He gestured, and the crowd parted.  All eyes fell on her.  When she stepped forward, she had to be careful, her longer legs unfamiliar.  Staying young had come with benefits.  The Crone, Schwarze Tante, had been able to give Ciara some of the time she’d stored away.

...

The rest would take getting used to, after thirty years as the childlike Faerie Queen, but the wings were a natural fit from the start.

Wildbow, Worm, E.1