WingsOfDesire-AriannaSkye

by Arianna Skye

  “The breeches are made from mushroom skin. When sewn, the material is rather sturdy.” So that’s what the strange pants Cerne wore were made of? They were extremely soft as well as form-fitting. They showed all the ridges and plains of his thighs and calves. Rhiannon wished the men on Earth wore such eye-appealing clothing. She giggled, wondering if they were edible too. It would make a most interesting evening for Cerne and her.

  “You know, we eat mushrooms on Earth, right?”

  “These are toadstools. A bit different from typical mushrooms your friends on Earth partake in.” Onora assisted in pulling the exquisitely soft fabric down over Rhiannon's curves. She smoothed the velvet while Rhiannon adjusted the belt at her waist.

  “You'll need your circlet.” Onora held out an emerald and ruby-encrusted gold headdress.

  “It's beautiful!” Rhiannon strained to touch it, afraid the delicate band encrusted with diamonds rubies and emeralds would snap on contact. “I can't wear that. It looks too expensive.”

  “But you must!” Onora placed the circlet on Rhiannon's head. “See?” Onora turned Rhiannon toward the mirror.

  Rhiannon's jaw dropped. She still couldn't get over how amazing she looked. The jewels sparkled and the golden crown glowed around her head. “Wow. I'm speechless.”

  “Why does your beauty surprise you?” Onora twirled one of Rhiannon's curls around her finger. “After all, two of the most handsome faeries in all of Fey are your parents.”

  “So when am I going to meet these two über-attractive faeries?” The sooner she met them, the sooner she'd do what she was brought here to do. Then she’d return to Earth and get her promotion.

  “The elder council will decide when.” Onora's mouth swept into a toothy grin. “But I'm sure it'll be soon. Councilwoman Windsong plans on starting your lessons tomorrow.” Oh God, not the lessons. From the dissertation Maeve gave her earlier, she would learn everything, including how to ignite the faerie passion—whatever the hell that meant. It was probably some bizarre and kinky sex ritual. From the brief conversation with Maeve, these faeries were extremely serious about their sexual relations. They had courtesans, sex instructors, rooms dedicated to sex and carnal pleasure, and a wide variety of massage oils, lotions, and toys she'd never dreamed of using. Yet the thought of using them with Cerne sent shivers of desire coursing through her.

  “Cool! I can't wait.” Rhiannon turned to the door. “The garden beckons, doesn't it?” Onora took Rhiannon's arm in hers. “Indeed it does.” She opened the double doors and led her out. They turned the corner and made their way down the long corridor toward the palace gardens.

  “How much further until we get there?” Rhiannon asked. Had she been on Earth, the pointy-toed slippers she wore would've hurt like hell, but not here in Fey. The proverbial feeling of floating on air overcame her. “I'm not uncomfortable or anything. I'm just eager to get to the

  garden.”

  “We're almost there, Your Highness.” Onora turned the corner, just as a bald, stocky faerie came from the north.

  Mr. Clean with wings? How cool!

  Onora jerked to a stop and bowed to the man. The older faerie looked down his nose to the younger faerie-in-waiting and huffed. Rhiannon would much rather suffer through a root canal than bow to some arrogant stranger.

  “You may rise.” He nodded, turned to Rhiannon, and gave her a scrutinizing gaze. “Is this our princess?”

  Onora, whose expression remained flustered, finally spoke. “Yes, Your Excellency.” She turned to Rhiannon. “May I present Her Royal Highness, Rhiannon Nightwind, Princess of the White Plains?”

  The man offered a quick bow. “As High Councilman of White Court, I am honored to welcome you back.”

  Wonderful. Someone else to remember? “Does the High Councilman have a name?”

  “Radan Evenspring, Your Highness. Please allow me your arm so we may chat.”

  “Mr. Evenspring, I must regretfully decline. I've already promised Onora a stroll in the garden. She’s going to show me White Palace’s vast expanse of magical herbs. I look forward to helping her gather them.” Was it her, or did she sound like she just read a line from a Jane Austen book, save for the bit about the magic herbs.

  “A princess should not be in the garden picking plants, Onora.” He gave the young maid a disapproving glare. “What would Queen Titania think if she knew you had her daughter doing menial labor?”

