“Of course not. That is not what I mean.” King Nicholas sighed, stroking his beard. He looked away from his son’s challenge and stroked his long white beard. “And for your information, I taught you that look. It won’t work on me.”
Rowan simply continued to stare.
“My brother is making noise again, trying to encroach on the lands to the west. Will your fairy wife be good in battle?”
“There is frost as well as fire in her,” Rowan said. “If I have to teach her to wield a sword, so be it.”
“And are you already in love with this fairy? What happens if she doesn’t fall in love with you?”
Rowan shook his head. “Father, I can’t avoid falling in love forever. An Elf without love will wither and die like a tomato on a vine. She is my mate.” His hand went to his heart. “I feel it here,” he said. “We are linked.”
“An Elf without love may wither and die,” Nicholas agreed. “But the wrong love will melt away your soul like a finger drift of snow after a late spring rain shower.” Nicholas patted his son on the shoulder. “I can’t stop you, of course, and I’ll support you in your decisions.” His dark eyes grew misty with distant memories. “Just be careful with your heart, my son. Your fairy is not the only one entwined in it.”
Rowan appeared at her classroom door promptly at four o’clock.
“Guardian,” he said, poking his head through the door.
“Yes, my lord?” Crystal stared at the young man courting her niece with more than a little skepticism. Elves rarely pursued with the single minded determination of a brownie after a fresh supply of mushrooms, but Rowan was proving to be … different from other elves of her acquaintance.
“The aurora borealis will come in tonight after the storm. May Snow accompany me to Skylight Cabin? I thought she would enjoy herself.”
Crystal smiled, remembering her first visit to see the borealis. Remembering what it was like to be young and in love. She glanced at her niece. “Oh you should go, Snow. It’s so beautiful it will take your breath away.”
Snow smiled up at Rowan. “Of course. Let me change into something more suitable.”
“And grab your cloak. The white fur one I gave you,” he clarified. “You look so beautiful in it and it will be cold where we’re going.”
Snow turned to him, stunned. “Cold? We’re at the North Pole. How can it be any colder?”
He shrugged with a grin that never failed to charm her. “It will be dark and windy and we will be without the protection or light or Keep. Trust me, even you will feel the cold.”
She turned to her aunt. “Will you be here when I get back?”
“You’re going away?” Rowan asked
Crystal nodded. “Only for a little while, to visit my sister. I want Snow to feel the power of her Guardianship in early winter so I thought a visit to see my sister would be a nice before the real work begins with the Solstice.”
“I will take care of Ice Keep while you’re away,” she said, lifting her fingers in the solemn promise of their people before leaving to change into outside clothing.
“Be careful,” Rowan said. “Father says Krampus is stirring up trouble and seeking mercenaries. We are almost to Krampusnacht and will need you if he chooses to attack.”
Snow bounded back into the class room, bundled up in her Silver Falls dress and wrapped in the fur cloak Rowan had given her on her first full day as an apprentice. “What is Krampusnacht?”
Her aunt waved her hand. “It means Night of Krampus. Every year on December sixth, there is a Feast of Sinterklaas celebration. Everyone travels to Glacier Keep and we feast and dance and tell jokes far into the night. The Night of Krampus is the eve of their birthday. But I’m sure that even Krampus isn’t power hungry enough to attack on the night before his birthday.”
Rowan was not moved by Crystal’s logic. “It’s still not a chance I want to take.”
“Of course not,” Crystal said. “And I will be back before the Feast of Sinterklaas celebrations.” She turned to her niece and changed the subject. “You don’t want to wear the blue wool?” her aunt asked, draping a scarf around Snow’s shoulders.
“This is so wonderfully warm,” Snow said, her hands brushing at the shimmering fabric of her dress. “It feels as light as air and yet keeps me warmer than the heaviest wool.”
Rowan fingered one of the sleeves and it responded with a sibilant hiss of pleasure. “Serena of the Silver Falls wove this for you,” he said. “She’s the most skilled weaver of her clan. Possibly of all the weaver clans. The fabric will respond to your wants and needs,” he said. “It will keep you warm in the darkest part of winter and yet keep you comfortable when you visit your parents in their glen.”
