Table of Contents

heartsways - The Thirteenth Way: Loyalties

LOST GIRL - BO/LAUREN

“Ways To Tell You I’m Sorry” series

The Thirteenth Way: Loyalties

heartsways

Title: Ways To Tell You I’m Sorry - The Thirteenth Way: Loyalties

Author: heartsways

Rating: NC–17

Fandom: Lost Girl

Pairing: Bo/Lauren

Disclaimer: All television shows, movies, books, and other copyrighted material referred to in this work, and the characters, settings, and events thereof, are the properties of their respective owners. As this work is an interpretation of the original material and not for–profit, it constitutes fair use. Reference to real persons, places, or events are made in a fictional context, and are not intended to be libelous, defamatory, or in any way factual.

Summary: Lauren goes to see The Ash, who isn’t best pleased…

Author’s Note: Thanks for the awesome beta and advice. Truly appreciated. We’re heading towards the end of the fic now – not much longer, I promise, heh. Thanks so much for sticking with it this far.

The Thirteenth Way: Loyalties

heartsways

The Ash’s home was opulent in a way that spoke of his influence and standing within the Fae community. Lauren had often wondered why someone so intent on being undiscovered by humans would live in a mansion that was unashamedly obtrusive. It screamed the benefits of his accumulated wealth and his penchant for the finer things in life. He had a meticulous attention to detail and a taste for unapologetic luxury. It adorned the walls of his home and fashioned ornate staircases and balustrades into an external display of the esteem in which he was held. It bled into everything he did and owned: the carefully landscaped gardens surrounding the house, the works of art in his study, even the clothes he wore. He was a stickler for having everything in its place. This way of thinking also extended to the people under his protection and he ensured that places were kept with due attention. If they weren’t, then the consequences were always carried out with painstaking and terrifyingly adept attention, too.

Rules were rules, after all. And The Ash was a patient and fair being who was more than prepared to take the time to explain the rules. It was why he hadn’t killed Bo outright from the beginning. It was why he’d allowed Lauren to get close to Bo. And it was why he had called her in to see him and made it clear, in no uncertain terms, that his rules were the only ones that really mattered.

As she made her way up the long staircase towards his study, Lauren listened to the sound of her footsteps on stone, marking time. In some ways she felt as though that was all she’d done ever since she became a ward of The Ash. She’d just marked time and waited. Of course, she hadn’t been aware that she had been waiting, and her work – the sole purpose of her life – had been all–encompassing and made the passing of time almost irrelevant. But, like The Ash’s home, her life had been clinical and devoid of the emotion that she’d so recently discovered. She had found purpose, but it was cold and unforgiving.

Trapped in the strictures and rules of the world she had chosen, Lauren had become accustomed to restraint. To abiding by the decisions and demands of others. Individuality was afforded to few and she had abandoned hers when she had given her life over to The Ash. She wasn’t his prisoner, of course. At least, not in the conventional sense. She was permitted to move freely and live as normal a life as one could under the auspices of the Fae world. But sometimes she wondered if she was caged by the expectations he had placed upon her shoulders.

Reaching the heavy door to his study, she knocked and waited. A flash of fear made her heart race and brought a flush to her face. Bo had wanted to come with her – demanded it, in fact. Had it not been for Lauren’s entreaties she might have been standing here as well. But the doctor had been resolute and, this time, Bo had listened. The Ash wouldn’t take too kindly to Bo showing up at his mansion without an invitation. And with that gentle explanation, Lauren had indicated to Bo that her grace period with The Ash was liable to come to an end sooner or later. Marching into his study to defend Lauren’s honor – or lack of – would probably ensure that it was sooner.

The door opened and Lauren was ushered inside by an obsequious manservant who proffered her an appropriately tight–lipped smile that spoke of nothing more than the duty he performed. Once inside, he stepped out of the room and closed the door behind him.

