Lorelei's Note: This story continues where the Warm Welcome series left off, albeit with a bit of a timeskip. Content warning for nonconsent, mind control, and bad archaic modern English LISTEN I DID TRY
Please remember that consensual nonconsent and hypnosis should always be practiced safely and ethically in the real world. :)
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Gretel shivered. It was a harsh evening to be traveling this dark road alone. It was colder and harsher still knowing the warm, soft bed--and company--he'd left behind.
He'd finally made it out of the sorceress sorority's clutches. After months of being their good, docile little plaything, he'd finally mustered the will to... to...
He flushed, drawing his wizard's robes tighter around him. Okay, he'd finally admitted to Maye that he couldn't ever escape on his own and they'd happily sent him on his way--albeit with promises that he'd always be welcome back under their roof.
A welcome that would be hard to resist right now, he thought miserably, clutching his arms tight to his chest as the wind picked up and sent snowflakes swirling into his fluffy pink hair. He'd caught a glimpse of his reflection in a frozen pool earlier that day. With all the white in his hair, he might as well have aged twenty years.
He'd known it wouldn't be easy on the outside, when he'd left the Ivory Tower just two months ago. Gretel had never experienced a winter away from the safehaven within the Mage Tower. In the Tower, they were shielded from all dangers, including inclement weather.
And hunger, he thought, biting his lip as his stomach rumbled. He'd gotten a little too used to being fed regularly by Abril. Being held in her lap, or held down, or pinned with her in
his
lap while she popped delectable treats past his moaning parted lips, cooing praise and encouragement and silencing him with sweet kisses whenever he tried to protest--or, even better, by popping a nipple past his lips and encouraging him to suckle like a good boy, with Maye nearby teasing at how easily, how
eagerly
he obeyed...
He caught a whimper of longing threatening to escape and tore away from the memories. No, he needed to be out of there. He hadn't left the Tower just to get caught up in the affections of a few local witches. Again. For the third time.
Granted, he'd... learned a lot from that visit. He swallowed, patting his notebook, safely tucked in a pocket in his shorts under the robe. A lot about witches, witch sororities and their place in society--the way they supported (or sometimes harassed) the communities they set up shop near, the rules they tended to follow. And a lot about... well. Other things.
But things were different now. He straightened his stance, striding brashly through the snow. He wasn't some green wanderer anymore who'd never seen a pretty girl out in the wild. He'd faced the goblin maids, he'd faced the lamia, and he'd faced the sorority, and... well, he'd lost, but still!
He just had to find a way out of this snowstorm.
Gretel reached up and touched the silvery tattoo-like mark on his neck, wincing at its lingering sensitivity as he rallied a renewal for the abjuration magic currently keeping him from freezing to death horribly. It wasn't enough to keep him warm, but it did keep his blood flowing. But he couldn't keep his magic running continuously forever.
The Greatest, Darkest Forest wasn't such a bad place to be in a snowstorm, but it wasn't too wonderful, either. Even though he was protected from the worst of the wind, the forest's oppressive darkness made it hard to find the path when its was so covered and snow. Part of him already worried he'd lost it.
Nevertheless, he stumbled on, forcing his way through the snow--already up to his ankles, even in the boots Claire had gifted him. There had to be a village up ahead. As long as he stayed on the road.
And yet the cold seeped in through his thin robes, danced pins and needles across his aching feet, made his fingers numb and clumsy. His teeth chattered, and he closed his eyes and felt the chill of his own eyelids.
There had to be... had to be...
Gretel blinked, staring up ahead.
Off in the distance, seemingly just off the path, a pair of glimmering blue lights shone through the flurrying snow.
Gretel blinked again, unsure if he was seeing things. But he wasn't
that
cold, was he?
He pinched his wrist just to be sure.
"Ow."
The spell was still keeping him from getting too numb. It couldn't be delirium.
Gretel swallowed. He kept walking along the path, drawing nearer to the source of the glow. Was it... a house? With tinted windows, maybe? Maybe a Ranger outpost, though there was no record of one on the map Maye had given him. A Ranger outpost with hot cocoa and a warm fire. Oh, hot cocoa sounded
wonderful
right now. Rich and sweet with a touch of bitterness, just like Abril made it.
As he drew level with the lights on the path, he stopped, hesitating.
The shimmering lights looked normal enough, aside from being blue. They didn't bob or flicker or pulse, or pierce with unnatural brightness through the flurrying snow. They looked like lanterns.
Gretel bit his lip, then made a decision as he renewed the spell again. He'd take the chance. Anything to get out of this snow. If it wasn't a friendly face, he'd turn and hurry straight back.
It wasn't like the path offered any special protection here--if he was even still on the path. If fey wanted him, they could come and try to catch him wherever he went. Better to try to get indoors sooner.
Besides, what were the odds of running into temptresses on the open road four times in a row?
He stepped off the path and began trudging down the shallow hill, following the azure glow.
He kept his eyes on the lights the whole way. They were a pretty icy blue, like light shining from beneath a frozen lake. The longer he looked, the more sure he was that they
did
pulse--but only very slightly, a subtle, peaceful glimmer. It didn't worry him too much. They didn't seem dangerous.
They could be eyes, he thought dimly, stumbling a little. Eyes of some gigantic beast in the blizzard. He couldn't know.
