//AN: Pic is of Yesmine.//

72,493 years ago...

Beginning of Story

The first thing Den does upon stumbling into a new world is look for a beach.

Whether it's because he truly loves the water or because the water makes him sad, or if those two things are the same thing, he's never really bothered to analyze.

The world that he finds himself in is rather average, ruled by humans who seem to be... well, average.

The world isn't bad. Neither is it good.

The scents around him speak of differing influences, though, rather interesting influences. There are some sort of Fae here--though they seem to be as weak and pathetic as the Fae from Zar--and another, more powerful sort of being. Den doesn't like the vibes he gets from that scent, or the memories that stir.

If nothing else, this world--the name of which he still needs to learn, as he's only been here for less than an hour--has a very nice ocean.

Den sits on the beach, far enough away from other people that he won't be bothered, and watches the turquoise water crash in and out. There isn't anything like the sound of the ocean. In all his years, he's never come across anything like it in any world.

He always feels nostalgic, sitting in places like this, in world he hasn't yet explored. There was a time, a very long time ago, when there would have been a pretty young healer sitting by his side.

Or hiding behind him to get away from the scary water.

Den sighs to himself. He doesn't know why he can't make the thoughts go away, why he can't stop torturing himself with the memories.

It's been... stars. It's been a very, very long time.

Almost five hundred thousand years since she died. He'll never forget the color of her eyes or the sound of her laugh.

Or the sound of her screaming.

He rubs at his face. He doesn't want to forget, but moving on... that would be nice. Marr'ia helped. Others like her, too.

But they aren't Enna.

And--Den frowns, dragged from his thoughts by the sound of actual screaming.

He tilts his head, listening, searching until he finds the source--several miles away on a cliff overlooking the sea. He sighs again. He didn't come here to play the hero, but he's never been one to sit by and do nothing either.

Enna would have killed him if he did that.

Den drops through a silver-amber portal, landing on the rocky cliff a few feet behind the young couple.

Or not so young, he notes, frowning at the scent coming off the male.

"Vikael stop!" The girl demands, struggling in the male's grip. Den pinches the bridge of his nose before he stalks forward, sighing heavily.

Why do these idiots continually plague him? Why must there always be some worthless piece of flesh who feels the need to force himself on a woman? Why, why, why?

There are few things Den feels more hatred--and exasperation--for.

His fingers close around the back of the man's neck, tangling in his auburn hair. Despite him being twice Den's size and just as tall, Den hauls him up easily and throws him several feet. A snap of his fingers clothes the poor girl, since her previous attire is rather... shredded.

The male--Vikael--climbs to his feet with a rather animalistic look on his face. He's trying to be intimidating. Den finds it pathetic.

Movement from his right catches Den's eye as Vikael advances, and Den arches an amused brow as the girl--very angry herself--darts past him with a sword in her hand. Now free of his grip, she isn't hindered by Vikael's presence, and the imbecile doesn't stand a chance.

Den watches him fall, the girl's sword through his chest, and that brow doesn't lower. Vikael's expression is one of disbelief as the light fades from his eyes.

The girl spits on his body. "Noble scum," she mutters. "I should have listened to my dad." She yanks her sword free and kicks the body off the edge of the cliff.

Den watches it fall and then looks back at the girl, still amused.

The sword disappears and the girl turns to him with a curious look in her hazel eyes. Her reddish hair is falling out of its braid, and she's very young, he notes.

"I would say you're welcome," Den says dryly, waving a hand, "but I don't think you actually needed me."

The girl blows a strand of hair out of her face and smiles. "Well, you did speed up the process. So thanks for that."

Den nods once. "You're welcome."

She walks closer, extending a hand. "Yesmine."

"Den," he says, accepting the offered handshake.

Yesmine tilts her head, looking at him--or rather his ears, he notices, her hazel eyes lingering on the long elfin points and the iron guards covering them.

"Somehow I doubt you're one of the elves from around here, or that you are just an elf."

"Correct," Den says, smirking faintly.

Yesmine purses her lips. "What are you?"

"Something you are far too young to recognize," he says, waving a hand. He has no desire to think about the gods-Fae at the moment. He would much rather be distracted from such thoughts, in fact.

Yesmine frowns. "I may be young, doesn't mean I don't know things." She huffs and starts... climbing down the cliff face. Den is amused.

"You misinterpreted me," he says, standing on the edge to look down at her.

She looks up at him. "Did I?"

"Yes," Den says.

