Interlude
Since very few people had ever actually seen a fae, it was commonly believed that faerie creatures were tiny and looked like elves with butterfly wings. It was also commonly held that they were mercurial troublemakers who loved pranks. While it was true that there was a sort of faerie called a sprite that did indeed look that way, and that the fae of the Summer Court were, in fact, quite chaotic and playful, there was another side of the faerie that only the truly wise knew. The fae of the Winter Court were serious, even dour, and lived very structured, rules-oriented lives.
Queen Esaund of the Winter Court was a thin, coldly lovely woman of some 4 centuries; still young as fae lifespan were counted. Like all of the Noble Fae, she was thin and willowy, and tall for their kind. Some of the males reached as much as 5 feet in the prime of their lives. Her skin was purest white, like new fallen snow, and her hair the pale blue of a clear winter sky. Her eyes were the gray of snow-laden clouds. Today the tempestuous young Queen was frustrated. Warlord Thedrun had come to her, asking for safe haven for his men for a night, which she was glad to give... until she found that he had brought a woman with him. A human woman. Queen Esaund had never been jealous of his many fey lovers... after all, were not the fey the most beautiful beings in all of creation? Irresistible to any mortal. But to bring a human woman... and to choose to spend his time with her instead of the Queen or one of her maidens? It was almost too great an insult to bear.
She stalked naked, her small breasts barely moving with each step, pert nipples of dark blue pointing fiercely, partly from exposure to cold air, and partly from rage. Troubled glances passed between the armored warriors standing in ranks on opposite sides of the path she stalked toward the back of her throne chamber. The chamber itself was a triumph of faerie elemental magic, shaped entirely of ice, but rivaling the great halls of the Dwarf Kings in raw physical beauty. The warriors, resplendent in armor crafted magically from natural elements and carrying long, thin rapier blades and spiked bucklers. These were the elite warriors of the Winter Court. Their lives were risked not only every time they entered battle, but also by their very service to the often fickle-hearted Noble Fae. Esaund was no exception; as fiery and shifting emotionally as she was cold and unchanging in appearance. Her word was unquestioned law, and should her elite troops fail her, death would be the best they could hope for. Fae Royalty had banished entire legions of their Elite in the past, and for a fae creature, nothing was more horrible than permanent exile to the mundane realms of the humans.
Esaund finally stopped before Tiriven, one of her youngest warriors. Barely a man by fae standards, he had just passed his 100th year. The fae standing near him had to summon their will not to snicker, for they were experienced and knew what was coming next. But the loyalty of the elite legion was unmatched, and they were silent regarding their "other duty"... even to new members of the legion itself. The boy, well trained himself, hid his fear well. Esaund gestured with a single finger, and he stepped out of line. Wordlessly, she stripped away his armor, using magic to tug at the straps and strings, before similarly removing his clothes. To his credit, he remained silent as she reached down and gathered his limp manhood in her hand, considering it as if it were a potential meal before releasing it.
"You and the men to your right and left, come up to my throne." She turned and headed toward the great ice-construct that was the throne of the Winter Queen, gesturing with a hand to force the ice to re-shape itself, the back of the seat reclining until it was flat. More experienced than Tiriven, the other two fae warriors stripped their armor off and nudged him forward. Their Queen lounged back on her throne, tracing a long-nailed fingertip across her thigh as she watched the three naked warriors approach.
One of the two experienced warriors whispered to Tiriven "Don't worry son... you'll get her mouth, not much you can screw up that way..."