It is strange how to individuals could be so different. He is still a little bitter but his heart remains almost as pure as it had hundreds of years ago. Along with that is the heartfelt belief that there is good in all and yet here sits a black widow spinning him cleverly into her web. It was his ultimate foible. The ability to see good where dark swallows. He hates it about himself sometimes, the way he caves beneath the genteel smile, just as he will one day hate the way he stared at her in wariness in the park and chose to trust her. That one moment that would forever reshape the world he had just gotten used to living in. It is a shame, really.

She moves a bit to the side, angling herself a bit more so that she tuck her toes beneath his thigh and he grins at her, not at all discomfited by the iciness that permeates his jeans. In the short time they had spent together Archer can see a future... he is, after all, a hopeless romantic at heart. Or maybe he wasn't but had missed out on the time when he had once longed for a hearth and wife. Blaise was of his own ilk so it isn't hard to see her in that role, a role that he had forgotten about so long ago when things had fell to pot. There is a sort of electricity between them and he associates it with their powers intertwining; he was powerful but so was she. Only he didn't know how powerful yet, young though she may be.

His eyes crinkle at the corners and twinkle at her teasing and he winks at her. "Ah, well, little lass, there are a few things I am certain I could teach you. A few centuries does teach one many things." It is both a tease and a sort of longing statement but he refrains from touching her bare legs despite the twitch in his fingers. Flirting was acceptable, touching in such a blatant manner after only having just met her not so much.

I am in danger. The words ease the smile from his face and he takes on a sharpened look, one of concentration. Fairy court, escape, it all sends him reeling back to his own memories. His struggle to escape, the way she had drawn him back in, the fury that had sparked in her clear blue eyes. She had been lovely even in her wrath; even now his belly clenches with a certain need to see her again. He shakes it away and watches Blaise, noting the upset look on her face, the thready voice she speaks with. SHe bites her lip so hard that she bleeds and immediately he leans towards her, likely pressing too hard on her feet as he places a finger against her lip in a way to reprimand her. When she talks again he draws away to listen. Always a listener, Archer.

Her desperation leaks into him and once more the room is filled with his power as it radiates off him in his righteous anger. She needs help and he is a knight at heart and in soul. Once he had actually been one. His breathing stutters to a stop at her words of ending his curse, his eyes widening so that the blue fill his face. Her words seem so sincere - her desperation had flooded the air. She was offering him something he might never be able to obtain otherwise. Freedom and relief and all he had to do was help her. What she didn't realize, really, was that he would have done so for free. Because she had already wormed her way into his affections.

"I will," he breathes, suddenly sitting forward, his gaze hard on her own. Ardent. "I will take the oath and keep you safe and in return you will help me. You know more of the faerie court than I do. It is my own fault but I am not adept at maneuvering through it. Protection, however, I can offer. Ill even help you in your search, what little I can." For a half second his eyes drop as he really considers the implication. A blood oath was a strong and binding oath, unbreakable. Yet he is fooled, once more, by a pretty face and desperate words. If ever Blaise wondered at how immersed he had been in fae culture she would have her proof in these moments when, instead of considering, he leaps feet first. While he was the eldest here, she was by far the more experienced.