Eric Linnaeus | Book 3 | Chapter 11 - Glass Cat (Patreon)

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𝔾𝕝𝕒𝕤𝕤 ℂ𝕒𝕥ɴᴀᴛʜᴀɴɪᴇʟ ᴋʟᴇɪɴ: ᴍᴀʀᴄʜ - ᴀᴘʀɪʟ, 𝟸𝟶𝟶𝟶.

─── .✦········· ───

It was another restless night as a spring storm engulfed Dunkel. Much of the day’s efforts had been directed toward preparing the castle for the incoming weather, and I had retired to bed early to escape the demands of others. Since then, I had laid awake for hours, listening to waves of rain wash against the glass panels of the balcony doors. It was not more than a muted hiss, as the glass was thick and the fastenings secure, yet it bothered me. Eric and Charles had not returned from their most recent case, and I imagined they were caught out in the rain.

Of course I knew that was ridiculous. They were grown men, not helpless children. Still, they were only human; what if they got sick? I tried not to think about it. In addition to the unreasonable anxieties, my chest hurt. I could hardly take a breath without sharp pain spreading under my ribs like an electric shock, and occasionally, my heart beat irregularly, further preventing me from sleeping.

I’m not entirely sure when I succumbed to exhaustion, but I awoke in complete darkness to the soft click of the door closing, and my eyes snapped open. My skin was clammy, and my head felt heavy. A lightning bolt illuminated a figure approaching the bed, and my energy flared as I struggled to understand what was happening.

“It’s just me,” Eric’s voice cut through the dark, and I relaxed somewhat.

“You’re back?” I murmured, wiping my brow with the back of my arm.

“Some hours ago, I thought you would have heard.”

There was a soft clatter as he set a small item down on the nightstand and began shrugging off his gear, leaving his sword and shoes haphazardly on the floor as he undressed.

“What are you doing?” I grumbled as I sat up to turn on the light.

“I’m sleeping here tonight. If you have a problem, leave.”

“I’m not going to leave; this is my room.”

“Then stop complaining.”

Hot irritation burned through my veins, the nerve of this man, “Get out,” I told him firmly.

“No,” he answered, uncaring.

“Do I have to make it an order?”

“Try it,” Eric warned coldly, and I clenched my teeth in frustration. Bitter magic coated my tongue like venom. It would be no effort to speak the command. Still, I refrained; I hadn’t forgotten what he had told me at Leúchtend.

He sat beside me and rested the back of his hand against my cheek. “What now?” I demanded half-heartedly as my annoyance turned to confusion. His touch brought an unusual sense of comfort that I refused to acknowledge.

“You’re warm…” he commented softly, although his expression betrayed no emotion.

“I’m fine.”

“How’s your heart? Did you go to your appointment with Markos like you were supposed to?”

“Yes,” I assured, not that he seemed satisfied with that as he glanced toward the adjoining bathroom.

Eric delayed as he calculated, then stood and stumbled away, leaving me baffled as he disappeared into the bathroom. He wore only a shirt and his underwear, so I could see the gift markings down his leg were almost depleted, and I wondered if he would even be able to make it back. I waited, ready to go help him, but he returned only a moment later with a cold, damp cloth in hand and fell into place beside me, “All that effort for a towel?” I asked skeptically.

“You’re too warm,” he repeated as if that was an explanation.

“I’m perfectly fine,” I insisted.

Eric snorted, displeased, but didn’t bother arguing. Instead, he coaxed me into lying back down and lightly dabbed my forehead with the towel. He was caring for me just as he had done in the infirmary at Leúchtend. It brought on a profound sense of security, and I was initially too stunned to respond.

“Tell me about your appointment with Markos. Did he say anything?” he asked, catching me off guard.

“When have you ever known him to be silent?”

“You know what I mean; did he say anything about your energy?” As he spoke, he paused to remove loose strands of hair from my face, and I turned away, embarrassed.

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Nathaniel…”

“What?” I sneered.

“I know it bothers you…”

The gentle way in which he spoke made me feel ill. There was concern in his voice, and I felt shame. “…I can’t use my energy like I used to. I can hardly make it up a flight of stairs without my chest hurting. Achaicus is stronger than I am now, and there’s nothing I can do about it. Everyone keeps asking me if I’m alright, but what if I’m not? What if my power never returns..?” Admitting it aloud made my stomach churn.

