Rating: M

Author's Note: Since my latest story post was so dismal and depressing, I decided to dredge up some sexy, fun bits for you guys. This was the original ending I wrote for Revelry. Ultimately, I changed the direction of the story because I couldn't come up with enough scenes to make a complete story for the original idea, but I still loved this ending.

Obviously, I wrote all this before the new developments in the series where Wormwood leaves Cedric. In this version, they are still master and familiar.

The first two parts are just little snippets of scenes I'd already wrote out. The third piece is an alternate lemon. ;)

Revelry: Alternate Story-line

A/N: This begins right after "Daphne" and Cedric have spent Beltane together. As you may remember, in the posted story Cedric goes back to his tower where Wormwood inelegantly informs our hapless sorcerer of the identity of his solstice lover. In my original idea, I had Wormwood keeping Sofia's identity to himself. Wormwood leaves a clueless Cedric to sleep off his hangover and flies out to find and confront Sofia. He finds her walking home from Lucinda's house:

"Of course, Princess," Wormwood murmured, far too accommodating for Sofia's liking. She kept walking, making it a bare two steps before his voice rang out, clear and crisp with meaning, "Or should I call you Daphne?"

She spun around, eyes wide. The raven had a decidedly gloating look on his sly face. Sofia tried to swallow, but her throat had dried up. "He knows?" She managed to croak.

"Cedric?" Wormwood guffawed. "That dimwit? Of course not. But you can't fool an animal's senses, Princess. He came home reeking of you."

Sofia flushed from the roots of her hairs surely down to the top of her boots. She had never taken Wormwood into account in her haphazard plan. She pushed past her embarrassment, pushing in close to where the bird perched on the fence post. "You can't tell him, please."

His eyes narrowed down to slits. "I do not need you to tell me what is best for Cedric. He's been my charge for over two decades."

Sofia stopped at that. He made it sound like of the two Wormwood was the older one, in charge of a ward.

"I'm his familiar," the raven continued. "He may have created me, but he is mine to guard and guide. I may chide him, I may even disparage him at times, but I would do nothing that would truly hurt him."

Large black wings unfurled as he took flight in a rustle of feathers and indignation. Sofia watched after his abrupt departure. She also got the distinct impression that Wormwood was angry with her. She'd seen disapproval for her actions before, even disappointment, but the raven was good and truly mad at her for her deception. Had Wormwood meant he had to tell Cedric the truth, or that he wouldn't dare? Both had implications she didn't have the fortitude to contemplate at the moment. Somehow, she got the sense that it was the former.

A/N: In theory the story was supposed to go like this – Wormwood and Sofia both know she lied to Cedric, but Cedric has no clue that Daphne was actually Sofia. Over the next few weeks things between Cedric and Sofia are strained while Cedric pines for the unknown Daphne while Sofia alternated between pining for the man right in front of her and despairing that he's fallen for "someone else" and she can't admit that Daphne is actually her. Wormwood takes the opportunity to tease and taunt Sofia about her deception before finally growing sick of Cedric's moping and Sofia's omnipresent guilt and decided to intervene. This was a scene of him trying to impress the truth of Cedric's feelings towards the princess:

"You saw Cedric earlier that day, had you not?"

"Yes," she answered cautiously, wondering where he was going with this line of questioning.

"And where did you tell him you were going to be that night?"

"With Lucinda, which wasn't a total lie, but also with her coven, which was a lie."

"Yes," he hissed, looking at her with a weight of meaning she didn't understand.

"So," he said at length, his lack of patience bleeding into his tone, "where did Cedric think you were going to be on Beltane?"

"With Lucinda's coven," she repeated, becoming impatient herself. She still didn't get what he was driving at.

Wormwood sighed, slapping a wing over his eyes in obvious exasperation. "And I thought Cedric was thick. Think, Princess! Where did Cedric think you were going to be on Beltane?"

"With Lucinda's coven," she all but shouted, becoming angry.

"Yes, and what would Cedric think you be doing with this coven?"

She shook her head, letting out a huff of frustration. But the question made her pause. Her parents expected that Marla and the witches would keep a careful watch on her. Sofia knew the gathering was harmless, so much more so than the Revelry. But what would Cedric think she was doing?

