'If I could Melt Your Heart.'

Oisín went to bed almost directly after dinner. He was tired and practically stumbling over his own feet as he tugged me along to his bedroom. I'd oo'd and ah'd at all his toys and trinkets. It's oddly disjointed to find toys; wooden blocks, pretend swords, spinning-tops, and even a rocking horse. I suppose I never imagined how faerie children lived. Clearly not unlike human ones.

He'd crawled into bed and I let him read to me from the book. It was mostly just him pointing at pictures and making up complete nonsense, but I listened. I had too, it's the only thing keeping me half sane. But, he exhausted himself and was out cold in under twenty minutes. Maybe less, but I stayed with him, swaddling him in his blankets and tucking a teddy under his arm, before leaving quiet as a mouse. Though, I did not return to the dining room.

Instead, I'm back in my room, curled on the armchair that I've repositioned to look toward the windows and the vast world beyond. Rain patters hard on the glass and leaves distorted streaks of water where it trickles the length of the wide windows. The fire continues to crackle from the hearth, some kind of magic feeding it. The lights dim and peaceful and I wonder if it's Ardan or Niamh controlling the room. Doesn't seem to matter, they both appear to wield magic how a human would blink, or draw breath, so easy, almost instinctual. I can't help but stare at the candlesticks gracing the far window, focusing intently on the flames, admittedly testing to see if it's true ... if part of that magic is in me now ... but embarrassingly there's nothing, not even a flicker of the flames. I'm ashamed to admit to the guts of an hour I've spent trying to make fire, or light, or even a puff of smoke.

With irritation I slam my hands on the arms of my chair and lurch out of it to pace. If I can't demonstrate basic magic no one will believe my cover story. If Naisi was disowned for a few scars I can't imagine what they'd do to a non-magic faerie.

The thoughts cause the pain in my chest to tighten once again and my breath starts to lessen. I scratch the skin of my chest and throat, then claw the hair from my face, gulping at air that just isn't there.

Darkness. The room becomes dark, the shadows growing long and yawning into a gaping void. I squeeze my eyes shut.

"It's not real," I hiss and clutch my ears.

The rain seems to drum faster, the breeze whipping harder against the glass.

"Stop."

I shake my head and curl into myself. The shadows slithering closer, wrapping around my feet, my ankles. I cover my mouth to prevent the scream. My one freed ear picking up the howls of the wind. The crash of the waves. The squeal of brakes. The keen of metal buckling.

"Please. Stop."

There's no air left. I can't breathe. I can't get air down. I clatter to the floor, the contents of my stomach crawling up my throat.

Out. Get outside.

The balcony doors. They're three feet in front of me and it feels like a mile but I throw myself at them, landing my weight on the handle and bursting into the fresh air.

Fresh. Sweet. Clean air. I gasp it in. Closing my eyes and tilting my head back to feel the rain patter on my face while the quiet breeze breathes a cool hand over my burning cheeks. I catch the wrought iron railings and lean my head on the cold metal, breathing in and out in slow, deep, breaths until I can trust my senses again.

I slide down the railings, an odd sense of fatigue overcoming my bones, and continue to lean my head there, one hand wrapped around a spindle. Instead of focusing on the far-reaching expanse of world—which is just a tad too much for my overwhelmed mind to comprehend right now—I become transfixed with the climbing ivy that rings the iron spindles. I get lost in how it sways in the breeze. I become even more hypnotized when it curls and twists its way around my hand and along my arm until it rests on my shoulder.

It's not restrictive. It's comforting.

Another few branches twine around my hair and back, draping over my body and curling around my feet. It's about then that I register the voice had returned to my head. The previously empty space felt occupied again, He's quiet, but I don't think I'm alone.

"Thank you," I whisper, curling into the leafy embrace, and taking another deep breath for good measure. "Where'd you go?"

Just when I think I might have imagined him that gentle breeze brushes a sweet-scented caress over my face and I stiffen at the sensation. There's no amusement in the feeling in my head, more relief.

I'm everywhere.

For added effect my blanket of ivy thickens, covering my bear feet and ankles.

"I though you couldn't come here?"

I'm not here. Am I?

I scowl. "No, you're just a figment of my imagination."

Amusement, and maybe I am dreaming it but something like laughter skitters across my skin. It makes me shiver, not from the cold, which further deepens my frown.

