*Well, here we are, my fist fanfic posted. Its funny, I've been a fan of the movie Labyrinth for years and never got involved with posting anything on this site...ah well. Here we have the first part of my first Hellboy II fanfic, a little idea that occured to me shortly after watching the movie for the first time. Yes, there are adult themes, including Nuada X Nuala, so if you don't like that kind of thing...then don't read. This may get slightly explicit in the next few chapters. Also, I may be wandering away from the general storyline of the movie and plopping in a bit of mythology from the myths Nuada's name comes from, but I won't be wandering too far from cannon. That said, enjoy.*

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My scars shall be your scars, my flesh shall be your flesh

We are bound by blood and by body

That when my wounds open upon your skin

They shall be healed

And in battle I will never die

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She remembered when they were young, and the world was new to them. It did not seem wrong then. They had been children, innocents. No more aware that what they did was forbidden than a young falcon was aware that its parent must kill to fill its gullet. Back then, their father had not known how deeply the bond they shared went, only that he had been given a rare gift; That of two children born of the same womb, in a world where it was hard enough for their kind to simply bring into being a single life. Unlike human kind, their immortal blood did not seem to permit ease when it came to the matter of birthing, as though, in exchange for their unaging flesh, the gods had taken their fertility. And so their father had not questioned their closeness, he had only hoped that it would last. That they would grow and become strong, not to wither and die like his fading world. That when they opened their eyes each morning, it would be the sun that warmed their flesh and not the darkness caressing their skin with shadows.

He had not bargained for what would become of his son and daughter. He had not dared to imagine that they would create those shadows for themselves.

Even now, she could not fully tell herself that she believed her father when he told her that what her brother had done to her was wrong. She had permitted it, she had fallen beneath him of her own desire and with the wantoness of one tasting the seeds of forbidden fruit for the first time. That she had not fully understood what she was doing did not matter to her, she was convinced that her brother had not known either. Driven by their bond, by their intense calling to one another, the sudden realization that the limitations of their flesh would never allow them to fully become a part of one another had come crashing down upon them. They knew, instinctively, that they should have been one. And so, when mere touch was no longer enough, their bodies had taught them to join in the only way they could.

Her brother had taken her to his bed. And while they slept together, took pleasure from one another, their bond had fused beyond the point where it could easily be broken.

And it was that night, of all nights, that she could remember most clearly. When suddenly the warmth of his embrace had become the warmth of his skin and his flesh, and his lips over hers.

The full realization of what they had done had not come until morning, when they lay in the aftermath, tangled in each others limbs and in each others minds. She did not know how long they had lain there, staring into each others eyes and wondering at what they had done, their thoughts, their minds in unison, their hearts and bodies forged as one. When she reached out to touch his skin, she knew what he felt when her fingers graced his flesh. When their bodies joined once more, she knew his pleasure as fire streaming through her veins.

She only wished she had known how long it was they lingered, for if she had, then perhaps their father would not have discovered them. It was long enough, at least, that he himself had gone in search of them. That he was worried enough to encroach upon her brothers privacy and enter his chambers unasked.

Later, he would claim that they had caused him more pain that watching their mother die at their birth, but she would always have the comfort that it had been his own fault. No one had forced him to turn the handle on the door, to open it and find them flesh to flesh. He had done it of his own free will, just as she had lain with her brother of hers.

Their fathers howl of rage had startled them from their lovemaking and sent her brother into shock. It had been the first and only time she had seen him uncertain, un-prepaired to defend himself. He had lain their over her, staring at their father over his shoulder. Hiding her from view with his body, as though somehow he could keep a secret what had already been seen. She remembered feeling shame from him, and instantly, felt hurt. Was what they had done really so terrible? He had turned to her, briefly forgetting their father, his mouth lowering to hers. Distracted long enough that the king managed to twist his fingers into his son's hair, to wrench him from her body.

It was then that she knew that they were not only bound in pleasure, but in pain.

She had cried out, and instantly, her father had stopped, staring first at her, then at her brother. She sat naked, clutching her skull as her fathers fingers wrenched her brothers pale, golden hair at the roots, tears stinging her yellow eyes. The old kings fingers released, sending her brother slumping to the floor, a reaction that sent a sob bubbling up from her throat. She knew her brother only in strength, never in weakness. Knew him always to defend himself even when his wounds should have sent him weeping to the ground. Yet the shock to his system, that she to, had felt his pain, seemed to have been to much.

Her father had stared at her brother as though he did not know his own son, the naked, golden pale creature crouched on the floor before him. The king trembled with rage, clenched wooden fists and snarled, until finally his voice broke, and he screamed.

"Look what you've done to her, Nuada, your sister...by Danu...what have you done?"

She did not think she remembered clearly after that, for fear of her father had obscured her thoughts even as her brothers mind had been cool and even, flowing like water over ice, the panic fled. Yet, she thought perhaps her brother had smiled, a slight curve of his lips hidden by the bowing of his head, obscured by the mane of his hair when he had whispered "I know, father..I know."

She was still not certain if it had been a smile of pleasure or one of...something else. Something darker. For from that moment on, her father had done what he could to shield her heart from his.