What would he think she was doing ... on Beltane ... in the woods ... with a coven of witches and collection of warlocks and other assorted pagans. She remembered his shocked expression in the village when she'd told him that her parents approved, when she emphasized that she was grown— a woman that didn't need their approval or permission. Her eyes widened.

"Yes," Wormwood sighed, seeing her finally make the connection.

Cedric's voice, pitched to a surly snarl ghosted through her memory. "It's Beltane. What do you think she's doing?"

"He'd think I was, well doing exactly what I did do, just with someone else. Do you mean to tell me that Cedric— That the woman he was trying to forget was …"

A/N: And on to the good stuff … So, with Wormwood spilling the beans, Sofia enlists his help executing a plan to finally reveal her true identity to Cedric. She has Wormwood deliver a letter to Cedric from "Daphne" saying that she (Daphne) hasn't been able to stop thinking about him and wants him to meet her back at The Burgundy Rose Inn. (Remember that "Daphne" always knew his identity, but he didn't know hers, so it makes sense that she could send him a letter.) Now here was where I ultimately couldn't quite pull off the tap dance that Cedric is eager to meet this woman that (in his mind) isn't Sofia. Theoretically, at this point I would have wanted to craft a storyline that made it feasible for Cedric to be hopeful, be it doubtful, that Daphne is Sofia. And so we raise the curtain on Cedric and Daphne, complete with blond hair and mask and Freezenburg accent, meeting for the "first time" since Beltane. Both are quite impatient for the other. Some lines you might recognize as they made their way into the final posts of Revelry. This starts a bit in medias res …

Beneath her dress he found only bare flesh. No undergarments to impede the impatient path of his fingers up the interior of her thigh.

"So wet," he groaned, parting the slick petals of her lips. "Already?"

"I couldn't stop thinking about you. Wanting your hands on my skin. Wanting you inside me again."

He growled, tugging her dress down none too gently. His own clothing, she helped him peel away in the relentless pursuit for more skin.

Naked, panting and eager, she pushed him down to sit on the bed's edge. Straddling his lap, her feminine folds rubbed along the underside of his shaft making them both groaned at the friction and the heat.

"Who are you really?" he pleaded. "Tell me, please."

She stared into his hazel eyes, holding them with her own sapphire gaze. It was a risk, but one she thought worth it. "You know who I am."

She saw it then, staring so intently as she was. Recognition, followed by hope, before it was all crushed under doubt. He lowered his gaze, shaking him head, but she wouldn't relent, rolling against his heat, cradling his face in her hands for a kiss. She nodded against his mouth, lips brushing. "Yes."

He wrapped an arm around her waist, lifting her up before settling her down atop his manhood. She moaned as he breached her, rocking upward before sliding back down, taking him in inch by hard, hot inch.

"Oh gods," her eyes fluttered closed as her neck tipped back, mouth open on a pleasure-filled moan. "I've wanted this for so long."

He pressed his face against her neck, kissing, breathing hard against her skin. His hand gripped her thighs. His breath hissed out, speaking in half- groan, half-prayer, "Sofia."

She gasped, arms tightening around his neck. His hand reached, searching for something. She felt the tap of his wand to the top of her head. "Incantationem revelare."

The magic slid down her spine, breaking goosebumps along her arms, zinging through all the sensitive places of her body. Her hair lengthened, tickling down to the middle of her back. He dropped his wand, burying his hand in her thick auburn locks. "Cedric," she moaned, her own voice shocking her slightly with the level of need reflected in it.

He whimpered against her neck, panting with more than exertion. He kissed her skin, reverent, moving impatiently up her throat, over her chin before capturing her mouth with his. The hand in her hair held her to him, fingers tightening until she moaned from the slight pain, but it only bespoke of his passion for her. Her.

His fingers plucked free the ties of her mask, tearing it off, tossing it carelessly to the floor. He pulled back to look at her; she trembled from her seat on his lap, his thickness still seated inside her. He swallowed, the motion causing his throat to bob. A hand cupped her cheek, thumb brushing softly. For a moment he looked at her as if caught in a spell, as if unable to believe the truth before him. Sofia raised her hand, curling her fingers around his wrist and the spell broke abruptly.

