tagSci-Fi & FantasyFey World Ch. 12

Fey World Ch. 12


One thing I had learned in my time as a princess of Angorland was patience. In my homeland we had been people of action; people of fierce passion and ruthless efficiency. In Angorland we had been plotters, planners, and above all, careful in every move.

In my first husband's kingdom as in my second, it seemed to be a mix. My personal fears had to be put aside, however, so that Elfgwyven could present me, let his people know the line would continue, that they were safe, their king happy.

Things had been prepared before I arrived, and I was happy to be reunited with Saran. Elisabeth was already heading to Unseelie to be trained there. Both fey understood my other lady's need to be with women, but it was much more openly tolerated in Unseelie.

Saran hugged me when I was shown to my dressing room, and we gripped each other tightly.

"My lady, I am so relieved you are safe."

I squeezed her shoulders as I pulled back. "Of course I am. Now let's get to the business at hand, I must choose an outfit and plan my hair for tonight. I think you can understand I wish to do this quickly and spend some time with my husband."

At that she blushed, I'm sure from the unusual fact that I had not one but two. "My lady, how shall we explain this to your father?"

I turned from her and faced a window lit by a gentle dawn's light. "I shall handle that in time. Let us hurry now."

Just like in my dark kingdom, here my dressing room was stocked with gowns. My husband here favored silver, but my gowns were all white, trimmed subtly with pink, the broad white run through with silver threads.

We chose a formal gown with a low scooping neck, a high waist, a full skirt, and odd sleeves. On top of my arms they would lay short, below they would hang down in a long point.

Saran competently chose jewelry to compliment the tiara placed obviously, suggesting I should wear it. We decided to do my hair in a style she insisted she had seen most of the ladies of the court wearing, but she gave me a wink and promised she would make it my own. After all, a queen was to lead, she did not deign to follow.

I found my husband in our room, sitting on the bed holding a rose with a larger more beautiful bloom than I had ever seen.

He wore only those strange pants, his magnificent chest bare with small rivulets of water trailing from his hair. Wet as it was and slicked back it cast a harsh angle to the planes of his face, making him all the more beautiful.

"Anni," he said and I couldn't hold back.

I ran the last few steps and leapt, surprising him, surprising myself. My time with Angoralt had made me bold, but to his credit Elfgwyven relaxed, smiling at me as his arms came around me and we rolled.

By the time I was on my back my clothes and his had disappeared. "I have missed you."

I kissed him then, hungrily, and he tasted so good, so familiar, melting my very bones. Then his tongue touched mine and the fires raging inside me exploded.

I moaned his name and tried to slide my hand down along his smooth, hard muscles, but he grabbed my wrist and pulled back.

"Not yet, Anni. I know my brother, I know his ways, I know the ways of his kingdom. I need you to know there will never be a choice between us, we will always compliment you perfectly."

My brow furled as I turned his words over in my mind, but I was too addled by desire to make sense of it.

He kissed the knot there and pulled back. Within a moment I felt the warm brush of his magic and my hands were pinned gently down, my legs too, spread wide. I raised my eyebrows and bit my lip, unsure of what he had planned.

He raised an imperious pink brow and rolled to his side, the flex and play of muscles making my mouth go dry. With flourish he presented the rose and let me sniff gently at it. The scent was rich, heady, somehow familiar.

"A gift, I have created it for you. And I will grow these in my gardens so that I may think of you at any time."

I felt a blush grow and my heart turned over. Trying to speak, my lips parted, but he put a long finger to them and shushed me.

He lowered the rose and stroked it across my lips, the petals like dewy velvet, and that slight touch was exquisite. He twirled it very slowly, lowering it down my neck and I threw my head back, arching into it.

Above me on the ceiling was a delicate mosaic of tiles depicting a scene of a fey in armor courting a mermaid. It was very real and sensual and almost pulled my mind from my body, but then the bloom danced from my collarbone to the slope of a breast.

I gasped as he lowered it to the crest and teased the nipple there, raising it to hardness. I cried out as the shivery feeling from that skin danced across my body, deepening the ache.

Elfgwyven smiled at me as he skittered the bloom back up and across to repeat the action on the other half of my bosom. I gasped again, my fingers grasping the silver shiny sheets beneath me.

