So, this is how a Fomorian king lived, she mused. Like the rest of his people. Save for a few differences though, she noted. Where the homes she had seen earlier had a thin layer of concrete for flooring, he had what looked to be an earthy brick like tile. Not as fancy or too expensive but definitely a step up. There was an opened MacBook on a small desk pushed up against the same wall as the door they stood in front of, with papers strewn around it. Opposite of that was a comfy looking couch with one throw pillow smashed into one corner, as if someone, most likely Fallon, had been sleeping on it. The couch faced a small television that sat atop a squat entertainment cabinet butted up against the desk. At the end of the couch, Jess could see the corner of a bed with a black comforter hanging down to droop onto a worn woven rug. Apparently, he wasn't a make your bed when waking up sort of guy, she mused to herself. It was most definitely not the "Kings Quarters" she would have expected from other rulers she'd seen on television and read about in books. Gold plated everything, immaculately clean from the men and women who served his every whim. Though it was what she would have expected from Fallon. He neither held himself to the average sovereign's standards, nor did he think himself more important than the men and women who followed him.
There were no maids or man servants coming and going in this room, she noted as she moved further into the living area. Noting a paper cup –-like the one she currently held— on the tiny coffee table in front of the couch, a shirt that hung on the knob of the bedroom door and a pair of black shit-kicker boots—the backups to the pair he already wore, she assumed, held the bedroom door propped open.
Seeing him pick up the cup and rush to snag the shirt, Jess bit her lip to kept a giggle from escaping from his obvious distress at having a girl in his room. "Fallon, it's fine," she reassured him. "You don't live like a pig, I promise." Jess wasn't sure she concealed her laughter in her voice enough. "It's just lived in. You should see my sister's room."
Dropping the cup in the metal waste bin under the desk, he then balled the shirt and tossed it aimlessly into the bedroom, before saying, "I have."
Jess' laughter died at that. "What?"
"I have seen your sister's room," he explained. Looking around the room, he puffed out a breath of air, accepting that it was the best it was going to get, before turning to look at her. "And yours, when we were looking for your things."
"Oh, right." Jess had forgotten they had gone to her apartment to pack a bag of her things before coming after her. The idea of him going through her clothes, particularly her underwear drawer, made her cheeks flame.
Lips quirking, Fallon enjoyed her discomfort for a moment. "I asked Roshea to gather your things. No male would dare touch a female's personal affects without facing their wrath and the wrath of their mates." His eyes danced with his words.
"Oh, thank god," Jess muttered.
Fallon started to stare at her where she stood in the center of his living room. Taking a shaky sip of her coffee, she hoped it would help break the awkward moment.
"Mmm, this is good," she said, taking another long sip, not caring that she felt the mild burn all the way down to her belly. She savored the sweet creamy flavor on her tongue before taking one more hearty sip.
His chuckle broke her from her caffeine bliss. "Lilliann makes delicious coffee and teas. Even cocoa if you're in the mood," he said proudly.
Jess only nodded in agreement.
"Okay," she said, breaking away from her love affair with the paper cup. "Let's get started."
"Ah," Fallon said, slapping his hands on the side of his thighs, "Yes, right. Take a seat if you'd like."
"There aren't any picture books on this are there?" She asked, making her way to the couch.
"No, I'm afraid not," Fallon said, watching as her shoulders slouched a little in disappointment. "Most of our history, and the Seelie's, is mostly verbally passed down."
"Well, a girl can dream," she sighed as she sat in the same corner as the mistreated pillow. A wave of Fallon's scent hit her nose and she hoped it wasn't obvious when she breathed it in slowly.
Fallon turned to the desk first and grabbed the notepad and pen lying next to the computer. Flipping to a clean page, he set it down on the coffee table before sitting at the other side of the couch.
"Start from the beginning, shall we?" Fallon asked, making a note on the lined paper.
