Here it is Wednesday. Again. Wasn’t it just Wednesday like…yesterday? Time is blowing by so fast. January is almost over. Winter is just starting–at least weather wise. Some wag once said, “Time waits for no man–or woman.” We still have snow. At the rate the temps are going, we’ll have it until like…April. All that aside, I do have new words to share, aaaand they are award-winning. I took the “blue ribbon” in last week’s Thursday Threads challenge. This was the 691 week of the challenge and I’ve won 81 times. (I didn’t get into it until it was around 300 weeks.) Anyway, since I also won the time before, the prompt came from my snippet and is: *”Do not get in my way.”* I’ll leave the set-up for this scene to your imaginations.

****
Ariel sprawled on the boulder, the very essence of insouciance. This was a role he knew well, having played it at court for hundreds of years. The dark fae stared at him. His only response was to arch one brow—a sure invitation to challenge him

Bran sighed inwardly. He hated these games. “Stand down, Orin.” The other fae did not respond so Bran cuffed him across the back of his head. The gesture earned him a growl.

“What’s the matter, Bran Fox? Mutiny in the ranks of the Queen’s Ravens?” Ariel drawled out the taunt, sarcasm evident in his tone.

“No more than usual. I do, however, find it interesting that the King’s Seducer has been reduced to a mere errand boy—and one who has failed to retrieve his target.”

Orin snarled at both of them. “Let me kill him and then we will be done with this.”

Ariel’s laughter rang out, as sweet as steeple bells chiming the hour. “You can try, Odhran Carragh, but I’ll not be caught in your trap so easily.”

Bran took a mental step back. How did Ariel know Orin’s true name? He grabbed the back of Orin’s leather jacket just as the man lunged toward Ariel. He flexed his magic and Orin stilled.

Sliding off the boulder, Ariel faced them, his face expressionless though power reverberated in his words. “Do not get in my way. And tell Mab her time is coming.”

“Tell Oberon the same. My queen is indeed coming, whether her time or not.”
****

I think the gauntlet has been thrown. What happens next will be interesting. At least I hope so becaue honestly? I haven’t figured that part out yet. Ah, the joys of being a closet pantser under the guise of being a puzzler. Time–and words–will tell. In the meantime, writers, write should that be your desire. I will not get in your way. Readers, what would you like to get out of the way so you can just sit and read?