Rae is irate that she's been forced to marry Sir Galwind. But she soon discovers that life with the reclusive noble comes with certain benefits.
Rae sobbed into her pillow. The tears had soaked a broad circle into the feathers, but still the tears flowed freely.
They were tears of confusion and rage. The rage was at her forced marriage to the strange, dark lord of the island manor. The confusion was at her mixed feelings of the past few months as he came to visit her, bringing her gifts and consideration.
Well, courting her father, more like it, who had gone into the stupid plan from the first instant that Sir Galwind appeared at their door. She was not ready to marry, did not like the preposterous, strutting, oddly quiet gentleman with the strangely engaging eyes....
She shook her head, sending a spray of auburn hair flying about her shoulders. She jumped up and grabbed a book from her nightstand and hurled it at the door. "Cur!" she screamed, wondering if he was waiting on the other side of the door. Then she ran to the window and looked out at the ocean spreading out far below her. The tiny waves beat against the harsh stone shore. A cold wind pried at the window, as if it, too wished to gain entrance to her bedroom.
She whirled to the door and screamed again, "Dastardly cur!"
It was inevitable that she would venture downstairs; there was no food or water in her room. So she crept down in the dark of night, feeling her way slowly, finding her way by the moonlight shining through the window. She crept into the kitchen, looking furtively back to see if anyone had heard her.
With a gasp, she saw that he was sitting at the servant's table, gazing out at the moon.
She almost turned and ran, but she was very hungry. So she came into the kitchen, furtively drying her eyes, and then fixing him with a defiant gaze.
"Is there food here, or is it your intention to starve me into submission?" Her voice seemed loud even to her.
Sir Galwind jumped slightly, then turned. His eyes looked very sad, but now they brightened. "Oh... I thought you might be hungry, so I had the cook set aside some bread and cheese for you. And I'll fetch you some water." Then his gaze glanced down. "Or perhaps some wine..."
"Water will be fine," she said, and brushed past him into the huge, empty dining room. She sat at the long table there and looked out the broad windows at the moonlight dancing on the ocean there. "And bring some light," she shouted. "What sort of person sits by himself in the dark?"
He came out a moment later with the bread and cheese, and few other assortments from the larder. He set them down, left to get the water and a candle.
She began picking at the food, and gazed about the room. Even by moonlight, she could tell the huge room was well maintained. But it was oddly out of style, as if it had been a popular place once, but now saw no company. Her gaze drifted down, as she supposed that she had left behind the world of gaiety, laughter, and dancing.
Then her eye caught a small bronze statue standing diffidently in one corner. It was a young woman or a nymph spreading her arms wide as the wind took her. Her skirt was billowing, and her scarves were swirling around her. In the moonlight, Rae could not make out the expression on the statue.
She caught her breath as her new husband returned with a lit candelabra and a pitcher of water. She quickly turned away, but not before he remarked on the statue.
"It's a fine piece," he said. "In your father's visits here, it was one of his favorites." Then we quickly closed his lips, as if he had said something wrong.
"My father..." she murmurred.
"Listen, he's quite well, I assure you." He sat in the chair next to her and placed a hand on hers. "He won't be lonely. Tommorrow I am sending two maids to live with him and care for him. His greatest wish was that you be provided for...."
She jerked her hand away from his and turned away. Slowly, he stood and walked to the far side of the room, his head bowed.
He cleared his throat, trying to start again. "I know that I am not the best host. With my responsibilities, things have become somewhat... vacant... here in Galwind manor. But that is because of my neglect, not because of my choice."
She laughed, harshly. "Responsibilities? You have no responsibilities. It's well known that my father runs the county. All you do is sit in your strange castle gazing at the ocean."
A smile flickered across his lips. "Ah, but that's...." He stopped, and then sat at the chair nearest him, on the other side of the long table from her. "I'm afraid that even in the time I have been courting you, I have been as free as I could about my past, my thoughts, and dreams. But there is one secret that I have not shared with you."
Rae glanced up and looked at him, with a certain nervousness. Would he spring furry ears and claws and devour her? Was he a foul creature who wandered the streets at night, looking to feed on the living blood of the villagers there?
He glanced up, and quickly interpreted her look. "Oh! No, it's nothing sinister. Actually, it's a charge that was given to our family some centuries ago. But we keep it quiet... for reasons of defense of the kingdom."
She cocked a stern eyebrow at him, but let him continue.
