As with all women of a certain age, there's a place in my . . . heart for Legolas. Don't get me wrong, I wouldn't do Orlando Bloom in any other guise or shape, but give me tall, blonde and pointy ears, and I will make any number of questionable life choices.

Every time Merlin had mentioned 'the Fae', that was the image I had in mind. At a pinch - hey, it's been a dry spell - I was even willing to climb aboard Noddy with enough sympathetic back-lightning and assuming Big Ears was around to finish me off.

My dear, some things do not need to be verbalised.

Thus, when our scouts reported the approach of a small delegation of Fae, my hopes were pretty high. If I tell you I went so far as to change into my cleanest set of undergarments and run my hands through my hair once or twice, you will appreciate the lengthy self-care routine I went through in order to make a good impression.

And first impressions were good.

I mean, seriously good. There were five of these impossibly beautiful things waiting for us when we reached the bottom of my hill. All the kings were there - Mark had even been bothered to walk, that's how important it was - and although there'd been an initial 'hurrumph' at me accompanying them, they'd seen sense.

Or I threw a massive tantrum and threatened to burn them all where they stood.

It was one of the two.

It was impossible to tell the Fae apart at first glance. Each was just over six feet tall and channelling some significant Scandinavian chic. Lots of white skin, lots of blue eyes and blonde hair, and lots of cheek and jaw bones that would have been effective offensive weapons.

After a few moments of ogling, though, I could tell there were some differences between them.

For a start, there were two men and three women. The latter wore a subtly different clothing style, with their overshifts a good half-foot longer, extending below the waist and belted in a thick leather cord. Likewise, the ladies seemed to favour bows, whereas the men appeared to be unarmed.

I focused on the men - of course you did, my dear - and had a brief moment of fantasy fulfilment. This continued all the way until the first of them stepped forward and made it clear he fucking hated us.

"You have profaned this sacred field with poisonous magic. Your filthy blood stains our precious earth, and your very presence throws the land into chaos. We wish nothing more than your immediate death!"

As opening go, it was a vibe.

We'd briefly discussed how to play this, but no one had expected the Fae equivalent of 'my name is Inigo Montoya, you killed my father, prepare to die.'

As if sensing our confusion, one of the women stepped forward. "Not that we are not grateful for your actions against the goblins. However, we had gathered our own forces to scourge them from our territory, and there are some of us -" she glanced at the first speaker - "who would advocate that we now fall upon you."

Her voice was high and musical, quite different from the first Fae's dark rumble and, oddly, she had a slight Irish accent. I was basically talking to Enya.

We all exchanged glances. We'd taken it as read that the Fae would be pleased we'd wiped out the goblins. It was our act of 'good faith' after all, and we were banking on it being the next Step on the quest for Caeldfwch. That our gift was being regarded in the saw way as if we were puppies proudly shitting in the middle of an expensive rug did not feel ideal.

A second of the female Fae added her voice. "We have been sent to discover your intentions and determine whether action is required."

The first Fae - who I was going to go out on a limb and say was not a fan of humans - immediately spoke up. "The Council has made clear their feelings. We are to destroy these vermin - "

"Maewyn," the third female raised a hand and placed it on the angry Fae's shoulder, "things are not always so black and white. We have been given discretion here, my son. Do not let your previous experiences cloud your judgement."

Son? The Fae who had spoken looked the same age as the man she sought to calm. It appeared Fae don't crack. Yeah, that was funnier before I said it.

A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

Maewyn shrugged her hand off his shoulder and pointed an angry finger at me. "That was before they corrupted the land and twisted it for their own purposes. The only possible response is to cleanse them from the world."

I felt him channel a massive wodge of Wood Qi. He pulled it - not, that wasn't quite right. What he did was nothing as crude as 'pull'. It was like he simply asked the world around him to give him enough energy to nuke us back to kingdom come, and the land presented it to him in a nice shiny bow. It was the most beautifully elegant bit of cultivation I had ever seen, and I almost forgot to wade in with some countermeasures.

Almost. But not quite.

I felt his Wood Qi coalesce around him. I knew that if I let him do anything with it, we'd be history. Even if the other Fae were pissed off with him for jumping the gun, I doubted we'd rank too highly in the scheme of things for them to do much more than shake their beautiful, porcelain face in regret.

So, rather than become a sad little anecdote about the time Maewyn shat the bed at the next Fae dinner party, I did something about it.