"You're going to take notes for me?" Jess couldn't help but think that was a tiny bit adorable, if not intimating. Whatever he was about to tell her, required note taking. There was a reason Alyss was the only one with the bachelor's degree. Jess and school never quite got along. Once she completed her Associates in business, she bid school farewell for good.
"For your reference, of course, but also for your sister." When he finished, and looked up, he appeared every bit the scholar... with wings that flexed and bent at the bottom where they lay against the cushion.
"The final battle between the humans and Tuatha De —"
"Who were the Tuatha De again?" Jess interrupted already.
"They are the children of the Goddess Danu, the Seelie. There were no Unseelie then. Before the final battle, several Seelie had bred and had children with other fae creatures, trolls, goblins, silkies, sprites. When the final battle was lost, the Seelie king wanted to keep the blood lines as pure as possible amongst his people. He banished those of mixed, or tainted, blood, later becoming the Unseelie. They later made their own court system, evoking a queen." He bent forward from time to time to jot down notes.
"With me so far?" He asked, seeing her blank expression when he looked up.
"Go on," she said, leaning back into the couch, sipping more coffee.
"The Fomorians, that's us," he smiled widely, "were recruited to keep the peace between the Seelie and Uneelie. Making sure the devious half-bloods didn't seek revenge or harm those of Seelie blood. We had already earned peace by fighting beside them against man. It was when they learned of our biggest weakness that they enslaved us."
"Which was what?" she asked, leaning forward again, holding the warm drink between both hands. The chill from the flight back from…wheverever the hell it was they went, had long disappeared but the heat soaking through the paper cup was comforting. Something about holding a warm cup of something seemed to soothe her. She wasn’t a tea person, but she’d sip it if it meant she could hold the heated mug it was in. The stress of the last two nights seemed to ease and melt away as her fingers absorbed the warmth.
"The bond we have with our mates." He met her eyes with his own, watching her process and finally grasp what he was trying to tell her. Rather than shrink away from the idea, she seemed to hang onto his every word.
"The males are physically drawn to their mates. We have no... control over the need to protect." He busied himself with more note taking. "They provoke us by touching the females to see if a male reacts. And when one does react, they take the female to Seelie court to do slave work. They all live like rich kings when they take money from us, reminding us always that we are all dependent upon them."
"Some are unfortunate to draw the king's attention and are forced to his bed. In which case, some of those choose to end their life rather than be subjected to his abuse and face their mates after. If they ever are ever reunited." He paused, seeing she needed a moment.
"That's horrible," Jess choked out, tears burning the back of her throat. "And this has been going on for three millennia?"
He nodded, saying, “My grandfather was king of the Fomorians at the time," Fallon answered.
"Your grandfather," she copied back a little slowly. "How long do Fomorians live?"
Fallon shrugged before answering, "A couple thousand years or so."
"Oh," Jess whispered sarcastically with a dazed stare in space. "Is that all?"
He smiled a little before moving on. “All sidhe, Seelie and Unseelie folk, thrive to be near their own, near their true leader, a sort of dignitary. One who not only has the blood line to rule their people
, but the respect of the people as well. Though they don't like the current king, he is their direct link to the Goddess Danu." He searched for a better explanation, one she could understand.
Her frown told him she didn't quite understand. "Think of the king or queen as one who communicates with their Goddess Danu. Like a prophet would with the human’s god." There, he saw comprehension dawning her expression. "To be denied access to this connection is draining and depressing. Some even fade from this plane from lack of contact."
"They're dying, aren't they?" She asked quietly.
"Yes, they are," Fallon added a note to an already full page.
"And your people..." Jess moved to lean over the table, peering at him. "I don't see many children either. I guess it would be hard to make babies when you're separated all the time. And the ones the king keeps as slaves."
"The males reward for completing a task given by the Seelie council, is often time with their mates. Children are not impossible, just not ideal." Fallon's expression was fierce as he spoke that last part.
