It feels almost sinful to see the blush spread pink across her cheeks. It is unlike Archer to be so loose with his words yet time has passed since the beginning of his life when even the barest glimpse of ankles was considered a sin. Centuries had come and gone and the world was a freer place. Rules that once governed him had collapsed upon themselves with the growth of technology and spread of humanity. In a way, he was grateful for it. It allowed him to move around the world freely and immerse himself in different cultures. To forget, for a time, the past that had so shaped him. In this moment it shows clearly how far he has come in the ages that he would flirt so openly with her, a fae creature like himself. It is shameful the way time and distance can make a being so open, so needy. In the end, though, it is his very nature that corrupts him.

That is why the words tumble from his mouth swiftly, why his sky blue eyes peer hard into hers at the maelstrom of emotion that lingers there. Fear, desperation, it all tinges the air. He can sense it much the way a shifter can smell it and it drives him into protection mode. From beginning to end Archer would be a knight. He had sworn himself to such a duty long ago and those vows, however distant, did not waver or fade. Even if he had little purpose in life, that at least gave him something steadfast to cling to. Plus she would help him. Looking at her, this fledgling girl, he thinks that she could be the key to his salvation. All he has to do is protect her, an easy enough feat. So he thinks.

The foolish are not ignorant. They simply choose to ignore reality. Archer was a fool.

A warm smile presses against his lips, his brows softening from their austere look as he squeezes her hand back. "You are welcome, little one," he murmurs, pleased to see the happy look on her face. It makes her shine. Who were these fae that they could cause such fear to linger on one of their own? She had been born into their world, did they not love a daughter of their own? Archer had been a human so it was not surprisingly that he would be cursed, would be prevailed upon for things others should not. Would be stalked for eternity.

Swift she moves, pulling her feet from beneath his legs and hopping up. He turns too, his body instinctively shadowing her own even from his sitting position. It happens so quick that he almost does not realize it, his mind still muddled by his agreement, by the hope that he might be free from his shameful burden. She grabs his wrist and slices; his lips peel back to reveal sharp teeth and a hiss is released, eyes burning hot and fierce for a moment as power shudders through the room. Then her words spill and his eyes lock on hers as he feels a tug within him moments before her lips latch to his wound and she sucks his blood, sealing her part of their bargain. Part of him yearns for this... the part that was cursed. Clinically he wonders - will drinking her blood now mean that he can forgo another week of his curse? Longer, perhaps, since she was of magic blood? No, his curse required death as a final degree.

Magic seems to electrify the air around them and in this moment neither of them look human. Sharp features, bright eyes, wild instincts. He grabs her wrist gently between two of his fingers and pulls it closer to him so that when he speaks his breath feathers across her open fingers. "I, Archer Faxfair, free of any binding circumstance, do pledge my own service to Blaise Margot Duval of the Unseelie. I offer my service as protector in your quest in exchange for help breaking my curse. You have me and my strength for as long as it takes to break my curse and find your amulet. I acknowledge the binding of this oath and only release from it or death can dissolve it." Then he lowers his head and pulls her blood into him. It is rich and burning with magic; she is stronger than she appears. Her fae blood is potent and pure, untainted by the human essence that his likely carries from his human days.

With a gasp he pulls back, blood staining his lips and stares at her with eyes that had darkened to a midnight blue. "It is done."