  She turned and caught a glimpse of Onora shuddering in her slippers. The dear girl's lip quivered. “I...I...I'm sorry, Your Excellency. I only wanted to—” Rhiannon stepped forward. “Actually, High Councilman, Onora said she needed to gather the herbs, and I insisted on coming along.” She gave him her own disapproving glare. “So if you want to chastise someone, you might as well blame me.” Noticing his silence, her mouth curved into a wry grin. “Is it against the rules for the princess to learn the customs of her people?”

  “No, Your Highness. I believe gardening is a task better left for lesser servants.”

  Now she was officially pissed off. “Is that so? Perhaps you'd like to join us as well?” Raising his chin high, Evenspring huffed and flitted his wings with the pomposity of a peacock. “I'll speak to the Queen about this.”

  She took Onora's arm in hers “By all means, be my guest. Good day, High Councilman.” With a curt nod, she dismissed him. Without looking back, she allowed Onora to lead her down the corridor.

  Onora let out a deep breath. “No one besides the Queen and King themselves has ever spoken to the High Councilman with such authority. Not even Councilwoman Windsong.”

  “That's too bad. It's about time, I suppose.” Her mouth fell to the floor as she took in the vast expanse of flowers and plants through the etched glass doorway.

  “Is that the garden?”

  The maid nodded. “Yes, Your Highness.”

  Rhiannon clucked her tongue. “Rhiannon.”

  A blush swept across the young faerie's face. “I'm sorry, I forgot—Rhiannon.”

  “No problem. I'll let you off with a warning—this time.” Taking in the aroma of tropical flowers mingling with the heady scent of herbs and spices, she smiled. She could definitely get used to this. She'd keep that to herself—for now.

  “What’s this called?” Rhiannon ran her finger across a beautiful white flower flecked with purple.

  “Eyebright. It's used by the wizards to aid in their psychic journeys.” Onora reached down and grabbed a few, placing them in her basket.

  Rhiannon giggled and followed suit, placing some in her own basket. “I could use some help with my psychic visions as well.”

  Onora giggled. “When the time has come, you'll not need herbs to aid in your magic. You’re born into it.”

  “If I was born into it, why does Titania need herbs? Can’t she use her magic?”

  “Losing you took a toll on our queen. She became weaker as the years went by.” Onora squeezed Rhiannon's hand. “But you've returned. Our future finally looks brighter.” Onora beamed, and Rhiannon couldn't help but smile. “This is all so weird to me. I don't know where to start or what to do.”

  “Councilwoman Windsong will help you.”

  “I'm sure she will.” Rhiannon gazed down to catch a flash of light flit in front of her. “What the heck is that?”

  Onora held out her hand and clucked her tongue a few times. The speck of light floated in the air and landed in Onora's palm. She held it out to Rhiannon. “It's a wishbug. Just call it, and once it lands in your hand, you can have any wish your heart desires. But only if it's sincere.” She blew a soft breath and sent the bug flying away.

  “What did you wish for?”

  “Would it be much of a wish if I told someone?” Onora bent down and gathered an armful of yet another plant.

  Rhiannon nodded. These faeries were more like humans than she realized. “I suppose you're right. What's that you just picked?”

  “Hus Mor. Humans call it mullein, I believe. It’s the herb that helped Lor
d Silverwing find you. It's known for its ability to help locate those kidnapped by the dark sidhe. ”

  “Interesting.” Craning her neck, Rhiannon spotted a familiar plant. The bright purple flowers danced along the path. “Verbena!”

  “Crubh-an-leoghain,” Onora replied in the faerie language. “Go get some. It aids with visions and prophesy. Gods know we can always use that sort of help.” Rhiannon nodded eagerly. She'd always had a thing for verbena. Even her favorite Bath and Body Works scent had some in it. “Cool!”

  She rushed over to the plant and gathered as much as she could in her arms. “Is this enough?”

  A brighter flash of light rent the garden, sending Rhiannon flying back. All her verbena spilled to the ground.

  “Plenty,” Maeve said, stepping from the light. She glanced down at Rhiannon's bounty scattered at her feet “Here, let me help you, Your Highness.” She knelt down and gathered up some of the flowers.

