Silver and Gold Ch. 09

Hello lovelies! Thanks for reading, rating, and commenting. It makes my romantic little heart happy. Now let's see what these two are up to...

******

Feldspar wiped sweat from his brow and pushed his hair back. He was grateful the morning was brisk. A refreshing breeze rushed through the aspen trees bordering the wildflower-strewn meadow, cooling his fatigued body. Gneiss was making him work hard. One of her knives whizzed through the air, barely missing Feldspar's cheek as he dodged.

"Fuck, Gneiss, that nearly took my eye," he shouted, even as he whirled to throw his own knife. The blunt-tipped sparring knife hit her square in the chest, making the small woman grunt in pain. Gneiss caught the knife as it fell and flicked it right back at Feldspar's face. He cursed and dodged again, too slow this time.

"If you don't want to lose an eye, move faster," Gneiss called out, as Feldspar rubbed his cheekbone where the knife had glanced off him. He huffed in response, but the trace of a smile lit his face. Sparring with Gneiss was always guaranteed to put him in a good mood. He'd never had a better fighting partner. Gneiss was tiny, weaker than him by far. She also knew him inside and out, including his weaknesses. When he wanted a real challenge, she was it.

"Again?" Gneiss called out. Feldspar considered it. His muscles were singing with the pleasure of exertion. Any more and he'd be pushing himself to the brink of collapse, and he didn't need that level of distraction anymore. He stretched and checked the angle of the sun.

"You're still throwing a bit low from your left. Perhaps you should rest," he said. Gneiss shook out her left hand. She'd strained a muscle in her arm and it was skewing her aim. She looked surprised at his offer to take break and nodded immediately with obvious relief. An unexpected wave of gratitude hit Feldspar as he realized that Gneiss would have pushed herself to keep going if he needed her to. If he needed to work his body to the brink of collapse to keep his depression at bay, she would be there beside him.

"Lucky for you my aim is atrocious today," Gneiss said dryly. "You are slow as honey this morning. We wouldn't want to upset your beau by marring your pretty face. Especially since I'd wager your slow reflexes may be connected to a lack of sleep." Feldspar blushed and shook his head at her.

"We sleep," Feldspar said, chuckling at how unconvincing he sounded even to his own ears. "Truly, we do sleep."

"The bags under your eyes say otherwise." Gneiss smirked at him. She had been happy-bordering-on-smug about his relationship with Silver. It was mildly annoying, but Feldspar was grateful that she was supportive. Most faeries thought she was coldblooded. They never saw what Feldspar did. For all her gruffness, Gneiss cared deeply about him and his happiness. She didn't always get it right, but he could see her trying to be what he needed as a friend.

Feldspar shook his head and began gathering discarded sparring knives from ground. He turned away from Gneiss as a yawn overtook him. "I saw that," she called out.

Feldspar grinned and waved a hand dismissively at her. Gneiss was right about the source of his exhaustion, of course. Silver had slipped from his bed while it was still dark, half waking Feldspar for a goodbye kiss before making his way to the communal kitchen where he worked. Every day they promised each other they'd go to sleep earlier, and every day they got caught up in each other instead. Feldspar couldn't find it in himself to regret it.

"I'll take a nap later," Feldspar said.

"Alone?"

Feldspar cracked a smile at Gneiss' teasing tone. "If you must know, I was planning to go see if Silver is finished in the kitchen after we report to Mal."

"You know you won't get any sleep, right?"

"That, my dear, is just your opinion. Silver is quite the gentleman."

Gneiss laughed heartily. "Oh, I have no doubt he is. But don't forget that I know the size of your... appetite. If I had to place a wager, I'd say that you are the one who keeps the two of you from getting enough rest."

*****

Feldspar found Mal poring over maps with Daniella in their residence at the top of the Meeting Tree. Dozens of maps and books were spread over their enormous dining table, most of which Feldspar assumed she must have retrieved from the human realm. They kept moving the maps around and Feldspar saw that beneath the maps they had laid out an enormous piece of paper that Daniella was drawing on.

"This is pointless, Dani," Mal grumbled. "One cannot map the Wood. It is a living thing. It moves."

