April: Part Two

There is no disguise which can hide love for long where it exists, or simulate it where it does not.
Francois de La Rochefoucauld

…

Sorcha settled herself back on the couch and Eric took her hand before she began.

"No-one knows how I came to exist. Demons have problems enough mating with humans; they are not compatible reproductively with other species. Yet here I am. My mother believed there was something innate, in her own and Memnon's primal essences, that allowed it. She of the land, and he of the stone."

Eric remembered her true surname. "Petrides. Petra, rock. This means something?"

"I cannot tell you demon secrets."

Eric slitted his eyes thoughtfully. "I have known ancient demons. I might guess their family names indicate … elements?"

Her only reply was a smile. She continued, "When I was young, my mother said the strength of their love birthed me. A little fanciful, but it had a grain of truth. A fae woman's fertility increases with her happiness and the – the fae word translates as resonance, but has no exact equivalent – the harmony of the pairing would be close to the concept.

"And Aideen and Memnon certainly filled each other with joy. When they first met they had, by all accounts, an intense affair. No-one was more shocked than Aideen when Memnon's seed found fertile ground in her belly. Memnon had returned to Dae and she had no way of reaching him. But, unable to bear their separation, he returned to seek her out and was amazed to find her swollen with his child. He called me a gift from the gods of chance. The pregnancy was difficult, but we both survived. Aideen made a home for us in this realm and we were content. Until I began to grow into womanhood."

Sensing her hesitancy, Eric began to stroke her palm with his thumb.

"I was an even-tempered child." She felt his flash of amusement. "Hard to imagine now, I know. I became volatile, temperamental. The transformation horrified my parents. Believing they had overindulged me, they became authoritarian. I thought them draconian tyrants. Selfish and immature, I fought all their attempts to discipline me. After a particularly vicious argument, so trivial I no longer remember the root of it, Memnon scolded me harshly and I resolved to run away. I was barely fifteen, completely unprepared to be out in the world alone.

"I didn't get far. A strange delirium overcame me; strange and inexplicable because I had never been ill. Aideen found me, took me home and nursed me. After the fever broke, I was sullen, mistrustful. I accused her of poisoning and imprisoning me." She shrugged sheepishly. "I was a bitch. My sharp tongue hit its mark many times that year, and I wounded my parents deeply during my fits of temper and wild moods. The fever returned at unpredictable intervals, slowly sapping my strength. By sixteen, I was fading. Memnon and Aideen were desperate."

She was lost in her past, her eyes unfocused. Eric asked quietly, "What was it that ailed you?"

She focused on him. "There is no other hybrid like me for a reason. Fae and demon essences are discordant. The magicks within me were in turmoil, unbalanced. Demons do not quicken as the fae do – fae magic manifests as the body takes its adult form, at what humans call puberty – demons grow into their powers gradually, as vampires do. My fae magic was emerging fitfully, fighting the alien energy within me. But the demon essence was years strong, strong enough to defend itself. The struggle was tearing me apart.

"Aideen had a healer examine me. After he left, my mother had such grief on her face and Memnon was angry. They argued. I had never heard them argue. I realised they feared for my life, and I became afraid too. No-one knew if balancing the two essences was possible, but Aideen pinned her hopes on it. She explained, through her tears, that I had one chance, a slim one at that. I had to get to the Realm. My fae magic would strengthen there and I could learn to control it, calm it so it didn't inflame my demon side. But there was a problem."

"The journey?"

"Ireland is littered with portals, getting to one was easy. Passing through it ..."

"Your demon blood?" Eric knew little of the relationship between the two secretive races, but he doubted the fae welcomed demons into their homeland with open arms.

"Not exactly, although that hardly weighed in my favour. Anyone whose fae blood is not too diluted can enter the Realm and survive there, but those who aren't full fae must have permission."

"Ah. Politics?"

"Yes. Rogan met us at the portal."

"The prince himself." Niall's elder brother had been a hard-nosed leader.

"Yes. Even in my weakened state I was impressed by his entourage. Fortunately, Aideen had dressed me in my finest clothes." Sorcha smiled ruefully. "We fae are vain, we like to look our best to be insulted."

Eric's jaw tightened. "Because you are not sky fae."

"There was more to it, but yes, my mother's clan was part of it. It was a tense meeting. Memnon impressed upon Rogan the consequences of turning me away to die. Hackles rose; fae do not take kindly to interference by outsiders. Memnon did not care. Fiercely protective of me and as proud as any fae, he was quite prepared to threaten Rogan for my life."

Eric approved, thinking of Inga.

"I did not know until then, but my father was ready to give up everything he held dearest to save me. He wanted Aideen to go with me, with no guarantee that either of us would return. His devotion touched me deeply." She sighed. "He didn't have to face that. Rogan exiled Aideen from the Realm permanently."

Eric blinked in surprise. That was a harsh judgement for a mother with a dying child, even for Rogan. "What reason did he have?"

Her face hardened. "A painful one. Rogan, with spiteful words, revealed that my mother could bear no more children for the fae. Aideen wept openly. Carrying me had left her barren."

