Dream Trysts: A Sleeping Beauty Story (Passion-Filled FairyTales Book 4) (11 page)

Maurelle was in her throne room when Juanella entered and bowed. She’d sent the wood fairy to the human castle to learn if there was any news of importance on Briar Rose.

“Juanella,” Maurelle said, offering an encouraging smile. As a girl, Juanella had adored Blissa. When Juanella’s mother died of cricketpox, Blissa had sat with her and used her powers to help mute some of the burden. Much as Blissa had done when Maurelle’s mother had died.

There was a certain eternal gratitude one felt to the person who was there with you in the trenches after death. At one time, Maurelle thought she could never hate Blissa. Yet, that was before the betrayal. Before Blissa’s choice to marry a human. And not just any human. The man who was the reason her mother had died. “For my son,” is what Errol had said on the day her mother died. A kingdom for Edmund was why her mother was dead, and Blissa cared not. Blissa deserved everything that had come to her.

Maurelle looked down at Juanella, who seemed to be waiting for Maurelle’s permission to respond. “Please, tell me what you’ve learned.”

Juanella, a petite brunette with close-cropped curls, bowed her head. “Queen,” she started, her voice demure, as was the case with most wood fairies. “As you requested, I went to the castle of King Edmund and listened for bits of news. I have come back because I’ve heard two things that will be of interest to you.”

Juanella looked up, as if seeking for a sign that she’d done well. Maurelle smiled and motioned for the girl to continue.

“Well, I’ve heard that the former princess here has been placed in a sleep alongside Briar Rose. Hilly performed the spell.”

Maurelle stared, wide-eyed. The former princess in a sleep? She had to mean Blissa. She supposed she’d stopped calling her cousin by name, and so had those who came to the castle, referring to Blissa in ways that didn’t cause them to say her name.
The former princess
,
King Roldan’s daughter
,
the former fairy
, and even
your uncle’s daughter
.

“But why?” she said aloud, realizing it a second too late. It was really a thought she’d had for herself, and she knew this young fairy could have no answer as to why. But the girl surprised Maurelle when she spoke.

“I believe it’s because her fairy powers have come in,” she said.

“What powers?”

Juanella’s voice was so low when she spoke that Maurelle had to ask the girl to repeat herself. “She has elemental powers,” Juanella said louder this time. “She can control the wind.”

An elemental fairy. That couldn’t be. Blissa had given up her powers. Surely a fairy who’d given up magic couldn’t produce a child with elemental powers. She’d never heard of such a thing. She’d need to have one of the historians look into it. She’d call one as soon as she finished with Juanella.

“So you think King Edmund’s wife chose to go into a sleep so she could wake with her daughter and help her better understand her powers?”

Juanella nodded. Of course, that had to be why Blissa did it. She had been too harsh on her cousin. Yes, she loved that human fool, but she also loved her daughter. Maurelle felt a warming of her heart. Finally, Blissa was done with that man. She would sleep a hundred years, and when she awoke, her husband would be dead, but she would be alive and available to help her daughter. Elemental powers took time and finesse to learn to control. At least, that’s what Maurelle’s mother had always told her. Maurelle looked down at the girl and smiled. “Thank you, Juanella,” she said. “This was important news. I need a few minutes to think over its ramifications. Please have some dinner in the kitchen, but stay near. I may need you shortly.”

Juanella hesitated, and then spoke. “There’s one more piece of news, highness,” she said. “Hilly has suggested they evacuate the castle because Rose’s powers are presenting in her sleep.”

Maurelle raised an eyebrow. “Presenting how?”

“Low winds is what I heard, queen,” she said. “But I did not see it. The princess and the former princess are under lock and key.”

Maurelle nodded and then sent Juanella away. She leaned back on her throne, pondering. Blissa asleep with Briar Rose. She hadn’t envisioned this, but it was the right thing, she knew. Fate had led them to this moment in time. What was right was happening. Blissa was away from Edmund and she would continue to be so as long as she was asleep. But given that Blissa had made this sacrifice for her daughter, it should not be to wake up with things so different. She knew what she would do.

* * *

Hilly realized that evacuating the castle, as Edmund was so against it, was probably not going to happen. But perhaps there was a way to contain Rose’s magic. She thought she’d read something of containment magic. It was a subset of healing, but she didn’t remember all the particulars. She still had a fairy stone. She would travel home and try to find the information she needed.

* * *

Maurelle had ordered all the wood fairies to come with her to the castle of King Edmund. She would put the entire castle to sleep. They would wake whenever Rose did. And no one would disturb them during their slumber. Not any who would do them harm, nor any who would try to break the spell.

