Faerie Story:  Chapter Thirteen

No sooner had Skinner re-entered the banqueting hall than the atmosphere in the courtyard changed dramatically.

Perhaps the guards were unaware that Skinner had just given up his magic but they were well aware that it was the strange, heavily muscled Faerie male who was the true danger to them.

So when Skinner left the courtyard, the guards took that as a signal to advance upon Behaana and the other males.

Benwyn immediately responded with his magic, sending manacles of ice to restrain the foremost of the guards, while several of the other males cast harmless but still impressive ice-fire over the guards’ heads.

It was enough to pause the majority of the guards in their tracks. But not all. The most aggressive women continued to push forward, sure that their numbers alone would easily overcome the male resistance and, to an extent, they were right because none of the males were used to thinking strategically and so instead of separating and using their powers against the women individually, they simply supported Benwyn’s efforts. So it was inevitable that some of the women would break through.

“He’s the dangerous one,” one of the women cried, pointing at Benwyn and encouraging the other females to concentrate on attacking him. “Kill him and the rest will be harmless.”

“Think again, you bitch,” Langly snarled, sending a bolt of red hot fire to immolate her.

Then he smirked at the terrified confusion on the women’s faces that a *mere* monkey-man had killed one of them. “Who wants to be next?” he taunted, raising a new ball of fire in his hand and raising his arm threateningly.

For an instant the women froze in place and then, en masse, they turned and bolted back to their barracks.

Langly casually blew out the flame, grinned at his companions and said. “Okay then. Now *that’s* sorted, let’s find out what’s keeping Skinner.”

“You can’t,” Roga growled. “You promised Skinner to remain here at Behaana’s side.”

Langly’s face fell slightly. “But there’s no danger here now.”

“He’s right,” Frohike sighed. “You *did* promise.” But then he turned his attention on the other Faerie. “But I didn’t, and neither did the rest of you. Surely *one* of you has the courage to at least follow me inside.”

“It’s not a matter of courage,” Behaana said, in gentle reproof. “None of my people can use their magic in violence.”