He sighed. "You see, this coast is a major shipping lane. And if the winds go foul, it could wreak havoc on the entire northern population of our kingdom." He was clearly nervous now, and fiddled with his hands.
"So?" Rae asked.
"Well, our family has a certain... talent...." He smiled slightly.
Rae humphed.
"Watch," he said.
He raised his hands slightly, and started waving them in small circles. As if following the movement, a slight breeze picked up in the room, causing a faint tinkling of various loose objects in the room. He pulled the circle of his hands tighter, and the breeze tightened in the center of the room. Then as he pulled his hands in tighter, the breeze compacted into a shimmering cone in one corner.
Suddenly, the cone caught some napkins set aside there, and they went flying into the air. Startled, Rae gasped. The spell broken, the napkins drifted down to the ground.
She turned to him, feeling slightly flushed. But she made her gaze stern and said, "You are some kind of illusionist. A trickster."
"Oh, no." He said, rising. "It's quite real. And that was fairly small compared to what I usually do. Here, watch this."
He raised his hands as a concert pianist might as the start of a piece, then brought them down. He played his fingers on an imaginary keyboard in the air before him. And the flames of the candelabra bobbed and danced to the tune his fingers played.
Rae giggled, then quickly caught herself. She looked at him defiantly. When she looked for her napkin, she found it had dropped from her hand, unnoticed. She looked at him expectantly. "I have dropped my napkin."
He smiled, and brought his hand over to the side table where his minuature cyclone had dropped them before. With a gesture, one lifted up and floated across the room. When it got close, it landed in a heap on her plate.
He blushed. "Sorry," he said. "I am working on my aim."
She lifted the napkin, and dabbed at her lips. Was that the trace of a smile? If so, it quickly vanished. She looked at him sternly. "But if it's not an illusion, how is it done?" she asked.
He sauntered over somewhat closer to her. With a casual wave of his hand he said, "Well, let's just say that our family has always been friendly with... well... certain spirits of the air."
At this Rae laughed out loud. "Oh, please!" she said. "I am not some child to be fooled by silly stories of dryads and air spirits."
"But you saw for yourself... how else would I...." he seemed at a loss.
She shook her head and turned back to her small meal.
"Very well," he said. "Since you are family now, I can show you." She turned and saw him straighten up and raise his hand in a commanding gesture. There was a stirring in the room, and then, from the corner with the bronze statue, a faint tinkling sound. The wind picked up, and then something peeked out from behind the statue.
Rae leapt to her her feet, and despite herself, ran to grasp his arm. "What is it? A ghost?"
He smiled. "No, a spirit of the air." A faint figure that seemed more of a shimmering in the air than an actual body rose from the corner. It looked like a young woman, her skirts billowing, her scarves blowing around her.
"The statue!" Rae exclaimed.
Sir Galwind nodded. "Yes. My great-grandfather did a fairly good job of capturing her essence, even if it is in bronze."
The young woman rose into the room. She did not cast off any light, but looked like a gentle shimmering in the room. Clear, but with indistinct edges, there was something peaceful and calm about her. Rae asked, "Does she have a name?"
Galwind shook his head. "Not really. The air spirits have definate personalities, but not an identity like you or me. This beautiful spirt is one that I know from spring. She brings the breezes that blows pollen to the bees, and causes the young buds of tree blossoms to rustle. Feel her; there is a certain warmth to her."
Rae reached out, and the spirit blew past her. It was true; there was a faint warmth to the shimmering image before her.
Then, with a wicked smile, the spirit turned and rushed past the candleabra; instantly the flames flickered out, and the room was bathed in darkness. Without thinking, Rae gasped Galwind tightly. Then she stepped back aghast. She picked up a slice of cold turkey from her plate and smacked him in the face with it.
"Hey!" he protested, but she could she his smile in the moonlight.
"That is for tricking me into your arms," she huffed.
"But I didn't... it was...."
"All right, even if I believe all this silliness about air spirits, what does it have to me? Why don't you just stay in this horrid castle and play with your airy tarts?"
He sat down two chairs away. "Because they don't laugh, or sing, or jump into your arms when they are startled." He smiled. A slilence lingered. "Besides, I know about...."
She cut him off, perhaps too sharply. "There are many other girls in town who laugh *and* sing *and* jump into your arms whether they are startled or not. I don't see why you need to destroy my life, take me from my poor invalid father...."
He cleared his throat. He _sounded_ like he was blushing. "I have seen you on the hill."
