Richard kept his eyes on her the whole time. After all, he was no stranger to the tales, which heavily featured disappearing children. Fairies loved stealing away little boys and girls. Why? He couldn't have said. Perhaps they needed them to swell their ranks--or perhaps they simply enjoyed seeing the distress they caused the parents of the missing children. Richard couldn't say, and frankly he didn't care. He just watched his daughter, making certain none of the eclectically-dressed figures would spirit her away.
The three sat down at the end of a table and began to eat, doing their best to fit into the strange, alien party. As they began to tuck in a few Fairies drifted by, brushing by the Slime and giving her curious looks--not as if they'd never seen something like her before, but more as if she was some kind of oddity that drew faint attention. No, the true treasure they had set their sights on was Laele. And as they came near her their excitement became obvious. Their eyes gleamed and their fingers reached out unbidden. They traced their hands through the little girl's hair, brushed her chin, patted her head, poked her here and there. Some might have gone further, perhaps, but without fail each newcomer was met with a growl and a threatening look from her father. Perhaps the king hadn't been cowed by his manner, but most of the others were.
He would have liked to tell his daughter not to eat anything, not to drink anything, but it was too late: the Slime had swallowed several bits already and Laele was eagerly following. Richard frowned thunderously and took a cursory sniff of his red-filled mug, but ignored it afterwards. And would have gone on ignoring it if it wasn't for the Fairy woman's "clumsy" swing of her arm: with a frustrated curse Richard went to stand up but was interrupted by her again. He stared at her with his dark, tugged-down eyebrows and made eye contact with her as she tried to wipe off his stained, wet pants. It would be a lie to say her touch didn't feel pleasant, but it could only distract him for a few seconds or so--and that was all it took.
Laele lifted from her seat in a whirl of colored leaves, her gravity leaving her temporarily as she floated, light as a feather, among the revelers. They cooed and called and cheered as she went, as if on a string, towards the Fairy King. She came to rest on his surprisingly soft lap and he let his hands come to rest on her shoulders. His voice was soft, floral, alluring. "And look at you, child. How many men have you seduced yet?"
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The three sat down at the end of a table and began to eat, doing their best to fit into the strange, alien party. As they began to tuck in a few Fairies drifted by, brushing by the Slime and giving her curious looks--not as if they'd never seen something like her before, but more as if she was some kind of oddity that drew faint attention. No, the true treasure they had set their sights on was Laele. And as they came near her their excitement became obvious. Their eyes gleamed and their fingers reached out unbidden. They traced their hands through the little girl's hair, brushed her chin, patted her head, poked her here and there. Some might have gone further, perhaps, but without fail each newcomer was met with a growl and a threatening look from her father. Perhaps the king hadn't been cowed by his manner, but most of the others were.
He would have liked to tell his daughter not to eat anything, not to drink anything, but it was too late: the Slime had swallowed several bits already and Laele was eagerly following. Richard frowned thunderously and took a cursory sniff of his red-filled mug, but ignored it afterwards. And would have gone on ignoring it if it wasn't for the Fairy woman's "clumsy" swing of her arm: with a frustrated curse Richard went to stand up but was interrupted by her again. He stared at her with his dark, tugged-down eyebrows and made eye contact with her as she tried to wipe off his stained, wet pants. It would be a lie to say her touch didn't feel pleasant, but it could only distract him for a few seconds or so--and that was all it took.
Laele lifted from her seat in a whirl of colored leaves, her gravity leaving her temporarily as she floated, light as a feather, among the revelers. They cooed and called and cheered as she went, as if on a string, towards the Fairy King. She came to rest on his surprisingly soft lap and he let his hands come to rest on her shoulders. His voice was soft, floral, alluring. "And look at you, child. How many men have you seduced yet?"