Landing where the bridge to the castle courtyard once connected to, Marianne smiles at the scene before her as the Dark Forest inhabitants dance and sing around the Lughnasa bonfires with enthusiasm. The songs for celebrating life resonate through her and she raises her face to the night sky with a deep sigh, fluttering her purple black-tipped wings.
After the day they've had, only a fool wouldn't celebrate being alive.
"Feeling better?" Bog questions as he walks toward her.
"Yes but you shouldn't have let me slept so long," Marianne murmurs.
"You needed your sleep," he counters.
"But I missed the start of the festival," she argues.
"No, you didn't. We only lit the bonfires but no one wanted to start the true celebrations without their queen," Bog explains, running his clawed hand through her hair. "It's also why you're here instead of back in the Light Field because everyone refused to come home without you."
"I was wondering why I woke up in the winter burrows instead of my old bedchamber," Marianne mentions, adjusting her hold on her groggy son to keep Goodfellow from dropping from his loose grip. "So what happened? The last thing I remember, I was hitting that aggravating King Dirk until he was cowering very nicely and then I wake up in our winter bedchambers with Puck curled beside me. And back to normal, I might add."
"It's kind of hard to explain," he murmurs. "It seemed that whatever was keeping us spelled had worn off with the danger passing and we both shrunk back to our normal selves but you had...well, not fainted or passed out but more that you had just fallen asleep where you stood. I caught you before you fell to the ground and Plum assured that you were only sleeping out of exhaustion. She even checked the infant and said everything is fine."
She breathes a sigh of relief at that. It had crossed her mind several times as she was evading the mountain fae that she might have been overexerting herself and she couldn't help the flash of fear when she awoke in the bedchambers.
"And from there? What happened next?" she prods.
"Nothing much. Plum told the mountain fae to go back to the Great Mountain and that she'd contact King Dirk when we are ready to discuss the repercussions of his people's attack. The festival grounds were damaged from the fight but it didn't stop the Lammas party from restarting and we all returned home," Bog answers. "Oh, and your father said that he's going to come here to check on you after the Lammas party is finished."
"So there's no other explanation other than the fact that an irresponsible king didn't care about his own subjects until Plum threatened him with a broken geas? That's annoying," Marianne grumbles.
"Don't be too annoyed, my queen, we need to start the Lughnasa festival," he chuckles.
Marianne accepts the offered kiss and hums in delight as her husband hugs her to him. They both chuckle as Puck chitters his complaint at being squashed between them, though he refuses to move, even when Goodfellow falls to the ground.
"How did Goodfellow survive the castle's destruction?" Marianne questions as Bog bends to retrieve the fallen toy. "I could have sworn it was left on our bed this morning."
"It was left on our bed," Bog confirms, handing the goblin doll to the grateful Puck. "Puck was heartbroken when he realized that Goodfellow wouldn't have been able to survive but Thang is dutiful and loyal, to the point of doing something extremely foolhardy. Something like running to the royal bedchambers to rescue his prince's beloved toy and barely being able to make it to the winter burrow's castle entrance before the castle started to collapse."
"He did what! Is Thang okay?" she asks worriedly.
"Stuff may have bruised him a little with her tight hugs but Thang is fine," he reassures, nodding towards the pair near the bonfire. "They tried suggesting about reporting for their duties in the morning because of the circumstances but I told them that they are to have the next few days off and that was that."
"Definitely. They and the other new mates deserve their time together and this mess isn't interrupting that," Marianne comments before sighing. "Speaking of which, what are we going to do about there being another clan of imps? I mean, the responsible thing to do is to have Puck live with his own kind..."
Puck screeches at the words and crawls up to rub his face against his mother's neck, not bothering to stop the tears falling from his eyes. He didn't want to leave! They couldn't abandon him!
"I said it was the responsible thing, I didn't say that I wanted to," Marianne murmurs, hugging the little imp tighter. "We're so different, though. Don't you think it would be better for you to be around those that are more like you and could give you the care that you really need?"
Puck shakes his head repeatedly, wrapping his tail tightly around both hands against his back and turning pleading eyes to his father. They protected him and cared for him before they even really knew him. And after all the trouble he caused, too! It doesn't matter to him if they're different. That's what he likes!
"If you're sure...," Bog starts, getting a trill and a fierce nod. "In that case, we should talk to Hermia and see if an adult imp will be willing to come here to tutor us on everything a young imp needs."
"Hermia is still here?" Marianne asks.
Puck gives a whimpering sigh as his father nods, letting his ears droop as he holds the back of one hand against his forehead and holding Goodfellow close to his heart with the other. He had hoped that they would have left while he was taking a nap. Such a tragic death his expectations died.
"Aren't you being a little dramatic?" Marianne giggles, adjusting her hold again to keep from dropping her suddenly boneless son. "What's the matter with Hermia?"
"I think it's more of Hermia's seven-winters-old daughter, Lysandra, that Puck has a problem with," Bog laughs. "When Cu-Sith confronted the group heading to the palace, Puck escaped your father's hold and growled at it, then attacked Hermia when she tried to 'rescue' him."
"Were you trying to protect everyone? My brave little prince!" Marianne coos, trying not to giggle as Puck assumes a regal posture befitting a proud royal.
"Lysandra was so impressed by Puck's bravery that she came out of hiding to hug and kiss him, declaring that he is going to be her mate when they grow up," Bog continues, smirking as Puck returns to his dramatic posture with a distressed howl.