Once Upon a Time

by Marylyle Rogers

  Comlan reached out to release ebony hair from tidy restraints while quietly speaking. "I will live the length of your mortal lifetime in this world with you."

  Amy gasped and looked up, shocked, delighted and alarmed. How could she possibly hold the interest of her fantasy hero for even the length of a single human life? And then what came after for him? Surely Comlan would return to being king of the Tuatha De Danann? If not, she couldn't allow him to relinquish so much for her.

  Comlan saw a myriad of fleeting emotions cross Amy's face and tried to relieve the one most basic— confusion. "I'll live with you here so long as you give me a vow in return."

  Amy was curious about the nature of this vow but having already made the decision to surrender everything for his sake, she refused to appear uncertain by asking questions whose answers wouldn't make a ha'porth of difference to her choice.

  "Whatever you ask, I'll gladly give to you," Amy softly responded, an assurance for which, once again, Comlan's devastatingly slow smile was reward enough.

  "I ask you to swear on all you hold most dear…" Comlan's expression became as solemn as his request."… That when the end to your mortal life looms near, you will give yourself into my hands."

  "Then, as now, I'll always be yours." With the words Amy gave Comlan a whimsical smile of such intense warmth it near melted him.

  Thrilled by the open love on her face, Comlan's eyes exploded with green flames as he pulled her willing body into his arms.

  "I knew you couldn't be truly happy at the expense of anguish brought to loved ones by an inexplicable disappearance." He spoke against the cream satin of her throat. "And yet, I can never again be happy without the dark colleen I love."

  The body yielding moments before went still as Amy responded. "No more than I could be happy if your tarrying in my world prevents you from returning to your home and responsibilities." She struggled to lean a handsbreadth back and see his expression. "So, please, tell me if remaining with me will cost all that you hold dear?"

  "Waste no moment worrying on that matter." With a reassuringly broad smile, he nuzzled her ear. "It will all come right in the end."

  Amy would've asked for an explanation had his mouth not taken hers and driven every sane thought from her mind.

  Comlan gladly welcomed Amy's surrender and stroked his hand down a slender back, urging her even closer. Amy loved the feel of his big, hard body against hers. She savored the warm maleness of him as his lips drew back to test the texture of hers, teasing them open again to welcome the hungry depth of a kiss that went on and on. And all the while her dainty hands worked their seductive magic on him until his breathing grew harsh, quick, and his arms trembled about her.

  Within the fairy circle and invisible to unlikely human wanderers beyond its borders, Comlan eased Amy back to lie on the soft cushion of grass. Lazy, sensuous eyes of green flame brushed over Amy's passion-rosed face as he slowly drew the clothes from her willing body and rid himself of his own. He then lowered himself into invitingly raised arms, and joined together they flew into a blaze stoked by mutual love proclaimed to an incredible firestorm of immediate delight and promise of future joys.

  After long moments that seemed to stretch without end, Comlan rolled to his back and drew Amy into the shelter of his arms. Smoothing the tangled silk of dusky hair and stroking gentle ease over his trembling colleen, he marveled at the realities of this human lover who so far surpassed all others he'd known before.

  Savoring the feel of crisp curls and hard muscle beneath her cheek, Amy nestled closer to the heat she knew could so easily blaze into a wild inferno of sweet pleasures.

  "Amy-love," Comlan whispered after shifting Amy to lie on the grass and rising up on an elbow to nuzzle the ear beneath a thick swathe of black silk.

  Amy remained so perfectly still it was clear she merely pretended to sleep.

  "Wake up, Amy-love," Comlan called again, nibbling the creamy flesh of a bare shoulder. "We've been gone too long, and I fear your father will call me out for besmirching his daughter's good name."

  Amy's lips compressed tightly, obviously to quell a grin.

  Seeing her poorly restrained amusement, Comlan added, "And I really hate considering to what manner of retribution I've left myself vulnerable when it comes to the ire of your good mother—a fire-breathing dragon in another life, I've no doubt."

  A bubble of laughter escaped, forcing Amy to abandon the game. Not, she conceded, a serious loss when much more enjoyable play was so near. Reaching up to run the fingers of one hand through thick golden strands, she belatedly provided a defense, of sorts, for her parents.

