The Seelie Fae Council went to Queen Mab of the Daoine, and Aaibhe—a Daoine princess—was made Queen of the Seelie Fae. She was more than a royal. She was a royal of the Daoine, the highest caste of Seelie Fae.
Aaibhe had been just what they all needed. She was gentle, kind, and wise. She knew what to do as soon as she took the throne, and her commands and decisions were always wise and far-sighted. She led them all to Ireland when Danu began to crumble beyond control.
Gais had adored her from the moment they met. He had served her and befriended her. He had given her wise council, and he had become her lover. He knew she would not appoint him king. She could not. He was not a royal, but she could name him consort. He felt he deserved that much. However, somehow, she began to drift away from his bed. Somehow, she relegated him to ‘friend’ instead of lover, and he managed to bear it all with dignity.
He had been satisfied enough as long as she took no other, and she didn’t. She had left his arms, but she never took to another’s.
Aaibhe seemed uninterested in anything more than a ‘companion’ over the following centuries, and he was always hers. He took care of his physical needs with others, but he was always discreet, and he continued to be her escort and friend.
He was pleased that she always turned only to him for quiet conversations, and he hoped one day she would once again allow him in her bed.
His adoration for her was well known, but when the time came that they offered the humans a treaty, now known as the Treaty with Man—a treaty she had been responsible for instituting—he had been her most staunch opposition. It had gone against everything he believed and everything he wanted. Ireland was theirs, and he made no secret of his opinions. He was however, outnumbered. The Seelie Fae as a race were sickened by war; it had cost them their beloved Danu. They would not (though they had the might to) commit genocide against the humans.
Gaiscioch would have wiped out every human to the last baby to keep Ireland and Scotland for the Fae. He felt humans destroyed what they touched. He believed humans were avaricious, without thought to consequences. He told her all these things. He told her humans needed to be led because, after all, they only used but a small fraction of their brain. They were not ready to rule such a wondrous land. But she and the Council outvoted him.
He had no choice but to follow and help build the Isle of Tir, where the Seelie Fae were content to conduct their immortal lives. Aaibhe was his queen, and although he thought she had been wrong, he allowed the Treaty to go forward without another word. How could he not, when he could only stare at her with longing?
As it happened, this morning he noticed her doing her rounds of Scotland. It was the Beltaine, and the rituals were necessary to maintain the Prison Wall. She often enjoyed observing, unobserved as she took stock of her Druids and how they performed the rituals.
He smiled to himself and decided he would join her on her rounds. He had often done so in the past. He loved Scotland, and it was an excursion that was sure to please. As she stepped onto the beauteous Highlands grass and he was about to do the same, however, something stopped him, and he held back to watch.
What, by Danu, was she doing? She was talking to the Druid priest. They were laughing together! That was not her place—to laugh with the human. Gaiscioch felt a rage begin to form inside his head.
The Druid was there to do the bidding of the Seelie Fae, not laugh with their queen! It was said that Druids were the result of Fae and human unions. It was said that the queen had secretly allowed these unions when they’d first arrived—encouraged these unions to produce the Druid race. Was this true? He had not noticed at the time.
It was said the first Druids had been trained by the Trackers for twenty years; then those Druid elders carried on the training themselves. Was this so? Could it be true? He had never paid much attention to the whispers before.
He had never dreamt that she, a queen, would engage in light banter—no, it was more than that. She was openly flirting with the human. He had not seen her flirt with anyone in centuries.
She called him Conall of MacTalbot. He was a high Druid priest from the original line, and she was asking him about his family and his life.
Gaiscioch felt a swelling of jealousy, but it was more than that. It was his pride—that she should show such interest in this Druid priest, when she scarcely looked his way lately, was beyond tolerable!
When the Druid priest touched her, Gais thought he would not be able to control himself, but he did, and he watched as the two lowered themselves to the blanket she had provided. He watched them as they sat smiling and whispering on the softly spun blanket in the ring of magic she created for them. The bile he tasted formed the first explosion of bitterness in his brain, as anger turned a deaf ear to logic.
Rage infiltrated his blood and made it hot to the point of bubbling. Jealousy, yes, but the extreme sense of humiliation was what actually got stuck in his throat. He could not swallow. No one other than himself could see that she had taken up with a human rather than him, but he was filled with embarrassment all the same. It tore at his sense of self-worth. It ripped through his pride and smashed everything he had ever thought she and he were to each other.
Decay of what had been created a film and lined his tongue, and he spat into the barren dimension he stood in and watched them as a sensation of hatred curled around his essence and burrowed a hole in his brain. He could no longer think clearly. Nevertheless, a plan evolved in his head.
As he watched them touch one another, he was overwhelmed and filled with hate… and yet, oddly enough, aroused beyond his comprehension.
He had not touched Aaibhe or seen her naked in so long, and here she was spread out before a human, touching a human, letting him touch her. It was maddening. It should be his hands on her, his cock in her mouth…
In spite of his fury, he discovered that his shaft was hard and throbbing, and he released it from his leathers.