Daniella continued unperturbed. Feldspar stepped into the room and both of them looked up. He offered greetings and walked over to take a closer look. Daniella had cut out and overlaid human maps with her own sketches of familiar landmarks: the creek, orchards, various faeries' trees including his own, the Meeting Tree, creating a gigantic collage of a map. "It's not pointless," she said. "We need to know which land sits at all our borders before you engage with the human government."

Mal sighed. "The border is rather fluid, but here there should be a mountain just within the Wood," he pointed to a section of the hand-drawn map. Daniella frowned at the printed map of the area that had been placed closest and angled it so that the mountain poked into the border she'd drawn.

The Lord looked up and nodded to Feldspar. "Any trouble this morning?"

Feldspar shook his head. "All is well, my Lord."

"Are you certain?"

Feldspar frowned. "Nothing was amiss. Do you feel something on the border?"

Mal closed his eyes, his brow furrowed in concentration. "Every so often I have felt... Something about Silver does not feel quite... it is like a tiny wrinkle in the fabric of the Wood. I cannot understand what it is precisely, but something to do with him. I feel it quite clearly at the moment, as it happens."

Feldspar stiffened. Heat suffused his body and his hands tingled with the tang of adrenaline suddenly coursing through him. "What are you saying?"

"Something is wrong and it has to do with Silver. I would appreciate you looking into it, as you spend so much time with him."

"Nothing is wrong with Silver," Feldspar said through gritted teeth.

Mal gave him an assessing look, unruffled by the obvious anger in his friend's voice. "Imagine, if you will, the sensation of ants crawling over your skin. They are not there all the time, but they appear without warning and try as you might there is nothing you can do to rid yourself of them. That is precisely how it feels wherever he is. It's upsetting the balance of the Wood and it is driving me mad, so I would appreciate if you would investigate what is wrong with Silver."

"Nothing," Feldspar hissed. He inhaled deeply, trying to quell the fire of rage coursing through him. One thought reverberated within him: Mal had no right. No right to speak Silver's name, much less accuse him of being a problem. Feldspar narrowed his eyes at Mal. "You will not blame him for whatever this is. He's an indispensable part of the Wood."

Mal's eyes widened. "Get a hold of yourself, Fel. I am not blaming him for anything. I am merely suggesting that something is out of alignment. It may not be him, per se, but it surely is connected to his presence in some way."

Silver's expression remained stony and Mal's frown deepened. Feldspar was a hair's breadth away from cussing Mal out for being a jealous, judgmental bitch. He drew in a deep, steadying breath, reminding himself that Mal had been a friend for a long time despite his irritating imperiousness. "If something around Silver is out of alignment, it's not him."

Mal sighed and looked up at the ceiling. "I never said it was. Please just... be alert when you are with him. It's in all our best interests, truly. If this continues the balance of the Wood will be disrupted significantly enough for faeries other than myself to sense it."

Feldspar paused. Mal's brow was pinched in frustration. He almost looked like he was in pain. Feldspar's heart thudded in his chest and a cold sweat broke out on his lower back as a thought broke through the fog of irritation that had overtaken him from the moment Mal had said Silver's name. "Is it possible Silver could be in danger?"

Mal frowned and furrowed his brow deeper. Daniella looked up from her mapmaking and laid a hand on his shoulder. She wrinkled her nose in distaste. "Ugh, that is obnoxious." She yanked her away away and gave Feldspar a concerned look. "There's a really weird sensation of wrongness coming from the roots right now. Mal's not making it up." She held Feldspar's gaze steadily and without judgment. They both knew that Silver was most likely in the communal kitchen nestled into the roots of the Meeting Tree. "Fel, I know you don't want to hear it, but there's definitely something happening with Silver or around Silver. I don't think he's necessarily in immediate danger, but something's up for sure."

Feldspar's heart started galloping as he took in the caring expression on Daniella's face and the frustrated look on Mal's. Frustration, he realized, not because of wanting to get his way, but because he was worried. "He's not in danger? You are certain? I can go -- I should go. I need to -- are you sure he isn't hurt?"

"No, no, it doesn't feel like danger," Mal said, his expression smoothing. He shook himself as if he could dislodge the unpleasant sensation. "If there were true danger it would feel much, much worse. Even Daniella can feel danger in the Wood on her own. I would have said something sooner if it felt dangerous."

"Sooner? How long has this been going on?"

