Chapter 11 - Bat

Iris

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Valkre sighed as he closed the door behind them. The inn's rooms were plain and worn, the wallpaper that clung to the walls peeling and yellowed, a simple mattress pushed in a shady corner with thin sheets and a single pillow. The landowner had apparently given up on trying to hold on to the furniture- the dresser was an empty skeleton, drawers having been taken away for probably no greater use than to be burned as kindling, mirror shattered and cracked too many times to be worth stealing.
The hunter set down the knapsack as he took a seat on the edge of the bed and pulled off his boots. Outside, night was falling. They had spent the full day walking to the town, and he had to admit that the unforgiving landscape and rocky ground made even his own feet ache. The pace they'd set had started out fine, but Valkyre had noticed Iris tiring late into the morning, so he'd been forced to slow down. The time they'd made was poorer than he'd wanted to, but they'd still reached the town by nightfall, which was fine. A dry, meager lunch had to satisfy them until they got a warm meal at the inn. Now, as the stars were blinking to life, Valkyre had decided to spend a little of his dwindling gold and silver to rent them rooms for the night and risk the inn.
It was more of a matter of being recognized that he was afraid of- Valkyre had left behind the other city to try and avoid more hunters, and the threat of being recognized. He had to admit that he and Iris had drawn a bit of attention coming here, but this town was well-known for turning a blind eye to criminals wanted by the state, so he considered it a decent place to hide; easy to reach, but safe enough. At least, he hoped that it would be.
Valkyre still had no plans as to what he wanted to, or was going to, do with Iris. But he knew that he needed to learn more, needed to understand him better. Something was coming, he could feel it. Something would happen.
"Iris." The boy had quietly slipped off his sandals and tucked them against the edge of the bed, the hooded cloak he'd worn now folded up in a neat bundle and left on the bare dresser table. Valkyre avoided the boy's eyes as he fidgeted uneasily with the edge of a sleeve, still unnerved by the other's unwavering eyes and stifling silence.
"...Why do you follow me?"
Valkyre couldn't have answered the question had Iris been the one to ask it, but he wanted to know why the boy stuck by him. A hunter should not be partnered with his prey, he thought, even though he knew that they had, somehow, moved beyond that false facade.
The boy smiled, something light that threatened to reach his cool marble eyes. "...Because." Iris sighed softly, drawing his legs up against his body on the edge of the bed. "...We need each other. Don't we?"
Valkyre blinked, mildly surprised. He didn't want to agree with the boy, but the answer was what he was probably thinking somewhere deep down, though he would never have used the particular words the other had.
"...Maybe," he muttered, turning his eyes away again. What was it about him? Iris acted so differently than anyone else he'd ever known... so often apathetic, but then again, the flickers of emotions he saw, that he knew had to be there somewhere underneath those blank gray eyes...
"Iris." Valkyre forced himself to hold the other's gaze, trying to see into the dusky stone. He found nothing.
"Last night... What happened? You... Your eyes, they..." he trailed off, immediately seeing that what he'd brought up had made the boy uneasy. Iris was the one to avert his eyes now, thin lips drawn tight together as he curled up onto himself.
"...I'm not sure," he murmured, thin fingers brushing the crumpled ripples of the bedsheets. "...I think... the demon..." the boy broke off, shaking his head. "I don't know," he breathed in a soft sigh.
Valkyre shifted his legs, moving slightly closer to the other.
"...Where did you come from, Iris?"
The boy turned to face him, expression carefully guarded, brows crinkled in thought, in memory. When he at last replied, his voice was hushed to a whisper.
"...I remember... the lab."
Valkyre let out a long breath, something fluttering, perhaps like hope, smothered as the boy had spoken.
Then it was true. Iris had been nothing more than an experiment in the labs. Some creation of the scientists, nothing more than theory and human mechanics, a twisting of nature.
Hard to find a purpose to life if you were created from the whim and fancy of humans.
"...I see," he commented quietly. Valkyre decided it was best not to inquire any further on the subject. Iris was silent, face turned away from him.
The angel sighed again to himself, then dug around inside of his knapsack. He didn't really have anything he needed to get out, but he needed something to do, anything. The silence then was stifling him, choking him.
"Valkyre."
The hunter glanced up at the boy's soft voice, brow raised, face kept still and emotionless. "...Yes?"
"...You won't ever take me near the labs, will you?"
Valkyre studied Iris carefully. The boy's face was also kept straight and blank, but he could hear the tinge of it in his voice. Fear.