She drew in a sharp breath and bit her lip.
"You see, whith the talent I have comes certain... interests... and when I saw you...."
In the moonlight, she had a funny expression, as if she both wanted to look at him, and did not.
He raised a hand. "Another talent I have is sharp eyesight. So when I saw you sneak onto my land... and go to the Windy Hill...." Her gaze cast about the room, as if she was afraid of what would happen if she were to look at him. "The look of ecstasy when the wind caught your dress, made it billow...." He raised a hand and a breeze rustled across the floor and plucked at the hem of her dress.
"Stop!" she said, standing. But she was smiling, and there was a strange intensity in her eyes.
He stood, and stepped closer. Sighing, he said, "I confess that seeing you there, I did bring in the wind to...." He paused. "I hope you didn't mind."
She laughed, then bit a knuckle. "Oh, no, I didn't mind."
He stepped up beside her. "But you were always so far away.... there is so much more I can do...."
She murmurred quietly, "Like what?"
He placed one hand on the small of her back. She gasped. He said, "Have you ever heard the legend of what happens when a young woman exposes her breasts to the moon?"
She smiled, and swayed her body in a shy motion. Then, before he could speak again, she unlaced her corselet. It fell to the floor. She lifted her blouse over her head. He helped her pull it off.
Startled, he stood blinking at her. She had an even nicer figure than he'd imagined. Her breasts were round and shapely, the nipples standing pertly to salute the moon. When she saw his stunned look, she smiled and said, "Well... ?"
He knelt beside her, and placed his hands gently on her hips. Then he blew gently across her nipples.
At first there was nothing but the coolness of his breath, but then something stirred. The nipples lifted, then the curve of her breasts pushed forward. As she watched, her breasts swelled. They lifted from her chest, becoming rounder and larger by the moment. She laughed, her eyes alight, and brought her hands up to feel them.
Immediately, waves of pleasure washed through her. She grabbed his hand and slapped it on her right breast. As it continued to balloon out, she closed her eyes and pushed her body against him. When she opened her eyes, they were huge! They had grown to the size of small casks, and were still growing. She burst out in a lusty laugh. "Stop!" she cried, "too big!" But still she shoved the inflated tit into his face.
His toungue flicked over her nipple, but then the growth stopped. His head emerged on the other side of her huge cleveage. "Yes," he sputtered, his tounge seemingly out of joint. "We should be careful, otherwise... you know...."
Her eyes were alight, "otherwise what?" she asked.
"Well, you know...."
"No, I don't!" She said. She stepped away from him, a teasing smile on her face, "Tell me!" She bumped up against the edge of the table.
He grabbed her waist and hoisted up onto the table. "Well, you know...."
She smacked him on the top on the head, laughing. "Tell me!"
"Here, I'll show you."
She felt her dress being lifted. Then he felt his lips on her bare thighs, kissing her. Was he going to kiss her there? No... he was going to....
She groaned as the pressure suddenly flooded her stomache. She lay back on the table moaning loudly. Her hands on her taught belly felt the rise when it came. "I can't see anything!" she cried. "My breasts...."
"You'll see," he murmurred, then went back to work.
He was right; her hands were being forced apart by her growing tummy, and pretty soon, she could see the globe peeking up from between her breasts. But still she grew, until she was the size of a wine barrel. As she squirmed with pleasure, her inflated body bounced slightly in the breeze.
Suddenly he was up and beside her. At some point he had lost his trousers, and was doing pretty well in the inflation area himself. He rushed around to the other side of the table, and leaned over to smother her face in kisses. It was the only way he could reach her; her inflated bulk blocked him from the other side.
"Oh, my love, my love," he whispered, "I have waited so long...."
"But the servants?"
"I sent them away for the weekend."
"But... here... on the dining room table?"
"It's *my* dining room table!"
She stopped and looked at him, then said huskily, "*Our* dining room table."
The old man in the moon had a strange view that night. What looked like a globe with rather delicate legs sprouting from it sat atop his friend Sir Galwind's dining table. Occasionaly, the legs would kick and thrash, as if in ecstasy. Then sir Galwind himself would rush around to that side of the table, and wrap his arms around that globe. After a bit, he would run back around to the other side of the table. Each time he made the circut, he lost another piece of clothing.
It probably didn't seem the most efficient way to go about things, at least not to that age-old observer. But it wouldn't have been the strangest thing that old fellow had seen.