The Ash sat behind a huge desk that was loaded with what he liked to call his ‘souvenirs’. Each one signified a victory, each one holding significance for the Fae. Lauren had never looked closely at them, but she knew even from a distance that what humans might call ‘antiques’ were very much a part of the present world of Fae law and order. A few she recognized from the books that The Ash had given her, others she could only guess at. But they belonged to The Ash, like she did, and he chose to display them as evidence of his great power. Or as a warning of it.

Stepping forwards, Lauren stopped short a few paces from the desk and clasped her hands together, looking down at the woven rug underneath her feet like a contrite child. The Ash leaned back in his chair and lifted his hands, steepling his fingers and touching them against his lips for a brief second.

“The Morrigan has been telling me stories about you,” he said, his voice quiet and yet seeming to echo with a cavernous sound.

Lauren’s chest froze, compacted into a tiny ball of terror that sat high up in her chest. It began to unfold, creeping around her heart as she looked up, blinking at The Ash.

“You don’t deny them.” It wasn’t a question; it was a statement of guilt. Lauren didn’t need to deny them because The Ash already knew she was full of iniquity. He could tell just by looking at her, at her slumped shoulders and the gaze that darted away from his every time he began to examine it.

“That would depend on what The Morrigan told you,” she made an attempt at bravery but failed miserably. She’d known this was coming. There had been an air of inevitability about her actions – about the deal she’d made with the Dark Fae. All along, she had felt herself rushing towards this moment; now that it was here she knew that its presence along the road she and Bo were traveling had been part of what made her so courageous. She’d just wanted to do one good thing before…before this. Before her motives and designs were uncovered and laid bare before her.

Glancing up at The Ash, Lauren summoned the last vestiges of the courage Bo inspired in her and stared him in the eye. “You know as well as I do that her word isn’t to be trusted.”

The Ash smiled mirthlessly, his lips stretching wide. “Child,” he said, his tone putting Lauren firmly back into her place once more. “What I know and what you know are lifetimes apart. Do not assume to tell me about The Morrigan. She and I have been adversaries since long before you were born.” He dropped his hands into his lap and nodded. “Long before any of you were born.”

“I know, I’m sorry.” Lauren was breathless in apology.

“The Dark have suddenly acquired a great deal of medical research pertaining to the Fae. Research that was carried out in my lab. Do you know anything about that?”

His request for information was invalid; Lauren knew that any questions he was likely to ask were ones that had been answered already. But he wanted her admission of guilt. He wanted her pleas for forgiveness and leniency. He wanted her to show the loyalty she had pledged to him, not to hear the betrayal of excuses.

“I…” she hesitated. Anything she was likely to say would be insufficient. His eyes watched her carefully and he waited. Patience would always be his first strike. Anger? Anger came later.

“You gave them the research, didn’t you?”

“It was…I wanted to – ”

“You wanted?” His head jerked back on his neck and he paused, letting out a long sigh. Pushing his chair backwards, he stood and walked around the desk so that he was inches from her. His presence was always intimidating and Lauren couldn’t ignore the tremble that began at the back of her knees. The Ash was like an indulgent parent who let his children run so far before he had to take action and halt their progress. He looked at her now in the same way that that parent would – disappointment tugging at his lips and chagrin heavy in his eyes.

“Want is a very powerful emotion, wouldn’t you say?” he asked.

Lauren nodded dumbly and he moved around her, his eyes traveling up and down her body. When he stopped, it was in front of her, his imposing frame looming over her as though he was a giant. In essence, he was. He’d always been bigger than she’d imagined; always been darker than she’d suspected the Light could be. Despite her natural tendency to fear him, she lifted her chin and straightened her back, facing her fear with the grim acceptance of a condemned woman.

“Have I been cruel?” he asked, his voice dropping to a distant rumble of thunder on the horizon. “Have I not cared for you? Nurtured you? Given you what you needed?”

Again, he waited. And it was a long moment before Lauren could find the strength to speak. He had given her more than she dared dream of as a human doctor. He had elevated her to the heights of his world and held her close in his confidences so that she had become almost breathless with the knowledge he spread before her like a sumptuous banquet, inviting her to partake of it and gorge herself. And she had. She’d been a part of the Fae world for so long that to turn her back on it had barely seemed possible. And to turn her back on him? Heresy.