“They managed well enough at Soma,” Frohike reminded him grimly. “So how about it? Are you all just going to stand there like sheep or will at least *one* of you enter the hall with me?”

~~~

“NO,” Alexin yelled, struggling wildly for escape as two of Rhianna’s guards grabbed hold of Skinner’s arms and pinned him firmly in place. Even Skinner’s new height and strength were no match for two heavily muscled Faerie women. “You can’t harm him. He had the power to just kill you and steal me back but he didn’t. He didn’t even *threaten* you, Rhianna. He trusted you enough to walk back in here without his magic. You...you can’t repay that trust with violence. It’s not fair!”

Rhianna was distressed by the boy’s frantic protest, but not so much that she changed her order to her guards. “I know you love him, Alexin. But that’s not reason enough for me to allow such a threat to my queendom to survive,” she said firmly.

“But what threat is he without his magic?” Alexin demanded, tears pouring down his face.

“What’s to prevent him lying with yet *another* Faerie and returning here to destroy me and my queendom?” Rhianna retorted. “But... for your sake, I will not allow my guards to torture him. I swear that his death will be swift and as painless as possible.”

“You said you’d let me go with him if he still wanted me,” Alexin wailed. “You promised!”

“Oh, sweet Alexin. You are *such* a naïve child. In time you will come to understand and even thank me for this. You deserve to be the consort of a queen, not victim of this creature’s perversions.”

“I thought you were *nice*!” Alexin howled.

“I *am* nice, sweetness. But not to a dangerous monkey-man who would steal a Faerie male for himself when there are already so few breedable males that the future of our world is in jeopardy.” She turned her attention back to the guards restraining Skinner. “Kill him.”

Then she screeched in disbelief as Alexin stopped his pointless struggling against her embrace and instead leaned down and bit her arm. His bite wasn’t particularly hard or painful, but it was so unexpected that she released her grip on the boy out of sheer shock.

Alexin scrambled off her lap and then paused for a moment, clearly too stunned by his own unboyish action to know what he should do next, but then he shook his head as though to clear it and began to run down the hall towards Skinner.

He reached perhaps halfway before a guard tackled him with a headlong dive that knocked him down. He landed so heavily that he howled in agony as his barely healed buttocks impacted against the tiled floor. Then he screamed in terror and pain as the angry guard grabbed him by his long hair and used it to literally haul him back onto his feet.

“How DARE you,” Rhianna howled, surging to her feet, her bitten arm forgotten as she drew her sword with the intention of driving it into the guard who had dared to treat Alexin so brutally.

Skinner paid little attention to Rhianna’s fury because he was too filled with his own. He roared with wrath and began to struggle wildly against his captors, wanting to *kill* the bitch of a guard for hurting his beloved. If only he still had the power of fire...

And, even as he had the thought, the guard holding Alexin’s hair burst into flames and the two guards holding Skinner’s arms were flung away from him by some invisible force.

“My HAIR!” Alexin screamed, as the ends of his hair began to smolder and singe.

Skinner didn’t even stop to think. The contents of several water jugs flew through the air from the surrounding tables and drenched the screaming boy.

As one, the seated high-caste women rose to their feet and began to gather their power against him. The air crackled above their heads as they drew upon their own fire magic.

Skinner imagined *their* fire being quenched as easily as the flames that had licked at Alexin’s hair and, impossibly, a dark cloud formed in the rafters of the hall and let loose such a heavy torrent of rain upon the women that they were forced to collapse back into their chairs.

While the wet and temporarily powerless women just gaped at him in shock, from all corners of the hall armed guards raced towards Skinner, drawing their swords and charging him fearlessly. But, as they did so, the door behind Skinner crashed open and Frohike charged inside, followed by Benwyn who had ice fire flaming from his fingers.

“You didn’t make *me* promise to stay outside and protect the Ice Queen,” Benwyn roared defiantly, at Skinner’s look of combined relief and outrage.

“Nor *me*,” Byers yelled, joining Frohike and his lover.

Byers and Benwyn sent a series of harmless, but pretty terrifying, balls of blue fire over the guards’ heads so that many of them scattered in sudden panic.

It was a bluff, but it was a damned *good* bluff because all the color drained from Rhianna’s face as the blue flames raced through the hall and Alexin howled in terror.

“Desist before any more harm comes to the prince,” she roared at the guards who had been brave enough not to run in panic from the fire. “Drop your weapons and surrender or I’ll kill you *myself*.”

Rhianna waited only long enough to be sure she’d be obeyed and then, ignoring Skinner, she rushed to Alexin to assure herself that he was more frightened than injured.

It was probably that action that saved her life, because every instinct of Skinner’s was to kill her for her earlier treachery. Because, although his heart burned with jealousy as Rhianna gathered the wet, sobbing boy against her breast and soothed him, Skinner couldn’t bring himself to truly hate someone who loved Alexin so much that she’d clearly rather accept defeat at his hands than risk Alexin being further harmed.

Confusion reigned inside the hall for a few minutes, as Alexin wailed his misery over his singed hair so loudly that, even muffled against Rhianna’s chest, his wails were almost deafening.

Skinner stood there completely stunned by his own demonstration of magic when he *had* no magic. The guards shuffled from foot to foot not knowing what to do and meanwhile, one by one, the Faerie males entered the hall from the courtyard to find out what all the commotion was about.

The only male who seemed completely unsurprised or shocked by the sight that greeted him inside the hall was Behaana.

If anything, he looked rather smug.

“You *knew*, didn’t you?” Roga snarled at his beloved. “You knew that Skinner would somehow gain the ability to draw on *any* magic, if only he had the courage to let go of *yours*.”

“I suspected,” Behaana chuckled. “But my visions have never been *that* reliable, so I wasn’t absolutely sure.”

“You *knew*,” Roga repeated darkly. “You let me worry about your safety for no reason.”

“Not for *no* reason,” Behaana corrected, threading his arm through Roga’s affectionately. “I thought it was time I remembered how much I *like* you worrying about me, Roga.”

Roga blushed deeply and his furious expression was replaced by an almost shy smile. “You’re my world, my Queen. You always have been.”

“I know,” Behaana agreed gently. “But this time, when we re-form our bond, I promise I won’t take that knowledge for granted.”

Alexin’s wails finally faded to hitching sobs. He still clung to Rhianna’s comforting embrace, but he turned enough to look Skinner in the eye and it was clear from the expression on his face that it wasn’t only his hair that he was crying over.

“You...you lied to me,” Alexin sobbed. “You said...said you severed the bond with...with *him*.” He pointed accusingly at Behaana, his eyes dark with despair.

“I did,” Skinner replied softly. “I swear it’s true, my love. Though I fully understand why you would doubt my word under the circumstances.”

“But...but...” Alexin choked, wanting to believe his beloved but incapable of comprehending how Skinner could have used magic if he *had* severed the bond.

“I know,” Skinner said, shaking his head in equal bemusement. “I know not where my magic came from, Alexin. For I swear to you that it was *not* Behaana’s magic.”

“I think your magic is similar to mine,” Behaana suggested. “Like me, you can draw on *any* magic. But, unlike me, you don’t need to draw upon it through another male. You have the ability to use it alone.”

“But how can that be possible?” Skinner asked.

“Who knows? But then again, you’re ‘The One’,” Roga replied. “Perhaps it was always in you to do this, but you had to learn to be comfortable with magic before you could fully embrace your natural abilities. Or perhaps you just had to be in a situation where you *needed* to draw upon the magic residing inside you whether you believed in it or not.”

“Skinner never has been able to truly believe in the existence of magic,” Frohike chuckled fondly. “He wields power that others would kill for and, instead of being smug and self-satisfied about his abilities, he always looks totally surprised that the magic works at all.”

“I’m not fool enough to deny the evidence of my own eyes. So I never denied the magic existed, but I confess I never *have* been comfortable with using it,” Skinner admitted. “But seeing my beloved in danger was obviously enough to shatter any remaining inhibitions I harbored.”

“Then...then you *do* really love me?” Alexin demanded, more convinced by the way Roga and Behaana were embracing each other like lovers than by the totally confusing suggestion that Skinner could use magic whether he was bonded to another male or not.

“Come here, boy, and I’ll prove it to you,” Skinner chuckled, opening his arms in a gesture of welcome.

This time Rhianna didn’t attempt to prevent Alexin from wriggling out of her arms and running to his beloved, but her eyes were filled with honest grief as Skinner caught hold of the boy, swung him around a couple of times with a whoop of joy, and then kissed him so thoroughly that Alexin’s legs buckled.

Frohike waited several minutes, as Skinner attacked Alexin’s mouth with rapacious greed, and then a couple of minutes more, as the now glazed-eyed boy tried to return the favor, and then he cleared his throat noisily.

Skinner pointedly ignored him for at least five more minutes, until Alexin was so weak and breathless that he was desperately clutching at his beloved’s jerkin just to remain upright, and then, with a chuckle, Skinner said, “You wanted something, Frohike?”

“What are you going to do about *them*?” Frohike said, gesturing at the queen and her cohorts.

Skinner frowned and met Rhianna’s eyes. “In all the *other* queendoms, I killed each and every high-born female,” he stated bluntly. “And not one of them were guilty of *your* treachery, Rhianna.”

She flinched slightly, but then raised her head with pride. “Unlike the other queens, I wasn’t born to royalty,” she replied. “I earned my title and my position here. And I did so by seeing what I wanted and never veering from my path. I saw Alexin and wanted him. It was not my nature to give him up to you easily and I make no apology to you for that. Kill me if you will, but don’t ask me to regret falling in love with the boy.”

Alexin looked between Rhianna and Skinner in complete horror. “You can’t *kill* her,” he wailed. “She was *nice* to me.”

“It wasn’t very ‘nice’ of her to attempt to convince you I was in love with Behaana,” Skinner pointed out.

“That was MEAN,” Alexin agreed, throwing a dirty look in Rhianna’s direction. But then his lower lip trembled warningly. “Yet she is *usually* nice so...so perhaps she just panicked and made a mistake. Like...like I made a mistake when I was so horrible to *you*. I didn’t really mean it, so maybe *she* didn’t really mean it either. Perhaps she was just pretending to be mean, like *I* was pretending when I was so mean to you. That must be it, because she *is* nice really. She saved me from Ariana. And she was kind to me. And she plaited my hair. And she never hurt me. Not in *any* way,” he added significantly. “So she’s my friend, Skinner. You can’t kill my friend. That would be *really* mean,” he pouted.

Skinner sighed and kissed Alexin’s forehead. “I can’t expect you to understand,” he soothed. “You’re such a sweet, forgiving boy that I think you’d even find an excuse for Ariana too if you could.”

Alexin looked surprised, but then thoughtful.

“Well, Ariana *was* really upset that I’d lost my magic when my mother had promised it to her,” Alexin agreed seriously, “and so even though she *was* mean, I suppose she had a right to be so angry. But she really hurt me, Skinner, and that wasn’t fair when it wasn’t *my* fault you took my magic.” He bit his lower lip suddenly, looking almost frightened, and then dropped his voice to a near whisper. “And...and I was *glad* Rhianna killed her, even though I know that’s wicked and unboyish of me to say so.”

“I begin to see the boy’s appeal,” Behaana chuckled to Roga. “I can’t remember ever being so innocent and sweet. And he *is* very pretty.”

Skinner gave Alexin a comforting squeeze and turned his attention to Rhianna once more. “For that act alone, I have sufficient gratitude to save your life and that of your high-caste females. But I will sever your bonds with the males you have enslaved and spell you and all in this room so that you can never raise your hands in violence to a male ever again.”

