by N. K. Vir
“Why did I say that? Why do I want to call you that?” she asked.
His eyes popped open. He stared down at her for a moment before taking another step back. Anger boiled inside of her at his retreat.
“Tell me!” She demanded in anger. Her body quivered in rage as she took another unsteady step toward him. He responded by quickly back pedaling into a tree and held his hands out in front of him in an attempt to ward her off.
“Please Annie don’t come any closer,” he begged. She ignored him as she slowly stalked towards him. When she reached the edge of his out stretched fingers she suddenly stopped short.
“What is happening?” she asked raising shaking hands to cover her eyes. Visions and images rapidly flashed behind her eyelids. She pressed the heel of her hands against her eyes trying to force them away. “Who- what am I?” She asked sinking to her knees as if gravity had suddenly become too difficult to resist.
“You are Sidhe.”
A hysterical giggle bubbled up inside of her and forced its way up her throat and past the tight confines of her mouth. “Sidhe,” she spat. “Fae, Faerie- Tinkerbell?!” she shrieked.
“No,” said Duncan’s voice. “Sidhe, bhanphrionsa.”
“Van-frin-sha?” she asked struggling to pronounce the word
“Princess, look at me.” The four words pressed so closely together that she could not tell if he was explaining the foreign word or not.
“Princess?” she repeated removing her hands from her face.
“It is what bhanphrionsa means,” he explained.
“So, you’re trying to tell me that- that I’m what? A fricking, faerie princess?”
“Yes,” he replied simply.
“Oh my god I have had too much to drink,” she muttered as she rose slowly to her feet. “Only I would fall for a totally gorgeous guy who is also completely insane.”
“Am I and have you?”
“What?” she asked confused. The alcohol and strange incidents of the past twenty four hours were beginning to take a toll. She had known this strange man for such a short time and he had managed to completely turn her world, her life upside down.
“Have you fallen for me mo chroi?” he asked. He still had not moved, his back resting against a tree but his posture seemed to have relaxed. She stared at him; of course he would pick to concentrate on that part of her tirade.
Well two could play, “Don’t call me that.”
“Don’t call you what?”
“mu-hree,” she said trying to replicate the sounds he made.
“Do you know what it means?”
“My heart,” she snapped at him. She took a wary step away from him. This conversation was heading in a direction she did not want to go. Did he really think she had forgotten that he called her a ‘Faerie Princess’? As she moved away from him a sudden chill sank into her. She wrapped her arms around herself in an attempt to regain some warmth.
“What were you thinking about when you were sitting on that bench?” His quick topic change left her wondering if they were taking part in the same conversation.
“Why?” she asked in exasperation.
“You looked,” he paused tilting his head as he sought for the right words. “Blissful,” he finally said.
She pinched the bridge of her nose fighting a headache that seemed to be quickly building. She inhaled deeply as she recalled the vision, or was it a memory? She decided to answer him. “A man, a woman, a lake, green hills,” she recounted. Even now it seemed hazy. She slapped her legs in frustration as the full image of what she had seen refused to be remembered. Duncan was right though, she had felt blissful.
“The woman,” he said picking out the one thing that had meant little to her. “Was she tall and graceful? With beautiful long hair that rivaled the color of the sun? Long delicate hands wrapped in skin the color of fresh cream, with eye the color of the sky?” As he continued with his poetic descriptive questions the image of the woman in her vision sharpened coming into focus.
“She was wearing-“
“Yellow,” Duncan finished for her. “She always wore yellow.”
“How did-“Annie started to ask but couldn’t find the breath to finish.
“Because it’s how she always looked to me,” he said taking a bold step towards her. His sudden nearness brought back warmth to her skin. “It is how she looks right now. Standing right in front of me,” he added so quietly Annie almost thought she had imagined it.
She took a few shaky steps around him needing to put some distance between them. She reached out blindly for something to steady herself as the vision of the woman Duncan had described floated in front of her like a rippled reflection. “A lake,” she muttered as her palm scraped against the rough bark of a tree. “No,” she said shaking her head. That wasn’t the right word. “Lough,” she breathed certain that was the word she sought.
“Aye Lough Gur,” Duncan prompted encouragingly.
Annie dug her fingers into the tree in an attempt to grasp onto something solid and grounding. Her other hand clutched around her middle as a deep burning pain began to grow and expand threatening to rip her apart.
“Breath or I fear the ground may rise up to meet you,” Duncan uttered almost as if he were quoting someone. “They were the first words you ever said to me,” he explained.
The burning in her stomach lessened. She uncurled from her stooped position and rested against the ancient oak at her back. She exhaled a sigh of relief as the tree seemed to suck the rest of the burning poison from her. It was a strange thought that although puzzling seemed to make perfect sense.
“Even the trees recognize their Goddess,” Duncan whispered close to her ear.
When her body was finally freed completely from pain she opened her eyes and found he was standing far away from her to have whispered anything in her ear.
“Let’s say I believe you,” she said willing to play devil’s advocate for the moment. “I am a Sidhe, a princess, a goddess. How do you explain me being here, and a human with human memories?”
