AN: Again on messing with Nephamael's character. The whole thing with him and women is happening because in my opinion, he's too much of a whore to have one sexual preference. And you're lucky I'm giving you this today instead of making you wait for it, but I didn't want to.
Nephamael danced among the revelers, drunk on sickeningly sweet faerie wine that must have the blood of something in it, teeth stained red with it, flesh thirsting for the sweat of another. Perhaps he would assume the role of Death tonight, and pay someone a visit. He slipped gracefully through the assembled throng, hunting for the perfect victim. He barely felt the delicate glass he'd been holding slip carelessly from his hand, landing with a satisfying shattering sound to crunch under the thick soles of his heavy boots.
There were so many open, wet mouths, warm bodies both male and female, pounding hearts, hands brushing against him, that it made him even more lightheaded than he already was. He staggered back, disoriented for a moment, lost in the clamor of chaotic merriment. Yes, they were all lost. Hopelessly, helplessly lost.
The fear that flickered in their eyes as he passed empowered him. The tension hung thickly in the air: Who would be the one selected to entertain his desires? Some of them craved his sadistic affections, but he would not indulge them. He would feast on fear as well as blood tonight.
He stopped abruptly. his cruel yellow eyes locking with silver ones. Her features were fine and strikingly fair, with her skin that was nearly as white as his, and long hair that was even whiter. She certainly didn't look like any creature of the Unseelie Court that he had ever seen, but she certainly looked familiar. She appeared to trap light, while he seemed to devour it. How ironic: He planned to devour her.
For a moment he pondered what one could do with that hair. Many appealing things, surely. Perhaps he could keep her and make it into a leash or some such thing. Or maybe he could just choke her with it; that would be fun.
She attempted to bolt, but he caught her by the shoulders and pulled her toward him, his grip firm, unmerciful. He kissed her aggressively, pressing his slender, muscular body up against hers, one hand holding her to him by the back of her neck, the other around her waist. He bit her lip hard enough to draw blood, which he sucked away hurriedly. He released a low, silky purr that was either indicative of impatient desire or satisfaction. Suddenly, he became surprisingly gentle, his kisses becoming deeper, softer, his hands roaming slowly over her body.
He snatched a handful of her hair and pulled her head back, exposing her neck, which he then began to bite--not very hard, but hard enough. He stopped for a moment, to whisper breathlessly against her skin.
"So innocent…Whatever are you doing in a place such as this?" Though he had loosened his hold on her slightly, she remained frozen, paralyzed with fear.
"Are you going to kill me?" she asked, sounding surprisingly calm and accepting.
He laughed: a cruelly, playful sound. "That depends," he replied, his voice both rough and silky at once. "Did you come here to die?" He released her hair, but tightened his hold on her, though that no longer seemed necessary.
"Yes," she responded, making a valiant effort to look dignified.
He pulled back, and after a moment of just looking at her, smirked. "In that case, I will not."
Why?" She sounded indignant, as if she had been cheated of something.
He grinned wickedly, the expression attractive but frightening. "Because I wish to cause you pain," he answered bluntly. "It would hardly be enjoyable if I did not. There would be no point."
She shuddered; her reaction pleased him. Suddenly, he was able to recall where he had seen her: in the Seelie Court; she belonged to the Queen. He remembered seeing another pretty one that looked like her--one of Silarial's knights. Her brother, perhaps?
"Come," he commanded, taking a long silvery lock of her hair and pulling her after him with it toward a surface he could press her against. Enough small talk. He would have his way with her now.
"Release the girl, Nephamael." Or maybe not. "Nicnevin wishes to speak with you immediately. She specified that I was to make it quite clear that the matter is urgent."
Nephamael sighed, irritated to be interrupted this way, before he had barely begun. He wanted to tell the other knight to advise Nicnevin to do something especially unpleasant, but refrained from doing so, as that would hardly accomplish anything other than misfortune on his part.
"Fine." He wondered what this "urgent matter" was. Most likely something trivial. She tended to do that. But something about the other knight's tone told him that this was a truly critical concern.
As much as he regretted doing so, he released the girl and hastily made his way through the crowd, who now parted easily for him, to Nicnevin, kneeling before her to kiss the hem of her blood red gown, his dark hair gathering on the ground.
"Rise, Nephamael."
He did so easily, meeting her gaze without bothering to mask the look of annoyed impatience on his face. She laughed at that. "Interrupt something, did I? No matter; I think you will enjoy the task I am about to set you to." She would kill others for what he had just dared to do, but she favored him and let him get away with more than she would others. Rumor had it that they were lovers, and there was some truth to this, although they held no genuine attachment to one another. They would have their occasional dalliances, of course, but nothing more than that.
"But I am afraid that there is less desirable news I must convey to you beforehand. You are aware that my sister has been more willing to make negotiations recently. After much debate, we have come to the agreement that you are to come into her service, and she will send one of her most faithful knights to me." She paused for a moment and smiled, looking threateningly amused at something unbeknownst to him.
"He wishes to be her consort, the wretched fool. He is quite pretty though, and deeply devoted to her. But back to the matter at hand..
"I know how deeply you despise the Seelie Court, but I am sure that if you are persuasive enough, she will allow you to return here often. And I know just how persuasive you can be, Nephamael." Her voice grew low and suggestive as she made to prevent his displeasure with flirtation.
"But not persuasive enough, I'm afraid, to talk me out of this decision," she finished promptly, before he got the wrong idea. Surprisingly enough, he had managed to talk her out of (and into) things before, and he was usually even capable of influencing her judgment in matters of the Court if he so wished. She would not have allowed this from any of her other knights, but, as usual, Nephamael was the exception.
He scowled darkly at this, but then carefully relaxed his expression into neutrality, replying smoothly with "Of course, my lady. You know I live to serve you." He couldn't keep the bite of sarcasm out of his voice, nor the mischievous smirk from alighting on his face. He had his own plans--plans that didn't necessarily correspond with her own.