Chapter 16 begins with them all freaking out while Doyle is
screaming on the bedroom floor. Merry is screaming with him, which causes all
the other guards to rush into the room, weapons drawn. Doyle’s body is writhing
and spasming, like it is trying to turn inside out. Merry reaches out to touch
it, which knowing that one of Merry’s hands of power is the power to fucking
turn someone inside out, just screams great idea. Frost pulls Merry back and
tells her not to touch him again, which is when they notice that Doyle’s body
is now sprouting fur.
I
looked back at what was left of Doyle, and at first I didn’t see it. Then,
among all the dark flesh, I saw an equally dark wash of fur, flowing like slow
water to coat the naked meat that had once been a man. The bare glistening
bones sank into that fur, and once hidden away they began to reform with a
sound like stones grinding together. A mouth formed out of that fur and bone,
and it screamed, and it sounded human, but it wasn’t.
When it was over, a huge black dog lay panting on its side amid the blood and
fluids. My eyes tried to make sense of it, tried to see Doyle in that furred
shape, but it was all dog. A huge black mastiff-type dog. I remembered the
shadow dogs in my vision. What lay before us was a twin of the dogs that had
formed from the shadows under the trees.
So Doyle has apparently turned into a dog. Cool. Rhys
realizes that the dog is actually Doyle’s dog-form. He’s a shapeshifter,
remember? His mother or father or grandfather or something in his line was a
dog, and Andais joked in book 2 about how he’d impregnate Merry with puppies. I
don’t understand why anyone is surprised by this.
So Merry asks the Dogyle if it can understand her, and Doyle
responds like normal, so Merry goes over to hug him. Rhys then realizes that
there’s still magic in the room, and Doyle starts to violently transform again.
The dog-body splits in two and a giant black horse steps out of it. THEY ARE IN
A TINY, FURNITURE FILLED BEDROOM that now contains ALL THE GUARDS, MERRY, AND A FUCKING GIANT HORSE.
The
dog had been the size of a small pony, so the horse was even more massive. It
tossed its black head and nearly scraped its nose on the ceiling. The neck was
thicker than my waist. It stamped on the carpet with hooves the size of dinner
plates. It moved uneasily on its huge legs, and even little movements made
everyone back up. All the men were staring. Kitto seemed more frightened than
the rest. He had moved back through the crowd so that he stood near the door,
and I think only Maeve and Sage blocking the door kept him in the room. Another
phobia to add to the list for the goblin.
No mention of the bedroom. I think LKH forgot this.
Doyle tells them all that he hadn’t been able to shift into
his horse-form since they gave up their magic with the first weirding. Frost
then realizes that the magic isn’t over yet, and Merry tells them all that she
cannot feel any magic.
[Frost]
whispered, “It’s not over. Can’t you feel it?”
“What?”
“Magic,” he breathed.
“Pressed this close to you, all I can feel is you. You all feel like magic to
me.”
He looked down on me then, and I saw a thought in his eyes, as if he hadn’t
known that before. “Then we make it harder for you to sense other magic?”
I nodded. “Yes.”
“That is not good,” he said.
I rubbed my body against his, and felt him swell against me, instantly. “I love
it,” I said, “I love being with you, all of you.”
This is great. Doyle is PAINFULLY TRANSFORMING INTO FORMS HE
HASN’T BEEN ABLE TO TRANSFORM INTO IN MILENNIA and Merry is grinding her ass up
against Frost to get him hard.
Anyway, the horse rears up on its hind legs and as it does,
it turns into a giant black eagle. Doyle tells them that he’s never been able
to transform into an eagle before, and then he transforms back into his
regular, sidhe form, then collapses onto the floor. Merry tries to go to his
side, but Frost decides this is the perfect moment to throw a jealous fit.
“Let
go of me, Frost, now!”
“You want to go to him,” he said, and there was such sorrow in his voice.
I looked up at him “Yes, as I’d want to go to any of you who was hurt.”
He shook his head. “No, Doyle is special to you.”
I frowned up at him. “Yes, as you are.”
He shook his head again. He leaned over, whispered against my face. “Since he
entered your bed, you have distanced yourself from me.”
DUDE SHE WAS JUST TRYING TO BLOW YOU NOT FIVE MINUTES AGO
AND YOU TURNED IT DOWN TO TALK ABOUT YOUR FEELINGS.
Frost lets Merry go after she tells him she doesn’t have
time for his feelings, and she orders everyone out of the room except herself,
Doyle, Rhys and for some reason, Frost.