Mal winced. "Since his return. The feeling was intermittent, so I was reserving judgment. I assumed it was inconsequential as I sensed nothing when we had dinner together. The feeling has only continued to grow, and I am quite sure it is connected to him. It's happening more frequently, and I must act before it worsens, especially in light of our plans. Check on him, please.

Before Feldspar could ask what plans Mal was referring to, Daniella cleared her throat and gave Mal a pointed look. He grimaced and spoke again. "I also would not be pressing the matter if we were not facing a deadline. In a fortnight the delegation of European faeries will be visiting and I must know what is happening before then. I cannot afford for the balance of the Wood to be in question. Whatever the cause, it must be corrected before our guests arrive.

"More than that, I require his services, provided all is well with him. Silver can speak some of their languages and understands their customs. For the duration of their visit I will require him by my side to serve as an advisor."

Feldspar drew himself up to his full height as the urge to protect his lover shot through him. "Once I know for certain that he is safe and well, I can ask him, but I will not force him. It will be his choice. He does not enjoy large gatherings and being at the center of a major delegation like this is something he has never done. He will not like it."

"Whether he enjoys it is beside the point. I am calling on him as a faery of the Wood to serve in his place for the good of all."

Feldspar's frown deepened. "Silver's place is for him to decide, not you. I will ask him, out of respect for you, but if you value my friendship you will not coerce him into doing this for you."

Mal's green eyes flashed in irritation and Feldspar sensed the air in the room thickening with magic. Daniella placed a hand on Mal's arm. "Love, Feldspar is right. Have him ask and if Silver is nervous we will of course do whatever we can to make him more comfortable. Besides, until we understand why things feel so unsettled around him we have no idea what we're asking for. Let's take one thing at a time and make sure Silver is safe first. We can figure out the European visit later, and see what Silver's up for."

"If that's all, I'm going to go find him," Feldspar said crisply, barely waiting for Mal's nod of dismissal before heading down toward the lower levels of the tree.

******

Feldspar tensed as he approached the communal kitchen. He immediately recognized the sense of wrongness Mal and Daniella had felt from afar. As he descended he steps that took him from the main chamber of the Meeting Tree down into its roots the sensation built. He didn't consider himself particularly sensitive to the balance of the Wood, certainly not in comparison to Mal. Still, if a creature or a faery did something to disrupt their home's natural ecosystem, he could feel it. As he neared the bottom of the stairs the sound of someone shouting and Silver's clipped voice talking back reached him. Feldspar quickened his steps, heart pounding.

"Look, I don't care how you feel about it," Silver snapped. "If you keep kneading the dough that way it's going to turn into a chewy rock."

"Is that how the humans like it, Silver? They teach you to be soft? I'll fucking run this kitchen how I want, and the likes you will not have a single thing to say about it, Silver."

Adrenaline flooded Feldspar. The way the other faery used Silver's name left him feeling slimy and wrong. He didn't care how permissive Silver was with his name. That faery, whoever he was, had no right, and he knew it.

Feldspar's favorite blade was in his hand in half a heartbeat. He twirled it, feeling the balance and heft of it like an extension of himself. He strode through the kitchen door, quickly sizing up the situation. Silver was standing with his arms folded next to the sink. A portly, bearded faery was shouting at him from his position at the prep island in the middle of the room. Nine other faeries chopping vegetables at various stations throughout the room were studiously pretending not to listen.

Silver's eyes widened as he spotted Feldspar over the other faery's shoulder. His gaze flicked to the knife that Feldspar was casually twirling, and he shook his head subtly.

"Morning, sweetheart," Feldspar said, his voice light and controlled. "Is everything all right?" The other faery flinched and turned. Feldspar glared at him. "Explain."

The affable, available sex toy most faeries of the Wood would recognize had disappeared. The Lord's Sword, lethal and commanding, stood in his place. The knife he held gleamed as one that was scrupulously sharpened and polished regularly. The chef paled as he took in the threat in Feldspar's eyes. This was a Feldspar he had only heard rumors of.

"This is my kitchen," he said weakly. "He thinks he can return after six months, practically a human, and take over as head of the kitchen again. It's absurd."

Silver colored and narrowed his eyes at the other faery. "I don't give a rat's ass if you want to be in charge, Chef. If you would just chill out and open your mind a bit, we'd be fine. Instead you try to dictate what I can and can't cook just because you don't trust anything different. I know my shit and you'd see that if you listened to me."

