke to Cyprian. My skin burned wherever he touched, my glyphs whorling flames under his hands; I wanted him to ignite me.

As he eased his lips away from mine, I nipped down upon his bottom lips in an effort to reclaim his intoxicating kiss. When my teeth met his skin, his eyes flew open, but his grin slipped from my hold. I frowned my disappointment until his sizzling breath found my neck. At the first kiss along my throat, my mouth parted in a gasp as tingles erupted across my skin. I gripped his shoulders, my toes curled, and my head fell back against my log pillow to grant him better access.

Somehow, though I could never guess how, a spot of color tore my attention away from Cyprian's addictive kisses. I turned my head slightly, eyes wide with awe. "Cyp." He kissed along my jawline, but my excitement had relocated. "Cyp!"

"Hm?" he groaned against my skin, not looking up.

"Cyprian!" I shifted beneath him, squirming out of his embrace.

For an instant his hands tightened on my wrists, holding me in place, but finally he sat up, frowning. "What?"

I was on my knees, any pain a memory, crawling towards the little miracle that proved even more enticing than Cyp's kisses. "Look!" Tybira might have brought my tiny bilberry bush to strengthen me, but the effect must have been mutual. The little plant had grown to triple its previous size, leaves stretching towards me as as if I was the sun, the vines, though far thicker, sagged under the weight of countless ripe berries.

My grin was massive, filling my face and practically brightening the world. My mind felt sharp, alert, almost buzzing with vigor. I'd done this; I'd made us a food source that could replenish itself. As I caressed the delicate stem, the bush wrapped around my wrist.

Cyp curled his arm around my waist, earning a shrill giggle in response. He tugged me against his chest. "I don't suppose I deserve any thanks for such an ample harvest."

His breath ghosting across my neck made me shiver, but I forced myself to roll my eyes. "Because suddenly you're the one who has a way with plants?"

I could feel his laugh vibrate through his chest. "Maybe not. But it seems I have a way with the one who has a way with plants."

He might have had a point. Not only had my bilberries flourished, but it was as if I'd never been injured. I was invigorated, strengthened. Energy pumped through my limbs. After so long of misery, so long, so numb to the sorrow I ceased to truly feel it, I was awake, finally feeling something other than fear and grief. I leaned against Cyp's embrace and plucked the plumpest, ripest berry on the bush. My hand knew exactly where it would be. At the brush of my fingers, the vine let the fruit go, and the morsele dropped into my palm. I presented the prize to Cyp. "The first taste. Is that worthy payment?"

Cyp smirked. "Well, I could think of a few other ways you could repay me, but I suppose this will do." He snatched the berry with his teeth, then planted a fleeting kiss upon my lips. "Delicious. And you know, Flower, if you've got some energy back, but still want to sleep..? I've got some ideas."

Blushing, I wiggled off Cyp's lap and turned my back on him, casting his shirt aside. I peered down at my dress, mud caked, blood soaked, and torn. Prying open the gaping hole caused by Chesed's horn, I inspected my abdomen. Though it was time consuming to rub away the layer of dried blood, when I finally removed enough of the red and black flakes, my smile only grew; my skin was quite pale, but fresh and completely intact. If not for the crusted blood and the gaping hole in my dress, there was no evidence I'd been injured at all.

Cyp peeked over my shoulder, prompting me to yank the tattered fabric over my bare stomach. "Hate to mention it, Flower, but it might be time to say goodbye to that dress."

I frowned. Though I'd be thrilled to be ride of the outfit that had once been given by Amire in effort to woo me, the tattered rags were the only clothes I had. "What would you suggest? I wander around naked?"

"Well, I wouldn't object to that." At my glare he raised his hands, then snatched his shirt from the ground. "But I've got a solution that you'd certainly enjoy: wear my shirt. It'll probably look like a dress on you, and I'm willing to make due without it until we manage to find you something else to wear. But all that blood and mud isn't good. If that layer gets much thicker it might start to slow you down, and we can't afford that."

"You'd go shirtless for who knows how many days?"

"Flower, it's a shirt. It's not armor. It doesn't protect me, so it's really no loss. Besides, something tells me you'd enjoy seeing me without it all the time. And don't worry, you'll make it up to me eventually."