Just when I wanted to beg he moved up the bloom, and I found the sharp feeling of thorns gently dragging along my skin. I called his name when they hit the soft skin of the nipple. It was small, acute pain, but it left an intense pleasure in its wake.

He repeated the action on my other side and I was twisting beneath invisible hands, my body bucking.

"Elfgwyven! I cannot wait, please!"

He just chuckled, but with some small measure of relief I saw his face was strained slightly with the effort.

The bloom danced down my fluttering stomach muscles with tiny pinpricks of thorns in its wake until he reached the apex of my thighs.

Blushing crimson all I could do was watch as he brought the petals to my nether lips and pressed, parting my folds. The nubbin there rose up eagerly with hunger, and just when quivering pleasure seemed to near me, I felt the kiss of thorns.

My body bowed, but it wasn't pain, it was a darkly curious, hungry pleasure. I cried his name, a broken sound, half plea, ending in a gasp as a thorn caught the small hood over my tender flesh and pulled.

The feeling was incredible, and as my mind began to catch up his pink head bent over me and he claimed a swollen nipple between his lips. Teeth joined too and he tugged, the feeling of that blending with the thorny pull grabbed my soul and forced me over a steep edge.

I shivered, muscles fluttering wildly, as the crest of the wave of pleasure crashed over me. It was incredible, it was amazing, but I felt very much alone.

I couldn't put it into words perfectly, but with Angoralt the experience would have been a wonderful prelude to something even darker. With Elfgwyven it felt off.

I came down panting, wincing as he removed the thorn from my tender flesh. "I want you with me, husband."

He stopped and looked into my eyes, perhaps reading my feelings all too clearly. Instantly the invisible hands disappeared and the rose too. Elfgwyven covered me and kissed me deeply, his body sliding inside to fill me where I felt empty.

He said not a word and it was perfect. I kissed him with deep fervor and he me, we moved together in accord. Sweat rose from us both as we climbed, and after long minutes of slow thrusts I reached the pinnacle.

To my great relief, my husband followed me over the edge into madness.

Afterwards we lay tangled together, panting.

"I want to ask-"

He turned and silenced me with a small kiss. "I fear I lied when I said I would feel no jealousy. I do not worry you will love him more; I cannot explain it, Anni. I guess I worried that perhaps he has more to show you than I."

It made little sense to me, but I thought I knew how to reassure him. I brought his face close to mine and looked deep into his gorgeous silver eyes. "I know you have been alone for a long time, but I am human, and I am young. I have much to learn, from you both."

My statement seemed to calm him, and I felt a measure of disquiet in my own heart. I hadn't really said anything, but it had done some measure of good. Such was the work of a monarch all too often.

Perhaps in that moment I finally felt a queen, but somehow it all seemed so very sad.


I was announced in a different way in the Kingdom of Seelie. Here there was a great feast called, just as in Unseelie, but I was to be first presented to the nobles.

I understood that in Unseelie titles existed more in name than form, but in Seelie the aristocracy was alive and well, and it was the order.

The gathering was smaller, and it was to the nobles I was presented. The large hall here was shiny gilt trim around white marble and it struck me; the silver of Angoralt's castle suited his brother, and the gold of Elfgwyven's suited his brother. Two very odd halves of something I could not believe was ever whole.

A cheer rose up as my husband and I walked to our seats. They were true thrones, very large, and I realized all the furniture here was very ornate, as were the people.

As I was seated and the cheers died down, my husband introduced me to his cousin to my left, the Duchess Arweinne. She was stately and old enough that there were tinges of grey at her temples, otherwise her hair was pink. Her face was angular like her cousin's, and it made her a very handsome woman.

"I feel you are nervous my dear. Just remember what fey is to humans."

"And what exactly is that?" I raised my eyebrow, slightly affronted she had not addressed me properly.

"We are the land of fairy tales," she said with a smile.

I felt a shiver race over me which earned my husband's firm touch, his hand squeezing my thigh. "What troubles you?"

I could not speak it, but a single thought had rocked me. That was where men who walked as wolves existed; in fairy tales. It was not just the light, but there was a lot of dark in those tales.

"I am merely nervous." I smiled.

