Broken Wings, Renewed Dreams

>Be Harpy captured by slavers
>They're talking about how you'll make a 'fine pet bird' for some fat noble in the next port city over
>You've heard the noises of the crew 'dancing' some of the other slave monsters like banenekos and kobolds on top of the deck
>Own body shivers at the thought of being violated like that
>Time becomes an illusion, until the day the seas rise up and toss the ship to and fro
>You, every monster and crew member are screaming
>Many of the monsters begin to make prayers to their Gods, while you're gnawing at the rope that's binding your feet together and one of your wings
>That's when you can hear the sound of the water rising above in a giant pillar, men call out the name of Mother Poseidon but their pleas for mercy fall on deaf ears
>As the ship crashes into the rocks by the a rocky plateau, your right wing explodes in white hot fire
>You scream in agony as the rock punctures through your shoulder, effectively disabling you
>The water is cold as it rises to your neck, the ship broken like wet paper upon the jagged outcroppings
>You're running out of breath in the darkness, your lungs aflame
>But a firm, bandaged forearm grabs onto your punctured shoulder and hoists you up, a gruff re-assuring voice being the last thing you hear before you black out
'It's okay, I've got you, I've---'

>Wake up to the sound of rain playing a stacatto against stone, as well as the crackling of a small fire
>Your savior sits there, eating a cooked fish on a makeshift kabob. There's a second one, waiting to be eaten
>Try to move, wince as pain shoots up your entire right side. He notices your whimper and turns.
'You shouldn't move. Not yet. You should consider yourself lucky to be alive, you know.'
>Spit at him, cursing him
'You should have let me die.'
>His face is weathered and old, wrinkles gauging deep lines into skin like old leather, a thick salt and pepper beard covering his lower face
'It would not have sat well on my conscience seeing a daughter of the skies die in the cold, dark embrace of Poseidon. She and Lady Thanatos reaped enough that night.'
>That night? How long were you out?
'You've been unconscious for three days. I've set your wing for you, but it will take time to heal, as will the time to learn to fly again.'
>Give a soft, weak laugh at the absurdity of the situation
>A human? Knowing -anything- about flying?
>Next thing you know they'll say that Tengus become harlots in a daimyo's court
>He's gotten close to you in your introspection, holding up the fish. It smells absolutely divine and you're quick to start eating it.
'Small bites first. Strain yourself and you'll end up re-opening your shoulder.'
>Give him a glare and continue eating slowly and with smaller bites, eventually he puts the fire out
>You both fall asleep to the sound of the rain, you've always hated it, how it drug up memories of...
>No, better to abolish such thoughts

>A few weeks pass in the cave, the Old Master as he refers to himself keeping upkeep on your wing's healing with poultices and changing the bandages
>His arms above the bandages you've seen are covered in scars, and you add some fresh ones with your talons when he attempts to change your clothing
>Rather than the blunt force of his fists against your cheek like your captors had done, a small frown passes over his wrinkled face
'Please, let me help you.'
>You begrudgingly agreed, and soon he takes you from the cave to his small house near the plateau
>The image of a massive diagonal gash across his abdomen's front remains burned into your mind as he helps you regain some movement in your wing, the brown feathers painfully molting
'Good, good. Keep practicing just like this and you'll be able to re-learn how to fly again soon enough...'
>His words are mournful, but genuine in his joy at your healing. Never before had you encountered a man so selfless in your eighteen summers and he's befuddling
>An enigma and yet complacent to help you
>It's not until at least two months in his care that you begin to ask questions of the Old Master
'Why are you helping me?'
>He pauses from preparing the daily meal of fish and greens with spices bought from town
'Do I need a reason to help you? Surely you don't think all men seek to use your kind as breeders or pets.'
>The silence is telling as he turns, it's always surprising how gaunt and muscled he is as he wipes his frock
'I'm not entirely sure what happened to you, but I can assure you, as one who's flow--'
>That does it, you snap
'Stop! Just stop it! You cannot fly without a Sylph! Your kind is nothing more than a scourge upon everything you touch and your lust is only equal to your greed! As soon as I'm able to fly again I hope to never see you, ever!'
>You pile the lies on thicker and harder as you continue on your rant until he holds up an arm
'Then let me show you something, to regain your confidence.'

