I Like the Sprite in You (AKA- The Sprite Stuff)

by Willa Shakespeare (Avon, in the role of Phuck), and  Zenia (Blake, in the role of Obearon)
Phuck, the wood sprite, woke and grinned, intending another evening of mischief. Before he could shower under the waterfall outside his cave a messenger bird arrived.

He opened the folded leaf and read the runes. The King! Phuck's dragonfly wings fluttered with excitement. King Obearon summons me!

Phuck straightened his loin-cloth of fern and Anna's hummingbird's feathers, chewed on a sprig of mint, and flew directly to the King's court, gently glowing through the night as he had forgot to wash off the phosphorous from his rocky bed.


King Obearon sprawled restlessly on his throne, surreptitiously rubbing his shoulder against the velvety back in order to scratch an itch. The crown atop his head was slightly askew, and he kept having to straighten it. He sighed and looked out the window. Where is that damn sprite?

Phuck flew in through the window, wings buzzing. He landed before the throne, fell to his knees and bowed until his forehead touched the carpet. "Woodsprite Phuck, at your command, o King." He looked up, grinning.

King Obearon shook his head. "I'm glad you're amused, Phuck. If you'll notice, I am not. I've had complaints about you. Transforming humans into animals, misdirection... making a nuisance of yourself. Have you anything to say?"

Phuck looked up, wide-eyed. "O King, it was only an ass's head. And the mortal truly was improved by the change." The king did not look pleased. Phuck looked down. "It was only an evening's sport. Tarrant had his proper head again and all the lost ones were found again in the morn." Phuck crept forward on his knees and looked up, hopefully.

"An evening's sport?" The king sat up and glared at Phuck. "You could have damaged those humans! You could have put us in danger!" He frowned. "I am disappointed in you."

Phuck flung himself flat on his belly. "O King! Take pity! I meant no harm. I watched to see that nothing happened to them, and gave them pleasant dreams while they slept." Phuck squirmed closer, trying to kiss the royal boot. "They woke, laughing, and went off the best of friends, suspecting nothing of us, o King." Phuck peeked up with one eye, to see how his story was being received.

Obearon sighed and looked at Phuck for a long moment. He should really banish Phuck from his realm, take away his powers, make him human. But although Phuck was a mischief maker, and a drama queen, he was also very charming. And he did flutter his wings very prettily. He leaned back in his throne and shifted his leg forward so that his foot was in front of Phuck's face. "You must be punished."

"Punish me, o King! Only do not send me away." Phuck kissed the boot, then daringly stroked the royal calf. "Phuck is your most devoted and loving subject. He would die if he could never see his king again." Phuck wriggled his bottom and fluttered his wings.

Obearon spread his legs and offered Phuck a hand. "How devoted are you, my sprite? What would you do for your king?"

Phuck kissed Obearon's hand and rose to his feet, wings a-flutter for balance. "O, anything o my beloved King." Phuck tilted his head to one side and grinned. "Has my King a task for me?"

"Yes, he has." Obearon grabbed Phuck by his wrist and pulled him forward so that he fell on top of Obearon. "I want to touch your wings."

Phuck looked a little frightened. "You aren't going to take my wings and make me mortal, o King?" He shivered so his wings scattered bits of glitter.

Obearon grinned and stroked underneath Phuck's chin. "Don't you trust me, little Phuck?"

Phuck swallowed nervously, suddenly remembering how many times he'd been called in for pranks. "O, yes, my King." His eyes were round.

Obearon waited until Phuck's wings stilled, though they did tremble a bit. He reached out and traced a finger along one wing.

Phuck's wings twitched, then slowed to a more regular wavering, matching his heartbeat. Obearon's touch transmitted down to his shoulders, to the delicate attachment of wing to skin. Phuck found this exciting, and squirmed. "Do you like my wings, o King?"

"Yes." Obearon ran a hand over the underside of his wing, enjoying the slight flutters. The wing was more delicate than he expected it to be-- its delicacy reminded him of a spider's web laced with dew. He kept his touch light and gentle. "You have beautiful wings."

Phuck smiled, and put his hands on Obearon's chest. "Thank you, o my King." He started stroking Obearon's chest. "You have a beautiful body, o King." He glanced up to see if he was in trouble again.

Obearon smiled and leaned forward, kissing Phuck. He traced patterns against the wing and slipped his other hand under Phuck's loincloth, stroking smooth, firm thighs.

