ELBK00 | Perception | Chapter 15 - Poisoning Dumb Fairies. (Patreon)

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Eiríkr Linnaeus

─── ◯ ☽ ◑ ● ◐ ❨ ◯ ──

The sheets rustled as I readjusted, leaning onto the pressure touching my head. The pleasant feeling it gave made me seek it out when it moved away and I squirmed after it. I thought it was the headboard, until it chuckled. The low sound vibrated through me like the purr of a cat and my eyes snapped open. 

I was cuddled too close against Nathaniel, snuggled really, in a way I shouldn’t have been. His fingers were tangled into my hair, scratching my scalp in slow, gentle movements and I jerked away. 

“Good morning to you as well,” he commented, taking the opportunity to stretch as if I’d been blocking him from doing so.

Through blurry eyes and immense exhaustion, I glared at him like I hoped he would disappear. What did he think he was doing? Petting my hair? Letting me be so close?

His unsmiling expression softened looking at me, and I noticed he was no longer feverish.

 “If you weren’t done sleeping, you don’t have to move away,” he offered. 

“What makes you think I want to be anywhere near you?” I snapped back.

Nathaniel waited, fixing me with a level gaze. “Don’t you?”

The question struck something inside of me that hurt and I stared back unable to process. I’d spent too long alone. Been left behind too many times, and as the pain swelled up, I sank down like a beaten dog. Too prideful to agree, and too afraid to disagree I cowered at the edge of the bed, a heartbeat away from disappearing under it.

“It’s okay, you can come back, I won’t go away.”

“You don’t mean it…” I whispered.

“Come,” he laced the word with gentle magic and I let the order pull me without resistance. 

The fae took me back without a moment's hesitation, as easily as breathing. His arms curled around my waist, squeezing the air from my lungs as his hand came to rest on my throat. I understood the trick too late. I had let my need blind me, and he was finally going to kill me. This had all been a game. He just wanted to see me let my guard down. Foolish. Idiotic.

I gave a small sound as he constricted, and tried to pry his hands off. “Wait- you can’t…” 

His leg hooked over mine, fully immobilizing my struggles. “I can,” he breathed against my neck. “You’re mine, and you’ll never get away.”

An involuntary shiver of pleasure ran up my spine. I could still breathe. Why wasn’t I dead? “Please…?” I tried feebly. 

“No, I’m keeping you.”

My racing heart slowed to a steady thud, that spread serenity in waves of peace. “You’re… not sane..” I breathed. 

“And you’re not struggling anymore.” He pointed out, and I felt his lips twitch into a savage kind of smile. His teeth scraped my skin as his jaws opened over my throat and I closed my eyes. He had the eating sickness, that’s why he was feverish. 

His teeth sank into my neck and I startled awake. 

With blankets tangled around me and sweat beaded on my brow I struggled to blink myself awake. I swallowed hard. Reaching a shaking hand up to feel my throat, and clenching a muscle in my thigh to calm my body's other reaction to the dream, I took in slow deep breaths. What was that? And why did I like hearing him tell me I couldn’t escape?

When my heart beat calmed I sat up to look for Nathaniel. The bed beside me was empty, the sheets left open as abandoned as I felt. He wouldn’t keep me. He wouldn’t even stay with me… 

Pain radiated up my thigh as I swung my legs over the edge of the bed. Crippled by the hot fire up my nerves, I doubled over, and clenched my teeth against it. The scar tissue did this sometimes. Misfiring signals sent pain where there should be none, but there was no helping it. If I didn’t endure this, the spell conductivity wouldn’t be high enough. It’s all or nothing and I would rather anything to not being able to walk.

Sweat formed on my brow as I massaged the scar tissue and waited for it to pass. It began to subside after a moment more and I snatched the nearest crystal from the nightstand to hurl it at the wall across the room. This was that stupid fairies fault for laying on my leg. Fresh rage bubbled to the surface. 

How dare he leave me alone now!? —the thought froze me in place as if it wasn’t my own. What did I care about where he went? If he was here or not… where did this desperate, crushing need for him come from?

As I missed the sensation of his arm around waist and his hand on my throat—the door opened. It swung inward with unnecessary force, slamming against the wall. I froze in place as Achaicus stood there, his arms folded, his face scrunched as if he’d stepped in dog mess on his way over. His eyes scanned the room from left to right, and finding no identical Fae to himself, came to rest on me.

“Where is he?” Achaicus demanded. 

“How should I know?” I backed up as I spoke. Seeking something, anything to hide me. 