Snow paused, not sure how she felt about raiment from such a skilled weaver. What other magical properties did the cloth possess?
As they walked into the bailey, she was surprised to see a forest green sleigh waiting for them. Two reindeer stood in their harnesses, awaiting the upcoming adventure.
“Santa’s sleigh and reindeer?”
“Technically, I suppose,” he said with a laugh. He helped her into her seat and spread a fur over her legs. “But this isn’t part of the A team.”
“Of course,” she said. “After all, what would Santa do without Rudolph?”
Rowan laughed. “You’ve listened to too many human stories.”
“My friend Toffee likes to tell tall tales,” she said, snuggling next to him.
“I’d like to meet your friend one day. Will he join you at Ice Keep?”
“He will visit next week,” she said. “I invited him for the Feast of Sinterklaas celebration. Brownies don’t much like the cold and they prefer to be in the forest where they can forage for mushrooms.” She waved her hand to the barren landscape. “Not much for a brownie to do here in the North Pole.”
“But the Feast of Sinterklaas will bring out the brownie in us all,” Rowan teased. “Perhaps Toffee would like to forage at the forest in Glacier Keep,” he suggested.
“He would probably love that. They do like to eat,” she agreed.
“I will tell the cook to prepare as many mushroom dishes as possible for Toffee.” They rode in silence for a while, enjoying the rush of the air, the gentle fall of snow and the burgeoning warmth of blossoming love.
“Tell me what you’re learning,” Rowan invited as the reindeer chased across the frozen land. His hand reached for hers and linked their fingers. The hushed silence of the snow wisped past them. A wisp of moon glow hair slipped from her snug woolen cap and caught on her eyelashes. His long, graceful fingers tucked the glossy lock behind her ear and tilted her chin up to receive a gentle kiss.
“I feel like I’m ready to be a snow forecaster,” she complained, wrinkling her nose. “Mostly about the importance of snow to the water table,” she replied. “How humans rely on the glaciers and snow caps to water their crops and animals. Did you know that types of wind affect the snow differently? Dry winds, moist winds, winds that pick up debris from the rest of the world and deliver it here to the North Pole.” She sighed, snuggling closer. It did seem colder here in the open. “Aunt Crystal is currently quizzing me on the different types of snow.”
“There are different kinds of snow?” Rowan asked.
She waved her mittened hand, indicating the blanketed expanse of land before her. “Aunt Crystal says this windswept snow is called zastruga.” She closed her eyes as though reciting something from memory. “It’s a Russian word meaning deep grooves. Wind heavy with ice particles hits the snow-covered plains and causes all the deep ridges we see. With no human grime or nature’s mud, snow is simply this large expanse of hushed whispers.”
Rowan nodded. “I’ve always loved how snow equalizes us all. Fae or human, king or commoner, when it snows our lives are all reduced to a white covering.”
Snow reached up and brushed an impulsive kiss across Rowan’s lips. “What was that for,” he asked, his midnight dark eyes lit with lov
e and humor.
She brushed her fingers across the soft fullness of his lips. “Because I wanted to,” she replied with a teasing lilt. “So tell me what your clan did to get banished to the North Pole?”
Rowan slanted her a look. “Who said we were banished?”
Snow’s mouth dropped. “Oh. Well.” She didn’t want to toss Toffee under the proverbial sleigh. “I heard that generations ago, the Evergreen Clan was banished to the North Pole. I’m sorry – was that wrong?”
“Not wrong, but embellished a bit, I think. My ancestors were toy makers for generations. We needed space for our workshop. A place where humans wouldn’t interfere. And elves are impervious to the deep cold. This became a natural choice. It provided us with privacy and space.”
Snow frowned and her cheeks flushed with embarrassment. Had Toffee misled her on purpose? Or was it some brownie tale? Or did he actually believe that the elves of Evergreen had been banished? “I suppose next you’ll tell me you don’t gnash your teeth at defenseless woodland creatures.”