“But they don’t anyway,” Alexin interrupted, his expression suddenly frantic as he noticed the color draining out of Dise’s face at Skinner’s words. “Look around you, Skinner. None of the males in this room are veiled. None of them are frightened of their wives. None of them *want* to be freed. Please, Skinner. Don’t make them suffer as I have suffered, by stealing them from their beloveds. Ask them yourself, if you don’t believe me. Ask Dise whether he loves his wife or not.”

“Alexin, you don’t under...” Skinner began.

“Tell him, Dise,” Alexin insisted.

Dise paled still further, but in a low, hesitant voice he whispered, “I love my wife.” Then he nervously moved his body in front of Rica, as though to shield her from Skinner. “I would rather die than lose my bond with her

There was a short, stunned silence and then another male stepped forward slightly and said, “I, too”. And then several more males repeated the words and moved to stand protectively in front of their wives also.

“How can this be?” Frohike breathed. “Can we truly have found women who treat their males well?”

“So it seems,” Skinner replied.

“Perhaps *these* males are content. But I bet if we entered the barracks here, we’d find a far less pretty picture,” Roga growled suspiciously.

Rhianna met his eyes unflinchingly. “In truth, had you entered this hall just two days ago, you would have found these males veiled,” she admitted. “It is only Alexin’s influence here that has brought such a change to the fortunes of our personal males.”

“That’s not fully true,” Dise said, though he flinched slightly as though fearful of his own bravery in speaking out. “My wife has *always* been kind to me, even despite the veil I previously wore.”

And again several of the other males added their nervous agreements.

“You see?” Alexin said. “The women of this queendom have the *capacity* for kindness. They just need to be... to be...”

“Educated?” Behaana suggested.

“Exactly,” Alexin agreed, clapping his hands excitedly. “And...and if you *have* killed all the other high-caste women, aren’t you going to need them? I mean... well, I mean, doesn’t *someone* have to know how things should be run in a castle?”

Skinner blinked with astonishment and then gave Alexin a squeeze and a broad smile. “Alexin, you are undoubtedly a *genius*.”

“I am?” Alexin asked, his mouth dropping open in happy shock.

“I have a proposal, Rhianna,” Skinner said. “Which you can thank my clever Alexin for. All of the males in your queendom will be freed, except for those who clearly do not *wish* to be freed. But all females, including yourselves, *will* be enspelled not to harm them. If you truly have the capacity for ‘goodness’ that Alexin believes you have, you should have no objection to that idea.”

Rhianna narrowed her eyes a little, but nodded her consent. “I have never had a *wish* to harm a male,” she said. “So I cannot see that your spell would worry me overmuch.”

“It may when you realize you cannot even spank a male to release the tear-magic,” Skinner pointed out dryly.

Several of the women in the hall muttered in anger and alarm. Skinner ignored their protests and continued to address Rhianna.

“My proposal, however, is this. That you willingly provide each queendom with two or three of your high-caste females who will then act as governors of the other females, under the supervision of northern males. Alexin is right that the governing of a castle and a queendom requires a certain amount of knowledge and education, which the southern males and surviving females are lacking. Without leadership, the queendoms will fall into chaos.”

“And what of I?” Rhianna demanded suspiciously.

“As long as you rule wisely, Rhianna, and fully accept the changes and laws which I will impose upon you, I see no reason to remove you as queen of this realm.”

“And what exactly *are* those changes and laws?”

“They’ll all boil down to one thing. That henceforth males are to be equal members of the Faerie society.”

Rhianna blinked with astonishment. “Only equals? I had expected you to demand that females would be subservient to males in your new society.”

“What point is there to that? Replacing one form of slavery with its opposite is just a perpetuation of the crime. Behaana’s dream is of a society of equals, not of male domination. I’m sure he can explain it to you more fully if you genuinely wish to know the details.”

“I do,” Rhianna replied honestly. “I find no argument with your proposals, Skinner.”

“Well, *I* have a question,” Rica said. “How am I supposed to govern a castle and ensure these new ideas of yours are embraced by the lower-caste women if I have no power? If I cannot spank Dise, how can he gift me with his tear-magic?”

“The same way *we* gift each other with the magic,” Behaana laughed. “Through tears of ecstasy.”

“Tears of ecstasy?” another of the women repeated, in obvious bewilderment.

Behaana attempted to explain himself to the women, but most of them simply looked confused. Alexin was also feeling pretty confused, so he gave up trying to follow what Behaana was saying and, deciding he was bored already, acted to bring the conversation to a more speedy close.

Admittedly he felt slightly ill at doing something so against his own covetous nature, but he was still sure he was doing the ‘right’ thing, and he consoled himself that he had lots of pretty presents and so it wouldn’t *really* hurt him to lose just *one* of them.

He crossed over to the high table where all of his wedding gifts were piled, and picked up the gorgeous necklace of sapphire and gold. Then he walked over to Dise and placed the necklace around the boy’s neck.

“It greater suits your pretty blue eyes,” he murmured. “So it is yours to keep.”

The boy stared at him in complete shock for a moment and then burst into tears.

Alexin turned from the boy to the gathered women and said, “Ecstasy is optional. Happiness will often suffice. And, believe me, *nothing* makes a boy happier than pretty gifts.”

The other males nodded their fervent agreement, alternating between envious glances at Dise and speculative looks toward their own wives.

Skinner blinked both in proud astonishment at Alexin’s cleverness and in genuine awe that Alexin had been mature enough to make the decision to give the beautiful jewelry to Dise.

“So much for equality. I predict many obscenely spoiled boys in this new society of ours, Skinner,” Rhianna said dryly.

Skinner offered her a wry smile. “Better that than the alternative. Besides, is there anything more worthy of being spoiled than a beautiful Faerie boy?”

“I’d really suit a necklace like that, too,” Benwyn told Byers with complete seriousness. “My eyes are *far* prettier than Dise’s,” he stated firmly. But then his expression lost a little of its confidence and he frowned worriedly. “Aren’t they?”

“Boys of *any* age,” Byers chuckled, patting Benwyn’s cheek fondly. “Of course your eyes are more lovely, Benwyn. I swear that somehow I will find a way to buy you such a necklace, my love.”

“Well, I think that might be possible,” Skinner chuckled, “since I’m sure you’ll deserve to be paid a more than fair wage for resuming your duties as Alexin’s long suffering nurse.”

“Nurse?” Alexin asked, his expression confused.

“Have you forgotten me already, my Prince?” Byers laughed.

Alexin’s eyes widened with astonishment. He hadn’t taken the time to look closely at any of the other Faerie, since his attention had been fully upon Skinner, Behaana, Roga and Rhianna. And, besides, he’d been worried he might see *another* Faerie with enough beauty to make him query his own perfection so he’d chosen not to take the risk of upsetting himself.

“Is it REALLY you?” Alexin squealed, clapping his hands with glee while jumping up and down with excitement.

“It’s me,” Byers laughed, his eyes filling with tears of joy at the boy’s clear delight to see him.

Alexin skipped over and then threw his arms around Byers in a desperate hug. “I’ve missed you so,” he sobbed. “I have *hated* being without you, Dinah. I had to bathe myself and dress myself and sometimes even comb my own hair, and it was *horrible*. I want to be taken care of properly again.”

“Of course you do, my Prince,” Byers soothed. “It breaks my heart to think of the hardships you’ve suffered. Having to bathe and dress yourself, indeed. The thought totally scandalizes me. I trust that Skinner will take far better care of you in future.”

Byers gave Skinner a completely serious glare of indignation over Alexin’s ‘suffering’.

“I was hoping that *you* would do that, Byers, by resuming your position as his nurse,” Skinner chuckled. “I’m well aware that Alexin was raised to expect that kind of personal care, so it was always my eventual intention to employ someone to look after him. I imagine he would prefer *you* to take that role.”

“Oh, yes,” Alexin agreed ecstatically.

Byers' eyes filled with fresh tears. “You would permit me to do that? Even though he is no longer a boy and should have a carer rather than a nurse?”

“I care not what he calls you. Besides, as you yourself just said, some boys choose to *never* grow up if they can avoid it,” Skinner laughed. “I have a feeling that Alexin will prove himself to be a prime example of that.”

Alexin just grinned happily, seeing no insult whatsoever in the idea of permanently remaining a ‘boy’.

“Though I would understand if you refused,” Skinner added seriously. “You have Benwyn to take care of now, my friend.”

“And how better to take care of my mate than by tending the Prince I adore and earning gold with which to buy delights for Benwyn?” Byers countered, and Benwyn purred with obvious pleasure.

“This is your mate?” Alexin demanded, staring at Benwyn with fascination. “I thought you were...were... um... never mind.” He blushed furiously.

Benwyn gave a tinkling laugh, stepped forward, threaded his arm through Alexin’s and said, “I’ll explain it to you. I think we’re going to be great friends, Alexin. You are SO pretty. I love your gown. At home I rarely wear clothes at all by choice, but seeing you dressed like this makes *me* want a beautiful gown, too. Lots of beautiful gowns. And your eyes are stunning. You really should convince Skinner to buy you some earrings in jade because they’d really compliment your coloring.”

“I like *your* eyes,” Alexin replied. “You should wear turquoise and maybe those lovely blue pearls from Aisa Cove. Have you ever seen Etrovian lace? It comes in this absolutely *beautiful* sea green. I was going to have my wedding gown made of that, but I decided this dusky rose is much more flattering to my hair and skin tone. But the sea green would SO suit you, Benwyn.”

Byers and Skinner exchanged slightly pained looks as the two boys began to conspire together as to how best they might bankrupt their mates.

“I sincerely hope you *meant* it when you said you’d pay me well,” Byers sighed.

“Oh, I *will*,” Skinner laughed, “because, believe me, you’re going to earn it looking after *those* two vain overgrown children.”

“I do HATE you for this, you realize,” Rhianna interrupted dryly. “Though I admit I’ve never seen the boy look so happy.”

Skinner gave the queen a slight bow of acknowledgement. “I probably should hate *you*,” he said, in a voice too low for Alexin to overhear, “for attempting to steal him for yourself. But I cannot blame you for finding him irresistible, and I’ll always be grateful that you treated him so kindly. But be warned, Rhianna, if you should ever cast covetous eyes towards him again, I will not hesitate to kill you.”

Rhianna nodded her acceptance of the warning. “I am not a fool, Skinner. I know how to accept defeat with grace. And,” she added, looking around the room speculatively, “you have brought many beautiful Faerie boys home from the North. Perhaps one of them would care to be consort to a queen.”

“If any so wish, then I will not object,” Behaana announced, when a ripple of speculation ran through some of the unmated Faerie males. “Not all in my queendom are satisfied to be the lovers of males and have long dreamed of one day being mated with a female again. A *kind* female might win one of their hearts, though it would take much work upon your part to convince them of your good intent. No matter how attracted physically they are to the female form, they have good reason to feel terror of the female nature.”

Rhianna nodded her acceptance of his warning, and then turned her attention to one of the gorgeous males who was eyeing her with definite interest. “May I woo you, my prince?” she asked gently.

The male blushed furiously but dipped his eyes in acceptance.

Alexin squealed with pleasure. “Now I can be *truly* happy, because not even Rhianna is sad now.” He turned his attention to the male that Rhianna intended to woo. “She was greatly kind to me,” Alexin assured him. “And she is very generous with gifts,” he added, because that was obviously the *most* important thing. “But...but you *must* insist on keeping Kirin, too. Because I almost forgot about him, and he’s really nice. Not as nice as my Dinah, but nice anyway.”

“Is he talking about a horse?” Skinner wondered aloud.

“I think he’s talking about a nurse,” Frohike chuckled.

“Ahh...” Skinner nodded, rubbing his temples. “I love the boy, Frohike. But it sometimes aches my brain to attempt to make sense of his chattering.”

