Love me [I NEED THE ANGST WASHED AWAY]
Leave a “Love Me” in my ask, and I’ll write a fluffy drabble about our characters.
He’d just come from the hot springbathhouse in the basement—or what passed for a basement in theimpossible spaces that made up the manor. Hair still wet, dressed inloose comfortable clothing not meant to go outdoors, the last thinghe expected was to turn a corner and find Mab, Queen of Air andDarkness, studying one of the vast paintings on the wall.
A sword appeared in his hand withoutmuch noise and she didn’t move a muscle, but a sudden smile curvedher lips.
“I would not have guessed you to besuch a lover of art, Captain.”
It was true, his manor was litteredwith all kinds of art, his harem strewn with artists, his bodycovered in designs. It was a bit of an obsession, though not one thatoften drew attention. The painting she studied was the masterwork ofan Italian painter who—tragically—never had the chance to becomefamous. Every last one of his paintings had a place somewhere in a certainfae pirate’s holdings, though.
Mab turned in the silence and studiedthe captain, her easy smile turning a little higher at the edges tosee him in that state. Confused beyond measuring, damp and in shock.She’d seen him completely naked, watched him sleep, even been presentwhen he took his time in peeling off the iron jewelry, but she’dnever seen him with his guard down in this fashion. So wholly relaxedand insulated from the world, with not a shred of a shield up forpresentation.
It showed in her smooth chuckle.
“You can’t be here…” he finallysaid, slowly, almost like he had to remember the words.
And she was. She was there. Reallystanding there. Unless he was having the most intense trip of hislife, this was really happening. Mab had appeared in his home. Inthe middle of Mag Mell. Itshouldn’t have been possible. Mag Mell was a natural fortress.Surrounded by storms, by beasts of the deep, by ravenous waters. Noone but the best Fomoire sailors could make Mag Mell’s beaches. Itwas sanctuary. Foreign visitors did not land unless they weresupposed to—and even then, deals occurred out on open water.
Thenagain, he’d never had a sidhe queen follow him home, so maybe theyhad different rules.
Rionach’s going to kill me.
“No,you don’t understand.” The sword vanished from his hand as heapproached her, so very serious for once. “You can’tbe here. You have to leave.”
“Careful,Lord Rhymer, you are speaking to a queen. A sidhe queen who mustreturn the favor for all the times you mysteriouslyarrived in mybedchambers.”
Hisstress did fade a bit at that, recalling all the various securityholes he’d found and the different reactions he’d pulled from herhighness. It wastrue he was considered a brute by many standards, more a bluntinstrument than anything approaching surgical. But he had enjoyedbeing sneaky—or on rare occasions very, verycharming—to slip his way inside. Sometimes he caught her fresh outof the throne room, sometimes she retired to her suite to find himlounging.
Itwasn’t so fun or funnynow that he was the victim.
“So,will you give me a tour?”
Herhead canted prettily, far too innocent for all her power, and Airn’seyes narrowed. Mab laughed at the reaction. Closing the remainingspace between them, she laid her hands against his chest, smilingsomewhat distractedly at the lingering moisture, wondering where itwas that he bathed. Wondering a lot of things, actually. He only noticed then that her feet didnot touch the ground, hovering an inch or so off and making her justthat much taller than him.
“It’snot a small island, but it’s still an island,” he tried again.“Word travels veryfast and this house is not empty.”
Thequeen arched an eyebrow, tracing her fingers along the line of hisiron-contact burn, pleased he wasn’t wearing any of the jewelry. “Doyou not trust your servants?”
“Tobe silent about something like this?” He laughed.
“Beat ease, captain. We are allies, are we not?”
“It’sdifferent.” He scowled, unable to describe exactly whyit was different, beyond his own feelings of violated privacy. Butone thing was sure. He moved a little closer, voice low andconspiratorial. “They’d have my head and then yours. Withouthesitation.”
Mabdrew back a bit and the air turned a little colder, a suddenbriskness to the muggy island air. “You think even an entire islandof Fomoire could best Mab?”
Hesquinted, as if he wanted to argue—vehemently—but decided it wastoo childish a point to push and said instead with much weight behindthe words through a tense jaw: “I think they’d make a pretty goodgo of it.”
Shewas not afforded a chance to laugh or caress his rare glower or evenkiss his frowning lips. The captain’s head jerked, hearing a noise shewas not tuned enough to the island to register as anything butbackground. And then, without warning, he’d caught her around thewaist like all the hundreds of times he’d yanked her into alcoves inBoreas.