“You’re afraid?”

“…Fae value strength.”

“That’s not the only measure of value.”

After all this time, he still didn’t understand. “Everything we do is about power and control. If you’re weak, you might as well not exist. My brother and I have a level of strength few others have; we were identical; we matched in every way… but now…”

“You can’t truly believe that?” I didn’t answer; I supposed telling him was a mistake, “Nathaniel, you have more worth than that.”

“I don’t see how.”

“Look at all the changes you’ve made. Every alliance you’ve formed.”

“None of those things were my ideas. They were yours, or Achaicus’s; it was even Markos’s idea about the Fae to the South.”

“You were the only one with the power to make the changes that did so. No one else bothered because it was too hard. You knew it was difficult, yet you did it anyway. How many times were you told not to? Or that it shouldn’t, or couldn’t be done? You always know what the right thing to do is; you succeed where others would fail. That’s your true strength, and it never wavers. Your magic will return in full with time; don’t be so hard on yourself.”

“You’re far too wise for a human,” I mumbled awkwardly. I wasn’t sure I believed him, but it was nice to hear.

“Could you repeat that? I’m not sure I heard you correctly,” Eric teased as he set the cloth aside.

“You heard me perfectly well…”

“I did,” he agreed, “And you would do well to remember it the next time you tell me I can’t do something.”

“Such a brat…” I murmured, trailing off as I turned back to glare at him, only to realize how near we had become. We were like two magnets slowly being drawn toward one another. I was sitting up slightly to be closer, and he was leaning over me.

Eric became aware of it in the same instance as I and averted his gaze downward while my heart rate quickened as I hoped. Was he going to kiss me again? He had said he wouldn’t; had he changed his mind? Slow seconds passed as he decided, and I held my breath. “-I…” he started remorsefully, and I swallowed hard.

“It’s okay…” I breathed so inaudibly that I hardly said the words at all, and his lips found mine instantaneously.

The first kiss was tentative, uncertain. It surprised me how naturally it came, and when he pulled away, it was too soon. This wasn’t something I’d previously given any thought to, but as he lingered near me, I reached up to draw him back. The distance between us closed. He pressed himself to me, and his lips parted when mine brushed against them. From there, the escalation was immediate.

He kissed me passionately for the returned gesture, and my concentration dissolved. I hardly noticed as he pushed me back down. He held one of my wrists in his hand while the other pushed up my shirt to rest on my waist so that he was holding me down firmly. He was stronger than I expected, I realized with mild interest, not that I put up any resistance. Kissing him was effortless; he didn’t taste of anything, and I pulled him closer to me.

“Eric…” I murmured his name in quiet protest as he unbuttoned my nightshirt.

For reasons I can’t explain, being undressed raised some long-buried anxiety, and I wondered how far he intended to go. But when he affectionately kissed the underside of my jaw, I forgot whatever complaint I had, and tilted my head back for him. He licked the side of my neck, and his teeth grazed my skin, causing me to shiver involuntarily. It was unexpectedly pleasant. The sensations were confusing, and I didn’t want him to stop.

Eric’s grip on my wrist readjusted. He intertwined his fingers in mine, and his hair tickled my throat as he continued down to my chest. He was gentle with me, but I fidgeted when his free hand reached my waistband.

“Wait,” I stated abruptly, catching his wrist before he could touch me. A new emotion was replacing the calm, and an unsettling amount of panic was taking hold. “Please… I…” I couldn’t explain; I just wanted him to stop.

Eric paused as he considered what I said, “…You don’t want me to..?”

“…No.”

“Okay…” he agreed calmly, but as he moved off me, shame slowly spread through my body.

From the little emotion Eric had, he looked guilt-ridden, as if he was the one who had done something wrong. But I was the one who shouldn’t have kissed him in the first place, let alone enjoyed it. He sat beside me, and I covered my face with an arm. If anyone knew about this, I would never recover. I couldn’t even decide what was worse—starting it at all? Or not following through?

“Nathaniel…” Eric spoke, interrupting my regrets.

“…What?” I muttered reluctantly.

