The Dresden Files is copyright Jim Butcher. This story by MerlinTirianius is licensed under the Creative Commons as derivative, noncommercial fiction. Publication date 7-26-2022.

I appreciate Mr. Butcher's generosity in allowing me, and many others, to play in his sandbox.

Obligations

"The stars will fall from the sky before Mab keeps not her word."

My Knight...vexes me.

"I understand that you have obligated yourself to your family and friends," I repeated. "It is unfortunate that such circumstance has arisen that I also require your aid."

It was the height of Summer, two days before the Summer Solstice, and the Winter Lady had just been invited to attend one of the Summer Court's events surrounding the festival. I was discussing this fact, and its inherent obligations, with the Winter Knight in the quarters he shared with the Winter Lady.

"You have seen the Outer Gates," I reminded him. "You know that place where Summer and Winter are united in preserving this reality. And you know that preserving this union is paramount to our success there. The Winter Lady has been granted an invitation her predecessor never earned, and she requires an escort of like standing to demonstrate that we recognize this gesture."

"I understand, my Queen," Dresden said. "But I Promised." His voice had the low note, the one that had once earned him the respect that...was due a mortal who kept his word.

Of course.

I paused.

"What if I were to fulfill your obligations while you attended the gala with the Winter Lady?"

Dresden blinked. Rarely had I seen him surprised.

"That seems like something you would ask of my godmother," he replied.

"Yes," I said. Patience. "She fulfills my obligations at the Outer Gates until such time as I may return."

My Knight's puzzled look remained unchanged.

"You…. you would act on my behalf? To keep my promises?"

I closed my eyes, to summon more patience, of which I admittedly never had abundance, and of which my Knight habitually exhausts by...existing.

"I would see that my Court honors its commitments," I said, slowly, in forlorn hope of being understood, "and acts in its best interests."

He nodded, slowly. "And to see this done," he said, "the Winter Lady requires an escort."

"Yes."

"What of Santa Claus?"

"His status is such that he can no sooner attend than I."

"Could someone who is not bound to Winter escort the Winter Lady?"

"I suppose so," I said, as frost edged the windows, "if Winter wishes to offer Summer insult sufficient to melt the polar ice caps."

"Not even Thomas?"

Especially not Thomas. There are plans for him. I held my Knight's gaze as frost completely shrouded the windows.

"Perhaps Butters – "

I – Mab! - do not shudder. But if I shuddered, it would be the result of ideas such as this. Dresden's eyes revealed that he already understood his error.

I whispered, "The newest Knight of the Cross. At one of the largest bacchanalias of Midsummer."

Dresden nodded. "Perhaps not." He cast his eyes back and forth, searching for the epiphany that so often came to him alone. Not even the Watchman had an explanation for Dresden's creativity. Unfortunately, this Gordian knot would not be undone without my intervention.

"My commitments today are several," he said. "I promised to take Maggie to a barbeque. The Carpenters invited us. There's a park near their church. I told them I would help. You'll need to pick Maggie up from their house. Wish I could see that….and it's Tuesday, so after sundown, there's pizza. And after that, Maggie needs her bedtime story."

Barbeque. Pizza delivery. Bedtime stories.

"And Nick Christian called. He said he had some work, and he needed my help. I thought I'd do that this afternoon."

Nick Christian was one of my Knight's earliest partners. He was what mortals called a private investigator. I could fulfill this obligation.

"And someone will have to go to Murphy's house and feed Mister."

We studied each other.

"He was my cat. Now he lives with Murphy. Well, when he's not living here. Oh, and there's Mouse."

Dresden's Foo Dog lifted his head and peered in my direction.

"You'll have to take care of Mouse. He gets a walk at lunch time and then with Maggie before the bedtime story. The rest of the time, I…. guess he will keep you company."

My Knight was warming to this idea too easily. But time was fleeting, and I could not close this window with Summer – offered at the height of their power, no less – without his presence.

"It shall be as you have said," I responded. "Thrice I say and done."

A word is spoken.

A promise is made.

Obligations are noted.

Dresden departed, and I was alone with the…Mouse. The Foo dog rolled over.

"This is the time of day that my belly is scratched," he said.

I stared at the creature.

"Not all his obligations are on your list," he said, his tail wagging hard enough to shake his entire body. "Some of them come with just being him for the day."

The beast was not necessarily right… or wrong. To the Fae, obligation, promise, and duty are the same as faith, hope, and love.

Belly scratches were given, and the creature splashed bluish drool on the carpet before rising, shaking off a cloud of fur, and promenading to the door.

"Don't mind the leash," he said. "I won't let you out of my sight."

My Knight had set a proper guard over me. Such paranoia is becoming of the Winter Knight.

The creature stopped halfway out the door.

"But you will need the Pooper Scooper," he said, bounding to the nearest spot of grass.

"Nick Christian."

"Mr. Christian- "

"Nick is fine. Who is this?"

I paused. "Harry Dresden bade me speak with you and offer what services I may to aid you in your work. He further asks me to tell you that any obligation you incur will be credited to him."

Silence.

"Great. Uh, so I got hired by a woman who swears her ex-husband has kidnapped their child and is keeping the kid locked in the basement apartment of this place on the south side. I thought she was crazy, I still think she's crazy, but she paid up front and in cash without arguing over my fee." Slurping sounds came over the device. "Thing is, I've been watching the building, and he's coming and going at odd hours, and I cased the joint doing some electrical surveys, and he definitely came and went from the basement three times a day with carry-out."

