A/N: As always, beta'd by the lovely Thecookiemomma.
It's not such a bad place, this. Yes, there are quite a few twists and turns, but it's more fun that way. It makes the chase more interesting when prey does happen to show up. Six hours after the Lord's little 'test', a jittery, fat man who smells of rat appeared. I hadn't eaten and he smelled as good as any…
The Lord nearly fell away from his desk laughing. I didn't realize my pinning the rat to the floor would be so entertaining for him. Strange beings these C'alu.
"No, Arikeir," he chided gently. "Loathe as I am to admit it, he is still useful to me." Turning to face this Lord I'd acquired, I snorted and curled my lip, the most incredulous look I could affect in this form. He appeared to understand, his smile growing before it faded again. "You may play with him, but no killing." I rumbled a low growl at the rat-man. "Yet."
So now, two days later, I follow the Lord's wishes. Which, to be fair, makes the entire business more fun. The poor vermin never knows if I mean to harm him or simply pounce. The fear he exudes is quite satisfying. The twisting turns and complex passages in his manor make for a challenging and thrilling hunting ground. I'm catching up without any real effort. I've been pursuing him for a little over an hour now and he is exhausted from his fear and flight from me. Rounding one final corner, I'm confident that he is mine now. I tense the muscles in my hind legs and my back, readying my body for the spring that will catch me this prey.
There!
Well… That'll teach me to leap before I look. I can just see the smirk on Rusk'ai's lips. Having flung myself into the air, I realize that the fat, sweaty man is cowering behind an enormous cobra, her hood flared out and absolutely stunning in her protective fury. As a matter of fact, only my admiration of her saved me, for instead of trying to abort the leap, I merely sailed over her head, landing gracefully on the other side of the rat—who, it seems, had changed himself into an actual rat during the time I was staring at the beautiful snake.
There are no serpents in my home. There are none left. All traces of their clan were wiped from this world in the last great wizard's battle, which took place long before any living wizard now was even born. The very last of their kind fled to my home and was given sanctuary to live out the rest of her days.
I met her before she died. It was the first time I can remember crying. Her markings, her beautiful skin…the cobra before me could easily be her daughter and watching her as I catch my breath, I feel a pang of sadness reverberate along the walls and passageways of my mind.
Jaguar, she begins in a sibilant tone that I find extremely pleasing to listen to. Why are you so sad? And in that instant, I know true hope. She can feel me, she can speak to me and she is the spitting image of Hess'ess'eth… Could she be?
I knew one once who was very much like you. It is a painful reminder. I watch her as she absorbs this, as she sways ever so gently back and forth. The longer I watch her, the more I realize that I can feel her too, her confusion and her deep thought as she works through what I said.
Your accent is horrendously thick, young one, but I suppose it is remarkable you understand me at all…She pauses then and for a long moment I am treated to the incredible ability of the snake to be absolutely still, watching me, gaining my measure. I am sorry for your loss, though I'm afraid I cannot apologize for what I am. This only further stirs hope within me, I can feel my claws extending and kneading the floor below me as adrenaline slowly pumps through my system.
You should never apologize for what you cannot or will not change. I repeat the words Aly'thae often chided me with in my early years with her. She seems just as amused as I am by it and I can't hold back any longer. Are you Chay'en then? Are you one of the Hes'sis'sekt? I can't hold the hope out of my voice and I think she hears that before she understands the words. There's a sharp inhalation of breath and all of the sudden, she is slithering closer, forked tongue flickering like mad as she tastes the air around me, tastes my scent, my being and my very aura.
No, I am not Chay'en, young one… But it appears you are. Somehow, she manages to sound both excited and sad. It is a trick of duality I think will always only belong to the serpents of the world. How did you come to be here, young Na'aru?
I was a…gift to the Lord from Lucius. She dips her head once in understanding. She knows of the Chay'en and yet is not one of us. Her knowledge of the name of my clan seems somehow to pale in comparison on the shock scale.
The Lord? You do not claim him as yours? Instead of insulted or accusatory, she sounds only curious, a fact which I use to violently silence the part of me that wishes to stuff her tail down her throat. Honestly.
I have no Lord and no Master. I will acknowledge that he is Lord of this place and these people because I can respect him, but beyond that I will offer nothing. He hasn't earned it yet.
For a long, long while she is silent and still. At first I attribute it to the difficulty she seems to have in understanding me—which is odd, since I can hear her perfectly well—but after a while it becomes obvious it is more than that. I'm starting to become concerned when I realize she is shaking. I don't sense any sort of violent anger from her, but I tense anyway, ready to fight or run.
Never take chances with an unfamiliar cobra.
Then I realize she's laughing. I can feel my jaw hanging open in a very C'alu demonstration of my pure shock. She continues to laugh, laugh until she has sunk to coils on the floor, until I turn to the rat for help and realize he isn't here any longer. Not that I blame him. I continue to watch her, hissing her sibilant joy and mirth. Finally, she speaks, her words coming short and broken up by bouts of laughter, but at least understandable.
