Still slowly burning... don't worry, sex is coming in later chapters. I'm just enjoying the feels. XOXO, Im
*****
Gneiss swirled her wineglass as she looked out over the crowd in the Meeting Tree from her ornately embroidered chaise lounge. As usual the enormous tree echoed with the sounds of faeries laughing, dancing, and mingling. Nearly all the seating areas had been filled early in the night and the party was in full swing.
The air was charged with sex and frenetic energy. The dance floor in the center of the hollowed out tree was already filled with undulating bodies. She watched as a group of faeries stumbled into one of the lounging areas at the edge of the dance floor and tumbled down in a pile of writhing limbs.
Mal and Daniella were seated on the dais at the far end of the tree, watching the festivities. Daniella was sitting on Mal's lap and he was whispering something in her ear. Daniella's eyes were trained on a female faery riding her lover at the edge of the dance floor. Mal was lazily stroking a hand up and down Daniella's thigh. Gneiss wouldn't be surprised if the two of them ended up fucking right there on the throne. It wouldn't be the first time.
She shifted to look around the tree again. She'd lost track of Feldspar. When they'd arrived he had taken one look at Mal and Daniella on their throne and had walked off into the crowd. Watching Feldspar work the crowd was like watching a rabbit move through a field by tracking the waving grass it left in its wake. She couldn't see him, but everywhere he'd been the faeries were louder, brighter, happier. He had that effect on people. It was hard to say if it was a subtle bit of magic or just his natural charm. He was hilarious and charismatic when he was on, and these days he took pains to make sure he was almost always on. She scanned the crowd, trying to trace the trail of euphoria he'd left as he moved around the tree. The last time she'd had eyes on him he'd been draining a nearly overflowing glass of mead before disappearing again into the throng.
That left her with Nephrite, her other long-time roommate. Nephrite sipped her wine and gazed out across the frolicking faeries. She saw Gneiss scanning the crowd and gestured across the tree. Feldspar was laughing uproariously with a few faeries standing near the entrance to the tree.
"He is a remarkable actor," Nephrite said, playing with a strand of her silken black hair.
Gneiss sighed deeply. She ran a hand through her pixie cut and frowned. She had to agree with Nephrite. Feldspar was a good actor. If she hadn't known him for half her life she would have trusted his easy laugh and playful banter. "I despise seeing him like this," she said. "I miss hearing his true laugh."
"As do I," Nephrite agreed.
Gneiss sighed. "I feel as if I have tried all that I can to help him. Nothing seems to make a material difference."
Nephrite made a noncommittal noise. Gneiss looked sharply at her friend. Nephrite was quiet, and because she was quiet she was able to watch in a way that most could not. Gneiss had learned many years before that though Nephrite spoke infrequently, when she did it was imperative to listen.
"What have I missed?" she demanded.
"What was it that Feldspar wanted from Mal? The one thing that Mal was never able to give him?"
"He wanted Mal to stay with us."
"Yes, but why?" Nephrite pressed.
"I suppose he was in love with Mal."
"Yes, precisely. He always hoped that Mal would fall in love with him, and when he finally, unequivocally ended the relationship all of Feldspar's hopes were dashed. Feldspar has always been romantic at heart."
"I love him," Gneiss groused. Nephrite gave her a dry look. "Yes, alright, fine. I can admit that I'm not what he needs right now."
"Do you think you and Mal together were what he needed?" Nephrite's tone was quiet and sharp. Gneiss frowned as the question settled in her stomach, leaden and painful. She sighed. No, she and Mal had never been wholly good for Feldspar. As good as the sex had been, as good as their friendship had been, Feldspar had always wanted something more. Gneiss steeled herself and met Nephrite's eyes and the quiet rebuke there.
"No," she said evenly. "We were not, and I admit we should have been more careful with Feldspar's heart. What am I to do about it now?"
Nephrite hummed. "Feldspar needs to be with someone who looks at him the way he used to look at Mal. He also needs friends who respect his feelings and at least make an attempt at amends for past carelessness."
