Whisperwill (England x Reader)

Blood pounded out a steady rhythm in her head. It was as if her own heartbeat had become a drum. She'd always hated drums.

It was a strange first thought to have. So, as she stared up at a blurred gray something, the young woman decided to think back to what she'd been doing. Her memory was fogged, but if she concentrated, or if she could sit up and get a better look at where she was...

Her fingers landed on the strap of a large bag. That was right. She'd been traveling through the Whisper Woods. It was the quickest way to reach the kingdom of Fahsula, and she had been ordered to carry a message there. She was still in the woods, judging by the damp soil pressing against her cheek. Her brow furrowed in confusion. She was on the ground, in a...cave. When had that happened? She remembered hiking for five hours straight before having lunch. There had been cheese, stale bread, and water- all taken with haste. Then, after she'd tucked her canteen back into the bag, she had turned and walked straight into something- someone.

Her breath had come in a sharp hiss. Before the scream could escape, though, a blow had landed over her head. She remembered wet ground against her knees, and a grip over her mouth. The wand she had pulled out slipped from her grasp just as the world turned dark.

She had been attacked! Hands flat on the ground, she tried to push her body up. Easier thought than done, since her limbs were so stiff and reluctant to work. Then, gently, someone brushed the hair from her face.

Pain flew from her mind. In an instant, the messenger had twisted up and launched herself into the attacker. They fell together. Her hands moved of their own accord, snaking around his neck and constricting until fingernails dug crescents into his skin. She opened her mouth, the restraining spell already on her tongue-

Except it never came. Instead, a rasp of air was all she got out. No voice.

Her attacker began to stroke her throat. The touch brought her out of shock and drew her eyes to the man sprawled beneath her. His face was a strange mix of discomfort and relief, perched beneath a pair of thick eyebrows and bright yellow hair. He smiled up at her, apparently not taking issue with being choked, and used his other hand to touch a pendant around his neck. It was a simple leather cord with a glass ball. The charm felt cool against the base of her throat, when he pressed it there.

He was showing her where her voice had gone. He had taken it.

After giving him a withering glare, she let go. He sucked in a breath. Then he sucked in another, taking air in greedily. All things considered, he was taking the strangulation attempt very well. Once she was sure he was not going to retaliate, the messenger left her perch on his stomach.

He sat up, watching her curiously. When she mouthed an embarrassed 'thank you,' his expression softened. He climbed to his feet and offered her a hand up. Chivalrous. Chivalrous, and a quick-thinker. He had saved her life back in the clearing. Her whole body twinged as she accepted the help, but she was finally able to return his smile.

This had to be the Guide. His actions, along with his well-worn, gray robes marked him as such. And if the forest's legend rung true, he would now escort her to where she was going. She could use an escort. Even a capable mage was at risk here. He was in more danger than she, though, if he now held two voices. Retrieving her wand, she tapped it against her throat before gesturing at his. Their eyes met, trading a questioning glance before he understood. The bunched fabric of his collar was tugged at, exposing the base of his neck.

She stumbled back a step. He had one of the cleanest, deepest scars she had ever seen. It cut neatly over where his vocal cords would be. Self-inflicted. Had to be.

He shrugged as if to say it was no big deal. And it was better this way, if he really lived here. No one was allowed to speak, scream, mumble, or even sneeze too loudly in these woods. If so much as a hint of voice came out, the whisperwills would come. Everyone knew that. That was why those unable to suppress their voices stayed out. As an elemental mage, she had no biological spells. She had braved this place only for King Mirei's message. Being mute would have been an advantage here.

But still! To never speak again, and to never hum a song under one's breath... It seemed very sad to the messenger. Holding her cloak around her, she followed the Guide out of the cave. Together, they began their journey.

~.~.~.~.~

Breezes flitted by the pair. All it took was a wave of his companion's wand, and the guide found himself enjoying a pleasant gust. The weather was nice today, overcast and crisp. It was the traveler's dogged pace that put beads of sweat on his forehead. She was in a hurry. She was very determined, he noticed, and very understanding as well. If he hadn't startled her before, he knew she would have given her voice willingly into his custody.

He had fallen into step behind her, since she seemed to know where she was going. A rumpled map and a grand, bejeweled compass were the only things she would let go of her wand for.

Smart girl. Even as they ducked branches and crossed trickling streams, he found himself incapable of wearing anything but a grin. She bent the branches out of their way, and froze paths across the streams. If the land became too pitted, she smoothed it out. There was a quiet strength to her magic that he admired. It was a shame they couldn't exchange stories. If they could speak, she would laugh at all the riddles and jokes he was dying to tell her.