~~~

The discussions between Skinner, Behaana, Roga and Rhianna continued late into the evening as the Faerie males discovered that Rhianna was surprisingly intelligent and far more open to the idea of an equal, integrated society than they had dared to hope.

Instead of being grudging in her acceptance of Behaana’s idea that there would be one overall Queen of the Faerie, with Rhianna only keeping her own title as a token of respect rather than remaining a *true* queen, Rhianna embraced the idea of a fully united Faerie society.

“It makes sense to me that for such a change to occur, the new rules and guidance of our people should come from a single seat of power,” she said. “And that power should be held in Sylvana’s realm since it is the largest queendom and has control of the ward-gates, so forms a natural barrier between the Faerie world and that of the humans.”

Alexin bored rapidly of the conversation and departed mid-evening, loudly saying that he needed his singed hair to be trimmed and his nails repaired and painted and a myriad of other far more important things than listening to ‘boring’ politics.

So accompanied by Byers, who seemed perfectly convinced that the restoration of Alexin’s beauty *was* far more important than the restructuring of the Faerie world, he left the room.

He did, however, pause nervously at the doorway until he had Skinner’s full attention and whispered, “You *are* joining me later?”

“Of course, my love,” Skinner agreed. “I will only converse long enough to ensure Byers has sufficient time to pamper you appropriately.”

Alexin grinned happily, then turned and skipped out of the hall.

“He is adorable, Skinner,” Behaana said. “So unspoiled, even despite his recent bad experiences.”

“I did not touch him, you know,” Rhianna said. “Except for Ariana’s brief touch, he remains pure.”

“I know,” Skinner said, “and I thank you for that, though I admit I honestly find it hard to understand how you resisted the temptation to take him for yourself. I would... I would have even forgiven you such, as long as you hadn’t frightened or hurt him in the act. I definitely wish it had been *you* who’d broken the bond between us rather than Ariana, and so saved Alexin from that trauma.”

Rhianna smiled wryly. “Had he not been so injured, I would probably have taken him for myself. But he was in great pain, and so I waited. And in waiting, I allowed him the opportunity to work his wiles upon me. It was most peculiar, Skinner. I always *knew* he was playing with me, coming up with excuse after silly excuse why our journey here – and my bedding of him – should be delayed. But even knowing he was play-acting, I still found myself helpless against his clever tears.”

Skinner asked her to explain the comment, and soon found himself almost rolling on the floor with laughter as Rhianna told him of all Alexin’s ploys to delay the journey. Particularly Alexin’s claim to be nauseated by anything other than a slow walk on horseback, considering the pleasure the boy had taken when cantering on Dinah’s back.

It was near midnight when he took his leave and walked to Alexin’s bedchamber.

Byers was waiting in the outer chamber, which was fitted with a nurse’s bed in which Benwyn was already sprawled in sleep.

“There was no need for you to wait up, Byers,” Skinner chuckled. “You must not let your duties with Alexin interfere with your relationship with your beloved. Your beautiful Benwyn looks most lonely in that bed all by himself.”

Byers flushed slightly. “I know,” he said, “but I had need to speak to you on this night. Are you aware that Alexin is scarred?”

Skinner stiffened a little. “I know from Rhianna that Ariana beat his buttocks severely and he will probably always wear the marks of that beating. It breaks my heart to think of his suffering. But I care not that he is scarred for *my* sake, if that’s what you’re asking.”

Byers nodded. “Good,” he breathed with obvious relief. “Because Alexin is most fearful of your reaction to his scars. He struggles with the idea of being less than perfectly beautiful, particularly because you come to his bed directly from Behaana’s. He fears that...that you may yet turn away from him and choose an unblemished mate in his place.”

Skinner sighed heavily. Although he understood Alexin’s fear, it grieved him that the boy trusted him so little. “I love him, Byers. Even if the scars were upon his face, I would not turn away from him.”

“I know,” Byers agreed. “Or at least I *hoped* that would be your reaction. But I felt I had to be sure you understood the necessity to handle Alexin with care on this first night that you are reunited. Forgive me for being as forward as to tell you what you should do, but on *this* night it is far more important that you reassure Alexin of his beauty in your eyes than that you merely slake your own desires in his body.”