The snow was up to his knees now as he went further downhill. Maybe he was entering a snowbank. He wondered if he should turn back.
He kept walking, pushing his way through the crunching snow. His robes did absolutely nothing to protect him from the cold, and his legs felt numb and useless, like he was walking on thick, clunky stilts. He rubbed his cheek, and winced at how ice-cold it was.
He only barely remembered in time to renew the spell this time. His head swam. He needed to find shelter. A cottage, a cave, a hollow log,
anything
.
And just as he was thinking that, he began to hear something that made him stop in his deep tracks and listen.
Music. Sweet, angelic music.
A smile spread across his face.
There were women singing just up ahead, joined by the delicate songs of bells and stringed instruments. It was a song of comfort and safety, of shelter and welcome. It was a song of warmth. He sped up his pace, and finally came to the source of the two blue lights.
They did belong to lanterns, as it turned out, each hanging from a tall crooked red-and-white striped post. They stood alone in the forest.
He stumbled forward in a daze, eyes fixed on the lanterns. It certainly seemed like it was the flames that were blue, not the glass He searched his numbed memories for the spell to identify enchantments.
But the music was coming from up ahead, and now he could see new light--the warm orange glow of a fire.
He could barely keep one foot in front of the other. The snow was up to his hips, now, and as he renewed his spell, his head spun from the combination of physical exertion and magical exhaustion. His arms were wrapped tight around his chest, and his teeth were chattering uncontrollably.
He could smell the smoke now, and woven into it were other sweet scents that made his mouth water. Chocolate. Peppermint. Caramel. Cinnamon. Maple syrup.
He was so fixated on moving as quickly as he could towards the warmth, he only noticed too late that the snow was about to drop away. He shoved his way out of the snowbank--
--and spilled right into a grassy meadow with not a trace of snow within, tumbling onto his side.
For a moment, Gretel was too stunned to react. He lay there, feeling a comforting warmth just ahead of him.
He stared straight ahead at a beautiful purple crocus in full bloom.
"Oh,
heavens
!" exclaimed a dainty, high-pitched voice.
His eyes slowly traveled up.
A bonfire blazed in the center of the clearing. Its warmth met Gretel's face like a hundred sunbeams, like a thousand soft sorority kisses, and he practically moaned with relief.
His eyes kept traveling, though, and he found himself meeting the gazes of four
gorgeous
fey women.
They were each quite short--about his height, with hair ranging from chestnut-brown to candy-red and rosy cedar-brown complexions. Their dark lips were plump and pouty, and they each had identical rosy-red noses and cheeks as if they were quite chilly. Pale speckles dappled their cheeks, arms, and chests.
Gretel stared. Each was dressed in a simple a-line dress, with a leafy green wreath nestled amid her shimmering brown locks. The outfits matched--fluffy white-trimmed pine-green dresses, backless and baring the shoulders, with long ruby-red stockings. The dresses were... very, very low-cut, and though they weren't large by fey standards, they filled those dresses out very, very nicely, and eagerly bared their long, shapely legs.
Above their heads rose delicate antlers. They were fauns.
And they were all staring at him. Their eyes were a brilliant green, shining through the falling snow. They looked startled, blinking thick, lustrous lashes.
They beamed.
"Oh, my loves!" one of them exclaimed. Her brown curls bounced as she bobbed from heel to toe. "We have a guest!"
"A visitor!" breathed another, eyes wide and sparkling. "Oh, Cupid, see him shiver! He hath traveled long in this cruel weather!"
"Um, h-hi," Gretel stammered, forcing his eyes off their chests to meet their inquisitive gazes. He struggled to his feet. "Sorry to... barge in like this. I was just..."
He was starting to register the rest of the clearing. Aside from the warm, cozy bonfire he was so grateful for, the strange fauns stood before a towering fir tree. It was beautifully decorated for the Solstice, with glimmering baubles--pink and blue, silver and gold, crimson and green--hanging from every branch. Some were glass, others glinted like metal. Red bows and ribbons dangled, too, blowing in the breeze, and at the top of the tree was a shimmering glass Solstice maiden. A light dusting of snow covered the tree. Gretel had never seen a Solstice tree so vast, nor one decorated so densely.
He realized he'd trailed off only when the fauns started giggling. He flushed. "Sorry. I'm, um, is it alright if I rest by your fire? My name is Gretel." He added the last part as an afterthought, already inching closer to the blaze.
He didn't know much about fauns. They were deergirls, beastfey. Beastfey were usually more approachable than other fey, weren't they?
The next thing he knew, he was surrounded.
"Oh, forsooth!" agreed the first one who'd spoken, Cupid, beaming at him. Her green eyes sparkled dangerously. "We should be overjoyed to have such a
handsome
guest. Is it not so, Vixyn?"
"Oh, yes," purred the second one who'd spoken. She was the tallest of them, just an inch above him, with striking little blue teardrop earrings that reminded him of icicles. "We are obligated to the cause of
hospitality
for weary travelers."
"Oh. Okay." He bit his lip. "Great."
"And we cannot
possibly
send thee out into the wind and snow, can we?" A third giggled and bounced up close to him. Her hair was cut in a neat little bouffant, decorated with glittering snowflake-style hairpins. "Not until thou art, hum, well warmed up!"
