| A WORK OF STARGÅTE SG-1 FAN-FICTION—by Van ©2010
THE FEY WORLD
The Darkling scout hovered above
the clearing, staring intently at the forest floor. She
was dressed in a bandeau and loincloth of linen tie-dyed in
shades of gray, rust-brown, and black—mostly black. A
body-harness of black rope was bound around her torso, anchoring
a small water-skin, a small bundle of field rations, and several
neatly wrapped coils of black cord. Her raven hair was
parted down the middle and plaited in two long braids that
dangled to either side of her intent face. A quarterstaff
was in her right hand and a coil of black rope was slung,
bandoleer-fashion, over her left shoulder.
The object of her interest was a small pile of fist-sized,
purple berries. She eased lower and used the tip of her
staff to nudge aside a large leaf, revealing yet another
berry. This one had a small bite taken out of its side,
revealing a peachy-pink interior. By the size and shape of
the bite, it was the work of a fairy, and the flesh of the fruit
was still moist and fresh.
Suddenly, a noose of brown rope flew through the air and
tightened around the Darkling, pinning her left arm to her side
and trapping her right wing! As the scout pivoted and
dropped to the forest floor, the fairy who'd thrown the lasso
deftly looped a coil of the same rope around the Darkling's left
ankle and vaulted across her thrashing form, executing a
graceful somersault in the process. This flipped the
cursing, struggling Darkling onto her stomach, where her
attacker quickly bound her wrists behind her back and lashed her
ankles together. This left the pale-skinned, raven-haired
fey in a sloppy but inescapable hogtie.
The Darkling rolled onto her left side and favored her captor
with a wry smile. "Well done, Princess. Sorry to
disturb your lunch."
Princess Sam struck a pose, feet apart and hands on hips.
"It wasn't my lunch, silly," she chuckled. "It was bait
for my trap."
She was dressed in a bandeau and loincloth of narrow strips of
linen and silk dyed in forest colors and woven together to form
a cloth of ragged, fluttering, 3-D leaf-shapes. Of course,
the camouflage would have been more effective if its coverage
had been more than that of a skimpy bikini, but the Princess had streaked her
well-tanned skin and her brat-smirking face with random stripes
and splotches of dirt, to help her fade into the forest a little
better. Her short, sun-bleached, blond hair fluttered in
the breeze as she smiled down at her captive.
The Darkling sighed and shook her head. "Princess, your
role in this exercise is to escape and evade, not capture your
pursuers. If you waste your time with ambushes..."
The Princess leaned close and whispered in the Darkling's
ear. "I might get caught by your partner?"
"Zilly Zam," the Darkling purred. "Scouts work alone."
"Except when they—don't!"
the first scout's quarterstaff and nimbly scrambled to
feet. She spun the staff in a two-handed weave, and smiled
at the second scout.
"It's not that easy,
Dark One," she laughed.
The second scout was dressed identically to her captured Sister;
however, her hair was cropped short, nearly as short as Sam's,
especially in the back. Straight bangs covered her
forehead and a pair of long, thin braids framed her smiling
face. She had already dropped the other end of her lasso
and was swinging her own quarterstaff in a practiced
weave. "Oh, Zam," she sighed, "when will you ever learn?"
Still smiling, Sam attacked. "I've learned quite a bit,"
she countered, trading a flurry of blows with her
opponent. Their staffs were blurs as the two fey parried
and thrust in rapid succession.
"The Temple Corps has taught you well, my Princess," the
Darkling said, and executed a spinning attack.
The fight continued for nearly a minute, with neither opponent
able to penetrate the others defense or land a disarming
blow. Finally, they paused.
"I didn't know the Marines had started training the Dark Guard,"
Sam said, resuming the two-handed weave.
"They haven't," the Darkling answered, also spinning her staff,
"but there's nothing to prevent us from observing their training,
"I suppose there isn't," Sam conceded. "Did you observe this move?" She
executed a low attack, which was parried, but she followed
through with an extended reverse lunge. The move was
designed to make her opponent commit to a standard, horizontal
parry, while Sam slipped the end of her staff under her opponent's staff
and executed a spiraling riposte that would rap the Darkling's
right wrist. This would weaken her grip and make her
vulnerable to Sam's next follow-through,
a simple disarming flip.
