Chapter 33 begins with Merry and crew taking the black coach back to her hotel outside of Faerie. Due to what happened in the throne room, all Merry’s guards are covered in their weapons. Frost is wearing his great sword, Geamhradh Po’g/Winter Kiss. When used, the sword would steal the fey’s passion, leaving them cold and passionless, without a spark of life. Doyle drove, with Rhys in the front seat, leaving Merry, Frost, Galen, and Kitto in the back seat.
Merry is cuddled up with Galen, but when she leans against him she feels him tense. Although he heals quickly, he is still covered head to toe in demi-fey bites, so the cuddling isn’t very comfortable. Frost very succinctly tells Merry that he is unharmed, inviting her to cuddle. This surprises Merry. Frost had always been, well, cold (GET IT) to her, and she would never have taken him for the cuddling type. Merry goes to sit next to him, and they do that weird third-date thing where neither person is yet comfortable with the other, so they have no idea where to place their hands, where to rest their arms, etc. Eventually Merry laughs at the sheer absurdity of their cuddling, and Frost gets fucking pouty and withdraws from her.
Merry tries to explain why she found it funny, and Frost cuts her off abruptly. “I know why you laughed.” he pouts, and then CROSSES HIS ARMS AND CURLS UP NEXT TO THE FUCKING CAR DOOR. LIKE A CHILD.
Merry is a much more patient woman than me, because I would fucking open the door and let him fall the fuck out if I were in this situation. There is nothing I hate more than when people ACT like this.
So Merry scoots closer to Frost and gently places her hand on his shoulder. Frost turns to look at her from beneath his hair, like a fucking petulant teenage girl. Merry tells Frost that they’re at that “awkward first-date phase” (first? Merry you whore) and since they’ve never held hands or hugged or even kissed, they are not sure how to be comfortable with one another. That the cuddling becomes easier and better as they become more comfortable with each other. Frost warms a little at this, and then tells Merry and Galen that he had been Andais’s consort 800 years ago. For 27 years he was hers, until she tossed him to the side, and after that he completely shut himself off from anyone, abstaining from anyone’s touch. For 800 years. He explains that he does not have any idea how to start “dating” someone.
To comfort Frost, Merry then holds him and caresses him like a mother would to her young child, cooing “It’s okay, it’ll be okay” into his ears. Weird. As Frost becomes more comfortable with Merry, he starts running his hands over her, and they eventually begin kissing, soft at first, and then fiercely. Frost eventually picks Merry up and sets her straddling his lap. They eventually stop, and when Merry turns to look at Galen, he’s just sitting there staring, wide mouthed, at them.
Merry then goes back into cuddling with Frost, and now it’s more comfortable and easier, however Merry’s injured ankle is causing her a little pain, so Galen offers up his crotch to be Merry’s foot pillow. So, she’s laying there, cuddling and caressing Frost, while playing with Galen’s body with her feet. They’re all sort of chatting about how lucky Merry was that the spell that caused her to twist her ankle wasn’t stronger, and that Galen and Doyle were there to catch her fall, and Merry starts daydreaming about grinding her foot into Galen’s injured dick. Like, maliciously thinking this, but, she doesn’t do it.
Kitto then makes his presence known again. Merry had nearly forgotten about him, as he had been crouched to the side of the coach, huddle up against one of the doors like a fearful child. He’s about the same height and size as an eight year old, and often throughout these books Merry even makes reference to the fact that if she didn’t know any better she’d think Kitto WAS a young child, which is totally cool, having a character – a 2000 year old goblin – look like an eight year old kid, that Merry gets to fuck. Not cool again, LKH. This is almost too close to pedophilia for ANYONE’S TASTES. ANYONE’S.