Homelands Pt. 07 Ch. 04

"Kay! What are you doing in this neck of the woods?" she asked. Her voice almost made Oona's sound as deep as Fiona's. Some might have called it squeaky, but Cahill rather considered it cute.

"Looking for you," he said.

She blushed, reminding Cahill of just how cute she was. However unimpressive her figure might be, no one could deny her that.

Hands tucked behind the small of her back and blue eyes demurely focused on her bare feet, his cousin asked, "Me? Really?"

The surprise in her voice, which he didn't believe to be feigned, felt like a knife in his gut. Teagan might not have been the type of girl he usually went for, but Cahill still thought that something was wrong with a world in which a girl like her could be surprised at the notion that anyone would be looking for her. If Duncan weren't so self-absorbed, he'd take better care of his sister. See to her needs the way a brother should.

"Yes, you," he said. "Silly."

Teagan skipped across the stream, landing so lightly on the ground before him that her feet didn't even make any indentations. Nevermind that the dirt was soft enough that he himself would leave deep footprints behind when they left.

"And why would that be?" she asked in a singsong voice, leaving a brief pause to separate the last two words.

He gently brushed a lock of dirty blonde hair from her face, tucking it behind a pointed ear. "Do I need a reason?"

"Not really, no," she said with a shy grin.

Another wave of guilt.

He couldn't tell her that he'd come to ask her about her father. The girl deserved to think that he'd come looking for her simply because he wanted to see her. Suddenly, he wished that was why he'd come.

"So, um, are they not taking very good care of you over there?" Teagan asked, a naughty twinkle in her deep blue eye.

He stepped closer, thinking to wraps his arms around her but deciding at the last moment that it would be too weird. If this was to go anywhere, she was going to have to return to her normal height. Even in her true form, his cousin wasn't particularly tall. Fiona, the shortest of the Walker women, had a good inch or so on her. But at the moment, she wasn't even half his height. And that wasn't counting his antlers.

"Oh, I've no complaints about them," he said. Which was something of an understatement. His two sisters and their aunt saw to his every need. And then some. "Sometimes change is good though."

"Nothing wrong with a little variety," his cousin agreed. Her round cheeks deepened.

With that, she grew to her normal height, much to his relief. Her wings remained, as did his antlers, though the latter were spectral at the moment. But that was fine. Cahill had long since gotten used to the idea of having sex while wearing exotic fey forms. So long as his cousin was her usual height, he could work with the rest.

She then took his hand in hers and led him upstream. After a few minutes, they came to a clearing. With a wiggle of his cousin's nose, a luxuriously appointed bed appeared.

"You are still in the bed phase, right?" Teagan asked.

"Guess I am."

She gave herself a little nod.

Cahill laughed awkwardly. Even after all this time, he still sometimes felt like a complete stranger in Faerie. That there was a bed phase came as a surprise to him.

"I thought it'd be weeks before you ever came out this way," his cousin said.

"Don't be ridiculous," he said, feeling more and more like a complete asshole.

The roughspun frock fell away from his cousin. Like it had been a towel wrapped loosely around her body. Underneath, she was completely naked.

Some guys might have marveled at her inner thigh gap. At her tight little ass. But the fact that her butt cheeks barely touched, that there was no line of separation between them and her thighs, was not doing much for Cahill.

Still, when she gave him that "Well? Are you coming?" look over her shoulder, and a hint of anxiety and vulnerability flashed across her Libido, he resolved to do everything he could to make her feel like the most desirable woman in the world. If only for a time.

He remembered from dreams past that sweet little Teagan liked to be seduced slowly and tenderly. She had none of her mother's taste for rough sex. That, undoubtedly, was why her brother paid so little attention to her. Duncan hid the primal energy that raged within him better than Reilly did, but Cahill had seen a few glimpses of his true nature. But that was one of the things Cahill liked best about his cousin. One of the reasons that he was as attracted to her as he was.

In contrast to her brother, Teagan was probably as gentle a creature as Faerie had ever produced. One of, to be sure. Even by the standards of their kind, the little pixie knew how to make the most of the lightest of touches. She savored every kiss, every brush of his fingers. And when it came time for her to return the favor, she visited exquisite pleasures upon him using no more than her fingertips. Even when touching his least sensitive parts.

