Chapter 27
Previously: Obsidian: Ash and Moonbeams – Chapter 26
“Eh, you’re not fae, we don’t work that way. And agreed, they don’t make a whole lot of sense. I’ve been friends with one for over a century and it’s still not intuitive. But yeah, if you want to be mean to a fae, best way is to feel nothing about them.” He considers the rest of her words. “You actually upset this Marcas? Because that would qualify as flirting to him, yeah.”
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“He looked pissed off when I snarled at him about him trying to steal my love.”
Remembering a bit reluctantly how that went, she does end up smacking her forehead against Caliban’s chest. “Ugh, he yelled at me. And Llew always has that gross grin on when I bark at him. Great. I don’t want to be good at fae flirting! At least not with anybody but Quincy! Huh…”
Actually, now that she takes a moment, there might be something there. “He always calls my and John’s feelings precious. He so likes when we get him emotional, too.”
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“Oh. Oh, puppy, you saw through a trap in his contract, and then it made you feel things, and then you made him feel things.” Caliban breaks out in a chuckle. “I’m sorry to say, you probably did get his cold little fae heart going. And yeah, you’re so free with your emotions, fuck, you’re basically fae bait.” He considers this some more. “And then he kicked you here, and then… you had one good yell at him and promptly put him out of your mind, didn’t you?”
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“Why would I think of him? I had more important things to do. Find a way out. Find you.”
She doesn’t really want to be fae bait. Now she wonders how to best murder Llew without feeling much. Actually, ugh, that’s probably still too focused on him, nope, more important question: “Do you know what a fae in love looks like? Quincy hovers above the ground and has about four different kinds of glitter going. John thinks it’s the most ridiculous thing ever but also made really sure he gets the different effects right because love is so hard for Quincy and he wanted to support him in celebrating it.”
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“No, can’t say I’ve ever seen a fae display that particular emotion, but that sounds pretty in character if that’s what it is. Huh.”
The puppy clearly has other priorities, but his mind is still circling around the circumstances that got her stuck here. “Can’t imagine that winter fae was very pleased by your reaction. Fuck, puppy, there’s a chance he was keeping an eye on you and decided to piss off and leave you here when you didn’t give him any more emotion…”
Maybe she could’ve been out of here? What was the point of dropping her here and not witnessing the emotion she showed about it?
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“Good, he doesn’t deserve anymore!”
Just about to huff, she realises that she stopped crying again, her Calidear completely distracted her. And he’s not fae, but she still wants to tell him. Maybe with a bit of snark, because that’s what he seems to like. “And I promise it’s not because of bad flirting that I’m not crying. You just give me the good emotions!”
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That makes him laugh again. “Glad to hear it, puppy! I might have enough winter fae for Allspeak and the hair in here somehow, who the fuck knows how, but that’s it. I promise I prefer my flirting non-fae with the good emotions.”
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“You have fae blood? But… you’re pretty?”
She didn’t even think about his hair. It was just light against her hands, she liked it. Now she’s leaning up and taking another sniff. No, nothing weird-smelling about him.
“You don’t smell like hay or flowers or even the weather. Wait, what is Allspeak? Is that the accent in your English?”
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Caliban bursts out laughing again. “I’d ask why you’re saying that like being fae and pretty should be a contradiction, but I can take a guess.”
She did say something about how her husband wasn’t actually her type at some point, didn’t she? It’s been a lot of talking since, but there was something about fur, and the lack of.
“You’re really not into all the slenderness and delicate grace, are you? So, yeah, this,” he waves a hand at himself, thinks she’ll probably be able to sense the gesture, “is pretty much all the Aesir half. And I’m not speaking English at all, puppy. I’m speaking the Old Language, Allspeak is a little fae magic that translates things somehow so you can understand and be understood by anyone in any language.”
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He’s being so sweet again, she asked him to pretend he didn’t hear that she said her sang du coeur isn’t that attractive and he really pretends she never explained it to him. So sweet. Sweet as his blood that’s giving her a tail!