“I see that,” Skinner agreed, “and though your worry is misplaced, since I never had any intention to do otherwise, I accept your words of caution as being evidence of your love for Alexin rather than a reflection upon my character. So take your own advice and worship the beauty of *your* Faerie boy tonight, while I attend to mine.”

~~~

When Skinner entered the bedchamber, Alexin was sitting on the edge of his bed, his fingers playing nervously with his trimmed hair and his expression as filled with fear as longing.

“My Dinah had to cut almost twelve inches off its length,” Alexin whispered, his lips trembling with misery as he looked down at his shortened hair.

“I like it thus,” Skinner replied. “It looks thicker and healthier for reaching only to your waist. But if you choose to grow it longer once more, then I will like that too. Your hair is beautiful at any length, Alexin.”

Alexin smiled with relief, but his eyes remained wary and his fingers moved from their nervous twisting of his hair to instead play tremulously with the neckline of his bedgown, as though it was the removal of that garment which he truly dreaded.

“I have missed you so, Alexin,” Skinner said, moving slowly to Alexin’s side and pulling him upwards into his embrace. “I feared I would never hold you in my arms again.”

“You came for me,” Alexin mumbled into his chest. “I dreamed that you would, but I...I didn’t truly believe it would happen.”

“Yes, you did,” Skinner corrected, squeezing Alexin affectionately. “Rhianna has told me you did *everything* possible to keep yourself chaste for my return.”

“But...but I’m *not* chaste,” Alexin sobbed. “I let...let Ariana...”

“Hush, my love. You did not ‘let’ that evil woman touch you. What happened was beyond your control and it saved my life, remember? I would have died from my separation from you, had our bond not been severed,” Skinner assured him, deciding it would do more harm than good to tell Alexin he would probably have been successfully rescued if he *had* somehow resisted Ariana’s advances for just a few minutes longer.

“But...but she...she... Oh, Skinner, you will SO hate me because...because I’ve tricked you,” Alexin wailed.

“How have you ‘tricked’ me, beloved?”

“I...I let you think me still...still beautiful,” Alexin sobbed. “And so you gave up Behaana for me, not knowing that...that I am not beautiful at all. And now...now you will be angry with me and...and I cannot bear that you will leave me *again*.”

“I did not ‘give up’ Behaana,” Skinner countered, “because Behaana was never mine to ‘give up’. Behaana belongs to Roga. He but leant me his magic for a short while, so that I could come for you. I swore a solemn oath to Roga that I would sever my bond with Behaana before I even accepted the gift of Behaana’s magic.”

“But...but he is so beautiful.”

“Is he? I hadn’t truly noticed,” Skinner said staunchly, sending a mental apology to Behaana for the white lie. “I suppose he *is* exquisite if you like that kind of thing. But all my life I dreamed of meeting someone like *you*, Alexin. A dark haired, exotic beauty with lush curves and soft, delicate features. Not a white haired beauty with strong features and a thin muscular frame. Behaana doesn’t have the lovely softness to his flesh that delights me so in you, Alexin. When I place my hands around his waist, my hands find firmness, not the suppleness of your gentle curves. When my hands touched his buttocks, they found muscle, not lushness.”

Alexin had been listening to him with an almost rapturous expression as he’d denied any sense of attraction to Behaana but, with the mention of his buttocks, Alexin’s face crumpled into misery once more.

“My...my buttocks are...are no longer pleasing,” he choked. “They’re...they’re... Oh, I cannot bear this, Skinner. I cannot face the idea of being ugly to your eyes.”

“Ugly?” Skinner demanded incredulously. “Scars so honestly earned aren’t *ugly*, Alexin. They are the marks of your bravery. They are proof of your courage. They are something for you to wear with pride.”

“They are?” Alexin whimpered, his eyes flickering with hope.

“You could never be anything but beautiful to me, Alexin. But when I look upon your buttocks, I swear I will feel nothing but pride and love and adoration that *my* boy was injured so badly and yet retained the wit and courage, even while suffering such pain, to keep himself true to our love.”

“I did,” Alexin agreed, with a sniffle. “All I could think of was that, if you *did* come for me, I didn’t want you to look upon me with eyes of disgust because I had been used by others.”

“Oh, my beloved. Had *every* woman in this castle bedded you, it still would not have changed you in my eyes. It would merely have sealed *their* deaths for such abuse of you.”

“You...you say this but...but you haven’t *seen* yet, Skinner. You don’t yet know the extent to which my beauty has been flawed,” Alexin pointed out miserably.

“Then show me, Alexin,” Skinner said, his voice and expression gentle. “I know you’re worried, but please trust me. How can I prove to you that your fears are groundless, unless you give me the opportunity to do so?”

“I...I... I’m afraid,” Alexin sobbed.

Skinner swallowed heavily. If Ariana was still alive he would have taken great delight in tearing her limbs off one by one for the grief she’d caused by her cruelty. He fully understood Alexin’s fear. The boy had always known himself to be without flaw and hadn’t been raised to deal with scars or blemishes on his body. All of Alexin’s self-confidence resided in his knowledge that he was beautiful, and the fear that he was no longer beautiful was almost crippling him.

“Would it be easier if I turn my back as you undress?” he asked softly. “Perhaps it would be less distressing for you if you disrobe and lie face down on the bed, so that you don’t have to look at me.”

Alexin sniffled loudly but nodded his agreement. “But...but if you... if you don’t...don’t want me anymore when...when you see, please just...just leave,” he whispered. “Don’t...don’t make me look upon your...your disgust. Promise me?”

“I promise,” Skinner replied firmly, unafraid to make that promise because he knew that there was nothing that would ever cause him to either react with disgust or leave his beautiful, terrified love simply because of some ‘scars’.

He kissed Alexin’s forehead gently, gave him one last comforting hug, and then turned so that his back was to the boy.

It seemed to take Alexin forever to find the courage to remove his bedgown and lay himself down upon the bed and, all the time he was doing so, Skinner found himself struggling against tears himself as he imagined the fear and confusion within Alexin’s mind.

But, eventually, he heard a soft, fearful whimper of “I’m ready.”

And he turned.

The tears he’d been trying to control flooded freely down his cheeks as he saw the brutal evidence of Ariana’s cruelty. Alexin’s buttocks were welted with numerous raised scars, from just below the small of his back to the tops of his thighs. None of the welts were ugly in themselves. The birch which had cut Alexin’s flesh had been so fine that the scars were thin and straight, rather than ragged, and the application of ointment so soon after the wounds had been inflicted had prevented infection. So the scars were only ‘ugly’ in that they screamed of the pain Alexin had suffered. In themselves, they were faint and almost ‘neat’. More like strange raised tattoos than injuries.

“Oh, Alexin. You foolish boy. You are still perfectly beautiful,” Skinner breathed. “Your scars are already fading into silver and do nothing to detract from the exquisite shape and form of your buttocks. They make me cry, but only because I know the pain you suffered as they were inflicted. In truth, the marks are *not* unsightly.”

Alexin gave a gulping sob of relief and risked peering cautiously over his shoulder. “They’re not?”

“I promise you that they are not,” Skinner agreed. He would have said as much even if the scars *had* been as terrible as he’d feared they might be, but they honestly weren’t half as bad as he’d been expecting from Rhianna’s description of the beating.

“Then...then you still want me?”

“There was never any question of that,” Skinner chuckled. “But at least you now *know* that to be the truth.”

“I...I was afraid,” Alexin whispered. “My Dinah said they were not so bad as I feared, but...but all I could see was that I was no longer perfect. And...and I thought that even if you didn’t find them ugly, they’d still be a reminder to you every time you mounted me that I had been...been taken by another.”

“They will be,” Skinner admitted. “But only in that they will remind me how fortunate I am that I managed to reclaim you, Alexin. As much as your scars make you fear my rejection, they make *me* fear yours. For it was my fault that you were captured and so misused. It was my duty to protect you and I failed you.”

“It wasn’t *your* fault,” Alexin retorted, a little angrily. “It was my *mother’s* fault. She was the one who sent those guards in pursuit of us. And you came to rescue me, against all odds, and you still want me even though I no longer have my magic. Though...though I suppose you don’t even need it anymore anyway, since you have your own.”

Skinner opened his mouth to tell Alexin that the magic between them *wasn’t* necessarily lost forever, but then he changed his mind and swallowed the words unspoken. If they lay together and *didn’t* rekindle the magic, it wouldn’t matter to him, but Skinner sensed that Alexin would see the inability to ‘gift’ his magic as another flaw in himself. Better to let things progress as they would, until Alexin regained his self-confidence.

“Do they hurt?” Skinner asked softly, seating himself on the bed and bending his head down to place a feather light kiss on one of the scars.

Alexin shivered and whimpered slightly. “No,” he whispered. “Not any longer.”

“They don’t?” Skinner asked, and then followed the line of the scar with a series of tiny kisses along the length of the raised welt.

Alexin shuddered, gasped for breath and choked, “No. They...they don’t.”

“No?” Skinner said, sounding deliberately disappointed. “Then you don’t need me to kiss them *all* better?”

Alexin turned his head enough to look over his shoulder and met Skinner’s gaze with a puzzled look. “Kiss them better?”

Skinner shrugged slightly. “It’s a human tradition. If someone you love is hurt, you kiss their wounds better. So if these scars *did* still hurt you, I’d have to kiss each and every one of them until your pain eased. Like this,” he said, and peppered a line of kisses against a different scar until Alexin’s buttocks were trembling with excitement.