"Fertility was a problem, even then?" Eric asked in surprise.

"No. Rogan had other reasons for his cruel decision. And another shock for me: Aideen had been betrothed before she met Memnon, to a sky fae of the Speirling clan."

Eric repeated, "Spayr-ling?"

"Thunderstorm. Aideen was betrothed as a child by our clan, Crannruadh, but she was rebellious and curious. She left to explore the human world. That was not so unusual; such a betrothal must be honoured by the age of fifty and wanderlust in younger fae was tolerated. Fae lifespans allow for multiple pairings, thus most marriages are practical rather than romantic, made to cement alliances or produce offspring. Aideen's was for the latter purpose. After my birth she could not fulfil it. It was something of a scandal. Crannruadh washed their hands of her."

"Why? Fae value their kin."

"Politics," she said with distaste. "Not that I knew the details until much later, too late. Crannruadh stood to gain status and influence by my mother's match, and when it failed they were indebted to Speirling. Speirling is a powerful clan, famed for its fierce warriors. Our women have a reputation for fertility and Speirling needed to replenish their numbers after the long conflict that unified the fae and brought Rogan's father to the throne."

"Rogan owed them."

"Yes. Rogan could not upset his allies by allowing Aideen into fae. At the time, many fae considered it distasteful to pollute the race with lesser blood and demons were out of favour after a conflict a century earlier. Aideen choosing Memnon over one of their own was a great insult to Speirling. Carrying a demon's child was a known risk to fertility, so it was argued that Aideen had deliberately broken the betrothal. Rogan ruled Aideen at fault and exiled her as punishment. She expected it, but Memnon convinced her to appeal to Rogan."

"Rogan let you in?"

"Yes." Her eyes flashed with anger. "He examined me like a prize heifer, humiliating me in front of his people. He said he could see my potential despite my tainted blood."

Eric hissed softly.

"Rogan gave me a moment to say goodbye," she said, with pain in her eyes.

Eric began to rub his thumb over her knuckles again. His touch might not soothe magically as hers did, but he hoped to comfort her regardless.

"My mother held me close, muffling her sobs. Memnon looked me in the eye and told me in demon tongue to make him proud. Then he embraced me, whispering that he would not be whole again until I returned." Sorcha brushed away a tear. "I was overwhelmed. With hindsight, I was feeling Memnon's anguish as well as my own. He was devastated."

"Your empathy?"

She nodded. "As I was half-dae the ability developed slowly, only giving me a subconscious intuition of what others felt until that day when I felt Memnon's heartache directly. When I was a small child, Aideen had noticed I was unusually perceptive around the humans we met. Memnon spoke to me of demon abilities once I was old enough. There was empathy in his line, so he began teaching me to recognise my own emotions so I would have some inkling of how to read what I sensed from others, but that was interrupted by my illness. Once I entered the Realm my demon nature was muted, either by the place itself or the tonics I was given to fortify my fae side. My empathy did not manifest again for some years."

Eric narrowed his eyes. "You were blind in enemy territory."

She smiled half-heartedly. "Enemy to you, but not to me. Not then. They were family, family I was curious to meet. Rogan handed me over to my uncle, Aideen's older brother. Fearghal took me to the home he shared with his wife Erin and their twin daughters. Despite the tonic he gave me, my fever returned with a vengeance. Erin guessed that the loss of my parents had triggered it and that close contact with my blood kin would help. She laid my infant cousins beside me and the fever receded."

"Did your uncle welcome your presence?"

Sorcha opened her mouth and then hesitated. She looked down at their entwined hands. "I thought so. Erin was quiet and kept herself to herself, but I adored my little cousins, Una and Cara. Fearghal was charming and kind. With his red hair and freckles, he reminded me of my mother."

"You missed her. You were unhappy."

She gave him a crooked smile and shook her head. "Oh no, I was happy. I was young and resilient, and it is not my nature to grieve overlong. Besides, my relationship with my parents had been so fraught that I appreciated Fearghal's peaceful household. I was content with my newfound family."

Eric thought of Inga again. "You didn't miss Memnon?"

"My cousins loved me unconditionally, and I them." She stroked his hand, giving him a buzz of her energy. "You feel that? To be close to kin is somewhat addicting to fae."

"I see."

"Once I recovered my strength, Fearghal began teaching me to control my fae magic." She smiled. "We share the same quick temper. I wasn't an easy pupil and he was impatient with me until he discovered I had a rare talent – healing, like my mother. Fearghal was pleased. And so was Aideen."

"You saw her?"

"No. We wrote, relying on the kindness of fae passing between the realms to courier our precious letters. Precious as they were few and soon ended." Seeing his eyebrow twitch, she elaborated. "My mother's letters stopped when I was eighteen. When I pestered Fearghal for news of her, he was evasive. I thought he was protecting me."

"From what?"