He…he hasn't….has—hasn't earned it…earned it yet!
At least I know what's so funny. Now I'd like to know why.
Oh, oh little shadow, I like you! No one's had the guts to admit that in…thirty years at least. At this admission, I can't help but chuckle as well. It seems my…' guts' have amused quite a few here since I've arrived. Are the C'alu all so spineless as to make any self-respect a rarity? How sad.
I do believe I like you too. The Lord of this place has seen fit to call me Arikeir. What is your name? She eyes me shrewdly. Noticing perhaps that I offer her only the name I have been given here.
He calls me Nagini. Her voice, when she speaks of him, is fond; affectionate. We have been friends for a very long time. Now that is an interesting way to put it.
Friends? I inquire. He does not consider you a…pet then? She snorts—a very interesting sound to come from a cobra—and shakes her head.
I am the only one he trusts, Ariheir. The only soul he dares to care for. She starts to move past me and I turn to pad alongside her down the hallway. She continues, then and I feel a cloak of sadness fall over me like a sodden blanket. Whether it is hers or my own, I'm not sure. The ones who serve him…they believe in his ideals, they share his goals, some adore him in their own way, but they are C'alu and they are…limited. They hurt even the ones they most love and when most serve only out of fear… She heaves a serpentine sigh and turns to level a fierce glare on me, seeming to need no attention on the way she slithers. You were picked up from that Order's Headquarters… Her hood flares and for an instant I honestly believe she's about to kill me. If you hurt him, Ariheir, I swear you will dream of death before it comes.
I freely admit, her ferocity is beautiful to me and such avid devotion… When offered from such a creature, says a lot about the person who has that loyalty; that love. I promise you, Nagini, on the seven slips of Current, I mean no harm to your Master. I was found in their Headquarters only because that is where I landed while Crossing over. I hit a forceful current and it blew me off course. She seems to accept this and we continue on our way in silence.
Silence has always bothered me to some degree. In later years, it's gotten a bit worse as I've become accustomed to constant companionship of some sort. Now, there's a pregnancy to it and it makes my skin crawl. I find myself racing to find something, anything to say that will break the silence and end my torment.
My name is Arikeir, by the way. Not Ariheir.
Not entirely the brightest thing ever to come out of my mouth, but I suppose I could have said worse. She eyes me with an air of confusion that's nearly palpable.
That's what I said, Ariheir. Ari-heir. If I had hands in this form, I would have just smacked my forehead.
No, not Ariheir. Arikeir.
Exactly. As I said; Ariheir.
No, no, no. Not 'H', heir. K, like keir.
I hate to tell you this, kitten, but you just said the exact same thing. Twice.
I did not!
Did so.
Did not!
Did so.
Did not!
So.
Not!
So.
Not!
So.
Not! Oof!
Well, I suppose that's what I get for not watching where I was going, but really, it's not as if we were moving fast. It would have been nothing for this…pair of legs to move out of the way.
Legs.
Oh.
I see.
Sitting back on my haunches, I tilt my head to peer up into the face of the Lord of the Manor, Nagini slithering up his arm to drape herself elegantly about his shoulders; a living cloak.
Scaring my new pet already, Nagini? His voice is soft and warm, a far cry from what it had been the first and last time I had met him. For some reason, that shuts up my aggravating inner voice without my even having to try.
No, Tom. Just getting to know each other a little better… He chuckles at that, a sound I am growing familiar with.
Which, for you my dear, means scaring him senseless. Nagini snorts again, the sound just as odd to hear as the first time.
You know me too well, Tom. But this time, no. He doesn't scare easily, your Ariheir. I let loose a low growl and the Lord—Tom, apparently—turns wide eyes on me, though Nagini seems pleased. Besides, he's much more fun to nettle. Mostly because he bites back and has the brains to banter, which is a nice change…
He is also sitting right here. I hiss under my breath, grumbling to myself and lying down, since they seem in no hurry to go. If I'm to be discussed as if I wasn't here, I'll at least be comfortable while they do it.
There's a moment of silence as the Lord ever so slowly remembers to close his mouth. Fortunately for him, only Nagini and I bore witness to his lack of dignity and neither of us is in a position to tattle. Turning then to his serpentine friend, Lord Tom—oh I like the way that sounds—narrows his eyes. Convulsively, I swallow and when he turns and strides away from me, I know better than to follow.
Where's that rat? I'm starved.
'Ini dearest, did that cat just use Parsel?Amid hissing laughter, Nagini rubs her face against my cheek affectionately. I've finally managed to get her to a quiet and away place where we can talk without fear of interruption.
He did, Tom. Heaving a sigh, I bend to allow Nagini to slither down my arm and onto the soft rug in front of the fire where she'll be most comfortable. I love this room. Only Nagini and I can enter here, it's the only place I can feel truly safe—even in my own home.
