So here's a really important third chapter! I took liberties with this one by attempting to recreate it from Ink Exchange- or rather explain how it came into being. I also use some actual dialogue from the book interspersed with my own writing. So please REVIEW! I real really want to know what you think about this one! Also, Melissa Marr owns all of this wonder and enchantment; I simply like to write about her tales. Thanks for the reviews so far!
Irial was in the shadow of a tree again, watching the gancanagh emerge from the back of the tavern. His trousers were undone, his shirt held closed by a single clasp. On his face was an odd bleakness, one that seemed misplaced given the pleasure he'd just felt. So too, were his conflicting emotions. Irial tasted helplessness, anger, fear, and an insatiable lust that was tinged with weariness.
What an odd creature, Irial noted.
Niall then looked once towards to the back of the tavern, where he had ravenously taken the boy moments prior. Was that longing Irial sensed in those tortured eyes? A series of expressions crossed his handsome face that Irial couldn't quite name.
And then, as if nothing of interest had occurred, Niall walked away, passing the tavern's lit windows with long strides, moving towards the darkening forest again.
Did he have no dwelling? Irial curiously wondered. No place to call his own?
If not, Irial felt badly for the boy. The world could be a very cruel place to a lone faery. Irial himself knew how it felt to be alone for quite some time. Far more intimately than he should, were he being honest with himself.
I have Gabriel, Irial admitted sadly as if to quell his unpleasant thoughts, but even he isn't my true companion. Not in every sense of the word. He was Irial's fighter, his protector, and his most trustworthy (only) friend, but selfishly, that still wasn't enough.
Even now I feel the solitude.
True companionship was what Irial really desired; someone to call his own, who would love him unconditionally, despite who and what he was. Tendrils of longing filled him as he watched the fey boy stalk off into the darkness- no doubt in search of more mortal flesh.
Does coitus make him feel safe? Dull out all the pain? Irial wondered. And oh, what pain laces those pretty features.
That would explain his nomadic, solitary nature. Never getting too close. Always at a distance from those he coveted, despite the skin shared. Yet Irial saw beneath the lascivious nature of the gancanagh boy an unsettling kind of innocence; a naïveté and yearning to be loved- be the lovers mortal or fey.
Niall was the perfect combination of wanton sin and unfathomable purity. Like shards of broken glass or a heavy rain, he was lovely and wicked at the same time. A lovely piece of art that had yet to know its true value.
Yes, Irial thought eagerly. I quite want to know this gancanagh. This Niall. This beautifully fascinating boy who has not yet chosen a path of darkness or light.
But I cannot do so watching him wearily from the shadows, where he knows me not. I must introduce myself first.
That would at least be the polite thing to do.
Niall wasn't sure what was wrong with him of late.
He'd been bedding more mortals than he could recall, but that itself was not the issue. The problem was his lack of control around them. For a reason he couldn't understand, he found mortal men and women far more enthralling than fey. They were almost beastly in their sexual appetites, more resilient than fey ever could be. Their too-finite lives made them full of a desperation and a passion that was unmatched by any of the immortals.
He had an urge to accost them that almost negated anything else, save for what little he had left of his scruples. There was a need to absorb that passionate, desperate, warm energy into himself so as to not feel cold and alone anymore.
And so his unchecked fascination with mortals left him in his current debacle; with an unrelenting mortal woman who refused to end their little tryst.
Earlier, the girl had bared herself when she'd entered the wood, eager to give herself to him without Niall having to ask. Her bare skin was cut with innumerable scratches, but he hadn't thought to asked her where she had got them. No. There had been no talking when she first appeared to him, hungry for sex. Only raw need from both parties.
It wasn't the first time he'd bedded her, though. He'd given into her passions merely a week ago, when he first saw her bathing by the pond. But she'd never, ever been as aggressive as she was being now.
The woman, whose name he'd forgotten in the midst of passion, was currently shaking with the tremors of her most recent orgasm, her body pliant beneath his as she panted. Her auburn hair was a tangled mess of leaves and dirt from the forest floor they lay on, clumping and tangling on her scalp.