Rowan looked at her in surprise before his hearty belly laugh echoed off the waves of snow. “No, our type generally leaves the defenseless woodland creatures alone,” he said smiling. He thought a moment. “Brownie tall tales again?”
She shrugged. “They do seem to never let truth get in the way of a good yarn.”
“Tell me,” Rowan invited, tactfully changing the subject. “What does a season guardian do?”
She nibbled her bottom lip as her brow creased in thought. “We don’t create the weather. I know some creatures think that, but we don’t. We supply the magic that encourages the beauty of our respective season. We help with icicles and wind and make sure everything sleeps before its rebirth in spring.” She smiled up at Rowan. “Would you like to see what I can do?”
“Of course.” He slowed the reindeer down as they approached the small cabin and barn.
She picked up a handful of soft white powder and compacted it into a small ball of snow. She paused a moment, gathering magic into her core and took a deep breath. Her energy traveled through her, increased, expanded and finally expended into her hands. The ball of snow coalesced and hardened. Crystalized. Rowan watched as her magic turned an unsuspecting snowball into a small quartz-like globe, snow falling furiously within its crystal enclosure. Rowan impulsively reached out, added his own dose of magic and the snow globe filled with the sparkle and endurance of elfish love.
Her pale blue-grey eyes opened. “You helped!” she accused with a laugh.
He brushed a kiss across her soft lips. “Will it thaw?” he asked, indicating the small globe.
“They used to,” she said, slowly, examining the product of their combined magic. “But now, I think, it won’t.”
“Let me carve it a stand so it will forever be a testament of the love between elf and fairy,” he said. “Fae and frost.”
She cradled the crystal ball as he helped her out of the sleigh.
“Can you start a fire,” he asked. “There should be one already laid out in the cabin. I’ll take the harnesses off the reindeer and feed them.”
Snow nodded. “Is that picnic basket for us or them?”
Rowan handed it to her. “This one is for us. He patted a small crate hidden beneath extra blankets. “This has the corn feed for the animals.”
After assuring the animals were brushed, fed, and freshly blanketed in the shelter, he held his hands over a small stockpile of rocks. He concentrated and felt the heat build-up in his palms. When it became too hot to hold, he pushed it forward with absolute focus. The soapstone held and retained the heat before slowly sending it out in warming waves to heat the animal enclosure without risk.
He filled a bucket with snow and brought it into the cabin for melting. He found the fireplace lit and running off the chill of the cabin. “Let me melt snow for the reindeer,” he said hanging the bucket over the fire, “and then we’ll see what Cook packed us for dinner.”
Snow nodded, suddenly shy in the face of just how alone the two of them were in the isolated cabin. He nodded to a small door in the corner. “You can freshen up in the lavatory if you have the need,” he said.
“You have indoor plumbing in such a remote cabin?” Snow said, hanging her cloak up on a peg and stretching her wings. They beat with the desire to fly and run free.
“Christmas magic,” Rowan said, his voice trailing off as his haunted dark eyes watched her wings beat and stretch until she slightly lifted from the stone floor. “When we get home, I want to dance with you on the ice while your wings are free,” he said, approaching her. “I want to spin you and send you flying.”
She licked her lips, tension heating between them. “I would like that. Very much.”
He looked to her for permission before gently touching a finger to one shimmering wing. She shivered in response. “Cold?” he asked.
She shook her head. “I don’t know. It feels. Good. Soft. Like I can feel you touching me everywhere.”
He kissed her, pulling her against him and wrapping his arms around her small body. He found the delicate curve of her neck and pressed small licks and bites along the tendons there. At his gentle touch, a shock of pleasure knifed through him, leaving him almost bereft without the taste her.
“You taste like I imagine the sun would taste,” she said, tracing his lower lip lovingly. “Heat and power all wrapped up like a gift.” They watched each other with cautious eyes, each knowing the sensual tension between them, their isolation, and their desire would lead to one place: the oversized bed against the giant picture window.