“Are you okay?”

“I’m fine.”

“Do you want me to go..?” he asked quietly, and I sighed as I readjusted to look at him.

“If I wanted you to leave, I would have said so,” I assured.

There was a flicker of relief in his eyes, but he hesitated as he decided whether to stay, and I became impatient. “Eric, lay down,” I told him firmly, “And be still. If you’re going to share my bed, you had better not be getting up and down all night.”

“…I won’t,” he assured, carefully laying back beside me. He looked uncertain in a way I had never seen from him before, and I hated myself for it. I half expected that he would leave regardless.

─── .✦········· ───

When morning came I was relieved to see Eric still beside me, curled away with most of the blankets as if he were cold. I blinked slowly as I regained consciousness. He’s peaceful when he sleeps, and I had forgotten how pretty he is. The contrast between his dark hair and porcelain skin almost made him look angelic. Would he notice if I kissed him right now?

The idea was shameful, and I groaned to myself as the night before came back to me. I shouldn’t have let him stay. Renewed chagrin infiltrated my thoughts, and I agonized. What was I thinking? Behaving so foolishly with him? If Markos knew, I would never hear the end of it.

Eventually an object on the nightstand caught my attention, and I reached over Eric to grab it. I vaguely remembered he had placed something down when he first came in, and it was with trepidation that I examined the thing. It was a beautiful sitting cat with polished angles that reflected small rainbows in the light as I twisted it around in my fingertips. I knew it was what he had placed among the rest of my collection, for it was the only piece I didn’t recognize.

“Do you like it?” Eric spoke, startling me; I hadn’t noticed him wake.

“Yes. What is it?”

“A cat…”

That wasn’t what I meant. “Yes, but why is it here? What is its purpose?” I demanded, irritated, and he looked distinctly bemused.

“It’s a gift.”

“For what occasion?”

“No occasion. I saw it while I was working and thought you might like it.”

I was quiet as I processed what he said, “Is something wrong with you?” I asked suspiciously, and Eric scowled. He looked something between annoyed and embarrassed.

“Whatever, I won’t do it again then.”

“That’s not what I’m saying. I meant, thank you… It’s very kind,” I assured more softly as I reached out to him.

Eric caught my wrist before I could touch him and held it, initially apprehensive of my intentions until he understood I meant no harm. He calmed and allowed me to brush the hair from his face.

“You’re welcome,” he mumbled begrudgingly, and I chuckled. He was just as much of a brat as always, and that was reassuring.

“We should get up. Breakfast will be served soon,” I reminded him as I gently set the cat back down.

“I’m not going to breakfast this morning.”

“Why not?”

He hesitated, “I left my cane somewhere, and I can’t walk right now.”

Sometimes I forgot about that, but it wasn’t a problem; I could carry him in one arm, which was exactly what I moved to do. I slid my arm under his waist to pick him up, and he squirmed, trying to push me away.

“Nathaniel, wait- don’t.”

“I can carry you.”

“You can, but I don’t want you to.”

“Why not? Don’t you need to eat?”

“There are so many reasons why you can’t. To begin, it’s impractical and embarrassing. So please don’t. I don’t like reminding everyone that I can’t really walk.”

I thought about his request for a moment. Ordinarily, I would have done what I wanted regardless. Especially since he needed to eat and was clearly neglecting his physical needs for an emotional whim. Still, I was inclined to oblige his request.

“…Alright,” I agreed, slowly letting him go again.

He waited, as if expecting me to retract my agreement, before he relaxed. “Thank you…”

“You don’t need to thank me; I don’t own you…”

“And it only took seventy years and a near-death experience for you to get it?”

“Careful now, Eric,” I muttered. I don’t think he understood the level of damage the salt did or how much I didn’t want to be reminded of it.

He caught hold of my arm to bring me back as I pulled away, “That was a joke. I wasn’t saying that to hurt you.”

“I would prefer you not remind me of it just as much as you prefer people not to remember you can’t walk.”

“Okay… I’m sorry…” he agreed sincerely, then asked, “Do you have to go right now?”

“I suppose not. Why?”

“Because I want you to lay back down with me…”

“For what purpose?”

“Because I asked.”