Gneiss sucked her teeth. "I have tried -- I cannot just produce a new lover for him out of thin air." Nephrite clicked her tongue dismissively in response. Shame and frustration warred within Gneiss. Nephrite wasn't wrong. She needed to find a way to make it up to Feldspar, and so did Mal.
*****
Silver blinked in the multicolored lights of the Meeting Tree and paused in the doorway taking in the scene. The wild faery music pulsed through him, fiddles, pipes and drums calling to him to join the mass of wild joy on the dance floor.
He scanned the room for the green-haired faeries who tended the orchards and gardens. He had brought back some seeds he wanted them to help him grow for a kitchen garden. His black thumb was legendary, but they could get anything to thrive. The tree was packed wall to wall and the party had already reached a feverish pitch. He silently cursed himself for getting carried away making cheesecake, even though the extra time had resulted in flawless, creamy texture. Now it was late and everyone he had wanted to talk to was probably smashed, high out of their mind, or screwing on the dance floor.
He spotted a few shocks of green hair in the mass of bodies on the dance floor and sighed. He was tempted to just go back to his place, which only made him feel more like an out-of-place loser. He would take a quiet beer with friends over a gigantic rave any day.
Just as he was about to go, a peal of loud laughter caught his attention. Silver looked toward the sound and froze. Feldspar was a few dozen paces off to his right, with a group of faeries hanging on his every word. Feldspar ran a hand through his golden hair, pushing the slightly sweat-dampened curls back from his face as he talked, his other hand still gesturing wildly. Silver couldn't help but take in the perfect lines of Feldspar's body. His shirt was tight over his honey skin and every time he moved it revealed a strip of taut skin at his waist. Silver wanted to grab Feldspar by the hand, find a dark corner, and rip his shirt off. The tantalizing glimpses of skin weren't nearly enough.
Silver shook his head and cursed silently. He was losing it. He glanced back at the door. He could leave and Feldspar would never know he'd been there. He wanted to get to know Feldspar, but not here. Not now. Not at this party. He felt off-balance and out of his element. The idea of Feldspar realizing that he didn't fit in at all was unsettling.
Silver had spent more than his fair share of time thinking about the faery man. He'd obsessed over the way Feldspar had lit his body on fire in their one night together months before. Little snatches of Feldspar had taken over his brain: Feldspar laughing with his friends; Feldspar sparring with the Lord of the Wood, sweat dripping down his smooth chest; Feldspar moaning in delight over a banquet; Feldspar floating serenely in the crater lake, Feldspar, Feldspar, Feldspar. All those little Feldspar snippets had coalesced into a full-blown, teenage-obsession-level crush. All he was missing was a Feldspar poster above his bed.
It was mortifying. If he left quickly he'd be spared the risk of humiliating himself. He reminded himself again why he needed to get his feelings for Feldspar under control. One: Feldspar was the Lord's Sword. He lived in a completely different world from Silver that was all high magic and dire consequences and fated lovers. Two: Feldspar seemed different since Silver had returned. He still laughed and joked, but there was a deep undercurrent of sadness that worried Silver. He wasn't sure Feldspar was in the right headspace for a relationship. Three, last but definitely not least: Feldspar was a flirt who slept with people all the time. Their one night together had meant everything to Silver, and probably nothing to Feldspar.
As Silver debated, the group of faeries broke into laughter again. Feldspar's laugh was coming out in choked barks and there was tightness around his eyes. Silver frowned. That had to be the fakest imitation of Feldspar's real laugh he'd ever seen, though nobody else seemed to notice. They were still laughing and slapping Feldspar on the back. Silver moved toward the group without thinking. All he could think was that he needed to rescue Feldspar. Whatever was happening, he clearly wasn't enjoying it.
"Hey guys," he called out as he approached. His heart hammered in his chest. This was the worst part of any party: the moment right before finding out if you fit in. He knew there were a fair number of the faeries in the Wood who didn't trust him. In their view any faery who spent half the year among humans was hardly a faery at all. The faeries with Feldspar watched his approach, their faces ranging from disinterested to disdainful.