It didn't work, and in the process
of not working, left Sam's back fully exposed.
However, instead of receiving the rap on the head or thrust
between the shoulder blades that would have ended the contest,
all the Princess suffered was a very businesslike whack across both butt-cheeks.
"Ow!" Sam complained, then took a step back and rubbed her
offended posterior. "Obviously, you do know that move."
"Obviously," the Darkling agreed, grinning and resuming the
two-handed weave. Her windmilling staff swished through
the air as she smiled at her Princess.
"What's your name," Sam inquired as she took a step back and
leaned on her staff. She twisted a finger around a lock of
her own short, blond hair. "Bob, perhaps?"
"How clever," the Darkling purred, then grounded her own
staff. "The name's Daria, Princess."
"Pleased to meet you, Daria." Sam executing a sweeping
bow. Daria returned the bow, and then both opponents
resumed fighting stance.
Another flurry of blows and parries followed, including a very
clever if unnecessarily theatrical somersaulting flip on Sam's
part that reversed their positions.
Finally, with both duelers now panting and sweating, they
"I'm going to have to work harder on my staff training," Sam
said, still smiling.
"Actually, your technique is quite good," Daria said, "a little
too showy, but good." She focused on her hogtied fellow
scout. "Don't you think so, Turkyl?"
"Quite good," the captive agreed.
"Oh, how rude of me," Daria sighed, then gestured towards the
prisoner. "Princess Zamantha of the Fey, allow me to
introduce Turkyl of the Dark Guard Scouts."
"Charmed," Sam responded, with a polite bow.
A return bow being impossible, Turkyl made do with a nod.
"Charmed, as well." She shifted her gaze to Daria.
"She's good with her knot tying, too."
"Apparently," Daria said, "although her rope placement is sadly lacking."
"What's wrong with my rope placement?" Sam demanded.
"Except for style—"
"Style is the issue," Daria interrupted. "Symmetry and
elegance are important."
"This is a field exercise," Sam noted, "not one of your Dark
Mountain debaucheries." She dropped back into fighting
stance. "Now, en garde."
Daria smiled. "Your tactical skills are coming along
nicely, Princess," she said, "but your tactical thinking..."
Sam affected a wounded pout. "What do you mean?"
"You realized Turkyl was on point, and that I was trailing her
at a distance, acting as rearguard. But—"
"It never occurred to you that someone might be trailing Daria?" a new voice (a new
Janet voice) inquired.
Sam spun around, looked up, and found three Darklings standing on a low branch and
smiling down at her.
"Or that the main body might be close behind?" yet another voice
Sam spun around, again, to find that an additional eight Darklings had
entered the clearing! They were arrayed in an arc, behind
Daria's back. "You were delaying me!" Sam accused,
returning Daria's infuriatingly smug, self-satisfied smile with
a sheepish, wounded pout.
"And you let yourself
be delayed, didn't you, Princess?" Daria chuckled.
Sam sighed, and her smile returned. "Touché." She
resumed fighting stance. "Okay, I'm an idiot, but you
won't take this idiot
Two lassos had dropped over her body, and were quickly followed
by two more.
"No, dammit!" Sam protested, twisting and struggling.
"Oof!" She was on her stomach on the forest floor, and
several Darklings were holding her down and stripping off her
costume, what there was of it. "Let me go—urrf!" A rag was
stuffed in her mouth and a cleave-gag tied to keep it
there. She continued struggling as her arms were folded
behind her back and under her fluttering wings. She fought
hard, but couldn't prevent a box-tie from tightening around her
arms and torso, nor could she stop additional ropes from binding
her ankles, knees, and thighs. Her Darkling opponents
might be short in stature, but they were feisty and fit, and
there were too many of them—far
| There are fairies at the
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the Princess' Companion, a Cadman-fairy Marine from the Great
Temple, and yet another member of the Dark Guard. All
three wore identical headbands of narrow, plaited silk ribbons
in all the colors of the rainbow, signifying their status as
official observers of the exercise, by authority of The Machine
Markie was costumed like her beloved Princess, with the addition
of a body-harness of brown rope to anchor a water-skin and
rations bundle. Her famous silver and gold Dragon Cuff
dimpled the flesh of her right bicep, and her long, blonde hair
trailed down her back in tousled, windblown disarray.