“I thought your accent is kind of different from Radu’s, kind of… there’s a bit of…”
What is it? Now that she’s listening, it’s nearly as if she more smells than hears the difference, which, she’s not Arthur, she doesn’t smell magic. But it’s kind of like a tingle on her tongue, and that is kind of like the weather, so yes, okay, fae.
“There’s a bit of weather on my tongue from it!”
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“Weather on your tongue?” Okay, now he’s intrigued. “Like… you can taste the Allspeak?”
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She’s pulling faces rather than telling until she remembers he can’t see that, so she huffs. “Arthur smells magic, not me. Just, if I listen to the way you talk rather than just all the nice things you say, it feels a bit weird. Like a tingle, not quite a smell or taste, so it’s probably my drac and you said fae, so the smell being not-people would fit. Maybe it’s just association. I don’t know, you are nice all over, so I don’t want to be weirded out by something fae with you.”
Definitely, now she’s getting stubborn about it, no, no associating her Calidear with silly fae!
“I’d much rather think of Radu when I get to pet your pretty light hair and hear you have an accent.”
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“That is so sweet,” he tells her, because it is. “All monster for you, then, puppy, forget about the fae! Tell me more about your Radu, then. He has pretty light hair and an accent, too?”
Because, yeah, he’d rather hear her gush about her men than think about the signs of her exhaustion.
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He wants her to talk about Radu? It’s half a sob and half a happy sigh.
“Quincy asked me, too. Both of you are so sweet with me! His hair is white, he looks like the perfect villain in a fairytale, foreign noble and inhuman. But also, his bat is white! He’s the prettiest tiny batsie to ever sneak on my windowsill! I’m bad at sneaking though, he had to drug the maid so we could have our date.
“And of course he has an accent, he’s Romanian. He doesn’t just look like a foreign noble to whisk you away to an exotic land. No, he really is one! But he wears things, kaftan, it’s called a kaftan, because he grew up in the Ottoman Empire, so he knows even more about culture.”
Yes, now she is really sighing, she wanted to ask him so many things! They talked about so many things on their flight from Whitby to London.
“When he held me in his arms and carried me on angel wings to London I learned so much. I kept asking him even when it was John pretending in the dreamscape before the ritual they did to rip Radu away from me.”
That sigh isn’t as smitten, but it’s okay, her men have loved it better.
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The Ottoman Empire rings a vague bell from his time on Midgard. He only hung around the traditional Aesir stomping grounds in the north of what they call Europe now, but that was one of the larger southern powers, he thinks. Possibly on its way out?
“Mm, you stomp around like there should be a pair of combat boots on your little feet,” he agrees with a chuckle, runs his hand down a leg to cup one of the feet in question- of course it pretty much completely fits into his grip.
“We’ll get him back for you, and then you can ask him all those questions for real, and any others you can think of. One exotic noble villain for your swarm, coming up.”
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That he just says it like that has her wiggle with glee.
“With you at my side, I just know I can go hug him tight! He needs that. There is so much pain in him. His poor drac. I want to love it better. I want him to relax and know I’m happy to take all that pain.”
Is she giggling or chuckling? What is that? She’s not sure, but Caliban likes her being naughty, so she grins.
“And I don’t just mean that because he’s the best sadist there could possibly be.”
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“Oh?” he makes. “Oh, that’s the good stuff, tell me more about that, puppy! Does he do delicious pain biting like you?” For a moment, he considers whether he’s inclined to feel competitive about not being the best sadist, but, somewhat to his surprise, he finds he really doesn’t feel like it.
More like considering whether this swarm business would mean he could get himself a slice of that pain, too.
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“So much better.”
Now that’s a memory she wants to just melt into, so she melts into cuddling Caliban more, opening and closing her hands against his skin again, he seemed to like that last time.