But that was precisely what she’d done. And in all her considerations before acting, Lauren realized that it was only now that she was able to grasp the full extent of what she had brought to pass. Her own fate, handed to her and slipping through her fingers like life’s blood, sticky with betrayal.

“I’m sorry,” she finally said. It was poor recompense for any traitor to offer.

The Ash’s mouth twitched, registering her paltry apology and he leaned in, frowning slightly. His eyes closed briefly as he hovered close to Lauren and she trembled, hands tugging against one another in an effort to calm her nerves.

Taking a step back, The Ash put his hands behind his back and linked his fingers, looking for all the world like the paternal authoritarian he had become in her mind. He sucked in a long breath and his lips turned downwards in distaste.

“She’s all over you,” he remarked. “You know that, don’t you?”

Swallowing, Lauren nodded again, catching her breath. He had encouraged her to cultivate a relationship with Bo. He’d even hinted at her making it into something more. But he hadn’t bargained for the workings of the human heart: its ability to love without reason and want without caution. In her darkest moments of contemplation, Lauren had wondered what was more disappointing – her inability to control love or the fact that she’d succumbed to it.

“I did it for her,” she said in a low tone. “I wasn’t trying to defy you.”

“And yet, you did.” The Ash’s voice was almost surprised and he lifted his chin, looking down at her imperiously. “You would sacrifice your loyalty to me, for her. What did you imagine would be the result of that?”

Lauren shook her head, mouth falling open. “I don’t…I don’t know,” she answered. Then, eyes widening, her gaze snapped up to meet his. “Please don’t hurt her.”

The Ash chuckled, a harbinger of the anger that was flashing through his eyes. He nodded and walked a few paces away, still laughing to himself before turning on his heel and fixing Lauren with a dark gaze. “If I wanted her dead, she would be by now,” he told Lauren. “Hurting her would cause you pain, is that right?”

Lauren gasped, her head suddenly filled with unimaginable terrors. All the things she’d sought to keep from Bo; all the things she’d tried to shield her from. All for nothing. If The Ash so wished, Bo would spend the rest of her life in torment. Lauren knew that living with that – knowing that she had been the inception of Bo’s pain would surely kill her. It would kill them both.

“Please, don’t,” she begged, turning to him. “I’m the one who went to the Dark. I’m the one who did this. Please don’t punish her for my failings.”

The Ash’s eyebrows rose as he caught the hushed tone of her voice and acknowledged her ownership of betrayal. Of all the things he might have anticipated, he hadn’t expected this. Such naked, raw emotion and the willingness to sacrifice one’s own existence for the benefit of another. A thousand years ago, he might have felt the tug of compassion in his chest; he might have been tempted to show lenience. But the passing of time and battle–weary political wrangles had left him cold. He had thought that Lauren might become that way too, given the care and attention he had lavished on her.

Apparently, he was wrong.

“You have put me in a very difficult position,” he said, watching two frightened eyes leap to his face. “Fae–owned humans have often sought to gain their independence and break the bonds of loyalty that connect them to us. But they never do. And do you know why? Because humans are dispensable. When one falls, there is always another to take its place. Always another willing soul to pledge fealty and give up their putrid existence in service of a higher power. You have walked a dangerous line with this Succubus, Lauren. And now I find that you choose her over me?” He shook his head almost sadly and let out a sigh of troubled contemplation. Of all his humans – all who had slaved for him over his long existence, Lauren had been a prize that he treasured. Perhaps, even, cared for. Which made this all the more difficult – for himself and for her.

“There is no place for love here. Not for you. And not with the Succubus.”

There was a part of Lauren that wanted to rail against him, to lunge at him and beat his chest with her fists, shouting her protest in the hopes that he might hear it. But she’d known all along that love, so elusive and precious, was also dangerous and doomed to hopeless trial in this world. Perhaps she had been caught in a flight of fancy – the imaginings of her loneliness besting her understanding of reality. Perhaps this had been her destiny all along, to love briefly and with the heat of a passion that couldn’t possibly sustain itself. Falling from grace had always been her greatest fear. Falling in love, impossible.