Cahill took his time getting reacquainted with his cousin's lithe form, trying not to let his disappointment with her lack of curves show. The way her body responded to his made his task considerably easier. He found that he playing with her breasts was nearly as much fun as playing with Fiona's or Oona's, if only because of the little pixie's reaction. And, to his delight, she made the same sounds, squirmed and writhed just as vigorously, when he nibbled at her ears or kissed her wrists or brushed his lips over her ribcage.

By the time he made it to her pussy, Cahill was truly enjoying himself.

Her labia were as slim and shy as everything else about her, but she was sensitive enough to more or less make up for it. Cahill couldn't help wondering what it would be like to pleasure her if her sex organs were more prominent, and it wouldn't have hurt anything for her to let her pubic hair grow in a bit, but knowing that she took such pleasure from every lap of his tongue made him want to keep going and going and going, forever. It didn't hurt that she tasted like vanilla and sugar, and her slender little hips had an outsized charm.

The way she ran her fingers lightly through his hair or over his shoulders, little sparks of ecstasy trailing her fingertips as she did, drove him crazy. Only when she got swept away by the intense stimulation he was providing did her grip firm up.

Granted, it hadn't taken long for that to happen.

It took some effort to avoid overwhelming her. Cahill could see how Duncan, who was not renowned for his patience, might not appreciate that. Perhaps he might not have either, after a while. Cahill too had to let his inner animal out of its cage from time to time, though he was more restrained in the bedroom than he gathered some men to be. But he hadn't been with her since he'd left the Dreaming behind. And he'd not taken her as a lover all that often before waking up either. However quickly he might have come to wish that his cousin's tastes were a little less tame if they were more regular lovers, just then, he found the task of trying to stay within her limits to be a most pleasant challenge.

Receiving oral sex from her was even more fun than giving it to her had been, unsurprisingly. Or perhaps that was surprising, after how much he'd enjoyed guiding the little girl through climax after climax.

She made him cum not once but twice before she even took him in her mouth. Her soft lips and delicate fingers had, some years ago, awakened him to sensitivities he hadn't known he'd possessed. Since he'd last been with her, he'd almost forgotten how much he enjoyed having his nipples played with. How good it could feel just to have a girl trail her fingers lightly along his forearms and across the back of his hands. To have her kiss up and down his chest and abdomen. Teagan somehow made playing footsie feel almost as good as sex.

In the Dreaming, Cahill had all too often met young women who were intent on saving themselves for marriage. Especially after he'd moved to Savannah. Most of them had changed their minds after meeting him, but a few had not. They'd swear to him that he'd be okay with that, once he saw how much fun they could have without intercourse. They'd been thoroughly mistaken, of course, but if any of them had possessed Teagan's talent for foreplay, that would have been a different story.

He and his cousin pleasured one another over and over. By the time they got around to intercourse, it felt almost like an afterthought.

Which was just as well, since Cahill was even more keenly aware of his cousin's taste for the timid when he was inside her. When she straddled his hips and rode him cowgirl, her hips moved more slowly and shyly than any other woman's would have. Not that she denied herself anything by doing so, of course. With every slow roll of her hips, Teagan seemed to experience a miniature orgasm. Her eyes rolled back in her head constantly, and it was a wonder she didn't split her lip open, so hard did she bite into it. A tempest raged within her Libido from the moment his thick cock spread her tight little box wide, and the sounds she made nearly convinced Cahill that he was the greatest lover alive, though in truth he did little more than lie there and let her use him. If she hadn't sucked him dry several times over before mounting him, he might have been a bit disappointed by it all. As it was, though, he was content to just let her do as she pleased with his body.

When they were done, they lay in bed, spooning. Cahill ran his fingers through his cousin's dark blonde hair while showering slight, white shoulder with soft kisses. As if to reward him, he supposed, she wiggled what passed for an ass against his abs.

Points for trying, at least.

"That was great," Teagan whispered.

"I've never met a woman like you," he said.

Which was true enough, so far as it went. Hopefully it sounded to her like he was saying that he was in complete agreement with her assessment.

