Marriage of the Fae

A/N: Here is Chapter 3. To prevent confusion: the tense changes once here, from present to past, as a character recalls a recent conversation.

Chapter 3

Noelle

I wake to feathery kisses peppering across my wet cheeks. My eyes flutter open. Rhys lies above me in the bed, brushing his lips over the tear tracks on my face, murmuring softly in a language I don't recognize.

"Are you awake, little one?"

I nod through my lethargy, blinking at him, registering the dark curls of his hair, his violet irises ringed in gold and tinged with something resembling concern. It can't be, though. "You were out for just a few blinks, don't worry..." Another flutter of kisses across my cheekbones. "You did so well, my little human...so beautiful."

He called me beautiful...how dare he call me beautiful.

"I hate you."

Another kiss, pressed ever so sweetly to my forehead. "Shh, sweetheart. I know."

**************

Rhys

She lies still in my arms for another few blinks' time, her bare chest rising and falling beneath me. I'm driven to distraction once again by that perfect pair of pearly nipples, still erect atop her heaving breasts. I recall my mouth around them, the way they peaked when I suckled each one in turn, her delicate mewls at the touch of my tongue.

Her stomach growls.

Noelle shifts with discomfort, those creamy mounds blushing a pleasant shade of rose under my gaze. Yet another human weakness, the need for sustenance every few hours rather than every few days, as is typical for Fae. With that small sound from within her, I'm reminded again just how fragile this little human is. Deny her food for long enough, and she would fall feebly into my arms...

I am no sadist. Her stomach grumbles once more, deepening her blush to an almost unbecoming shade. Noelle rubs her hand rather sheepishly over her abdomen, as if trying to quiet its complaints.

"You're hungry," I say. Her slim jaw tightens. What a funny thing; does she think to conceal her weaknesses from me? Impossible.

"I've

been

hungry for a while now." The imp scowls darkly at me, as if I did not just have her over the edge of our marriage bed, reddening her bottom with my palm for a similar bout of defiance, mere moments ago. I could do it again.

Later.

"We can get you some food, then." I slide my hands under her shoulders. She stiffens, but I ignore the response and make to pull her up into a sitting position. Noelle immediately goes limp in my arms, trying to send herself back down onto the mattress. Imp indeed.

"Don't help me, I can sit up on my own."

Again, the insolent little bird testing the limits of her own strength...and mine. How can she still see herself to be a bear? "Remember how weak you were after our last coupling, sweetheart? You don't need to be brave."

"I'm not being brave, I—" I release my hands from behind her shoulders and she falls onto her back in half a blink. "Oh!"

"Do you see? Would you like some help?" I ask. I watch her; it seems to take a moment for her to regain her composure, those deep brown eyes glazed with vertigo. Helpless, lovely little thing. I press my lips together to conceal a smile.

She rearranges her expression into that signature scowl. "Give me a minute."

"Take your time." While she goes about her struggle, I leave the bed and walk to the pale yearnwood desk at the other side of the room, feeling the subtle twitch of the Elixir's thread as I put the shortest of distance between us. My cock is still wet from our spending as it swings between my legs. I'm occupied at once with the image of Noelle on her knees, cleaning it for me with that soft mouth, her lips still swollen from my bites and kisses.

I have not been this distracted by the thought of a woman since perhaps a century ago, when I was first coming into my manhood. Certainly not a human woman...never a human woman. If not for the unquestioned bond of the Elixir, that would be nearly taboo, more so even than if I were to lie with another man.

I shake the thoughts from the forefront of my mind and open the desk, finding a deck of gilded paper, each sheet identical to that which bore our invitation to the council meeting earlier today. I take a sheet and lay it flat on the desk, pressing four fingers of my right hand to the page until it bears my message. I pick up the sheet and take it to the door of the room, slipping it underneath.

When I turn back to Noelle, she is watching intently, having finally worked herself into a sitting position with the sheets clutched around her small body. "What did you just do?"

I suppose the ways in which we Fae communicate would be new to her. "I sent out a request for a meal to be brought," I explain.

"How? You didn't write anything." Noelle leans forward unconsciously, and I find myself enjoying her curiosity. The scowl is gone from her face for the moment as she seeks to learn something new.