The hand that caressed her cheek slid roughly into her hair again and he used that grip to pull her into a savage kiss. Without warning he drew her to the side and down, moving over top of her. Sofia found herself on her back, Cedric hitching her leg up to cradle his hip. His sudden ferocity stole her breath. Eagerly, she wrapped her legs around him, weaving her fingers into his hair. She could barely keep track of all the emotions flowing through her.

"I wanted it to be you," he groaned, never missing a beat as his hips plunged in a strident tempo, making her gasp. "I hoped, but I didn't dare believe."

Sofia couldn't respond, limbs tightening as he worked her towards the precipice of a shattering climax. She choked on a sob of pleasure, blinking up at his face hovering over her own watching her closely.

"That's it, my darling," he breathed, "Come for me. I want to hear you."

She closed her eyes, unable to contemplate his scrutiny, knowing he was watching every flicker across her face as she came. "Cedric," she moaned out his name, long and low, her voice cracking. She arched up into him, trusting him to hold her together as she splintered apart. Uncontestable sounds of pleasure spilled from her lips, calling out with abandon.

His hips slowed, stirring her insides to a languid heat. He smoothed a damp strand of hair from her brow, kissing her cheek. Sofia panted, looking up at him, awed by the reverent look in his eyes. "You," he breathed, "have proven quite the devious, naughty girl, Princess."

She shivered at the way her title rolled off his tongue. "Perhaps," she paused to lick her lips, as he was still thrusting slowly in and out of her, "Perhaps you'll have to devise some manner of punishment for my transgressions, Mister Cedric."

He bent his head, mouthing her ear. "I see tying you to a bed taught you nothing."

"Oh, I wouldn't say that." Her voice caught on a gasp as she hips raised up in a plea for more. He was working her slowly but inexorably towards that shattering precipice again. The playful banter died in her throat under the sudden need to confess. "I lied," she said whispered, prompting him to release her ear and stop the torturous tempo of his hips. He looked down on her in question. "I'd never— That is, I lied about not being a virgin. That was my first time."

He wrapped his arms about her, hugging her securely to his chest. His breath warmed her ear. "I must have hurt you. Why didn't you say anything?"

"I didn't want you to stop," she whispered honestly. "It only hurt a little, then it was wonderful."

She tipped her head up, wanting him to move again. Heat simmered in her veins. She took the edge of his ear between her teeth, nipping before breathing out in a sultry whisper. "I was telling the truth, though, when I said I haven't stopped thinking about being with you since. The other day in the garden, I wanted so badly to push you back into the ferns." He groaned, his hips beginning to rock. She went on, painting the picture of her fantasy with her words, "I imagined pulling your robes aside and tearing open the buttons of your pants. I wanted to take you in my mouth, right there."

He picked up her narrative, as she began to shake. "I'd lift your skirts, shucking off your undoubtedly expensive drawers, and slide into you just as I am now. I'd make you come screaming, right there on the grass."

She moaned, the real fantasy that he wanted her as much as she wanted him. Heavy lidded, she gazed up at him with desire glazing her eyes. "Well, you have me now."

His wicked smile curled her toes. "That I do."

Without preamble, he leaned back on his knees and drew her legs open. Sofia gasped, abashed to be so exposed, but unable to care when his thumb began to draw tight circles around the bud of her clitoris. She clutched at the bedspread beneath, her body twisting with simmering pleasure that built and built. It climbed within, straining against her skin for release.

Cedric watched like a man unable to look away. "You have no idea how often I've imagined you just like this."

Gods, the velvety rumbled of his voice, thick with desire— His words wrought havoc on her mind as the undulations of his hips ravished her body. She surrendered herself completely to his mastery, abandoning any pretense of modesty or indifference. His, all she wanted to be was his.

"Ye— Gods— Cedric," she sobbed, pressing her cheek deep against the bedding as she cried out.