“I’m just a knight. I don’t have his powers. His hunting bite is so, so nice, definitely sent me screaming off the edge, but his mind craft on the soul bites is the very bestest. So deep, so very deep and making everything he feels about me into a full-body sensation. All the different kinds of pain wrapped in a package of being oh so very meaningful because it’s about us two together.”
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“But your hunting bite is a full-body pain thing, too?” He’s pretty sure that’s the hunting bite, and the emotion-sharing one is the soul bite. “How’s that different from his other bite, then?”
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Is she ever happy that her hunting bite is that good for him. That makes her happy! But it really isn’t comparable to how good Radu is.
“I don’t control my hunting bite. It just gives you whatever makes you most likely to not fight me drinking from you. Radu with his mindcraft… It’s…”
Now she wants to remember it properly, so she closes her eyes and reaches inside, because, really, that’s what it was all about, Radu touched her drac as much as her.
“It’s his amusement like tantalising claw raking, his astonishment like jolts of electricity, his fondness like a hug so tight it hurts, his desire like hot coals and rough sex, his happiness like caring whip caresses. And all that while having his entire being, his mind, feel physically so close, so inside yourself that you know he can pick any little wish and fantasy right out of your thoughts, react to your wishes before you even fully realise them. I want to know so badly how his love would feel. What kind of pain could possibly feel so good that it could fit that?”
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“Okay, I can see how that is the kind of experience you don’t get without magic cheating,” Caliban concedes. “Can’t really do all those things at once in the physical world, logistically. Though I’m not sure I’d want someone that deep in my mind.” He considers this. “You, maybe.”
It doesn’t sound like a bad idea when it’s her, but anyone else? That’s, he notices with some amusement, when his normal sense of caution and bodily integrity kicks back in. He’s never been as stroppy about it as your normal, non-half breed Aesir, who would, come to think of it, have an absolute melt-down about vampires sticking their fangs and emotions into them, but there’s still boundaries.
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Now he’s just being silly, but also sweet, so she smacks him gently and leans up to kiss his cheek at the same time.
“You make me sound as if I’m a total harlot! I just want my men in here, not everybody. So well, you said you’d consider marrying me but nobody else, so of course it’s only me you might be okay with having this deep in you.”
Actually, that’s an interesting contemplation, and she wants to know.
“Calidear, I told you how marriage with me would be and you said that sounded nice, but now you are a bit unsure. Can you promise me to tell me if I want too much of you?”
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Yeah, marrying her does come with mind-reading, doesn’t it? She’s implied as much before.
“It does sound nice. When it’s you.” He leans in to kiss her back- forehead, he’s pretty sure, from the feeling of her hair tickling his nose. “Yes, puppy, I’ll tell you.”
Then he lets himself turn less serious again. “And my experience is that you’ll bounce up to a stranger and decide he smells good and is now one of yours, what do I know how many more times you’re going to do that? Which, I don’t see what’s wrong with it, if you want a big swarm, you should have a big swarm.”
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“What do you want? The swarm has to be good for everybody, not just me!”
Of course she kind of wants to just bounce with him calling it a swarm, too, and being so supportive, but that means she needs to be even better for him, and all her men, and she thinks she’s really not prone to liking people. Just, well, when she does, she wants to be really close. And she should tell him.
“It’s just John, Radu, and you. Quincy took a bit longer. And Arthur was really shy.”
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Ah, of course that’s her concern. He tips his head back against the lip of the pool, stares up into the dark, and thinks about it.
What does he want?
“I don’t think I really know what I want there, puppy,” he tells her. “I’ve never… had the chance to be around people I’d want to be around a lot. Casually, sure. A day of drinking and fighting and fucking, sure. But more than that?” He snorts, amused at himself. “I’ve one person I’d call a friend, and he’s fae, so that should tell you something.” He tips his head back down, even though he can’t see her. “You’re the first person I’ve ever met who I’m feeling like…” he waves a hand, “this with. Cuddly. Talking about feelings and what have you. So, yeah, can’t really tell you.”
