by Lucy Fear
“We’re going to fly in,” he said. “Or I'm going to fly, and you're going to ride me.”
“You'll be a dragon?” she asked. Maeve had heard about the famous dragon forms of the Lords of the Court of the Heavens. Her interest at knowing she would get to witness it in person helped to drive away her fear. He nodded. “Could I turn into a dragon, or is it a gift that passes through your bloodline?”
“Anyone could turn into a dragon,” he said. “It's more of a tradition that only we do. It does take a lot of power. I don't think you'd be incapable of it, but I also didn't think you'd be eager to undergo anymore transformation magic. Plus, my father said we shouldn't try spells like that until the curse is dealt with. In case of bad interactions.”
She shivered. “You're right. I'm not sure I'd ever want to turn into another creature on purpose. I just wondered if it was possible. Seeing you in your dragon form is one thing to look forward to.”
“You've gone through a lot in the past couple of months,” he said, kissing her forehead. “It's only natural that you'd have concerns about another dangerous journey. I'll do whatever I can to keep you safe, and to put your mind at ease.”
“You're already doing so much for me,” she protested, though there was not much vigor in it. “Having you here is soothing enough.”
“I consider it a privilege to do whatever I can for you, Maeve, but I am glad you find my presence comforting.” He smiled down at her, and she found herself smiling back. “You know, we don't always have to go to my room, if you'd rather stay here.”
She thought about it, and shrugged. “It's not like I have any real attachment to this room, since I’ve only had it for a week. Besides, your room smells like you.”
He laughed. “I feel like most people would consider that a downside. Rhosyn has been telling me I smell bad for years.”
“I don't think so,” Maeve said, leaning into his chest, “I think you smell like soap and rain.”
“Really?” he said, his hands sliding down to her hips. “I've always thought you smelled like a delicious red wine, rich and sweet.” His voice took on a low tone that was becoming familiar, and anticipation fluttered in her belly. She stood on her toes to kiss him, long and slow, before pulling away. The expression on his face was slightly dazed.
She grinned, picked up her clothes, and walked out of the room. Idris followed after her with an expression of anticipation.
CHAPTER NINE
Days passed. Fenella taught Maeve the basics of magical healing and combat, just as Rowan had promised, though she suggested that if they actually had to fight, Maeve would be better off hiding behind Idris. That rankled, but she knew it was only for now. It took years to become truly proficient at magical combat, especially against such powerful opponents, and Maeve was at a disadvantage because her previous training in magic had been so haphazard. Idris and his family had been perplexed by this. In such a cutthroat court, how had she survived so long without being taught to defend herself?
She had no answers for them. Perhaps it had only been luck. Idris believed her brother had been employing magical defenses on her behalf. Maeve wasn’t ready to give him that much credit. At one time in her life, Conall had been her hero as well as her only link to the outside world. His betrayal had shaken her deeply. Even understanding intellectually what he must have been through over the years, her broken heart was not ready to forgive.
While she was training, Idris and his parents were making preparations for their trip, gathering intelligence and supplies, preparing the gifts that Lord Aidan hoped would impress the Cailleach. A few days before they were to leave, Idris and Fenella brought Maeve to Serenalis to be fitted for special clothes, which turned out to be simple leather armor that was enchanted all over with spells of protection. “We used to only make these kinds of things for mortals,” Idris said, as the shopkeeper walked around her, adjusting straps and buckles. “But armor went out of fashion in the human world a while ago, and there are plenty of mortal wizards available for enchanting clothes.”
“Most of the nobles, begging your pardon, Prince Idris, were too short-sighted to see that our people have plenty of use for this sort of thing. I can protect those who can’t protect themselves, like children, the injured, those without strong magical gifts or without training, like your young lady here,” the shopkeeper said in a gruff voice. He had kindly brown eyes and a back covered in short quills.
Idris nodded in agreement. “Also, these enchantments are a perfect defense against surprise attacks, allowing you to conserve personal magic for a counterattack or a quick getaway.”
“I’ve never seen anything like it,” Maeve said admiringly. “I can tell you put a lot of pride in your work, so thank you for making it for me.”
The older fae smiled up at her, his eyes crinkling. “All of us in the town are grateful for Prince Idris and everything he does. The Lord and Lady are the ones who recognized our value as more than servants or slaves, but it’s the prince who does the hard and often thankless work of making sure we have what we need to stand on our two feet. I’ve been glad to make armor for all the members of the royal family, but knowing that the prince trusts me to protect the woman he loves is a special honor. Besides, now I get to hope that my sons and daughters will be making things for little ones in the not too distant future,” he said, his eyes sparkling.
Maeve bit her lip, both embarrassed by the comment and amused by Idris’s red face and sputtering. He didn’t really recover himself until they left the shop. They had never talked about children. In any normal relationship, it would be much too early for that conversation, but of course, they were doing everything out of order. And Idris’s position as the most likely heir to the throne was something to consider. If Maeve was being honest with herself, she could admit that the idea of his children delighted her, but it also frightened her. Surely, she was too young for such a thing. They had years and years ahead of them. Either way, she thought the conversation would have to wait until after they returned from the Underworld.