Jess nodded in understanding. "Why add children to such an awful situation."
Fallon was quiet for a second before he abruptly set down the pen and stood up, completed notes in hand.
The impressiveness of him had her jerking back a little even as he moved around the coffee table to walk to the computer and began shuffling papers into piles.
"Ok, recap," Jess turned her body to watch him as she spoke. "The Fomorians are basically enslaved and the Unseelie are dying without contact with my tyrant of a grandfather. How am I doing?"
"Well, so far." Fallon leaned back against the desk chair and crossed his arms as she went on.
"Question. In order for me to take the crown, my grandfather, currently on said throne, would have to.... die first, right?" She started to fidget with the ring on her right ring fingers. It was her mother’s engagement ring. It was elegantly simple. A single solitaire 1 karat diamond centered between two smaller quarter karat diamonds on either side set on a white gold band.
"Yes, Jessandra. Or —"
"Or? There's an or?"
"The only reason your grandfather is the king is because the Goddess Danu chooses to speak through him. If she were to choose to cut that connection and begin to speak to another," he gestured to her. "Yourself, for instance, that person would obtain the throne by default. It's all about power first to the Seelie, perfection second."
"Alright, so how do I apply for the position of fairy prophet with this Danu lady?" Jess stood, rubbing her hands together in anticipation.
"It doesn't work that way, Jessandra," he chided while unable to contain his smile. He loved her eagerness and naïveté. It was refreshing."And I am not Seelie. I wouldn't be able to truly answer that question."
"Damn," she grumbled. Crestfallen, she slouched back down to perch on the arm of the couch.
His chuckle was short but it made her smile a little too. Silence went on for a moment before she spoke again.
"Is that it? History lesson over?" She drained the last drops of her coffee before standing to toss it in the waste basket.
"For the most part, yes, history lesson over," Fallon pushed away from his propped stance on the desk chair as she turned from the trash, coming to stand just a few inches apart from him.
"Now, I need for you to explain your skin art to me," she asked with a no nonsense tone, crossing her arms under her breasts.
From the look on his startled eyes and how they pinned her in place, she could tell she’d obviously ambushed him with the question, she gave him points for a quick recovery, though. "The mate markings." Though his sigh was shaky, he looked her in the eyes. "The male will gain them upon meeting his female mate. Only one becomes permanent, but only after they first...consummate. The female gains one on the back of the neck, as well." She thought on that. She imagined the markings made it difficult to hide couples from the Seelie if there was an obvious stamp that gave them away.
"Why just the neck?" Jess inquired.
"It's – uh," he cleared his throat, breaking eye contact for a moment. "It's serves a very intimate and ancient purpose." It seemed that was as far as he wanted to go on the subject.
She was slightly shocked to see his cheeks flush a little. "Yeah?" Teasing may not be nice, but watching him squirm was just too much fun. "Do tell."
Losing his courage, he dropped his gaze again and took a small step back. She advanced on him, taking a step forward.
"It's not something for polite conversation, Jessandra." Though he tried to sound contrite, he faltered as she kept walking, crowding him.
"Seeing as how you're telling me I might have one myself, I'm interested to know why Mr. Fomorian King."
His eyes snapped back up to hers again.
"Think I forgot? What does mo rí mean? That's what they call you right?" She was relentless in making him uncomfortable.
"Loosely translated it means leader, or king." He started to calm a bit now that the markings had been put on a shelf for the moment.
"Hm. It sounds pretty when they say it," referring to his people.
"It's not a term used lightly. Mo rí is something earned. Not just a ruler of the people but a leader with loyal followers. An honor of sorts, you might say," he added shyly, though his shoulders notched up a bit in pride.
Her heart skipped a little.
"And these markings, what do they mean?" She drawled, not forgetting the original question and edged closer.
"Jessandra, please. You don't understand." He stammered.
"You're right, I don't. Explain it to me."