Most fairies did not have wings, but the wood fairies did, their wings beating strong and proud. Maurelle had transformed to a bird for the journey, and when she landed, she whispered her spell and watched as person after person fell asleep wherever they were. Maurelle had her six wood fairies land outside and wait, as she searched through the castle for King Edmund. She looked in room after room, ornate and beautiful, intricately decorated to impress.

Then, finally, she stumbled upon the throne room and saw Edmund, who was falling asleep. She walked over to him and touched his forehead with the tip of her thumb. She whispered, “Your sleep will be one where you age,” and then removed her thumb. Edmund would grow old and die, and when Blissa awoke, she could teach her daughter well, without the disturbance of this awful human.

Maurelle then searched the castle until she found her cousin’s chamber. There, lying near each other on separate beds, were Blissa and Briar Rose. Ah, Blissa looked so peaceful as she slept, almost the way she had as a child. A happy memory of she and Blissa searching for fairy stones at the Crystal Pond crept into Maurelle’s mind. She had loved that Blissa.

She went over to her cousin’s bed and kissed her forehead. “Sleep well, cousin.” Then, she felt a cool breeze on her cheek and looked over at Briar Rose. There was a light wind swirling around the room. It had picked up a quill and was sending it zipping around.

Maurelle sighed. Juanella had been right. Briar Rose possessed an elemental power. And if it were this strong while she slept, Maurelle imagined it would be downright frightful while the girl was awake. It was good she slept. Were the girl to rise and wish to challenge Maurelle’s right to the throne, her claim would be good. Elemental fairies were beloved as rulers. Only she couldn’t have Briar Rose make such claims, not while Edmund lived. Not while he was still in the picture.

“You sleep well, too, little Briar Rose,” she said, before sweeping out of the room and returning to the front of the castle.

When she arrived, her fairies awaited her instructions. “I have put the entire castle to sleep,” she said. “This will allow Briar Rose and the former princess to have some familiar people about when they awake. But it does not protect them from outside threats. I want you to raise a wall or thorns and brambles to surround the castle. It should be at least twenty feet tall and go all the way around. It will keep all the ills of the world out”

The wood fairies nodded, then began their work. Maurelle watched as thick vines sprouted from the ground and climbed skyward, entangling with each other to form an enormous wall around the castle. While they started as green vines, as they grew, they turned brown and thickened into hard branches with large spikes protruding from them. The way they curled and looped, some of the vines looked like menacing evil eyes sure to scare off even the bravest warriors.

Maurelle smiled, and said, “Thank you. Let us return home, and think no more of this place until the hundred years is over.”

It had been a long day, or at least it felt like one. Rose had no idea how long it actually had been. It could have been a month or a week, or heaven forbid, a year. She shivered at the thought. A year of her life slipping away without her knowledge. A hundred years of her life spent in a slumber where all those she loved would be gone. All except her mother, who’d been put to sleep, too, with the goal of finding her daughter.

They were in a clearing, away from the Crystal Pond in her dreamscape. It looked the same as the clearing near where she grew up. It was beautiful and serene and calm and the sun shone brightly overhead. It shone as bright as it had yesterday and the day before that. Or maybe it shone as brightly as the week before and the week before that. It had felt like just a few hours had passed with James, but it had been two weeks. How long had she and her mother been like this?

Rose was sitting on the ground, her legs crossed, staring at the clearing, watching the wind swirl at her command. Her mother sat beside her, watching, too.

The wind, which had picked up leaves and twigs, moved in an ascending zig zag pattern, before flying in a straight line due north, then settling in a pile on the ground. Rose flicked her finger impatiently and the wind died, dropping all it was carrying.

“What’s wrong, Rose?”

She looked around at the forever sunny blue sky, then raised her arms, stretching them out to point to all around her. “This,” she said. “We’re stuck in a hundred year slumber, and the only person who could’ve undone the deed I might have killed.”

Blissa patted her daughter’s arm, and sighed. “I know it’s difficult, Rose,” she said. “But do not despair. I don’t believe you killed James.”

Rose turned to look at her mother, shaking her head. James had been so pale when she’d sent him away. She should have realized earlier, but it was clear in her memories now that he looked near death. “Mother, you didn’t see him. You didn’t see how bad a shape he was in.”

Blissa gently stroked her daughter’s cheek and shook her own head. “You didn’t see him, either, sweetheart. You saw a dream representation of him. And perhaps that was his mind trying to alert him that his body needed nourishment, not what he really looked like.”

Rose stared at her mother, watching her open face, her gentle nod of reassurance, of comfort. Even her mother’s touch was comforting, shooting a simple wave of calmness through her. Was she right?  Was James fine? Was his horrid look simply a way for his mind to alert them both that his body wasn’t doing well? Her mother seemed so sure. She wanted to believe. She felt a strong yearning to. But something was telling her, something in the back of her mind was telling her to resist. She pulled away from her mother and the doubts and fears flooded back.