Her green eyes filled with tears. "From what I feared most: that I was forgotten, abandoned. Oh, I know," she waved his disbelief aside, "it was a ridiculous childish fear. But I was sure Aideen was happy without me. I had spoken many cruel words to her, words that seemed unforgiveable once I knew what she lost in birthing me."

"That was not your fault."

"No, but I was still a child at heart and I felt it was. That guilt made it easy to believe Aideen had deliberately broken off contact. Fearghal suggested that my parents had cut me loose to make a new life for myself, knowing I was where I belonged, with my people."

Eric narrowed his eyes at her bitter sarcasm. "Your uncle deceived you."

"Yes. Aideen's letters were returned and she was told I had refused them. Believable, given the angry spiteful creature I had become, but she didn't accept it. She tried to get word to me, but few were willing to go against Rogan to aid an exile."

"Did you believe she and Memnon had abandoned you?"

"Almost completely," she said forlornly. "My father's parting words lay nestled in my heart, but my mind believed Fearghal's lies. My uncle began to initiate me in the ways of the fae. He blamed my free thinking and rebellious nature on Memnon's influence, a demon corruption to be removed. He drummed fae culture, history and endless rules about duty and honour into me. I threw myself into my lessons, soaking them up. It made me feel closer to my mother, and I needed that, believing that she had turned her face from me."

She stopped and Eric felt her grip on his hand loosen. She was lost in memories again, dark ones he sensed. He tugged on her hand. "What was the Realm like?"

"Describing it would be futile. How could I properly explain the sheer beauty and magnificence of the Realm in words?" She rolled her eyes mockingly. Sobering she admitted, "I saw little of the Realm beyond my uncle's farm at first. I wasn't deemed ready for fae society. That took two years of Fearghal moulding me, of letting my true self sink under the weight of his indoctrination. At twenty, I was finally allowed to attend a coming of age celebration."

"Your own?"

"No, a distant cousin of Erin's. I didn't know him, or any other fae my age. My uncle's farm was isolated up in the mountains, which were lovely by the way, but made me yearn for Ireland. Only a few close relatives visited, occasionally the clan chief, Devin. I found my elders intimidating and excused myself to watch over Una and Cara during their visits. I sensed the weight of their disapproval, I think."

"In four years you didn't meet anyone else?"

"Occasionally I went with my aunt to the closest market, down in the lowlands. Erin cautioned me to stay aloof and dignified. I was stared at, but I was used to that from Kerry. Strangers attract curious stares."

"But there was more to it," he guessed.

"Yes. The crossbreed – that is how I was known, amongst other less flattering names – had a fearsome reputation. I was an abomination, a freak to be feared. Not that I knew. Fearghal saw to it I was sheltered in the bosom of my loving family."

Eric snorted derisively. Loving family, his pale dead ass. That uncle of hers had isolated her, brainwashed her, and lied to her. "Fearghal did not do that out of kindness," he said coldly.

"You are right. That household kept me blanketed in love, but also in ignorance. I was like a lamb to the slaughter."

"What happened?"

"The celebration was a turning point. Erin made me a beautiful gown and spoke of attracting male attention. I was thrilled. The feasting and music was wonderful, laughter and joy all around me. Following Erin's advice I ignored the curious looks and made stilted conversation, watching enviously as the other young fae paired off to dance. None of the young males would meet my eyes, let alone dance with me. I gave up waiting for my turn and wandered to a table laden with food. Then I saw him.

"He was beautiful, and I was not yet immune to the beauty of the fae. Tall, fair skinned, with long black hair that brushed his broad shoulders … He turned, scowling forbiddingly, and his dark eyes pierced mine. He was older, much older than the youngsters too scared to approach me, and – oh, how my youthful heart jolted at the tragedy – the left side of his face was badly scarred."

"I smiled shyly. He looked away, but our eyes met again. I wove a romantic past for my wounded hero. Oh yes, mine. Before we even spoke." Her mouth twisted in distaste. "He approached, with a drink. Nervous, I stammered answers to his polite questions as I drank it. He took my hand and led me to dance. Stiff and proud, he ignored the whispers that followed us with dignity. I was smitten."

Pain and anger coloured her words, at odds with the scene she was painting. Eric had only one explanation for that. He said quietly, "You loved him."

"I cannot answer that," she said bitterly.

"Who was he?"

Her face pinched with anger. "A liar who stole my dreams. A brute who crushed my spirit. Treasach."

"Trah-sack," Eric echoed, dredging the meaning from memories of the Irish. "Fierce fighter. What happened between you?"

"Too much. After the dance, he came to me at the farm. He was attentive but reserved. I saw what I wanted: a brave damaged man of honour who chose me, the crossbreed, to heal his heart. He saw past my blood as I saw past his scars, so I thought. We shared a few stolen kisses. I was ecstatic, felt myself urgently in love. After three such visits, he spoke to my uncle about marriage."

Eric stiffened. "Not your father?"

She scoffed. "Ask Memnon, a demon, for permission? Not likely. My uncle was responsible for me in fae. I did not question that, because I had my heart set on Treasach and nothing would sway me. Certainly not my father, who I knew would object. He had married for duty. I was free to do what he could not: marry for love, love like my parents had."