“Humans,” The Ash muttered to himself. “Always letting emotion guide them and throwing reason to the gutter.”

He walked towards her again and shook his head. “I’m disappointed in you, Lauren. More than you know. Hurting the child won’t bring you back to me.”

“Then tell me what to do!” Lauren pleaded. “Tell me how to make this right.”

“I can’t,” The Ash told her. “Only you can decide the true contents of your heart. My will always dictated your work here, but your own has been instrumental in discarding that. And yet…” He paused, ruminating with a frown digging deeply into his brow.

Hope flared like a flashfire in Lauren’s chest and she moved towards him, hands outstretched. “My work here,” she said slowly, “has been my life. All my life.”

“Ah, yes.” The Ash nodded and his expression relaxed slightly. “The life you once traded for another’s benefit. And now you are willing to do that again.” Softening, he shook his head sadly and turned a dark gaze onto her. “Lauren, you know I value you and the work you do. You understand how disappointed I am and how I am bound by Fae law to punish any and all dissenters.”

Lauren had read enough and seen enough to know that her life was meaningless to the Fae. Even if it was important to The Ash. But she had diminished that value by her own hand, attempting to break bonds that had been made in blood, love and faith. But if her reward was to be death, then it was a just and fitting punishment for the transgressions that had caused such disappointment on her mentor’s features.

The Ash let out an audible sigh and gazed across the room for a moment, taking in the shards of sunlight that broke through the heavy shades over the window. For a moment, they glittered and then disappeared, taking with them all of Lauren’s momentary hope.

“Punishing the Succubus would achieve nothing,” he said firmly, nodding to himself. “But punishing you…” his eyes raked over her again and his shoulders sagged momentarily, the only outward sign of the disappointment that had surprised him with its depth and strength.

“Well,” he continued decisively, “punishing you would send her a message that she’s likely to understand. She’s naive and foolish, but you aren’t. And I have no other choice but to make that clear in no uncertain terms.”

“I don’t understand…” Lauren felt terror and panic begin to rise in her throat and she swallowed hard in an effort to quell them.

“Your punishment is of your own making,” The Ash said carefully. “You will live or die by your own hand. If you live, then you may resume your work for me. If you die…” He shrugged and moved towards his desk, turning his back on her. Reaching for the telephone that lay next to a stack of books, he lifted the receiver and punched in several numbers. Whoever was on the other end of the line answered quickly and The Ash glanced over at Lauren before speaking. “Send him in,” he ordered, before replacing the receiver.

“You’re…you’re giving me a second chance?” Lauren wondered aloud, almost before she could stop herself.

“I’m giving you your will,” The Ash intoned, seating himself back into the huge chair behind his desk. “Let’s see what it’s made of, shall we?”

* * * * *

The door of The Dell banged against the wall with enough force to make Trick start. From behind the bar, the Fae rolled his eyes and sighed as he shoved bottles onto the shelves underneath it. He rarely kept the door locked. Most humans didn’t know where the bar was anyway, and he’d made it a rule to never deny a Fae entry to what he deemed the most impartial space in their world. But he didn’t much like being interrupted when he was trying to take stock and replenish the bar for another busy night. Glaring at the space above him, he didn’t really care who it was bursting into the bar. The mood he was in, he’d turn away Gaia herself right now.

“The bar is closed!” he yelled, getting to his feet and preparing to make short shrift of the intruder.

“Good,” Bo rushed across the floor and leaned over the bar towards him. “Because we don’t want a drink.”

Wiping his hands on a nearby cloth, Trick frowned at her. Her gaze was intense, eyes burning darkly in the pale, sharp planes of her face where concern had carved hard lines of undisguised care. He noticed how tense she seemed, her body taut and rigid against the wood of the bar. How her hands lay flat and hard on top of it. Mentally preparing himself, the Fae watched Kenzi move from behind her, meeting his gaze and shaking her head, wide–eyed. A thin line of panic crawled up his spine and he passed a hand over his chest as though he might be able to feel it there, itching to be exposed. Bo’s eyes glittered darkly and she jutted out her chin as he returned to look at her strained features.

