Dark: This is my version of Niall and Irial. It starts before Wicked Lovely and will end sometime after Darkest Mercy. Rated M for things to come, since the gancanaghs do share a 'complicated and romantic' history.
Sadly, I don't own Marr's story (aside from the book permanently residing at the foot of my bed). However, since it is such a beautiful tale, I tried to follow it as much as possible. So enjoy.
The girl was weeping, clutching Niall's arm, when the dark-haired faery approached. The girl had bared herself when she entered the woods and had innumerable scratches on her flesh.
"She's an affectionate thing," the faery said.
Niall shook her off again. "She's been drinking, I suspect. She wasn't so" -he grabbed her hand as she began unfastening his breeches- "aggressive last week."
"Indeed." The dark-haired faery laughed. "Like animals, aren't they?"
"Mortals?" Niall stepped closer to him, dodging the girl's agile hands. "They seem to hide it well enough at first... They change, though."
The other faery laughed and caught the girl up in his arms. "Maybe you're just irresistible."
Niall straightened his clothes now that the girl was contained. She stayed motionless in the other faery's grasp, looking from one to the other like she was insensible.
The dark-haired faery watched Naill with a curious grin. "I'm Irial. Perhaps we could take this one somewhere less" -he looked up the path toward the mortals' town- "public." The lascivious look on Irial's face was the most enticing thing Niall had ever seen. He had a brief flash of terror at his tangled mix of feelings. Then Irial licked his lips and laughed. "Come on, Niall. I think you could use a bit of company, couldn't you?"
Niall:
They left the mortal girl, who had finally collapsed in a 'drunken fit,' at the town's brothel, where she was welcomed by the Mistress like a sister.
"It wouldn't hurt to stay, would it, darlings?" Her hand ran down her exposed cleavage then along her waist as she moved un-tastefully closer to Niall.
"Another time, perhaps." Irial placed a light kiss upon her overtly reddened cheek and lead Niall back into the woods.
While they walked, Niall took in careful notice of how the other faery look; tall and lean, with skin so tanned it seemed dark. His hair was dark, seemingly wild but contained just enough as to not cause problems. But most striking were his blue-black eyes, swirling like an endless abyss.
And if looked at ever so slightly out of the corner of an eye; one could see wisps of shadows clinging to him as he moved.
Irial stopped under an ancient oak, dead in winter's embrace, thriving in summer's. The tree seemed to be both at once. Its leaves fell and withered to the ground, only to be quickly replaced by new buds at random. The tree was in a constant flow, balance.
"What is it?" Niall pondered out loud as he pressed his palm against the bark, cold and hot in intervals.
"Sorcha's. Her puppet-brother planted it her long ago," Irial pulled a long and thin pipe from his pocket and lit it, "At her request, of course."
Although it was another question that was on Niall's mind, he allowed himself to be distracted by the tree, "Her puppet-brother?"
"Devlin, I believe. The High Queen controls his every movement, and has a nasty habit of stealing fey and half-lings from the other courts." Irial grimaced at the thought as he smoked.
"So why are we here then?" Still not the right question, but close. Who are you? The words lingered on his tongue.
"I said you needed company, and the place is quite the place. Besides, it was about time you let go of the harlot who was clinging to so desperately, gancanagh."
"Pardon?" Niall noticed the curious look in Irial's eyes. "Gancanagh? I'm afraid you've lost me yet again."
A strange smile formed on Irial upturned lips, "Gancanagh, of the Irish fey. One the Dark Court's more... intriguing kinds."
Niall shook his head, "I'm not Irish, nor a court fey."
Irial:
For now. Irial thought. He laughed softly as he smoked. "Would you like to be?"
Niall, at the very least, looked stunned. Under the surface, Irial tasted a splash of desire and longing. The faery ran a hand through his dark brown hair, attempting to grasp the question. The tang of fear mixed with realization filled the heavy air.
"Who are you?" Niall questioned, almost backing up in reverence.
"I think you know the answer to that already, gancanagh." Irial took a step closer to the other faery, smoke filling his breath. Niall flinched back, most fey couldn't stand the stuff. "I'll give you a hint; I, too, am one of the unseelie."
"Dark Court." Niall's recognition of the world flashed briefly through his eyes. "You're... a Dark fey."
"Close, Niall," Irial closed the small distance between them, and then whispered into the faery's ear, "but there's more than that."
Niall's desire to push Irial away was almost palpable, but even solitary fey knew the dangers of that. Rumors of the Dark Court had also reached Niall's ears, Irial knew, and that would freeze most fey to have that knowledge with him so close.
"What does the Dark King want with me?" Niall backed up into the Changing Tree.
"I already told you, gancanaghes are dark fey. I want you to join my- no, our court." Irial backed off, giving the fey more distance. Inhaling a large amount of smoke, he looked up at the sky. The setting sun had made the shadows clinging to him almost tangible. His ethereal wings began to form. "I don't believe you need to decide now, but do consider my request, Niall."
With that, the shadow-made faery sauntered off into the thick trees.
Dark:Thank you for reading, the next chapter will (hopefully) be up in a couple of days. Reviews keep me going, so leave me a note.