But finally, it was the night before they planned to leave. They were in Idris’s room, packing bags with their clothes and other personal gear. Despite all their preparations, Maeve’s hands were shaking as she rolled up a tunic and slipped it into her satchel. Fenella had procured her several sets of more practical clothes for the journey, and though Maeve was used to wearing dresses, she had discovered a new appreciation for the freedom and ease of movement offered by the adoption of pants. As she picked up a pair and started mechanically fashioning it into a space-saving roll, she felt a hand on her back.
Idris smiled at her, but she could tell he was nearly as nervous as she felt. He hadn’t ever been to the Underworld either. No one had. “I have one more thing for you,” he said, taking her hand and sliding a wide silver bracelet onto her wrist.
Maeve touched the large, iridescent stone set in the center with admiration. Surrounding the stone was delicate filigree depicting a dragon and a wolf, not fighting but entwined. “Idris, it’s beautiful,” she said, reaching up to wrap her arms around his neck.
“It’s also functional. If you press the stone and hold it for a little while, it will teleport you back here. Just in case we get into some real trouble.”
Maeve pursed her lips in annoyance. “Do you honestly think I would leave you in danger to save myself?”
He grimaced. “I wish you would,” he said, sighing. “But the teleport should be able to handle one other person if you’re touching them. I would prefer that we not have to use it at all, but it’s good to have a plan for emergencies.”
“Sometimes, you’ve got to let me take care of you,” she countered, pressing a kiss to his jaw. “You aren’t invincible.”
“I know. I’m working on it.” His arm curved around her waist, pulling her closer. “Are you nearly done packing? We ought to go to bed soon if we want to get an early start tomorrow.”
Maeve turned and looked at the pile of her belongings
, cataloging in her mind what remained to be done, and nodded. “I think the rest can wait until morning.”
“Good,” he said, kissing the back of her neck. His arms tightened around her, and she felt the gentle scrape of his teeth. She shivered and turned in his arms.
“I thought you wanted to rest,” she said with a lopsided smile as he pulled her backwards toward the bed.
“I think we both could use a little distraction,” he replied, his smile not at all contrite. “I don’t know about you, but I’m much too anxious to sleep right now.” He was not wrong. She pushed his chest so that he fell backwards onto the bed, and sat straddling his waist. His hands slid up her sides, and he hummed appreciatively.
“Is this the kind of distraction you had in mind?” she asked, bracing her palms on his chest. “Or this?” She bent and kissed the side of his neck, right over the still pink scar that marked where he had given her his blood. He shivered.
“It’s a start,” he said, his fingers finding the hem of her long tunic and slipping underneath to glide along her bare skin. Maeve started unbuttoning his shirt, taking her time about it, kissing and running her fingers over his chest and stomach. But when she had undone the last button, she kept going. The laces of his pants weren't that complicated, but the audible hitch in his breath when her fingers brushed over them made her work more slowly than she had to. When his manhood finally sprang free, she ran her fingers over the delicate skin and thrilled in his gasps, the way his muscles tightened with every caress.
His response made her bolder. In the week since they had become lovers, Idris had several times used his mouth to pleasure her, but she had yet to do the same. She bent down with a smile on her face, and he shivered from the feeling of her warm breath on his arousal. She flicked her tongue over him, swirling it over the head of his member, and he groaned, whispering her name like a benediction. Then, she closed her mouth over him. His moan was guttural, and he buried his hands knuckle deep in her hair as she lavished attention on him with her lips and tongue. There was something intoxicating about the sight of him, his head thrown back and his cheeks flushed, at her mercy, and delightedly so, a situation she was unfamiliar with. Her core throbbed with growing desire.
“Maeve, please,” he begged, his voice low and broken. She lifted her head, grinning at him, and he growled before lunging upward to kiss her with an intensity that stole her breath. If she’d thought the sight of him helpless beneath her was tantalizing, this was even better. He was wild with his need of her, their clothes disappearing with a touch, and he pushed her onto the bed stomach first. She was not afraid of him; she was electrified by this crack in his control, and when he plunged into her, she moaned, pressing her hips back toward him. He held her tightly, one hand splayed against her ribs as they moved together, and the other sneaking between her thighs.
The barest touch of his fingers was nearly enough to send her over the edge right away, and that combined with the sweet, rhythmic pressure of his thrusts deep inside her was almost overwhelming. Release came quickly for both of them, building to a sharp peak of bliss that burned through them like a flash fire and then faded away to languorous exhaustion.
“I’m sorry, Maeve,” he whispered against the back of her neck, “if I was too rough with you.”
She turned to him, shaking her head with an exasperated smile. “I'm not made of glass, Idris,” she said, stroking his cheek. “Besides, I think I like it when you get a little wild.”
“Oh,” he said in a tone that was slightly surprised but not, she thought, displeased. He pulled her closer, his lips brushing the back of her ear. “I guess I'll keep that in mind.”
