Hand in hand, with Fairy grace,
Will we sing, and bless this place.
~William Shakespeare
The next two days were rather uneventful. I was expecting something to happen because the of the magical wahoo and bupkis. I now understand why they tell you to be careful what you wish for because the headache starts in music class.
Ciar keeps giving me sideways glances wearing that somehow attractive frown of his. For the first hour I roll my eyes at his concern. Now my head feels like it’s going to explode and the room keeps doing this weird weeble wobble. Now I’m actually starting to worry a bit myself.
Fae of any species, don’t get sick like humans do so that narrows the field on what’s wrong with me. It also forces me to dig my head out of the sand of denial. Normally, I hate when Ciar is right and this particular moment is no exception.
Cradling my head, I lean it on the cool top of the desk. Briefly the pain lessens but it comes back with a vengeance and I can no longer hide it. Cold sweat breaks out all over my body, instantly soaking into my shirt, and a moan of pain escapes me before I can catch it.g
My stomach is debating on showing my lunch to everyone.
Another wave of pain rolls through me and I seriously doubt my ability to remain sitting up much longer. Warm strong arms scoop me up and instantly the pain lessens. Ciar.
I can feel us moving but I have no idea where he’s taking us. I hope it’s some place that has pain killers. Pain lances through me again and I cry out. Maybe just knock me unconscious, that will work too.
“I got you, monster girl,” he whispers against my hair.
He lays me on something soft, but it doesn’t feel like my bed and then cool hands gently rest against my forehead.
“She is in the throes of Awakening. How long has she had symptoms?” A woman asks above me.
Ciar took me to the healer, I can smell the clean scent of her magic. It’s a little bit of a surprise and show’s a facet of him I’ve never seen before.
“Take her pain away,” is Ciar’s curt response.
“That is not something I can do. It is a painful process and no amount of magic can lessen that pain. From the looks of things there is a good chance she will not sur—”
“Then you’re useless,” he interrupts, picking me up again.
I force my swollen eyes open and try to smile at him but instead of smiling back, he kisses my mouth. With the light touch of his lips, the pain fades again. It returns in a rush when he pulls away.
“I’m sorry, monster girl. I can only take away seconds and the healers in this place are fucking worthless. Mada has forbidden me to bring you back to the forest until she gives permission, which means I won’t be able to find it even if I disobey her. I’m sorry I cannot take you home.” He kisses me again and I force the smile to happen.
Trying to talk out loud causes more pain so I try to communicate with my thoughts. He may be able to telepathically communicate but I’m not a telepath.
It’ll be fine. I can sleep it off, dog breath.
A surprised chuckle bursts out of him. My eyes drift shut again, it hurts. It hurts so bad. There’s a slam of multiple doors and I hear someone yelling and then a thud as something fleshy hits the ground. I’m pretty sure someone got in Ciar’s way and he took exception to it.
The cold blessed feeling of water embracing me makes me moan, I sigh as the sharpness of the pain dims. It isn’t gone but I’ll take what I can get.
“Ciar… did you—Awaken?” I manage to get out.
His warm body moves against mine and I realize he’s holding me in the water. I fight to open my eyes, but they won’t budge.
“I was born as I am, monster girl. I didn’t need to.” That’s something to puzzle on later and it speaks volumes about the power of the man holding me.
“I leave for ten minutes and you allow something to happen, dark lord. Explain yourself.” I feel the tickle of Zag’s tongue as he investigates himself. “Oh, oh my—it’s happening. Fluffy, get your fat ass in here!” Zag calls.
A laugh comes out as a cough and then a moan as a fresh wave of pain rocks me. Ciar’s arms tighten and I feel the weight of Zag on my chest. A splash and then a bulbous body wraps itself around my legs.
It’s rather cute really, my boys all trying to cuddle me and make me feel better.
Sing to me, dog breath. You have the voice of a flipping angel.
I feel his laugh more than hear it and then the melodious voice of Ciar fills the room. It’s been many years since he sang to comfort me—not since I was a child in fact—and the performance at the music class made me remember the genuine comfort of it.
He still sounds like a flipping angel, and it lulls me, tugging my spirit free from the pain of my reality. Letting it all go, I ride the cadence of Ciar into the darkness of unconsciousness.