The Marine was without the usual steel bikini-armor and
helmet. Instead, she was dressed for the field in
camouflaged bandeau and loincloth. She was wearing the brown
"Leatherneck" collar of the Temple Corps, one item a Marine never went without.
The rope of her body-harness was multi-colored, woven from
brown, tan, and green strands, and her red hair was cropped
short in a simple pixie.
The Darkling was dressed and equipped like her Sisters below,
differentiated only by her headband and the loose, French braid
restraining her raven locks.
"Five days and five nights," the Darkling said.
On the forest floor, her Sisters were using additional rope to
weave a tight web of diamond hitches around the Princess,
encasing her mewling and still furiously struggling body from her heaving
shoulders to her twisting toes.
"One day and one night," Markie countered.
"She has to learn," the Cadman Marine sighed, "and she's been
warned about arrogance. Three days and three nights."
Markie sighed. "Okay, three days and three nights, but she
doesn't go anywhere near the Dark Mountain, understood?"
"Oh, certainly," the Darkling chuckled. "The First
Darkling promised that if the Dark Guard could catch her, the
Dark Guard could keep her. We already have a large,
comfortable leaf-nest prepared, and that particular tree has
many gracefully twisting branches—all of them eminently
convenient for binding the Princess in a myriad of interesting
positions—that we may share a myriad
of the Dark Pleasures with her."
"For three days and three nights," Markie reiterated, "and not
one second longer! And remember..." Markie
sighed. "She's only a Princess."
The Darkling laughed, leaned across the grinning Marine, and
planted a kiss on Markie's pouting lips. "Don't worry,
Zam-Shadow," she chuckled, "contorted positions and hideous
bondage aside, we won't teach her a great deal you haven't already taught her."
"What does that mean?"
The Darkling smiled. "Do you really think your 'private
lessons' with the Princess in that little cave behind the Mossy
Waterfall are really private?"
Markie blushed. "Just... don't hurt her."
"Hah!" the Darkling huffed, and affected a wounded pout.
"No need to be insulting."
"The Dark Guard know what will happen to them if they go too
far," the Marine stated, "and they know the eyes of the Corps
will be watching, whether they see them or not."
"Not you, too?" The Darkling asked the Marine, shaking her
head. "What did your Dark Sisters ever do to merit such
Markie and the Marine rolled their eyes. Down below, Sam's
ludicrously redundant, tight, and flesh-dimpling bondage was
complete. Her captors tied six long, additional ropes to
her bundled, writhing form, and lifted her into the air,
departing with their precious burden in a direction slightly off
the direct heading for the Dark Mountain.
The hogtied Darkling, Sam's captive, was left behind.
"This isn't funny!" she called after her Sisters in a plaintive
The Darkling observer indicated her bound and furiously
squirming abandoned Sister with a grand gesture. "Your
hostage," she told Markie. "Better whisk her away before
the wood-rats smell those berries. There's a warren of
nests not far from here."
"There's also a leopard-weasel burrow in the neighborhood," the
Marine added. "A mated pair with cubs."
"Her name is Turkyl, by the way," the Darkling added, then
bowed. "Until we meet again, to exchange prisoners."
She held up three fingers. "In three days and three
"Whatever," Markie sighed.
The Darkling bowed, again, then flew after her Sisters.
"She has to learn," the Marine reminded Markie.
"I know," Markie responded. "Maybe after this, she'll pay
attention when we try and pound some sense into her empty,
grinning head. She'll be easy prey for either side in the
Great Hunt if she doesn't stop treating these exercises like
"She'll be prey, whatever we do," the Marine reminded the
frowning blonde, "but I swear she won't be easy prey, not if my
Sisters and I have anything to say about it."
Markie's smile finally returned. "Agreed. Now, let's
collect Turkyl-Weasel-Snack before she actually is a weasel snack."