"You did love him."

She shook her head. "I was a fool. As the humans say: marry in haste, repent at leisure. We were married before I turned twenty-one, ridiculously young for the fae."

Eric blinked. "Fearghal allowed it."

"Yes, he was pleased. Erin was not, though she hid it. I thought Treasach's age made her uneasy; he was over five hundred. Or she disapproved because her mother was water fae and Treasach was sky."

At that titbit, Eric's thumb faltered in its soothing circle. Sky fae: he'd bet his fangs on which clan.

"We settled in the mountains. Not on Treasach's own land, with his clan on the distant plains. I didn't question it. I was grateful to be near my kin, not thrust amongst strangers. The wedding ceremony was small. None of his kin came, and I didn't question that either. I was relieved, wary of their disapproval. If the marriage bed was not quite what I expected, I had nothing to complain about but a vague sense of disappointment. Treasach was … careful taking my maidenhead. But he did not, to use the vernacular, rock my world."

Eric scoffed.

Her eyes twinkled. "Yes, not your philosophy."

"Not usually, no," he said grimly, thinking of Freyda. Treasach had treated Sorcha the same way, not caring to pleasure the tender-hearted wife who thought herself in love with him. Eric did not like the implications.

She gave Eric a curious look, and then comprehension dawned. "Freyda?"

He pulled a face and nodded.

"Good, I'd hate to think you wasted your talents on her. Marriage can be hell, can't it?" She squeezed his hand and sighed. "At first marriage confused me. We didn't spend as much time together as I expected; he had business in his own lands that he said didn't concern me. Treasach was distant, but we made love regularly, and it was reasonably pleasant. I assumed his detachment sprang from his stern personality and all was well."

"But it wasn't," Eric said softly.

"No. It wasn't. A season later he seemed indifferent to me. I was heartbroken. I tried to please him, but at my clumsy attempts he withdrew, became colder. I sensed he was angry with me and saw it in his gestures, his looks, though he tried to hide it. What had I done wrong? I didn't know.

"Fearghal discouraged me from visiting the farm, wanting me to turn to my husband for comfort. Erin brought my cousins to see me occasionally, but I kept my troubles to myself, fearing her censure. Miserable and lonely, I begged Treasach to take me on his trips. He refused. I began to suspect he was ashamed of me. The isolation was suffocating. Inevitably I lost my temper one day as Treasach was leaving and … I would say we fought, but actually I hurled a barrage of complaints and he stormed out, shouting that no wife would speak to him as I had.

"I had had enough. With nowhere else to go, I set off across the mountains towards my uncle's house, walking to clear my head. Relief filled me when I crested the last hill and saw the twins playing in the orchard below. I had missed them. I hurried down towards their laughter amid the blossoming trees. As I passed the house I halted abruptly, startled to hear my name and raised voices from my uncle's study."

Her grip on Eric's hand tightened. "Burning with curiosity, I crouched beneath the open window. I was stunned by what I heard. My husband was complaining acrimoniously that I was not yet with child. My uncle replied sharply that he had given no guarantee of that due to my demon blood."

Eric said grimly, "Treasach was Speirling."

"Yes, a coincidence I never questioned. I should have. How did you know?"

He shrugged, his suspicions confirmed. "I married Aude in my brother's place, remember."

"Oh. Of course. You are familiar with such traditions."

"What else did you overhear?"

"Treasach hissed out that he expected at least one child for the dowry he'd paid. Fearghal retorted icily that Treasach would be hard pressed to find another halfling bride let alone a full fae one."

Eric was startled by the strength of his anger. His voice was harsh with it. "Your uncle manipulated you from the start. He betrayed you, his own kin, for the dowry."

Sorcha leant back against the couch, pensive. "Yes … but Fearghal had reason for what he did."

"He sold you without your knowledge. You forgive him this?" he asked incredulously.

"No. But I see things clearly that were once obscured. Fearghal was young, barely seventy, as was Erin. Of low-rank, they had to obey the clan. I was not pragmatic like you, I was a romantic. How could I be otherwise, growing up with parents who defied their kin for love? Even after all his instruction, Fearghal doubted I would accept an arranged marriage to atone for my mother's sins. He had no choice but to trick me into it."

Eric's lip curled and he growled.

Sorcha ignored it. "Not that I understood that when I confronted Treasach and my uncle. I burst in on them boiling with rage. Steam wasn't pouring from my ears, but my hands were smoking. Only the muting of my demon essence prevented me setting the house on fire. The shock on their faces!"

Her chuckle turned into a grimace. "Then there was a lot of angry yelling. It was Erin, quiet, reticent Erin, who stopped our harsh words. In she came, blustering like a spring storm, and tossed Treasach out of her house. She was unstoppable when her children's peace was threatened."

"Did your uncle tell you the truth then?"

"No, he said I was too upset to hear it. I stayed that night, weeping long over Treasach, my heart broken. Little did I know I had years of weeping to come," she said dryly. "The next day Erin, who was a skilled weaver, asked me to help her in her workshop. It was there, the peaceful rhythm of her loom never ceasing, that I learnt how Treasach and Fearghal came to an arrangement."