  "The announcement of my upcoming marriage to Lord Comlan of Doncaully—the Season's most sought-after bachelor—will excuse our tardiness, even our absence. And you'll be welcomed into the bosom of my family with every possible sign of good cheer."

  Comlan cast Amy a dubious glance which she promptly allayed.

  "Oh, yes." Amy solemnly nodded. "They'd have welcomed any marginally appropriate suitor (hence, Orville) to relieve them of the embarrassing burden of an unwed daughter rapidly sinking into spinsterhood."

  "You? A prune-faced, passionless spinster?" Comlan's skeptical expression deepened. "Couldn't happen."

  "Indeed, it could. Indeed, I'd have preferred that independent state to marrying someone like Orville." Clear crystal gray eyes steadily met emerald. "And, like Daffy before me, I would gladly have exchanged Society's tight bonds for the peaceful countryside."

  "Ah, but Daffy wasn't alone in the peaceful countryside," Comlan reminded Amy. "She had Patrick."

  "Patrick…" The name reminded Amy of another, small puzzle waiting to be solved. "Please tell me how you first encountered him. Daffy says that the story is not hers to' tell but that you might share it with me."

  Golden hair glowed as Comlan tilted his head to one side and began a tale oft repeated in both the human world and his Faerie Realm.

  "Far into his cups one summer evening, Patrick staggered into the ruins you were drawing the day we met. It doesn't happen often and rarely enough that it seldom interferes with our plans. But Patrick was different. Patrick boldly shouted out his demand that as a true believer he must be allowed to see us."

  Comlan paused to send his listener a meaningful glance that Amy wished herself able to understand.

  "I sat with Patrick that night and many nights more before he proved himself trustworthy enough to be invited into our midst." He nodded in answer to Amy's unspoken question. "Yes, into my castle where he joined in our amusements."

  "But if it took so long for Patrick, a true believer, to be accepted, how is it that a skeptic like me was taken there at our first meeting?"

  Bronze brows lifted into exaggerated arches but mockery gleamed in the green eyes below, and Amy nearly bit her tongue to belatedly silence the foolish question.

  "Daffy." She answered her own query.

  Elaborating on her simple statement, Comlan said, "Daffy, Patrick and the drinking horn on her cottage wall."

  "Drinking horn." Amy gave him a speaking look that made it clear she believed this strange addition another example of the delight he took in confusing her with convoluted puzzles.

  Comlan nodded. "Over the years the jolly Patrick told his tales far and wide—some true and some not—until too many scoffed. Wanting something to prove his adventures real, one night he slipped away with a drinking horn from my hall."

  "He stole something from you?" Amy was horrified.

  "Oh, now I don't think he'd ever have said his action was that." Ruefully grinning, Comlan softened her statement. "Nay, Patrick would've insisted he'd merely borrowed my drinking horn for a time. However, when he took that vessel, he unknowingly carried away its powers, too."

  "Powers?"

  "Aye." Comlan's wry smile returned. "Fill it once and it'll never run dry."

  Amy couldn't help but grin. "From all I've heard of Patrick, that must've greatly pleased him."

  "Indeed,
but it was the drinking horn's ability to summon me that he most delighted in."

  "A drinking horn summons you?" Amy blinked in surprise.

  "When the golden tip end is removed and the horn blown, it issues a clarion call I alone can hear— but, like your amulet, it is effective only under the direst of circumstances."

  "Are you saying that Daffy used the horn to summon you and arrange a meeting with me. If so, what dire circumstances prevailed? Couldn't Maedra have more easily carried Daffy's request to you?"

  "Daffy senses her end drawing near, circumstances sufficiently dire for her call to be heard." Comlan solemnly met Amy's gaze. "Yes, Maedra could've given me Daffy's message but I wouldn't be required to answer. Nor, more importantly, would I have been required to grant Daffy's wish."

  "So, after being summoned by the drinking horn you had no choice but to meet me?"

  "Yes—but no as well."

  Again Amy recognized a paradox so favored by his kind and patiently waited.

