Her: “This wouldn’t be so uncomfortable for you, if you just yielded to me and served me like you serve [him].”
Me: “Yea… Well… Being electrocuted tends to make one a little surly and resentful of one’s captor, you know. As uncomfortable as this is, yielding to you would be worse. Besides… I don’t belong to [him]. Wait. You’re fae.”
Her: “What of it.”
Me: “The fuck do the fae have to do with [him]? You want me to submit, but I don’t even know who you are.”
Her: “Your master. That’s all you need to know.”
Me: “Such an unkind one at that. You’ve hijacked nearly every scenario since I settled into the Nagalands tonight. You’ve placed children in harm’s way so I would rescue them and fall into your trap. You’ve poisoned me, shocked me, slammed me against nettles and needles, injected acid in my blood, and now you have me hanging off butcher hooks. For what? You want the respect I give to [him]? You’ve guaranteed it will never happen.”
Her: “I don’t want your respect, I want your [loyalty]!”
Me: ~laughs so hard a loose piece of lung flies out my mouth~
Her: “Yield to me or I will rip you to pieces!” ~throws lightning into my body~ ~stops when she realizes I’m absorbing what she’s throwing~ What?
Me: “Seelie or Unseelie?”
Her: “Why aren’t you in pain?”
Me: “Seelie? Or Unseelie? You’re not a local fae of where my sleeping body lies. You’re not connected to [him] or to any related pantheons. You are definitely of a European flavor, but you are not a wight, nor a troll. Not a brownie, not an elf, and not any flavor of alfar. You keep presenting yourself to me in a way that reminds me of [Alphonse] Mucha’s paintings. Americanized High Fae quit that presentation because folks kept getting them mixed up with British Isles High Fae. So. Seelie? Or Unseelie?”
Her: “You eat pain.”
Me: “I eat a lot of things. Been nibbling on patience thus far.” ~wrenches herself off the butcher hooks and falls to the floor~ “My blood is cooling. Seelie, Unseelie… or Rogue. Who did you piss off to flee the courts and so are trying to force me into servitude to protect you? Queen Mab? The Day Queen? The Stone Knight? The Sightless Lord?” ~trying to rise but too weak from blood loss~
Her: ~approaching with swagger~ “You can’t even defend yourself. I was wrong to think you would be of advantage to me.” ~stops just short of the blood puddle~
Me: ~struggling to speak~ “You have expended a great amount of power chasing and abusing me and you have been cut off from where you usually juice up. You have no mark of loyalty. You belong to no court. You’re not branded with the [mark that declares the entity is not to be harmed by order of a Court]. If you were to disappear tonight, no one would even notice.”
Her: “Are you threatening me? You can’t even turn over.” ~takes her foot and pushes against my shoulder, turning me over on my back and splattering blood everywhere~
Me: ~laughing and gurgling~ “Oops. Got blood on you. Didn’t they teach you at court, the dangers of mortal blood?”
Her: “You’re dying. Not much more, and your waking body will be affected as well.”
Me: “Didn’t they tell you at court, to know your enemy before you engage?”
Her: ~stops smiling~ ~throws lightning into me again but it is considerably weaker~
Me: “I eat pain. But I feel no more pain. I’m hungry. Feed me.”
Her: ~turns to run but the blood on her clothes suddenly cling together and she falls, hobbled~
Me: ~transforming as I turn over unhindered~ “Here, let me tell you the name the Little Ones call me… ” ~darkens to matte black, absorbs the blood surrounding me, stands to a significant height while ink black wings stretch out behind me~ “Unmaker.”
Her: ~shrieks while she is ripping off her clothes to escape the blood binds~ “No! No! I’m sorry! I didn’t know! I just wanted a mortal pet! I’ll make amends! I’ll find souls to feed you! DON’T COME NEAR ME! I’M SORRY MOTHER MAKE HER STOP!” ~the blood burns her hands~
Me: Mother? “You have no mother. No court mark. Exile. Tell me, what was your sin against the court that you were ejected for it? Maybe if you tell me your pain, it will be enough to sate my hunger.” ~takes hold of her ankle~ ~sees movement in the far shadows~
Her: “MOTHER! OH MOTHER! I’M SORRY! LET ME COME BACK! DON’T LET [THE DEVOURER] EAT ME!”
Me: ~addressing the lurker in the shadows~ “I wish no quarrel with the courts. I see no mark [of salvation] on her. If she is not lawfully mine, I will release her. But if I take her, and she was not mine to take, then the debt is on your head for not telling me now.”
Lurker: “I accept. She is yours to take.”
Her: “You! You’re from [unintelligible]! Strike her down! She dares to touch me! ME! I am…”
Lurker: “You are nothing. I am here only to witness. Unmaker. Do with her what you will.”
Me: ~wary of traps~ “And if I do nothing?”
Lurker: “I can feel your hunger even here. You won’t do nothing. She has pushed you too far.”
Me: “So. Once again I am an unwilling servant. Very well then. I shall be true to what I am.” ~falls upon the fae as a breaking wave of animated decay~
I woke up feeling quite well and full. It took a bit before I realizes I was completely disinterested in food or coffee. Who would have thought such a small form would be so filling.