Soon she would be moving on to grand adventures. He would stay here, in his trees and silence and solitude. That was the thought that finally dampened his mood. Reminders were everywhere.

Ever since the whisperwills had come, the forest had become a lonely place. Animals still lived here, of course, but it had taken decades for them to adapt. All of the woodland creatures moved carefully around him now, taking cautions, quiet steps. No bird calls, no warning growls, no squirrels chittering their arguments. The guide knew this unnerved his companion. He could see the tension she carried in her shoulders.

So she had taken the forest's history- some fools called it “legend”- seriously. Good. It was nice to know that his last words hadn't been wasted. His brother had done well, spreading the news. Such small acts, in face of such grave sins, but it was all they could do.

The forest had been home to more than him, once. It had been a place for summer cabins and the occasional hermit. Families with mage blood in them would often come to train their children. Away from the dense population of any towns, there was less chance a bystander would get hurt. There were more selfish reasons for mages to visit as well. If someone had a less-than-legal experiment they wished to conduct, they could try to shelter themselves from suspicion here.

This had been the method of the skilled Kirkland mages. Their healing spells had been strong, and their dark magic had been even stronger. Combining the talents, they had set out for the family cabin with cages and cages of animals. Together, his father had said, they would create the perfect creature. Something noble and strong and extremely loyal- something that kings would call for and soldiers would covet. They would be famous soon. For all the mediocre hybrids in the world, the Kirklands knew they could do better.

And they had succeeded. Their animals had been marvelous and were quite tame as infants. If it hadn't been for that single flaw...

Thhwsh!  

A rabbit bolted from the underbrush and startled the guide out of his thoughts. He and his new friend both stopped, neither taking a single breath. It took only a second before a bright, bushy fox bounded after its prey. Being the clever hunter it was, it didn't yip or growl. It stayed silent as it lunged, its jaws closing around the meal.

The rabbit, however, was stupid. Or perhaps it was smart and vengeful. Whatever the case, when fangs punctured its skin, it squeaked. The guide felt his heart stop.

~.~.~.~.~
 
Screeching. Horrible screeching, as the adolescents turned on their creators. They were furious, and they were made jealous by their ruined perfection. Red everywhere, coating everything. Not from him, though. His blood was roaring like thunder.

Mother was shouting. Mother was dead. Father was crying. Father was dead.

Arthur would never quite remember how he got away. He seized his brother by the wrist and started running. Past that, the only sensation that stayed with him was the fear. It choked him. It kept any noises stuck somewhere in his churning stomach.

Next thing he knew, people were wrapping them in blankets and giving them soup. There was a lot of crying for vacationing relatives. There were questions about what had happened. It took the boys two days to regain their voices, and when they did, they let the whole story come tumbling out.

They told about the creatures who could no longer sing, and of the terrible sounds. They told of how their pets had been surprised at first, and how surprise had turned to fury. The pets were smart enough to realize how horrid they would seem now, with their new voices. Not a single, pleasant sound could come from them. There had been a sick kind of delight in the animals' eyes as they made sure Mother and Father would never be able to make beautiful noises either.

The villagers listened and sent warnings to their king. He, in turn, spread the warning to neighboring countries. The Kirkland name became famous after all. Infamous, even.

Yet there would be many who regarded the warning as a joke. Many more would die traveling through the woods, before everyone believed. Arthur had known that even then. Feeling numb, he had told his brother to spread the word to countries that lay further away.

His family was at fault for these monsters. He had helped. He was at fault. So Arthur said goodbye for the last time. He got rid of his voice the only way he knew how, healed himself, and returned to the woods with tomes of medical spells in tow. He knew he couldn't make up for his sins, but he could save some of the travelers that would come. He had to save them.

~.~.~.~.~

She had never seen a creature so angelic before. It alighted on a branch and folded its delicate wings. There were dainty paws and wide, doe-like eyes that blinked innocently. The whisperwill rested for a heartbeat. Two heartbeats. Three. After the third, it opened its muzzle.

The screech it let out ripped through the clearing. It clawed its way into the messenger's mind, making her vision swim and her legs sway. It truly was the most loathsome sound in the world. Hands clapped over her ears, she looked for the Guide.

He had begun to back away. Ahead of him, two more of the creatures stood over the squirming fox and rabbit. They both tore out a throat and put an end to the struggle. Then, speckled with blood, they began to creep toward the humans. The Guide fumbled for a charm in his pocket.