Phuck giggled into the kiss, darting his tongue back and forth in Obearon's mouth. His legs spread, offering, and his lower set of wings fluttered faster, while the upper ones moved lazily against Obearon's touch.

Obearon broke the kiss and chuckled. "You're an enthusiastic wood sprite." He slid his hand upward to cup Phuck and give him a friendly squeeze. "Did you know my father was a satyr?"

"O, no, my King." Phuck looked extremely interested. "Do you take after him?" he asked hopefully.

"In some aspects." Obearon moved the hand under the loincloth. "You're very pretty." He slid his hand across Phuck's wing, across his shoulder, then up to push into his hair. He stroked the silky strands, wrapping them around his fingers. "Do your wings flutter when you make love?"

Phuck grinned. "O yes, my beloved King." He wriggled against Obearon. "All of me does."

Obearon laughed and licked Phuck's mouth before sitting back. He removed his hands from Phuck's body. "Take off your loincloth and flutter your wings for me."

Phuck eagerly slipped off his loincloth, and turned around to show the king that he was fluttering all four wings in the wood-sprite equivalent of eyelash-batting. He was very good at it. He looked back over his shoulder and grinned.

Obearon whispered, "Beautiful." He stood and slowly walked toward Phuck. "I'm going to kiss them and lick them and stroke them."

Phuck lit up with pleasure. Literally. In his happiness the phosphorescence embedded in his wings glittered, and miniature rainbows formed as his wings fluttered. "O, my King is too kind to a mere woodsprite."

Obearon grinned and pressed a hand to one of Phuck's wings so that it fluttered against his palm. "My bedchambers aren't far."

Phuck's grin widened. "May I escort the King to his rest? Affairs of state are very tiring..."

"Oh, my affairs are far from over." Obearon patted Phuck on the arse. "Only, remember that I do know the way. It'll do no good to try to lead me astray."

Phuck wriggled happily. "Then shall I walk behind my king, as is fitting?" He grinned.

"Oh, no. I'm going to keep my eye on you, Phuck." He ran his hand over Phuck's arse, finger dipping between his firm cheeks. Then he smacked Phuck hard. "It's that way, up the stairs and to your right."

Still grinning, Phuck took two steps, then flew up the stairs, and turned right, hovering as he awaited Oberon.

Obearon made his way up the stairs, slowly, watching the flutter of wings, the way they caught the light and shimmered. Once at the top of the stairs, he paused, yawning and stretching. Then he walked over to his bedroom door and opened it. He gestured for Phuck to enter.

Phuck flew in, and paused in the middle of the chamber, turning in place as he admired the furnishings. He looked rather like a disco ball with arms and legs. "O, how magnificent! And what a lovely bed, o King!"

"Yes, it is." Obearon stretched out on the bed, lying on his back, legs spread, one hand tucked under his head, the other playing with a nipple. "Why don't you try it?"

Phuck flew over the bed and hovered, then folded his wings and dive-bombed onto the bed, bouncing several times before he came to a halt, curled up in a ball. He grinned.

Obearon laughed and turned toward Phuck. "Aren't you ever serious, wood sprite?"

Phuck giggled, and moved closer to the king. "Oh, no, my King." He fluttered his wings and his eyelashes, which were also glittery, but dark, like a night sky full of stars. "I was made for laughter. For laughter and for love."

"I can see that." Obearon stared at Phuck's body hungrily. He rubbed one of Phuck's nipples with his thumb, then ran a finger down his chest to circle his belly button.

Phuck giggled again, and leaned down to kiss the King's right nipple, swirling his tongue around it in a wide swath.

Obearon cocked his head. "How sensitive are your wings?"

Phuck fanned his wings gently. "Very, o king." He grinned as he reached back to stroke one of the lower wings, which had an immediately noticeable result in front of Phuck. For a moment he looked sad. "I can't lie on them..." Then he brightened. "But there are so many other ways, o King."

Obearon hadn't been paying any attention to what Phuck had been saying, not after his demonstration of his wings' sensitivity. He reached out and gently fingered the lower wing. "I want to play with them."

Phuck was flushing and trembling now as Obearon fondled his wings. "O... o, my king, your wish is granted..." He braced himself on hands and knees.

