Re: A Touch of Fey (Merry Gentry XO Adult UC) Ch. 20 ~ 8/14
Posted: Thu Jan 12, 2012 5:57 pm
A/N: The two of us are so insanely grateful for your guys continued interest and utterly apologetic for our vanishing act even after RF returned. Life hasn't been too nice to Ashita lately and I got busy with school and that annoying real life thing (I'm going to be an Auntie, yay!) but! The story is still done so I am posting the next chapter now and will go back to posting at least once a week until we have it all up. Your patience and comments are immensely appreciated, we have the best fans ever, and we hope you can forgive us for our absence! *hugs and virtual cookies for all*
Against her will, a tear broke free from the confines of her lashes and splashed into the lake, sinking into the dark water, too small to disturb the reflected starlight. Dipping her hands into the cold liquid, she rinsed the remaining blood off of the angry scratches on her arms, angry at herself for caring, for giving Cair the reaction she’d wanted when she’d arranged for Liz’s ‘accident’. The increased attention that Liz had received ever since the press conference, along with Alex’s friendship, had infuriated her niece, and when her increasing verbal taunts produced no reaction, she had taken to using more direct approaches to express her ire. The taste of her bitter, hateful magic had become agonizingly familiar, and Liz knew it was only a matter of time before these attacks escalated too, unless Liz showed weakness by going to her father or Alex.
She bit her lip, corralling the rising fury that was welling within her now that the pain and grief were diminishing. The urge to retaliate was strong; she was young, and she had yet to attain a hand of power, but she had more than enough mastery of her innate magic to produce an equally vicious spell. But doing so would make her just as petty and cruel as the rest of her blood relatives, and she refused to sink to their level, or to involve anyone else in her struggles. She knew Alex would comfort her, would offer to help, but he couldn’t be everywhere, and she already felt guilty for how much time he spent with her, a fourteen-year-old girl, no matter how much he genuinely enjoyed her company, or so he and her other senses said.
Rising to her feet, she rubbed her arms against the chill of the evening air, soft wind ruffling her hair and bringing a smile to her face. At least she could escape the sithen now, could use glamour to hide herself from the nosy humans and once again surround herself with nature. Something made the surface of the previously calm water ripple, disturbing her regained peace, and she watched in growing surprise and wariness as a circle of water began to spin, faster and faster until it was rising in the air and approaching the bank where she stood.
Before she could react to flee or defend herself, a man appeared out of the funnel of water, the tallest sidhe she had ever seen, with hair and eyes that were every blue and every green of every body of water in the world. He was exquisite, and overwhelming, and power flowed off of him in waves, calling to something inside of her, something that had always been missing. The taste of saltwater flooded her mouth and the scent of sea brine filled her nose, a taste and smell she intimately recognized, despite never having seen the ocean.
A deep voice rumbled through the night air, shocking her out of her daze. “Greetings, blood of my blood; I felt your call.”
Liz blinked, her mouth opening, and then closing again as the sidhe watched her with disturbing intensity. What did he mean, her call? And blood of his blood, did that mean…? Suddenly a gentle hand was cupping her cheek and she blinked again, meeting his dazzling eyes, which were suddenly glinting with deep sorrow and affection. “I see why Nainsí fled; she would have wanted to spare you what I could not spare her.”
“Who are you?” Liz finally whispered, deeply shaken by the intense feelings of familiarity she felt in his presence.
He smiled, a beautiful and painful sight, and placed a soft kiss on her forehead that sent shockwaves of power tingling through her, her blood rushing in her ears like waves crashing on a beach. “I am Barinthus, little one, your grandfather.”
Saltwater
Against her will, a tear broke free from the confines of her lashes and splashed into the lake, sinking into the dark water, too small to disturb the reflected starlight. Dipping her hands into the cold liquid, she rinsed the remaining blood off of the angry scratches on her arms, angry at herself for caring, for giving Cair the reaction she’d wanted when she’d arranged for Liz’s ‘accident’. The increased attention that Liz had received ever since the press conference, along with Alex’s friendship, had infuriated her niece, and when her increasing verbal taunts produced no reaction, she had taken to using more direct approaches to express her ire. The taste of her bitter, hateful magic had become agonizingly familiar, and Liz knew it was only a matter of time before these attacks escalated too, unless Liz showed weakness by going to her father or Alex.
She bit her lip, corralling the rising fury that was welling within her now that the pain and grief were diminishing. The urge to retaliate was strong; she was young, and she had yet to attain a hand of power, but she had more than enough mastery of her innate magic to produce an equally vicious spell. But doing so would make her just as petty and cruel as the rest of her blood relatives, and she refused to sink to their level, or to involve anyone else in her struggles. She knew Alex would comfort her, would offer to help, but he couldn’t be everywhere, and she already felt guilty for how much time he spent with her, a fourteen-year-old girl, no matter how much he genuinely enjoyed her company, or so he and her other senses said.
Rising to her feet, she rubbed her arms against the chill of the evening air, soft wind ruffling her hair and bringing a smile to her face. At least she could escape the sithen now, could use glamour to hide herself from the nosy humans and once again surround herself with nature. Something made the surface of the previously calm water ripple, disturbing her regained peace, and she watched in growing surprise and wariness as a circle of water began to spin, faster and faster until it was rising in the air and approaching the bank where she stood.
Before she could react to flee or defend herself, a man appeared out of the funnel of water, the tallest sidhe she had ever seen, with hair and eyes that were every blue and every green of every body of water in the world. He was exquisite, and overwhelming, and power flowed off of him in waves, calling to something inside of her, something that had always been missing. The taste of saltwater flooded her mouth and the scent of sea brine filled her nose, a taste and smell she intimately recognized, despite never having seen the ocean.
A deep voice rumbled through the night air, shocking her out of her daze. “Greetings, blood of my blood; I felt your call.”
Liz blinked, her mouth opening, and then closing again as the sidhe watched her with disturbing intensity. What did he mean, her call? And blood of his blood, did that mean…? Suddenly a gentle hand was cupping her cheek and she blinked again, meeting his dazzling eyes, which were suddenly glinting with deep sorrow and affection. “I see why Nainsí fled; she would have wanted to spare you what I could not spare her.”
“Who are you?” Liz finally whispered, deeply shaken by the intense feelings of familiarity she felt in his presence.
He smiled, a beautiful and painful sight, and placed a soft kiss on her forehead that sent shockwaves of power tingling through her, her blood rushing in her ears like waves crashing on a beach. “I am Barinthus, little one, your grandfather.”