‘We use controlled vents of heated water to cook our food,’ Fionn told him. ‘It is quite safe.’
‘It’s geothermal? That’s cool as fuck.’ Rory backed off a little. ‘Jesus, I can feel the heat from here.’
Fionn struggled with his turn of phrase. How could something be cool and hot at once? He chalked it up to another quirk in Rory’s DeepSong.
The super-heated water from the vent did indeed dissipate through the chamber, warming the space through. The warmth seemed to help take some of the tension out of Rory’s muscles. Not that he’d looked uncomfortable before, but Fionn guessed his body was simply more used to the balmy climate of the surface world.
When the mackerel was cooked, Fionn offered the serving basket to Rory first.
‘I just sort of grab one through the sides?’ Rory asked, looking at the spherical vessel with confusion. It was loosely woven so that food could be easily accessed from any angle, and looked nothing like serving dishes Fionn had seen on land.
‘The fish would float away if it is not contained,’ Fionn explained, inwardly lighting up at the new round of fascination this inspired in Rory. ‘We also mount our food on skewers sometimes, so that it might be served on a flat surface.’
‘Like this platter.’ Neacel brandished a polished circle of stone into which thin brass spikes had been embedded. He then selected a few morsels of raw, pinkish meat from another pot and arranged them on the platter for Rory to inspect. ‘This is eel, if you wish to try.’
Rory gulped. ‘Well. In for a penny, in for a pound…’ He plucked a small chunk of eel flesh and popped it into his mouth. His tight expression gradually dissolved. ‘Oh. I didn’t think it would be so mild.’
Fionn relaxed as well. Rory appeared to be enjoying himself. He soon got the hang of eating from the round basket and even began to play with his food like a child. Fionn watched him flick a sliver of fish upwards before catching it in his mouth once it had spun to a standstill. Rory laughed and exclaimed, ‘It’s like eating in space!’
Fionn grinned and selected a strip of eel. ‘Watch this.’
He flung the meat past Rory’s head. Quick as a flash, Fionn grabbed a bronze dart from his harness and threw it with precision. It pierced the eel and skewered it to the cave wall.
‘I’d be obliged if you could refrain from such games in my home,’ Neacel said with a chiding smile.
Fionn pulled his dart from the wall. ‘Sorry.’
‘You nearly took my ear off,’ Rory told him in a grumbly way. Except it wasn’t really much of a grumble, and the way his gaze followed Fionn’s hands suggested he might quite like to see it again.
Fionn was inspired to say, ‘I shall make up for it later,’ which produced a most interesting shade of red over Rory’s face and neck.
Fleetingly, Fionn’s thoughts returned to the feeling of his knot swelling in Rory’s mouth.
He dropped the mackerel he was about to eat, all at once hot and wet in his core and his cock rapidly turning hard. Rory stiffened, halfway through chewing. Suddenly he was looking anywhere but at Fionn.
Neacel, thankfully, remained oblivious. He brought up the length of their stay in his cave. ‘I’m afraid I only have two chambers, so you will need to make the best of this one. Do you know how long you have until you are expected back at the palace, Fionn? It must be getting close now, isn’t it?’
‘Close to what?’ Fionn’s mind lifted from his cock back to the present. ‘Ah, the wedding. It is the full moon in two days, so who knows? To be honest I’m not supposed to leave the palace at all in this time, in case the Redfolk descend upon us without warning.’
This jerked Rory from his thoughts as well. ‘What, your wedding’s meant to be in two days?’
‘Possibly. The Redfolk like to keep us in the dark.It might be longer.’
Rory pushed the serving basket aside with a frown. ‘You mentioned a plan.’
Fionn paused, vacillating over whether to dump even more information onto him. Rory hadn’t drowned yet.
‘We must confront my father before the wedding can take place,’ Fionn said while gauging his reaction. ‘I cannot… Imustnot lay eyes upon any Redfolk if I am to escape this marriage. For I am cursed by ancient magic to be bonded to the first member of the tribe that I see.’
Rory sighed. ‘Magic again. Go on.’ Then his brow furrowed. ‘Wait, so you’ve never seen one of these red guys before?’
‘Never. It would foul the bargain.’
‘Bargain, right. But they can’t actually force you to marry one of them, can they?’
Ah, of course Rory might not comprehend the implications of a magical contract. Fionn mustered every ounce of patience he owned to explain in simple terms.
‘Long ago, a Bluefolk king promised away the hand of every First Prince in marriage. To safeguard that marriage for all future generations, the bargain included a cursed soul bond to ensure the prince would be bonded to his Redfolk suitor regardless of his own will.’
