Faelust

Niamh was surprised she had not heard the noise sooner, for a gathering of revelers was taking place there. Each man and woman seemed impossibly beautiful, and the deep purple of the wine that flowed freely stood out against the gold of their goblets. She could see by the rubies they wore, and the dyed furs and vibrant colors of their clothing that these were no simple travelers, and their party was no simple affair. It was as though the forest itself had welcomed this event – the flowers shone a brighter lilac, the green of the grass and leaves glowing with life. The ground itself had bent to the will of these Fae folk, forming tables and chairs to place their fineries and seat themselves. The air seemed drunk with magic, and Niamh was fascinated, stepping out farther from her spot where the forest ended.

A few of the Folk noticed her, looking at her human features with a certain hunger that caused fear to bubble up in her stomach. She was shorter than all the Fae, less regal, yet still they seemed to desire her presence, and as she walked farther into the party she could feel concern creeping up her spine. At the outskirts of the revelry, in the darker corners and recesses, men and woman seemed locked in sex, their bodies twisting and writhing against each other, all combinations of numbers and genders partaking in the wine and the flesh of others. Their passion seemed to ignite the air, and she felt a sick desire pass through her like a wave. More were staring at her now, and she wrapped her arms around herself protectively, wishing she was wearing a fine dress, or a thick wool tunic, anything but her thin, white nightgown.

“You look lost,” a voice behind her greeted, and Niamh turned to see a man rise up from what seemed to be the ground itself. He was tall, taller than even the other Fae, well-muscled, and wearing the finest clothing she had ever seen. His hair was pale and long, pulled back in a horsetail that revealed the slight point of his ears. He wore a gold crown upon his head, the red gems upon it seeming to glisten like crystallized blood. Her voice caught in her throat, and she found herself unable to respond.

“Come,” he murmured, approaching her, “Dance with me.”