"You never answered either of my questions. Where'd you go? And how are you here?"

Silence. I sigh and shrug. Fine. If he doesn't want to talk, I don't have to entertain him. So, like the petulant child I am, I close my eyes and rest my head on the railing again. It takes a few minutes and I can sense a tension, like static, in the air. He doesn't like being ignored. It takes all my strength not to smirk.

You needed me.

It's more like a disinterested statement in my head. I raise both brows. "I didn't ask for help," More fraught silence. I press my lips into a thin line. "Is being a live-in mental shrink part of our bargain?"

I don't understand your words.

He sounds genuinely confused and I snort laughter. Sitting upright, I draw my knees to my chest and continue to grin.

You're...laughing?

"You amuse me." His astonishment is mildly offensive but I never once considered use of modern phrases my own personal weapon of choice against Naisi's mental intrusions.

You should rest.

The finality of his tone pulls me up short and wipes the grin from my face.

"What, so I can't laugh at you now? You get to pop into my head whenever you feel like it but I can't laugh?"

No.

The word clangs in my mind and I rip out of the ivy leaves and haul myself up on the iron railings. Glaring at thin air, I shake my head.

"Then leave me alone. Stay out of my head."

No. I meant ... please don't push me out.

That's new. I pause and stare at nothing feeling the ivy creep over my feet.

"Push you out?" I say and twist on the railing. "You left me? You got your way and pissed off to gods know where and left me ... with your son, by the way ... and apparently a kingdom that might just kill me if I can't convince them I'm ..." My brows crunch and I run my fingers over the puckered skin. What exactly am I trying to convince them of? What exactly am I supposed to be? With a groan I slam my fists to my sides. "I don't know what the hell I am?"

The constricting of my chest starts again as I smack a hand on the iron and cling to the railing. My breath quickening.

Breathe, Clara. Peace.

"I am breathing," I snarl and claw my fingers so tight around the railings that my knuckles turn white.

You pushed me out. He sounds disgruntled at the action. I haven't left you. If you had of let me in I might've guided you with the council. I was screaming. I ... he trails off, contemplating, and then ... you didn't know?

"Know what?" I spit, brows furrowed at nothing but thin air and ivy leaves slowly crawling their way back over my shoulders. One lone leaf brushing my cheek.

You didn't realise what you were doing ... how could you?

I bristle at the condescending tone, flinching from the leaf. "Are you saying I magically blocked you? Because, that's just a classic level of self-sabotage that's dying to be unpacked." I roll my eyes when the little leaf stills and retracts a little. "I get it you don't' understand the words?" I wave a hand in the air and sigh.

I may be ignorant to your ways but I think I gather the insinuation.

A few offended seconds tick by. I can sense his presence looming in the roomy spaces of my mind, waiting, he's not going to engage without an invite. I make a disgusted sound in my throat.

"Ugh ... alright ... what's your theory? How'd I manage to push the all powerful Naisi out of my head?"

All powerful? Another seductive laugh. No ... but close ... it's been awhile since I've had to work so hard.

"Well excuse me for causing you such trouble." I quirk a brow and fold my arms.

Trouble is an understatement. You've been causing me all kinds of ... disruptions. There's something sly to his words that makes me blush a little, and I clear my throat. You're not aware of your power. You're form is so new. It's alien. You need to discipline yourself.

"And how, pray tell, do I do that?"

I don't know if you noticed but you're talking to voice in your head ... you're doing it.

"Hilarious ... you know what I mean." I start tapping my foot.

Well ... it's not like I have a busy life these days.

"You want to teach me? You want to teach me magic?"

I'd prefer to not have my child's new nursemaid set fire to a room, or mentally imprison someone if she's having a bad day.

"I could do that?" The thought sends a thrill of fear through me.

Magic, as you call it, at its fundamental level is purely unchecked emotion. Learn to harness it and only the mother herself knows where your limits lie ... if any.

"I do believe limitless power is a bit of an exaggeration, I could barely tie up my own boots."

More delicious laughter rumbles in my mind, the odd warming sensation it causes in my chest is hard to ignore. So I duck my chin, merciful he isn't present and can't see my blush.

You don't give yourself enough credit ... ever-light,

"See ... that ... what does that mean?"