I deliberated. Where my dress wasn't torn, the mud had hardened, solid stone weighing me down. I certainly didn't mind the idea of a permanently shirtless Cyp, but I wasn't excited for his chest to be out in the open for anyone, friend or foe, to see. I scratched at my dress, discovering yet another rip I hadn't been aware of. "Fine. But don't look."

"Wouldn't dream of it." Cyp tossed me his shirt, then covered his eyes with a hand.

It was surprisingly difficult to free myself of my dress. Fabric clung to my skin, plastered on with clay. I winced as blood and dirt ripped away with the material. What had once been an expensive, beautiful gown, the red dye a show of Amire's massive wealth had become a shredded, colorless bundle of rags in a heap on the ground, the remnant of a murderer's deceit. 

My undergarments were hardly in better shape, but I wouldn't dare part with them.

I tried, without success, to clean my body. With each clump of mud or flake of blood that fell away, twice as much remained.  Perhaps a long soak in a river, whenever we managed to find more than a trickle, would do it; until then, I was a living sculpture.

As I reached for Cyp's shirt, I glanced over at him. Cyprian's fingers were parted it reveal his twinkling eyes, his smirk gargantuan. 

"Bastard," I spat, trying in vain to cover myself, though I knew that couldn't erase what the Hanged Man had already seen. Whatever bits of my flesh that weren't permanently mud gray were surly flaming red.

Cyprian recovered his eyes, shoulders shaking with laughter.

Grumbling curses against him, I hauled his shirt over my head. I swallowed at the promiscuity of my new outfit: the shirt fell just to my knees, allowing my calves to be completely visible. The sleeves fell far past my hands, but I managed to roll them up. I felt as if I was swimming in insurmountable rolls of fabric.

"Okay..." I couldn't believe how short this would-be dress was. Anyone could see my legs, and much to my dismay, that was exactly where Cyp's gaze landed.

"I knew I liked this idea." He grinned.

I fidgeted under his riveted gaze. When I attempted to pull the bottom lower, I only suceeded in yanking the top lower as well; I almost yelped as my chest fell completely into view. Pulling the shirt in both directions, I wondered if I'd be better off in Amire's gown. At least that fell past my ankles.

Cyp tugged my hands away, setting them limp at my sides. He rubbed my shoulder, curling a finger under my chin and lifting my face to his. "You look perfect, Ayesha. Don't worry, you look perfect. And if anyone so much as looks at you funny, they'll be answering to me."

He wrapped his arms around me, engulfing me in his embrace. I tucked my face into his bare chest and let him play with my hair. Every so often he'd place a kiss on my head, or the back of my neck until I was smiling against him.

A yell pierced our quiet. In sync we looked up; a dark streak sped across the sky, spinning, looping, and whooping.

Gabriel flew five loops in a row, spinning directly into a row of twists. Without slowing, he climbed higher and higher, then stopped. For a moment he stilled, suspended, wings spread, until he fell backward. His wings remained limp beneath him as he plummeted to the earth. A heartbeat before he crashed, he flipped over, righting himself and propelling into the sky. His whooping laughs and yells followed him as he streaked into a cloud.

Leaning against him, I could feel Cyprian stiffen. "He must be healed. We were too late. Now he'll be even more anxious to get to the Lovers."

I stared up at Cyp's handsome face, contorted in a furious scowl as he watched the Archangel's victory flight. His eyes held worry and anger for this new development, but as I turned my gaze back to the sky to watch Gabriel dart through puffy cloud after cloud, my smile never faltered--it only widened.

((Sorry this one took forever. This has been the hardest chapter for me to write so far, though I'm sure I'll find one even harder. I was just never happy with it, but this version is by far the best and I hope you enjoyed it. Sorry not a lot of plot happened, but I AyeshaXCyp fans might be happy! And now they even have food. But Gabriel is back at full strength? Do you think that'll mean trouble?

Don't know when the next chapter will be out, things have been crazy lately. But I've decided that in two more chapters we'll revisit Cyprian's point of view for some major moments. Until then, enjoy this lighter chapter. I thought Ayesha deserved a reason to smile as she steadily nears Aphrodisia, unless of course they get out of Gabriel's deal.))