Oberon Rising

NOTE: I'm so sorry I took so long. I had some massive writer's block and I hope you can all forgive me.

"I don't see why you're sending her." Tannis, the owner of the voice that molested James five hours ago, crossed her arms.

"Because you'd never get your hands off of him." Oberon smiled to himself; it was always fun to get that Ghastig in a huff. Who said the Lord of the Fae couldn't get down and dirty if he wanted to? "You can play with him once they reach New York."

"You promise?"

"Yes." Oberon rolled his pale grey eyes and sighed as Tannis floated away from his chamber. Even with her ability to grate on his nerves, he owed Tannis his life. It was her jealousy and hatred toward his queen, Titiana, that kept him from having his soul torn to shreds by his vassals' cold iron swords. Traitor, that very word was drilled into rest of the Fae's heads by that lousy excuse of a wife. Lowering herself to mere pettiness like some Human worm; this was not the wise and beautiful woman he married. She wasn't his wife anymore; she was nothing and he would get his point across to her within time. Her and every single backstabbing fairy that dared to take her side.

Raising one of his spidery, sky blue fingers to his face he came across the huge, jagged scar that ran from the upper left corner of his forehead, down his eye and to his nose; a parting gift from the bitch-queen herself. Maybe that's why he was so persistent in making James his champion; both of them betrayed by the women they loved and foolishly believed that it was returned with equal measure. He was still shackled with the chains of denial that once held Oberon for days after his wife's betrayal and it would take more than his encouragement and Tannis' fondling to make him change his mind. If Angie was only a decade older, she would've made a decent candidate as his champion's healer. For now, the mortal he choose would more than suffice.

****

It was a noble intention, it really was. Proof that Oberon was willing to entrust a mere mortal like herself as something more than a hapless pawn.

"Still innocent after all these years. Oh Oberon, you're no different than the rest of us."Cree thought as she remembered Tannis' disapproving glare as she handed Cree the letter with Oberon's request and a pile of three years worth of news clippings on the Great Gatsby himself. Other than what her leader told her about some bimbo framing him for murder, it was the only real piece of information she got. The rest were superficial layers painting a pretty picture of an enigmatic and deeply troubled man.

Just like Nestor, the man she was to honor, obey, and help exorcize the demons plaguing his soul like all good wives do. A lot of help she was. Poor bastard ended up hanging himself in their bedroom in five years. So what good was she going to be for a man she hardly knew? No. She couldn't think like that and give up hope now. She promised Nestor that she'd help make a better world for him; one that would except him for the man he was.

Even in an empty box car, she could still feel her husband's presence around her as if she was sitting on his lap. His wiry, yet surprisingly powerful arms around her hourglass figure waist, his refined facial features burying themselves into her long, curly raven black hair that she was so proud almost to the point of vanity; his throaty moans of pleasure whenever she brushed her butt against his crotch, and especially those long, nimble fingers that any pick pocket would kill to have sliding under the hemline of her panties until he found her center and stroked it like a kitten. It was probably all done just to make her happy, but for now it didn't matter. It just made a rather long and lonely train ride all the more tolerable.