"...No," he spoke his words slowly, picking them. "I won't. ...Did something bad happen there?"
Iris blinked, but did not turn his eyes away. "...The men," he whispered, "They want me back..."
Valkyre took this all in slowly, casually rummaging through the bag's leather pockets again.
"I see then. So you're running away from the labs?"
Iris moved closer, close enough for the angel to feel the boy's soft breath brush his bare neck. "Maybe," he whispered.
The hunter looked up at Iris for a moment, startled as he realized quite how close the boy was. He drew back, but was stopped as the other put a hand on his own. Valkyre blinked, watched as Iris turned his hand up and gently loosened his fingers from what he'd been holding, without even realizing it.
It was a pen. Valkyre's dark violet eyes immediately recognized it, from the simple, smooth form to the tapered, diamond tip.
"...This?"
Iris looked up at him, then down as the boy plucked the pen lightly from the angel's palm, small fingers running over the burnished black length, deep and gleaming.
Valkyre didn't reply, only pulled back the sleeve of his right arm. The flowing, swirled patterns of curled vines, coiled snakes, and sad crescents stood out; rich, deep black on his pale skin, the flickering, split tongue of a small snake tracing the faint blue of a vein on his wrist, before it was hidden by the edge of the glove.
The pen Iris held in his careful hands was the one that Valkyre had used to draw the tattoos on himself.
The hunter pulled the sleeve over his arm again, then took the pen back, laying it on top of the knapsack. He was shaking his head, lips drawn tightly.
"Valkyre."
His amethyst eyes flickered up to the boy. Iris was leaning over him again, head tilted slightly to one side, expressionless.
"...Can you do one for me?"
The angel blinked, sitting up. The question had surprised him; out of all of the things he'd expected the boy to ask, this was not one of them. "...Why?" He finally asked, still confused.
Iris smiled. "...Because," he stated simply.
Valkyre frowned, picking up the pen again and running his fingers along the smooth sides. What was the boy doing now? Was this some sort of test he was playing? A game?
"...A bat."
The angel looked up to find the boy still smiling at him, head tilted slightly to one side. His eyes were almost warm, but Valkyre still couldn't read anything underneath them.
"...Will you do it?"
The hunter still paused. He found that, though he tried to lean more about Iris, what the boy always did ended up something more than he'd expected, something new that showed itself, wrapped up in more and more unknowns.
"...Alright."
Iris smiled softly. The boy calmly pulled off his worn white shirt, exposing alabaster skin, pale over his thin, perhaps gaunt frame. His body was lean, fragile, like porcelain.
Iris looked back at him calmly, the tearstone around his neck glinting brightly in the man-made light, as cold as the skin it rested on. The boy turned his back, no hint of shyness or fear in his face, in his actions.
"On your back?" Valkyre moved closer, brushed strands of the long, silvery-gray hair from the boy's ear and neck. It was soft and smooth to the touch, sighing as it slipped from his fingers.
Iris nodded faintly, glancing back briefly over his shoulder, smile still in his colorless eyes. "...Just a small bat."
"...Where?" Valkyre gathered up the boy's hair, twisting it a few times to get it to stay together, then draped it over Iris' right shoulder, to keep it out of the way. The hunter paused, hand hesitating over the bare of the boy's back. Exposed now from the tangled mane of hair, he noticed the faint, ragged white scar lines running up Iris' back, two long, pale gashes... Where the wings should've been.
Valkyre frowned. That wasn't possible. Wings were, more often than not, more astral than actually physical- they never ripped clothing, and shouldn't tear flesh either. Then again...
The hunter shook his head, deciding that it was another of the topics that he'd leave to figure out later. He paused, then pulled off the glove on his right hand. The cool air felt unfamiliar on the bared skin, and his fingers flexed quickly, unrestrained.
Valkyre picked up the pen again, testing it quickly by running it over a small area of the bedsheets. The ink, after a dry pause, flowed freely, rich black bright and contrasting on the white cloth, then fading away quickly to invisibility, as it had been created to do so. The ink was potent with magic, and sank only into living skin, as Valkyre knew only too well.
He touched the boy's back. It was chill, giving off no more warmth than the lifeless wooden boards of the floor, or the crystalline rock around Iris' neck. Valkyre wondered how he must feel, always so cold.
"...Are you sure about this?"
He didn't want to do this. He didn't want to burn the permanant ink onto the boy's skin. For him, it had been nothing more than making physical his own sins, whatever crimes he must've done to deserve what he received. It was not something for a boy already so tortured by his own simple existence, and not even of his own, but of the mindless fiddling of humans.
