So here's chapter 2. It's been haunting me all day, asking to be written, so here it is. It's Irial's POV, so I hope you like it. I'm still indecisive about the length of the story, but it will at least be 3 chapters. This chapter has some M rated things, so take heed. Enjoy! Thanks for the REVIEWS and please continue reviewing!

Melissa Marr own Wicked Lovely!

Irial could smell flowers. Heathers and roses and holly trees. He could sense the warm summer breeze blowing through his hair. See a grassy knoll and an even greener plain that stretched for miles. The sky was alight with clouds peeking over the horizon. Sunlight bathed his skin.

In that moment, he felt warm, cozy, at peace; everything he hadn't been in the days since he'd fallen ill. At least when he'd been awake. Here, in his dreams- Niall's dreams- he was almost free. His strength was still depleted, but he felt less weak than he did in reality. And that was an improvement at least.

The dreamscape was the product of his mind and of Niall's. Memories from long ago, forgotten or stowed away painted the scenery in which they lived. Sometimes eras were mixed as thoughts intertwined, creating a world uniquely their own. Currently, Irial was imagining a memory from very long ago, a grassy field in northern Scotland where he and Niall spent their time gazing at the sky. There was a distant castle somewhere in sight, though its stonewashed walls did not detract from the beauty of the landscape; they enhanced it.

Irial inhaled the fresh air, his lungs relishing the gust of sweet wind as it swept his hair. He lifted his face towards the sky, staring past the clouds, thinking of the place mortals called heaven, and considered where he would end up when he was gone. But seeing as fey didn't have afterlives, he knew the choice wouldn't be his to make.

Not that I'd go there anyway, he thought. Irial did not view himself as evil, nor did he see himself as saintly, but he had a feeling that places such as heaven did not welcome his sort, which comforted him to an extent. I don't need pity.

The sound of approaching footsteps discontinued is morbid thoughts and made him look to the space of greenery before him. His King was walking towards him, the long strands of grass brushing his knees.

In the golden sunlight, it was almost easy to forget that Niall was the Dark King. His mahogany locks fell haphazardly along his handsome face, the sun illuminating the red and copper tones of his hair. Niall also appeared to be faintly glowing, despite the shadows that still clung to him in the dreamworld. In all his glory, he was beautiful to Irial. He always had been. Inside and out.

So it pained Irial to see the sadness in his eyes as they met in the grassy field, his face somber even in his dreams.

Irial stepped up to his King, a hand outstretched to touch him. With a sad smile, Niall accepted, his grip firm despite his wavering emotions. Then they proceeded to walk through the field, the grass swaying all around them with each step.

"This is a nice memory", he murmured to Irial, stopping to admire the brook he spotted just beyond the trees. "I remember lying here beneath the moonlight. My hair always got entangled with grass", he noted with a small laugh.

Irial smiled back at him. "Yes, indeed it did."

Niall stopped walking then, his face suddenly serious. "What made you choose it?"

Irial walked over to a nearby heather bush and snagged a flower. He rolled the pink bud in his palm. "Because it reminds me of you, of the happiness we've shared over the years. This was one of your favorite places, if I recall."

Niall nodded. "It was. It still is."

Irial grinned. "Then I was just in choosing it." He approached Niall, his eyes warm as he ran a finger along his cheek. Niall opened his mouth to say something, but Irial brushed his lips against his for reassurance. "I only want you to be happy."

Niall pulled away from him, his brows pulled together. "Don't say things like that, Iri."

Irial frowned. "Why not? It's how I feel."

"But you shouldn't feel that way. You're sick, Irial, not me. You should put your own happiness about all else. Not mine." The pained look in Niall's eyes made Irial falter.

He clasped Niall's hand again, his eyes sincere as he said, "You are my King, Niall. My friend. My beloved. How can I not put you first?"

There was a moment of silence in which Niall refused to meet Irial's gaze, and then the words that escaped his lips where barely a whisper. "I can't lose you."

This was what Irial had feared; Niall's dependence on him would weaken his King and their Court. And no one needs that when I'm gone. Irial's expression was stern as he fought though the pain in his words. "You need to let me go, Gancanagh. You'll hurt less if-"

"No", Niall snarled, his eyes alight with anger. "I will not sentence you to an early deathbed."

"I can't recover, Niall. Please, see that." The blunt words he'd spoken were hard to admit- even to myself- but they needed to be said. Niall was too stubborn to comprehend anything else.

The grief that washed over Niall's face at that moment, however, made Irial regret speaking the truth aloud. His King abruptly turned away from him, his jaw taut. Irial saw his eyes brim with dark tears that he refused to spill. "I won't accept that", he hissed, his voice shaking. "I can't accept that."

Despite the leg pain that walking incited, Irial approached his King with saddened eyes, his hand gripping his forearm. "But you must. If you don't you'll never be at ease. Nor will the Court."

Suddenly Niall spun around, shrugging off Irial's hand with a glower. "I'm done talking about this."

Irial glowered back at him, all softness gone. "I'm not. And neither are we." For a long while the two of them glared at one another in a silent standoff, Niall's emotional cocktail of hurt and grief burning Irial to his core, flooding him. The tense atmosphere was only broken when Irial had to sit and rest, the pain from the poison weakening him and making it hard to stand. Niall caught Irial as he staggered backwards, his hands firm but gentle as he laid him down onto the soft grass.

