This is part of a series that is essentially a novella, so if you haven't read Chapter 1 and 2, you might want to start there as the story won't make much sense without that context. Links to them:
https://www.literotica.com/s/a-forced-union
and
https://www.literotica.com/s/shadows-of-obligation
I published chapters 3 and 4 together because I couldn't find a way to include a... moneyshot... in chapter three. Hope you enjoy it!
Chapter Three: A Moonlit Pact
Elowen clung to the pad of the skydancer, torn between gazing about her in wonder or keeping her eyes averted in fear. They crossed into the Whisperwood after lunch, leaving Aurelian behind them and entering the fae realm proper. Though only marked by a gray stone, the world changed from one step to the next on that border.
The colors were richer, more vibrant, with a shimmering quality that made everything seem to glow from within. The very air pulsed with an energy that sang through her veins, leaving her feeling invigorated despite her sleepless night.
Thalion had provided a salve for the slight bruises and aches left by his flogger, though her seat on the Skydancer still held a measure of discomfort. She shifted, trying to push aside the memory of her desires.
Am I turning into one of them?
The face of her father, tired and alone on his deathbed, haunted her, and she shoved it away, focusing on the entrancing beauty of the forest.
Trees, unlike any she had seen before, stretched toward the sky, their leaves a kaleidoscope of fall colors. Brightly colored bloomfay flittered among the brown stems of summer flowers. Their dragonfly wings shone in the dappling light and they laughed like silver tinkling bells as they chased each other through the air.
Thalion stopped once or twice, collecting small, glowing packages from the little fairies.
Elowen edged her mount closer to Diarmuid. "Why is he doing that?"
The black sidhe smiled at her. "He's collecting fairy dust."
"What does fairy dust do?"
"It powers our magic." His smile broadened as her face puckered in perplexity. "You'll see when we stop for the night."
A thrill of fear coiled through Elowen. Magic. Another thing her father had warned her about. It had been easy to avoid in human lands where only dark sorcerers and exiled fae held power, but here it was all around them. "Can anyone use magic?"
"If you know the ogham script, you can craft spells and power them through the dust." He searched her face as the column stopped again. "But Lord Thalion is an eirnacht and for them, the dust powers their magic. Fire, in his case."
So that's why the pendant is always warm.
Her gaze drifted to her husband, who tucked the little glowing packages into a belt pouch. "Do the bloomfay give the dust to anyone who asks?"
"By the Dagda, no!" Diarmuid laughed. "The Whisperwood belongs to no one, but Lord Thalion could expand his lands to include it if he wished—especially now that he has claimed Aurelian. The bloomfay ladies pay him in fairy dust for their freedom."
Elowen's brows knitted together. "Isn't that just like paying a tax?"
"Somewhat," Diarmuid said with a low chuckle. "But they are free of his laws and do not need to answer his call should he ride to war. One of the wee folk once told me you could change who you pay tribute to, but if you change who you pay tax to, they call it treason."
That surprised a laugh from Elowen, and she relaxed a little. "Why only the ladies? Don't bloomfay men pay tribute?"
"The men live with the sidhe courts and visit the ladies' domains." Diarmuid pointed at a briar patch where a fairy rested in the heart of a rose. "They come together to share their lust, but they don't marry as we do."
"Oh." The heat of a blush stained Elowen's cheeks and they rode on.
A nixie danced gracefully in a crystal-clear stream, movements fluid and ethereal, fairy light shining in her naked breasts. She beckoned as she sang, calling them to join her. Elowen averted her eyes.
Even the stones and rocks seemed to hold a hidden life of their own. Small, mischievous earth spirits peeked out from the crevices, their eyes twinkling with mirth.
It was a wondrous place, and it was her world now.
No! It is only the world I live in. I am human.
She bit her lip, eyes turning to her husband. Thalion had become considerate once more, helping her mount, calling for rest when tension strained her shoulders.
Why had he spent a royal boon on Aurelian? Why was he so secretive about it?
Elowen looked away, tracing the flight of a pair of bloomfays. Even if he told her, what could she do with the knowledge? She chewed on the inside of her cheeks.
Last night, she would have done anything for release. Was she turning into his creature? Was this what her father had meant?
Abruptly, the delicate colors didn't look as fresh. This was Thalion's world. And he had made her long for the stinging slap of his hands on her pale flesh, even the sharp bite of leather across her breasts.
What is wrong with me?
