Well, I decided to create an OC because I wanted a different perspective of Keenan's infant days in Beira's court. Someone who could observe and interact with the other characters. So here it is! :D

Chapter One

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The sprite was small, even for her kind. She had thick black hair that was more a mess than anything. She was constantly pulling it back into a leather hair band, but it didn't seem to cooperate. Consequently she always seemed a little disheveled.

Or maybe that was because she was.

Running back and forth as the Queen's personal maid was quite an experience. There always seemed to be something to do that required her silence. And more often than not she was rewarded with a month's worth of bruises.

"Blaithan!"

The sprite rushed from where she was pouring a cold drink to her Queen's side.

"Yes, my Queen?"

Beira, Queen of the Winter Court, gave the sprite a mocking smile. "You're sweet, little Blyth. And very slow." The smile froze. "Where's my drink?"

"Coming, Your Highness."

"Your Highness, Your Majesty, My Queen…all very proper and polite. But not worth a fig if you can't serve me my drink on time. Oh well, I'll get it myself. Go see to the little monster. Maybe your singing will stop his screeching."

Beira waved her hand, dismissing the sprite without another glance. Blyth took the moment to sprint away, grateful her Queen wasn't in a very violent mood. If she had been, one wrong word would've sent her sprawling. The bruise on her right leg proved it.

There was a cry in the next room and Blythe hesitated. She peered in and nodded toward the healer there. He was bending over the snowy cradle in concentration. The crying did not stop.

"Perhaps he is hungry." Blyth suggested in a whisper.

"You need not whisper, Blaithan." The healer grimaced. "This little Prince is making enough noise for that."

"I didn't know faery children could cry so much." She stepped in closer, curious as always to see the little faery. "I suppose none of us know what to do."

"None of us has seen a faery child."

Despite his current state, something about the little being made Blyth's heart twinge. He was so small.

"Beira sent me here. She said maybe my singing will soothe him."

The healer nodded. "One thing I can never understand, is how you always seem to calm him with your voice."

Blyth moved closer until she looked down at the infant and smiled. "He just needs some attention.

The healer threw up his hands in exasperation. "Don't we always give him attention?"

"Only when he cries, which is rarely if you've been keeping track." Blyth hesitated. "And its not you he wants attention from."

The two Winter fey were silent then. They both knew what Blyth was speaking of. Beira came only once to see her son in all the weeks since she had returned from the Dark Court. Blyth wondered at her Queen's motives. She had been present when Beira asked a favor of the Dark King. A binding. That was what the Winter Queen had said. But Blyth had been told to leave and couldn't imagine what had transpired in the Dark King Irial's chambers. A part of her didn't want to know.

"Hush, Keenan." Blyth murmured as the healer left the room. It was empty now, and Blyth relaxed. She would settle the little Prince, as she always did.

The song she chose was one she had heard while picking berries for her Queen, one of the few tasks she enjoyed due to the distance it put between them. Because she had heard it from a Summer faery, she was careful to lower her voice. It was a beautiful melody nonetheless, even as it spoke of golden skies and green meadows. It was also the same song she used every time the infant cried.

The little Prince squirmed in his crib as Blyth sang. Without hesitation she reached out and gently picked him up, knowing she was one of the few fey who would. She held the baby close, soothing his cries.

"Come now, Keenan." She whispered, rocking the sun-bright child back and forth. "Your mother would not take kindly to a finicky little Prince."

The baby quieted, looking up at the small sprite with large, amber eyes. Every day they seemed to change. Yesterday they were so green they looked like the mossy-banks of Ireland's lakes. Now, it was like thousands of sun-beams radiated through Blyth's body.

Keenan smiled at her, his baby cheeks red with crying. Blyth hugged him closer, making him gurgle in delight.

She sighed. "She is still your mother, little Keenan. No matter how cruel she may be."

But the little Prince could not understand her. He was a child; a tiny helpless infant in a cruel, hard world of ice. It did not help that his father was once a powerful Summer King. He was gone now, proof of Beira's wicked manner, and his child was at her mercy.

Holding the little faery in her arms, Blyth felt the tears welling in her eyes. No one would be there for him, not really. He was all alone in a world that would hurt him. It was not fair, and despite her head reminding her of her duty, she blocked out all common sense and promised herself one thing. She alone would be his one protection, his safeguard against all the pain others would try to inflict on him. In all the weeks Beira had saddled him off on Blyth, she had grown to love the little Prince as her own. Every time he was away her arms ached to hold him and keep him safe from Beira's tantrums and foul moods.

"Don't be afraid, little one." She murmured, kissing the child's small forehead. She could feel the warmth of his little body. "You shall never be harmed. Beira may be your mother and my queen, but I will cross her if she ever hurts you."

And with that, Blyth sealed her promise. He was her world now. She would care for him as his own mother did not.

Aw :( Poor baby Keenan. Alot of people don't like him in the books, but I feel sorry for him. Growing up with Beira as a mom has got to scar you a little. :/

Reviews anyone? XD