A Beautiful - More like Maddening - Partnership
Prologue
It wasn't everyday Dresden gets a peace of mind in his sleep, but lucky him... for tonight was different.
"Have a seat, Mr. Dresden," the voice called, Scottish, was it?
Only he didn't and preferred standing as he stared at the dreamscape around him. It reminded him more of the Never-Never... well his memories of it. Oh boy, wonder what omnipotent bastard had decided to take interest in him. Feeling ballsy and quite so fed up, he politely refused. His mind, his rule, right? "I... rather not." Harry noticed the flash of eyes behind the haze of shimmering gold mist.
Was it really wise to refuse the unknown here?
"I said, Mister Dresden," the voice darkened, switching to Irish, "Take. A. Seat."
A chair slammed against the back of his knees, forcing him into the seat and like in the Beauty and the Beast, its legs moved in a jostle, and suddenly he was at a tea party that was before him and was more befitting for a girl named Alice to attend.
"Now... that wasn't hard, was it?" The man huffed, gold shimmering smokes swirled out of his mouth when he took an old Chinese ebony pipe from his lips. His eyes gazed distastefully at him when he inspected his state. "Well, less annoying than your better-groomed one," he muttered aloud before glancing to his side.
Okay, it was not like in every dream he saw the double version of him - his unconscious, intuition, AKA bastard version of himself - tied to the chair, gagged with thorny vines and blooming flowers of all kind. A prisoner. Bastard him looked back at him with wide eyes. Remarkable how even without his mouth opened he was already telling him shit.
Don't. Fuck. This. Up. Harry!
As much as he liked seeing the state of his intuition being tied up in the chair, it did send an alarm and finally got Dresden to pay extra attention than he really was. For someone to manipulate his mind past Demonreach's own defenses and what lingers of threshold he has, that goes against everything Dresden had experienced.
Freedom. Choice. He always had that. Only to be a prisoner… He hoped whoever that sat across him was a benevolent being.
"What do you want?" Harry asked, observing ye olde bastard who was amusedly smirking at him.
He was dressed oddly in a green rich waistcoat. Gold chains and buttons with a white silky shirt that more belonged in the Medieval era. Brown chestnut hair, an appearance of an Italian-descent, a thirty-years-old gentleman displaced out of his time. But it was his eyes. Inverted a pair of human's eyes, the white parts black, the pupils black slits instead of round, and the worrying heterochromatic iris that made it all the more inhuman. Gold and icy-blue eyes hawked him. They were dizzying and drew attention to them than it was wise to do so.
"Do you know who I am?" the man asked, smiling softly, ignoring his questions entirely.
Another alarming part. Never he recalled a being like him, but even in dreams, he sensed enough to know that he was way above than he could handle. But on what level, he doesn't know, and what he doesn't know... can kill him. His intuition was silenced and tied up, left him with no inkling to grasp who or what being could force his own mind to become a tea party.
"No," Harry confessed quietly. "Sir," he added. The man seemed to be pleased with his polite response.
"Wonderful manners you have," he applauded then his face fell into open scrutiny.
Harry Dresden wasn't quite sure how to take that.
"I'll cut it to the business, Wizard," the man said sharply. "I need your service."
"I take it you read the advertisement in the phonebook," Dresden muttered softly.
"Oh yes, I did. But a little old dragon recommended you to me." The man chuckled, a laugh or laughs that intertwined to a jovial and a sinister voice. "My niece has been kidnapped." He gave a grimacing and a surprising worried look. "I ask you to find her... or him, it's hard to say with dragons these days," he added the last part sourly.
"Have you tried the police?" Dresden asked weakly. When dragons are involved, then it's best to stay the fuck out.
"That's the trouble here, Mister Dresden. Deities go around, no one bats an eye," the man began, frustrated. "But when I-" he pointed at himself, "-walk around, everyone loses their mind! " He shook his hands into the air in disgust. "And here I am, asking a mortal. Don't kid yourself, wizard," he interrupted when Dresden opened his mouth. "You have potential." The man pointed at him with a vicious shark-fanged grin. "All I ask is to find my godchild and I'll give you... all the gold you want." The being shrugged and smirked when he added, "I still have plenty left in my adventuring days."
"I'm afraid I can't make a contract to a... person I don't know," Harry added quickly. But really, he was getting a feeling he's going to have to run all across the USA to do this one job, and he wasn't eager to jump on that. Considering the nature of their meeting now, Harry did not need to warrant a guess that his future as of now is going to be more trouble than it was worth it - on top of everything else.
"I didn't even introduce myself," the man breathed this then looked at him with glinting eyes. "How rude of me! In your world, I've been known as Tedders. Theodore. And I do say I'm quite fond of that persona of mine, but... considering you want open honesty in your contract." Tedders grinned. "The name is Sheogorath, Daedric Prince of Madness, Mad-god. At your service." The Madgod gave a nod as if to bow.
The who and the what and the who?!
"As I was saying, Mister Dresden. My godchild, the Dragonborn has been stolen from the crib," Sheogorath continued, and quite frankly didn't give a damn care at the look Dresden was giving. "Name your price, wizard, and I'll give it fair and square." Said Daedric Prince though gave a hidden smirk at the last part.