Arguing with that kind of statement was hard, and I cautiously laid back down. Eric had always disliked it when I walked away from him, and I presumed he wanted me to stay for that reason as he continued, “Talk to me for a while. The castle doesn’t need you right now…”

It’s never been difficult to speak with him. Rather, our conversations often stretched on for hours, and that day was no exception. As waves of rain washed against the windows outside with a muted hiss and water trickled down the glass, we stayed among warm sheets. We lay curled toward each other with our foreheads almost touching and spoke in soft whispers.

We discussed his job and my collection; how he didn’t grow bored of hearing where I acquired each piece is beyond me, and time fell away. From then on, against my better judgment, Eric would stay in my room most nights, and I grew accustomed to his presence again.

─── .✦········· ───

When the day came that Charles mistook my room for Eric’s, it was somewhat of a surprise. Still, it was fortunate as I had wanted to speak with him for some time, and I doubted I would be permitted to if Eric were around. For some reason, he didn’t particularly like it when Charles and I spoke.

Regardless, as I spent more time with the human, the more I came to find that I rather liked him. His sarcasm and jokes were quite endearing. We trained not far into the forest beside the waterfall. The water flowed freely this time of the year, and the area was lush as the sun shone brightly.

“Tell me again what I’m supposed to be doing exactly?” he asked skeptically.

“Breathing.”

“Right. Got that part down.”

I chuckled, and he looked mildly horrified; I’m not sure what he thought I would do to him. “Breathing with concentration,” I clarified, “Focus on feeling the energy movement through your body. As you take the breath in, let it flood your veins, and as you breathe out, release it with the exhale. Build it up like ocean waves.”

He took in a deep breath, and his eyes flickered with red energy for just a moment. “Nope. It just feels like breathing to me,” he announced finally.

I sighed to myself, “I can see it, Charles. You’re thinking too human. If you believe you can’t do it, then of course you can’t. You have to accept that it’s a part of you.”

“What if I can’t control it?”

“Then I’ll re-tighten the seal.”

“Remind me again why you won’t just do that now?”

“Because it’s unnecessary. Besides, you’ll be far more useful once you can harness the energy.”

“Useful?”

“Yes.”

Charles waited as if expecting me to elaborate before he seemed to understand I wouldn’t. “Right, well, I guess I’ll keep trying then.”

It took him a week to learn how to breathe appropriately, and then we moved on to basic manifestations. For Fae, our energy is second nature to us. It occupies all our cells and is produced in glands similar to human lymph nodes. We emit it effortlessly as our bodies produce a continual excess that leaks out. It’s present at all stages of our lives; but our true abilities develop in early adolescence and can be challenging to control. Particularly as emotions are also difficult to manage at that age.

To use energy effectively, one must have a strong resolve and unwavering focus. Certain states of mind inhibit the production of magic, while others produce an unmanageable amount all at once. Similarly, if we wished to mask our auras, it would take an ongoing effort; and few would do so, as it’s dishonest.

I kept these differences in mind as I taught the human. His timid nature strangled his true potential, and the resulting hesitancy caused instability in his manifestations. We began small, where I asked him to concentrate his energy in the palm of his hand. Typically, it may look like a flame or smoke, but his looked more akin to feeble water splashes, and we had to begin over.

Unfortunately, demonstrating how it was supposed to look for him over and over was too much for me, and I cut the training short.

“Are you alright?” he asked, concerned when I leaned back against one of the trees at the edge of the clearing.

“I’ll be fine,” I assured; every heartbeat radiated pain through my rib cage, and my chest was tight. But I was used to it by now, and it wasn’t as bad as it had been.

“Are you sure? Because I’m fairly sure if you die in the forest with me, Eric will smite me or something.”

I couldn’t help but laugh, and that only hurt more. “Eric wouldn’t harm you. He cares for you far too much for that.” I sat down slowly, and Charles joined me.

The man was covered in bruises from training with Calla and light burns from training his magic with me. “You should go see Markos.”

“Ah, nah, I’m alright,” he dismissed my suggestion without even considering it.

“You understand it’s his job to heal training injuries? If you don’t want to see him, I’m sure any of the nurses would be more than happy to tend to you.” Charles looked equally as reluctant with that suggestion, “Unless there’s some other reason?” I prompted.

