A Storm of Flames and Deceit

XXXXVI. Sweet as Poison

Nephele
On my first impression, I might say I liked the night court. I liked that even though it was a rouse, they would've fought to protect me had Eris truly been violent with me.
But now...
Now I'm starting to wonder if that had more to do with their hatred of Eris rather than their moral compass. It's clear to me now that they cannot stand him, cannot tolerate him outside of the work he does for their court. They're sending him on a death mission to ally with my father, and I don't have that much time to stop him.
I could see that despite his griping, in his heart he couldn't resist the possibility of finally killing his father, finally freeing his mother. And now, he could finally do it. He doesn't even need to bother with the support of the Lord's if he has my father and his army.
Not that that's a sure thing.
Father so easily betrays people. I'm surprised he hasn't betrayed Beron yet, but I suppose he needs the high lord. He needs his asylum. He needs his support. Beron wasn't easily controlled, but he was easily manipulated. He was just another Hybern for father to leech from on his way to whatever conquest lies next.
The bath in my new room is spectacular, a massive tub that slips out into the open air, giving me a breathtaking view of the waterfall. As beautiful as it is, I can think of nothing more than my own distress over the situation with Eris and my father.
I try to push my worry away, busying myself with lathering lavender soaps and scrubs over my skin as I watch the sun sink behind the mountain. I might be scrubbing my skin raw from the effort of ignoring the stress in my bones. I find it isn't good for me to stress near water, that which conducts electricity so well. My body, though resistant to the current, can still only take so much.
I decide to finish bathing before something bad happens and I strike Eris' house with lightening by mistake. The restraint gets difficult at times. Drying off, I can't be bothered to dress in anything more than a mauve silk robe, laying on top of my sheets, looking out at the horizon.
When?
When did I start caring so much about him?
I can't lie to myself any longer. I could care less about our destinies being entwined- I just want him to be okay. I want him to be safe, but conspiring to gain my fathers trust only to betray it might be the furthest thing from safe.
And I'm not sure I can let him risk himself. He means too much. He means too much to me.
I startle at the soft knock on my door, clearing my throat, fixing my wet curls. "Come in," I call, my voice a little absent.
Eris enters gently, an odd look on his face. He probably has taken notice that I've been avoiding him since our conversation. "You hungry?" He asks, smiling sweetly. I feel it then, the emptiness in my stomach, like my body had forgot to tell me that I needed to eat.
"Starving," I respond, looking down at my robe, scrunching my nose. "But I don't want to get dressed in real clothes."
He chuckles, sitting down beside me, taking my hand. "Winnow us to the kitchen. I adjusted the wards, and I want to make sure they work for you."
Reaching for the thrill of magic in my bones, I do, snapping us into his cherry oak kitchen. I don't drop his hand when we arrive- I can't bring myself to. Instead, I look out the massive panel of glass at the view beyond, smiling a bit despite myself.
"It's no wonder you kept this place a secret," I chuckle, admiring the artistic touches that went into the very frame of the window, the luster of the stone counters, the arch of the ceiling. "If it were mine, I wouldn't let anyone see it either."
I glance back at him, but already, he's frowning. "It's ours," he says quietly. "It's just as much yours as it is mine."
"But you built it," I point out. "I couldn't encroach on something so sacred and personal to you."
He laughs quietly, my fingers still clasped in his. "Do you remember what I told you about using magic? About how all creation comes from somewhere within as well as beyond?" He asks me, waiting for my nod. He smiles then, tugging me towards the living room, my appetite forgotten until I lay my eyes upon his looming apple tree that twists and sparkles over the canopy of the room. Hunger pushes as my gut as he reaches up to pick me one of the infinite ripe apples, red and crisp. I smile in return as I take a bite.
"This house- and every bit of design about it- was made with different parts of myself. Usually, the magic I used was from things like my hands or my head, but this tree..." he trails off, laying an affectionate hand on the trunk, still gripping my fingers with the other. "I don't call this the heart of the home for nothing. This tree might be the only living proof that I have a heart yet."
I pause my chewing, swallowing abruptly. "I'm eating your heart?"
He laughs, leaning against the bark casually as he looks at me from the side of his profile. "It doesn't hurt me the same way it doesn't hurt you when the wind disrupts your storm. The things made are still related to my being, but they don't harm me to be enjoyed," he chuckles, tipping his head against the tree. "Besides, even if it was my heart, I gave it to you freely."
My breath lodged in my throat, the apple beginning to taste sweeter. When I was younger, I used to observe father, hoping to be like him in some twisted fantasy that I might actually make him like me. I must've been less than ten when I overheard him plotting to kill one of Hybern's military advisors that opposed him, but I recall him so vividly now saying that it's best to cover the bitterness of poison with something sweet.
"If I went to your father tonight," he says, chewing on his lip, guilt shining in his eyes. "Could I ever convince you not to follow?"
Abruptly, I drop his hand, laughing incredulously. "Of fucking course," I say to myself, shaking my head as I back away, downright cackling. Am I just a joke to him? Does he think he can just flirt and foster me until I'm ready to ignore his safety? Until I'm ready to let him go and fight his battles alone? "I should've known-"
"Neph," he grabs my hand, not letting me walk away. His eyes are wide and desperate as I look at him, fighting every urge to crumble and fold into his command.
"You can't seriously think that would fly with me, Eris," I laugh helplessly. "You think I would let you go off alone and put yourself into danger at the hands of my father? You think I would just sit idly back while you risk your life to keep the peace? We're a team- as per these stupid little rings we where all the time." I wag my wedding ring in front of him sarcastically, but he grabs my hand, pulling me to his chest so sharply that I gasp.
"I know," he whispers, brushing my hair off my cheek gently before sweeping my feet off the floor, cradling my body in his arms. Despite my surprise, I downright melt. "That's why it hurts even more to have done this to you."
I'm too frozen to react. I'm too frozen to understand until the apple rolls out of my hands. Until my body goes limp. All I can control is my face which is somewhere between shock and disappointment and fury.
He fucking drugged me, and he's going to get himself killed to keep me safe.
"I'll never forgive you for this," I manage as my lips start to numb, my eyes start to flutter shut even as I force them to bare into the guilty amber of his gaze.
"I know," he responds, shocking me further. "But you'll be awake in a week, and you'll be safe. And even if you hate me for the rest of your long, happy life, I won't live to regret this."
Even if I could speak, I wouldn't have a thing to say. I wouldn't know what words to speak. All I can do is let my head roll towards his chest as I fall unconscious, hoping that my touch haunts him for the rest of the week.
Hoping that he lives to come back to me so that I can make good on my promise of never forgiving him.