"Some six years before I entered Fae, Devin had offered Speirling another female in place of my mother, hoping their anger had cooled. The male my mother had been promised to had already taken a bride, a water fae, but Speirling had other males in need of a wife. Speirling refused our female haughtily – she made a match with another clan, I think – and our clan remained indebted. When I arrived, Devin, short of available females, approached Speirling again only to be rebuffed with much scorn for daring to offer me. Erin hesitated to say why, but I guessed that the crossbreed was beneath them."

"Fools. What changed?"

"I'm not sure. Speirling's change of heart came around the time my healing talent, a valuable trait to add to their bloodline, showed itself. Erin thought that was why Speirling unbent their dented pride and approached Devin, suggesting a match with Treasach. He had lost his last living descendant, a son, a decade earlier and needed an heir. Erin told me all this calmly, but when I asked if Treasach had difficulty finding a mate, if his disfigurement was to blame, she became evasive."

Eric muttered, "Fucking fairies."

"Yes. Truth is a fluid thing to the fae," Sorcha agreed wearily. "Erin told me what she could that day, but it wasn't everything. She and Fearghal had convinced Devin that I would balk at a stranger. So Devin had insisted that Treasach meet me before the match was agreed. When I was eager to marry him with no prompting, Erin was greatly relieved. She apologised for keeping it from me, but I hushed her. I could hardly blame her. I had been willing, determined even, to tie myself to Treasach."

"Your aunt and uncle should have explained."

"Perhaps, but Erin knew enough of my romantic daydreams to fear I might oppose an arranged marriage on principle, even if I did love Treasach. She urged me to forgive him, make the best of it for the short time we would be tied together." She tilted her head. "Hm. It occurs to me now that that was advice from her own experience."

"A short time?"

"I discovered the length of my 'sentence' when Treasach arrived with Devin a day later."

"To persuade you to go back."

"Yes. I was furious with Treasach, but my heart leapt when I saw him. His meagre, barely contrite apology rang hollow after the hurtful words I'd overheard from him. Yet I still yearned for him, which left me confused and heart-sore.

"Fearghal and Devin took me into the study to browbeat me into doing my duty for the clan. The conversation was not pleasant. First, Devin berated me, making it clear no-one else would want to marry the crossbreed, with the shame my blood carried.

A growl rumbled in Eric's chest. He was starting to hate that word.

"His words didn't cow me. I demanded to know what terms they had agreed: twelve years of marriage, long enough for a child if that was possible. I asked what had been paid to my uncle for his co-operation. Fearghal flushed in shame, but Devin answered bluntly. It was a reasonable amount, which weighed heavily on me. On one hand, Fearghal had not given me away cheaply. On the other, Treasach had paid well for the crossbreed no-one wanted. I was troubled. Perhaps I was the only bride he could find. Was my beloved husband so undesirable, so cruelly rejected for his scars? I could hardly believe it.

"Devin spoke of my mother's disgrace, how my marriage set that right, paid her debt. Naturally, that burden should fall on Aideen's closest kin, and if I refused it, gave further insult to Speirling – there Devin shot Fearghal a sly look – Treasach would demand another wife, one of purer blood. Fearghal blanched and I realised, shocked, that Devin meant Una or Cara would take my place. I was dismayed that Treasach might prefer one of my cousins."

Eric said shrewdly, "You were jealous."

"Yes. After all the waves of anger, disbelief, longing and hurt, it was that jealousy that sank me. I asked for a day to consider and fled to the orchard, weeping. Erin came to find me at dusk. She had been crying too and I saw fear for her daughters in her eyes. I went in to eat. I sat between my cousins, sweet gentle Una and lively giggling Cara. I imagined them married to my stern taciturn husband … It was impossible. If I could hardly bear a loveless marriage, how could I ask it of them? I couldn't do that to them. I loved them dearly."

"It was clever of Devin to threaten them." Too clever, Eric thought. Fearghal had told Devin too much, given him leverage over all of them.

"Yes. The next day I accepted Treasach's apology and returned to our home." Sorcha's tone became flat. "I did my duty and saw out my term, giving birth to a daughter after five years. The marriage ended acrimoniously. The girl was sky fae and remained with Treasach. This much have I shared with Memnon and Aideen, with lovers. But I have never spoken of what it cost me."

Eric reached over with his free hand and caressed her cheek gently. "Tell me. All of it."

She did, spewing out the poison of those years, what happened in private.

Despite her attempts to be a good wife, to win Treasach over, he was increasingly resentful as the months went by with no pregnancy. She longed for his affection, still adored him in the face of his coldness.

It began with verbal abuse. She wept the first time he called her crossbreed. Not in front of him though, alone hours after the insult. Then he was a little too rough when he bedded her. Then his anger at the situation erupted and he struck her.

Eric shoved his anger down and kept himself calm, stoking her palm, never letting go of her hand.