He swallowed and retreated. “Let me get the water to the animals,” he said, his voice hoarse.
She nodded, silently. Watching him.
He stood in the doorway knocking the snow off his boots. He watched her as she set out the food on the table. So beautiful. So perfect. She would make the perfect queen, he thought, before banishing the idea. He was too low in the ranks and loved his father and brothers too much to ever wish for anything else.
Her eyes darted up to him and she blushed. “Do you have hunger?” she asked, her pale hands nervously presenting the food she had laid out.
“Not for food,” he said, approaching her. He took her to the side of the bed and watched her with a haunted look on his face. “For Elves,” he said, “sex and marriage are one and the same. A couple is not considered married until they achieve a bodily union.” She watched him, traced the lines of his beloved face with a finger. “Do you understand?” he said. “Fairies can be more fickle with their partners but elves are not. We can only love once. If we join our bodies here, you are my bride. My princess.”
She frowned, momentarily. “I am a Guardian. Can I be a princess and a Guardian?”
Rowan dipped his head to taste the lushness of her mouth. “We will make it so,” he said.
“Then yes,” she said, “I accept.” Already her magical dress was reading her mind and the laces were coming undone before Rowan had a chance to touch them. Tiny rainbows of color reflected off the walls of the cabin like stars against the midnight sky.
Her voice rasped against his senses, flaming his desire hotter than the wood that popped and crackled in the stone fireplace. Struggling out of his own tunic and britches, he watched with baited breath as she seemed to simply shrug and become nude.
“Your skin is as soft as a petal,” he murmured, joining her on the soft feather bed. “Your body so beautiful. Pliant. Willing.” She moaned slightly in response, her eyes dilating and nipples growing tight beneath his hands. Lips. Crooning words.
She trembled beneath him as pleasure and adrenaline pushed through her system. “Such pretty nipples,” he whispered, brushing his cheeks against them. The fine hair of his cheeks grazed them and caused her to arch in pleasure. “Rowan,” she said, weakly.
“Such a pale silvery pink,” he said, licking one and then the other. He held the small, firm breast in his hand, warming her with his touch. “You have such
dangerous magic,” he said.
“Do I?”
“The power to enrapture a prince and make him yours for eternity.”
She whimpered at his words and reached for him. “You make me ache,” she said.
“Good,” Rowan said, kissing her once more. “It would be a shame if I were the only one aching here.”
“I want to taste you,” he said, softly kissing his way down her flat little belly. He nuzzled it with his nose. “This is where I want our children growing.” Snow arched against him and he smiled. “And this,” he said, parting the silver curls that shielded her mound. “This is where I will plant the seeds.”
Instinct pushed him forward as he gave small gentle kisses until her knees fell open in invitation. He kissed along the inside of her thighs, rewarding her sweet submission. “Open yourself for me,” he said.
Small pale fingers parted the sweet outer lips, leaving her tender sweet flesh exposed. The scent of sweetly female nectar drifted to him. Enticed him to slowly swipe his tongue over her sweet little bud. “I think I could stay between your legs for eternity,” he said in between long loving strokes of his tongue.
“I don’t think I will complain much,” Snow panted, her hands twining in his hair and pulling him against her.
Her hands reached down to gently stroke him. “You’re most handsomely put together,” she said, her voice growing husky and sultry.
“My curious fairy,” he said, teeth clenched in pleasure. “Perhaps you’d like your own turn to explore?”
“Oh, very much so,” she said, pushing him back against the sheets. She straddled his slim hips and touched him at will and with gently wild abandon. “You taste like heaven,” she said on a soft puff of breath. Her lips came so achingly close to his cock that Rowan arched toward her in instinctive response.
“Come, my fairy princess,” he said, stroking her hair away from her face. “Taste me before I explode.”
“Here?” she asked, her eyes full of coy mischief.
“Aye,” he said. “There.”
Fae and Frost: A Christmas Romance (Harper's Mill Book 2) Page 3