Page 23 of Sweetling
It wasn’t finished and certainly wasn’t perfect, but now, with her, he hoped to complete his work very soon. Imbuing magic into the house and surrounding land took time, allowing the native magic and his own to accustom and acclimate to each other. Over time, it began to act as a sort of circuit like that in the faelands, sharing the burden of the magic.
Allarion hoped to one day soon include Molly in that circuit. As a human, born of this land, he suspected she would ease the bond. She would likely never wield magic like a fae, but on his land, bonded to him and Bellarand through magic, she would still be part of their circuit. Someday, he hoped to have Ravenna too within the circuit, and together, they could build a safe little haven away from the faelands.
Imbuing his magic into the house had had some interesting consequences. The house itself was gaining its own sentience. Some structures in the faelands, as well as trees and even lakes, had been known to grow such sentience. As he added his magic and made the necessary repairs to the house, it surprised him how quickly the formerly abandoned manor awoke and took to its new state, but it wasn’t unwelcome.
Another being for their circuit.
He very much wished for Molly to like the house and his repairs to it—and for the house to welcome her.
Allarion knew the moment they passed onto the estate. They crossed over his thick layer of wards, the magic flowing over them like the finest gossamer. Molly shuddered in his arms, her head turning this way and that for the first time.
“Be at ease,” he soothed, “it was only my wards. We are now on my estate.”
Her head jerked in a short nod, and although it wasn’t much improvement from a shake of her head, it was still an improvement.
The moments passed quickly as Bellarand found the familiar path through the forest deeper into the estate. The trees and ferns rustled sleepily, welcoming them home.
Summoning his magic, Allarion lit the lamps that lined the main drive up to the manor. A soft glow emanated between the trees ahead, and as they neared, he felt Molly straighten just as the trees thinned and the path evened. Soft blue light from the lamps puddled in circles on the ground, lighting their way home.
Bellarand’s hooves crunched on the gravel as he trotted up the slight incline to the manor itself. The house loomed above them, and with a thought, Allarion lit a few of the lamps and sconces within the finished wing. Light burned in the windows, a sentinel in the night calling them in from the wilderness.
Molly’s head tilted back as she looked up at the four-storied house, with its two turreted south and east towers and grand staircase leading up to the second level front doors. Her human eyes likely couldn’t discern much in the darkness, even with the light from the lamps, but Allarion still awaited her noises of delight, or at least approval.
Such noises never came.
She said nothing as Bellarand trotted past the grand staircase and around the side of the manor, to the back where a side door into the kitchen stood.
Allarion could feel the house waking from its slumber, shutters rattling and shingles twitching. It was as if the house leaned over to get a good look at them, holding its breath with anticipation.
Molly held perfectly still, and Allarion watched in surprise as the skin at the back of her neck prickled.
Off you get,grumbled Bellarand,I’m tired.
Yes, yes.
Allarion slipped off, turning to help Molly down, too. She reluctantly put her hand on his shoulder as he caught her waist with his free hand. He lifted her, only to have her slide down his front.
He just barely caught the groan in his throat.
She peered up at him with those big brown eyes, and for a moment, all Allarion could think of was how good she smelled and how soft her skin had been when he kissed her in her uncle’s tavern.
Twins take him, he wanted to do that again. Soon. Many times. All over her body.
As soon as they were dismounted and the bags relieved from his back, Bellarand shook out his mane with a great huff and headed off into the darkness, sliding through the shadows to find the meadow of clover he preferred to bed down in.
Molly watched Bellarand disappear amongst the shadows, her lips drawn thin.
“Shall we?”
She looked at him then at the house. “It’s just us here?”
He frowned, not quite understanding her meaning. “There’s the house.” He would explain its sentience to her soon. Now, he suspected she needed rest after that long ride.
When she nodded slowly, Allarion took the encouragement and led her into the house.
The kitchen was cold and quiet, slumbering as it waited for her to breathe new life into it. Allarion had neglected the room at first, as fae had no need of kitchens, but when he’d determined to bring a human bride home, the kitchen was his next project. It now gleamed with clean countertops, a new oven and stove, and an array of pots, pans, and utensils. Unsure what she’d need, Allarion got her everything. He considered lingering, to point out all his repairs and refurbishments, but decided that could wait.
He took her up the most direct path through the house, choosing the sturdiest floorboards. Lamps lit to guide their way, helping him point out where she needed to tread carefully or where she should refrain from going until he’d made it safer.