The Marine nodded, and they leaped off the branch and spiraled
down towards the hogtied Darkling.
| There are fairies at the
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ON EARTH, AT
ROUGHLY THE SAME TIME...
Sam zoomed up to her house and
glided to a halt in the driveway. The snow was beginning
to fall in earnest, but the wicked wind that had chilled her to
the bone during the ride from Cheyenne Mountain was beginning to
abate. Looks like that
front is passing a little early, she reflected,
straddling her bike as the garage door cycled opened. She
eased inside, turned off the key, and tripped the
kickstand. Removing her helmet, she turned back to watch
the blowing snow. Just
in time, she thought. The dusting of white was
beginning to drift, and she knew that soon the layer of wet
slush on the roads would turn into a treacherous glaze of ice
hidden under a white blanket. Just in time.
The garage door closed as she entered the kitchen. "Honey,
I'm home!" she called out as she unzipped her jacket. The
worn, black leather was wet, as was the front of her jeans.
Janet popping into visibility three feet in front of Sam.
Her pixie face was frowning and her arms were crossed below her
breasts. She was wearing one of the Barbie dresses Hailey
had bought for her before the rescue mission. Originally a
full-length, strapless gown of burgundy satin, the lower
two-thirds of the skirt had been slit into long, narrow
ribbons. They wafted in the breeze generated by the
hovering fey's rainbow wings. "You didn't kill yourself, I
"The road isn't that bad,"
chuckled. "And hello to you, too."
"Oh, give us a kiss," Janet sighed. She darted forward and
kissed Sam's pursed lips, then returned to her former
position. "Hello. Your lips are cold," she accused.
"Like the rest of me," Sam agreed. She hung up her jacket,
then turned and smiled at her hovering lover.
Janet's dimpled, radiant smile finally asserted itself (sending
a thrill through
Sam's chilled body). "Hot shower, now," Janet
decreed. "Doctor's orders."
"Yes, ma'am," Sam chuckled. She made her way to the master
bedroom, stripped the belt from her jeans and emptied her
pockets, then sat in the chair by the bathroom door and pulled
off her boots. Entering the bathroom, she peeled off her
clothes and dropped them in the hamper, then turned on the
shower. "What sounds good for dinner?" she called.
"Janet?" Apparently, her housemate was busy elsewhere.
Sam stepped under the stream—and sighed in contentment as the hot, steaming
water caressed her nude form. A dab each of body wash and
shampoo were consumed, and finally, refreshed and restored, Sam
turned off the water. She slid back the shower curtain and
reached for a towel and—Zap!
| There are fairies at the
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eyes. As this was now more-or-less a daily occurrence, she
knew exactly where she was and exactly what had happened.
She was in the bedroom of "Janet's House", and she'd been
phase-shifted from a towering Bigling to a tiny,
convenient-for-fairy-boinking mini-Sam. She was also naked
(also as usual) and was spread-eagled on her lover's new bed,
bound at the wrists and ankles with silky rope (Bigling thread)
in a pretty shade of deep red that matched the general decor.
Janet was seated in front of her dressing table. It was a
piece of doll furniture Sam had found in an antique store.
Janet's seat was a pincushion, purchased at the same
place. She was wearing a lace handkerchief, wrapped around
her otherwise nude body like a sarong, and she was brushing her
long, auburn hair with the doll brush Hailey had given her.
Sam focused on the reflection of Janet's face in the dressing
table's mirror. She is
so beautiful, she thought, and I am so lucky. This had become her
daily prayer of thanks to god and the universe.
The bound captive focused on the frame of the bed holding her
prisoner (along with Janet's red ropes). "Basket" or even
"bird nest" might have been as accurate descriptors as "bed
frame" for the roughly rectangular construction. Sam and
Janet had carefully selected unusually gnarled and twisted
branches from the trees and bushes in the backyard and during
hikes in the mountains. They'd stripped and sanded the
wood, carefully fitted the branches into the required shape,
then drilled tiny holes and used glue, pegs, and tiny wood
screws to make a frame for Janet's king-sized (on the
fairy-scale) mattress of memory foam.
Sam squirmed and tugged on her wrist bonds, rustling the
rumpled, blood-red silk sheets in the process. "I see you
finished staining the wood," she said.