I can't help the small smile that plays on my lips. "The paper I took out—did you see the paper?" She nods and I continue, "It is the most common form of communication here. It is pressed from whitegrass, which grows abundantly in my clan's territory and can be enchanted to absorb thought and intent.

"I place my fingers against the page and will a message into the fibers, which then can be read by other Fae. In many cases, the message contains both

thought

, the message itself, and

intent

, which may be who the message is meant for, where it must go, or even a wish for it to remain invisible to all except those by whom the message is meant to be seen."

Noelle's eyes are wide. "

How

, though? Is the grass engineered in some way? Is it the nature of the grass to do that even without being turned into paper? What do you mean by enchanting?" Her interest, even in something that to me is so commonplace, is intoxicating. I return to the bed, and she barely shies away when I sit next to her, too engrossed in her questioning. I'm disappointed in myself that I've nearly reached the end of my capacity to explain such basic, mindless magic.

"I suppose it would have to do with the structure of the grass, yes...I don't know further than that, but other grasses cannot perform the same way, even when made into a paper." Why didn't I pay better attention in my studies of such things? I was never interested in the chemistry of enchantment or micro-magic; I was too preoccupied with history and lessons in Clan politics. The grass has fairly high foreign trade value; I do know that. "I believe the grass carries the ability to be...engineered...in such a way, that was then discovered to be useful in sending messages."

"Some sort of funny biotechnology then?" Noelle seems to be muttering to herself now, which bothers me; I want her to ask me more questions. Even ones to which I don't know the answers. How strange.

Her eyes are suddenly on mine. "Could I have a piece of the paper?" she asks. There's a knock on the door and she jumps. Skittish little kitten.

"That'll be the food. I'll give you a sheet of paper to look at after you eat." I stand up, leaving her to her thoughts for a blink as I pull on my pants from where they're crumpled on the floor and make my way to the door. I open it to find a servant holding a tray, her eyes respectfully downcast. I take the tray and dismiss the woman, taking it to the bed once the door is again locked behind me.

At the sight of the tray Noelle's stomach snarls loudly. She grimaces and again presses her hand to it under the sheet, still uncomfortable in showing this particular weakness.

I set the tray down and remove the cover, pushing it toward her once the contents are displayed. "Eat."

**************

Noelle

I frown at the apparent order, but my stomach isn't hindered in the least. When was the last time I ate? It would have been at work that last day, which couldn't have been much more than maybe thirty-six hours ago, but it feels like it could have been months.

Taking care to keep the sheet pulled up over my chest, I lean forward to quickly assess the food. The tray is full of color, a strange contrast to this pale room. A wooden bowl of fresh red and purple berries sits on one corner; beside it, a green salad of some sort on a plate. Another bowl of various brown nuts and dark dried fruits is in place next to a tureen of what looks to be a creamy golden grain. Just the smell of it is intoxicating.

I pick up a purple berry from its bowl and examine it; it looks almost like a raspberry, but the color is off. Upon taking a bite it bursts in my mouth, its juices running over my lips and across my tongue. Delicious. I pop another handful into my mouth, ignoring the juices smeared over my lips. I'm starving.

Between bites I glance over at Rhys, expecting him to look bored, as he often seems to when he's not actively tormenting me. Instead, those violet eyes are staring straight into mine. He's been watching me eat. I quickly wipe my chin with a frown, but his intent expression doesn't go away. Rhys has his elbow resting on his knee, his own chin seated in his hand, and a small, curious smile on his face.

I swallow. "What?"

He barely blinks. "Eat, Noelle," is all he says.

"I was eating, but you're staring at me. Could you not?"

He sighs, sitting up straight. "You seemed so...engrossed in your meal. It was interesting to watch." Rhys' eyes don't leave me, even as he seems to come out of his reverie. Instead, his hand comes out to caress my chin, swiping off the last of the berry juice with his thumb.

I shiver and pull back, but he's already gotten what he wanted. He brings his thumb up to his own lips and licks off the juices. I'm distracted for a moment by the flick of his tongue before I frown and turn back to my food. The berries are gone, and that's probably a good thing anyway. I'm not sure I could eat any more of them with the Prince of Darkness giving me sex eyes at every bite.