"I don't want to scare you." His wings were drawn up tightly against his back. Jess wondered if that indicated he was uncomfortable or just tense. "Our people are more... primitive than you're accustomed to." The wall brushed those wonderful wings now, stopping his subconscious retreat to her advances.
"You don't say?" She whispered. "I think I figured that part out on my own, thanks." Eying him for a second, she used another tactic. "Fine." Putting her hands up in surrender, she turned towards the door. "I’ll go ask Kaer."
Before her hand touched the knob a loud growl echoed behind her just before she was spun around and yanked up on her toes as he pressed her front flush to his own.
"You think I'd allow someone else explain something so personal to my mate?" He snarled at her. "Don't play games with me, Jessandra. I'm already hanging on by a thread with you."
"I just want to know, Fallon," she gasped. Her heart was pounding, pushing blood through her system so erratically she could feel it rush in her ears. This man sent thrills through her every time he was close. And with the length of his body pressed against her front, she nearly shook with excitement.
"Fine," he ground between clenched teeth. "When a male takes his mate for the first time, it is like this," he twisted her around so that her front pressed to the wall, her cheek against the earthen grainy coldness of the cave.
"A mark on my chest or neck will match the one at the base of your neck. Marking you as mine and mine alone. And when I'm against you," he demonstrated by pushing himself deeper into her back. "Like this.” She felt his hardened cock on the center of her back, proving again just how much taller he was. “... They meet perfectly." Staying there a long moment, resting his weight on her, hearing her breath hitch, he imagined what taking her would feel like.
Supple skin that gave way to his hardness, cream against his dark. The feel of her hair brushing his wings as he curved them forward to encase them in an intimate privacy no one would dare interrupt.
After a short while, he whispered against her ear, "Do you understand now, Jessandra?"
"Yes," she gasped, unbelievably aroused and frozen to the spot. She didn’t want to move, anyways. His body against her’s, so warm, nearly too hot, and the privacy his wings gave them, added a sort of dangerous feel.
"Good," he huffed before pushing away from her, leaving her chilled and bereft. Standing a mere foot away fro
m her, in a guarded stance, he watched her slowly turn to him as he opened and closed his fists, the need to reach out for her like an all-over ache.
Once she faced him completely, she leaned on the wall for support. "What— " Her voice cracked. Swallowing to clear it, she tried again. "What about my being Seelie?"
Fallon shrugged his tense shoulders. "It is not unheard of for the two to mate with one another, it's just rare and forbidden by the Seelie King, as it is against his purity idealism."
"Why do you hold yourself back, then?" She asked him, rubbing the chill away on one arm.
"I do because if the Seelie guard were to discover us, they would take you to the king's castle. And there they would surely learn of your heritage."
Jess chose her next words carefully. "But we don't know if the markings will even turn up on me."
Neither of them commented that they hadn't even discussed Jessandra's wanting to become someone's mate at all.
"I'm not willing to take the risk," Fallon said, slashing a hand in the space between them, as if to say his words were the end of any discussion on the matter.
"This isn't something you get to decide on your own, Fallon," her voice rose as she stepped forward. Gone was the shyness in him, what stood in front of her now was a king and a prospective mate.
"There's more at stake than just our lives, Jessandra," he reminded her. "If you are caught, everything will have been for nothing. The Unseelie will continue to die and my people would remain enslaved. We can't." His eyes implored her to understand and accept what he was saying.
She did. She saw his words to be true, but it didn't make them any easier to swallow. "Alright." Jess saw the relief mixed with possibly the same awkward pain she felt in her own heart. Not being with him was going to hurt, she could already tell.
"No sex." He didn't look at her, keeping his eyes on the floor between them. "Just— " she took a hesitant step toward him. "Just let me have this." She threw herself forward, afraid either she'd chicken out or he'd catch her and hold her off. Landing flush against him she stood on her tiptoes, reaching for him as she thrust one hand up and behind his head, threading her fingers through his hair.
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