Her legs dropped as he leaned down over her, abandoning his own fight for patience. The vigor of his thrusts stole any breath she had left. She reached for him, her panting mouth hovered a bare inch from his own. His brow twisted in an expression bordering on pain. "Oh, my sweet Sofia," he moaned as he shuttered, surging warmly inside her.

She trembled with him as the world tilted off its axis. Dizzy and gasping for air, she welcomed the heavy weight of his slender body as he dropped down over her. Chest to chest, she counted their heartbeats, basking in softening heat of their union. The calm invited a softer hum of pleasure, but in it she sensed a certain danger of clarity.

When Cedric finally raised his head, an unreadable expression darkening his face, she bit her lip, awaiting judgment. With the heat of sex fading on their skin, she knew he might feel quite different about her deception.

"You," her growled, his voice rough, making her freeze with a shiver of fear. "You," he said again, and this time she noticed a curious tremble in his voice. His shoulders hitched, and she realized he was laughing. A delirious chuckle rumbled out of his throat. "You let me tie you to a bed."

She pressed her knuckles to her mouth, relief making her a bit hysterical as well. She giggled. "I did, didn't I?"

"I thought for sure—" He cut off, not finishing, but she remembered the quick flash of disappointment across his face when she'd agreed to being tethered to the corners of the bed.

"You thought for sure that I would never agree to such a thing."

He shrugged, the gesture telling her it was so.

She sobered, looking at him with sincere intent. "I am sorry, though, for deceiving you. I just thought you'd never— That if you knew it was me— But then Wormwood told me how you felt about me ..."

"Wormwood? What has he got to do with this?"

"He knew," she answered simply. "From the very first morning, he knew it was me. He could smell me on you."

"That ungrateful, feathered bastard. But then I expect such behavior from him, but you? This is quite the shocking deception. I should be furious with you."

She bit her lip, hoping he wasn't. "I suppose."

"You suppose?" His voice dropped into an almost sneer. "You know damn well what you did was dishonest."

She pulled the sheets up to her neck, unsure what to feel. She wasn't certain how he actually felt about it. If he was merely teasing her, or if his sincere ire was indeed growing the more he thought about it.

"Oh no, you don't, you little liar." He grasped the sheets in a firm hand, drawing them off her. Before she could think he was on top of her, hips between her legs, palms planted on either side of her head. She couldn't help the tiny moan that slipped from her at having him pressed so intimately against her still tingling flesh. A smirk drew up one side of his mouth. "I believe there was talk of punishment for your considerable transgression. I'll make you a bargain. You let me dole out your punishment, as I see fit, and without complaint. And we'll drop the subject and never need speak of it again."

Her eyes narrowed with suspicion. She knew better than anyone how Cedric could hold a grudge. "You mean you won't hold it over my head?"

"Nope, we'll consider the matter settled."

The nervous feeling didn't ease. He was being far too agreeable for her liking. "What kind of punishment?"

The laugh that kicked through his diaphragm jerked his hips against her and she hissed, the heat of his body igniting her still sensitive flesh. They'd just had sex— hot, fast, satisfying sex. How could she still be aroused? "Oh, no, I'm not telling you. You didn't tell me who you were, so I'm not telling you this."

"But," she asked carefully, perhaps, hopefully, "it does involve more sex?"

He lowered his head, running his lips along her throat in a slow caress. She shivered, her breasts tightening.

"It does," he drawled slowly, before his teeth closed over her pulse, biting gently, sucking. She cried out in startled pleasure. His hips pressed against her. He wasn't hard, but the heat of his body was more than enough to draw forth her own desire. He pulled away after a long moment. "So, do you accept my offer?"

She nodded at once, mindless, desperate. She'd do anything as long as he kept touching her. "Yes. Yes."

"Good," he purred, just before he pulled himself off of her, leaving her cold and shaking on the bed. Her eyes cut to his, confusion and hurt reflected there. He was already pulling on his pants. "I didn't say here. I want you in my own bed. Now get dressed."