“Ohhh,” Alexin gasped rapturously.

“Are you *sure* they don’t pain you, beloved?” Skinner asked sweetly.

“Well...well, now you men...mention it. Some of them do...do ache a *little*,” Alexin said.

“Which ones?” Skinner asked. “This one?” He leaned over to Alexin’s other buttock and licked lightly at a welt. “Or this one?” he moved lower and laved his tongue lightly at a faint mark just above Alexin’s thigh.

“All of them,” Alexin insisted, his eyes slightly wild. “They *all* ache. They ache LOTS.”

Skinner chuckled deep in his throat and began a slow mapping of Alexin’s buttocks with his lips. He kissed every single welt, and all the skin between the welts, and then the skin above and below the welts, while Alexin writhed and purred in ecstasy.

Then, very carefully, he grasped each of the lush globes in his hands and parted them so that his tongue could dip into the fallow between them.

“OHHHHHH!” Alexin groaned, kicking his feet slightly as Skinner licked and kissed a trail from the base of his spine to his sac and then back again.

And when Skinner began to tease at the darker skin that guarded his entrance, Alexin gave a gasping sob and said, “It definitely hurts THERE.”

Skinner paused long enough to sweetly say, “But I don’t see a scar *there*, my love. Are you *sure* it hurts you there?”

“Oh, yes. Yes. Definitely yes,” Alexin burbled.

“Then perhaps the scar is deeper than I can see with my eyes,” Skinner said. “I’ll have to kiss you deeper.”

He flicked his tongue against Alexin’s entrance until the sensitive skin began to quiver with excitement, and then he pushed his tongue forwards so that it slipped inside of Alexin’s body. Alexin’s moan of pleasure barely drowned Skinner’s own groan as his tongue was flooded with Alexin’s honey sweet taste.

“I think...think the hurt is even deeper than that,” Alexin urged, raising his hips and opening his thighs wider to encourage Skinner to thrust deeper inside him.

Skinner chuckled, which sent a vibration through his tongue that caused Alexin to gasp with pleasure. He continued his exploration of Alexin’s passage for several minutes, until the boy’s sobs became less delighted than frustrated.

“Please,” Alexin gasped. “Please, Skinner.”

Then he wailed with disappointment when Skinner abandoned his tonguing and said, “I don’t think I can reach the place that pains you, my love. My tongue doesn’t seem to be long enough.”

“Please,” Alexin begged. “Please, Skinner. I...I liked this game, but...but now I just want...want... oh, please, just mount me *properly*.”

“So you think my member might be long enough to reach the place?” Skinner asked. “I don’t know. Perhaps I should...”

“PLEASE,” Alexin howled. “Stop playing with me.”

Even if Skinner had wanted to tease Alexin a while longer, he found Alexin’s desperation so arousing that his already eager member seemed to move of its own volition between Alexin’s open legs.

“I love you,” he said, as he quickly oiled himself and then positioned the head of his shaft at Alexin’s glistening hole. “Never doubt that again, Alexin. Never doubt *me* again.”

And as he slipped inside Alexin’s hot, welcoming flesh, he felt as though he were coming home.

He began to slide within Alexin with slow, careful strokes. Then, aware that the boy’s buttocks, while almost healed, would ache if he pressed down on them, he encouraged Alexin to raise his hips and take his weight onto his hands and knees. In that position Skinner could thrust deeper without worrying about causing Alexin pain, though he was still careful to keep his motion slow and controlled.

“Oh,” Alexin sobbed happily, rocking as Skinner moved inside him. “Oh, oh, OH!”

Skinner chuckled slightly, used to Alexin being reduced to monosyllables during their mating.

“A littler harder?” he asked cautiously.

“Um,” Alexin groaned enthusiastically.

“You feel so wonderful,” Skinner gasped, as he increased his pace. “So soft and welcoming.”

“OH,” Alexin agreed, his buttocks quivering with excitement and his breath coming in hard, desperate pants.

Knowing he wouldn’t last much longer himself, Skinner reached around Alexin’s waist and took hold of the boy’s member. He slid his fingers lovingly over the ridges of the hard flesh and used his thumb to tease the tiny nub of flesh at its root until Alexin was bucking and gasping beneath him with ecstasy.

“I love you, Alexin,” he choked, almost overcome by the joy of being reunited with his beloved again in such an intimate way. “I will never *ever* allow us to be parted again. I swear this to you on my life.”

“If...if I...I... asked you... to...to leave here with me,” Alexin gasped, “and for...forget being ‘The One’, would...would you do it?”

“I care nothing about the magic or being ‘The One’ or anyone else in this whole realm. You’re everything, Alexin. And without you, none of the rest means a damn to me. If you want me to yourself then I’m yours, and the whole damned realm can take care of itself,” Skinner replied firmly.

“OH,” Alexin gasped, though Skinner wasn’t sure whether he was responding to the promise or simply the stimulation to his member.

“I love you,” Skinner repeated, almost desperately. “I wish you knew just how much I *do* love you.”

Alexin abruptly arched beneath him, throwing his head back and warbling with pleasure as the movement drove him more firmly onto Skinner’s member.

Alexin’s sudden movement drove Skinner over the edge and he pumped his seed deep inside his lover’s depths. A moment later, Alexin joined him in ecstasy, with a howl of completion as his own member erupted its seed.

Skinner collapsed heavily on Alexin’s back, his weight knocking the boy flat down upon the bed once more. But after a few hurriedly gulped breaths, he disengaged himself and lifted enough to raise his weight off Alexin so he could roll him over onto his back and kiss him.

Tears were streaming down Alexin’s face, but he was smiling broadly and his eyes were burning luminously with pleasure.

Instinctively, Skinner automatically lapped at the tears, delighting in their honey sweet taste and trembling as they stirred the magic deep inside him to rumble with satisfaction.

Then his eyes widened with stunned shock as his mind finally caught up with what his body was telling him.

“I can taste your magic, Alexin. It’s come back. It’s come BACK!”

Alexin just blinked at him in astonishment.

“Can’t you feel it, beloved?” Skinner demanded excitedly. “Can’t you feel the magic binding us together once more?”

“I can,” Alexin said, his eyes widening with wonderment. “I CAN.”

Tears of happiness began to roll down Skinner’s cheeks, pouring onto Alexin’s stunned face, and when one of them dripped onto Alexin’s mouth, he automatically licked at it, and his already astounded expression changed to one of bewildered joy. “You taste *sweet*, Skinner. You taste *delicious*.”

“I do?” Skinner asked, somewhat selfishly wondering whether his seed was *also* going to taste ‘delicious’ to his lover now.

Though, looking at Alexin’s sudden grin he was pretty certain he was going to find out soon enough.

“It’s just like the legend of Agnala and Enthor,” Alexin gasped. “She *too* loved Enthor enough that their bond came back even though he’d been bespoiled by another. That’s why, Skinner. Because you love me. Because you *really* love me.”

“Because we love each *other*,” he said firmly.

“But...but it feels different this time,” Alexin said, a little worriedly.

“Different how?”

“I feel all tingly,” Alexin replied. “And not tingly all over like when I want you to mount me, but tingly *inside*.”

“Of course,” Skinner gasped, his mouth stretching into a smile as understanding came to him. “Because this time I haven’t just taken *your* magic. You’ve taken *mine*.”

Alexin’s eyes widened with astonishment. “Your magic? I can use *your* magic now?”

“I believe so,” Skinner agreed. “And considering the power of my magic, I think you’re going to have to be very careful what you wish for, Alexin.”

A little of his excitement faded as he tried to imagine the consequences of someone as childlike and irresponsible as Alexin wielding so much power. It was, possibly, a recipe for disaster.

“What I wish for?” Alexin repeated, looking confused.

“If you really have access to my magic, you have the ability to just think a thing and it will be so,” Skinner explained urgently. “And if you don’t consider the consequences of your wishes, they could be disastrous.”

“Oh,” Alexin said.

“So I want you to promise me not to...”

“LOOK!” Alexin squealed. “It works. It really WORKS!”

Skinner took a deep breath, counted to ten, decided it could have been worse and patted Alexin on the hand. “Yes, beloved. It worked. Now let’s discuss consequences.”

“Consequences?”

“Well, this hasn’t all just appeared out of thin air, Alexin. It came from *somewhere*. Tomorrow morning there’s going to be a lot of broken-hearted boys if you don’t return it.”

“Oh,” Alexin said, his lower lip quivering miserably. “Then I can’t keep it?”

Skinner chuckled softly. “Quite apart from anything else, I doubt we can even get out of this room if you don’t give *most* of it back.”

Alexin stared around the bedchamber which was filled, floor to ceiling, with every imaginable piece of jewelry that a boy could possibly dream of wanting.

“Well,” he sighed. “I suppose I can’t wear them *all*,” he admitted sadly.

“Wish it all back where it came from and I promise that I will buy you *any* jewelry you want, Alexin.”

Alexin pouted softly but then closed his eyes briefly and the jewelry disappeared once more. “This magic is no fun after all,” he declared petulantly. “If I’m not allowed to even get myself a *few* nice things with it, what’s the point of having it at all?”

“Probably very little,” Skinner said. “Magic *has* to be used responsibly, Alexin, so I don’t think it’s really something you want to bother with, is it?”

“No,” Alexin agreed. “I think I’m going to let *you* do all the stupid, boring magic stuff from now on.”

Skinner sighed with relief. “I think that’s wise,” he agreed solemnly.

Alexin nodded his agreement, while furtively ‘wishing’ for just one or two pretty necklaces to materialize inside the treasure chest he’d filled with his wedding gifts. Naturally, despite the wedding not going ahead, Alexin had claimed all his gifts anyway. He was sure Skinner wouldn’t notice the additions since Skinner didn’t know what he *did* already have in his chest.

“What are you smiling about, beloved?” Skinner asked.

“I’m just happy,” Alexin responded, with an innocent flutter of his eyelashes.

“Then that makes *me* happy,” Skinner chuckled.

Alexin was so pleased to have made Skinner happy that he decided to celebrate by wishing for a nice new pair of earrings, too.