She was devastated by the blow and its aftermath: her crippling fear of Treasach. If she tried to refuse his advances, he reminded her coldly that it was her duty to provide him with an heir, the threat of violence hanging in the air. He was older, a warrior, stronger than her physically and magically. She had no choice but to comply.

Eventually he gave up the pretence of threatening her and used brute force, pushing her face into the pillows, bruising her wrists as he held her down… He was pitiless in bed and out of it, losing his temper and striking her often.

Then one of his blows caused a miscarriage. She hadn't realised she was pregnant – fae could sense a child once it took root, but this was her first and she was not full fae. Treasach was furious, blaming her foul blood, accusing her of hiding her condition and provoking him with her stubbornness.

Eric broke in then, voice hot with the fury burning in his blood. "Does this piece of shit still live?"

Sorcha swallowed the lump in her throat. "No. Memnon took care of that."

He snarled, "Good. Was it slow?"

"Swift. It was enough that he was gone."

A tear split on her cheek. Eric brushed it away quickly with his free hand. His gesture broke the dam and she let out a sob. He pulled her against him and wrapped her in his arms, rocking her as she wept, relieved he couldn't see her tears. It wasn't their lack of scent that disturbed him.

Once she calmed, he stroked her back and asked gently, "How long did this go on?"

"Until the end of the marriage," she whispered sadly. She pulled back and stroked the side of his face. "Far fewer years than you survived with Ocella."

"One year is too long, Sorcha." He took her hand from his cheek and brushed his lips with her fingertips.

"You survived much worse."

"You were young, lacking experience. I was not. I had seen battle, death, suffered loss. I already knew cruelty. You did not. You were innocent, sheltered."

"Thank you," she whispered, wiping her face with her hands and then retaking his. "I did get a respite thanks to Erin. She suspected something, not that Treasach encouraged us to meet. After my loss, she came to comfort me and caught sight of my bruises. She was distraught. She said Treasach had a reputation for ill-using women, but she'd hoped that–"

"They knew!" Eric exploded, fangs snapping down. "Fearghal knew what Treasach was."

She winced at his tone. "Only rumours. Enough for him to be concerned. He was protecting Una and Cara. Erin and Fearghal may not have loved each other, but they loved their daughters fiercely. Do not judge them so harshly."

Eric snarled and opened his mouth to protest.

"Hush," Sorcha said, laying her hand on gently his cheek and looking deep into his eyes. "Would you not have done the same for Inga?"

His jaw clenching, he insisted forcefully, "I would have found another way."

"And if you had niece of age, who you believed was in love and willing? If your Jarl ordered it?"

He glared at her. Then his shoulders slumped. He muttered, "I would have warned you."

"I would have been deaf to your words." Sorcha stroked his face. "I don't blame Fearghal. I chose to protect his daughters too, when I returned to Treasach. He and Erin never knew the depths of Treasach's depravity. I never told Erin he was violating me."

"Erin saw your bruises."

"And she intervened when she could. Four years into our marriage, I was with child again. Erin confronted Treasach, saying if he wanted the child to live, I had to stay with her until the birth. Fae women expel pregnancies spontaneously if they are … unhappy, so he saw the wisdom in her words."

"Wisdom," Eric scoffed softly. "He had none. He wanted a child but he beat you."

"He was a contradiction, ruled by his temper. Erin was right, I blossomed away from him. We told Una and Cara that Treasach was called away by his clan. My cousins were almost grown and doted on me as my belly swelled. Treasach visited, but Erin stayed within earshot and I was safe."

"And when the child was born?"

Sorcha's face lit up. "Fionna was beautiful. Treasach came to see her and I was relieved."

"Relieved?"

"He loved her the moment he saw her. I worried that he might hanker for a son."

"Not that he wouldn't accept a child with demon blood?"

"No. Thankfully our daughter has only a little of Memnon's blood, too little to matter even to the fae. I knew Treasach wouldn't care. I never thought him heartless, despite what he did to me."

Eric held his tongue, but she felt his disbelief and tried to explain. "Treasach was too proud to be trapped with a wife he came to loathe. The frustration brought his sadistic nature to the fore with me, but with Fionna I saw with my own eyes that he was capable of deep abiding love."

Envy flashed in her eyes, but Eric didn't comment.

"Fionna inspired devotion. She was striking, even amongst fae, with Treasach's black hair and my green eyes. Once she was weaned I had to go back to Treasach, but things were easier. I was content with Fionna."

"He didn't stop."

"No. It happened less frequently. He wanted another child, but nothing came of it. Our dynamic was comfortingly like my own childhood: a father often away, a mother and daughter in the mountains. When Treasach was absent, I could pretend all was well. My situation was much improved; Fionna gave me reason to socialise, to visit my aunt and the market for her sake. I was less lonely. I even found I could bear the whispers that began to reach me of Treasach's affairs."

Eric was puzzled; a second earlier she seemed to envy her daughter. "You weren't jealous?"

Sorcha shrugged. "It stung, but mostly I was grateful it diverted his attention from me. Relieved as you were with Alexei."

