Faerlyn and Zyaheml

The air was crisp that morning, and Faerlyn pulled her cape closer around her thin frame as she walked to the center of town. Many adventurers passed quickly, a few hailed her in rapid greeting. As the portals grew into focus, she noticed a striking dark-haired man sitting on the steps to the castle. As she drew closer, he glanced up at her, looking directly into her soul with the eyes of the kindred. Faerlyn shuddered slightly but was suddenly enchanted as his severe face broke into a boyish smile. She considered only slightly before she sat down beside him.

"Are you new to this realm?" She asked him, her gaze taking in the velvet cloak, the silver boots and two sharp daggers at his right side.

"I am, but you are not. I know of you. My lady Faerlyn, of the house of Tirek, heir to the fortunes of Tir." He stood, taking her hand in his. "I am Zyaheml of the Blooded, heir to nothing." His smile brightened as he swept a graceful bow.

"I am pleased to meet you, and I bid you welcome to our fair city. How come you to know me?" Faerlyn coyly cocked her head and looked at him with curiosity.

"I have been in conference with your father, Tirek for many days. The Kindred would like to form an alliance with the Fae, for mutual benefit. He spoke of your beauty."

Faerlyn blushed. "My father sees me with blind eyes. There are many who are fearful of the fae and their magic. Are you not afraid I will bewitch you?"

Zyaheml sat back down on the steps. "My lady, you have already cast a spell on me. Might I be so bold as to ask we continue our conversation in a more private place?"

Faerlyn considered only briefly. "I have many admirers. Are you willing to compete for my attention?"

"It will not be a competition, my lady. I will win your heart and your love." Zyaheml stood, extending his hand. Faerlyn stood nimbly, eschewing his aid, and walked quickly towards the docks. Zyaheml grinned broadly and followed.

The air was stale in the inn as two unlikely acquaintances sat beside the fireplace. Several empty tankards littered the table. The dark haired female had removed her cape, revealing massive blood-red wings that swept the floor. The man with the pale skin had also removed his cloak, draping it casually over the back of his chair. Their heads were together in animated conversation.

"I'm not saying that, I merely alluded to the fact that I have BEEN to Trellor. Your twisted mind came up with the rest." Faerlyn amicably touched a velvet covered sleeve.

"Ah, but I see it in your eyes. That merriment, that deceit. You are indeed a witch, my lady. A spider. And I, your prey." Zyaheml gently brushed a finger across her chin, gazing deeply into her dark eyes. "Quite willing, I might add."

Those eyes, those burning eyes looked deep into her soul, and Faerlyn knew what would come of this meeting. She stood, and taking his hand, she cast a spell. The light seemed to implode upon them brilliantly and then they were gone. Motes of dust lingered around the table, glittering in the firelight.

This room had obviously been created by fae magic, and the effect was breathtaking. Spacious and bright, but lit by magic, as no windows offered an outsider's view. The walls grew with vines and flowers, and the only furniture was a massive canopy bed opposite the door. The coverlet looked like spun spidersilk, and the bed curtains might have been woven from starlight.

Zyaheml took Faerlyn into his arms without prelude. She melted into his warm body, savoring his touch. She knew of the kindred, their lovemaking was legendary. Her body tensed as his lips touched her neck, but he whispered into her ear, "I will not embrace you. I wish only to make love to you, passionately and repeatedly." Faerlyn responded by leaning into his grasp, her mouth hungrily searching for his. Their first kiss exploded with passion as they found each other, each trying to draw the other into his soul. Faerlyn broke free and walked to the bed, slowly shedding her clothing as she moved. Zyaheml stood for a moment, gazing at her nakedness, striking in the magical light. He teasingly removed his garments, never breaking eye contact. As he neared the bed, he gathered her into his arms, aggressively planting kisses along her shoulders, her arms, her breasts. She leaned back across the bed, and he followed, draping his body over hers. He grasped her hands and held them above her head, ravaging her ample breasts with tongue and teeth. She writhed under his touch, much to his pleasure. Releasing her hands, he waited no longer. He pushed her legs apart and curled himself between them with his face inches from her lower lips. Taking a deep breath he lowered himself to her, inhaling her scent with rapture. His tongue made tentative teasing movements, and he delighted in watching her move her hips closer to his mouth. In a sudden motion he buried his mouth in her, his tongue and teeth working together to drive her to the brink of orgasm.

As he felt her breath quicken, he withdrew, and moved again to her neck and face. She tangled her fingers in his hair, pulling him closer to her. In a swift movement he plunged himself into her, smiling as she gasped and buried her face in his neck. Their movements melded together as they moved, each trying to climb inside the other. They could each feel the other's impending orgasm, and both fought furiously to achieve release. In a breathtaking blaze of emotion, both spiraling up towards heaven then crashing down, mutual release. Sweaty bodies tangled together, she planted soft kisses on his lips. Waves of sleep washed over them, and they held each other tightly.