"You're great at this whole clarifying thing," she mutters dryly, then lets go of the cliff. She falls, twisting in the air so she's angled downward, and disappears beneath the surface of the water far below a moment later.

Den arches a brow and debates following her.

He does still need information about this world. And she's rather interesting. There's also the fact that he could use a distraction.

With a shrug, Den drops through a portal to the rocky beach which curls around the other side of the cliff. There aren't any other people around in this area, which makes it much more comfortable.

Den sits on a rock a few feet into the water itself and watches the planes of the sea, waiting for the girl to come back up.

A few moments later, her head bobs above the surface, and her eyes narrow on him thoughtfully. "So? Are you capable of clarifying at all?"

"Yes," Den says.

Yesmine sighs and swims over, placing her arms on the rock to lean her head against them. "Not very talkative, are you?"

No, he isn't. But he's been working on that.

"It's a work in progress," he tells her, shrugging.

Yesmine grins and pulls herself up to plop on the rock next to him. "Excellent. I can help."

Den chuckles, eying the water that drips from her onto him--and perhaps her, as well. The rock is not very big. And her clothes are very wet. "Can you?"

She nods. "You can start by using more words," she tells him slowly, as if speaking to a child. Den snorts.

"I'll use more words when they're necessary, and not before." He smirks. "If you desire my conversation, you'll have to be more interesting."

Yesmine scoffs. "I really don't care to have your conversation in particular. So either you say something interesting, or I'll go find someone else to converse with."

Den makes a thoughtful sound, then says, "Something interesting."

Yesmine tries to stifle a laugh, but doesn't entirely succeed. "That's not what I meant," she says, and tries to frown, but the smirk is winning.

"No?" Den tsks. "Perhaps you should do a better job of clarifying."

Yesmine glares at him for a moment, then kicks him into the water. Den lets himself fall, enjoying the cool embrace of the water for a moment before he surfaces and arches a brow up at her.

"If you wanted me to have to remove my clothes, darling, you could have just asked."

Teasing. He's teasing her. Interesting.

Yesmine gives him a dry look. "No, I wanted you wet, not naked."

Den smirks. "Both can be arranged."

She arches a brow. "Oh, so now who wants who naked?"

Den hops up onto the rock again, pulling the long strands of his silver hair around to wring the water from them. As he does, she kicks him off again.

This time Den catches himself, falling through a portal instead of into the water. He lands on the rock behind her and casually kicks her into the sea.

Yesmine gives a little cry of surprise as she falls, and Den reclaims his rock, perfectly dry from his trip through the portal.

The girl surfaces again with a glare, spitting salt water from her mouth.

Den merely arches a brow.

Yesmine huffs and climbs back onto the rock. "You're annoying," she says, plopping down beside him, a bit closer than she was before.

"I don't think you believe that," Den says, leaning back on his hands. The rock is warm beneath his palms.

"Key word being 'think'," she says, kicking him lightly.

Den kicks her back, and absently wonders why he feels so... comfortable. He just met this girl, and Den--more than anyone--does not trust easily.

Well, he doesn't trust her. He also doesn't fear her, or consider her a threat, so that could be part of it. Even if she does attack him, and he doesn't think she will, Den isn't worried.

Besides, he was looking for a distraction, and she's interesting. If she has somehow managed to put him a rare teasing mood, all the better.

He could use a good mood every now and again, to remind himself that he's still a person.

"And yet you're still sitting next to me," he says, arching a brow again.

"It appears I am," she says simply.

Den chuckles and decides that he may as well use the opportunity to get some information. "Tell me something," he says, tilting his head at her. "Where are we?"

She arches a brow at him. "On a rock in the ocean."

Den sighs. He supposes he had that one coming. "This place," he says dryly. "Well, this world in general. I'm not from around here."

"No, I didn't guess that," she says, also dryly. Den arches a brow and waits for her to answer his question. "Tell me what you are, and where you're from, and I'll consider answering your questions," she says, then lays back on the rock to look up at the sky.

The amusement he feels at her ultimatum--and her lack of decorum, as that position is exposing quite a bit of skin--isn't quite enough to stop him from sighing heavily.

Good moods, he decides, are pointless. They never last.

"I'm Fae," he says, because it's better than having to explain something he knows she won't understand or recognize. "And I'm from a world called Zar, very far away from here."

Yesmine looks at him for a second. "But you're not a regular Fae..." she makes a thoughtful sound and sits up again, looking at him curiously. "You feel more powerful."