Janet focused on her precious prisoner in the mirror, smiled,
and continued brushing her hair. "The slightly darker
color looks better, don't you think? And just look at all
those twisted branches all around the perimeter. Infinite
lashing points for infinite possibilities."
"It does go better with everything else," Sam agreed, carefully
ignoring the later half of her captor's statement.
Janet's abode was actually a small closet in the main hallway,
near Sam's bedroom. Sam had installed a set of four deep
shelves with fairy-sized railings, and the five resulting
"floors" were all linked by fairy-sized spiral staircases.
The stairs were for Sam's use, of course, when she was
zapped. Being wingless, she needed a way to get from room
to room (meaning shelf to shelf).
A small, rectangular opening had been cut in the lowest panel of
the closet door. From the hallway, the seam was very
nearly invisible, and the spring-loaded hinges allowed Janet to
operate the "fairy door" with minimal effort. There were
two other fairy doors in the closet, one that led into the
attic, and another giving direct access to Sam's bathroom.
The later was camouflaged as a plumbing access panel on the
Janet's "bedroom" shelf, the couple's current location, was one
of the two completely decorated rooms. The other was Jan's
"office", where an iPad and iPhone were mounted on special
easel-like frames that let Janet browse the internet and make
calls. She did so mainly to shop online and to contact
Sam. So far, the later had remained only a contingency.
Other fairy-friendly improvements were planned for throughout
the house. Sam wanted Janet to have easy (but
well-concealed) access to any part of the structure. So
far, only the cipher-locked pet door in the kitchen door that
led to the backyard was complete.
Janet set down her hairbrush, then slowly, gracefully stood, and
turned to face the bed. She opened her sarong and let it
Sam lay in her bonds and stared at her approaching lover.
So beautiful. "We
are going to eat at
some point, I hope?" Sam muttered. "I'm starving."
"Oh, Sam," Janet sighed. "I go to all the trouble to zap
you, drag you to bed, and tie you down for a T.G.I.F. party, and
all you want to do is eat?"
"Baked fish for lunch," Sam explained. "I hardly ate any
Janet sat on the bed. "Except the blue Jell-O." She
reached out and cupped Sam's breasts. "You love fish."
"When it isn't steamed 'til it's tasteless and served with that
low-bid Federal contract tartar sauce," Sam replied. She
tugged on her bonds, again, as Janet massaged her breasts.
"Your skin is so pretty," Janet sighed, "even in winter, when
your tan has started to fade."
Sam smiled. "Right back at ya, Brown Eyes.
Oh!" Janet was teasing her nipples with the tips of her
fingers. "I really am hungry," she shuddered. "How
'bout just a quickie?"
"One, zero-zero-zero, one-zero-one?" Janet suggested.
Sam laughed, then squirmed as Janet's left hand continued
fiddling with her left nipple and her right hand slid down her
flat tummy, through her dark-blond bush, and caressed her
pussy. "You remembered."
"Sixty-nine in base-two?" Janet purred. "Of course.
I found your arguments that cunnilingus is a binary phenomenon most compelling."
She climbed onto the bed, straddled Sam's body, and reversed her
"Tongues and lips, only," Sam chuckled. She smiled (and
shuddered with anticipation) as Janet's pussy approached her
face. "Although... since you get to use your fingers, I
suppose a fractal approach would be more appro—M'mmpfh!"
"Enough with the math-geek talk," Janet giggled. Sam's
tongue was already at work. Janet slid her tongue across
her captive's labia, used her fingers to spread the flushed,
pink folds, then lifted the hood and teased Sam's clitoris with
the very tip of her tongue.
Sam shivered and forced a whine through her lover's pussy, then
redoubled her efforts.
Janet quivered with delight, especially her wings, then lifted
her head from Sam's crotch. "We'll make it a long quickie," she gasped.
| There are fairies at the
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returned Sam to normal size, the grinning blonde didn't bother
dressing. (She knew Janet loved it when she puttered around the house
in her birthday suit.) The lovers were in the kitchen.
