Caution: This Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa, Fa/Fa, Consensual, Romantic, Magic, Fiction, Safe Sex, Oral Sex, School, .
Desc: Sex Story: Chapter 1 - There is a world of magic just on the edge of sight... and it is moving closer, and closer... Welcome to the world of 'The Glen'.
Mist gently swirled around the bases of trees and shrubs. Breath barely visible in the cool morning air. Dew clung to spider webs on the branches of Rhododendrons. In the distance muffled voices echoed in queer ways between ivy clad walls. In short it was a typical Spring morning in Seattle.
A gentle rain started to fall on two shadows on the edge of the Quad, all but invisible against the faintly gray fog that hugged the landscaped corners of their lair. It had been pissing rain for days now, and the two watchers were well past cold and wet. Still, one of them kept a careful watch on the entrance to Savery Hall while the other kept an eye out for other watchers. College students came and went without so much as a passing glance at the two silent, slightly darker shadows that stalked the campus. Their bolt hole carefully chosen so as to not attract attention, the result of years of experience gained in this very kind of watching. Trained in the arts of hunting, the pair awaited their prey.
"Are you sure this is the one?" Gareth anxiously asked for the thousandth time.
Wearily, Morgan nodded, without a sound, without taking his eyes from the door. "My Laird, I'm as sure as anyone can be about these things..." he answered in a bare whisper that carried little further than the edge of his lips. "His Grace said I was to wait and watch, so I wait and watch." With a slight shrug, he returned to watching.
Morgan was a Watcher by training and inclination. Since Watchers had to pass in the mortal world a good deal, they tended to blend in to the point of non-existence in the thoughts and minds of the mortals they watched. Morgan's clothing would have attracted little if any attention in the urban centers that the mortal world had become. His dark overcoat, fatigue pants and boots marked him as just another homeless 'vet'. He even had a story of a far off land called 'Nam that he had honed over years of sitting with other vets. If one wanted to be a Watcher in the mortal world, what better way to do it than sitting in a darkened entryway, holding a paper cup and muttering quietly to yourself every now and then. It didn't matter to mortals that the mutterings were just to maintain Morgan's "glamour". A well crafted glamour faded into the background noise of the mortal world.
As the rain once again petered out, Gareth said, "But, will you at least point her out to me, I mean, how am I to know she is the one?"
"Trust me, lad, you'll have no doubt once she comes out of yon building".
Young Gareth was another matter entirely. He was dressed head-to-toe in fine, green leathers of a distinctly Medieval cast The kind still favored at Court. As a newly appointed Squire to Duke Emory, Gareth felt it important to maintain appearances. The Duke himself placed heavy emphasis on the importance of appearances, or at least making sure people saw what they expected. Gareth would have looked out of place to the seeing eye. With his glamour firmly in place, he looked like any other college student on an early Spring day, including the ubiquitous backpack and ball cap worn backward on his head helped to maintain the ruse.
His Grace had a favorite saying regarding Morgan: 'You can take the old man out of the old country, but you cannot take the old country out of the old man'. Morgan to all appearances was of indiscriminate age, roughly late fifties to mortal eyes. Gareth was clearly little more than eighteen in anyone's eyes.
Since the early 1920's, as time is marked in the mortal world, the Seelie Court of Queen Titania had resided in the "New World", as it was still styled at Court. Feeling the increasing beat of war and hatred in Europe, and finding less and less open space in which to coexist with the mortal world, the entire Court had simply vanished into the mists, only to reappear in the Americas. The Unseelie Court had also felt the hatred, but since they feed on hatred and pain the build up to, and actual outbreak of war only served to strengthen their position in European mortal society, let alone what it did to strengthen their magics.
A soft puff of wind sent a chill up Gareth's neck and he turned at a footfall behind him. Morgan merely huddled closer to the ground and kept up his watch. "Yer Grace... ?", was all he whispered.
The new comer, Emory, Duke Pen Dragon would have stood out in any world. Dressed head-to-toe in midnight blue velvet robes, soft blue slippers, and topped by shoulder length dark hair just beginning to silver. He looked the world like an illustration from a Medieval manuscript of a Court Wizard, which of course he was.
"Morgan; Gareth" he said with just the briefest of nods to indicate each man, yet never taking his eyes from the front of the building. "Has she appeared yet?"; Emory, Duke Pen Dragon asked with a gleam in his eye that hinted at ill hid passion and something else that was hard to put a finger on. As if in answer a palpable crackle sizzled through the air.
With just a hint just a hint of impatient air Morgan added, "Yer Grace, she comes!"