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1 " Both of you be safe," Nessa said, looking to Turner. " Welcome to my messed up home, by the way." " Messed up?" Turner asked. " They seem like a loving bunch, all willing to kill each other off. What's family if there isn't any drama?" Turner winked at Nessa, and she nodded in reply. Drama was what the sidhe were all about. "
2 " Santa was dead, to begin with. There was no doubt whatsoever about that. The after-action report was signed by the field commander, the director of operations, the secretary of the Office of Sidhe Affairs, and the chief battle-mage. Janus had signed it — and Janus’s word could be counted upon for anything he chose to put his name to. Old Saint Nicholas, the Sidhe Lord of the Yuletide, was as dead as a door-nail.It didn’t stick. "
3 " In Tybalt's case, it means bloody control of the local Court of Cats. He became their king by right of blood; he's held the position by beating the crap out of anyone who tries to take it away. The Cait Sidhe take a more direct and bloody approach to succession than most of Faerie. "
― Seanan McGuire , Rosemary and Rue (October Daye, #1)
4 " The stranded Daoine Sidhe knights of the Dark Court gathered at the ring of ancient standing stones under the pale light of the harvest moon. Whenever the Daoine Sidhe gathered, they raised the natural energies of the world around them. "
― Thea Harrison , Moonshadow (Moonshadow, #1)
5 " Those same women tell me I am too short to be beautiful,” I traced my hands across my breasts, “they say my breasts are too large,” I traced down my waist to my hips, “that I curve in places they do not,” I traced down my thighs. Sidhe women don’t have thighs. I let my hair fall across my face as I moved, so that my eyes gazed at him half hidden behind the scarlet of my hair. “They tell me I am ugly.”He spilled out of his chair, dumping his queen to the floor. He roared, “Who says these things? I will crush their jaws and see them choke on their own lies!”The outrage on his face, the trembling rage of him—I took it for the compliment it was. I realized in that moment that Kurag might want me for more than just politics or supernatural bloodlines. In that heartbeat, I thought that maybe, just maybe, the Goblin King loved me, in an odd sort of way. I had expected many things today, but not love.I don’t know why, but I suddenly realized there were tears trailing down my face. Crying because some goblin had offered to defend my honor? I gazed up at Kurag, and I let him see what was in my face, my eyes, all of it. Because I realized that I still didn’t believe I was beautiful. The guards wanted me because to be without me was to be celibate. They pursued me so they might be king. None of them wanted me, for me. Maybe that was unfair, but how would I ever know why they came to my bed? I looked at Kurag and knew that here was a man who’d known me since I was a child, and he thought I was beautiful, and worth defending, and he would never bed me, never be my king. Knowing that anyone adored me, just for me, meant something. Something I had no words for, but I let Kurag see that I valued it. That I valued him, and how he felt about me. "