Spinning Fate's Threads

Tazzy: Hmmm. You might get a tiny smidge of a threesome . . . later. The prologue for my OF is up, called Israfel's Fall. It's kinda weird. Don't worry, the Tres confusion will be cleared up in a couple of chapters. Maybe. You'll have to wait a little bit for the Circe/Hugue hugging. Don't worry, Taka will be taking Dietrich's annoying little behind to task. Hehehe.

DarkCrusnikMagician: Now, you didn't really think that Taka had beaten all the sass out of Dietrich yet, did you. Yes, more fun and games with Abel shortly.

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Blaze stepped up the stairs carefully, lifting her heavy skirt to better navigate the steps and out onto the deck. Looking around it seemed that everyone else was still below until she spotted Jeirn standing near the masthead of the ship. She approached him carefully because it seemed he was lost in thought. When she was few feet away he turned to look at her and grinned.



“You should wear your hair like that more often,” he teased, gesturing to the elaborately done hairstyle.



“I’d rather cut it all off but Chiro would kill me,” she said, looking over his much shorter hair. “You look like Billy Idol back in the day.”



“Flattered. Truly,” he said, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and pulling her around to face the front of the ship. “Do you hear it yet?”



Blaze cocked her head and listened for a moment. Hearing the quiet strains of pipes and drums drifting across the waves to them, growing stronger by the moment as they neared land, she smiled.



“No matter how much I may hate the pageantry and nonsense that comes with going home, I never get tired of that sound,” she said.



“Neither do I. How’s Abel?”



“He fainted.”



He chuckled. “Hardly surprising. I’m going to go roust everyone and get them up here. Can’t make the masses wait too long.”



Blaze snorted. “Obviously the Sidhe had nothing better to do when they thought all this nonsense up.”



He shrugged. “Live for several thousand years and you’re bound to get bored.”



“Hn. I’m just glad that introducing him to Dad’s side of the family will be much easier.”



“If you don’t include the massive hangover he’s bound to have the next morning. Providing he’s actually sober the next morning, that is. The Norse do believe in celebrating things like this properly and in much more fun fashion. Hundred bucks says Morrigan challenges him though.”



Blaze visibly shuddered. “Don’t remind me and don’t mention it to Abel. The prospect of being beat down by a war goddess would probably send him screaming instead of just fainting.”





Abel woke by slow degrees. The first sensation being tactile as a cool, wet cloth was swiped over his face and neck and the second being auditory.



“Hells bells, Gun. If you don’t do him soon, I will,” Hunter said, looking down at Abel.



“Hunt,” Gun said warningly. “I thought you didn’t like men that way.”



“Like I told Blaze, I’ll make exceptions if they’re pretty and he is extremely pretty. Stop growling and giving me that look that says you’d like to rip my liver out and feed it to me. I doubt he’d be willing anyway. He has some pretty weird ideas when it comes to sex in general. Bound to have anyway after doing the person who’s essentially your sister. Wonder if he’d do a threesome?”



“Hunt! Doesn’t matter if he would or not I wouldn’t! Will you shut up before he wakes up and hears you. Gods, you have no tact whatsoever.”



“Coward. Tact is for those who don’t have the balls to say what they really think or feel,” Hunter said, grinning at his brother. “You know, the diadem almost gets lost in his hair, the color is so similar.”



“That was a radical change of subject in mid conversation.”



“You were bitching about the previous topic of conversation,” Hunt said with a shrug.



Jeirn stuck his head in the door. “We’ll be there in a little while. You might want to try getting him up and about so he’s at least somewhat coherent before starting this endeavor.”



“Gotcha. Wish we could go that way instead,” Hunt said, nodding to the way Jeirn was dressed. He was wearing a black leather kilt and boots and nothing else but the sword strapped to his hip. The blue tattooing that covered his skin from neck to where the rest was hidden by the kilt marked him as a warrior of stunning merit and not someone to be toyed with.



“You two weren’t trained in the old ways. But if you ever wanted to challenge me . . .” Jeirn said, grinning maliciously.



“I’m crazy, not suicidal,” Hunter said, smiling back in similar fashion.



Now that the conversation had shifted from him, Abel opened one eye cautiously to find Gun still looking at him.



“Are you okay?”



Abel sat up carefully, putting a hand to his aching head and feeling the cool metal of the diadem that now ran around his head. “More or less. Why didn’t anyone tell me about this before?”



“We figured you’d take it badly,” Jeirn said with a shrug. “Don’t stress on it. It’s really just a puff title with no real power behind it. Besides, this is the annoying and prissy side of Edana’s family. We’ll all have much more fun when she introduces you to her dad’s side in a few days.”



“Yes! Drinking in Valhalla and chasing the serving girls around,” Hunt said.



“Do you remember that last time you decided to chase one of the serving girls around she knocked you on your ass?” Jeirn said goodnaturedly.



“Yeah. But it was totally worth it. Come on, how many women can carry the friggin’ serving platters on their boobs.”



“Masochist,” Gun said, rolling his eyes and turning his attention back to Abel. “You’re sure you’re going to be okay?”



“Do I have a choice?”



“Not really.”