Why can I not understand what he says then? This fact is very disconcerting to me. It is horridly unbalancing to suddenly not understand a language you've been able to speak since early childhood. I suppose it's made worse by the fact that I knew he was speaking it, just not what was being said.
I suppose, to myself, I can admit that it sparked a flame of fear in my chest. To lose the ability to understand the serpents would mean losing the only real friend I've ever had.
Tom, dear. You're not stupid. What is he? Feeling faintly annoyed at her chiding, I send her my best Voldemort Scowl. She—as I knew she would be—is unaffected by it. It's a sad, sad day when a snake can withstand my glare better than any of my followers. Still, I consider her question. She's done this for as long as I can remember. She never likes to give me a straight answer, only vague hints so that I come up with the solution myself.
A cat! I exclaim, face lifting as I feel a triumphant grin tug at my lips. Of course! Their speech is underdeveloped in that aspect. They cannot use the sibilant sounds, so they utilize the guttural 'h'! Thrilled by this idea, I don't rein in my rabbit-trails as quickly as I should. I even find myself beginning to become excited about this; something new and fascinating. But as ever, my natural self-preservation kicks in and I suffer a moment of an intense emotion rather similar to panic.But why does he speak it at all? It's not panic of course.
Dark Lords do not panic.
For the same reason that Wormtail understands us when he is a rat, Tom. I don't even pretend to know where she's going with this.
Understanding and speaking are two very different things, 'Ini. The snake lets out a long and exasperated hiss. I swear if she could, her eyes would be rolling at this very moment. Damn cobra.
What did you just say, Tom? Underdeveloped speech. Vocal chords. Wormtail's aren't shaped for the appropriate sounds. He cannot use the words his anatomy doesn't allow him to shape. I can understand Wormtail when he chitters and twitches, but you cannot, because you have only our tongue. She pauses and eyes me critically. The feline 'dialect'—if you will—is close enough to ours that you recognize it, even if you can't understand. Actually… She turns to the door and hisses her command to open them. I can't believe my eyes.
There, sitting quite patiently outside the doors, is Arikeir; the very topic of our discussion. Nagini… I begin dangerously. Do I want to know how he found us?
Nope. Damn snake. Heaving a sigh, I nod to the beast, who stands and pads into the room. I'm not sure—it happened so fast—but it appeared there for a moment that he shivered as the doors closed behind him. Perhaps it was just a trick of the light. That must be it.
"Come here, beast. I won't hurt you." He snorts at this but steps closer, coming to sprawl on the rug between myself and Nagini, who seems intent upon following through with her last train of thought.
Say something, kitten. For a moment I can only stare in blank shock at the cobra sprawled near the panther.
Kitten?
Really?
A hand rises to cover my mouth as I borrow a leaf from young Draco's book and cough lightly to cover up a snicker at such a putrid endearment. It doesn't fool the beast, who even now is glaring at me in a passable imitation of my own furious gaze. I must admit to being impressed.
Hehh'aath ek rel? The beast speaks and I still cannot understand the words. But, if I relax and just let the words flow over me without resisting, without over-analyzing, I find that I get a general idea of what was just said.
Why do I have the feeling I was just insulted? I wonder aloud, my tone just as dry as Arikeir's had been and the beast starts snarling at me. I'll admit it does startle me. From the being who forced me to lower my gaze and in the same breath conceded me my throne, I had not expected such a blatant challenge. Suppose that's what I get for trusting him, even just that little bit. I realize that I've tensed, hand hovering and ready to strike, but he doesn't move, doesn't even seem tense, his tail flicking lazily to and fro. Slowly it dawns on me that he's not snarling, he's smiling at me, in his own way. I can't help myself; I grin right back, ridiculously happy that there is no reason to kill the beast. Yet.
Nagini seems inordinately pleased with herself.
Probably because you were, and quite adeptly. Let's hold onto this one, Tom. He's funny. I raise one incredulous eyebrow in her direction, a sound of dry amusement escaping my lips. It was not a snort, but does convey similar emotions.
Dark Lords do not snort.
You only say that because no one else has the nerve to insult me, I return with a knowing smirk. I have never before seen a cobra blink innocently. I hope to never see it again. Any other besides Nagini and I would be lucky to escape with my life. It's so intrinsically wrong to see that expression on a predator as deadly as she and I snap a little, coughing violently in an attempt to cover my laughter. I've always hated my laugh. It sounds so…undignified. Arikeir doesn't manage nearly so well, rolling to his back as his sides shake with a rumbling sound that could never be mistaken for anything but laughter.
Throwing my hands up into the air, I heave a put-upon sigh and shake my head, though I fear my eyes may have softened. Oh well, nothing to be done for it now. Come on you vicious little viper, let's feed the beast before Wormtail gives himself a heart attack. I shudder and Arikeir stands and stretches in that manner of his that makes the hairs on the nape of my neck stand on end. I catch my beloved viper watching me out of the corner of my eye. I very much do not relish the thought of coming across his rotting carcass somewhere unfortunate.
Nagini seems inordinately pleased.