Niall looked down at her face: She wasn't pretty, not truly. In fact, her port looked rather emaciated. But that wasn't what he was after. It was her mortal spirit that did the trick. And that admission both excited and hollowed him.
As their breaths slowed and the euphoria faded, Niall began to disentangle himself from her tight embrace- only to watch her thin fingers defensively curl around his wrist when he tried to stand.
Niall impatiently met her glossy eyes, but calmly removed her fingers from his wrist nonetheless. Then he commenced pulling his trousers up his hips and buttoning what was left of his clawed at shirt.
"More", she cried suddenly, reaching for the buckle of his pants with impatient fingers.
"No", Niall chided, putting her hands at her sides. He strangely felt as if he were talking to a small child when she glared at him.
With a lunge, the woman grabbed his wrist again and tore his shirt open.
"Stop", he hissed, grabbing both of her hands in his. "Control yourself."
A low whine formed in her throat as she stared at him, her brown eyes hollow and piercing at the same time. It disconcerted him immensely.
Especially when she began to cry.
Hot, confused tears fell from the mortals eyes as she wept. Eyes that stared up at him as if he were the answer to all of her questions, as if his rejection pained her more than anything else.
She fidgeted uncomfortably, her fingers clawing at her own skin as she bit her lower lip until it bled. The quiet sobbing would not cease. She continued to grab at him, even as he shook her off.
"She's an affectionate thing", a clear voice said, cutting through the thick stench of mortal pity that filled the air.
That was when Niall noticed the dark-haired faery approaching from the darkness. The faery was of a similar height and port like Niall, his wide shoulders and tapered waist gracefully complimenting his unearthly beauty. A sleek, muscled torso was just visible beneath his half-buttoned shirt.
For a moment, Niall forgot how to breathe. The faery had raven black hair that touched his shoulders and features so ethereal, that they had to be carved from the gods. So stunned was he by the male before him that he forgot that the mortal was hastily trying to unfasten his breeches.
With deft fingers, Niall pulled her hand away and said, "She's been drinking, I suspect. She wasn't so aggressive last week."
"Indeed." Then the beautiful faery, with his full, inviting mouth let out a delicious, smooth laugh that made Niall swallow. "Like animals, aren't they?" he asked with a grin.
"Mortals?" he asked in a voice that didn't sound like his own. Then, drawn to the man for reasons he couldn't fully explain, Niall stepped closer to him, dodging the mortal's nimble hands as he did so. "They seem to hide it well enough at first… they change, though."
The beautiful faery laughed, and Niall truly enjoyed the sound. Then he pulled the weeping mortal girl into his arms and stepped closer to Niall, intentionally invading his space. His black eyes were alight danger and intrigue. "Maybe you're just irresistible", he whispered in a voiced that made Niall lightheaded.
Niall smoothed a hand over his shirt now that the mortal was contained, but it didn't stop the slight tremble of his lip as the faery's words slid over his skin. Then he glanced at the man before him. The girl was motionless in the other faery's grip. She stared unresponsively at both of them with glazed eyes, seemingly unconcerned with what was happening around her. The dark-haired faery caressed her motionless face with his thumb as he watched Niall.
Then he said, "I'm Irial." And nodding towards the path that lead to the mortal's village: "Perhaps we could take this one somewhere less… public."
Irial then proceeded to give Niall the most lascivious, sinful, intoxicating smile he'd ever seen. Niall's mouth went dry with need and a brief flash of terror and fear washed over him. His feelings were so tangled, he could barely comprehend them.
The other faery was nonplussed. Eying Niall hungrily, Irial licked his full lips and laughed. "Come now, Niall. I think you could use a bit of company, couldn't you?"
Could I? Could he? Right now, could he walk off with strange faery he'd just met if only for a promise of passion?
Of course, a little voice inside of him shouted without delay, enraptured by the very sight of Irial. Enraptured by everything he stood for; the danger and intrigue and risk he was willing to let Niall be a part of.
Company was what Irial'd asked for. Yes, Niall wanted companionship. Needed it. More than anything else.
So staring into those blackened eyes that were the color of pure darkness, Niall slowly assented, allowing a new liberation to wash over him. Then he surprised himself by grabbing the faery's free hand and leading him towards the silent mortal village.