*****************************
The sky was still gray when Idris woke her with a kiss on the forehead. She yawned, stretching, and realized that he was already dressed. “How long have you been up?” she mumbled, rubbing bleary eyes.
“About an hour,” he said with a rueful expression. “Once I was awake, I couldn’t make myself go back to sleep. I didn’t want to wake you with my fidgeting.” Maeve could understand that. Now that she was conscious, the full weight of what they were setting out to do crashed over her once again. She hardly tasted her breakfast, and it seemed like only seconds had passed before they were headed out to the courtyard. Their luggage was all piled to one side, leaving a large space in the center for Idris to make his transformation. He kissed her softly on the lips, the last time he would be able to until they reached the Underworld, and then Maeve backed away, going to stand by the rest of the family who were waiting to wish them farewell.
She wasn't entirely sure what to expect from the transformation, so she watched with wide eyes as Idris was wreathed in a soft, silver glow. It shone brighter and brighter until she nearly had to look away, and then a pair of enormous, leathery, silver wings unfurled with a snap and rush of air. The light faded to reveal a sinuous dragon with scales like polished pearl, his head crowned with two graceful, golden horns. Only the eyes remained Idris’s, clear blue as a mountain stream.
“Hmm,” Lord Aidan said, sounding almost disapproving. His wife chuckled, laying a hand on his arm.
“Not everyone wants to make as much of a statement as you, dear. Besides, he doesn't even have feathers.” Maeve wasn't sure what they were talking about, but Fenella laughed knowingly. Maeve turned her attention back to the pale dragon, the sunlight fracturing into rainbows in his opalescent scales.
You can come closer now, if you like, Idris said, his voice echoing in her mind as he furled his wings so they were tucked tightly against his back. She didn't hesitate to step forward, placing her hand on the tip of his long, scaled nose. His head was roughly the size of her entire body and his scales were warm and smooth to the touch. You aren’t afraid?
“Of course not,” she said, shaking her head. “I know it’s you, Idris. How could I be frightened? I think you’ve seen me in a more dangerous state.” He pushed his head into her shoulder, and she stroked his brow.
I knew you wouldn’t hurt me. At least, not on purpose, he said. She was glad that he had such faith in her, even when she had none in herself.
“Come on, children. That’s enough flirting. You two need to be on your way sometime today,” Rowan said, though it seemed as if she was holding back laughter. Idris snorted, but he allowed them to come forward and help her with the harness that would allow them to clip their bags to his body while they flew. He flapped his wings to make sure everything was secure, and then it was time to go.
Maeve got a hug from everyone, even Lord Aidan, though he was a little tentative. It was funny to think that the most powerful fae in the Otherworld was a bit shy, but maybe his power was part of the reason. “I expect you both to come back safe,” he said as he released her, wagging his finger in his son’s direction.
“Don’t worry, I’ll do my best to keep him out of trouble,” she said as she pulled herself astride Idris’s neck. He was not anything like a horse, obviously, but the riding lessons helped her not to embarrass herself getting on, at least.
Very funny, he said. Now, hold on. He didn’t flap his wings at first, or even head for the front door, which was what she expected. Instead, he started climbing a nearby tower, which, she now saw, was fashioned with convenient handholds.
“What, exactly, are we doing?” she asked, clinging tightly to his neck. They reached the top of the flat tower, and he walked right to the edge. It was gouged with claw marks. She had a premonition, a horrible premonition.
Haven’t you ever watched birds? It’s much easier to take off from a height, especially when carrying extra weight. He spread his wings wide, and Maeve shut her eyes. Don’t worry. I won’t drop you. He leaped into the air, and they plunged toward the ground. The wind whistled in her ears. Someone was screaming. It was probably her. And then, his wings seemed to cup the wind, and they zoomed upward. When she looked back, the estate was a cream smudge in the horizon.
Back on the ground, Rowan watched them fly off with
a peaceful smile. “Don’t they remind you of someone?” she said, slipping her arm through her husband’s elbow.
“You didn’t scream,” he said, his expression both fond and wistful. Fenella took one look at them, groaned, and took Oisin back in the house for a snack. Rhosyn rolled her eyes as she followed. They pretended not to notice.
“I had known you longer. I had more reason to trust your judgment,” Rowan said, chuckling. “Besides, I’ve never been the sort to be frightened by the unknown.”
“That’s certainly true. I hope they make each other as happy as you have made me,” Aidan said, kissing her cheek. She squinted into the sky, but they were already too far away to see.
“It’s still early. But I have a good feeling about them.”
****************
Once she got over the shock of the first fall, Maeve found she liked flying as long as she didn’t pay too much attention to how far below them the ground actually was. Idris had warned her to dress warmly, so as long as she leaned close against his neck, the wind did not bother her. The sun was bright in the blue sky, and the fluffy white clouds spun themselves into fantastical shapes. She and Idris spoke about music, riding, and even the latest court gossip, anything to keep both of their minds from thinking about the trials that lay ahead. The sky turned gray, not like clouds, but as if all the color had faded from the world. Maeve was suddenly reminded of the night she had left her father’s fortress. There had been a strange fog then as well, and it had frightened and confused her.