Taking Lara’s hand in his, Magnus led her to Arik who stood with his back to a great stone fireplace flanked on either side by carved Sea Dragons, a blaze burning brightly within. The Great Hall fell silent.
“Do you, Lara, daughter of Swiftsword of Hetar, and Ilona, queen of the Forest Faeries, and you, Magnus Hauk, Dominus of Terah, son of Dominus Ejnar, deceased, and his living widow, Persis, pledge yourselves to each other as husband and wife?” asked Arik, the High Priest.
“Yes!” Lara said.
“Yes!” Magnus agreed.
“Then let it be so in the eyes of the Great Creator of us all,” Arik intoned. “You are now wed, Lara and Magnus. The Great Creator bless your union, and give you many children, and much happiness in the years to come. It is done. Greet your guests.”
The bride and groom turned to face those gathered. A great cheer went up.
“Hail, Dominus Magnus! Hail, Domina Lara!” the assembly cried with one loud voice. And then they clapped their approval of the Dominus’s choice in a wife.
Magnus invited their guests to partake in the feast to celebrate his marriage to Lara. Everyone found their places at the tables set up in the Great Hall, and servants quickly began bringing in the food. There were large platters of roasted meats, game and poultry. There were smaller platters with whole broiled fish on beds of seaweed. There were shellfish cooked in wine, or served raw. Bowls piled high with salad greens, wooden boards laden with breads just out of the ovens, wheels of hard cheese and rounds of soft cheese were brought forth. Baskets of winter fruits were passed about.
The wines flowed generously. The feasting went on all day, and at sunset the guests joined the bride and groom to watch the day end. But unlike Sirvat and Corrado on their wedding day, the Dominus and his Domina of Terah could not yet seek the privacy of their apartments.
Entertainers arrived. Bards sang of Terah’s past and of the beautiful faerie woman who freed them from Usi’s curse. There were tumblers and jugglers, little dogs that danced, and a troupe of felines who walked a tightrope and rode a large patient dog. Clowns moved among the guests, pulling coins from ears and bunches of flowers from their closed fists. The celebration went on deep into the night. And just when everyone was growing tired, a group of dancers clad in scanty silks came to dance seductively before the guests as their musicians played upon drums and reedy instruments that whined sensuously. When the dancers finally departed with the other entertainers, Magnus Hauk stood with Lara by his side. Together they thanked their guests for coming and wished them a safe journey home on the morrow. Then at last they left the Great Hall for their own apartments, where the servants relieved them of their wedding finery, dressed them in loose silk robes and finally left them to themselves.
“Was your wedding day satisfactory, my faerie wife?” Magnus asked her as he drew her into his arms. He kissed the top of her head.
“It was beautiful,” she told him. “And so many gifts, my lord! Surely we needed none of it. Our guests were most generous.” Why did the arms about her feel so wonderful this night? How often had he held her, and yet tonight it seemed different.
“You are beautiful,” he said low. “I am surely the most envied man in Terah.” He undid the tie holding the halves of her robe together. His hands slipped beneath the silken fabric and up her back even as she untied his robe. He pulled her against him, and they sighed simultaneously as warm flesh met warm flesh. He kissed her a slow and lingering kiss that seemed to have no end. His desire for her began to make itself known, but he swallowed back his lust. They knew each other well, but he wanted her to remember this night above all the nights they had already spent together, and would spend together in whatever future was to be theirs.
Lara drew her head away from his, and looking up into his face said, “I love you, Magnus, and those are words faerie women only utter if they are true.” She took his face between her two small hands. Her green eyes met his turquoise ones. “You have the right to my heart, my lord husband. You are the other half of my soul.”
He pushed the robe from her shoulders, and shrugged his own garment away as he picked her up, and brought her to their bed. “Without you,” he told her, “I would have neither heart, nor soul.” He laid her down gently.
Lara was momentarily stunned by his incredible declaration. Tears welled up in her eyes, and she held out her arms to him.
Magnus smiled down at her seeing the emotion his words had brought her to, brushing a single tear from her cheek with a finger. Sitting down next to her he said, “We already know each other, my love, and there is no rush to consummate our now formalized union. Let me offer you pleasure of a different kind.”
She nodded, wondering what it was he would do. Lara watched as he reached down, and drew up a small basket of gold wire filled with alabaster bottles and jars. He rolled her onto her stomach, and turning her head she saw him debating with himself before drawing the stopper from one of the bottles. “What is it?” she asked him.
“A special lotion,” he told her, and held the bottle beneath her nose so she might smell it. Then he pulled her long golden hair to one side.
“Peaches,” she said, surprised.
“Peaches are my favorite fruit,” he replied, pouring some of the lotion into his palm. Then using her bottom as his cushion he sat and began to smooth the liquid up her back with long firm strokes. “Close your eyes,” he said. “Let the sensations take over.”
Lara closed her eyes and almost immediately was intensely aware of his hands on her body. The large palms smoothed over her back; the subtle long fingers scampered along the delicate bones of her spine, up and down, back and forth. She was enveloped in the scent of peach blossoms as he massaged her round buttocks, the edge of one hand slipping between the twin moons to rub sensuously between them. As he moved on to knead each of her legs Lara began to realized her entire body was reacting with increasing heat to her husband’s exciting touch. She struggled with herself to restrain her squirming.