It means you've power ... unique power ... gifted to you for a purpose.

"What kind of purpose?"

What am I? An oracle?

I scowl and start tapping my foot again.

It's not for me to know, or even speculate, but your path will be evident to you when the timing is right.

"Great." I lean against the railing and chew my cheek. "The Seelie and their riddles."

Ah ... but life is a riddle.

"Well riddle me this ... how'd I suddenly let you back in to my mind if I've been blocking you for days? It's not like I'm any more or any less aggravated by you."

Charming ... and after all I do for you.

I don't bother with an answer. I can't say this is captivity, but it isn't exactly freedom. Still better than the alternative, though.

My best guess is your emotions were unravelling, it left you vulnerable, I was able to reach then. Before, it was like your mind did not want to feel . . . anything.

"Maybe I just didn't want to talk to you?"

Believe me, Clara, I am extremely persuasive. Wanting is irrelevant to me ... I can persuade a mind to want things it never knew it needed.

Every nerve ending on my skin feels exposed at the silky undertone of his words. I can almost sense himself wrap around my thoughts, caressing my memories, lulling me into a trance, making me forget. Until there's only this moment and one thought.

A wild and burning need to just be; to run until my legs gave out, to fight bare-fisted and with no restraint, to hunt, to dive into frigid water. The blood in my veins pumping hot and fierce, need coursing through a pulse coiling low and tight in my stomach. The need to feel skin hot and slick against mine ...

Then the world comes crashing back down upon me. I gasp in shock and cling to the railing like it's the only thing keeping me upright. I'm flushed scarlet and not sure whether I need to throw myself into a cold bath. Good gods above, that last memory a little too much to handle. My stomach quivers. I'm not an idiot, I know those were his thoughts. Not mine. He is wild. Everything about him is feral

What's wrong? Does nature offend you?

It would be a lie to say yes. It would be a lie to say I didn't want to go freely. That passionate wild freedom, with no regrets, no consequences, it is the most seductive sensation. And, selfishly, I'd be free. For a moment I'd be free of my own mind.

Those emotions are raw, Clara. Left unchecked and what kind of beast would I be?

I nod, understanding his point. If faerie magic is tied to their emotions and desires then unchecked it could be chaos ... deadly chaos.

I can help you. His voice turns low and gentle. To order your thoughts, channel what you're feeling. I promise there's enough power in you to convince these people that you're one of them.

"You sound so confident?" I give a breathless laugh, not quite recovered from the onslaught of moments before.

I've every confidence in the woman that can look death in the face and survive it.

Woman. He's called me a woman.

"Naisi?" I ask the nothingness.

Only charged silence answers. The only indication he's listening.

"Did ..." I draw in a breath and clutch my neck. "Do you think I—" the burning pain in my eyes is like needles and every breath rasps out of me as I stumble for the words. "Am I dead?"

It's not his words that answer. No voice rattling in my mind, but something else, something thick and heavy. Those tendrils of thought not belonging to me brush along my own, wrapping around them and holding them still. I don't know why but I start to weep. He doesn't need to speak, I already feel the ache in him at an answer there is no words for.

"I'm ..." I burrow my face into my hands, trying to catch the tears there, shamed by their presence even though there is no witness. "I'm dead aren't I? The human me, right? There is no going back for me."

You're alive. His voice is more like a faint croon and the ivy tightens its grip along my legs, as if rooting me. Not as you were, but alive.

"But, I can't go back? Not like this."

I run these strange new fingers over my finer features, the higher points of my cheeks, ghosting them over the delicate tips of ears, and then through thickened hair and finally to brush over skin. Smooth as satin skin that wraps up fortified steel bones, and muscles that withstand storms and punishing elements any mere human body would be ripped apart under. I should have been ripped apart. There's no way my frail human body would've survived those first few hours here. It wouldn't have survived the ocean let alone the trek to the caves. Yet, here I am. I don't know what crawled out of that violent abyss, but she isn't human, I'm not even sure she's faerie, but she's my skin, and bones, and mask. The only thing that feels like me is my mind. Even it seems roomier, vast, like caverns I might get lost in if I wander too far.

