ELBK00 | Perception | Chapter 14 - Have We Met Before? (Patreon)

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Eiríkr Linnaeus

─── ◯ ☽ ◑ ● ◐ ❨ ◯ ──

My captor, Nathaniel Klein, second born and formally missing Fae heir, sat across from me in the quiet of the library. In the hall one of the guards coughed, the sound of it echoed off the stone and my nose scrunched in disgust. As always, they lingered en masse at every entrance. Clad in their black and silver chainmail uniform they waited with faces as severe as gathering stormclouds. Emotionless, unbothered and insufferably haughty—just ten of my Vanir warriors could open their throats in a matter of minutes.

Nathaniel didn’t so much as glance at the guards, apparently unbothered or accustomed to their ever present watch. Bathed in the warm light of a hooked lamp, his ivory hair glowed radiant like angel fire. His eyes, a lustrous green I hadn’t previously taken the time to appreciate, shone as they traveled back and forth over the parchment in his hands. The tall, thin book was rigid and sparsely decorated, a record of daily happenings in the Fae castle dated for years when I was a child.

I’d been curious when he began this crusade to know how extensive these Fae records were. Did they record my contract? Would reading them give this dumb fairy the information he needed about it? He’d tried to find the years that would have held that information if it was written down, but the tomes were missing. Had Achiacus hidden them? And if he had, was it only so this one couldn’t find them? Or was it so the public didn’t find out about his dealings with Vanir?

A small crease formed between Nathaniel’s brows. He sat back with an irritated scoff, and I scrambled to look anywhere else, lest I be caught staring as I daydreamed.

“I didn’t mean to startle you,” he apologised, the faintest hint of concern touching his voice.

I scowled. “You didn’t.”

His calm expression remained unchanged, and he said nothing more. Not for the first time, I found myself rueful of the fact that he wasn’t alike to his brother. Achaicus is a simple man. Easy to read, predictable. His thoughts show plainly on his face, and I’ve learned how to handle him over the years. But this man… I might have more success trying to guess the inner machinations of a stone. Forceful and domineering one moment, disinterested the next, I couldn’t figure out what he wanted from me.

“I’ve had enough for today,” he announced, “Would you join me for training?”

“Train by yourself,” I muttered with spiteful disinterest.

Killing him during a training ‘accident’ was too perfect and I wasn’t done with him yet. I couldn’t have the command going into effect too early. This one could be the leverage I needed. Achaicus was keeping more than one secret from him, the enemy of my enemy is a friend… I spared a glance sideways to him, is that still true if that ‘friend’ has an identical face to the enemy? 

Part of me wanted to push the truth into the light, to confess everything. But it’s not wise to roll the dice without knowing the outcome. I needed to make sure they were rigged in my favour first and give him the information at the right time.

“You’re such a brat,” a touch of true annoyance touched his voice. 

“And you’re the dumbest person I’ve ever met.”

He stood and I braced myself. Had that been all it would take to unearth the monster I knew he was behind those pretty green eyes? It wouldn’t have surprised me, all Fae are the same. 

His arm wrapped around my waist and he hoisted me off the seat. Caught by the surprise of being carried underarm like a misbehaving toddler I fought to pry his arm off. “Hey! Are you insane? Put me down!”

“Why should I do that when you’re so cooperative.”

Iron. His arm was like iron. “Where are you taking me? I’ll apologise. Just—” my voice failed as I considered that he might be taking me back to my cell. “Wait-, wait please I’m sorry.” My pleas became genuine as I imagined the grated floors and remembered the cold table. 

Panic blurred the halls and passages until Nathaniel was dropping me onto a familiar velvet couch. I curled there. Covering my head in my arms as I tried to comprehend how or why I wasn’t imprisoned in that cold damp room.

“Eiríkr…” Nathaniel sat beside me. His soft spoken utterance of my name brought a stab of pain that brought tears to my eyes.

“Don’t call me that, my name is Mercurisson,” I hissed. 

The back of his fingers petted my arm, “You’re more than that.”