I took the Qi off him.

Well, that's a ballsy move, my dear.

"Ballsy as in, 'well played Morgan. Another of your classic clutch moves, which once again saved the day.' Or ballsy as in 'fuck me, man the lifeboats.'"

A little early to tell. But good luck.

And I needed the wellwishing. This Wood Qi was weird. It tasted of newly mown grass and spring water when I dragged it into my Artist's Studio. It slotted nicely into my channels and cycled as smoothly as you like. But that's where the good news stopped. I was used to Qi acting like liquid paint, but Maewyn's stuff was hard. Like 'ice water from the top of a mountain peak', hard. There was no soft woodiness to it. It was like the thickest of thick peat bog and it was now completely blocking me up. There was literally nothing I could do with it. I had thought my Qi concentration had thickened up nicely, but this was evidence of how very far a Harry was from being a deal in the world of cultivation.

Even holding it in my Artist's Studio was painful. I could feel my body start to shake worse than my nastiest-ever detox.

Surprisingly, Maewyn did not react well to me interfering with his attempted death spell. This was odd, as he appeared so chill in all other ways. He was giving off the energy of someone who had never had anything taken off him in his life. His pale blue eyes opened in shock at the audacity of a lower form of life interfering with him and then narrowed in hate as I actually pulled it off.

Something told me I wouldn't be getting the Fae fucking I had hoped for in the near future. At least, not the enjoyable sort.

While I wrestled with what the hell to do with this massive block of ancient Qi sitting in the middle of my core going nowhere - I'd managed to absorb fucking dragon Qi! What on earth was this stuff! - a sword appeared in his hand and thrust straight at me.

It was at this stage that I'm willing to admit things went a touch awry.

Arthur whipped his spear around to deflect the blow, shouting in outrage at the unexpected assault. He obviously didn't know what had happened with my preemptive Qi gobbling, and it just seemed like this guy was whaling on me for no reason.

The spear was effortlessly chopped in two, but it bought me a second to whip out Drynwyn and bring it to guard position.

"This is going to need to be all you, mate," I said. I was concentrating too hard on figuring out what to do with Maewyn's Qi to fight as well.

Makes a fucking change, don't it? All our other duels have just been me sitting back and you showing off your hundreds of years of experienced swordsmanship. It's going to be nice to fucking do something rather than be a passenger in this relationship.

You know what? I think I preferred it when Drynwyn felt a bit down about things and wanted to make amends. Nevertheless, I was glad to hand over the reins, especially as I couldn't even follow the clash of blades that followed.

I knew I was fighting because both my arms were moving in a blur, but that was all I could see. I decided to concentrate on something I could affect.

"Big M, I'm looking for options."

Previous few I can think of, my dear. You will not be able to cultivate from this Qi. I doubt even I would have been able to. It's simply too dense.

"Can we focus on what I can do, rather than what I can't!" My arms were getting tired. If I was hoping for someone to step in and call a halt, I was destined to be pretty fucking disappointed. The other kings - other than Arthur - would be delighted for me to be chopped to pieces, and Arthur was now disarmed. I risked a glance at the other Fae, hoping for some help there. However, although they were watching with looks of disappointment on their faces, there was clearly going to be no interference from that quarter.

Two choices. You slowly let the Fae Qi diffuse out from your core, a little at a time until it is all gone.

"How does the longest far in history help me right now?" I was drenched in sweat and couldn't physically keep the defence up much longer.

Fucking wuss.

Or you give it him back.

"How is letting this bastard have a massive amount of Qi going to help keep us all alive?!"

I did not say give it back to him gently.

Sold. I gathered up the alien Wood Qi in my metaphorical arms - it weighed a megatonne - lifted it free from my core, and threw it back with everything I had.

It would be fair to note this gambit took him by surprise. His head snapped up at suddenly having full channels, and his immaculate footwork missed a step under the unexpected weight of Qi.

It wasn't much, but Drynwyn was a fucking Treasure of Britain. It twisted in my hands and sent the Fae's sword swinging away. As it then snaked upwards for his throat, I used the last ounce of my physical energy to turn the blade flat so that it blooted him on the side of the head rather than do something even I could tell would have diplomatic repercussions.

Maewyn fell bonelessly to the ground.

There was an awkward silence until the fifth Fae spoke up, his voice a pleasing middle ground between the women's alto and Maewyn's bass.

"Well, now that is over, why don't we talk properly?"