Thread: A Cold Summer, A Warm Winter [darkangel76 x Chammy]

The human had been stripped of her clothes and her nakedness was all the more felt now that he was in the room with her. The winter fae began to take a leisurely stroll around the human. He placed a hand on the small of her back as he circled around her, letting his fingernails drag along the curvy dip between ribs and hips as he made his way to stand in front of her once again. His hand rested on her belly, then began to glide up her body, between her breasts those long fingers danced over her collarbone and parted around her neck, so that his thumb held the opposite side of his fingers. He squeezed lightly, but not enough to choke. He dug his thumb into a pressure point beneath her jaw, using that to twist her about, to view her face from every angle. When her hair moved just so, he reached out to touch her exposed ear, pulling lightly on the lobe before tracing a finger along the helix he seemed fascinated by the alien shape of it. To him, it would seem that it should be pointed it was just more proof of how very lowly and animal-like humans had become. His hand left her neck, fingernail trailing down the hollow of her throat he placed a palm over breast and gave a testing squeeze. He moved his palm to the outside of the same breast, using his thumb to rub her nipple until the bud had tightened. His mask of uncaring broke, then. A sly smirk pulled his pale face apart, but it melted away slowly, like a spring thaw. Caelyn Conley was not the one standing before him and he nearly lashed out against the slave when he realized where his train of thought had taken him. He let go of emotion, slowly, willing it to dissipate once again, leaving him calm. His fingers continued their voyage, middle finger taking the lead of the expedition his thumb rode through the dip of her navel as the hand moved between her legs. Any protest was silence as his free hand shot forward, lightning-quick, to grab her about the throat. This time, the squeeze was a fair bit tighter, just enough to slow her breathing, but it kept her mind occupied as he felt her, running his hands over her sex. Despite the pleasant feeling of his smooth fingers against her, it was not sexual he was merely curious as to her condition. He pulled from her, sooner than she might expect. His hand left her body and he made his circuit around to her backside. Fingers were now gliding from the curve between shoulder and neck, down her spine... The little dip at the very height of the cleavage where both buttocks came together. He gave a hidden smile he'd touched her with the intent of raising gooseflesh and she hadn't disappointed. Both hands moved to touch those full hills of flesh, trailing down past them to the ticklish backs of her thighs. As the goosebumps rose even higher at that touch, he couldn't help but laugh. He pulled away from her and took three quick steps, turning on his heel to face her. He was wiping his hands on a handkerchief. You're filthy... he said, almost a growl. Hairy. Unkempt. Worst of all, uneducated. The way he said 'uneducated' made her think that he meant nothing like a boarding school... His words were barbs and she couldn't, for the life of her, understand why they hurt so well. Each syllable in that alien-language which she somehow understood perfectly drove mental images into her mind of what she could be. Flawlessly milky skin, not a sag or wrinkle upon her, and her hair, beautiful with elven braiding. A drop of crimson. A taste of metal. But none of it made sense, coming into her consciousness so quickly that it was nearly painful. Then something broke. He'd released her from the spell. She could move, she could speak, and she could think and feel for her own. She suddenly felt, instead, a grogginess that quickly overwhelmed her. She stirred slightly during a bath, where they scrubbed her skin hard. She had the unfortunate luck to awake during what looked like a complex ritual strips of guaze were held to her skin by some warm, alchemical regent, then yanked off, leaving pink skin behind. The same luck allowed her to pass out after only a few of those terrible seconds. She awoke to hands pulling on her hair as a pair of elven women worked a braided crown or circlet around her head, leaving much of her hair free to fall as it chose. When at last these sleeping spells had ended, she was lying down in a bed of silks. The room she was in rocked, tilting to and fro like an infant's bassinet. On the deck of the Toralienellaron, a blackhawk-class elven ship, stood the Winter Court fae, staring out over the ocean, at the island in the distance that grew with every league they traveled. He re-read the missive that had arrived in the central isle the fae maiden he had become so obsessed with had claimed herself as a champion of the humans. He couldn't help but laugh at the irony below deck, he'd stolen away at least two-dozen of her wards. When Caelyn of House Conley arrived at the expansive fields and manor of House Conley, it was but a day before a rider had caught up with her. The Autumn Court fae had presented Caelyn with a wrapped object. Unwrapping it, she'd find a thin longsword with a basket hilt, worked entirely with golden ithilmar and silver mithril, so that it was as light as a writing quill. Attached was a note, signed by a fae unknown to her or any of the fae she asked. To the Champion of the Lesser Races, it read. Signed, Elethir of House Ryunne.