James was surely dead, and she had killed him through her inaction.

Rose eyes constricted as she looked at her mother, the wheels in her head turning. Something wasn’t right about what just happened.

Blissa stared back at her daughter, her mouth quirking upward in confusion. “What’s wrong, Rose?”

The girl stared at her mother. “Mother, were you …” she asked, but it sounded so strange to ask. “Were you calming me with your touch?”

Blissa nodded. “I was trying,” she said with a half-smile. “I wanted to give you peace. People think better, clearer, when they’re calm and their heart isn’t filled with distress.”

Perhaps there was a certain logic to that. Thinking clearly was good, but were people really better off when they were calm? She wondered. “Mother,” she said. “I thought you gave up your fairy powers. How do you have them back?”

Blissa smiled. “Dear, I always have my powers in our dreams. Remember when I used to levitate you and send you swaying around the wood?”

Rose nodded. Of course she remembered that. Who wouldn’t? They were some of her best memories of her mother. They were times of peace and happiness. Powers in her dreams. Rose turned and looked at a tree on the opposite edge of the clearing. She concentrated, and with a long whoosh, a swish of wind cracked the tree in half.

“Rose,” her mother shouted. “Why? Why would you do that?”

Rose stared at the tree. A moment later, the broken half raised up, stood fully upright and mended itself to the lower half. The tree was fixed.

“I wanted to see if I could do that,” Rose answered. “Mother, what if the powers in my dreams aren’t real? What if I don’t have them when I awaken?”

Blissa stared at the tree, which now sat there, still and whole, and then looked at her daughter. “No, I don’t think that’s the case, Rose. For fairies, when we dream, we dream with the powers that are ours. I think, my dear, you have more powers than even I imagined.”

* * *

As Eldred slept, he journeyed to her. In his dream sleep, he found Maurelle in her bed chamber. She wore only a tight leather frock that accentuated her ample bosom and clung to her feminine shape, hugging her hips and highlighting her perfect, round ass. He swallowed and took a step back, uncertain. Though he’d longed to, he had never seen her like this. He felt such strong urges of the flesh, even though he knew it was merely a vision in dream sleep.

“Why are you here, Maurelle?” He only managed a whisper. He was so distracted by her. She smelled of pine. Like she did when they were little and they would play together in the woods. Surely it was his imagination, some repressed fantasy of his bubbling up into this dream. He tried to clear his head, but he couldn’t concentrate with her wearing so little. He felt his loins stiffen, as he watched her spread her legs, and lift a finger beckoning him to come closer.

She could only want one thing, coming to him like this. But why now? Had his leaving made her come to her senses? He took a few steps closer ‘til he stood at the edge of her bed, which was adorned with gold-colored silky sheets. Her skin took on a golden glow, almost as if she were a light at the end of a tunnel designed solely for him.

“Why are you here?” he whispered again, unable to say her name. He knew all too well the power of names, both in the realm of magic and in the human world. Names meant things. Titles meant things. It was why Maurelle was so angry at what Blissa did, naming Briar Rose the heir to the throne of the fairy realm. Eldred, as anyone who had studied the magic surrounding names and oaths would have, understood how Maurelle felt betrayed. He’d tried to reason with her. For nearly twenty years, he’d tried and he’d failed. And finally, he’d left. But he still loved her. And saying her name again would make him give into her completely. Give in before he understood her purpose. Here, even in this dream state, in a dream that he’d had on his own so many times, he knew that he should be wary.

Maurelle reached out and her soft fingers touched his hand, setting loose fiery tingles on his skin that seemed to travel through his body, making everything alive. “I want you, Eldred,” she said, her voice soft, throaty, and filled with yearning. “I didn’t realize until you left that I couldn’t do this without you.”

She dangled her long, silky legs over the edge of the mattress, her dainty feet making a soft thud as she set them on the marble floor. She stood, pressed herself against him, and wrapped her arms around him. Everything about her body screamed that she wanted him to take her. He tried to remain still, not to react, but he had a heart and he was only flesh. His heart still loved her and his flesh yearned to take her.

Maurelle spoke into his chest. “I’m sorry,” she said, and the words felt magical, as if they’d lifted years of burden from him. They made his heart light. “You are a Halfling, yes, but you are a fairy, a good fairy. Strong, brave, and wise. I want you to be with me, to rule at my side. I want you. Please come home. Please be by my side.” They were words he’d longed to hear for so long, that he said nothing, just stood there savoring the way they sounded, replaying the words in his mind.

He finally allowed himself to wrap his arms around her, to feel, really feel the softness of her skin, to touch her, gliding his fingers down her arms, feeling the shape of her rump, enjoying the smoothness of her long, silky legs.