Den looks out at the water and doesn't respond.

"It's almost like one of my kind had a baby with an elf, and you are the result. Except, you are a full-blooded elf... so does that mean the type of Fae you are, are like the Lescaeans from where you are from?"

Not a single word of that makes sense to Den.

He stares at the water.

Fantastic, he's reverting again. Words. Words would be good.

Stars.

Why is it that when he's working, it's so easy to be alive? But when he's not... there's a silence worse than death.

Yesmine places a hand on his shoulder. "Is something wrong?"

Yes. She's asking questions he doesn't feel like answering right now. Which is strange, because he normally doesn't have a problem answering those questions.

He's just... nostalgic. He feels very nostalgic and this is one of those times, he thinks, that he'd rather be alone.

He says, "A great many things, none of which are your fault."

Yesmine looks thoughtful. "Anything I could help with? I've been told I'm a great listener."

"You could start by not asking questions I don't want to answer," Den says. Then he sighs. "I'm sorry. You've caught me at a bad moment, I'm not in the best of moods."

"Well I'm sorry for apparently asking something that put you in a bad mood," she says, and bites her bottom lip, which is rather distracting.

Den shakes his head. "I was in a bad mood before."

"Okay... so how do we fix that?"

It's interesting that she uses the word 'we'. She doesn't even know him. For all she knows he could be a psychopathic murderer.

Who is he kidding, he is a psychopathic murderer.

"Let's do something fun," he says. Fun. Hah. He's turning sentimental in his old age.

"What do you consider 'fun'?" She asks curiously.

Den shrugs. "Interesting would be a better word to use. Let's do something interesting."

"Okay, so substitute the word 'fun' with 'interesting' in my previous question," she says with a wry smile. Den chuckles.

"Anything that isn't boring."

"This clarifying thing, we talked about it." She rolls her eyes, and Den shrugs.

"I told you, I'm not from around here. I don't know what's interesting in this world."

"Well, you have me, and then the list ends."

Den laughs, and tries to decide if she means that the way he's inclined to take it. Probably not. Before he can think of something to actually say, Yesmine stands and pushes him off the rock again.

This time she jumps off after him, and Den arches a brow when they've both surfaced. Water drips from his hair down his face, and though it feels wonderful, it isn't something he wants to be focusing on right now.

Yesmine splashes him.

Den snorts water, shaking his head, and forces away the sound of screaming.

"The beach," he says. "Land. Land is interesting."

Then he portals them both away, taking them several miles up the beach and away from that stretch of water. Away from the water in general, since the ocean is now some distance from them.

Den is very glad to be dry.

She looks at him, then the ocean, then back at him. "You should have said if you had a problem with water," she says softly, frowning to herself. Den curses himself.

"It's not your fault," he says, shaking his head once. "It's..." he waves a hand. "Usually I don't mind. I like the water. It's just sometimes..." he sighs, rubs his face. "My mate drowned."

Well, and that doesn't even begin to cover the story. But he doesn't feel like talking about it any more than he feels like seeing Yesmine blame herself for something that isn't her fault. So he says the words, and hopes it's an ending.

Yesmine stares at him for a long moment before she moves. And Den blinks at her, because she's... hugging him.

Den can't remember the last time anyone hugged him.

He stands there for a moment, unsure of what he's supposed to do in this situation. Yesmine just continues hugging him, so Den sighs a little and hugs her back.

Not that he knows why.

So they continue standing there, Yesmine's arms tight around him, and Den can't help but feel a bit of amusement curl through him again. He's never really understood hugging.

And he wonders if she realizes that she's pressing herself very tightly to a total stranger. While she's soaking wet.

Den wonders how much of a bastard he would be if he kissed her.

Probably not a good idea. Probably he should just accept her kind gesture and not make any more of it. Probably she's been through enough already today, especially when it comes to men wanting to take advantage of her.

The minutes slide by, and Yesmine doesn't let go, and Den decides that hugging, while pointless, is rather comfortable.

And, he has to admit that he feels marginally... better.

There isn't any judgement in a hug. No curiosity either. Which is nice.

Maybe hugging isn't so pointless.

After a very long while, Den pats her head and clears his throat. "Thank you," he says, then pauses for a moment. "Though you should probably let go now."

Yesmine pulls away to look up at him, but doesn't actually let go.

Den looks down at her and focuses on her eyes. Her face. Those are good things to focus on. Not her wet clothes and everything revealed beneath them. Everything that has been pressed up against him for too long already.

