"Hey Ixies!" (Patreon)

I yelled, and a group of them peeked over the top of one of the menhirs.  "You're making the lady uncomfortable!  Go away and give us some privacy."

"Can't do that, Sire," they replied.  "Spying is our duty as well as our pastime.  We are bound by an oath to oversee and protect thee, which supersedes any of thy commands.  Plus we also want to see thy legendary Wiles in action."

"Such insolence!" I fumed as they giggled and whispered amongst themselves.

"We like this femme, Sire," one of them sent via Elfmind.  "She hath Moxie.  Anyone who taketh the piss out of Typantronn is okay in our book."

"I can't get rid of them," I sighed, turning to Ethel.  "But think of it this way:  Having an audience makes things more exciting."

"Uhh.." Ethel started to protest.

"Just go srpinkle some more powder in that hole," I suggested.

And so we whiled away the afternoon blowing things up and setting things alight.  The way her eyes sparkled at each blast .. the way she giggled with delight when I ignited handfuls of powder which she tossed into the air .. with each combustion she became more relaxed, more warm, more adorable.  I didn't know who was using Wiles on whom, and I didn't care.  I wanted this moment to last forever.

As Ethel was beating out a wayward blaze on my sleeve, an Ixie buzzed up and saluted me.

"Yes?" I prompted after an awkward pause.  "I trust you are interrupting for a reason."

"Typantronn Smuchpepper Santocup reporting, Sire," the Ixie gasped.  "Thou art not going to believe this.  I did not believe it myself, but I flew on to Percysthorpe and beheld it with my own eyes."

"Go on."

"The town is surrounded by a hostile forest which was not there yesterday."

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