Fae morals see sex as a necessary act. They rarely equate love and sex—their lifespan is forever, and very often lovers tire of one another and seek some other’s attention in a fit of ennui. However, he had not tired of Aaibhe. He wanted her still.
He could have written this off as ‘just a bit of sexual relief’, but something in the way they moved together, touched one another, told him otherwise.
He needed to imagine that Aaibhe was in his arms, and he held his throbbing cock in his fist and stroked it with speed and determination as he watched his queen and the Druid priest. All he could think was that she should be in his arms… not the human’s.
When his relief was achieved, a sure bitterness followed.
* * *
Conall’s tongue danced a slow waltz with hers and touched a passion in Aaibhe she had thought long lost. His need seemed feral as he tasted her and reveled in her beauty. He plunged his velvet tongue deep inside her mouth as he played with her rosebud nipples and then swept his hands over her body.
He came away from her lips and looked down at her to huskily tell her, “Love, my love, I am going to take you in ways you never imagined…”
“Now—yes, I want that… Take me now!” she begged.
“Slowly, lass, I want everything about this time to last… this our first time. I am going to explore every inch of you until my fingers find the hot, wet lips between your beauteous legs and then… ah… here it is…”
He plunged one finger inside while his hand cupped and vibrated the apex between her thighs. Another finger joined the first, and he pumped her hard and with a movement that drove Aaibhe wild with desire. She marveled at the sensations he aroused in her. She, who had not wanted a male, or sex, or intimacy, arched her back and called his name as she climaxed with an energy that left her breathless.
“Again…” he said as he moved his lips from the naked, silky skin at her midriff down to her belly and then buried his face between her legs.
He licked slowly, lightly, but she grabbed the long lengths of his thick, b
lack hair and pulled as she begged, “Harder… rougher… more… Conall… more…”
“I know,” he whispered. “You want this…” He nibbled casually as though he had all the time in the world, and then as she began to grind and hump with abandon, a low, pleased, primal growl escaped his throat. He lapped harder, until she arched and exploded once more with his name on her lips.
He positioned himself then, getting first on his knees, picking her up around the waist, turning her around and setting her on her hands and knees. He played with his cock on her ass, slapping it lightly there before he took her butt in his hands and set her in place to receive him. He entered with slow ease, pulled out, and then rammed inside hard and fast, and then out.
She turned when he pulled out, and it was her turn to growl. “More and more again… Conall.”
He laughed, and it was the sound of happiness as he slammed and pumped himself inside her, bending over her back and fondling her breasts as he drove home his hard, throbbing shaft. He wielded himself inside her, making her grind and bump to his movements, until he knew she was ready to collapse from pleasure, and then he pulled out, prohibiting her climax.
She cast him a look of surprise, and he reminded himself that she was a queen, the queen of the formidable Fae. Even so, at that particular moment in time, he set that thought aside and eyed her mischievously, lovingly, caressingly and said as he rolled over, “Ride me, love… ride me now…”
* * *
Was it in that moment? Was it when he told her to ride him that she knew she was already falling in love?
Falling? She rather thought she was there. He was like no other. She wanted to live in his glance and beneath his smile. She wanted to be with him always.
How could it have happened so soon? How had any of this happened at all? She was a queen of Fae, and of course she—any Fae—could take their pleasures from a human if they wished. They often did, but they never became attached. It was unheard of… mortals were just that. They died.
She looked at his ruggedly handsome face, and she felt as though she would not be able to breathe without him…
Here was the mate she had needed all her life—his smiles, his laughter, his blue eyes that spoke of things no other human could understand. She was certain of that. They were somehow bonded—she knew it.
She had never felt such ecstasy while making love with any male of her own race. They were expert in the art—it wasn’t that. This was spiritual, as though they were a part of the earth, the wind, the fire, and… each other. She had never felt such completeness.
Aaibhe climbed on Conall MacTalbot, and she rode him—oh, she rode him hard with a circular movement as her insides squeezed his shaft and made his moan with pleasure. She threw back her head as her body ground against his, as he fondled her tits and played with her nipples, and when she climaxed again her entire body felt as though it were exploding. It was another full, throbbing implosion she didn’t think she could have achieved but did without trying. It was all so effortless.
Holding her in his arms, he rolled with her as he remained inside her, and he pumped himself hard into her and said, “Now … beloved, now with me…”
And she couldn’t believe—her body went into overdrive, and she felt a burst of sensation as though on his command, with him, as he groaned out her name and pumped her full with his seed.
Later, they walked his Highlands for what seemed like hours. He showed her his beloved lands and then put her on his horse and nimbly jumped up behind her, cradling her as though she were a delicate treasure and not a formidable queen of Fae.
They left the Dolman Monoliths behind as he headed for MacTalbot Castle.
“Where are you taking me?”
“To your new home.”
She froze. “But, Conall… I cannot remain with you at MacTalbot. I am Queen of the Seelie Fae and cannot desert my race and the life I lead there.”
“I know, but when you can get away… you will come be with me at MacTalbot. I don’t want to be apart from you, but better this way than nothing at all.”
