Chapter 9

Peter and I rose and hurried to the door. Tibbs backed away, stumbling a bit as we flashed passed him. We ran to the entrance of the hideout to find that the Lost Boys had been subdued by a tall man in rich clothes. His hair, which was long and fine, floated about him as if under water. He turned his face as we came closer. Peter bared his teeth, his eye-teeth forming into sharp points. I never noticed that he had the capability to produce fangs. I assumed it to be another faerie thing. I can tell you though, I was becoming more and more jaded by the ways of the fae. I am not and never will be, however, jaded to their beauty. Standing in front of me yet again, Peter tensed and braced for an attack.

"What are you doing here!?" He snarled.

I was unsure what to do. The stubborn side of me saw what this stranger did to the boys and wanted revenge. So, much to Peter's distress, I stepped out from behind him and spoke up.

"How dare you come here and do this! You will explain yourself or so help me I will do to you what you have done to them." My voice was calm but firm.

The man's grey eyes slid over me and twinkled as he smiled most beguilingly.

"I really did not mean to harm them. They were just in the way. There is no need for violence I assure you. They are not injured, merely sleeping. And as for you Pan," he turned to Peter. "I just had to see what Mab was fussing over after the two of you left her court. Do you know she reported to me your newest toy? She was very adamant about her and so I simply had to take gander myself. And I'm pleased that I did. What a fine specimen you brought, young Pan."

The man's voice was like water, flowing and relaxing. He came over to me and bowed at the waist. I watched as his liquid hair fell over his shoulders and the ends float in their invisible submersion. I was unable to take my eyes off of the mystical shade of creamy silver that donned his fair crown. It was as beautiful a color as Peter's red.

"It is my pleasure to meet you. I am Finvarra, High King of the Faerie court of Daoine Sidhe."

The silken fabric of his tunic rustled as it creased into the bend of his hip. The hue was a light blue with whitish designs similar to elegant filigree. The collar and sleeves were bordered with broad strips of gold and silver threading.

I blushed at his formality and tried my best, albeit clumsily, to curtsey. I won't go into detail of how that looked…it's too embarrassing. Hey I'm a modern girl thrown into a world where men act like knights of lore, don't blame me for my lack of medieval etiquette. The closest I got to the Middle Ages was going to Medieval Times with a group of friends one Friday night. But despite that, my mind raced as I tried to sift through the many filing cabinets in my brain as to where his name sounded so familiar. Then it struck.

"Um…I think I've heard of you before," I said quickly pushing aside fond memories and recalling my previous years of Faerie study while the little me inside my head grabbed the correct file and jumped happily up and down. "You're the king who steals human women and sleeps them right?" I immediately regretted saying that.

If I could've bashed my head against a rock then I would have. Finvarra's handsome face lit up in a bemused smile. I was so humiliated! I sounded like an eager tourist who went to Ireland with the hopes of actually finding faeries at night! And he was a king no less! Uggggg! I needed serious help.

Finvarra brought a pale hand to cover his mouth, obviously hiding his laugh. The beautifully embroidered cuff of his sleeve slid back from his wrist revealing an expanse of milky white skin. I observed that, like Peter, Finvarra's arm bore no hair. I suppose it had to do with the faerie image of being perfect and fair.

"Forgive my confusion, but I had to think of the stories you were referring to. Yes, it is true that many believe me to be some lecherous fiend who takes mortal maidens to his court to deflower them. But I assure you, I only did it once."

I blinked. I stuck my tongue into my cheek thinking of how to respond.

"Once huh?"

The faerie nodded.

"Who was the lucky girl?" I Might as well find out for kicks.

Finvarra looked towards the sky, his stormy eyes far away.

"A young woman named Freya."

The faerie king seemed happy as he spoke her name. At his feet, I saw that the boys were recovering from their earlier traumas. They rubbed their heads and sat up looking groggy. Peter hastened over to them and told them to go back inside and wait. As their little bodies trailed back into the hideout, the red-haired fae cleared his throat.

"What do you want Finvarra?"

The king answered, "Whatever do you mean young Pan?"

I saw Peter's emeralds thin as his eyes narrowed. "You came here to see her. You have. Now leave."

Finvarra chuckled. His regal bearing was not altered by Peter's rudeness, a fact that irritated Peter greatly. For being a fellow faerie, I wondered why he hated his 'kin' so to speak. Finvarra seemed nice, buut then again…what did I know.

"Come now Paedhar, you know the customs concerning our kind. When one of superior standing arrives at another's house they in turn must welcome their guest with lodging, food and drink. And by the looks of your establishment and by the plumpness of your Lost Boys, I'd say that there is plenty to go around."

Ahhhhh, I was beginning to see why Peter wanted Finvarra to leave—he was a moocher.

Peter gritted his teeth and tensed his neck. "Yes Finvarra, I am well aware."

Then, much to my surprise, Peter stepped back, bowed slightly and begrudgingly waved an arm to the front entrance.

"Please come inside and don't stay."

The faerie king grinned and swept passed Peter. I was about to say something when Finvarra set his arm across my waist.

"Now, my lady, you simply must regale me with tales of your homeland. I have traveled far and would much like to hear a good story whilst I dine," he glanced back at Peter who was now risen and scowling quite darkly at the nobleman. "Indeed! I will dine and drink to my merriment at Pan's expense of course."

Finvarra's bell-like voice rose in laughter as we both went inside and I was unable to see the festering irritation spreading across Peter's face.