  “You need to warn someone before doing that, Councilwoman.” Rhiannon picked up the rest of the spilled plants. “And please call me Rhiannon. I order it.” She brushed a curl from her face. “All this formality drives me nuts.”

  “I like you already, Rhiannon.” Maeve smiled. “Cerne has his work set out for him.

  Speaking of which, how did your private meeting go?”

  Rhiannon’s blush must've spoken volumes. Maeve burst into a chuckle. “Well, I assume?” Rhiannon shook her head. “Nope. Not at all.” For some unknown reason, she relayed the events of Cerne's intimate show to Maeve, as if she was a friend she'd known forever. “We argued some more. I went back to my chambers, where Onora found me. Now here I am, gathering herbs.”

  Maeve nodded. “I also hear you’ve met High Councilman Evenspring?”

  “Yes.” Rhiannon snorted. “The men in this kingdom need to learn some manners.”

  “I apologize for High Councilman Evenspring. I believe he expected you to be more compliant.”

  Compliant? Get real. These faeries weren't that stupid. “Did he expect me to just magically accept this role you've sprung on me?”

  Maeve shrugged. “The High Councilman has been one of your most vocal supporters. When he learned Cerne had discovered your whereabouts, he insisted on your return—despite Cerne's objections.”

  Rhiannon's face fell. “Cerne only did this because he was following orders?” Then again, she shouldn’t be surprised. He was loyal to his kingdom.

  “Oh, I didn't mean it that way. He was concerned about your human upbringing, is all. He was worried that you were tainted. But those worries are now in the past.” Maeve reached down and picked a daisy, then brushed away a lock of Rhiannon's hair and placed the flower behind her ear.

  “I didn't like the way High Councilman Evenspring treated Onora.” Rhiannon turned to Onora who was busy picking berries from a tree. She plopped a succulent berry into her mouth and giggled. “From what you've told me, I thought the women here were respected. But now I realize it's no different here as it is on Earth.” Maeve sucked in a deep breath. “High Councilman Evenspring was expecting the role of faerie-in-waiting to go to his daughter, Sorcha. When the Queen bestowed the honor on a chambermaid, he was rather miffed.”

  “What happened to Sorcha?”

  Maeve shrugged. “She left the castle to return home. Some say she'd chosen another for her life-mate. Despite his daughter’s wishes, High Councilman Evenspring lobbied day and night to change Queen Titania's mind, to no avail. Their relations became rather strained.”

  “How horrible. But he can't possibly blame Onora?” Maeve nodded. “I think his pride was injured the most. He saw it like a slap to the face.” Maeve shook her head. “And for his daughter to choose beneath her has been another wound to his pride.”

  “Onora deserves more. She's extremely intelligent. I'm sure that's why Queen Titania chose her.”

  “Perhaps, but High Councilman Evenspring sees only a lowly servant.” Perhaps she should just see this through, to change these rules. If people could strive for equality on Earth, perhaps she could get the faerie folk to follow suit. “That's too bad. I see so much more.”

  “You'll make an excellent queen, Rhiannon. With Cerne at your side, we cannot go wrong.

  The Elders chose well for you.”

  Rhiannon smiled. Cerne was a magnificent man, that much was certain. But he seemed so distant sometimes. However, she knew he was attracted to her and they had some sizzling encounters. Could it develop into more? “I'm not certain Cerne truly wants me. And I took a vow to wait for the right man.”

  Maeve broke out into a long chuckle. “Trust me, Rhiannon. He wants you, more than he or you both realize. And if he doesn't now, he will by the time your lessons are complete.”

  “I'm getting excited just thinking about it.”

  A loud gasp filled the air. Maeve and Rhiannon turned to spot Onora slumped to the ground gasping for breath.

  “Help,” Onora breathed out, clutching her throat. Her basket of berries lay spilled on the ground next to her thrashing feet.

  “Oh, my God!” Rhiannon flew toward Onora and took her in her arms. “What do we do?” Maeve rushed over, pushing Rhiannon away. She brushed her palm against Onora's forehead, closed her eyes, and murmured an incantation. An amber glow emitted from her fingers while she massaged Onora's temples. “Go fetch me some nettle. It's over there.” She motioned toward a tall, bright green bush standing solitary in the corner. “Hurry! We haven't much time.”