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“Would you believe me that John had to teach me to be cuddly?” Now she wants to curl herself more around him. The only way she can is by getting up to his shoulders and holding on to his neck and head with all of her. She likes that feeling. She likes hugging him into her and he’s just too big otherwise.
“You have all the time in the world. If you don’t like something, you tell me and I’ll protect you from it! I’ll always love it better and be bouncy for you to learn and find out and just be happy. The things that make Quincy happy wouldn’t make John happy, so it’s okay. I want what’s good for you, it doesn’t have to be the same as the others. I’m happy to be Quincy’s queen and John’s wolf-girl and your puppy and, well, whatever Radu wants exactly.”
Now there’s something she’s convinced of deeply, and that helps her with focusing in on wanting that. She wants to learn what Radu wants of her and what will make Caliban happy in their swarm.
Only one way to get there, keep running!
“Want to go back out and do more hunting so I can finally fly again?”
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“Didn’t really have anyone to cuddle with until him, did you?” he muses, leans in to find her mouth for a lazy kiss. “We keep planning to get my cock into your cunt and getting distracted by talking. Which is a new one for me, but I do like it. So yeah, let’s go hunt some more things and charge you up.”
Which is, hopefully, what the Helheim magic is doing.
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He’s not wrong. But she still feels the urge to defend her papa.
“It’s not as if Papa didn’t want to cuddle me, he just couldn’t. But he always got me stuffed animals, so I still had them. I love my hedgehog! Prickles to rub my chin against, but not as nice as rubbing it against you.” She does just that, over his beard, no stubble there, so it’s nearly a bit too soft, but it smells so nice, even with her having washed it.
“If I can fly us to a nicer place, we could have even nicer attempts at trying how to fit you into me. Also, you didn’t complain about my other two holes. We have options!”
Not that she doesn’t want him everywhere, obviously, but… she needs to get stronger so she can be better for him! And the hunting is the only thing that might help with that.
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“Your other two holes are great,” he agrees, gets his feet under him and his hands up on the pool edge to push himself out. “But, hey, then you knew you liked cuddling stuffed animals. Why couldn’t your papa, though?”
Not that the idea of a father cuddling with a child isn’t… very strange.
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They don’t have a towel… Well, that’s silly. And she shouldn’t make him stand up with her still on his shoulders. She can do a bit of both here.
Turning wolf, she lets herself roll down his body to get some of the water off of him. But she can’t answer like that, so once she has her human face back on, she goes to get his clothes for him, he said he can’t see anything.
“Papa can’t feel pain, so his brain is always really worried about that. He gets stressed when I jump-hug him. I hated that when I was little, I didn’t understand. But of course I still was good for him and didn’t do it.”
Remembering something else in those notes she shouldn’t have read, she ends up smiling.
“Daddy apparently moves in his sleep, too much for Papa to be comfortable, but my mother obviously would like to have her men. Papa’s been trying out different sleep medication on Daddy to see if any of that helps.”
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Caliban snorts at the wolf towel he’s apparently getting- which means he’s damp rather than wet, and also has fur clinging to him. Oh well. It’ll fall off once he dries fully, which, given that it’s Muspellheim, is going to happen soon anyway.
“As a masochist, I have to say the idea of not feeling pain sounds terrible. Better him than me. Also, huh, yeah. Midgardians are already so fragile, but then he can’t tell when he’s injured, can he? That would make you a bit paranoid about sudden physical contact, I guess.”
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It’s not as if Caliban didn’t just describe her worst fear for as long as she can remember, and she’s always tried to hold against it with living as hard as possible in the moment, but she still shudders and hugs her shoulders.
“I was so scared for him every time he left me in my room. At least Daddy was there. But now he has Mother and they have a bloodbond. She’ll protect him, too.”
At a sudden thought, she tilts her head, then laughs.