  "At Daffy's request I agreed to meet her grand-niece if she entered Lissan's fairy ring. You did. And, though you claimed you didn't, like Patrick, you saw me because you do believe. If you hadn't, you wouldn't have been able to see me in my natural state, and then not even Daffy's wish could have compelled me to escort you to my home."

  Before Amy could stew herself into a froth, worrying that Comlan felt trapped by her great-aunt's shenanigans, he swept such unworthy fears aside.

  "Think how fortunate we are and what endless joys we would have missed had you truly not believed in fairies?"

  Beneath her devastating lover's gentle smile, Amy laughed… until he bent his head to seal their commitment by fitting his mouth to hers with exquisite care.

  Chapter 20

  The sky was a cloudless azure and only the gentlest of breezes blew on the summer day when Lord Comlan of Doncaully married Miss Amethyst Danton in the most elegant and well attended event of the Season. The newlyweds greeted every guest during the lengthy reception that followed. And they couldn't depart until after congratulatory kisses were given by every relative from Amy's youngest niece to the great-aunt dressed for the first time in many years in a warmer shade than black.

  And yet it was the felicitations of another new-wedded couple that brought the brightest grin to Amy's lips. Though initially surprised, she was pleased that Dooley had chosen to remain in the human world and live out a mortal lifetime with his tartar-tongued but remarkably sweet Beattie.

  As an open landau pulled away from the crowd of well-wishers spilling from lawns into the street, the bride and groom waved. However, this was but the first of two rites planned for today and the only one familiar to Amy.

  Nervous about what lay ahead, once their vehicle had moved beyond the wedding guests' view, Amy thought to hold nerves at bay with small talk. She turned to her wonderful new husband with a small question.

  "While we chatted with Lord Palmerston after the wedding breakfast, I realized that I've never asked you how it is that the king of the Tuatha De Danann is so well acquainted with a British lord?"

  Comlan grinned but didn't speak.

  "Come now, satisfy my curiosity." Under his silence, her initial niggling curiosity intensified. "You don't have a home in Ireland. So how did you meet? How did you become friends?"

  "I certainly do have an Irish home!" Comlan returned with mock fervor while ignoring her questions.

  Amy teasingly batted at him. "Not a human home where humans can visit."

  "I do now—just for you." Again Comlan promptly responded.

  Her groom was purposefully avoiding her questions, and Amy's curiosity soared as she gravely announced, "I've been reliably informed that you must answer direct questions."

  Comlan's loving grin tilted awry. "Only if the information is mine to give."

  Amy's head tilted and she gazed at him skeptically.

  "Truly." His handsome face went solemn. "As with Daffy and the story of her Patrick's first encounter with the Faerie Realm, there are some tales that are not mine to share."

  "I see." Amy slowly nodded. "I won't ask again."

  His human wife's willingness to abide by the rules of his land reaffirmed Comlan's confidence in the Tightness of their union.

  A very few minutes later the landau pulled into the gloomy stable behind Comlan's rented London home. He didn't help his bride down. Instead, he pulled her close into the circle of his arms.

  An instant later the couple stood in the silken garb of a distant past and only a brief step from the drawbridge leading to the Tuatha De Danann's incredible Irish castle.

  A cheering crowd waited beyond the door at the far end of the wooden bridge. Amy drew a deep, reviving breath before laying her fingertips atop Comlan's upraised forearm and walking forward at his side.

  As on her last visit, once inside the luxurious hall where laughter filled the air, Amy was swept into a merriment even cheerier for being a celebration.

  Amy was amazed at how little time passed before Comlan's subjects began forming in a double ring. While they waited in an uncanny silence, Comlan placed a crown of fragrant blooms upon ebony hair and led her to the center of the two circles where a very old woman garbed in scarlet stood motionless. When the couple were in place she tied Amethyst's dainty hand to Comlan's much larger ones with silken ribbons. They were next given a finely chased goblet of gold from which to offer each other the finest ambrosia.

  Taking a final sip of the heady brew, Amy realized that everyone had returned to their prior amusements.