Iris only smiled, almost sadly. He didn't have to say anything.
Valkyre sighed, then let the pen tip touch the boy's skin, on a smooth patch at the top of Iris' back, near the left side of his shoulder and neck. Perhaps purposely to avoid the white scars of impossible wings. His movements were quick and smooth, the fine ink running like a river given life, following his every brush flawlessly. It settled into something like a rhythm, easy strokes that tapered off to fine points, an arc, then a pointed tip. The ink worked like a part of him, sinking quickly into the skin, like an acid burning its way into whatever it touched, burrowing beneath the surface, permenant.
Valkyre started, jerking the pen away. He'd done it again.
The bat was a flitting creature frozen in motion, fluttering wings outstretched, detailed to the tiny corners of its fingertips.
The angel scowled. He'd been stupid, getting himself carried away in the taunting, tantalizing flow of the smooth ink. It'd happened before, though he never really knew what was the cause. It was as if, if he could only lose himself for a moment, then he could forget everything else...
He let out an exasperated sigh. It would've been no big deal if he'd just been carving another meaningless swirl into his own skin, but he'd just etched something permenantly onto Iris...
"...Thank you."
Valkyre's amethyst eyes flickered up, surprised. Iris had turned around to face him, small fingers taking the hand that held the pen, gray eyes settled calmly on him. He wondered if the boy had even bothered to see the tattoo itself.
"Why?" he asked. He had messed up; couldn't he see that? "I-I shouldn't have..." Iris ignored him, eyes turning down.
"What's this...?"
The boy had taken his hand, pulling the pen away and placing it aside. His small, cool fingers traced the circular edge of the pattern on the back of Valkyre's hand. The hunter's first instinct was to pull away, but he quelled the feeling, holding his arm out stiffly, though his eyes dropped to the ground.
It was a rather intricate design, tangled in thorned vines and indistinguishable sswirls. A skull, a tainted blade, broken wings. Dark pools of ink, and ancient letters, drawn delicately as if to seem worn, faded.
Valkyre looked back up to see Iris staring at him, quietly, questioning. He pulled his hand away at last, pushing himself onto his feet and away from the bed. "It's... I..." he frowned at his own lack of words, having begun to pace again. Annoyed, he stepped over and flicked off the light switch. The bulbs blinked out, and he was left in the soft, kinder embrace of the darkness. Valkyre made his way back over to the bed, where he pulled the knapsack onto the floor, tucking the pen away into a small side pocket.
He pulled off his other glove and placed it, along with its retrieved twin, on the small tabletop next to the bed before undoing his belt, laden with small pockets and a few hidden knives, and kicked it into a corner.
Valkyre kept his lips drawn together in a thin line as he pulled off his jacket and long-sleeved shirt, which were sticky and dusty from the day's travel, ingrained with dried sweat and the salty dirt blown up from the ground. He had a sleeveless white shirt on underneath, and though it would be a bit cold, it was much more comfortable.
Iris crawled under the blankets as well, shirt crumpled up and left on top of the bed. Valkyre couldn't help but notice how delicate the boy seemed to be. His torso was lean and thin, stomach just about nonexistent, gently curved body almost feminine, childish.
The hunter sighed as he jerked his eyes away, too restless for now to sleep. He reclined against the bare wall the head of the bed was pressed to, letting his eyes drift close as he tried to relax. He was startled as Iris suddenly slipped over his legs under the blankets, curling up against him, head resting on his shoulder.
Valkyre felt his face flush slightly, stiffening immediately at the feel of the boy's bare skin brush his own, the cool, light body pressed on him. Wordlessly, Iris took his right hand again, small fingertips tracing over the design, following the sinuous body of a thin serpent.
Valkyre sighed, then let his body relax.
"...My master," he murmured, careful to keep his words low and soft. "He was the one that took me in. When he found me, everyone else in the house was... dead. I... He never told me why, but it must've been something horrible, like the ague or a disease. He was the only one who would've taken me out of there, no one else would've even..."
Valkyre paused, free hand running through the boy's long hair, turned silvery in the darkness. "...We weren't ever really friends, I-I know that. My master took care of me, and even taught me how to wield a blade, to some degree... But he made sure I wasn't confused- I was not someone he'd taken in out of pity, or remorse... He was just... a momentary guardian."
The hunter put his hand down, sighing. "...And then... He just bid me to go away one day, and... I did. I learned to take care of myself after that, and... I haven't seen him since."