I start in on the warm grain bowl instead; the stuff sort of resembles a finely ground, creamy oatmeal. I pick up the intricately carved wooden spoon beside the tureen and scoop some into my mouth. It's a savory, lightly spicy flavor, definitely different from oatmeal. Again, delicious.

I can feel Rhys' gaze on me as I finish the food. Doesn't he have princely duties or something that should be taking up his time?

I don't have much to lose by asking. He's seemed generally open to questions anyway, even almost, I don't know, engaged somewhat, when I asked about the grass paper.

I bite my lip. "Rhys," I say.

His expression darkens; I remember he doesn't like me using his name. Whatever, he uses mine all the time. He'll just have to get over the fact that we're not only husband and wife when it's convenient for his dick.

"Yes, Noelle?"

"Don't you have things to do, as a prince?" Something occurs to me. "Or, well, as a king, now?"

Rhys lifts a dark eyebrow. "I am not officially a king until I have received word from the council that a ruler is necessary. That may be when my mother passes on, but most likely will not occur unless we find ourselves in conflict with another clan. I understand that is not how humans appoint their monarchs?"

I shake my head. "No, it's not. Human countries with monarchs always have one present, and some have both a monarch and a council of sorts, I guess."

"Right," Rhys says. He seems pleased with himself to have known this. He scoots a bit closer on the bed, his hand over the sheets by my hip. I decide to ignore it. "Otherwise, I am a prince in title only, and serve as more of an important delegate to the council than anything.

"There have been no council meetings since you came here, other than that joke of a ceremony that recognized us as husband and wife," he finishes, his expression growing darker.

"You didn't like it either?" I ask quietly.

Rhys scoffs, his hand fisting in the sheets. I cringe. "How several of the council members behaved was affronting at best," he mutters. His voice grows louder, "Deliberately delaying their ceremonial stand was an insult to me as an Elixir-bound Fae—doubly an insult to me, in fact, as it was an insult to you as well, my wife." Naturally he's concerned not for my well-being, but over the fact that some of his people don't care for his favorite toy.

Nice.

Rhys continues. "Most importantly, however, it was an insult to the Elixir itself. To go so far in protesting a marriage as to deny the Elixir's bond...well, those from our own Grass clan protesting could be seen as mutiny at best. And if not for the closeness of our clans, those from Opal doing so could be considered an act of war."

"Oh."

Damn.

I've gathered well enough from the talk of the Elixir that it was important, a sort of religious icon almost, for these people, but not until now did I realize just how grave that importance was. "Even though I'm human? Even you don't seem to like that fact..."

Rhys is immediately in my face, his eyes flashing a deep indigo. "As a prince of the Fae, it is my duty to protect the honor of the Elixir. And in doing so, I will protect the one chosen by it to be my wife, human or no." His hand comes up to my hair, his fingers threading through my tangled locks. The thread seems to hum complacently. "Do you understand, Noelle?"

His voice has again taken on that quality of a parent speaking plainly to a young child...but there's a darker edge, one that wasn't there before when he chose to patronize me. This is important to him. I have the feeling it should be important to me.

"Yes," I say.

"Yes, what, Noelle?"

"Yes, I understand."

He nods, and I think he'll pull away now, but the intensity of his grip in my hair doesn't falter. His face stays close to mine, his lips nearly brushing my own. "Good girl."

There's a knock on the door.

**************

Jerome

It wasn't two hours after the mild disaster that was the council meeting, that the High Priest Aodh called me back to his official chambers. The wizened man sat on the only piece of furniture in the room save for a table: a simple marrowood stool at one end of the room. For all his titles and grandiose ceremony, Priest Aodh is a humble one.

"What do you think of Prince Rhys' bride?" Aodh asked. His voice betrayed no emotion; the man has very little bias when discussing matters such as this one. Personally I believe he lacks the ability to pass any sort of hateful judgment.

He knew I have had little interaction with the human Noelle; Aodh was giving me the opportunity to turn the conversation as I felt comfortable. Never asking too much, simply asking. After eight centuries of elite service to the Elixir and to the people of the Grass Clan, Aodh is tactful to a fault even on his worst day. I've heard a few drunk courtiers proclaim that the priest could seduce any woman he wished, were it not for his vow of celibacy.

As a royal advisor and companion to the prince, it is usually my job to be politic as well—but I knew that Aodh wasn't looking for tact in my words, only as much honesty as I wished to betray.