  "Contrary in all things?" Amy grinned up at the devastating man who now was unbelievably hers by the rites of two worlds.

  "It's nearly the only unchanging principal in this realm," Comlan agreed.

  The bride and groom soon joined the ongoing feast. As Comlan had already assured her that she no longer need fear eating or drinking in his realm, Amy savored incredible dishes and sipped elixirs unlike anything she'd ever tasted. In very little time she felt as overstuffed as a Christmas goose.

  "Come." Comlan took her hand as he rose. "I have one duty to fulfill before we leave all of yours and all of mine behind and escape to our private paradise."

  Comlan led Amy through the crowd to a far corner of the hall where a man, equally green-eyed and golden, stood waiting.

  "Gair, this is my bride, Amethyst."

  Considering the similar coloring of these two men, Amy wasn't truly surprised to see that Gair's wry smile was very nearly a replica of Comlan's and even less surprised to hear what next Comlan said.

  "Amy, this is my younger brother, Gair, who will rule in my stead while I'm gone."

  "And don't worry, little sister." Gair grinned. "I don't covet my brother's position and would refuse to hold it for any great span of time."

  Amy's attention shifted to Comlan as he bent to lift a previously unnoticed staff of fine wood intricately inlaid with precious metals and studded with gems.

  Steadily holding that item upright in one hand, Comlan turned to face his hall. Several firm taps of the staff against a stone floor echoed loudly. The chamber went instantly quiet. When every subject's eyes were focused on their king, the jewels on the symbol of his position began to glow as brightly as small suns.

  "I entrust this staff to my brother, Gair, and with it I entrust my realm to his care." Comlan's gaze slowly moved from face to face. "While I am gone give him the respect and allegiance you've so long given to me."

  Comlan waited for a soft rumble of voices to fade before adding, "I'll be away for but the span of a single human life and on my return will expect to hear that all continued as if I were present."

  Abruptly thrusting the staff into his brother's hand, Comlan swept Amy into his embrace. An instant later they were gazing from a large window across a verdant valley dotted with sheep and blessed with fields of vibrant wildflowers.

  With love unhidden, Comlan turned to his bride and in a voice like velvet thunder said, "I promised both paradise and a human a
bode… and here we are."

  Amy laced her arms about him and stared up with equal emotion. "My dream in Lissan's ring of flowers began with the words Once Upon a Time and now my fairy tale has come true!" With all her might Amy hugged the powerful body of her fantasy hero come to life.

  "And your dreams are doubly effective for your fairy tale also brought happiness and love to one who foolishly thought that during his very long life he'd tasted every experience from the bitter to the sweet." Comlan paused while Amy rose up on tiptoe to steal a brief kiss. "With you every hour is new and filled with more joy than, I ever dreamed could be."

  In delightful retribution for her theft, Comlan gave Amy a lingering kiss before pulling, back to murmur, "I no longer grieve for Lissan's choice. If she was as happy with Killian as I am with you, she made the right decision. A few days of such happiness as this is more valuable than an eternity without."

  Amy's smile grew in brilliance. Here was proof that she needn't fear Comlan would come to resent her for what he'd left behind. And when the groom took his bride's hand to lead her to their massive bronze bed, she welcomed its promise of a continuing firestorm of sweet love and devastating pleasure.

  Epilogue

  May 1, 1900

  That dawn that May Day morn anyone had gone exploring through the green and gentle hills of Ireland, they might have glimpsed an astonishing sight.

  Up a slope, surely too challenging, climbed a white-haired gentleman with the firm stride of a much younger man. He cradled an elderly woman close, effortlessly carrying her to the hilltop. And all the while they were followed by a startlingly beautiful woman like some golden fairy maid from the mystic past.

  No human voice disturbed the pastel peace as the much younger figure embraced the aged couple. After the older female pinned a broach on her bodice, the blond woman stepped well back. It was then that the man lowered his burden's feet to the ground just inside the ring of glorious flowers encircling an ancient oak.

  With the endless gentleness of a loving heart, Comlan held his Amy close against his side and began guiding her unsteady, halting steps on the first of several trips around the fairy ring… and a journey back through time.