His hand clasped mine and raised the back of my hand to kiss it. "I know it is jarring, and I am afraid I did not prepare you. Our ways are a bit more formal, surely you experienced court back in Angorland?"

I had spent my life in Angorland avoiding it gleefully but jerked a nod.

"I also forgot to mention you look stunning." The intimate look in his eyes burned like an alchemists flame, a look I had missed in the last few hours.

A blush rose and I squeezed his hand. For a dark moment I wondered if the night would end as my first in Unseelie had, and if our hands would quest beneath one another's clothes.

He kissed the tip of my nose which brought a cheer from the court below.

As if waiting for that signal, liveried footmen began to march in with platters, shiny and high. They marched in perfect order, reminding me of an army, and indeed they could have been.

All of faerie was beautiful, the women lithe and long, willowy like animated flowers. The men were tall and strong, muscles honed as if from years of exercise and training. Here too were heads in every color found in nature, but not in humans. Just as in Unseelie I noticed no one with the natural red gold of my own hair, and a wave of sadness slipped beneath my heart.

The food was heavenly, very similar to Unseelie's faire, and I ate with strange gusto just as I had before. I spoke with my husband but it was restrained, polite, and I worried something unspoken lurked.

I worried about the wolves.

I remembered the rules I had learned gratefully at Angoralt's table. I ate the bread, I speared the meat with the strange pronged handheld pitchfork. I cut my meat gently, used a spoon for the soup. I did everything well and felt proud.

Here in Elfgwyven's court it seemed manners counted and were in fact expected, versus in Angoralt's court it seemed the joy of the meal was what mattered. I enjoyed both, but being so new I felt slightly more comfortable in Unseelie, at least for eating.

After the meal the dessert was, to my disappointment, not chocolate. It was strange, sweet fruits in the shape of stars soaked in that glorious drink, champagne.

I was more careful this time not to slip deep in my cups, and through it all my husband found some way to touch me, be it the brush of a strong hand, the press of a powerful thigh. I knew it was approval but the deep aching hunger had already begun to spread, and I was eager to be alone with him.

After the last platters were cleared musicians took up their places, and for a stark moment of madness I tried to imagine the very proper Seelie cavorting the way their dark brothers and sisters did. I tried to cover my giggle and earned a sharp look from my in-law.

Instead a herald of some sort stepped forward and began to announce names. As in Angorland, Dukes and Duchesses stepped forward first, then descending by rank the court was presented to me.

Each bore a title, "wielder of" such as my husband bore, and this was not explained. They were all handsome and beautiful smiling and open, and many nodded to my husband and when he nodded back performed some feat of magic. I tried not to play the country mouse, but it was quite fantastical.

One poured out a goblet of water and out flew a dozen doves, trilling softly and filling the rafters with song doves did not produce. Another called forth shadows into a kind of band which played a strange sort of duel with the fey musicians.

There was more, so much more, singing animals, floating ponds, dancing fire, living rainbows. It was so beatific it brought tears to my eyes. At long, long last it ended and tables were cleared, stylized dancing began. The music rose and I felt disappointed.

"Husband, I need a small repast." I was dazed by magic, far more drunk on that than any champagne, and I desperately wanted a moment alone with him. "Would you please attend me?"

He raised a brow. I had seen the plumbing of the Seelie and Unseelie, and it was quite advanced and strange with running water. It required no attendance, so I hoped he understood I wanted some time alone with him.

We stood and all rose. I blushed and reminded myself I would have to get used to this. Behind me Saran stood but I turned and quickly told her I sought some privacy with my husband.

She smiled and nodded, and promised to tell Bornagold. They fell into step behind us as we went into a hall and I heard her speak to Bornagold, earning a chuckle as they stopped and we kept on.

"What is going on?" Elfgwyven stopped suddenly.

The magic was in my veins, swimming like a school of fish inside me. Sensual delights of all kinds seemed linked, and on that thought I rose on my toes and kissed him deeply.

He needed no encouragement and I found myself pressed into an alcove. It reminded me of the urgency of our first coupling; the pure, sweet energy that was his.

My low bodice was tugged to expose my breasts and with a hungry mouth he captured each peak in turn. I felt the warmth of a spell and cried out freely, running my hands along his body anywhere I could. He felt so sleek and powerful, so warm and right.