“No I’m not…” I whispered, gritting my teeth against the wash of emotion. “Get away from me, get out of this room! Just go away and never come back! I hate this! I hate you!” I shouted until my voice was hoarse and waited.

Silence. 

It drew out for long seconds until I felt Nathaniel lean closer. His lips pressed against my temple in a gentle kiss so light I thought I might have imagined it. “I’ll come back,” he promised softly.

If I cared, I might have heard the pain in his voice or lingered on the gentleness of his touch. What did it matter to me if he left and never came back? The door opened and a guard in the hall sneezed. Maybe Nathaniel would get sick and die, I thought bitterly.

***

Using the hours of freedom I had without him, I wallowed. Nesting under his bed I lay between the trinkets and counted the crystals in the room. Disquiet made me restless as I waited. I wanted him to go, but now I wanted him to come back. If he would sit and talk to me I could learn more about the castle, and the war outside of it… I could listen to his voice… 

When the day faded and night came, Nathaniel still had not returned. My stomach grumbled, having become too accustomed to being fed, it thought it had the right to protest. The night grew darker, until I was forced to turn on the lamp, but still he did not return. Not knowing what else to do I opened the door, and peeked into the hall. The guards waited at the end of it, lingering near the top of the stairs, the echo of coughing from distant soldiers travelled to my ears, and I closed the door again, disgusted. 

Where was that dumb fairy? 

The night passed and I grew more restless. Spiteful of his abandonment I piled ornaments and crystals into his bed and pulled the covers back over them. Satisfied with that, I began rearranging the furniture in his room. Pushing the cupboards into a barrier line across the balcony doors and the center of the room until I was left with a smaller, secure, square fortress.

Still he didn’t come. Was he taking what I had said literally? Would he never come back? My stomach knotted itself as I waited, until at last Nathaniel returned the following day. 

He entered through the door like a man ready to collapse. Shrugging off his coat and loosening his shirt collar as he fought to unbutton his shoes. Noticing the rearranged furniture he paused, and searched for me. “Was this necessary?” His voice sounded tired as well. 

“You were late coming back.” I muttered as if we had agreed upon a time. 

Ignoring me, he went to bathe and I followed him to the door. “Why were you gone so long?” I called, resting my head against the door to listen as the water ran. 

“I was busy,” he called back. 

“Busy with what?”

Nathaniel coughed. “Nothing that’s of concern to you.” 

I wondered if he was getting sick. All the guards had been and with the way the Fae congregated for meals, it seemed likely. 

“Well, you were gone too long,” I huffed, folding my arms as I listened to him cough again.

When he was finished bathing, he pulled on a set of fresh night clothes and collapsed onto the bed. Ornaments crunched under his weight and he begrudgingly sat back up again. “What did you do?” He murmured, looking over to me with defeat in his eyes. 

“Technically you did it, not me.”

He pulled back the covers to reveal a mess of broken trinkets and pointy crystals. “Eiríkr, please…” 

I shifted from one foot to the other, uncomfortable with the sorrow in his voice. “Like I said, you’re the one who just laid down without looking.”

Nathaniel rubbed a hand over his face, “I’m invoking one of your favors to me. Please clean this up so that I can lay down.” He mumbled. 

“you’re invoking a favor just for this?”

He nodded, although it looked like it took him a thousand years to do so. 

“…fine.” I muttered, moving to clean up the mess for him. 

I removed all the pieces and stripped the bed while he laid on the couch. Such a pointless thing to call a favor for… when it was done I kicked the couch until he got up. The man stumbled back to the bed and fell onto it for a second time, but didn’t bother to get into it. 

“I’m invoking a second favor..” he began quieter. “Come lay with me…” 

A favor for cleaning and now for company? If this was all he would ask of me, he was wasting his favors. Still, I didn’t know what to expect. Perhaps it wasn’t as simple as it seemed. With shy caution, I approached and laid with him. 

Keeping my distance at first I noticed the warmth of colour in his cheeks and ears, the sheen of sweat on his brow. He shivered fractionally in place—most certainly sick. I’d expected he might try more when I was close, but he didn’t move. 