"Say, can I ask you something?" he added, hoping that it sounded like the question he had in mind had just come to him.

"Of course," his cousin replied without so much as looking at him.

"What do you know about my father?"

That got her to look back over her shoulder at him. Eyes bluer than the ocean regarded him silently from beneath delicate brows.

"I'm sorry," he rushed to say. "That's a weird question."

"No," she said. "It's not." Teagan heaved a sigh. "In fact, it's one I figured you'd ask me sooner or later. Guess I just wanted to think it would be later."

"I'm sorry," he said again.

"Thought that maybe you really did traipse across the forest because you missed me," she said, sounding forlorn.

"What makes you so sure that I didn't?" he asked, feeling horrible. Why hadn't he come just for that reason? She deserved for him to have done so.

For a moment, he was tempted to simply lie and tell her that he had indeed done so. But something had stopped him. The words would not come out.

"Shh," she said, rolling over to face him. A soft palm rested against his cheek. "It's okay. Just tell me that you enjoyed it and I'll let that be good enough."

"Very much so."

His cousin furrowed her brow. Thins lips formed a line. She looked like she wanted to force him to say exactly what meant, to explicitly tell her that he'd enjoyed having sex with her. But apparently she decided that what he had said would be close enough to an outright lie otherwise that it wasn't worth pushing.

Seeing as the words she'd have him speak were in fact true, though, Cahill went ahead and said them. "I had a wonderful time, Teagan. You're an incredibly talented lover."

"Really?" she asked, as if there could be any doubt at that point.

Cahill kissed the pointy tip of her cute little nose. "Really."

"I know I'm a bit tame," Teagan said. "I just think-"

He silenced her by pressing a finger over her lips. "You're great."

The smile that spread across her pink lips made his heart sing. What was wrong with Duncan that he could neglect such a sweet creature?

"I don't know him too well, I'm afraid," she said at last. "He comes by every now and then, but he's always looking for Mom. If she's not available, or if he just doesn't feel like sharing her with Dunk, he'll take me. But we never talk."

"Is he rough with you?" Cahill asked.

He didn't know what he'd do if she said that he was, but the mere thought of it filled him with rage. Any man who could hurt this delicate little flower deserved to suffer. Horribly.

His cousin shook her head. "No, no. He's great. He's...well, I know one guy who puts him to shame. But just the one."

Cahill laughed and kissed her forehead.

"Like I said, though, it's always just sex. He never tells me anything. Never asks me anything. Not like he cares, anyway." She dropped her voice an octave or two, which still left her sounding decidedly feminine. "`How are you all doing, sweetie-kins? Your brother taking care of you and your mother? You'd tell me if he wasn't, right?"'

If Teagan thought that was what Arawn sounded like when he didn't care, she should try having him as a father instead of an uncle. Should try being a Walker. It sounded to Cahill like the prince was trying to keep his distance, but was genuinely concerned for the well-being of his sweet little niece. Still, Cahill got her point. There was no use trying to milk her for information. His father might care more for her than him, seeing as she belonged to his clan whereas Cahill merely had the same blood coursing through is veins, but that didn't mean he'd opened up to her. Divulged big secrets to her.

"Daddy's a complete mystery," Teagan said. "To everyone. Even my mother, if I had to guess, though she doesn't seem to think so."

"Daddy?"

Time slowed. Cahill felt as though he'd been smacked in the face.

Did that mean that Macha wasn't the girl's mother? Or that she wasn't actually a Dreamsmyth? No, that couldn't be. She looked like her brother, nevermind that her hair was blonde and her eyes blue while he had a black mane and green irises, or that she was thickly muscled for a woman while Arawn was a bit slimmer than most fey men. There was a commonality to their facial features. Their cheekbones and jaws, the set of their foreheads and the modest widow's peak each of them had in the center of their hairlines. There was no denying it. They were brother and sister.

Making Teagan his sister, in addition to his cousin.

"Your daddy," she rushed to add, as if that had been what she'd meant all along.

The look on her face was impassive. Nothing there betrayed the fact that she'd just slipped up, said something she shouldn't have. But Cahill caught the panic in her Libido.