>The bandages fall away, from his left arm
>A scream gets caught in your throat as you're left beholden to it, the flesh seared black with cracks in it like it had been carved of molten obsidian
'No... You died.'
>He smiles that small little smile
'Or so the stories say. Funny mistresses, the fates are. While I lost my wings, I gained some solace as well as this.'
>One gnarled, black finger points to the massive gash across his front. You can feel the hot tears welling up in your eyes.
>There's no way you could've known; Nobody could've known!
'Now, please. Let me help you.'
>You begin to stammer out his true name before he stops you
'That man is dead, I am simply the Master now.'
>Time passes further, and you find yourself spending months with him, learning of his father and the flights of his youth and ultimately the circumstances that brought him here
>One evening, you're both sitting outside the hut when it begins to rain. He notices your troubled expression when you hug yourself tight with both of your now fully-functioning wings
'Is something the matter?'
>You try to shake your head no, but he's persistent, and you eventually open up
'Th-they came in the rain, when we couldn't fly. The bastards... privateers, whatever have you. We couldn't stop them, after all... We're just... birds.'
>The tears are running now, images of roost-mothers in the flock being tied up and fucked like choice cuts of meat flooding into your mind
>Or the crude bludgeons destroying the eggs in the nests, gifts from the men that harpies would share pleasant evenings with
>A calloused hand claps you onto the shoulder as you're sobbing, another putting itself on your head
'It's alright.'
>He whispers to you, stroking affectionately
>You can't help yourself, nuzzling your face into his chest, sobbing for the rest of the rain storm
>There are no words of reassurance or soft promises necessary, all you want is to be comforted
>Both of you retire for the evening in silence

>It's a warm spring afternoon when you're finally able to fly again
>Gripping onto the Master's blackened arm with your talons, listening to him as he tells you to flap your wings and jump
>The wind currents carry you higher and higher, the feeling of the sun on your skin and the wind in your face refreshing
>Your laughter carrying across the grass of the cliffside plateau before you land, giving him an all-too happy hug
'I did it! It's all thanks to you!'
>He gives you a belly laugh, rubbing your head
'It was all you. It's always been you.'
>You end up blurting out the three words you'd never expect to hear come from your mouth
'I love you.'
>He raises an eyebrow then gives a soft laugh of his own before calming down, seeing how serious you were
'Surely you jest.'
>You re-assure him by pressing one gnarled hand to your stomach, letting him feel the hard pressure of an egg awaiting seed
'No, I can't. I won't.'
'Please. It's the only way I can repay you. You may never fly again, but our child will, and her children will.'
>You plant a small peck on his lips once, pulling back. The second time you go in, he clasps the back of your head with his hand and holds you place.
'I love you too.'
>Husking, as he kisses you between breathes.
'Thank you, truly.'
>His hands search between your legs, finding your moist slit and pressing inwards, eliciting a small moan from you
'Please... take me. Hard and quick.'
>He balks at your request
'There should never be any pain. Ever.'
>Laying you down onto the grass, you can see your own fear reflected on his face. Humans were known to say 'I love you' before the act, even if they truly didn't
>But there wasn't a single lie in his voice when he uttered those words to you.

>It hurts at first as he spreads you with his shaft, pausing when he notices the trickle of blood between your thighs
'You were... !?'
>Giving him a teary- eyed smile, you brace for the pain, eventually turning to pleasure as he gives deep and slow strokes of his hips
>His body is firm with sinewy muscle, and soon you can feel your heartbeat in your pelvis, waves of pleasure building up into a crescendo as your lover plows into you
>Right as you hit your highest peak, he grunts and releases his seed into your all-to-happy to receive womanhood, giving a silent prayer you'll become pregnant with his daughter
>Both of your bodies are covered in sweat and naked when he hugs you to him, soft on hard
>His petting is reassuring as you smile at him
'You gave me everything you had, and so I'll give you everything of mine... my wife.'
>Those last two words pluck at your heart-strings as he hugs you tight and never lets go

----
Sometime in the Future
-----

>A young woman is standing on the roof of her school, watching the clouds go by. Her hair is a wheat blonde, but the feather of her wings and tail are a tawny brown
>Shielding her eyes with one hand, she's deaf to the calls of her classmate from a window several floors down
'Oi! Hannah! Lunch is almost over! You'll be late if you don't stop daydreaming and hurry up!'
>Good old Adam, as usual. He huffs dramatically when she enters the hallway through the window, dusting herself off.
'I'm surprised they still let harpies up there, even ones as strange as you. The devil were you even daydreaming about?'
>She giggles, skipping ahead of him before tossing a glance back
'You wouldn't believe me, even if I were to tell you.'
>He groans, following after her. For as much as he loved her she was such a damned handful, Icarii or not. Such a free-spirited lot.
>But also compassionate and full of love.
>Born from the union of one man and harpy, all those years ago.