I could wait no more and worked a hand between us, opening the small strange metal-edged slit at the front of his trousers and freeing the member there. I palmed it, stroked it with fingertips, and was rewarded with a deep shudder.

"Anni," he breathed, and then his hands were beneath my skirts. When he found I wore no barrier there and I was moist and soft and more than ready, he shoved my hand away and grabbed me, lifting me up. I wrapped my legs around his waist and he was there, poised at my opening.

"Please," I begged, and his first response was to drop his forehead to mine.

Our eyes met, mine wide with need, his swimming with life and magic. "Anni, I love you."

I shuddered with madness and needs of all kinds. "And I love you-oh!" I could only cry out as he sank in, filling me.

We worked together, against each other, for each other, with each other. Rocking back and forth, such little skin exposed, it only heightened the pleasure. As his mouth claimed mine, plundering again and again, the rough yet smooth lapel of his strange jacket abraded my nipples.

I saw the peak, not rushing towards me, instead I was galloping towards it. I felt him tighten and strain against me and knew he took the dark ride along with me. I achieved the summit first and cried out as if my very body exploded with the force of pleasure.

We burst together, limbs quaking, mouths filled with the cries of one another's pleasure. I gripped him so tight I feared leaving marks, and he clutched me so close my breath was hard in coming.

At long last our kisses turned soft and loving and all too soon he was withdrawing, another spell righting out clothes and cleansing our bodies.

"I am more grateful for you than you can know," Elfgwyven broke the silence with a shaky voice.

"I have been so alone, you have no idea how grateful I am for you." And for Angoralt, my mind added silently, but I thought that not wise.

At least, not for the moment.


The dream was Unseelie, by the castle of my husband Angoralt. We were in the woods, the moonlight shining. Here Unseelie had full night and twilight, in Seelie they had full day and dawn. Neither one felt complete, and much like I needed both men, I needed the day and the night.

"Angoralt!" I ran to him and he embraced me, his kiss rough and blazing, a kind of claiming that left no room for my permission.

"My sweet and innocent Hannah, how do you fare?"

He still held me, his muscles thick and corded, and in his strength I sought comfort, much as I knew my body lay cradled in the strength of my other husband.

"I am well. The differences between Seelie and Unseelie are great, but greater still are the differences between both courts and my homelands."

"If anyone can adjust and learn, it is you. Come with me, walk with me to the water." He took my hand and led me deeper into the forests of the night.

"Angoralt, it troubles me, the thoughts of these wolves."

"I know your mind, I know my brother's too as well as my own. I agree, it is likely they seek you to rule them, to make more of them."

I shivered though the night was balmy warm, as all of fey seemed to be. He pulled me against him, arm around my shoulders. "Fear not, my love, I will protect you, my brother will protect you, all of fey will. You are safe here, and, in a moment's time, you will forget about everyone else."

Those words seemed magic, a sensual spell, but I sensed no true Unseelie magic, just the natural connection between us.

We reached a shimmering silver pond and then I felt a kind of magic, knowing this was not full reality, that we walked in dreams, but I was there, he was with me, and our clothes were gone.

In the water we made a violent hurried kind of love, desperate for one another, moving with dark need and vicious joy. I climaxed three times before he followed me into the madness.

Afterwards he washed me clean, let me bathe him, and I lost myself to the sculpted hills and valleys of his body. We began to splash in the water, playing like children, and every time I saw him smile, without guile, I felt my heart swell.

Guilt tugged at me as I wished Elfgwyven could join us, that I could live every moment with the both of them.

As if sensing my dark feelings, Angoralt came to a rest, treading as I did. "I wish to never see that wrinkle between your brows."

I touched it without thought, and covered with a smile. "I am happy, but I am human. We are forever burdened by worries, it is part of what makes us who we are."

"I would wish to remove any burden you bear, but I have no wish to change you, Hannah. You are perfect the way you are."

I felt myself blushing, feeling shy despite my most intimate knowledge of him.

Suddenly Angoralt stiffened. "You must wake now, Hannah, you are nee-"

My eyes opened to see Elfgwyven sitting in bed, shielding me. "Have the lines broken?"

"No," I heard Bornagold's answering voice. "We have repelled them, but it is most worrisome that they knew of the entrance."

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