“Are you feeling okay…?” I asked as nonchalantly as I could.

“I'm fine…” 

He didn’t look it. His eyes grew heavy and I found myself accidentally moving closer. I sat with my back against the headboard cushioned by a wall of pillows propped up, and Nathaniel curled between my legs. The weight of his head on my thigh put pressure on my damaged leg, and to my surprise, the pain stopped. He must’ve been laying right where he needed to ease the pinching.

His chest rose and fell in an agitated rhythm, heat flushing his cheeks despite the way he sought my body heat as if he were cold. I leaned over him as I rested my palm against his forehead. “You stood too close to those guards didn’t you…” I chided lightly.

“Quiet…” he breathed the complaint.

“You’re cute when you’re helpless like this…” I teased, feeling Achaicus’s command begin to surface.

“I’m not helpless…” The denial quelled the command. “I’m just cold…” 

I moved my hand off to press my lips against his temple, and felt the warmth radiating off him. He certainly wasn’t cold. Was his magic out of balance? “You’ve got a fever… idiot…” I murmured against his skin before sitting up again.

A lock of his hair fell back into place when I pulled away, and I tucked it back. Odd that I should feel so inclined to take care of him.

“I’m fine,” he insisted. 

Delusional. “Is this why they kept you locked up somewhere? You’re truly too insane to be among the general population?” He had to be, to want me near him.

“I wasn’t locked up anywhere,” Nathaniel sighed, exasperated.

No one had seen both the twins as far back as I could remember, and only one had fought against my father in the battle of Leúchtend. I pulled on his hair lightly, letting the shorter strands fall through my fingertips as I thought. It was Lazarus who tried to defeat my father, dismally.

“Are you an ally of my mothers?” I asked, keeping my voice noncommittal as if I couldn’t care less.

“No,” he answered with closed eyes.

Not helpful. “Brigetta’s?” I queeried more skeptical.

“... No,” he breathed the word with a long, sonorous, exhale. 

I was running out of possibilities. “Were you a secret ally of my fathers?” Mercury didn’t tell me everything, so it was possible.

Nathaniel gave a dry chuckle, coughing politely for the effort. “No.”

“Then why be here? Why save me? Why not torture me,” I muttered, tugging on his hair to scold him.

He startled with the motion, and rolled over to glare up at me. 

I returned it with a sour scowl of my own. “Well? Why.” I demanded again.

“I’m here for you,” he answered solemnly. 

I stared at him for a long moment until regaining my composure. “There’s something wrong with you. Someone dropped you on your head as a baby or something.”

“You’re an insolent little brat,” he muttered, and for a moment I thought I might have pushed him too far. “But you’re warm… so I have to put up with it.” 

The fairy settled back into place, cuddling around my thigh on the damaged side as if it were a pillow. Did he know it was injured? Could he sense the magic supporting it? Would he be repulsed to know? The quieter thought stirred discomfort and I fidgeted. “Do you have to hold my leg like that…?”

“Yes.”

Dismayed, I shook my head with a tsk. “You’re pathological. There’s no helping you.”

At least an insane fairy wasn’t likely to interfere with my plans. I ran my fingers into his hair absently, surprised by how smooth the tick strands were and how shiny the white. I pulled on a fistful of it lightly and he readjusted. 

“You’re not allowed to touch Fae hair,” he complained, although didn’t sound upset. 

“Do you want me to stop?”

“…No,” he assured.

“Good.” I wasn’t going to tell him the texture interested me.

The scent of jasmine wafted off his hair and breathing it brought the sense of déjà vu, as if I had known him for longer than I thought. “Nathaniel…” I began hesitantly.

He gave no answer, and I glanced down to see he had fallen asleep. With a small relieved breath, I let all the false emotions fall from my face and watched him with neutral curiosity. Interesting that he should be so willing to trust me, and that his face could look so peaceful resting against me. 

I’d wanted to ask if we had met before, just to see his reaction, but it would have to wait…

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