  Rhiannon nodded and bounded to her feet. “How much do I get?” she asked, her heart thudding in her chest. She grabbed at the greenery, stuffing it into her arms.

  “That should be enough,” Maeve said, attempting to soothe the young maid.

  Rhiannon plowed back through the plant life, mindless of the sacred herbs she trampled on.

  Onora needed her.

  “What's happening?” She thrust her basket toward Maeve.

  Maeve grabbed a handful of the foliage and rubbed them against Onora's cheek and forehead. “I've no idea.” She reached down and picked up a half-eaten berry from Onora's trembling fingers. Bringing the fruit to her nose, she flinched. “Nightshade. The berries were disguised to look like elderberries. This is Korrigan’s work.”

  “What makes you so sure it was Korrigan? Didn't you just mention High Councilman Evenspring had a grudge against her?”

  “High Councilman Evenspring wouldn’t lower himself to murder. He's an honorable man.” Maeve took a leaf and placed it in Onora's mouth. “The elderberries were to be made into wine which would've been served to you tonight, and this magic is too strong for even Evenspring to perform.”

  Rhiannon gasped. Someone had meant to kill her? Poor Onora, to have gotten in the crossfire. “Is she going to be okay?”

  Maeve nodded. “Yes, she only ate one or two. Thank the Gods we were here. Otherwise she wouldn’t be so lucky.”

  Onora stirred, spitting out the leaves. “What...where am I?” She stared at them with glassy eyes. “Councilwoman Windsong? When did you arrive?”

  “Nightshade can cause temporary loss of memory,” Maeve whispered to Rhiannon. She knelt down to Onora. “You ate some bad berries. Do you remember anything at all?” Onora shook her head. “Can we go back to the palace?” she asked in a weak voice.

  “I would like to return as well.“ Rhiannon gritted her teeth. Whoever this Korrigan was, she was bad news. If she could trick other faeries into mistaking poison berries for good ones, she was an incredibly powerful creature. Truth be told, she wanted to go home—to Phoenix. At least she'd be safe, right?

  She turned to gaze at Onora. The poor girl had almost died because of her. She owed Onora her life. “I'm tired and I need to rest up for my lessons.”

  ~*~*~

  Rhiannon and Maeve sat next to Onora's bed, watching over her. Rhiannon insisted she stay, despite Onora’s insisting she was fine.

  “You needn't fuss over me, Your Highness,” Onora said. Her pupils were wide, a thin ci
rcle of green surrounding them.

  “Why are her pupils so dilated?” Rhiannon whispered to Maeve.

  “It’s the nightshade.” Maeve turned to Onora. “You don't look well, Onora, The nightshade is still in your blood.”

  Onora rubbed her eyes. “I should know better. The berries were too ripe for the season. I put everyone in danger.” She gazed at Rhiannon with pleading eyes. “Please forgive me.”

  “Don't be sorry, Onora. It wasn't your fault. Someone wanted me dead, and you were just an innocent bystander.” Rhiannon reached down and patted Onora's hand.

  Maeve nodded. “To be honest, you saved the princess's life. And if I’d been in your shoes, I would've picked them too. It was an extremely powerful enchantment.” She flashed a comforting smile.

  “I would've picked them too. Those elderberries looked delicious.” Mouthwatering, Rhiannon glanced across the room to another basket which went through a thorough investigation by the palace wizard and several elders. The succulent berries beckoned her to partake in their delicious splendor.

  Maeve chuckled. “I haven’t any doubt now. You’re a faerie.”

  “Why's that?” Rhiannon’s eyebrow arched with bemused curiosity.

  “Elderberries are our weakness. We can't get enough of them.”

  “Maybe we can start a twelve step program for berry addiction.” Rhiannon giggled, imagining herself with wings standing up amongst a group of junkie faeries, saying, “Hello, I'm a berryholic.”

  “We are not addicted, my dear Rhiannon. Our willpower is much higher than humans. We simply enjoy the taste.” Maeve patted Rhiannon's back. “The wine is delicious, too. The human libations you've become accustomed to will pale in comparison.”

  “Cerne did liken my Blackberry Merlot to ogre swill, whatever that means.” Maeve winced. “Poor girl. You truly don't know what you've been missing.”