Obearon knelt behind Phuck and took a deep breath to calm himself. Then he placed his hands on the small of Phuck's back, rubbing in circles until he reached the area where the wings sprouted. He stroked the delicate skin, leaning over to lick the area . As his tongue lapped at the skin, his hands move outward, running over the soft expanse of the lower wings.

"Ooo..." Phuck's wings trembled and then started stroking the air as he stiffened and arched his back. "Oooh, yes... oh, my King. What clever hands..."

Obearon pulled away and pushed down gently on Phuck's back. "I can't kiss your wings properly. Settle down on your stomach."

Phuck patted the eider cover into a comfortable niche for his middle and settled on his belly, arms, legs and wings all spread like a flower opening its petals to the sun. He fluttered once, then resumed the gentle wing-rowing. "O... o.... the King! To kiss my wings!"

Obearon carefully straddled Phuck's hips, leaned forward, and brushed his lips over the edge of the large wings, tongue darting out every so often to tease them.

Phuck hummed into the covers, quivering. He remembered the day his wings unfolded, blood pumping into the veins, stiffening them, making him a true fairy. He wriggled into the covers, happily.

When he was done teasing the edges of the wings, Obearon began working on the surface, nuzzling the softness with his lips before placing hot, opened-mouthed kisses against every millimeter. As he did this, his hand reached down to part Phuck's buttocks, finger stroking his arsehole.

Phuck's wings went straight up, quivering wildly, then spread out flat. "O my King!" He wriggled enthusiastically. "O, yes, I love that."

Obearon reached for the pot of scented oil he kept near the bed. He freed his cock from his trousers and slicked it, then he pushed a finger into Phuck's hole, fucking him. He leaned over and began to lick Phuck's wings.

A lingering remnant of fairy decorum kept Phuck from coming before the king. But it was not easy. He hummed louder and his wings flickered, shivers of color running along their edges like heat lightning.

Obearon was awed. "Beautiful." He slid his cock inside of Phuck and began to rock his hips. "Beautiful." He rubbed his cheek against the wings, moaning.

Phuck's hum deepened as he was filled. His wings stiffened and the upper ones began vibrating against the lower, producing sounds very like violins, at first discordant, then as Obearon began to fuck him rhythmically, becoming a joyous song without words.

Obearon could feel the vibration of Phuck's wings all the way down to his bones. It was a gentle tickle of electricity lapping over his skin, making his teeth hum. As he fucked Phuck, the trembling became stronger and the song the vibration made filled the room, drowning out his moans-- drowning his body in sensation. He thrust hard, the movement of his hips becoming erratic as his pleasure spiked. He cried out, suddenly, helplessly, coming into the sprite's body.

The king's cry of pleasure went straight to Phuck's wings, adding one last note to the song. Phuck bucked under the king, coming into the eider as he shrieked happily. He lay there, wings fluttering erratically, and gasping for breath. He turned his head at last, grinning brightly. "O my King... when are you going to punish me?" He giggled.

Obearon pulled out of Phuck and crawled next to him. He laughed at Phuck's words. "You, my little wood sprite, are sentenced to a night without sleep." He lazily stroked a wing. "And a sore bottom."

Phuck giggled and fanned his wings lazily. "My king is merciful." He kissed Obearon. "Who sleeps at night?"

"Certainly not you." Obearon brushed Phuck's mouth with his fingers. "I'm going to enjoy giving you a sore bottom."

Phuck kissed Obearon's fingers.  "Oo... a gift from my King! I am the luckiest of all wood-sprites." He grinned.

Obearon raised an eyebrow and stifled a laugh. "Or maybe I shouldn't. Maybe I should find myself a willing little water sprite and have him all night."

Phuck pouted. "O my King..." He sat up, wings spread. "Fare well, then, o my King." And disappeared.

Obearon opened his mouth to tell Phuck that he was joking, but before he could get a word out, Phuck was gone. Guilt twisted at his gut and he let out a sigh. He hadn't meant to hurt the little wood sprite. He wanted desperately to go to him, but decided that it might to best to let him calm down first. Obearon closed his eyes and pretended to rest.


Phuck had been flitting all over the kingdom, feeling more restless than usual. Normally he returned to his cave to sleep away the day, but for some reason, he felt like sleeping in the sun instead, so he made a new nest every dawn in the top of a different tree. Even at night, he didn't feel like playing his usual pranks, but found secret places in the wood to dance by himself, and to eat things that had never tasted good to him before. If he was the sort of sprite who thought about such things, he'd wonder why.

