I stood on my balcony, looking down into our backyard. The moonlight softly illuminated my garden, casting graceful shadows all along the late Summer growth. I sighed quietly, sipping at my tea.

A pair of strong, warm arms slipped around my waist and a solid body pressed up against my back. His beard tickled the bare skin of my neck as he placed a kiss behind my ear.

“Whatcha doin’?” He asked in a playful tone.

“I was enjoying the peace and quiet.” I replied drily as I sat my mug down on the table.

“You’re ignoring me again.”

“I am not. You were playing your video game. I came out here to watch the moon rise.”

“You were ignoring me.”

“What are you, two?”

“Pay attention to me.”

I snorted and rolled my eyes at his playfully petulant tone. He turned me in his arms so I could look at him. I rolled my eyes again. He grinned at me mischievously.

“Your horns are showing.” I stated drolly.

“Must be the full moon.” He waggled his eyebrows at me. I felt his hands in my hair, removing the Scrunchie I’d had in it. I sighed softly as he ran his fingers through the thick, heavy mass. I ran a light finger over the tip of one of his ears.

“Your ears are showing, too.” I murmured as his fingers massaged the back of my neck. I only got a deep chuckle in reply.

I sighed as he pulled me closer, beginning to sway with me. The faint, soft whisper of flute music, wild and haunting teased the edges of my mind. I closed my eyes and slipped my arms around him, resting my head on his shoulder.

He danced with me slowly, gracefully; his hands gentle as he caressed my back and shoulders. The night was quiet around us, as was the household. I felt the rug under my bare feet as he twirled me slowly into the living room. I could feel the hush come over the animals as they raised their heads to watch us. Even the ferrets were quiet for once.

I didn’t look up at him. I knew if I did, I’d see the feral cast to his features, the pointed ears and the emerald bright eyes that had caught me fast so many, many years before. Witches weren’t supposed to let themselves be trapped by the Sidhe. At the time, I hadn’t much cared, being in a very bad place in my mind after being betrayed by the triumvirate I’d been bonded to.

The stories said any witch caught by a Sidhe would become enslaved and forever lose his or her powers. Better to be dead, the stories said, than to endure the torture and evils of the Sidhe.

He’d laughed at what he’d seen in my mind. His eyes had twinkled merrily as he’d scooped me up in his arms and carried me, uncaring, across the barren field to a small, cozy cottage I hadn’t noticed before. An old woman had sat in a rocking chair, knitting. She’d looked up with those same green eyes as he’d carried me inside and raised a snowy white eyebrow.

“Look what I found, Mother.” He’d said in a teasing tone. “Can I keep her?”

The woman had rolled her eyes at him, muttered something in ancient Gaelic and thus had begun my re-education.

We came to a stop in the middle of the living room, still swaying gently. The music teasing the edge of my awareness was becoming softer, more sensuous. I raised my head to look him full in the face. His lips curved up in a mischievous, seductive smile.

“Do ye wish to be free o’ me, Little Witch?” He asked in a husky voice.

“Why do you ask the same stupid question every year?” I grumped out irritably. “You know the answer, MacKenzie.”

“Ye still ha’ to say the words, Little Witch.”

“No, I do not wish to be free of you, Husband. Not now, not next year and a day, not ever.”

He kissed me then, and I could literally feel the collective sigh of relief the household seemed to let out, as if it had been holding its breath the entire time.

His kiss turned serious and he scooped me up in his arms, carrying me to our bedroom. When he lay me down and I gazed up at him, his Sidhe features were still in place. My breath caught in my throat. I knew what that meant, even if he was only half-Sidhe. He paused, staring down at me intently, and I felt the household seem to hold its collective breath once again.

“An’ ye’ll bear me a son, Wife?” He asked hoarsely, holding himself still above me.

“Stupid man and your stupid questions.” I growled out and raised myself up on my elbows. “I actually hope it’s a girl just exactly like *you*. So, yeah, baby me up.”

He snorted on a laugh and kissed me again. The stillness of the night seemed to melt back into normal sounds as my husband buried his face in my neck, giving in to deep laughter. I rolled my eyes, sighing impatiently, yet slipped my arms around his back, holding him close.

He’d eventually get around to his husbandly duties.

5. Familiar Surroundings