When
the door closed behind them and Rhys was helping Doyle into the bed, I gave my
full attention to Frost. “Normally, I would do this in private, but none of you
believes me, most of the time, without one of the other guards to back me up. I
don’t want any misunderstandings, Frost.”
Frost gave me a very cold look. “I understand that Doyle will be in your bed
tonight.”
I shook my head. “Frost, it is not Doyle being in my bed that’s made me pull
back from you. It’s you who’s made me pull back.”
He looked away, as if he was at full attention but didn’t see anything.
So Merry slaps him, hard, against the chest because she
cannot reach his face. She tells him to quit his fucking pouting, and he pouts
about that, telling her he doesn’t pout. Rhys tells him he totally does, and
even fucking Doyle, who is dealing with the aftermath of the forced
transformations, agrees, telling him that he does pout. They argue for AN ENTIRE
PAGE about pouting.
“You’re
pouting, right now, this very second.”
He opened his mouth, closed it, and a moment of puzzlement showed through. “I
do not see this as pouting. Children pout, warriors do not.”
“Then what do you call this?” I asked, hands on hips.
He seemed to think a moment, then said, “I merely react to what you do. If you
prefer Doyle to me, then there is nothing I can do. I have given you the best
of me, and it is not good enough.”
“Love isn’t just about sex, Frost. I need you not to do this.”
YOUR LOVE FOR FROST IS PURELY BASED ON SEX, MERRY, FOR
FUCK’S SAKE.
“Not
to do what?” he asked.
“This” – I poked a figure against his chest – “this cold distance façade. I
need you to be real, yourself.”
“You do not like me when I am myself.”
“That’s not true. I love you when you are yourself, but you have to stop
letting everything hurt your feelings. You have to stop pouting.” I stepped
back enough so I could look up into his face without straining my neck. “I
spend so much energy worrying how you’re going to take something. I don’t have
the energy to spare to tiptoe around your feelings, Frost.”
Ughhhh. No, Merry, you obviously DO NOT love Frost as
himself. You seem to have a huge fucking problem with Frost when Frost acts his
normal, cold, hard self. When he starts having any sort of emotion that isn’t
joy or happiness, you pick at him. When he’s cold and arrogant, you pick on
him. When he’s upset and pouting, you pick on him. You seem only to love him
when he’s 100% happy. PRO TIP, IDIOT: no one is happy all the time. There’s not
always joy in life. Love is not simply loving someone when everything is hunky
dory. Love is loving someone through everything,
thick and thin, no matter what. You don’t get to pick and choose which aspects
you are going to love about someone and then force them to never act outside
that box. That is not love. You are a fucking idiot.
“She
doesn’t want you to leave,” Rhys said. “She loves you. She loves you more than
she loves me.” He didn’t sound hurt; it was more a statement of fact. Since it
was the truth, I didn’t try to argue. “But every time you pull the cold,
arrogant act, Merry pulls away. When you pout, she pulls away.”
“The cold arrogant act, as you put it, is what saved my sanity with the queen.”
“I am not the queen, Frost,” I said. “I don’t want a toy in my bed. I want a
king at my side. I need you to be a grownup.” It should have been silly to tell
someone hundreds of years my senior to grow up, but it was necessary. Sadly.
Doyle spoke from against the pillows, and his voice held the effort that speech
cost him. “if you could curb your emotions, she would love you and no other. If
you could but understand, there would be no contest.”
Ughhhhhhhh. A person should be able to emote. They should be
able to express their emotions. Frost isn’t expressing his feelings in an
unhealthy manner. It isn’t a form of abuse to deal with Frost’s emotions. Merry
simply doesn’t want to deal with him, so instead they’re trying to force him to
change. This is unhealthy. I’m really beginning to wonder if LKH has ever had a
healthy relationship in her life, if this is what she truly thinks love is.
You see this sort of thing – either Merry or Anita can’t
love one of their many “men” unless that man makes a huge change to himself.
Anita can’t deal with Nathanial’s submissive tendencies, so she forces him to
start being more dominant. Anita can’t deal with Jean Claude’s bisexuality, so
she forces him to give up his male lover, Asher, who he had been with for HUNDREDS
OF YEARS, to be with her and only her (while she continues to fuck like 8
different men). Merry can’t deal with ONE EMOTIONAL DUDE so she forces him to
be HAPPY ALL THE FUCKING TIME before she can love him. This is a common FUCKING
TERRIBLE THEME in all of LKH’s books. I pity her, I really do, if this is how
she thinks meaningful relationships actually function.
Anyway the chapter ends with Merry asking Frost to try to
not pout all the time, and he agrees, because this book is the actual worst.
Labels: book 2, Seduced by Moonlight