“I need your help,” she said in a low tone.

Trick let out another sigh and threw the cloth in his hand down onto the bar. “I am not going to like this, am I?” he asked hopelessly.

“It’s The Ash,” Bo said, a muscle ticking high up on her cheek. “He’s got Lauren.”

He’d known this would happen. Deep down, he’d known since Bo had walked into their lives that they would come to this moment. It had only really been a matter of time before she encouraged one of them – all of them – to do something bordering on insanity. Succubi had a habit of attracting chaos and Bo was no exception, despite her claims to the contrary. In fact, the only thing that surprised Trick was that it had been Lauren who fell first, so quickly and so deeply that she had lost all ability to see the abyss itself. He’d tried to warn the doctor and yet a part of him had known even then that it would likely be to no avail and any warnings about the chasm opening beneath her feet would fall on deaf ears. The look in her eyes when she’d talked about Bo had told him that she was already in it.

“Of course The Ash has got Lauren,” he told Bo as she glared at him. “He owns her, Bo.”

Kenzi made a noise of sympathetic disapproval as Trick suddenly found himself almost eye to eye with a furious Succubus. Bo’s lip curled and she stared at him with such intensity that he found himself a little intimidated. That hadn’t happened in a long, long time. He felt the faint urge to smile. Bo was certainly living up to her reputation. Of course, she had no idea what that was – nobody save himself and Dyson did. But the eyes he was looking into were those of a warrior, of a fighter who had no will but her own. It was almost encouraging.

“You know I don’t believe in that,” she snarled.

“It really doesn’t matter what you believe,” he said calmly. “It only matters that she belongs to him. She’s his to do with whatever he wants.”

“Bullshit!” Bo exploded. “You know so much about the Fae, you must know a way out of it for her.”

Taking a step back, Trick shook his head and dropped his gaze. “For as long as she’s under his protection, he owns her. Not even I can find a way past that.” He glanced up to see Bo opening her mouth to protest and held up his hand. “You may not respect the way we live, but Lauren does. She gave herself over to The Ash and agreed to abide by his laws. By our laws.”

“This isn’t about respect!” Bo banged her hand down on the bar and slid away from it, folding her arms over her chest and shaking off the placatory hand that Kenzi placed on her elbow. “It’s about Lauren, Trick! I know you care, so don’t try to give me a bunch of Fae political bullshit and expect me to walk away. I can’t.” Her voice began to tremble and she clamped her lips tight shut and glowered at him.

“She knew what she was doing.” Trick attempted to be equivocal about it, but he knew that underneath the laws that bound him to his own kind, he did, in fact, care. Lauren wasn’t like other humans. She had not only entered into the Fae world but embraced it; her knowledge and understanding of it far surpassed that of most Fae he knew. But it was more than that: Lauren had immersed herself so fully into their existence that she had become a part of it. But in her efforts to protect Bo, Lauren had fallen foul of the most human of emotions that had ripped her away from the Fae. And he knew exactly how that felt. Over the thousands of years that the Fae had walked the earth, Trick had seen far too much love and loss, and borne the guilt of it on his shoulders every time.

As he watched, Bo began to pace restlessly, her boots thudding irritably on the floor, and he suddenly felt very old. Almost too old. The ways of his people were unkind to humans; the Fae were atavistic and harsh. Human life meant very little to them. And yet, to Bo, human life was more than a commodity; it was a precious facet of her own identity that she clung to with all the protective savagery of a proud lioness. He admired her for it, even if he recognized her naive compulsions for the uncontrolled rebellions that they were.

“Bo, it would be unwise for you to take on The Ash,” he warned, as Bo swung around and stared at him. “He’s too powerful for you,” he explained kindly.

“Yeah.” She nodded and walked back towards him, placing her hands onto the bar again and leaning over it. “But he’s not for you, is he?”

Trick let out a faint laugh and shook his head, eyeing Kenzi. “Has a little bird been tweeting in your ear?”