The chef drew in a breath to return the volley when Feldspar cleared his throat. The faery darted a look at him and shut his mouth immediately.

"I did not enjoy the way my lover's name sounded in your mouth. I particularly did not enjoy the way you were disrespecting him and his expertise. You do not have to like him. You do not have to eat his food. But you will respect him. He has a place here, in this kitchen and in this Wood. Do you understand?"

"Very well, I understand. He is yours."

"No," Feldspar said slowly, as if speaking with an addled child. "It is not that he is mine. I am not telling you to respect my claim on him." Feldspar seethed. "I am his, and that makes this all the more dangerous for you, does it not? That faery can command me, the Lord's Sword, with one look, and I will obey without a second thought. So think on this: suppose you irk him again, and I happen to see that irritation cross his face?"

The chef blanched and glanced at Silver. He looked as if he thought the faery might give the order at any moment for Feldspar to cut him down. Feldspar watched as understanding dawned on the other faery's face of how badly he'd miscalculated. Incredibly, the atmosphere of wrongness began to dissipate. Satisfied that his suspicions were correct, Feldspar decided to push a little harder.

"Perhaps I can put this in other terms, just to ensure you and the rest of this kitchen understand fully. Silver's presence here is as important to the balance of the Wood as any faery's. There are a number of faeries who seem to believe that because he travels, he is expendable, or perhaps even an interloper. Your presumption is creating a disturbance in the atmosphere of the Wood. As you can imagine, it is beginning to irritate the Lord. In fact, I just came from his chambers, where he described what I now realize was your little fit of temper, as feeling like ants crawling on his skin. He is most eager to do away with he source of his irritation. I'm certain it goes without saying, but in any I case I will say it just the same. You can wager all you have that the Lord will know my lover is not at fault, and if he does not sense that on his own, I will enlighten him. Am I clear?"

The faery paled. "I understand," he whispered.

"Good. I'm glad that is cleared up. Now back to work."

He strode past the faery, finally daring to look at Silver for his reaction. Feldspar was all too aware that Silver had never seen that side of him. There was virtually never an occasion in the Wood for him to let the vicious thing that lurked inside him out. He rolled his shoulders to release the tension he'd been holding.

Silver was giving him a look, half embarrassed, half sweet. "Hi," he said, wrapping Feldspar in a hug. Feldspar rested his head on Silver's shoulder and squeezed his eyes shut. He felt like a porcupine, all spikes and agitation. He hated feeling like that. He took great pains to not get into conflicts with other faeries so that he wouldn't have to feel that way. Silver rubbed his back soothingly, and Feldspar felt his adrenaline and rage dissipate into the room. He could feel the stifled curiosity and judgment of the other faeries in the room wrapping around him, but Silver's touch banished the sensation.

"Hey babe?" Silver whispered. "I think you scared the shit out of the head chef."

Feldspar cringed against Silver's neck and nodded.

"That kind of shit talking is pretty normal for a kitchen," he said in a louder voice. Feldspar sensed it was more for the benefit of their audience. "Head Chef didn't mean anything by it."

"I admit I got carried away," the chef said stiffly.

Feldspar lifted glanced back at the chef. He obviously looked miffed to have to accept Silver, but he was making enough of an effort for the pervasive sense of wrongness to have diminished considerably. While Silver cleaned up his work station and checked on preparations for the following morning Feldspar mulled over the morning's events. As much as he'd wanted to slap Mal, he was glad he had raised the matter. He wasn't blind. He'd noticed the judgmental looks, the turned backs, the whispers. The faeries of the Wood were deeply suspicious of outsiders, especially humans. It seemed that after years of living part-time in the human realm, Silver had finally crossed the threshold of impropriety. Enough faeries had decided he had no place in the Wood that it was literally upsetting the balance of the enchanted forest. That was a problem that couldn't be ignored. He sighed as he watched Silver hanging up his apron. Silver had just as much right to a place as he did. He just needed to find a way to convince the rest of the faeries, not the least of whom was Mal.

*****

Feldspar snuck glances at Silver the entire walk from the Meeting Tree to the foot of the trail that led to their hidden crater lake. Silver hadn't said much since they'd left the kitchen. Feldspar had envisioned surprisingly Silver with a romantic day of swimming, eating, and napping at the lake. It wasn't off to a great start. He chewed his lip, unsure how to get back on track.