Sam flipped the bacon, jack cheese, green onion, and avocado
omelet she'd prepared. Diced potatoes were sautéing in a
Janet, also nude, was using a tiny knife to slice herself a
fairy-sized portion of mixed salad from the items on Sam's salad
"It's ready," Sam said, and slid the omelet onto her
plate. She'd purposely grouped a finely diced lump of
components to one side, and she sliced off that part of the
omelet and transferred it to Janet's doll-sized plate. The
potatoes were next, including a diced portion for Janet.
Sam poured herself some red wine, then a thimble-sized glass for
"Friday arrived just in time," Sam muttered, gazing out the
kitchen window. Fat, fluffy snowflakes were drifting past
the panes, stark white against the night sky.
"A long, lazy weekend," Janet purred, and held up her glass.
Sam smiled and carefully clinked the base of her wineglass
against Janet's tiny tumbler.
"Is Hailey still acting suspicious?" Janet asked as they began
Sam nodded. "I was an idiot to ask her for all the doll
stuff she bought for you."
"Water under the bridge," Janet shrugged. "At least she's
smart enough, and kind enough,
not to press the issue."
Sam smiled. "Jack, Daniel, the General... even Teal'c know
Yesterday, Jack caught me humming in the elevator and accused me
of having a new boyfriend."
Janet laughed. "Well, they may be curious, but none of
them will make any noise. They know the I.O.C. has spies
"Observers, not spies,"
Sam said. "International Oversight Committee, remember?"
"I stand corrected," Janet chuckled. "Anyway, after Hailey
leaves for Cal Tech, she'll be too busy working on her doctorate
to care about the possibility of fugitive fairies lurking in
"I'm going to miss her," Sam sighed, "but the General's promised
me that when she gets back she'll get a permanent slot on an SG
"George isn't silly enough to pass on a second Sam Carter,"
Janet said, smiling sweetly.
Sam blushed. "The General isn't silly at all."
They continued eating.
"Maybe we ought to
tell her I'm here," Janet said.
"Maybe," Sam agreed, "after she gets back." She focused on
Janet. "And Cassie, too."
"Not yet," Janet muttered. "We've talked about this.
Not yet. Cassie's life has been weird enough. She's
strong, but... not yet."
"But, eventually," Sam added.
Janet nodded. "Eventually." Her smile
returned. "I've got a surprise for you," she said.
Sam swallowed the last of her omelet. "And it is?"
"I've decided to let you tie me
to the bed for a change."
Sam sipped her wine, with a rather forced display of
nonchalance. "If you want me to, I guess. But remind
me to untie you Monday morning." She sipped her wine,
again. "Of course, if you're gagged, you won't be able to remind me."
"Why, Samantha Carter," Janet purred, pausing to sip her own
wine, "I had no idea that you
were half Darkling, too."
Sam smiled and finished the rest of her meal, mentally reviewing
the correct steps for tying a stylistically elegant and
thoroughly inescapable box-tie.
| There are fairies at the
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ANOTHER EIGHTEEN MONTHS
ON THE FEY WORLD
Three Lightlings, two Darklings, a
Keller-fairy, and a Hailey-fairy lounged on the main platform of
the well-camouflaged "fairy-house" that overlooked what had come
to be known as Goldeneye Canyon. The tree-house had been
constructed in secret, in a tall live-oak near the very rim of
the canyon. It provided fey visitors to the dragon's
domain a more comfortable resting place than the shallow cave
down in the canyon itself, where Sam and Markie had sheltered
during the famous (and rapidly becoming legendary) "Queen's
Dragon Abduction". The screens of living branches and
camouflaged canopies concealing the interconnected platforms
were more a courtesy than an actual attempt to hide the fairies'
presence from the great beast. If Goldeneye could pretend
she didn't know her fey visitors had an actual base in the very
heart of her territory, she didn't have to destroy it.
"I hope we timed this right," one of the Darklings muttered.
"We've been over this," the other Darkling muttered back.
"Enough," a Lightling chuckled. "Either the egg hatched at
the time predicted, or it didn't."
"And either he'll come straight here, or he won't," another
"I can't get used to saying 'he'," the Hailey-fairy sighed,
shaking her head. "I can't get used to them."
"I think the boy-fairies are cute," the third Lightling
giggled. "Maybe, when a few more of them have hatched,
I'll single one out and flirt with him."