~~~

The next morning, Skinner, Alexin, most of the Faerie males and two dozen of Rhianna’s females and their husbands, rode out of the castle to head south.

Behaana and Roga didn’t accompany them.

“I can leave the spelling of the females to you, Skinner,” Behaana said. “My duty now is to my people who still remain in the City of Ice. Rhianna has a herd of over a hundred horses and she’s agreed that I might use them to start bringing the other males to the Southern Territories while her guards build accommodations for them here. It’s going to take a lot of journeys to bring everyone down from the north. A task of several months. The sooner I begin the process, the better.”

“But I thought we had agreed that it made most sense geographically to use Sylvana’s castle as the seat of power,” Skinner argued. “You said yourself that it was most logical for the Queen of all the Faerie to take residence there.”

“I did,” Behaana agreed, with a smirk. “But I didn’t say that Queen would be *me*, did I?”

“What?”

“You’re ‘The One’, Skinner. It’s your throne, not mine, and to be honest you’re welcome to it. Roga and I are going to do our duty by the other males, by bringing them home, and then we’re going to take some time to ourselves. We’ve been together for a thousand years and in all that time I’ve spent too little time actually *being* with him. I’ve always been the Ice Queen, responsible for so many other people that I had no time for my beloved. Well, no more. Roga deserves my full attention for a while.”

“But I can’t be a *Queen*,” Skinner argued.

“If it’s the term itself that offends you, call yourself Cyning. Isn’t that how humans call their leaders?”

“Yes,” Skinner agreed, since ‘Cyning’ was the Faerie equivalent of a great tribal chieftain. “But I don’t want to be Cyning of the Faerie. I too just want to settle peaceably and spend time with Alexin.”

“Let me be blunt, Skinner. You would go insane within a month trapped in a small house with only Alexin’s company to keep you entertained. He *is* totally adorable. But day in and day out, I don’t think your nerves would stand it if you didn’t have other things to occupy your mind than his chatter. Alexin will be perfectly happy to spend his days with Byers and Benwyn, as long as you spend the nights in his bed. And I think *you* will be happier, too.”

“I see the logic of that,” Skinner agreed wryly. “But I honestly don’t *want* to rule.”

“Which is probably the main reason you’ll be good at it,” Behaana laughed. “People who *want* to rule rarely make good leaders. And besides, you have the magic. If the Gods didn’t intend you to take responsibility, why would they have gifted you with such power?”

Skinner sighed. “Perhaps you are right, but I will have to discuss this with Alexin. It is his decision as much as mine. I would not have him feel neglected by me.”

Alexin however was pretty ecstatic at the idea, when Skinner told him he was considering becoming the Cyning of the Faerie. “That’s even better than being the consort of a normal queen, isn’t it?” he crowed. “I bet we’ll have lots of feasts and people will visit all the time and bring me lots of gifts just because I’m your mate.”

Skinner chuckled fondly at Alexin’s greedy excitement. “But I’ll spend much of my days busy with my advisors, rather than with you,” he pointed out.

“But you wouldn’t be with me most of the time anyway,” Alexin replied, looking totally confused.

“I wouldn’t?” Skinner asked, somewhat confused himself.

“You have NO idea how much time it takes to be as beautiful as me, do you?” Alexin demanded, a little petulantly. “Every day I have to have my bath, and my massage, and my nails done, and my hair groomed, and fittings for new gowns for all the feasts we’re going to be having. And then I have to have my late afternoons in the rosegarden to keep a healthy blush in my cheeks. It’s hard work to be a boy, Skinner. I don’t have time to do all that necessary effort *and* keep you entertained all day. So you’ll just have to do ‘womanly’ things to keep yourself occupied while I’m busy,” he said primly.

“I see,” Skinner said, struggling to keep a straight face.

Alexin nodded solemnly, but then was distracted as Benwyn walked past.

“Benwyn,” he cried out excitedly. “Guess what?”

“What?” Benwyn said.

“Skinner’s going to be King of the Faerie.”

“Cyning,” Skinner corrected gently.

Alexin sniffed at him haughtily. “That’s what I *said*. Cyning.”