“You were taken, stolen from the Otherworld, and from me.”
“The Otherworld,” she repeated out loud as the words ‘from me’ vibrated inside of her melting away any reservations she should have about his absurd claims. She was definitely going crazy.
“You have been spelled, enchanted, forced to forget,” he explained further.
“But I remember you,” she said. Although she had tried to deny it, even to herself, she had been instantly attracted, even drawn to him. Could he be the man in her vision? The couple had been intimately close, Duncan had never even touched her, not once. “Why?” she voiced out loud.
“I don’t know,” he replied. “Maybe because of how much I-,”
“No,” she said quickly cutting him off, afraid of what his next words would declare. “If you- If we,” she said stumbling over her own words. She sought for modesty but failed. “We were lovers,” she said fighting the heat that crept into her cheeks as she bluntly stated what felt right. “Yet not once since I’ve known you here,” she said pointing down to the ground, “have you ever touched me.”
She gasped as he was suddenly in front of her, his eyes flashing with some unreadable emotion. His arms suddenly becoming bars as he caged her with is body, pinning her against the tree. His head inched slowly towards hers his lips a breath away from hers as he held himself back from actually touching her. She wanted to scream in frustration. She had done this dance with him before. She was tired of it. In this moment she wanted more.
“Doona think for a moment that I doona want you,” his slight brogue thickening as he spoke against her mouth. “I want nothing more than to brush my mouth against yours and see if those lips are as soft as I remember.”
“Then do it,” she challenged. “I’ve never heard of a kiss hurting.”
She heard a growl. Convinced she had broken through his defenses she allowed her eyes to drift close as she readied herself for a mind bl
owing kiss. A heartbeat passed, then two… her lips felt as exposed as she felt. Her eyes slowly opened and a question died in her throat as another growl, low and menacing broke through her hazy lust filled brain. Her eyes snapped open, widening as they saw the source of that terrifying sound.
The first thing her brain registered was that Duncan’s broad back was facing her, his arms thrown to the side as he was using his body to shield her from a dog. The term hell hound sprang to mind. A Rottweiler the size of a calf stood growling and snarling in front of them. He was almost completely black, his fur blending in easily with the shadows that surrounded them. His golf ball sized eyes glowed a fiery shade of red as his jowls pulled back to expose finger sized canines that dripped with pink tinged saliva. Annie squealed in fear.
The demon beast sniffed at the air his dark pink tongue jutting out to lick its chops in delight. He stalked closer his nose to the ground his hind quarters hung in the air, ready to pounce when given the opportunity.
Duncan pressed closer to Annie. Out of fear she reached out and gripped his shoulders. He hissed in pain as another feeling gripped Annie. Despite his pain he seemed to keep himself between her and the now circling beast.
“What is it?” she asked finally finding her voice.
“Cu sith,” Duncan ground out.
In the distance dogs started to bark and howl the cacophony raising to an almost deafening chorus. The Cu sith growled at them once more before disappearing into the shadows.
Annie released her death grip on Duncan’s shoulders as she sagged against the tree in relief. Her legs wobbled as if unable to hold up her weight and she fell to the ground in a heap. Duncan spun and dropped to his knees in front of her. Her head fell limply on to her knees as her lungs tried to drag air into her body.
“Annie are you okay? Please look at me. I am so sorry, please,” he continued to beg for forgiveness until finally she managed to raise her head and look at him. His relief was visible as his body sagged onto the ground in relief. “I am so sorry if I hurt you,” he whispered. He stretched out his hand towards her, stopped short and balled his hand into a fist driving it hard into the ground.
Annie pressed her back against the tree silently asking for strength she found her feet and rose until she was standing. She said nothing as she gazed down at the broken man at her feet.
Duncan knew the instant he had broken through her enchantment. She had doubled over in pain and had instinctively reached out for the ancient sacred oak. The sentient tree had readily accepted the dark energy and forced it into the earth to be cleansed and stored. He knew the mortal part of her had not realized what she had done. Only creatures of magick knew how to ground unwanted energy. The oak readily accepted her, eager to please his mistress, his goddess. The dark covering that had separated the two halves of her was breaking down. She was not fully aware, but like a person recovering from a lengthy illness she would slowly start to recover, of this he was sure.
The memory she spoke of was one he thought of often. He had waited for her, as he always did, by Lough Gur. It was where he had first seen her as a young boy. He thought she was breath taking even then. Every day he had stolen away from his mother’s ever watchful eye to try and steal a glimpse of her bathing in the lough, her lough. He knew the place was sacred even then. His mother was the village’s wise woman and healer. She had a special connection with the Fae; one she had tried to keep hidden from her only son.
He had followed her many times to Lough Gur in hopes of catching sight of the Fae. The moon was full in the summer sky the night he first laid eyes on his lovely goddess. He remained hidden as she cleansed herself in the water. He stood in awe of her pale skin and how it seemed to glow and radiate light under the moon’s pale light. She had sensed someone watching, her eyes fixed on his hiding spot, and he had fled as fast as his feet would carry him. As the years had passed he frequented his old hiding spot. Not even fear could keep him away from the beautiful lady in the lake.