The thought has me hyperventilating again. I can't go back. Something raw and wild and beyond the laws of nature ripped me from myself, from everything I knew, and devoured me. Then spat me out ... as this ... for a purpose? What purposecan I give ancient gods. Forgotten gods. I am nothing.

Don't say that.

The frantic note to Naisi's voice rattles me and I still at the sensation of the ivy branches tightening at my limbs.

Don't ever think that. He's words are almost breathless as those tendrils of himself curl around the thought, as if could he smoother it.

"You can hear my thoughts?" I coil arms around my chest and bow into myself. "I thought you just felt my emotions."

Utter silence, and then he answers. It's ... complicated.

"Great," I take another deep breath and brush the slick, salty tears from my raw cheeks. "I've a spy listening to my inner conversations, aristocratic assholes watching my every move, and busy-body magic folk knocking me unconscious when they feel like it." I can't help the snarl as I half use my folded arms as a barrier to hold my heart in, it's heaviness like lead in my chest. "Is there any scrap of myself that I can keep?"

Clara

That voice, like a rasp of air that flutters through fallen leaves. I hate how it billows through my mind, and I hate how I want to respond. It isn't his fault that I am what I am, whatever that is, but I can't take this powerlessness.

"Please," I murmur, leaning against the handle of the balcony door. "Please just ..." I don't know what I can ask? He can't leave. I need him to teach me. Oisín is his son, he has motivation to be here. But, I can't do this. I can't have every part of me stripped bare.

I won't. I promise you I don't listen.

Again a frantic undertone laces his words. Like he's desperately trying to hold onto his place in my mind. I pause, confused by the near concern in the quietness of his voice.

Some thoughts ... his words grind out like it's difficult for him. Some of your feelings are so strong I can hear the thought. It's complicated. You shouldn't—we shouldn't—be able to communicate like this. There's been no one so sensitive to my presence. And ...

He stumbles over the words and I liken it to his stumbling in the forest. Something about me overpowers him, and though that should fill me with some kind of smug thrill, it only terrifies me. For if this beast struggles with whatever is inside me, how the will I ever contain it.

... Clara, do not alarmed by it. I—we—will figure this out. I can protect you. But you must trust I mean you no harm.

"I can't trust that." I dig my fingers into the flesh of my arms. "I don't even know you."

No. And I do not know you but I would trust you with my blood.

A vision of Oisín stirs in my mind. It takes me a minute to realise it's not any of my memories. The boy in this image is a little younger. Just Oisín sitting a woven rug in the garden below us, familiar voices floating about him, but he's not listening to them he's staring toward me... no, Naisi, for this is his memory ... and then he's on his feet and pelting for us, for Naisi, eyes so bright and filled with recognition. I feel the collision of the child's embrace like it's happening to me, feel the warmth, the sense of home. And the emotions surrounding the image are so strong they nearly knock the wind from me. Some fierce desire to protect that's so single-minded it's honed to a sharp clarity. Naisi will kill for Oisín. He'll bring down legions for the child. Level mountains for his blood. His son. The possessiveness is unshakable.

If you cannot trust anything, then trust the bargain we struck for my son. Trust my love for him. I will not harm a hair on your head, Clara, not a single one for his sake. And, I will tear apart any soul that threatens you ... do you understand?

I nod, but ask albeit a little breathlessly, "why?"

Because you were ready to die for him. Because I cannot repay that.

There's something more. Something he won't say, maybe intrigue for what I am, maybe just a cautious bet that an ever-light might be a useful tool. I don't know, but I do trust that fierce love, and I have to admit Oisín is literally my only friend, or at least the only one I trust.

"Well, he kind of saved me," I mutter. "Your boy ... he's very brave."

More than you know. More than he should have to be.

Tears. His voices sounds like tears. "Why don't you let him go to you? Or, you come to him?"

I can't. I won't risk it.

"Why?" I push and know it's probably foolish to aggravate him. "He's crying out for you. He needs you."

I won't speak of this further. A cool finality rings to his statement and I stiffen. It is little business of yours.

"Right ... I'm just here to ensure his wellbeing," I reply, hefting enough sarcasm to the words that I hope he gets the underlying thought. Coward.

A snarl. I suppose it's meant to scare me but it only serves to hold my resolve.