"Ah. I understand."

"I came to accept that for him it had always been an arranged marriage. Naturally one strays in that situation. It was not frowned upon."

"Yes, that was the case when I was human."

Sorcha raised an eyebrow. "Did you?"

Eric shrugged. "It was expected of men."

"Aude accepted this?"

"Aude was a practical woman. Ours was not a love match, never had been. We had an unspoken understanding. As long as no child came of it and it was discreet, neither of us cared overmuch about fidelity."

"Us?" Sorcha's eyes were wide. "She took lovers?"

He chuckled. "I was at sea for months. I could hardly fault her for … relieving the monotony, shall we say, much less stop her. I turned a blind eye and so did she. She was always waiting on the shore."

"What if she had fallen in love?"

He blinked. "That never occurred to me. Our lives were hard and love was a luxury we did not seek." He thought for a moment. "I don't think she did. Maybe if she had lived longer..."

"What about you?"

"I took pleasure where I found it. Nothing serious. I was careful, out of respect for Aude. I would not dishonour my wife by shitting in my own hearth."

She scrunched up her nose. "Humans have the most bizarre sayings."

Eric was pleased to see her mood lighten and he smirked. "My people had sagas about farting competitions."

"Really?"

"What can I say? Our winters were long."

"Very long," Sorcha teased. Then her face fell. "It was winter when I lost Fionna."

Eric knew she needed to get it all out. "Go on."

"I had a few months' grace after the marriage officially ended. He came for her on her seventh birthday, and took her to his kin, to his lands where I wasn't welcome. I feared that from the day of her birth, because she was sky fae."

"It follows the father?"

"No. It is what you are. It can follow either parent or rarely neither, a throwback to a distant ancestor."

"Then who raises the child?"

"Usually the mother until the child is grown. Treasach wanted Fionna with him and when I refused he appealed to Rogan, who naturally sided with Treasach and ruled our daughter was better off with him. I fell into a deep despair after he took Fifi."

"Did you go home?"

"Home?"

"To your parents."

"I had been away from them over half my life by then; I had no home. I chose to stay for Fionna. I was allowed to see her twice a year, if only for her sake. Each parting was acid in the wound. We became increasingly estranged. Worse, she developed her father's haughty demeanour. I knew he had succeeded in poisoning her against me the first time she called me crossbreed."

Eric muttered in Norse.

"I persisted with our meetings, tried to reach her. At sixteen she refused to see me. We met rarely over the next five years; each time she treated me as a stranger. She married a prominent sky fae at twenty-four, far too young. My worst fear. Treasach arranged it and I was powerless to stop it. Forced to admit she was lost to me, I returned to Earth."

"Have you met since?"

She nodded. "Centuries later. It was like walking on broken glass. She is her father's daughter. My Fifi, my sweet playful Fifi, was erased long ago. Only Fionna, proud and cruel, lives on. Speirling pushed for her to marry young, like me. But she was proud to serve as their brood-mare. She bore them twins, strong warriors to replace Treasach's sons."

She fell silent. Eric let her be, digesting her story. It explained much: her unease with the fae, her dislike of the Brigants. But something did not sit right.

"Fearghal … his teaching, the isolation, everything was to prepare you for a possible marriage."

"Yes."

"Treasach could not find another bride, so he agreed to take you … He was part of the deceit, he seduced you."

"Yes. For a race that cannot lie directly, the fae excel at deception and I was easy prey. Lonely, out of place, I was ripe for the picking."

Sorcha had talked of adoring Treasach, believing herself in love but … "Did you love him?"

"I was drawn to him. It took six years of his brutality before that wore thin. What else could that be but blind stupid love? Or so I thought."

"It wasn't?"

She grimaced. "After Fifi left, Fearghal gave me a share of my dowry and I–"

Eric sneered, "Guilt money."

"I suppose it was. I travelled, searching for a place to wait out the long months between Fifi's visits. I found it deep in the forest, in a house with a wonderful herb garden. Brid was a healer, an ancient fae who had tired of her clan and family. She took me in. Between Brid's quiet presence and the solitude of the forest, I kept my sanity while Fionna drifted away from me. After she refused to see me, I took to ranging far into the trees to escape my despair. One day I found a white flower I didn't recognise, except for its scent. You remember Treasach handed me a drink when first we met?"

"Yes."

"Our meeting was etched in my memory; I had retraced it fondly many times before ..." she gestured vaguely to indicate the hell her marriage became. "The flower smelt like that drink. Uneasy, I described the plant to Brid and asked if it was used to flavour wine. She sat down hard, shakily revealing it was used to make a powerful love potion. I finally understood everything. Why I fell for him so fast, why it didn't stop."

Eric's fangs dropped and he hissed softly. "When I spoke of Ocella, you implied your feelings had been twisted against you. This is what you meant?"

"Yes," she whispered.

Still stiff with anger, he asked, "Was your uncle party to this?"