"You flirt with everything," one of her Sisters replied, and all
the Lightlings giggled.
The Darklings rolled their eyes in disgust. The
Keller-fairy and Hailey-fairy simply smiled.
"There she is!" the Hailey-fairy gasped, pointing up.
High overhead, Goldeneye had soared into view. Her great,
golden wings were fully extended to catch the thermal rising off
the vertical, sun-baked cliff of the canyon's far rim. As
the fey watched, the dragon banked in a counterclockwise spiral,
climbing ever higher into the cloudless, cerulean sky. The
sun flashed across her golden scales with every turn.
"She's sooooo beautiful," the Keller-fairy sighed.
"Maybe the Firsts are wrong," the Hailey-fairy suggested.
"Maybe he'll establish his own
territory, somewhere else. Maybe he won't even be a
"Maybe we'll tie you down and whip your fanny for doubting the
word of the First Darkling," one of the Darklings growled.
"And maybe I'll kick your butt for trying," the Hailey-fairy
"Peace," a Lightling chuckled. "It will be a he, and it will come for her.
And it will be silver in color."
"And I suppose you have special
knowledge?" a Darkling scoffed, "whispered in your ear
by the Machine of Life, itself?"
"I have eyes," the Lightling replied, and pointed to the group's
"Ohhh!" the others gasped.
Winging from the direction of the Temple was a second
dragon! As it came closer, they could see that its scales
were, indeed, silver. Further, its body had a subtle
counter-shading, steel-gray and pewter stripes on its dorsal
surface and a uniform, dull silver below.
Goldeneye had spotted him. With a roar of outrage, she
folded her wings and dropped into a steep dive!
The newcomer evaded the attack, swooping low and passing
directly above the watching fairies in the process. "Wow!"
they gasped, as he flashed overhead, allowing them to confirm
beyond all doubt that he was, indeed, a he.
"Look!" the Kelley-fairy cried. "He's carrying the rope
the Felger-trolls made for him!" A generous coil of thick,
brown, braided rope was clutched in the talons of the silver
dragon's right hand. To the fairies, it was twice as thick
as the stoutest cable the Lightlings used to winch together the
branches of the trees of the Grove of Light. To the
dragons, it was something between stout cord and thin rope.
"If you don't stop shouting," a Darkling warned the
Keller-fairy, "I'm going to gag you."
"They can't possibly hear me," the Keller-fey objected.
"But we can hear
you," the Hailey-fairy explained, "and quite easily. Don't
"Sorry," the Keller-fairy said, blushing sheepishly.
Meanwhile, Goldeneye had recovered from her failed attack and
was surging towards the hovering intruder. "ALL OF THIS IS
MINE!" she roared. "GO AWAY!"
The fairies winced and covered their ears.
"THAT'S NOT VERY FRIENDLY!" the silver dragon roared back.
"DON'T YOU LIKE ME?"
"By the Dark Throne!" one of the Darklings gasped, "he's flirting with her!"
"I hope they don't fight," the Keller-fairy said.
"A little late for that," the Hailey-fairy chuckled.
Goldeneye and the silver dragon had already locked talons and
were battering at each other with their wings.
"YOU HAVE ROPE!" Goldeneye roared.
"A GIFT!" the silver dragon responded.
"A wedding gift," one
of the Darklings purred, and the others laughed, all except the
"Who's getting married?" the Keller-fey asked.
"And whose idea was it to bring a newly-hatched Keller on this
trip?" the other Darkling muttered.
"I'm almost a week old!" the Keller-fairy objected.
One of the Lightlings leaned close and kissed the pouting
Keller-fey's lips. "Just watch the show, Pretty One," she
whispered in her ear.
Over the canyon, the battle continued. Curiously, although
both opponents were strong, ferocious predators with razor-sharp
talons and jaws bristling with dagger-like teeth, neither dragon
was wounded, or even scratched.
"Courtship," one of the Lightlings stated.
"They're pulling their punches," another agreed.
"Love bites, only," the third nodded.
"How boring," a Darkling sighed, and shared a giggle with her
Sister. They weren't serious, of course.
