Exquisite Poison (Original Draft)

Chapter 86 - The Final Apology

Hera stepped forward, the expression on her face turned wondrous. "My great King, allow me to apologize to you. I did not think that you would have need of the possession of so - ill fitting a form. Please, would it make you more amiable, to be able to assume a form of your own choosing?"

She did not wait for an answer, simply rose her hand aloft.

In the next moment, Netta felt as she was falling, then felt as something - two rather large somethings - caught her. The feeling of being caught seemed to rouse her, as she felt, simultaneously, what felt like the darkness that had possessed her leaving.

It was as though she was startled awake from a nightmare that felt as though it were covered in layers of gossamer. Netta gasped, twisting, looked up in time to see the face of a great Monster. Its contorted face for a moment stalled her from recognizing it as belonging to her husband.

"A-Ash -"

He looked terrible. It was as though a rage had once, long ago, transformed him into a beast, his face contorted, with heavy, sharp teeth bared.

But, oh, how was it possible that as she gazed at the most flawed version of him that Netta was certain that she had never felt as in love with him as she did, then?

And then the ancient King spoke, cradling his most treasured disciple in his arms as he stood, nude, before the woman who stood for everything he loathed.

"You think to mock me? I am finished with your talking, I'll only listen to your screaming."

Hera's smile faded slightly, but she seemed to be no less amused by what she was seeing, her eyes twinkling. It occurred to Netta, with a shiver, that this, more than any other moment that she had ever watched her Mother in, that this was what the woman was made for.

Hera spoke after a moment, as though she had carefully collected her thoughts. "My King, do you think that I mean to mistreat you? That could be the only reason to account for your attitude towards me. I would never clip your antlers," she seemed to find this funny, for Netta gave a tiny, delicate snicker. "I would only ask that you think of your people, think of them and what you can do to improve not just the lot of my kind, but yours."

Ash had been quiet, but Netta could feel his body, tensing with her words. Tense with barely withheld anger, lashing and bright.

And then Ash spoke, his arms wrapping tighter around Netta, pressing her to him, as though he meant to absorb her. "How could you ever hope to entertain the thought that somehow you would have anything of worth to offer me?"

Hera's smile broadened. "But, dear King, you're holding my offering right now."

Netta thought she was going to be sick. She already knew, somehow, what Hera was about to say, but hearing the woman say it - admit to it in this manner - felt like the ultimate betrayal.

Ash, she knew, could feel the sharp stab of the betrayal, even if it was only the last of many that she had suffered.

He spoke, raising Netta so that her face was pressed to the hollow at his throat before he let her slide back so that she could turn to gaze at her mother. "Netta is not some sacrificial offering. She is my chosen wife." The way that the Monster bit that last word out, Netta could feel the emotion in it. How, if even for a moment, the beating heat of his anger was lifted by some softer emotion, almost like a hush.

Hera seemed to think this over for a moment, then tapped her forehead. "Mmm. I see. You've already decided to become permanently trussed to this one? Even if she was just meant to be some means of baiting your power, fanning it to its greatest flames?" When Ash was silent for some time, Hera continued, her voice unchanging from the almost good humor in it. "If you're going to make me blunt, then I can be. I want you to come to me, willingly, denounce her."