He said her name, “Maurelle,” with all the love he had ever felt for her, and she tipped her head up and smiled at him. And not just any smile — that coy, sexy, slightly lopsided smile she used to give him when they were teenagers and she wanted him to do something to help her. It was the smile that always drove him wild, and it hadn’t lost its effect.

He pressed his lips to hers, taking her mouth rapidly. She was sweet, even to the taste, and those lips were everything he’d ever dreamed they would be: delicate, soft, supple, perfect. She stepped to the side, and turned him, moving him gently so his back was to the bed, and then she pushed him down on the mattress. She smiled down at him, a voracious hunger in her eyes. “I have denied myself too long,” Maurelle said. “I’ve kept myself from what I wanted.”

He swallowed the lump in his throat, as the nerves in him melted away, as the words that he had longed to hear had finally been spoken. It filled him with confidence. “And so have I,” he said as he watched her above him, towering in command. She always enjoyed her control, and he yearned to yield to her, because she was truly beautiful. Her beauty was in her power, in her grace, in her desires, in the way she knew exactly what she wanted. She was best when she unleashed herself, rather than held back, and in this moment, he knew she intended to hold nothing back.

“You’re wearing too much,” she said, as she raised her eyebrow and flicked her wrist. The clothes he’d been wearing pulled free of his body, shredding themselves as they zoomed away to wherever she’d sent them, and he smiled as he stared at her, the leathery frock she wore clinging to her body.

He had a good mind to magic it away himself. Only, he’d waited too long. He had no intentions of rushing his moment with Maurelle. He would savor every lingering touch she bestowed upon him. She spread her legs, and climbed atop his naked body, her knees and arms supporting her as she dangled just above him.  “I want to touch every part of you,” she whispered. “The parts I’ve seen, the ones I’ve only dreamed about. All of you, Eldred. All of you tonight.”

She kissed his naked body, starting at his neck and roving down his muscular chest, using her hands to hold his arms at his sides. She nipped at his nipple, a feeling that sent warm tingles down Eldred’s spine, and she continued down his belly, past the tuft of hair, to find his long rod had already stiffened in anticipation of her. Though, truth was, her very presence was enough to make him hard. He’d wanted her way too long.

She glided her fingers slowly over his thickness, the feel of it sending tingles through him. Then, Maurelle smiled at him and said, “I’m going to take you. I want it to be filled with fury and passion everything you’ve been holding back.”

She edged down his body and gently ringed his cock with her tongue. Just enough to get him ready. It was his turn for magic now, though. He certainly wasn’t as powerful as a queen, but he knew a trick or two.

The sound of ripping fabric startled Maurelle, as she looked down just in time to see the black leather straps she’d been wearing fly away and land on the floor. In a quick move, he sat up, scooping her in his arms, so she wasn’t too jostled by the move. Then he lay her down on his back and he was on top of her, straddling her.

“I know what you need,” he said to her. “And you’ve got plenty of passion. You need simmer.” It was the hard, dark parts that Maurelle showed the world, but he knew that she was really fragile and loving, that she had splintered a bit when her mother died that horrible, horrible death. She said she wanted hard and fury, but that’s not what she needed. She needed the loving touch she’d missed for most of her life. A touch he’d wanted to give her and could now.

He pushed inside her, feeling her tighten around him, her slick walls a canvas for him to paint with deep caring strokes. She closed her eyes, as he pushed into her, and caressed her skin at the same time. He wanted her to feel loved, to feel alive, so he kissed her neck, the soft supple skin that seemed to glow with warmth as his mouth glided across it, down her collarbone. The sound of her gasp, made his heart bound, and he continued, loping across her, his tongue gently sweeping across the delicate areas that he knew would make her flesh tremble and her mouth pant in joy.

“We shouldn’t have waited,” he heard her whisper, and she was right and wrong at the same time. They shouldn’t have waited for so long; she shouldn’t have been stubborn and prone to anger for so long. But this, this was glorious, and there was something to be said about an event being worth the wait.

“I’d wait all of eternity for you,” he whispered back. She smiled, one of true joy, as she clasped her hands on his ass and pulled him deeper inside of her. She closed her eyes and her mouth opened in a rasp as he forged himself into her. It was like coming home to the place he’d always known he should be.

Leaning in, he kissed her forehead, and decided to ramp up his pace. Their slow dance had undone her as he’d hoped, but now she deserved, after the wait, more of what she wanted. His hips danced in a steady motion, increasing his speed as she let out gentle moans and coos — the sound of her voice, strangled with passion, drove him wild. He planted his arms firmly on the mattress, gaining purchase so he could pump harder, firmer. She arched her back, leaning into him, giving herself over to him and he offered a crooked smile in return

Though, he was pretty sure she hadn’t noticed his smile. Her mouth hung open, panting with his every stroke, her head tipped back, her mind focusing only on the feel of him in her, on the warm, tingles that seemed to be spreading through her.