"Ah, gotcha," Cahill said. "That he is."

Gradually, Cahill changed the topic, doing his best to avoid arousing his cousin's suspicion. He couldn't let her know that he knew. That he hadn't been fooled in the least by her correction. Unfortunately, though, if she had any talent for reading Libidos herself, she'd know. His mother was trying to teach him how to mask his feelings, but he hadn't yet mastered that, and the shock he'd felt at the revelation had to have been unmistakeable.

He pivoted from talk of their father to Savannah, using the brief trip to the music festival as his transition. Then he asked his cousin where she'd grown up. Toronto, it turned out. Or maybe Brisbane or Christchurch. Like so many of the others, she couldn't really remember much from that time in her life. All she seemed to know for sure was that her childhood had been spent in one of the former English colonies, but not in the United States.

The small talk ended soon thereafter anyway. Once confident that he'd done all he could to persuade his sister that he remained unaware that she was anything other than his cousin, Cahill soon set to work seducing her again.

#

The pile of burnt twigs, scorched bark, roasted nuts, and smoked berries that lay before her bespoke the impossible.

Except they didn't. Not really. Because, of course, they didn't tell her anything.

Whatever insights came to Caronwyn as she stared down at the pile of detritus were all her own. If she'd chosen to read tea leaves, throw bones, gaze at the stars, or spill a bird's entrails, it would have made no difference. None of those paths would lead her anywhere different than an unguided use of her innate talents. It was all done merely for the sake of breathing life into an illusion.

As with so much of what they did.

Yes, she was a druidess, for true. But only because she'd chosen to present herself as such and because the members of clan chose to accept that. The rituals she performed were entirely arbitrary. They were endowed with meaning only by her belief in them, and the belief of those around her. When all was said and done, it was her power as a woman of the fey that told her what she did not wish to hear. No truths had been coaxed out of the objects by her sacred fires. And thus, she could not tell herself that she'd botched the ritual, that the message conveyed to her was false because the magicks had been tainted.

Caronwyn knew these things. But it was so easy to forget them. To believe in the fantasy she'd helped to construct. To set aside her awareness that nothing was what it seemed to be here in Faerie. Neither were they lies, of course, as lies found no home in Faerie. But they were still deceiving. Hers was a world of in-between, where everything existed at the intersection of what was and what could be.

Sometimes she wished that she'd lost all her memories of the Dreaming, the way the others had. Perhaps then she'd cease expecting the logic of men to apply to this world.

Still, despite all that self-awareness, the druidess scooped up her talismans, shook them in the palms of her hands, and cast them forth once more. Hoping for a different answer, knowing that she'd not find one.

Again, they told her the same nonsense.

Her son's mind was his own. Yet he was also dancing upon the strings of two puppeteers. The images were quite clear on that latter part. If they told her that Cahill was a card in a game of poker, or a horse running in a race, or some such, she could make sense of the two messages. She'd know that there were two greater powers locked in contest with one another, and that her son's actions would somehow determine the outcome of that contest, but that Cahill was making his decisions for himself.

It didn't add up. How could he be acting of his own volition, yet not be?

She'd read his Libido carefully every chance she'd gotten. Not once had she detected any sign of foreign influence. He was not under any geis. The only illusions he saw were those she tested him with each day, and he rarely failed to recognize those for what they were within a matter of moments. Her youngest son had great potential, and he was slowly beginning to achieve it. What could the boy's father have done to him that he'd not cast off readily? That she'd not be able to detect?

Arawn had done something to her Cahill, though. Of that much, Caronwyn was sure. Her son's behavior had changed after he'd answered the prince's summons. To all appearances, his sudden lack of desire for her was sincere, but she still knew that her former husband had a hand in it. He was unquestionably one of the puppeteers.

Who was the other, though? Titania? Oberon?

No matter how many times she tried to get her talismans to reveal the identity of the second puppeteer, they refused her. That itself was a sign that whomever it was possessed great power. And the list of great powers was short indeed. But she couldn't see why the Queen of Faerie would need to use Caronwyn's son in a scheme against one of her own sons. Nor did the queen's favored son seem to have much reason to act against his brother.