He moved back up her body again, and she felt his teeth nip sharply at the nape of her neck. The quick pain was followed by a kiss upon the same spot. “Now, my faerie love,” he whispered to her, “you will turn over for me.” His tongue pushed into her ear, licking it, nipping at the lobe. He helped her into the position that suited him. She lay upon her back, eyes watching him as he chose another bottle, and poured a thin stream of golden liquid between her breasts. She could smell both peaches and honey from this bottle. He lapped at the fragrant stream with his tongue until it was all gone. Then he drizzled a tiny bit upon one of her nipples, and sucked upon it.
The liquid stung her just slightly. She could actually feel it sinking into her flesh as he suckled hard upon her to draw it out. And then an exquisite intensity began to envelop her being. He poured a tiny dollop of the golden liquid upon her other nipple, drew upon the sensitive flesh, and Lara could not stop the moan of delight that issued forth. Her breasts were both tingling with sensation, and felt so swollen she thought they might burst open. “Magnus,” she breathed hotly as he sprinkled drops from the alabaster bottle over her torso, and began to lick at the flesh with his burning tongue.
Some of the honeyed mixture ran between the slit dividing her nether lips, which were already pouting slightly open with her rising desire. She gasped as it touched her lover’s nub, and began to squirm frantically. His mouth was quickly on her, licking soothingly, sucking upon the nub fiercely until she was begging him to complete what he has begun. “Magnus! Please!”
In answer he bathed his lover’s lance with the same liquid, putting it to her lips. “Taste it,” he told her, “and then we will couple, but I need your mouth upon me as mine has been upon you!”
Lara did not hesitate, but took him between her lips, and suckled upon him. The coating covering his flesh was the most delicious flavor she had ever tasted. She could not stop licking at him, drawing upon his flesh. But then he gently pinched her nostrils together with firm fingers, and when she gasped for air he drew himself from her mouth.
“More!” she begged him. “More!”
In answer he moved himself down her fevered body, and pressed the length of his lover’s lance into her body as far as he could reach. Her slender legs wrapped themselves about him in an effort to bring him deeper. Her sharp little nails began to rake frantically down his back as her passion built from a flame into a conflagration of desire. She screamed as he drew himself almost completely out of her, then thrust hard over and over and over again until their combined lusts exploded, leaving them both drained and barely conscious. When they came to themselves again, the dawn of a new day was beginning to tease at the edges of the horizon.
What had happened? Lara attempted to remember the desire that had brought them to such a weakened state. She sensed he was also awake, and wondered what he was thinking. “Magnus?” Her voice was a whisper.
“Then I did not kill you,” he half groaned. “Praise the Great Creator!”
Lara laughed weakly. “Nay, you did not kill me. Did you mean to, my lord?”
“The lotions and liquids,” he said weakly. “I have never used them before. Corrado bought them from one of the Hetarian traders. They call them Pleasure Enhancers, he said. He thought we might enjoy them.”
“Pleasure Enhancers are used in the Pleasure Houses by the Pleasure Women. Their purpose is to encourage a lover whose interest cannot be gained by ordinary means, or who can no longer function as he did in his youth. They are not for lovers in their prime, my lord,” Lara explained, half laughing.
“We will not use them again,” he said.
“We do not need to use them,” she replied. Then she snuggled into his arms. “Put them away, Magnus. I will always be able to share pleasures with you without such means. The mere sound of your voice renders me weak with desire. But now I find I am so exhausted that I must sleep, or fade away.” She closed her eyes with a sigh. The familiar scent of him was comforting.
The Dominus grinned. He was just as exhausted as she was, but relieved he had not had to admit to it. “Perhaps I will rest a bit, too,” he murmured casually.
Lara swallowed back her laughter, relaxing against her husband until she heard him begin to snore softly. Only then did she allow herself to drift away.
They were awakened several very short hours later by an apologetic serving woman. “Domina,” the woman shook Lara’s shoulder gently. “You must awaken.”
Drawing the coverlet about her Lara sat up. “What is it?”
“The Lady Persis is preparing to leave. She insists you both come and bid her farewell. She also says she would like the fur cape you promised her. She would remind you that it is cold out upon the water.”
Lara laughed, shaking her head with amusement. “Tell Lady Persis that the Dominus and I will be with her very shortly. And she shall have her cape.”
“Yes, Domina,” the serving woman said, and withdrew.
She turned to Magnus.
“I heard,” he said with a groan.
“She cannot leave until we have bid her farewell,” Lara reasoned with him.
“What about her cape?” he asked. “There has been no time to have one made. She will not leave without it, you know.”
“She shall have it,” Lara said, rising from their bed.
“Faerie magic?” he asked.
“What other choice have I?” she replied. “Sirvat says she is angling to return to the castle. If you want her here I will acquiesce, but I suspect she is not an easy woman to live with, Magnus, and I have little tolerance for fools.”
“I would build her a house of her own before I would let her return to the castle,” he said. “There would be little peace with her in the castle, and I cannot rule a kingdom if I must contend with chaos in my home.”
They quickly bathed and dressed, and went to seek out Lady Persis. Lara carried a beautiful full-length fur cape over her arm. They found the Dominus’s mother and her two elder daughters in the day room of the Women’s Quarters.
“She would not let us depart before we had seen you,” his eldest sister, Narda, said. “She has forgotten what it is to be young and in love.”
“I have forgotten nothing, rude girl!” Lady Persis replied.
“I have brought you your cape, madam,” Lara said coming forward, and wrapping the garment about the older woman. “You shall never be cold again in the icy season.” She fastened the cloak with delicate golden frog closings. “And it has a hood,” she added, drawing it up over her mother-in-law’s head. “I knew that marten would flatter you, madam,” Lara said stepping back to admire her hand-iwork.
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