Stars. She's been nothing but nice, and now he's thinking about taking her to his bed. He should stop.

And that alone is a marvel. Den can't remember the last time he bothered to stop himself from seducing a woman.

After a moment, Yesmine releases him, stepping back. "Right. Letting go. I was doing that."

She is really, really not making this easy.

"You never did tell me where we are," he says, trying to distract himself.

"Hmm?" She asks, as if coming out of a daze. "Oh, right. Kracia, the Leuan beaches." She still sounds distracted, and she's trying not to look at him--or trying to only look at his face. She is definitely not helping his situation.

"You mentioned something called... Lescaeans?" He needs a distraction. He needs one very badly.

She nods. "My... species I guess you could say. It's just a fancy, unnecessary title in my opinion."

Den grins faintly. "It's not as bad as mine."

"Oh?"

Den nods slowly. "The pomposity..." he sighs. "They called themselves 'gods-Fae'."

Yesmine tilts her head curiously, looking at him a bit more easily now. "Perhaps our kinds do have a lot in common."

"It would not surprise me," Den says.

"Well, if they try to kill everyone who doesn't agree with them, then I wouldn't be shocked if they have the same common ancestor."

"Did," Den says, his tone suddenly hard. "They did try that. Well, they succeeded most of the time." His tone is suddenly far off, and he tries very hard to pull it back, shrugging his shoulders. "Except with me."

"They're all gone?" She asks, softly, almost cautiously.

Den nods once. "I'm the last."

"I want to say I'm sorry... since there has to have been people you cared about gone with the bad ones... but I know how bad the bad ones are... so I'm torn... sorry for the ones you lost?"

Den looks at her for a long moment. Then he says, "It's... lonely. But they had already taken everyone I loved by then."

Yesmine reaches out to him again, then kind of drops her hand. "I'm tempted to hug you again..."

Den grins wryly. "I'm not objecting. But if you touch me again, I'm not going to be responsible for what happens."

Yesmine blinks at him. "Uhm... let's pretend I don't know what that means... and then I hug you anyway, yes?"

Den arches a brow. "The situation remains the same regardless of your prior knowledge..."

She blows a strand of unruly reddish hair out of her eyes again. "In which case, I'm a little torn..." she looks thoughtful.

Den sits down on the sand cross legged. "Take your time."

She drops in front of him, also cross legged. "You're not like the men I've met before," she says. "And you strangely remind me of my dad."

Den arches a brow. "That puts a damper on things."

"I just mean you don't seem like a bad guy... and my dad is like the only Lescaean male I know who is not a bad person... well, apart from Gorrum, he's good too... but probably because he's not a noble or a royal, just a candle maker, and has known my mom for a very long time. So, yeah... you just don't give me any bad vibes..."

Den decides that she's adorable. "I'm a very bad guy, Yesmine," he says calmly. "And when I leave, I won't come back for a very long time, if ever."

She purses her lips again, narrowing her eyes thoughtfully. "No, I don't think you are a bad guy. I know bad guys, you aren't like them. I don't see what leaving has to do with anything... I mean, a long time, how does one even judge that when you get to live forever?" She bites her lip, as if to cut herself off. Den tries not to study the line of her mouth too closely.

"Regardless of my moral compass," Den says dryly, "the situation we are discussing is a rather intimate one. Most women might not want their first experience to be with a man they'll likely never see again."

Yesmine blushes, unable to look at him. Which is not helping.

"Take your time," Den says, his tone still dry.

"I... I am at a loss for words. Congratulations," she says, halfway between flustered and wry.

Den grins faintly.

Yesmine finally looks back at him, as if studying him. Den studies her in return, waiting for her to make her decision. His is already made.

She doesn't move--toward him or away. Which might very well be her version of having decided.

Den remains where he is, amused.

Moments pass between them, and Den leans one elbow on his knee, resting his chin in his hand. Yesmine shifts, just the slightest bit closer. Den doesn't move, one corner of his mouth twitching in amusement.

She's utterly adorable.

When she finally breaks, she stands. Even as she's moving, Den reaches out and grabs her wrist, pulling her back down.

Into his lap.

She makes a little sound of surprise, and Den grins faintly down at her. "Was that so hard?"

She frowns at him and crosses her arms, huffing.

Den takes her chin between two fingers, tilting her head up to his. "You," he tells her, still very calm, "are adorable."

She blushes again, and Den kisses her.