After a moment, Niall took rest beside him on the ground, staring up at the cloudy sky, his eyes vacant. Irial rolled onto his hip, watching the bleak expression on his King's face, wanting to smooth the harsh lines. Instead, he ran his fingers through Niall's soft hair, running his hand along his stern jawline and angelic features, ghosting along his scar. Niall finally turned his head in Irial's direction, his still sad eyes warming slightly as he met Irial's gaze.

Turning on his hip, Niall fully faced Irial, his finger tracing over Irial's eyelids and mouth as Irial had done to him moments ago. Except Irial saw fear in Niall's face as Niall touched him, as if this touch would be his last. As if he might lose me tomorrow.

Caressing Niall's arm, Irial whispered, "No matter what happens, you'll never lose me, Gancanagh. I will always be a part of you." Intertwining their fingers, Irial moved closer to Niall, his lips running along his King's throat. "You were always mine. And I yours."

Niall hesitantly caught Irial's lips in his own, his thumb running along his cheek as they consumed each other. Niall's eyes misted with unshed tears as he tasted Irial's lips, and Irial pretended not to notice.

Niall began to gently run his fingers along the bottom Irial's shirt, his hand teasing the warm skin underneath. Then Irial gasped as Niall's hand traveled lower, quickly undoing the buckle of his trousers, slipping to the hot, aching skin below. Irial moaned complacently as Niall stroked him, Niall's mouth on his throat.

Niall stopped to gently slide Irial's shirt from his shoulders, making sure not to graze the dark wound that rested on his stomach. Niall's lips lightly left kisses along his body, licking a subtle path from his chest to his hips, where he proceeded to take Irial whole, the slick friction of his mouth making Irial numb with pleasure.

Irial felt his hips buck, his body hot with the promise of release as Niall pleasured him thusly. He bit his lip as Niall took him deeper, his hand and his mouth working as one to make Irial arch his back in pleasure. With shaky fingers he rubbed Niall's hair for support, the breathy gasp he let out echoing in his ears. With one more stroke from Niall's hand, Irial felt himself coming, his body tensing for release. In that instant, euphoria washed over him like fresh rain, his breathing labored and indistinct. The cool grass tickled his hot skin.

Afterwards, Niall completely removed Irial's pants, then proceeded to remove his own clothes, his eyes thick with lust. He fervently tasted Irial's lips again, his body lowering on top of Irial's with a grace that Irial admired. Niall quickly grabbed one of Irial's thighs in his hand and hitched it higher up his waist, their hips pressed together. The breathy gasps Niall made as they moved together made Irial yearn for the past, when they would pleasure one another in every way they knew how.

Finally, Niall broke away from the kiss, pulling his head back to look at his former King. "Are you sure?" he panted, his breaths uneven.

Irial nodded, his eyes clouded over with lust as Niall kissed his neck. "Yes."

Then, with a strained effort, Niall pushed himself inside of his former King, a cry escaping them both. As Irial adjusted to Niall's girth, he was reminded of how well endowed his Gancanagh was, and despite the slight pain in his body, he felt even hungrier for him now. I'll never forget this feeling, he thought as Niall began to move deep inside of him.

The moan that escaped him wracked his body, his vision blurring as he gazed into Niall's abyss-like eyes, as he observed the blue sky and grass all around them. The world began to shift according to his mind then; the clouds dissipated, the sky darkened to night, a star-covered realm shone overhead, bathing them both in moonlight.

Niall's rhythm was perfection, hitting every white spot inside of him, removing all of his fears and worries, opening him for Niall to see clearly. And when Niall embraced him, pulling him closer for their mouths to meet, Irial felt one with his King. With each thrust, Irial was closer to heaven, closer to euphoria, closer to Niall. He bared all he was feeling; regret, sorrow, love, admiration. He didn't want to hide any part of himself from his King, his beloved. Who, with apt determination, was had taken care of him this past week more than anyone ever had in all his existence.

Staring into Niall's eyes, Irial's body was on fire. With each movement, he was losing his grip on the dreamscape around them. And as Niall quickened his thrusts, the world spun. Irial let out a mewl as pleasure overtook him.

"Ahh… My King", he cried, his back arching slightly.

With a throaty moan, Niall reclaimed his lips again, his tempo increasing until Irial was squeezing his back and Niall was gripping Irial's thigh. "Iri", he breathed.

Then the world suddenly went black as an orgasm rippled through them both, a cry escaping their lips in unison.

For a time immeasurable they just held one another, the effects of what they'd just done still reverberating through them. Then Niall pulled away slightly, small pants escaping him as he lay on the grass, staring at the shining stars. Moments later, Irial pulled him to his body, Niall's head resting on Irial's shoulder, arms around his waist. They held each other as closely as they were able.

As Niall stared up at the stars, his breaths slow, it became abundantly clear to Irial why Niall feared Irial's passing, why he would give anything he could to prevent it; Irial was Niall's other half, despite their differences. And Irial knew it. Were I in his position, I'd feel the same way.

Instead of dwelling on the inevitable, Irial stroked his Gancanagh's hair and gazed at the stars with him. I'll always be with you, he willed to Niall, even though his King couldn't hear. Never forget that.

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