Mocking

He shouldn't be there. He knew that. Shouldn't have crossed the line between the Realm and Nightmare. Shouldn't have sought the Prince's permission to visit her room. Shouldn't now be leaning in her doorway, watching her.

She hissed when she saw him. Shrieked and ran at him, fists clawed. It was easy to fight her off. A woman's rage, and little else. She threw no magic at him. He wondered if she could, here.

"Bastún," she snarled at him. "Plá ar do theach!"

"You already did that, didn't you?" His smile was cruel. "Or, well. You tried."

"I succeeded," she said, calming suddenly. "You won this round. Sent your friends in and saved her once. Doesn't mean the striapach is safe."

"Pot. Kettle, Fuamnach. Watch your language," he said mildly.

She spit in his face.

He backhanded her, almost casually, then pulled out a handkerchief to wipe the saliva away while she lay on the ground.

"You've lost." He was still too quiet, and that made her wary. "Do you know why you're here in Nightmare instead of back in that hole of a world we put you in?"

She was silent, staring back at him with murder in her eyes. Her tongue darted out to lick the bit of blood on her lip.

"Because of her," he said, crouching down to look in her eyes. "Because of her mercy. Because she can forgive you for the millenia of pain you visited on her."

He sat back on his heels, let her digest that.

She sneered. "She's a fool as well as a whore, then."

He just smiled, though there was no warmth in his eyes. "She's a lady. She's a Queen. A far better Queen for my people than you ever were. You with your selfishness. Your vanity. Your whoring ways. I don't even know how many of our children are mine..."

She hissed again. "Ciach ort! I was a good Queen and you know it. Half of your people followed me when you cast me aside. And I was faithful to you until you left our bed."

"Lying little whore," he snarled back, before remembering himself, standing. "You lifted your skirt for anything with a cock, be it Sidhe, man or beast. You defiled yourself. You defiled my house. My name. I should have tossed you aside centuries before I did."

She paled a bit at that. "Liar..." It was almost a whisper. "I loved you."

"You loved being Queen. You loved the power it gave you. You loved what I could do to you in bed. You never loved me." His lip curled in a sneer. "And Danu. How could I ever love such a thing as you? You've lost, Fuamnach. Accept it and find some way to live with yourself. Come after her ever again, and all the forgiveness she has to offer won't save you."

The lie of it hit her, hard. The curl of his lip, the coldness in his eyes. They fell so easily from him, lie after lie, cutting into her. That they were enemies now she'd accepted millenia before. But to deny the truth of what was, when they lived and loved only for each other...

Fuamnach swallowed back the tears. Weakness. She stood shakily, then lifted her head, pride keeping her chin up.

"Go mbeire an diabhal leis thú, you lying cac ar oineach," she said without inflection.

He leaned in close to her, and kissed her, a cold parody of passion. His lips slid to her ear, nibbled there, tongue teasing, until one hand clutched at his sleeve.

He kissed her once more, hard and deep, then pushed her away so fast she stumbled.

"I'm sure he will. But you first, cailleach."

He left without looking back.

( Gaelic Translations )