So this is a background information for the novel I have just finished. “The Girl Who Cried Fae.” It isn’t part of the story and yet I feel like it should be so I am sharing it with you. The book is written in 1st person with Cel (or as she calls herself Kathryn) as the person living through the events.
But this is Jacque, the man she desperately tries to save. This is a part of his story and I think it turned out quite well. It is rough form so don’t judge it too heavily 🙂 Enjoy.
Alone in a blackened room with nothing but a pinhole of light coming from the crack in the lock as company was a man. It was only when that company of light disappeared and the room went completely dark that he knew his torture was about to begin. He hung by his wrists in metal shackles made of iron. If he had been anything but a pure-blooded Sidhe his wrists would have burned clean off by now. However, he was a pure-blooded Sidhe so the shackles burned into his skin and they did not heal but they did not rot either. His shoulders slumped out of place long ago and he did not even bother moving his fingers to stimulate circulation of his blood. Now it just caused more pain to his numb arms than relief.
“Cel, oh Cel what have I done.”
“Hello? Whose there.” A voice returned to him. A voice, he must have broken. They must have finally won. Maybe under it all he would give into them, maybe he knew the answer they sought. Maybe this was another trick.
“If you are who I just called than you know who I am.”
“Hearing voices again, Kat, pull yourself together. The voice doesn’t exist.”
“I exist, but do you?”
“See! My mind is even agreeing with us. We are crazy.”
“Cel?” Emotion vibrated off his voice. How could it be her? She has been dead for more than a thousand years. He witnessed her death. He saw her agony as he held her in his arms. Memories flashed in his mind. Memories he had long wished to forget. Her hair cascading down his body when they were in war, her naked body against his as the only thing protecting them from the cold inside their humble tent was the furs upon the ground and their body heat. Hot breath against skin, passion overriding all sense. The scene changed in his mind to one of them riding side by side the next day on battle, her armor of silver as her long, almost white hair came out in a long strand in the back of her helmet, her hands holding onto the reins of her horse as her two double swords rested in their sheaths on her back. She was stunning, beyond stunning the way he remembered her. Then another memory ripped through his mind. This time it was pain, agony. It was a different woman. No it was the same woman, a different face, different body. She still had the same eyes. She wasn’t fae, not entirely. A group of men surrounded her. Fear ripped through his mind from hers, as they ripped off her clothes and teeth ripped into her skin. He screamed against them, enraged to what they were doing. Hatred for them poured out of his veins, out of his soul. They had smelled what she was, she was fae and they wanted to eat her alive.
He head soft sobs filling his mind. “Jacque.” She whispered. It was like a candle in the dark, the eternal flame that kept him alive.
“Oh my sweet Celyn. I am here.” He felt a warmness surround him, he felt her arms wrap around his body. They were closer than blood. He let him mentally hold her back and he felt her sigh against his chest. He closed his eyes and he saw her in a tiny apartment. She was so young, so brand new. She still had the stitches on her arm from the attack.
“Jaque, I have missed you so much. Why did you leave me?”
“Oh Cel. I never left, we just got a little lost is all.” He felt heat soak back into him. Part of him that died was coming back to life. He was going to escape and be with her no matter what it took.
“Where are you?”
“I am someplace you should never come, my sweet one.” he kissed her forehead with the gentlest of touches and she looked up right into his eyes and he felt her press her lips to his. With centuries of being alone his body roared to life. Even if it was just a thought in his head, her magic and his together were making the sensations real. This was a worse torture than anything had been done to him. Now he craved her flesh underneath his hands, her lips pressed against hers, to see her smile in person and the beautiful blue eyes he would never forget.
She pulled away. “I am sorry. I am crazy. I am kissing a spirit. I am kissing my imagination. This can’t be real.”
“Please, don’t stop.’ He pulled her face back into his and kissed her, harder. He knew she closed her eyes because the picture got clearer, the sensations more intense. He tasted the salt of her teas upon his lips, over his tongue.
“You cut your hair.” Her fingers played with the brown rags left upon his head. He tried to change the appearance of himself in front of her. At least he wasn’t covered in bruises and his body didn’t look in ruins to her. All of a sudden his view of her was different. It was the old Cel, not her new body, her new form.
“You were beautiful just the way you were. Why do you change your appearance to me?”
“I am not nearly as beautiful as her. I don’t want you seeing me like this.”
“I don’t want you seeing me like this either.”
“You look like a god, and trust me I have met a few of them to know.”
“I do not look like a god.” A laugh filled his mind.
“Oh Jaque. What happened to the cocky guy that knew he was hot shit?”
“Hot shit? I do not think I was a pile of dung.” She shook her head in his mind’s eye as her eyes sparkled with laughter.
“It means, the best, the most attractive, the most wanted.”
“Oh. Yes there was a time I felt that way.”
“Jaque. Nothing they could have done to you would have made you any less than beautiful.”
“What do you know about what I have been through?”
“They blamed you for my death didn’t they?” Silence.
“Where are you Jaque?”
“I am not at liberty to discuss that with you.” Suddenly his eyes were open, he was looking around the room but it wasn’t him. What the hell kind of powers did she gain during these lifetimes.
“Jaque. What are they doing to you?” Silence filled the empty space. Silence he had gotten used to and now it just seemed dead, like heaviness was pressing against him.
“Jaque, please don’t ignore me.”
“They aren’t doing anything.” It wasn’t a lie. They weren’t doing anything this moment, later they probably would be but now they were not touching him.
“That is too close to a lie, even for you.”
“They aren’t. I give you my word.”
“What have they done to you?” A harder question to answer without directly lying.
“Nothing I cannot handle my sweet Cel.”
“I will find a way to get you out of there, Jaque.”
“What happened to the Ice Queen who would never go back for a fallen man.”
“I am not her. I will save you Jaque.” And with those final words before the light went dark he had hope. He blocked her out from his mind, completely and fully. He didn’t want her to feel the pain he was about to experience, the torture he endured for her. The new Ice Queen would want to know that she was alive, and he feared for Cel’s life when she did.