Exceptthis time it was more of a throw and he shut the cupboard door afterher, sealing her in darkness.
Airnwinced as soon as he’d shut the door after the Queen of Air andDarkness. But it didn’t explode open again and all remained silentwhen Genevieve rounded the corner, her shift falling off one smoothshoulder, smile blooming at the sight of him, though it switchedquickly from fond to amused.
Airnturned, eyebrows up, still too unbalanced to play it off completely.The Frenchwoman drifted closer, chuckling. Her fingers curled in hisshirt as she arrived in order to lean up closer to him, voicedropping to a whisper as if telling a secret.
“You’restanding alone in a corridor.”
Airnglanced around and she giggled, reaching up to toy with his hair.
“Doesmy lord require assistance to the bedroom?”
Herlord made a noise of frustration and regret, hands slipping againsther waist. Much as he might’ve enjoyed fucking his pet there in thehall where Mab was hidden—and being strangely well-behaved—he wasstill a bit too tense from it all to be so daring.
Hersmooth palm stroked his cheek and he gripped her wrist, pulling itaside to press three kisses down the exposed skin.
“Nottonight. In fact, could you keep everyone away from my quarters?”
Genevievefrowned, even as she watched his lips on her skin, but she nodded.“As you wish.” Standing up on tiptoe again, she kissed the cornerof his mouth. “Good night, my lord. Sleep well.”
Airnwatched her drift off again, a little bit of yearning in his eyes.But then she was gone and he grabbed at the closet door, yanking itopen to reveal nothing at all. A chill shot down his spine that hecouldn’t completely qualify as being natural. But the idea of thequeen getting bored and fucking off back to her ice palace seemed abit too good to be true.
Creepingback through the halls of his own home put him back in a sour mood,but he found her again in his room—fairly vast, especially comparedto his quarters, though nowhere near as large or plush as the royalsuite. The bed could comfortably fit six, the room littered withvarious trinkets, weapons, drinks, maps, and pillows, and all fourdoors to the veranda wide open to let in the night air breeze, lightdrapes wafting.
Andthere was Mab, sitting on his bed, one leg crossed over the other,looking not especially incensed for being shoved into a closet. Yet again, she did not touch the flooror his bed, hovering just an inch away. Her head she’d tilted back,studying the—rather impressive if he did say so himself—muralpainted across the expanse of the ceiling. The stars there, centeredabove the bed, were like real and always made him smile when heopened his eyes on them.
Airnstalled out, breath still caught up in his lungs for the rest of hisstatement. Resigning it to never be spoken, he exhaled. Not knowingquite how to respond to that—or how to behave in general sinceshe’d caught him so vulnerable—he half wanted to somehow physicallythrow her out.
“Ifyou stay here too long, someone willfind out,” he asserted. “And even if I’m not branded traitor orsidhe-lover or something worse, someonewill find a way to use it against me.”
Hecould think of one someone in particular, in fact.
Mabremained quiet for a moment in the face of this continuedvulnerability. It wasn’t quite as funny as his shock before in thecorridor. Then she held out a hand. It was not a command. No sultrycome here that usuallymade him smirk and crawl atop her like a predator. Just a simplerequest in the line of her arm and her extended fingers.
Airntook a deep breath of the familiar air of his home, glancing towardone of the doors. He sighed and started to walk before he looked backtoward her. He was only a few feet away by the time he met her eyesagain, finding them strangely open and unguarded as well. Hehesitated only a moment before slipping his hand against hers.
“MayI stay a night in your home, Lord Airn?”
Hestared, speechless. Not only was it a true request, without a shredof sarcasm or cruelty, but her seated position before him standingwas certainly breaking all kinds of sidhe decorum rules about royalsand lords, not to mention pirates. But he got the feeling, were he torefuse, Mab would get up and disappear without further fuss. Something about the way she hadn’tactually touched the floors of his home yet. And thatwas…well, he didn’t know what to do with that.
Hisbedroom door was rarely shut, but Genevieve would keep curious eyesaway to give him his privacy. There would be questions the next day.Surely he could handle questions. No one had seen the queen. She washidden away here. In his bed. In his manor. On his island home. Andacting more subtly unqueenly than he’d ever seen before.
Withhis free hand, he stroked the line of her cheekbone, down to her jaw.
Shesmiled, and it turned to a little of the Mab he was used to. All smugand pleased with what she had in her hands. Which, for the moment,was her daring pirate captain—still familiar after all.