“Come here,” he ordered, and my feet obeyed despite the protest of my mind. 

I stopped just inside the barrier, as the man waved two guards forward. They lumbered up the stairs carrying a large wooden box between them by thin metal handles. They set it down with a clumsy thud, and Achaicus turned his attention back to me. 

“Distribute this among the room.” He pushed it through the barrier with his foot. 

“What is it?” I asked blandly. 

The barrier disallowed his entry, and when he couldn’t push it any further I made no move to take it. 

“Salt.” Achaicus spoke with some smug satisfaction, like he was in on a joke I was not. “Hide it as close to him as possible.”

“I hate to break it to you, but I’m pretty sure he’ll notice a giant box.” I dared not react beyond a cursory glance at it. The thick, square box looked like a treasure chest. Ironic only because it carried a biological weapon against Fae, not gold.

“Open it. Empty it, and throw it off the balcony when you’re done,” the Fae explained irritably, like I was a toddler too slow to understand the concept.

We’d almost been on speaking terms once, and I’d known him long enough to understand his moods. This wasn’t a good one.

Dragging my eyes away from the box, I chanced a look back up at Achaicus. “You’re trying to weaken him. Does he scare you so much?” I taunted. 

“Asphyxiate.”

I should have predicted that. The air thinned and my breathing stopped, leaving me unable to draw breath nor exhale, but I kept my expression neutral. He’d done this to me far too many times.

“You will spread the salt in a subtle manner so as not to get caught, but in the most effective way possible,” he commanded. “I want his power under lock and key.”

My lungs began to burn and I swallowed dryly as I began to collapse, gasping in useless involuntary motions that brought no air. If his words weren’t weighted with magic, I might not have heard them at all for the buzzing in my ears.

Achaicus waited until my vision began to blur before he gave the counter command. “Breathe.”

I sucked in a gulp of air, and choked on the suddenness of it.

“And-“ I coughed. “if he notices the salt?” 

“Well, I did warn him against keeping a Vanir. It seems you bribed the guards with your charm. After all, no one else could enter the room but you.” He gave a feigned look of concern before the sour expression returned and he turned away. 

I wanted to lash out after him. To fight and claw, but it was useless. At least dousing this other one with salt was beneficial to me in some way. Maybe if it weakened him enough, I would be safe from his commands as well. 

Inside the chest were tied velvet bags filled with sodium. I spent the better half of the afternoon stuffing them under his bed and under the lowest drawers of his night stands. What was one more bag in a sea of clutter? Paranoid of every sound I ignored the pain in my leg and jumped at every small sound. I crushed some of the salt to sprinkle like dust into the carpet and under the fitted sheet, before hiding more in the canopy above his bed.  

When I was done, I threw the chest off the balcony, and watched as guards collected its splintered remains from the pavement below. 

Efficient if nothing else.

Exhausted, I crawled under the bed again to etch more spells into the underside of the frame. Simple carvings scratched into the wood that he so far hadn’t noticed. I would need them for when he decided to stop playing nice. Something I was sure would happen any day now. I knew he wouldn’t let me regain too much of my strength. 

Moreover, what would happen if he found the salt? Achaicus was no fool. He knew what he was doing. I was the only one that could enter this room, and the minute Nathaniel found out about the salt he would know it was me. Would he question where I’d gotten the salt from? 

I lingered on that thought. Fiddling idly with the rune I was carving with a sharp crystal. Was this perhaps a test? Was I supposed to fall gushing into Nathaniel’s arms and tell him about his brother to prove my apparent ‘loyalty’. Or was this Achaicus testing my ‘loyalty’ to him? It could have been simpler than that. No test. Just one brother trying to destroy the other, and setting me up to take the blame. My stomach churned with the possibilities. Was there a right answer?

Pushing down the rising dread, I finished carving the spell. If I was asked about the bags, I would just have to lie and hope. Charm him, if I could—fight him if I couldn’t. Achaicus was far easier to understand and work around. Even Markos was preferable to this dumb, insane Fae. Understanding Nathaniel and his stoic, unmoving, uninteresting face makes talking to the slabs of stone in the walls a worthwhile task. 

The click of the door broke my speculations and I smacked my head trying to get up too fast before deciding under the bed was the safest place for me. Who knew what kind of mood the insane one would be in. Or if it was even him. Maybe Achaicus had come  back to expose me for hiding all this salt. I covered my ears and curled up tight. I wasn’t ready for a rematch, but he couldn’t walk into the room, at least. 