With each passing year he had grown bolder as he aged into manhood. He wanted her to find him. When she did her stunning, radiant beauty had forced him to forget how to breathe.
“Breathe or I fear the ground may rise up to meet you,” she had said, her voice filled with laughter.
Suddenly his chest had filled with air as he sucked in her scent tasting it on his tongue. At that moment he knew he was hers. They met for months in the same spot nearly every day.
That last day that last memory, the one Annie had recalled from the depths of her repressed mind was the last time he saw her. If he had known it would be their last meeting he would never have let her go.
He had run to her, wrapped his arms around her, holding her close, letting the scent of her skin drown his senses before he crushed her mouth in a kiss. That day he had promised himself to her on his knees with only the setting sun as a witness of his love for her. She had joined him on the ground, kneeling in front of him accepting him. She had left him with a promise of a quick return. It was the last time he saw her.
Her memory plagued his dreams. The years passed. He threw himself into every opportunity that promised death, he yearned for and end. Then one day by chance or design, he found himself by her sacred spot. He fell to his knees as anguish and pain filled him on the shores of a spot that had once harbored memories filled with sweet emotion.
Through his watery gaze he saw a figure break the surface of the water and he went willingly into the embrace of the death that had eluded him for so long. His mortal shell fell away as he was carried into the Otherworld to become from then and forever Faeriedae.
Until this moment, when she stood again a breath away from him he had cursed his eternal life. Now she trembled beneath him; her breath dancing on his lips, the scent of her sweet smelling skin filling his senses. All he had to do was breath and she would be his again. She had accused him of being aloof, when all he needed, all he wanted was to crush her against him and never let go.
A growl, one not emanating from his own throat had cut through to his warrior senses, to his duty and to his curse. As her eyes closed in anticipation of a kiss that would, and could never come. He had sensed to impending danger secretly thanking it, for he had almost tempted fate, again. He threw himself in front of her and stared into the coal bright eyes of the Cu sith, the harbinger of death.
She had chosen that moment to come to her senses. He had felt her tense in fear behind him and unconsciously he had pressed close to her. His back ignited on fire as he leaned into her shielding her with his body. Her hands had acted out of instinct, gripping his shoulders. He heard his own breath hiss and her breath hitch in pain. He ignored his back and the burning pain that engulfed him; his only thoughts were for Annie’s safety.
The sound of hounds howling and barking in the distance broke through the silent standoff. The Grant was running, warning of the impending danger. The Cu sith sure that his message was received retreated into the shadowy night. Still Annie clung to his back, seemingly unable or unwilling to move. Only then did he realize it was his own crushing weight that had left her with no escape. He quickly stepped away; she released her grip and sank boneless to the ground. Her body fell like a rag doll, her neck unable to take the weight of her head gave out and her head fell to her knees. He could hear her chest and lungs struggle to keep up with the demand for oxygen her heart was craving.
He fell to his own knees trying to beg forgiveness for his own curse. His hand stretched out of its own accord trying to offer comfort. When he realized its intention he called it back afraid he would cause more harm. She rose slowly to her feet to glare down at him. He buried his face in his hands as she began to speak.
“What the hell was that?” she demanded breathlessly. He raised his head to meet her eyes expecting anger; but the emotion he saw etched on her face was something far more dangerous.
“A Cu sith, a black angus, a hound of hell,” he explained struggling to his own feet as the fiery pain in his back erupted anew.
“That is not what I meant,” she hissed her teeth clenched as she struggled with something Duncan feared to name.
“Did I hurt you?” he asked fearful of the answer. She shook her head violently, her eyes clenched shut. “Please talk to me, look at me,” he begged.
When she refused both of his requests he debated challenging his curse further. His hands wanted to reach out and cup her delicate face. Only through sheer willpower did he force them to grab onto the oak tree imprisoning her again between his arms.
“Run Annie,” he said forcing the words from his lips. “Run before I touch you again and hurt us both,” her eyes flew open and locked onto his. He felt his control slipping. His body, pain be damned, had a mind of his own. “Run,” he whispered again.
She dipped under his arms as he dug his fingers into the bark of the oak willing it to give him strength. He felt her body heat lingering. He kept his eyes clamped shut as the hair on his arms stood at attention while her hand hoovered over him.
“I felt no pain,” she whispered as her hand carefully rested on his bicep. His eyes flew to hers as he hissed in pain and watched as her eyes widened then glazed over in pleasure. He watched her chest rise and shutter under the emotion, only then did he understand the cruel depth of the Battle Queen’s curse. For it was pain they both felt, one afraid to touch, the other craving it. Duncan cared little about the pain her touch caused him; he only wanted to see that look in her eyes again. He would destroy his entire body to watch just one more of those tiny shudders ripple through her.
“I’m not strong enough Annie please run,” he begged again.
Something in his expression must have registered because before he could blink she was gone.
Chapter Eleven
Knackers the Great
“I’m not strong enough Annie run.”