"I don't think so. Brid told me it was outlawed. Treasach would not have risked telling Fearghal, he ..." Sorcha trailed off, watching him with concern. "What is it Eric?"

He was thinking furiously. He tensed and slowly raised his eyes to hers, thumb circling on her hand again. "Devin. Fearghal told him too much. Your affection for your cousins, what you were like, that you might resist the marriage … Devin told Treasach you had to fall in love."

She swore softly in fae. "Devin would have done anything to secure the marriage."

"Does he live?" Eric asked, his eyes glittering.

"No."

"Pity."

"Thank you for offering." She clasped his hand in both of hers. "You see why I hated hearing what Ocella did to you with his blood. I only suffered such treachery for a few years and that was damaging enough."

"Yes, I see."

They sat in silence for a while, still holding hands.

Eric asked, "When did you see Memnon again?"

"Not long after Fionna married. It was not an easy homecoming. I had been gone too long. My parents longed for their child to return, but they got a guilty, embittered woman instead."

"Guilty?"

"For staying in fae so long for Fionna to no good end, while Aideen and Memnon waited thirty-four long years for me." She sighed heavily. "I couldn't be who they wanted. I couldn't stay with them at first, and that broke my mother's heart. We reconciled fully about twenty years before … Her death was too much to bear after so much trauma."

"But you had Memnon."

"Yes, that helped greatly. But it took a long time to recover from my time in fae. I had to learn how to trust again. After thirty years in the demon realm I married." She felt Eric's surprise and smiled. "Nestor was an ancient demon. Calm, controlled, he was the perfect partner for me with my empathy. His gentleness was the balm I needed. Our marriage was one of friendship and companionship rather than passion, but it healed me. We parted as friends."

"Did you have children?"

"One. A girl who arrived unexpectedly after we had been together twenty years. We named her Aisling, our dream. Whether it was Nestor's age or she had too much of the fae about her to survive in Dae, she was sickly and died in infancy."

He let her feel his sympathy. Thinking of Aideen's fate, he asked cautiously, "Can you still ..?"

"I am half-dae. It seems I can bear their children without harm."

He nodded. "I see why you were uneasy around full fae when you returned to this realm."

"Yes. I didn't trust them, especially the males."

"Didn't?"

She smiled. "That is a pleasanter fairy-tale, but," she gestured at the sky, "we don't have time."

He nodded. Dawn was coming. He looked down at their hands. "This connection between us…"

"It's perplexing you."

"A little."

She nodded. "Me too. Although … we were both betrayed by those we thought of as family."

"We've both been forced to marry," he said slowly.

"We've both been manipulated magically to hold affection for those who …"

"Raped us," Eric said softly. "You can say it."

"You survived much more."

"I have had longer to recover."

She looked at him with admiration. "It has made you stronger, strong enough to survive Nadia's torture."

He shrugged. "So, this connection … You think it is just … the similarities of our experiences?"

"Perhaps. I'm not sure."

They looked at each other for a long moment in the flickering light from the guttering candles. Eric let go of her hand. "I should go." He slipped his shoes back on and stood, glancing at the sky. "I have to find somewhere for the day."

Sorcha said solemnly, "You can stay."

He frowned. "Bury myself on your land?"

"No. You can stay. Come see," she said, standing and tugging on his hand. She led him upstairs, to a bedroom with a large comfortable bed and a thick shutter over the window.

He stood on the threshold, blinking in surprise. "For me?"

"You are welcome in my house, Eric Northman." She gave him a wry smile. "The room is warded against all fae but me, and if you don't trust my word there is a steel coffin under the bed."

Eric didn't know what to say. He bowed deeply. "You are very generous."

She could feel he wanted to thank her. Her smile broadened. He growled quietly at her and startled her by pulling her into a sudden embrace.

She hugged him back tightly, whispering a thank you.

His chest rumbled with laughter. "Now you're teasing me with words I can't return."

She chuckled, and pulled back to stroke his face tenderly. "Rest well, Eric."

He kissed her softly on the forehead. "Sleep well, Sorcha."

He stepped into the room and closed the door. Sorcha laid her hand gently on it in a tender gesture before she left for her own bed.

…

They would both sleep the day away, exhausted.

At sunset, he would be pleased that she had bagged blood in the house for him, but he would hide that with a joke about expecting fae blood next time.

After he left, she would shake her head at the wet towel on the bathroom floor, reminded of another untidy man, but she would be inordinately pleased to find the coffin unused and the bed messed.

He trusted her; she trusted him.

...

To be trusted is a greater compliment than to be loved. George MacDonald.

Author's note:

Hope all you Rory & Eric fans enjoyed that. I put it up in a rush, so if the site has mangled anything let me know, but I wanted to get this out to you all as a thank you to all my readers for nominating Turbulence in the TB/SVM fanfic awards. I am so chuffed & suprised that it got nominated in 5 categories. Thank you!

Now go and vote for you favourite stories at youwantbloodawards over on wordpress before the 29th- I know there's so many to chose from, picking the best will be hard. I might have to read some of them again. It's a dirty job, but I'm up for it!