But he was not.

So he didn't.


King Obearon paced the length of his throne room, every few seconds looking out the window. But as always, except for a view of sky, it was empty. There was no happy little wood sprite flitting through it to accept 'punishment' nor were there birds bringing news that he had been found. Obearon growled and continued pacing.

"O king, look what I found!" Phuck walked into the throne room, with a willow basket in his arms.

"Phuck!" Obearon rushed over to the wood sprite. "Where have you been? I've been looking for you." He stopped when something inside of the basket moved. "What did you find?"

"Him!" Phuck pushed aside milk-weed fluff to reveal a grinning baby with a headful of curly dark hair. "Isn't he beautiful? I woke up one night and there he was, o King. He reminded me of you, so I brought him so you could see him."

Obearon looked at Phuck, his eyes widening, then he stared down at the baby. He was about to accuse Phuck of stealing a human child, not uncommon among the fairy world, when something in the child's grin stopped him. "What do you mean that you woke up one night and there he was? Is he your child, Phuck? Is he our child?"

"I found him. He's mine." Phuck picked the baby up out of the basket, and showed the child's back to the king. There were two fluffy pink bulges. Phuck grinned and cooed in the baby's face. The baby kicked and gurgled back at him. "He's going to have lovely wings. I had to walk and walk, once I found him, o King." He looked down sadly at the remains of his gossamer and cobweb slippers. "And I wasn't feeling very good so it took a long time. But I knew you'd like to see him." He grinned, and put the baby back in the basket and started to leave.

"Wait!" Obearon added softly, "Wait. Could I hold him?"

"Oh! Oh, yes, my King." Phuck picked up the baby and offered him to the King. "He's a very good baby. He likes milkweed sap, and nectar."

"Yes, yes, he would." Obearon took the child from Phuck and rocked him gently. "A strong child, a healthy child." He whispered, "Hello, little one. I'm your father." The baby gurgled and laughed. "Taking care of a baby is hard work, Phuck. Wouldn't you like some help?" He looked up and held the baby against his chest. "I could help you. After all, you must still feel a bit sick."

"Well..." Phuck looked at the baby. "He's the first really special thing I've ever had..." He looked at the king. "But... he likes you. We could share him." He grinned at the baby, who gurgled and smiled back. "Yes," he said, "yes."

Obearon sighed in relief and rocked the baby again. He looked at Phuck intently and noticed that he looked pale. He walked over and touched him gently on the cheek. "How long have you been walking?"

Phuck thought about it. "Since the new moon. But I had to keep stopping to find milkweed and nectar, so we didn't go very fast." He tickled the baby. "He wanted to go faster. He likes birds."

Obearon smiled. "I'm sure he does." He leaned forward and kissed Phuck. "I missed you. Would you like to live here in the castle with me? I could have the birds bring the baby milkweed and nectar. And you could stay in my room with me. Or have your own if you'd like."

"Stay in one room?" Phuck looked very nervous. "I don't think he'd be happy always in." His wings moved restlessly. "He likes moving..."

"No, I know. I just thought this could be your home. You could sleep here, with me. And he's very young, Phuck. He can't move around by himself. What happens if on your travels you can't find milkweed or nectar?"

"Oh!" That was a new thought. "But then he'd be hungry!" Phuck's wings were agitated. "If we stay, I can take him out in the gardens? And teach him to fly when he's ready?"

"Yes, any time you wanted to. Because this would be your home, and his home too. He could be the prince. And when he grows up, he could be the king."

"Oh! You really like him, too?" Phuck grinned and kissed Obearon. "I hoped you would."

Obearon stroked the baby's head. "I love him. I love you too."

"Oh! O my King!" Phuck was so pleased his wings buzzed.

"Will our baby have wings like yours?" He ran his fingers through the child's hair, checking his scalp... yes, he'd grow horns when he was old enough.

Phuck shrugged, flapping his wings a bit. "I don't think just like mine." He thought very, very hard. "My mather had butterfly wings. All blue-green and shining." He thought even harder, then got tired, and stopped. "I think everybody has different wings."

"Maybe he'll have fairy wings, like my mother." Obearon paused. "What's his name?"

"He didn't tell me." Phuck looked at Obearon hopefully. "Did he tell you?"

