Lugh slept, and dreamt, of many confusing things. The hunger tore at him and when he awoke in a foul mood to the tune of, Who wants to live forever, it got even fouler. "Really?!" His voice was loud and angry. "Really? Of all the songs you could be singing you choose this? I could just wring your neck you ill sounding son of a..."
"Sorry" Nuada looked over his shoulder at a hollow eyed and really cranky looking Lugh. "I did not think, it just came to me, did I wake you?"
"No, but really, that song...? "
"I sang Sound of silence before that one"
"That at least suits your voice, ballads aren't really your thing you know, singing is not really your thing... but I suppose under the circumstances it makes sense. You're as lovesick for her as a youngling and as dramatic as you ever where. She will be there when we get back... Now if you could just refrain from singing I will be eternally greatfull." He went to stand, staring out of a window in the mound and when Nuada said nothing he thought he might have made him pissed at him. Fine, fine, then we will both be pissed he thought. Great, wonderful. Hunger.... Tearing, wild hunger. Thirst, feeling parched like a dessert. Need, need so sharp it twisted in him like knives.
Nuada stood further into the mound looking at Lughs back, the tense muscles, the dark hair in an unkempt mass over his shoulders, from tossing and turning in sleep. And he had to admit Lugh was right, he missed Alvhilde, missed her enough to sing ballads of love never to be... He was right pathetic wasn't he? But... somehow, still, now with Lugh in his life again he had felt, he had been able to let some of what he felt out, in a song yes, that maybe Lugh had a good influence over him. Made him feel more himself. He knew Lugh wanted to be left alone and would have left him to brood had he not known, felt his need to feed like a knife-edge at his throat.
Lugh felt the hand on his bare shoulder and it sent a jolt through him, of pain and hunger and he growled, actually growled. "Leave me alone"
"I would but for your hunger Brother. You have waited too long, I can feel it, I know what it is, what it does, how it feels... You must feed..."
"I don't know that I can" Not as gently as before, not as civilized. Why had he not fed again the night before? Because it was difficult and made him feel, feel so much, too much. "I don't know that I can" He repeated.
"You must. Here" Nuada reached his arm over Lughs shoulder, blood dripping from a small wound that he had made himself. "I know its tearing at you, if you wait longer you won't be able to control it, its early days yet, you need a lot. Please Lugh, drink!" He said when Lugh did not move." I am sorry for not giving you enough before, please drink... Or you will go mad with it"
Lugh could not move, holding on to the edge of the window where he stood, his knuckles white, he held his breath, and he averted his eyes. Away from the blood. Do not smell the blood. "Its... to late... " He managed before he grabbed Nuadas hand and pulling on it drew him around so they faced each other, Nuadas back to wall and window, he went straight for the jugular, could not help it, could not stop it. Holding on, biting hard, drinking deep. Mad, yes, mad for the blood, need so strong, so deep it overruled everything else. And the taste, the warmth, drinking it down feeling it ease him, ease the need, ease the madness... And when the madness lifted the struggle began. He needed more blood but was appalled, ashamed at what he had done, was doing, he had to stop.
Nuada could have stopped him, or at least tried to, fought him. But he did not; he let Lugh do what his nature demanded of him. What depriving him of a full fill of blood for days after his resurrection inevitably meant. He needed it and Nuada owed it to him for keeping it from him. The bite was fast and brutal, the hands and arms holding him in place against the wall where strong from desperation and the man, the elf, his best friend, mad with pain and hunger and it was all his fault, so much was his fault and yet... Nuada put his arms around Lugh, held him and when the haze of madness cleared and Lugh started to struggle with himself, tried to stop, he simply pressed Lughs face against his throat and held him there. "Drink your fill" His voice hoarse from pain and emotion. "Take what you need, finally, little Brother"
And Lugh drank, until replete he almost fell away from Nuada and only Nuadas grip of his shoulders stopped him from simply sliding to the floor.
"You need to sleep. To rest" Nuada helped him over to the closest pallet of blankets and sheepskins and helped him lay down. "There, we will talk when you wake up mo dheartháir."
"Sorry, I am sorry..." Lugh was slipping into sleep.
"It's all right, it will be all right..." Would it though? Would it be all right? Yes! Yes it would because he would make it all right. He would stop spreading unhappiness and pain around himself. He would do better from now on.