“Dude, like I would,” Kenzi said dismissively, but she avoided his gaze and suddenly found something fascinating on the floor by her feet, shuffling them together with a nervous shrug.

“Come on, Trick,” Bo pleaded, her voice dropping to a tone that allowed emotion to overwhelm ferocity, a discordant note of fear sounding through her words. Anger slid from her eyes and left in its place desperation; the need in her words palpable. “You have to help me. You have to help her. Whatever you know, whatever you can do, then please do it.”

“Bo…you have to understand. Lauren chose this. She chose to work under the protection of The Ash and to pledge loyalty to him, just as she chose to defy him and betray that loyalty. I can’t get in between that.” His tone was measured and he spoke quite deliberately, unsure whether she was even hearing him or not.

“You did it for Dyson.”

Both Trick and Bo gaped at Kenzi, who squirmed uncomfortably with their eyes fixed upon her face. She shrugged again, biting at her lower lip and wishing that the earth would open up and swallow her. She would have even settled for the whole ‘eyes of blood’ deal again – anything other than the dual gazes that were boring into her right now.

“What?” she said defensively, eyes widening. “You did!”

“That’s right!” Bo said, an enthusiastic note entering her voice. “You totally went up against The Ash for Dyson.”

Trick threw his hands up in the air and let out a noise of frustration. “He’s Fae! And he’s an old friend. We don’t defend humans.”

“Gee, thanks,” Kenzi spoke up, glaring at Trick and pushing her lower lip out in an affronted gesture.

He shot her an indulgent glance and sighed. She was right, though. For all his assertions about Fae law and the belief system that had nourished his sense of self throughout the centuries, he wasn’t immune to humanity. Nor was he intolerant of it, unlike many of his kind. If he thought about it with any semblance of logic, then his attachment to certain humans far outweighed his kinship with the Fae. He half–smiled at his own fallibility; at the little human who saw more than anyone suspected she could, and at the emotion that was clearly written all over Bo’s features. Despite his natural reluctance, he had an affinity for Lauren’s respect of the Fae, for her work with them and her devotion to the Light.

But more than that, he understood Bo’s inherent need to be Lauren’s savior. To protect, defend and cherish the one that she loved, it seemed, above all others. In his younger days, he had felt the rush of blood to the head that denoted unfathomable and unreasonable emotions and even if Bo didn’t realize it yet, she was aligning herself not with the Fae at all, but with the human part of her that had been cultivated and nurtured throughout her life away from his kind.

Whether he agreed with it or not, Bo’s importance to the Fae outweighed his own reluctance to act against The Ash on her behalf. Duty to legend and prophecy was, after all, ignorant of individualism and self–determination. So if he wasn’t prepared to save a human for altruistic reasons, he was prepared to save Bo for reasons that had existed long before she had. If he didn’t help her, then she’d go up against The Ash on her own and that, Trick mused, would wreak results of catastrophic proportions for them all.

“The Ash won’t appreciate me being involved in this,” he finally said hesitantly, seeing a glorious expression of triumph light up the Succubus’ eyes and bring a smile to her lips.

“Trick,” she said, curling her hands into fists and literally punching the air. “I could kiss you!”

“Hm,” he demurred, turning away so that she couldn’t see the pleased expression on his face. “That would probably be entirely counter–productive.” He made a show of wiping down the back of the bar and gathered his thoughts for a moment. Asserting his authority for another Fae was one thing. Doing it for a human was quite something else. And yet, in his heart he knew it was the right thing to do. If not for himself or Lauren, then for Bo and the future she had yet to shape for herself – for them all.

“I won’t forget this, Trick.” Bo’s voice was sincere with the warmth of gratitude and he couldn’t help turning and smiling at her, although his eyes were worried and all too aware of what he was about to do.

“Somehow I don’t think The Ash will, either,” he told her in a concerned tone. Attempting to shake off his apprehension, he jerked his head towards Bo and clasped his hands in front of him. Decisive. Authoritarian. The Blood King.

“Call Dyson,” he said bluntly. “We’re going to need him.”

continued in

The Fourteenth Way: Punishment