Yet, somehow, over the next few weeks, as they rode from queendom to queendom to spell the females and place Rhianna’s women and Behaana’s males in governorship over each realm, and Alexin so excitedly told everyone that he was to be the consort to the ‘Cyning’ that he again and again mispronounced the word as ‘King’, the name ‘King of the Faerie’ passed into common usage and became Skinner’s permanent and official title.

~~~

By the time they arrived at Sylvana’s castle, over a month had passed since Skinner had imprisoned the females within the barracks there.

The northern males had been surprisingly successful in turning the castle into some semblance of organization, despite the fact that over half the males were still incapable of making even the smallest decision for themselves.

Yet the pervading *fear* had gone. Even the most traumatized of the males were beginning to respond to kind touches with gentle confusion rather than flinching terror.

There had, Skinner was informed, been no sound from the sealed dungeon in well over a week.

Alexin didn’t ask what had happened to his mother, so Skinner didn’t tell him. All he said was that Sylvana was ‘gone’ and although Alexin shed a few tears – since he *had* adored his mother and remembered those feelings despite her terrible betrayal of him – he dropped the subject rapidly and never raised it again.

He did seem relieved to hear that Marita had been spared, along with all the other high-caste girl children, but shook his head firmly when Skinner tentatively offered to let her move back into the royal apartments of the castle if Alexin so wished. Sniffling a little, Alexin explained that his sister had never ‘liked’ him and would probably prefer to remain with the other females.

What *really* made Alexin cry, however, was when he visited his rosegarden.

Without the female magic to control the weather – for during the summer rain rarely fell naturally within that queendom – and without any gardeners to tend the flowers, more than half of Alexin’s rosebushes had died, the remainder were little more than badly withered husks and even the waterfall had dried up into nothing more than a muddy pond.

If it seemed strange to Skinner that the boy shed more tears over his flowers than over his mother, he was kind enough not to say so.

“It was so beautiful here once,” Alexin sobbed. “I wanted SO to come here again, but it’s broken and ruined and...and... ugly. I used to...to lie here by the waterfall and dream of the ocean, and now...now I can’t even dream, Skinner. It’s all gone.”

Skinner pulled Alexin into a comforting hug.

“I promised you once that I’d take you to the ocean, Alexin. I haven’t forgotten. As soon as things are settled here, we’ll take a trip together. We’ll visit Aisa Cove to make sure that all is well there.”

“On a real ship?”

“On a real ship,” Skinner promised.

“I’d like that,” Alexin whispered, trying to smile.

“But in the meantime,” Skinner said, closing his eyes and *wishing* with all his might.

“OOOOOHHH!!” Alexin squealed, clapping his hands with glee.

Skinner opened his eyes and smiled.

The withered bushes were in full bloom, the air was filled with the scent of roses and the waterfall was burbling once more with sparkling, clear water.

“I love you,” Alexin said, his eyes brimming with tears of happiness.

“And I *adore* you, my beloved,” Skinner answered. “Sometimes the responsibility of being the ‘King’ wears upon me. Sometimes the power I hold is more than I can easily bear. Sometimes the thought of trying to change the whole Faerie society is completely daunting to me. But then I find the magic gives me the ability to put a smile upon your face, and I find that sight so uplifting that all my fears fade into insignificance. The Gods gave me the magic so I could make *you* happy, Alexin. It isn’t the magic I hold that is changing the world. The changes are but a side effect of my love for you. ”

~~~

“I’m not sure about this,” Frohike said, a couple of days later. “Almost 25 years have passed in the human world. Even if he’s still alive, he’s changed beyond all recognition. Won’t it hurt Alexin more to see that change than to never see him again?”

“I know what I’m doing,” Skinner said with confidence. “And as soon as you return I intend to seal all the ward-gates. The spell I’ve cast upon the females protects only *Faerie* males and I never intend for the women to resume their cruel sport of hunting humans. Perhaps when time enough has passed for humans to forget the crimes committed against them by the Faerie and our society has evolved enough that cruelty has hopefully been forgotten, I may reopen the gates. But for now, at least, I think it best that the Faerie pass into human myth and legend.”

“I know what you’re going to try, Skinner,” Frohike said. “And I don’t know that it’s wise to use such power only to put a smile on a boy’s face. Even if that boy is Alexin.”

“It’s more than that, Frohike,” Skinner replied, with a serious look. “Have you not considered Langly? He too is aging. If I can prove to myself that this can be done, then surely you can see the possibilities for Langly?”

Frohike nodded, his eyes abruptly filling with tears. “Then I pray for your success.”

“The sooner you go to Crystal City, the sooner we’ll know,” Skinner replied.

Frohike nodded and left the room.

It was perhaps 20 minutes later when he returned, with Langly at his side and a look of exhaustion on both their faces.

“I did not expect the journey to take you so long,” Skinner admitted. “You both look worn out.”

“*You* try dragging a fat, lazy 28 year old horse on a thirty mile journey through a rock strewn desert. He went lame every two miles or so, or at least *pretended* to. And we could hardly pick him up and carry him, could we?” Frohike sniffed.

“Well, I admit I tried,” Langly laughed, “but levitation of half a ton of horse proved to be beyond my abilities.”

“Other than old and fat, is he well?” Skinner asked urgently.

“I believe his heart is sound, but he looks very bedraggled. Instead of being tended all these years, he was merely turned out to pasture. Since the valley at Crystal City is so lush he’s greatly overweight and his mane and tail are just a mass of burrs and tangles.”

“Poor Dinah,” Skinner chuckled. “I imagine he is most distressed to have lost his beauty. Let us see if we can restore it for him.”

“Are you *sure* the earth magic can do this?” Langly asked, as he and Frohike led Skinner to where they had secreted the horse.

“Not sure,” Skinner admitted, “but pretty confident. If I can restore withered roses to full bloom, then the same principle should work on flesh and bone.”

A little of his confidence faded when he *did* see the horse. Although Dinah was fat from too much grass and too little exercise, his neck was peculiarly thin, his cheeks were so sunken that his eyes were almost cavernous, his spine had dipped so that his posture was bowed and misshapen, and his knees were badly swollen with arthritis.

“Age is so cruel, is it not?” Skinner murmured.

“Indeed,” Frohike agreed. “For it steals beauty and replaces it with but a ghost of past glory.”

“Well,” Skinner said firmly. “As the Faerie King I henceforth decree that *no* cruelty will ever exist in my realm. Not even the natural cruelty of old age.”

He closed his eyes and visualized Dinah as he’d been on that day in the woods when Alexin had plaited his mane and woven flowers into his silvery locks. He pictured Dinah’s neck as being arched with muscular pride once more. He imagined the fat belly disappearing and returning to the sleek lines of youth. He saw the tangled, torn tail flowing lushly once more down straight, unswollen legs. He pictured Dinah as Alexin had last seen him, a vision of equine beauty, and he breathed a prayer and uncoiled his magic.

Frohike and Langly’s loud exclamations warned him, even before he opened his eyes, but it still almost brought Skinner to his knees when he dared to look at Dinah and saw that the horse had been fully restored to his former glory.

“Old age is hereby banished from the Faerie land,” Skinner murmured, though he was shaking his head in amazement that he had truly managed to reverse 25 years of the horse’s life as though they had never happened.

Frohike, meanwhile, was hugging his lover and jumping up and down with glee. “You know what this means, don’t you? You won’t die, Langly. You won’t grow old and die and leave me alone.”

Skinner smiled softly at the two men, then called mentally for Alexin to join them.

Alexin did so within minutes, grumbling loudly, wrapped only in a bathrobe, with his hair wet and dripping down his back and Byers desperately trying to towel it dry and keep it from tangling as Alexin walked.

“You promised you wouldn’t use that compulsion thing on me,” he sulked. “I was in my *bath*. If my Dinah hadn’t run after me, I would have walked here *naked*.”

“I’m sorry,” Skinner said, trying not to laugh. He had found out, by accident, a couple of weeks earlier that if he wasn’t careful with his mental *wishes* to see Alexin, the boy was magically compelled to come running immediately to his side whether Alexin wanted to come or not. “I was so excited that I forgot to make it a polite request rather than a wish. Forgive me, my love.”

“Well, what’s so damned exciting?” Alexin pouted. “I’m wet and I’m cold and I’m...”

His voice trailed off as he finally looked *beyond* the subject of his ire and saw his beloved silver-grey horse.

“DINAH!” he screamed, racing across the courtyard so fast that his hair sprayed water all over Skinner, Langly and Frohike as he flew past them. “Dinah, Dinah, Dinah,” Alexin chanted, throwing his arms around the horse’s neck and burying his face into its mane. “I thought you were dead, Dinah,” he sobbed. “I...I... thought you were dead!”

“Dinah?” Byers asked, blinking in confusion and clearly uncertain whether to be insulted or not. “He called his horse Dinah, too?”

Skinner chuckled and threw his arm over the Faerie’s shoulders. “Don’t worry about it. He adores *both* his Dinahs, and Alexin has far more than enough love to go around.”

Then he narrowed his eyes as Alexin started peppering Dinah’s soft muzzle with ecstatic kisses. “But do me a favor, Byers? Make sure he brushes his teeth before he comes to bed.”

~~~

And, having hopefully wrapped up all the loose ends of this little Faerie Story, all that remains to be said is that...

They all lived happily ever after.

 

The End.