"Then at least let me help you communicate with him," I suggest, in a light a tone as possible. "Something small, anything to give him hope, and keep him out of the forest. You can't possibly want him running off like that again?" Silence ensues, contemplative so I push a little further. "You need to understand that not even I can hold him here. He is determined to reach you. If you can't see him, then give him something, Naisi. Give a little here."

He's pissed at the comment. That I would ask anything off him. I can sense it in the way his essence crawls around the corners of my mind, circling, contemplating, weighing the merits. So, I wait.

Another bargain then?

He's so pleased with himself I can nearly hear the purr in the suggestive undertone to his question. I raise both brows, and wait. This should be good.

I'll give ... if you let me teach you?

"That's it?" I sputter, admittedly in relief, I might've been expecting a hefty price tag.

That's it. That's all I ask.

"Done," I say with shrug.

Good. Now, first lesson ... shielding.

"What? Now?" I glance around at the darkness of night, it's late. Very late.

I do recall you said something about busy-bodies knocking you unconscious against your will? So, unless you want Ardan to spin another sleep spell that you cannot resist ... I suggest you start learning shielding.

"You knew about that?"

I can sense it off you. Other's magic. He sounds disgusted by it, like it's an unwanted scent. A sleep spell is nothing, skilled healers can knock out a gifted and hardened warrior, it's not a malevolent spell as such, at least not the kind Ardan used.

"So, I guess since I'm not a warrior I assume Ardan didn't need any special gifts to snare me?" I click my tongue and scowl in the general vicinity of downstairs.

A faerie child has more shielding ability than you do. You're as vulnerable as a newborn. Amusement laces his statement and my scowl only deepens. Imagine what someone with less noble intent could do to such a vulnerable soul?

"I kept you out of my head well enough." I smirk at the cold pause.

Entirely different.

"How?" I demand.

I'm no common faerie. Not some lord or princeling. I am the wild ... don't presume I can't overcome your unchecked emotions.

"You don't know?" I laugh at the realisation. "You don't know how I kept you out for so long. So I am shielding ... but you don't know how I can shield from you?"

Stony silence leaks through my mind. It's enough to send a shiver through my spine and every hair on my body stands on end as that wild thing stalks the corridors of my mind. A predator in the shadows.

"Alright, keep your secrets and musings," I mutter and quirk a brow. "But, I still shielded against you."

The fact you don't know how only presents how inept you are.

"Still shielded against the Wild itself," I retort and squeeze my lips together to suppress a snigger.

Himself. I'm not so far gone that I don't know who or what I am.

"I know," I say, because he needs that reassurance. I saw it in his eyes in the forest that day. The lost look of a soul not quite convinced it's wholly there. "I'm sorry."

My apology seems to quieten him. The stalking sensation and he returns to that thick presence that's almost soothing, like a blanket.

It's ... fine. No apologies necessary.

His flippancy is almost endearing. It's the oddly human part—if I can call it that—of him that makes him so disarming. Like, under this terrifying beast, and this powerful title he might just be very ... normal ... maybe even shy. At the very least he doesn't seem be sure of himself, at least not in a scenario where he can't call upon that power and title.

"So ... shielding ... where do I start?" I plant my hands on my hips and face away from the door, staring out into the vast, dark horizon. The moon nothing more than a veiled shadow, it's beams just a haze beyond on the thick clouds.

We begin with silence. 

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A/N: So, as per my update on my profile. Big News coming regarding this story. I wanted to have more of an update regarding that for you buuuuut things are slow in publishing at the moment. Alls good though. 

ALL THAT BEING SAID. You guys are life blood of this story so please never underestimate your input. It's vital. I'm trying to capture as much from the original novel as I can, but with the intention of merging it was new content and making the story even better. A 2.0 UPGRADE so to speak. So anywhere you guys want to see something or think I've missed something from the OG fanfic chime in there and I'll see what can be worked with. 

Do we like the name Niamh for Oliel??? Because something I think - since i totally made up the name Oliel - I might just keep it as is, buuuuuut does that through off the vibe/feel of the story?

Anyhoo. That's all folks. I really enjoyed writing this chapter. Naisi is so bold. 

Media: Madonna: Frozen Sicktok Remix - true story, Madonna's OG version of this song I have tucked away in Thranduil/Naisi playlist folder. Gotta say the sicktok remix works well for dark Naisi vibes, don't you think?