“…No one else ever goes to the infirmary.”

“Of course they do.”

“Not Eric, not you, not Calla…”

“Eric and Calla rarely get injured now, but they were constantly in there as children–especially Eric: broken wrists, fractured ribs, sprained ankles, viral infections. Achaicus put me in charge of the paperwork for it all; I can’t even recall the amounts I had to fill out for the both of them, and all the others. Injuries happen when you’re in training.”

“They’ve been here since they were children?”

“Yes.”

“…How did they get here? I mean, they weren’t ‘kidnapped by the Fae,’ were they?”

I looked over to him, bemused, “‘Come away, o human child. To the waters and the wild, with a faery, hand in hand…’” I quoted the simple passage to him.

Charles was quiet, no doubt choosing his next words carefully, “…What about their families?”

“Mm~ We found Calla in Korea. Her mother was a pleasure house worker, so her father could have been any number of men. As for Eric… It would seem I have a bad habit of bringing stray things home. He was too old to be chosen when I met him, and I never intended to take him. But he burned down the orphanage, and I couldn’t leave him behind. My brother was not pleased.”

“So you don’t know anything about his parents either?”

“Not much; his file had a letter signed by one Bridgett Linnaeus. It gave no information that I believed, and he turned feral when I asked who she was. Even under compulsion, he wouldn’t tell me. He resisted so strongly that he cried and vomited… I had to rescind the command to prevent him from hurting himself. Why do you ask?”

“No reason; I just wondered if it was only me he wouldn’t tell.”

“I wouldn’t take it personally. There are some things that should never be said, and I don’t believe he’s told anyone.”

“Can I ask you something else?”

“What is it?”

“Do you… ahh, I mean… I have this medication that I’m supposed to take, and I’ve run out. So I hoped we could go into town again to get more?”

“There are a great number of medications in the infirmary.”

“Great, yeah, I was still hoping to avoid that.”

“Why?” I asked simply; of course I knew he hadn’t given me the whole truth before.

Charles hesitated then, running his hands over his face before he continued quietly, “Does your kind feel fear?”

I wasn’t expecting that, “Of course we feel fear.”

“Have you ever been afraid of anything, though?”

“There are certain situations that I would prefer not to face,” I agreed with caution, and he continued more quietly.

“Sometimes my chest gets tight, and I can’t breathe. It feels like I’m going to have a heart attack… Like everything is spiraling out of control, and I can’t do a damn thing about it. I never know which scary thing is going to happen or who’s going to get hurt. I’m afraid all the time, not only for myself, but for everyone else as well. What if Markos hurts my sister? What if this witch-demon-whatever takes me over, and I hurt someone? With everything that’s happened, I feel like I have no control over my life anymore…” He paused to breathe before continuing, “So, I can’t go into the infirmary because Markos makes all those feelings surface, and I don’t need that today.”

I listened until he stopped speaking. Human emotions are remarkably similar to our own, I realized, and I understood, more than I would have liked, how he felt. “…Have you told Eric this?”

“Some of it…”

“Why not tell him all of it?”

“Because if he knew everything, he’d think less of me.”

“Then why did you tell me?”

“Because you already hate me, you can’t think any less of me than you already do,” he muttered flatly.

“I don’t dislike you,” I corrected calmly, and he hesitated.

“Are you sure about that?”

“Regrettably, I find I understand why Eric is so fond of you. You’re quite charming,” I admitted reluctantly, “His concern over your well-being bothered me; the lengths he was willing to go to save you were extreme. He cares for you greatly, and sometimes it hurts to see.”

“You’re jealous?” he sounded uncertain, if not mildly shocked.

“I suppose so. I did terrible things to him, and I worry he might change his mind about forgiving me. I thought I knew best, and I ignored his wishes many times. I was very alike to my father, and there’s nothing I regret more deeply than my actions in the past.”

He was quiet momentarily before speaking again: “You’re not so bad… for a monster that eats people, I mean.”

That caught me by surprise, and I smiled, amused, “You should tell him in full how you feel. Eric is quiet, and he makes himself difficult. But if you need him, he will help you. As for the rest, as long as this castle is mine, no one in it will harm you or Claire, not even Markos. You have my word.”

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