"I know little of her, Priest. She seems charming enough, reserved but not unintelligent, at least for a human."

"'For a human,' why do you say that?" Aodh's tone remained exceptionally impassive.

A slip of the tongue.

Others are not less intelligent, only different

...a mantra from my days in school. The same must apply to humans, surely.

"I was being facetious; I apologize, Priest."

"Do not apologize, Jerome, I am glad you brought it up. Would you argue that the bigotry you displayed there could deal damage, if not checked in the graceful way that you check yours?"

Another man's accusation of bigotry would sting, but in Aodh's voice, it was simply a statement of fact. I am embarrassed to say that my unconscious prejudice runs deep. "I would. You're absolutely right, Priest." I allowed it easily and without resentment.

"Do you think that such dangerous prejudice was shown in the Council meeting today, among our own as well as from the Opal Clan?"

"They very pointedly took a few blinks before standing to affirm the decision of the Elixir, Priest," I said. I was not surprised in the least by the direction of the conversation; this very thing came to mind the moment the protestors refused to stand. I knew I was not the only one to catch such an egregious display, nor the meaning behind it. "They chose to put their prejudice against the human girl over their dedication to the Clan and to the Elixir."

Aodh nodded his head, his hand never leaving his impressive beard. "This will have consequences far beyond anyone's embarrassment," he said, "including that of the Prince. I am sure he has already mulled over what this means. If he is wise, and I believe him to be, he has also discussed it with young Noelle."

This took me aback somewhat. "Do you think he will discuss it with her, Priest? At their first meeting he seemed...less than enthusiastic."

"If he is not ready yet to act out of respect for her, I believe he will speak to her of it anyway, if only out of a sense of responsibility to the Elixir's bond...or perhaps anticipating a blow to his own ego were she to act without knowledge of the Elixir's importance."

To be truthful, I could not picture Prince Rhys acting out of respect for the human girl, but I said nothing to Aodh.

"Have you spoken to the Opal Clan council and priests of this?" I asked instead.

"Very briefly. Princess Siobhan said she wished to speak to me of it as well, but it is not my place to discuss the matter with her. That ought to be left up to the priest of the Opal Clan."

I nodded. To my knowledge, there has been no interaction between Rhys and Siobhan since the council meeting. I pity each the potential loss of a friend.

"As his advisor and confidante," Aodh continued, "I would like you to discuss with Prince Rhys what we have discussed here."

I told him I would, and made my way to the royals' quarters after exchanging pleasantries.

**************

When I knock on the door of Prince Rhys and Noelle's chambers, it takes a blink or two for any answer to come from within the room.

Finally, "Yes?" Prince Rhys calls from the other side of the door.

"It's me, my prince." After so long, he'll recognize my voice.

A shifting sound inside, as if someone is positioning themselves on the bed. "Come in, Jerome."

There is a weak locking spell on the door, one I loathe to imagine the purpose of. It is easily overcome by any Fae, but would not be decipherable by a human. I open the door and step inside. Almost immediately I step back, abashed. While Prince Rhys stands fully clothed, Noelle sits up in the bed, her face flushed, the sheets pulled up over her apparently bare chest. I realize she has not formally met me; to her, this is as if being walked in on by a stranger.

"I apologize for the intrusion—I ought to come back later," I mutter. By her expression, Noelle seems to agree.

"No...what did you need?" Rhys asks. Noelle shifts uncomfortably, her jaw tight, her expression a mixture of embarrassment and annoyance.

"Perhaps the lady would like to dress first? I'll turn away." I give her a small smile and she seems to relax slightly before she looks to Rhys.

Rhys frowns and steps in front of the bed, concealing Noelle from my sight as if claiming possession over a piece of artwork. Noelle leans over, trying to see his face. "Rhys, I'd like to get dressed."

I turn away just in time to see Rhys pick up the shimmering golden dress from where it lies on the floor in a puddle. There's a rustle of fabric and the sound of feet hitting the floor. I turn to see the girl standing beside Rhys, watching me curiously. Only now is her diminutive size thrown into full effect. I had known that humans were smaller than we Fae, but the pale woman seems nearly waifish beside the Prince, the very top of her head reaching just to the middle of his chest. If there were something untoward going on in their bed, the girl could do little to resist him.