He went about collecting his clothing, shrugging into his shirt and quickly doing up the buttons. Sofia swung her feet over the side of the bed, disoriented with desire, disappointed and embarrassed that he could so easily ignore her naked body when she was on fire for him. She pulled her dress on, holding the loose bodice over her breasts. The laces gapped open in the back as she searched for her underwear. Cedric had already drawn on his robes, leaving them untied and his vest unbuttoned. He shoved his tie into his pocket, picking up a frilly bundle of satin. Sofia recognized it as her drawers. She put out her hand, but he stuffed them into his other pocket with a knowing smirk. With a flick of his wand he righted the room while she was still fumbling with her shoes, her dress still untied.

"Ready then?"

"No," she scowled, starting to feel unkindly towards him and his blasé attitude.

He merely strode over, embracing her in a tight, unexpected hug. Her arms remained crushed between them. If she loosened her hold her dress would fall off. He laid a sharp, hard kiss against her mouth. It took a disorienting moment and the indignant squawk of a raven to alert her that their surroundings had changed.

Cedric released her just as quickly as he'd taken hold of her a moment before, striding across the room to throw open the window. She realized with an acute sense of humiliation that they were back in the castle, in Cedric's workshop, and Wormwood was glaring at her, taking in her rumpled hair and half drawn on dress.

"Out!" Cedric barked, and for a moment she wasn't sure if he was speaking to her. But the raven's put-upon sigh just before his wings unfurled told her he'd meant the command for his familiar. Wormwood swooped through the window, grumbling something unkind as he went. Cedric closed the window with a bang, locking it for good measure. "Ungrateful bird," her muttered, "lucky I don't pluck and roast him. Knew the whole time."

He finally turned to Sofia, finding her standing in the middle of his workshop, her hair rumpled, her dress slipping off, and her eyes much too large. She looked on the verge of hyperventilation. Was it bad that her distress was turning him on just a little? Okay, a lot. Silly girl, he chided mentally, didn't she know she had nothing to fear from him?

He beckoned her towards the stairs leading to his chambers. "This way," he sang, enjoying this far more than he should. Once ensconced inside his rooms, he inspected his headboard with a keen eye.

Sofia's voice came from behind him, small and terribly unlike herself. "Are you really mad at me?"

He turned, assessing her with a calculating raise of his right brow. She dropped her eyes, unable to hold his gaze as guilty tears prickle her eyes. He sighed, his posture loosening as he came forward to stoke her arms in his hands. "No," he said, making her look up with renewed hope. "I am not truly angry with you."

She sighed with relief, easing into his hold.

"But," he chided, making her tense again, "you should know by now that I have a considerable capacity for pettiness. So while I am not mad at you," he dropped his chin to catch her gaze, holding her eyes so there would be no misunderstanding, "make no mistake that I am going to make you pay."

The smile that slide across his face then had her trembling with a mixture of fear and excitement. It was the smile of the morally corrupt. Of a man that could use her body against her. It was the smile of a villain.

He drew the yellow silk length of his tie from his pocket. "Now lie down and put your hands over your head."

His tone brooked no argument, his eyes worryingly hard. She gulped. "I'm not sure that I want to."

He paused at that, brows drawing together on a frown. Perhaps he played his part a bit too well at times. "Good Gods, girl, I'm not going to hurt you."

She bit her lips and he realized she'd thought of it, even if only for a moment. His hands went to her shoulders again, stroking. He pressed his face towards hers and she tilted her chin up, meeting his kiss. It was a good sign. He kissed her tenderly, keeping the caress shallow. "I would never do anything you don't want me to. Tell me to stop and I will stop, I promise you."

"Of course," she nodded eagerly. Too eagerly. "I know that."

"Liar."

"No," she insisted, some of her old fire lighting her eyes, turning them a steely blue. "I trust you."

He couldn't help kissing her then, drawing her against him to mate their mouths together as if sealing a vow. In a way they were, his promise and her trust. When he pulled away she was relieved to see a sparkle of amusement in his golden eyes. "Good, now it's time for your punishment, you naughty girl."

Author's Note: And what followed after that was the scene included in the final chapters of Revelry, so no need to repeat it again here. There is another alternative, alternative route I almost went with which I'll probably post here next. It involved the more angst filled route I almost went of Cedric turning Daphne down in the middle of their night together when guilt gets the best of him. (All these different routes, are you guys starting to see why it's so damn hard for me to complete anything. :P)