I waited, hidden until Nathaniel lifted the bed skirting and crouched before me. 

“Do I need to drag you out again?” He sighed.

I glared back, wide eyed until the annoyance caught up. “Where were you?” I demanded, crawling out of my own accord. 

Amusement danced in his eyes. “Why? Did you miss me?”

Rude bastard. “No,” I scowled, sitting back on the edge of the bed, holding my thigh out of reflex to mask my irritation. 

Nathaniel set a plate of food down beside me and his eyes drifted to my hand. “Does it hurt?”

“Do you have to be so nosey?”

“Let me see it.” He reached for me but I recoiled. 

“No! Don’t touch me!”

His eyes moved to mine. “Don’t be a brat.”

I slapped his hand away when he tried again. “You have no right, don’t touch me.” I repeated in low warning. I couldn’t let him see it. 

“I have every right,” he snorted, but moved away. “Remember whose room you’re in and by whose grace you’re allowed to be so insolent.”

All the bravado left me at once as I stared at this Fae man and remembered my place. He could throw me back into the drowning cell whenever he chose. My safety wasn’t permanent or real. This was just another tricky Fae playing to some tune I didn’t know. My father had always been right about these shallow creatures and I would have to play along if I wanted to be prepared for when Brigetta would come for me.

In the space of my silence, Nathaniel turned back. His unsmiling face stared down at me like I was dirt stuck to his shoe. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it that way… I meant, I wouldn’t hurt you. You can trust me to see it. You're safe with me.”

“Until you decide that I’m not,” I retorted under my breath.

He touched my face, tilting my chin up. “If I was going to hurt you, don’t you think I would have by now?”

I pulled out of his reach. “I liked you better when you were sick.”

“I wasn’t sick,” he said simply, letting me go without fighting it. “Eat.”

“You sure looked sick,” I muttered, although didn't hesitate to reach for the pastries. 

Nathaniel shrugged off his coat and pulled a book from the pile of mess on his desk. I waited for him to come to the bed, knowing that was where I’d hidden all the salt, but he perched on the couch in the living area. It was all I could do not to burst into a fit of laughter. I’d planned so well, and he circumvented me without even realizing it. Still, what would Achaicus think? How long would it take the salt to work?

“Eiríkr, come. Bring your food.” Nathaniel commanded without looking over from his seated position. 

With my heart suddenly in my throat, I followed the command only because I had no choice. Both these twins were assholes. 

I stood before him glaring down. “What do you want?” I demanded. 

He reached out to tug me closer, and I fell into his lap, almost spilling the plate of food. “You look stressed,” he commented, tucking a lock of my hair back. 

 I recoiled as best I could, giving a scowl. “Of course I’m stressed. I’m being held hostage by a Neanderthal.”

A handsome one, perhaps, but still an annoying one none the less. 

“You’re free to walk out the door whenever you choose. It’s not locked against you.” He countered with a mocking cadence. 

“They never make the pretty ones smart do they?” I returned his tone in kind. “There are hundreds of guards stationed out there that would strongly disagree with my departure.”

Nathaniel’s eyes narrowed with forbidding amusement. “I would also strongly disagree with your departure.”

“Then it stands to reason I'm not free to go.”

“No, you just won’t be very successful if you try.”

I scoffed. “You’re the dumbest person I’ve ever met.”

I moved to remove myself from his lap without waiting for his response. But he held me in place when I tried. 

“Stay.”

The order immobilised me and I stared back in disbelief. ‘Stay’ where? In his lap? Did he have some kind of fettish? He was putting in a lot of effort if he just wanted to fuck a Vanir. He could have just done it, if that was what he wanted, it’s not like I could stop him. But he hadn’t, and I couldn’t conceive any other reason for this other than just to mess with me. This was some twisted game to him I was sure.

His emerald green eyes sparkled with amusement and my heart stuttered. There was something different about him today. The lost look in his features was gone. This was a man who had made a decision about me, and I felt a stirring of anticipation as my mind went racing. Was this it then? Would he drop the act now?

Nathaniel tilted his head, examining me with reptilian delight. Cold, calculating—entertained. He held my jaw in his hand, squishing my cheeks as he turned my face back toward him. “I’d prefer if you sat with me while I read.”

“And If I refuse?”

“Your refusal will be declined.” He released his grip, and I resigned myself to the ridiculous farce.

I lay over his lap like a hunted deer over the back of a horse. Twisting and turning, readjusting every few moments. Two could play at stupid games.

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