Their heads snapped toward him. They recognized him. What had been curiosity turned to a murderous light in their eyes. He now held their undivided attention.

As one lunged, the messenger thrust out her wand. Dirt closed and hardened around a paw. The whisperwill's jaws closed around the Guide's pendant instead of his neck, and as it was jerked back, two crunches came at the same time. The first was the glass orb shattering between teeth. The other was a leg, snapping when it couldn't go forward with the rest of the animal. There was a brief, pained shriek.

Shards tumbled from the open mouth. The woman watched as mist rose from the pieces and floated toward her. It settled like a necklace around her, then vanished. Her voice had returned at a most inopportune time.

It was hard not to use it when, all at once, the whisperwill from the trees shot down to earth. It hit the Guide hard, sending him flying even as he threw his charm. The creature she had trapped with dirt shrieked again as it was hit. Magic sunk into its skin like poison and raced through its veins. Within seconds, it began to break apart from the inside.

One down. The other two had attacked simultaneously, hitting from above and below, and had snared her fellow mage. They went at him in a frenzy, their claws tangling in his cloak. He managed to twist out of it and pushed bare arms at the creatures. They jumped apart to avoid a shot of light. Where they'd been standing, leaves began to decay.

She would have time to be impressed later. Double-teamed like that, she knew the Guide wasn't going to last long. The messenger pointed at the base of a tree and forced the ground to buck beneath it. With a great snap, it toppled and slammed over another whisperwill. Two down. Not bad. She didn't like having to rely on wordless spells, but she could make this work. Meanwhile, her new friend was too busy wrestling the last whisperwill away from his throat to go for more charms or spells. Time to finish this.

She didn't get two steps toward him, however, before a great crash made her look back. Gasping, she threw herself forward. She even managed to get most of her body out of the way before a thick trunk crushed her leg. She landed hard, seeing stars and biting her lip savagely to keep from yelling. The second whisperwill, barely bruised, threw itself back into the fight. Her heart sunk as she realized what all of this meant.

Her leg was broken. Badly. She wouldn't be able to deliver her king's message in time, like this. She had underestimated the whisperwills, since the first had been killed so quickly. They were strong enough to not only get out from beneath a fallen tree, but to buck the thing back onto her as well. She was trapped. Her wand was resting three feet ahead of her, which meant she'd dropped it again. Stupid, stupid, stupid! Now she could do nothing but try to get her leg free while the Guide was pinned down.

He too had dropped the weapon he'd been readying- another well-crafted charm. His mouth was twisting with mute cries. She tugged harder, desperate to help. The whisperwills looked positively gleeful to be tearing chunks out of his flesh.  

~.~.~.~.~

Arthur cursed himself for having been so careless. He should have been more prepared for a fight like this; he knew how vital it was to deal with the whisperwills quickly.  It had only been a few minutes, but the creatures had him already. They were ignoring the traveler again. That was good, at least. He tried to focus on that, instead of the wounds opening all along his exposed arms. As long as the traveler stayed quiet, they would leave her alone. She wasn't one they recognized as a creator, or as a constant interference.  

Tears were running down her cheeks. He could see the clean streaks they left on her dirt-smeared face, and how they made her eyes stand out. They were brimming with fear for him. She was still struggling, giving up on her leg and stretching out as far as she could. But her leg remained trapped beneath the branch, and her wand stayed an inch away from her fingertips. So close.

She was going to watch him die. She would free herself eventually, but not before he died. The monsters were going to keep tearing into him. He was going to leave these woods unguarded, and he was going to leave his last traveler with this memory.

He tried to convey, with a sad, pained smile, how sorry he was for that. He hadn't known her for long, but he cared for her safety. He cared for her. Arthur closed his eyes and prayed she would do the same. There were teeth buried deep in his shoulder now, and a nose prodding the tender skin at his throat. This was it. Wracked with agony, he prepared for death.  

But it didn't come. Instead, a woman's scream filled the forest. It was wordless, and yet, he understood its meaning clearly. The whisperwills dropped him. His body sagged to the ground. Horrified, the guide watched as his attackers turned and lunged for her instead. Time slowed for him. He saw the claws and teeth descending slowly, aimed for her face, her outstretched arm, her throat... She was smiling sadly at him, as if trying to convey just how sorry for this she was.

He had never missed his voice so badly. In that moment, every fiber of his being burned with the desire for one word.

No.