"Let me see if he'll tell me." Obearon leaned in and the baby gurgled.  "He wants to know if you like 'Dain'."

"Oh, yes, that's a pretty name." Phuck kissed the baby on the top of his head. "I think Dain is hungry again. And needs new milkweed fluff in his basket."

"I'll have someone take care of it." He frowned. "Are you tired? Would you like to sleep?"

"Oh. Yes, my King." He thought for a moment. He was getting a headache from all this thinking. "Once I found Dain, I couldn't sleep. I was afraid I'd lose him. But you won't lose him, will you?"

Obearon smiled. "No, I won't lose him. Why don't we all go up to my bedchambers and rest? The servants can bring up Dain's sap and nectar. That way we can all be together, like a proper family."

Phuck wasn't quite sure what a 'family' was, but it sounded nice. He grinned and yawned, and then blinked in surprise. "Oh, my King..." He yawned again. "Would it be all right if I sleep in your bed?"

"What a wonderful idea! Yes, I think you should." He trilled softly and a small grey bird flew in and landed on his shoulder. He whispered to it softly, then it flew away again. "Megs will tell the servants to bring Dain something to eat. Let's get you into bed."

Phuck smiled and yawned again. "I'm glad I brought Dain to you." He fluttered his wings, then giggled.  "I think I'm too tired to fly. Isn't that silly, my King?"

"You've been walking a long time." Obearon kissed Phuck. Then he arranged it so that he was carrying Dain in one arm and twined the other around Phuck's. "I'm glad you brought Dain to me too. And that you came back." He tugged gently.  "Time for bed."

Phuck leaned against Obearon and followed, smiling. He was so sleepy his eyelids slid shut as he trustingly allowed Obearon to guide him.

Obearon walked slowly, balancing Dain and maneuvering Phuck up the stairs. Trust, Phuck was so trusting. Obearon made sure that he didn't trip over the hallway rug or the threshold to his bedchambers. He led Phuck over to the bed. "Get on the bed. No acrobatics this time." He laid Dain on the covers and settled next to him. He watched the baby, tickling his belly.

Phuck woke up enough to semi-collapse onto the bed, careful even in his grogginess not to bounce the baby. His wings shivered once, then folded up neatly along his back. He wriggled onto his side and reached out to stroke Dain's head lightly. "Good night, Dain." He smiled at Obearon.  "Good night, o my King." He shut his eyes and fell asleep.

Obearon smiled at Phuck and said softly, "Good night." Then he said to Dain, "And it'll be good night for you too, after we feed you." Dain gurgled and smiled.

(Afterword)
This story was fun for me, not least of all because of all the things that weren't written, but which Phuck whispered and giggled into my ears.

If anyone's interested in how Phuck had Dain...

Phuck's wings are the answer. When Obearon stimulated them cells from Obearon's hands were scraped off by the edges of the wings and landed between them. The vibrations of Phuck's 'song' acted on a cellular level, fusing Obearon's cells with Phuck's. The fetus grew on Phuck's back, between his wings.

Phuck, being a flying fairy, is incredibly air-headed (I mean, look how he took Obearon's little joke seriously), and works mainly by instinct (I can't help thinking of him in the present tense, he's still flitting around somewhere, giggling). When the baby was born, it emerged from a 'pod' on Phuck's back. Phuck woke up and found the baby, and instinctively loved it... and knew he needed help with it, so he went to Obearon, but by the time he got there, he'd forgot why he went.

His instincts at least are very sound. Phuck would have fought like a tiger to protect the baby.

Obearon wed Phuck and made him Queen of the Fairies. Phuck was very pleased because he liked the crown he got to wear. Phuck continued semi-regularly being astonished by the discovery of a baby in the bed. I don't think he ever did make the connection between making love and babies.

Some of the kids were also total air-heads (very pretty and kind-hearted and bugger all useless), but fortunately some of them took after their father, or else the kingdom would have gone right down the tubes when Dain took over.

One more thing--there was a war between the Fairies and the goblins. Phuck didn't like the idea of
Obearon leading the troops to war (I think it interfered with the Apple Blossom festival or something else dear to Phuck's heart) so Phuck sneaked out with a squadron of equally air-headed flying sprites, who dumped honey all over the enemy troops and sicced the bees on them, thereby winning the
war in an afternoon.