She sighed and leaned back into him. They didn’t speak as each was lost to their own dreams and fears of the future.
* * *
Aaibhe was torn. While she conducted her duties and responsibilities at Tir and with the Council, her mind and emotions were at MacTalbot. She knew this haphazard existence couldn’t continue. Timing between the two worlds was off; when she was in Tir, sometimes days and weeks passed in the human Realm. She had to find a way to be with Conall more often.
She was thoroughly enchanted with his two scampish young sons. They were so much like their father. Aaibhe had never been blessed with a child. As with so many of the Fae, even the Royal Fae, conceiving a child seemed to be a difficult, almost impossible, achievement. However, when she was with Conall, she felt that he and she might be able to have a child one day…
It was on this thought that Aaibhe made up her mind and put her decision into action. There was no other way.
They sat together in his garden on a stone bench and held one another’s hands as the boys played with each other under their watchful glances. She said, “Conall… I would like to ask you to be…” Her insides did flip-flops, and she marveled at her nervousness. When was she ever nervous? Never!
“You would like to ask me…” he prompted her.
“To be my consort and live with me on Tir.” She held up her hand to his chest. “Wait, don’t answer… We would have to ask the boys as well… and I would like you to take the elixir of immortality, which we will give to them when they come of age.”
He sat back and went deep into thought. Waiting for him to digest all this, she kept her peace. He had to come to his own decision. She didn’t want to force him or talk him into it.
“The boys will be free to come and go when they get older?”
“Of course,” she answered excitedly.
“MacTalbot… I can’t allow it to go to ruin… and my tenants depend on me.”
“We shall visit, and your man James can manage it in our absence. He is worthy. I promise you, naught will come of MacTalbot, as we shall keep a watchful eye. It shall prosper, as will your tenants.”
He grinned and touched her chin. “Then I am your consort and shall do whatever you ask.”
“Soon then—tomorrow then, beloved. I shall return to you with the elixir, and we shall leave for Tir. We will have a short ceremony… only to make it official.”
“Not tomorrow, for I have to tie up loose ends here.” He sighed and then frowned. “Will any object to our union—to me and the boys living amongst the Fae?”
“Why, no. Why should they?”
“I am a human,” he offered gently.
“A high Druid priest… and although I wish it, you wouldn’t be king—the title of consort is a formality, because we have always had a matriarch ruler. Only the Dark King tried to change that, and although he managed to gain power over Queen Bridget… at what cost?”
He sighed. “What I will miss is MacTalbot.”
“You shall come and go as you please—every single day if you wish. Time in Tir moves differently, but we will work it all out, my love.”
“And will you miss me when I am gone?” he whispered softly and kissed her ear.
“Beyond your imagination. There is no other I could ever miss.”
“Thank the bloody hell for that,” he said with a chuckle and then sighed. “But, my love, I will need something to do on Tir… I cannot be left to fiddle away my time.”
“There are a great many things you can do. You will meet Nuad, my chief Tracker, and he will teach you many things. Then in turn you will teach the young. Will you take the elixir tomorrow?”
He patted her hand. “Soon, queen of my heart… soon.”
She smiled, but a fear gripped her. He was mortal, and until he took the elixir he was vulnerable to so much that could hurt him. However, she wouldn’t—couldn’t—force the issue. The decision of ti
ming had to be his freely.
His eyes lit up with passion and made her put aside her worry and concerns as she moved sensually within his arms.
With all her powers and abilities, she never thought to look beyond their private world. She had no idea they were being watched from another dimension, and she wouldn’t learn of it and its consequences until centuries later, when it was too late…
~ Three ~
GAISCIOCH WAS WELL over seventy thousand years old. He was not a royal, and therefore he should have visited the Cauldron and taken the libation it offered. All ancient Seelie Fae needed to drink from the Cauldron if they were to retain their sanity. Madness was a side effect of immortality that only the royals were spared.
He didn’t want to indulge, however, as drinking from the Cauldron would have wiped out memories he cherished and wished to keep.
He didn’t think he had dipped into madness when he began devising a plan to rid himself of the human. If only the queen had made him a royal… She should have made him a royal. She had explained that it was a birthright she could not bestow, but he had not believed her…
And he had never believed his sanity had been in jeopardy. He did not believe he had dipped into madness as he made his plans and began the process of setting them in place. Eventually, in the future, when everything had fallen into place, he meant to overthrow the queen and take back Ireland and Scotland and then, if he so chose, the World!
He knew just how he was going to do this.
No one would suspect him. He was a faithful warrior—a hero. But he had had enough. He would not stand by and allow a human to stand beside his queen. He would see her dead first, but that was not yet necessary. There was still the outside chance she would return to him, to his bed—if the human were eliminated.
His plan was disciplined and brilliant, but first he would let off a little steam. He would first take a human woman, and when he was done with her body, he would slice her in half. Breaking the queen’s law was a joy that could only be matched if he could shout what he had done from the rooftops! He couldn’t, though. He would have to settle for the kill… and he would have to be careful.
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