The shadows deepened as the sun sank into the west. Thalion called a halt in a small glade with a tinkling stream running between luminous, moss-covered rocks. Tall tree trunks reached for the sky, casting long shadows over the ground.
Elowen dismounted with care, her muscles aching.
In the center of the glade, two gigantic hulked, meeting to form a triangle space between them. Glittering crystal traced out ogham runes in the stone edifice and Elowen caught her breath.
She turned to Diarmuid. "What is that?"
"It is a waystone. If you know the tides of magic and the proper runes to activate, you can open a gate between a pair of them and travel a thousand miles in the blink of an eye." He took the reins of her skydancer. "Tomorrow morning, Lord Thalion will open a path to Pyreheart's waystone." His sapphire gaze captured hers. "Are you ready?"
The smile crumbled off Elowen's face, and her eyes flicked to Thalion and back. Tomorrow, they'd be at his home. He'd bed her in the center of his power, and their marriage would be consummated under Queen Mab's law, whatever that meant.
It means Lysander is safe. It means Aurelian is safe.
She took a deep breath and lifted her chin. "Yes."
"Good." The priest patted her hand, the silver cauldron around his neck glinting. He led the skydancers away as the honor guard set up camp.
They moved with sure confidence, erecting tents, gathering firewood, and preparing supper. Diarmuid and Thalion groomed the mounts, talking quietly while they worked. Only Elowen had nothing to do.
Nothing except be his.
She couldn't spend another night just sitting here, worrying about what she would become. Tomorrow, he'd claim her in Pyreheart. Would there be anything left of her? Or would she be just a vessel for his painful desires? Doubts burned in her throat, and she turned away from the fire.
Thalion's voice called her back as she reached the tree line. "Elowen, where are you going?"
Reluctantly, she stopped, bracing her hand on the bark of a tall oak tree. "I thought only to take a walk, my lord."
"You may if you wish. There is little in the forest that would truly cause you harm." Twigs snapped behind her and he put his hands on her shoulders, turning her and lifting her chin. "But take nothing and do not let the fairy creatures touch you. In time, you will learn the rules of our realm, but until you do, be cautious."
Elowen forced herself to meet his starlit gaze. "Yes, my lord."
"Good. Also, here." He gave her a small pendant filled with iridescent fairy dust. An ogham rune had been carved into the glass. "For a light and in case you get lost. Snap your finger and it will shine, snap again for darkness. If you get lost, kiss the rune and ask it to guide you back to your lover." The corners of his mouth quirked. "Unless you've kissed anyone except me."
Heat scalded her cheeks, and she shook her head, taking the necklace and slipping it on. It dangled between her breasts, a colorful gem casting scintillating light on her pale skin.
A small worm of curiosity raised its head. "What does the rune mean?"
Thalion arched his brows. "Luis. It means rowan tree." He searched her face. "Would you like to learn the ogham script?"
Her heart skipped a beat. If she knew the runes, she could craft spells of her own. But she'd promised her father to stay away from magic. Shoving the curiosity aside, she ducked her chin. "No, my lord."
"The offer is there, if you wish." He kissed her forehead and released her shoulders.
The caress set soft moth wings fluttering in her chest. "Thank you."
But the bustle of the camp still scratched at Elowen, and she slipped between the trunks, heading deeper into the forest.
Meandering feet carried her along a faint path, her steps softened by the cushion of lush moss. Shafts of fading sunlight pierced the canopy overhead, casting a warm, golden glow that danced around her. An earthy scent of damp soil and the sweet fragrance of unseen blossoms enveloped her senses like an intoxicating perfume. As she walked, the soft whispers of the forest accompanied her, the rustling leaves and gentle murmur of the breeze telling ancient stories of the land.
Elowen trailed her hands over the mighty trunks, mindful of where she put her feet. Bloomfay sang as she passed and for the first time since the sidhe army had poured over Aurelian's borders, she was at peace.
The tree trunks grew thinner and parted, revealing a hidden glade like a vision from a dream. Vibrant green grass shimmered with each breath of wind, rippling underfoot. Flowers adorned the edges of the glade, lining a gorgeous crystalline stream.
Elowen dropped to her knees, reaching out a wondering finger. She had never seen plants like these. They glistened like precious jewels, their petals reflecting a myriad of colors as they swayed gracefully in the evening light.
Her fears about Thalion, her worries for Lysander—they all fell away as she touched the flower's soft petals. Its beauty sang to her, and she smiled, sitting back on her legs. She had stumbled upon a secret, a treasure hidden away from the world, and for a perfect moment, nothing else mattered.