Iris had let go of his hand, face pressed to his neck. Valkyre had begun to get used to the boy's coldness.
"...Do you miss him?" His words were soft, whispered.
The angel paused, pulled his legs away from under the boy, and carefully put his arms around Iris' shoulders. The boy relaxed easily, leaning back against him. Valkyre closed his eyes.
"...No, not really. I did not love him, and I didn't think of him as a parent, or a partner. A teacher, maybe. Someone who saw me and took me in, when no one else would've. ...That's all."
Iris' voice was even quieter, words slow. "...What was his name?"
"...Camael."
The boy didn't seem to react to the answer, or if he did, he didn't show it. Valkyre let his eyes drift closed. Iris' skin was still cold, but the areas that he'd remained in contact with had begun to warm up. The angel was still unsure about suddenly being so close to the boy, but a part of him wanted to comfort him, in whatever small way he could.
Iris' fingers traced the small bat tattoo on his shoulder, then his hand dropped into his lap again.
"Valkyre...?"
The hunter blinked open his eyes, and pulled the sheets up closer against them. "...Yes?"
There was a long pause. "...Do you know why your wings are black?"
Valkyre immediately turned his head away, hands stilled. "No," he said, voice surprisingly calm and even, "I don't."
And it was the truth. He had questioned it often enough, why he seemed so full of this sin whose origin he didn't know. It seemed to stain him, the sunlight that touched his skin screaming out the blatant facts and truth that he could only hide, could only become a part of at night. He had seen no other angels with black wings.
Iris had not said any more. Valkyre sighed, then pushed himself away. "...W-We should get some sleep," he muttered under his breath. The boy only nodded, pulling away from him slowly, as if reluctantly.
The hunter paused, then studied the single pillow. It wasn't exactly a time for etiquette, but he muttered, "Here, y-you can use it, I'm used to..."
Iris touched his shoulder, faint smile in the dim light soft, ethereal. "It's okay," he murmured, "We can share."
Valkyre wanted to protest, quite uneasy about the entire situation, but the boy had already lain down, wriggling closer to press his bare back against the angel's body. The other sighed, rolling his eyes slightly in exasperated defeat as he lay down as well.
He brushed the boy's cold shoulder, and pulled up the blankets around them both before hesitantly draping his arm over Iris' still form.
"...Are you cold?"
The boy snuggled closer in response, small hands holding onto Valkyre's own.
"...Not anymore," he whispered.

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AN: Gawd, this chapter took a while. x_X Well, it was rather long, but I got in the stuff I wanted [they weren't really explainations, more like just countless insinuations, hehe...]
Am I making too big a deal out of this stuff?? Is it too obvious?? Too confusing? Too annoying?!? XD
Hope not, but if it is, just tell me and I'll try to work on it. Hehe.
Well... lots more shonen-ai hints here, and I guess I'm planning on throwing in a lemon or somesuch in much, much later chapters [sorry] but this just isn't really the high lemon kinda story, right? ...I hope you don't think so. o_O
Well anyways. Oh, a note... I couldn't word it better, but do NOT think of the relationship with Valkyre and his former 'master' as yaoi or somesuch... trust me, it isn't. --; Once the characters are introduced, and the plotline really revealed... [You should get the basic jist in a few chappies' time, I hope...]
Actually, I've got the next... ...uhm, the next chappie planned out, and then... well... ...I dunno! XP I'm gonna need to brainstorm some more, ehehehe...
Oh, and about the tattooing... I don't really think of the tattoos that strongly when I came up with this, and when I imagine the charries... but it's made rather strong here... They're really just serving a purpose, ending up more permenant than I'd wanted them... Like the tattoo on Valkyre's hand, it's just a way to get him talkin' and quickly explaining his past. ^^; Not much past there, anyways... Tch...
Well.
Anyways, this was a rather long chapter, so I hope it keeps you guys happy for the time being...
Oh, oh! Another note! I got a fanart for this already! XD DefyDeath_DefyMe, thank you very much, she has drawn a loverly little piccy of my Iris baby. Hehehe. [Though, to be honest, Deffy, he sounds a little... evil/sadistical there... O_o Not like there's anything wrong with the little maniacal, sadistical types... ehehehe...]
It's beautiful! Makes me so happy!
So everyone, happy new year [almost forgot that!] and hope to see you all soon. Please don't give up on me, I promise to forever write more! XD
Thank you! ::bows, then wanders off, singing something about spiders::

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