"Wow!" the fey gasped. The silver dragon had dropped his
coiled "gift", grappled Goldeneye's arms and legs, clamped his
jaws around her throat, and wrapped his tail around her
body. They plummeted into the lake, disappearing into the
blue water with a violent splash. A minor tsunami spread
from the impact point and drenched the shores.
Seconds passed, a purple flash lit the depths, and then...
nothing. The wave continued to spread, and eventually
reached the beach below the bat cave at the far end of the
lake. Counter-waves rippled, cancelled each other out, and
the lake grew still.
"You don't suppose..." the Keller-fairy whispered.
"Just watch," the Hailey-fairy responded—then pointed.
Two figures erupted to the surface: Freya, the
Bigling-sized, human form of Goldeneye, and an equally giant, male human. The male
was taller than Freya, with broad shoulders and long, brown
hair, which at the moment was wet and plastered to his face and
"It's an O'Neill!" one of the Lightlings cried, "a young O'Neill."
Those who had hatched before the Queen's Rescuers returned to
The Queen's World could see that the male, obviously the human
form of the silver dragon, was, indeed, a copy of a young Jack
"LET ME GO!" Freya demanded. In addition to being held in
the O'Neill clone's strong arms, her wrists were bound behind
her back and her arms pinned to her sides.
"Damn!" one of the Darkling muttered. "A full box-tie on a
kicking, struggling victim while they're both underwater?
This guy's good!"
"'Date'," a Lightling corrected her Dark Sister, "a kicking,
"I stand corrected," the Darkling chuckled.
Down below, Freya's captor had dragged her to the shallows off
the beach of the far shore. She was still struggling,
sputtering, and shouting, but the O'Neill was sprawled across
her body and had her firmly under control.
"'Jackdragon', one word," the Hailey suggested.
"I like it," a Lightling giggled.
"It's better than 'Silver Dragon Number One', I suppose," a
"Jackdragon it is," another Lightling said, and planted a kiss
on the Hailey-fairy's cheek.
The one-sided struggle between Freya and Jackdragon
continued. The distance was great enough that the fairies
couldn't follow whatever words were passing between the pair,
other than the occasional "NO!" or "STOP THAT!" or "HOW DARE
YOU!" shouted by Freya. Jackdragon's replies, whatever
they might be, were much quieter.
Time passed, and the fairies watched the show in silence.
After a while, Freya's struggles became less like efforts to
escape and more like... something else. Also, the kisses
Jackdragon was planting on Freya's thrashing head, neck, and
face became... mutual.
At one point, Jackdragon began whispering something in Freya's
ear... and the captive listened, intently. Then, a smile
curled Freya's lips, she put her head back, and she erupted in a fit of
giggling laughter. The shrill echoes bounced off the
canyon walls for nearly half a minute.
"Is he tickling her?"
the Keller-fairy demanded, her face frozen in horror.
The Hailey-fairy shook her head. "No, I think he told her
One of the Darklings caught her Sister's eye, indicated the
wide-eyed Keller-fey with a surreptitious nod, then fluttered
the fingers of her right hand. Her Sister's lips curled in
a truly evil smile
and she mouthed a one-word, silent reply: "Later."
Down in the canyon, the giant couple had resumed kissing, as
well as thrashing and rolling around in the water.
"That's called 'spooning', I believe," a Lightling said.
"See also 'making out'," another Lightling giggled.
"'Second base'," a Darkling suggested.
Her Dark Sister shook her head. "They're naked. 'Third base'.
Wait..." Down below, the half-submerged giants were
rhythmically churning the water. "Make that 'home run'."
"Also known as 'making little dragons'," the Hailey-fairy
muttered. "Hatched in the morning and mating at
noon? Male dragons are fast!"
"That's for sure," the Darklings muttered in unison.
The dragons in human form continued making waves... and little
dragons. The fairies continued to watch.
"Whose turn is it to make lunch?" a Lightling asked.
"Not hungry!" the others answered in unison.
Down below, dragon-generated waves continued lapping the lake
| There are fairies at the
bottom of our astrophysics lab
forgetting something, but what?
Oh, now I remember:
they all lived happily ever after.