“Oh, I guess they are a good swarm, too! I just… when it was me and the demon, I was so confused and hurt that Papa would give me away. But now it’s okay that I’m not in Papa’s swarm, now I have a good one of my own.”
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Caliban’s still not sure how reliable her perception of this papa of hers is. She’s clearly devoted to the man (model of what a man should be, apparently, and all,) but there’s the locking up and what not. So he asks: “Did he know that was a demon?”
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At first, she just shakes her head, but then she remembers he can’t see that. She’ll never get what counts as dark to others, and that is so different from just half a year ago. She’s so happy to have her drac, even though they are broken right now!
“No, he didn’t. The demon sprang the question for my hand on my papa right when he finally found me after he had been searching frantically for a few weeks. A few weeks he knew I was alone with two men. If I didn’t marry one of them, society would come after me. He didn’t want me to have to live like that. And I was obsessed and didn’t know better, didn’t trust my drac with how much it felt frustrated that I was in one of those stories where the heroine is supposed to improve a terrible man. Papa approves of John. A lot. He didn’t like the demon, at all, he just thought he didn’t have a choice and that I wanted to marry the demon.”
She’s hugging herself tighter, hugging her drac like that. “My poor Papa. I want us to get back soon so you can make the demon disappear and I can love Papa better.”
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Ah. Well, that speaks for the man. “Yeah, sounds like he thought you were starting your own swarm. So we kill that demon and everything’ll work out fine.”
If they ever get to Midgard. But there’s no point in worrying about that, so… “Alright, can you find my clothes? And get us out of here?”
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“Already on it!” Right, silly her, she stands on top of his clothes and then doesn’t bring them to him. That’s bad of her, so she springs back to that task. Yes, doing something, as her John would say. “Hunt more things, make me strong, then get home to our swarm! Let’s!”
15 Jan 1900
Quincy finds it harder and harder to ignore the howling building in his mind as the days go on. By Tuesday early evening, he misreads half the words in the book in front of him, and what good is it anyway?
They’ve gone over so many things, and the excitement of learning who or rather what he really is, what he might be able to do, is gone.
The whispers next to the howling sound as mocking and cold as the voice of his grandfather, his sister, and he felt the hatred for everything they are settle deep into his bones days ago.
He’s reading these books as a war song, as a battle plan. It’s not about him, it’s about how to win, how to not be like that. Use what his blood gave him to regain what the fae took from him.
Today, there’s another whisper in his mind. It doesn’t even sound like his own voice, strangely sweet and alluring if anything. It encourages him to read on, and he feels compelled, follows it to a different chapter, jumping over several others, and finds himself in a section about the power of names.
The voice lures him on again, and he feels anger rise in him.
Names! He doesn’t have one!
He has a mockery of a name, and at least that wasn’t the fae’s fault. No, that was his abusive father, not even his real father. He… he’s glad he’s gone!
A moment after that thought, the voice from inside his mind sounds out loud from above.
“My pleasure.”
Great, now he’s having hallucinations.
Just that Mariam clearly heard it, too, looks up and blinks several times.
Arthur jumps, head coming up from the notes he was scribbling, looks upwards as well.
“I shall presume I am not, in fact, a hallucination as my dear nephew assumed,” the man sitting on the chandelier says with a smile that has no right to be this pleasant and yet somehow dangerous at the same time.
Quincy looks more closely, finally, and no, he would not have needed that hint. He feels like he’s looking into an enchanted mirror, looking at himself in two decades worth of time that should be centuries. And he’s also looking through Darcy’s eyes the way he did that night soon a month ago.
He has to shake his head violently as her strong emotions try to overshadow his own reaction, burning with how much he wants to remember everything Darcy ever showed him. But not this, not now, preferably never.
Especially not with the smile above him turning smirk.
“Now those are some very interesting thoughts. Thoughts that should be mine by right. So if you would hand over the person who you got them from, I would be much obliged, and willing to leave immediately on good terms.”
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