More slurping. Maddening.

"I want to bust in there and see if it's her kid. There's a warrant for the guy, so if I can pick him up I will, but really, this one's about the kid. I can pay what Harry usually charges, and his usual cut of anything over."

Reasonable. Obligation and recompense.

"I understand, Mr. Christian. Where should we meet?"

"Cross street of 4th and Burris. There's a bagel shop on that corner. I'll be wearing a brown hat and coat, sitting in a window booth. One hour."

Summer in Chicago is not conducive to Winter fashion.

I watched a blonde woman in a light summer suit passing in comfortable shoes, heels in one hand, and something called Frappuccino in the other hand, with those curious white sticks in her ears.

Hideous. But invisible. Every other woman on the sidewalk was in similar attire.

It was the work of a thought to match their garb as my driver stopped at the corner. Mouse nimbly hopped from the interior to the sidewalk, looked each way (why was the creature paying such close attention?), and shuffled his feet. "All clear."

The brown hat was visible through the window. Mouse took up a spot near the door. "Humans have a thing about dogs around food. I'll wait here."

I looked at the booth. Faux leather. Hideous. But duty. I looked at the aging detective. Time had been kinder to the man than many his age. His suit was well worn, but clean and neat. My Knight's companion had learned self-respect, and at no small cost. He stood as I approached, taking my measure without being cowed.

Foolish. Predictable.

"Dresden said you would be with the dog."

I waited.

He lowered his voice. "The building is one block south, across the street. I want to see if the kid is down there and get out before anyone has a chance to call the police."

I inclined my head.

"We should be about it, then," he said, buttoning his coat and dropping some bills on the table.

Mouse bumped Christian's hand, and having had his ears scratched, fell in beside us, watching the street and the birds and taking in nearly as much as I saw. A short walk brought us to the brown building, with large panes across the front and a side entrance that appeared to go below ground.

I summoned power and examined the building.

"There is a basement," I noted, "with a security door on the west side. Behind that door are four children, each sitting on a bed."

Nick was astounded. "How did you – I mean, not even Dresden – how can you see that?"

I ignored such a question. Mortals.

Mouse studied the building. "You going to do this fast, or slow?"

"Fast."

Harry Dresden would have summoned fire and wind and created a natural disaster. I decided that fulfilling his duties would not require resorting to his methods. The door gave easily to a sharp tug, and Mouse followed me down the stairs, Nick Christian in his wake.

Dresden prefers shock and awe, making up for deficiencies in his power or knowledge by clearly communicating his interests. It is a Reason that I chose him for my work.

But I am the Queen of Air and Darkness, so I summoned darkness, leaving a shimmer for Nick Christian to follow me into the basement. Four steps brought us to the door. A simple hasp and what the mortals call a padlock. I have no idea why they even bother. It is Iron, and it is poison for us to touch. Which is why I invented gloves, these made from Dragonhide. I have not worn them since…. since I was the Winter Lady.

A few moments later, we were all safely away.

"Thank you again," Nick Christian said, as he and the children clambered onto the sidewalk at his office. One of the children had belonged to his client, and the others belonged to families in Ohio and Indiana. This would interest my Knight.

I nodded.

"Please tell Harry I will put the check in the mail."

I raised an eyebrow.

"Or I'll drop it off on Friday."

I nodded again.

The children ruffled Mouse's fur, and another belly rub was negotiated, and we departed.

An obligation fulfilled.

"You enjoyed that," the Dog said.

I looked at the beast, who was scratching himself in what appeared a perpetual state.

"You have been Mab for so long, you have forgotten that you once acted without regard to the cosmic balance. Once, you saw something you wanted, and you acted to get it, whether it was a book or grapes or flowers or wine, and with no regard to the consequences. You should give me water soon."

This seemed within Dresden's responsibility. The beast sniffed at the refrigerator. Opening the door, I discovered that my aides keep something called Dasani with the Dom Perignon and Perrier.

Does every creature make such sounds when drinking?

Sated, the beast reclined, his tail thumping the floor.

"You sent Faerie guards to watch your back," he continued. "I smelled them when we crossed the street. But this was a mortal affair. I bet you knew that the man, whoever he was, wasn't inside before you went in the building. Again, a mortal problem. You cannot interfere in mortal problems such as this without consequences. But because you are acting on My Friend's behalf, you rescued them all without tilting your scales."

He rolled over and lifted his gaze to mine. "And you liked it." He promptly began wriggling on his back.

My Knight would probably give him a treat for saying such a thing.

Another obligation fulfilled.

"You have to feed the cat on your own," Mouse said, sitting upright.

I studied the beast. "You weigh two hundred forty-eight pounds, four ounces. You offered the Leanansidhe battle if she would not restore your Friend and his cohort to human form, and with every intention of winning. Yet feeding a mortal cat gives you pause."

Pause. Paws. I nearly shuddered. My Knight would approve. This vexes me.

The beast was unmoved. "It is a mortal thing between dogs and cats," he informed me. "I will see you to the threshold. But no further."

I glanced at the home with mortal eyes. It was an unassuming bungalow. To a creature of Faerie, it was a fortress. If the Carpenter home was a castle, this was an underground redoubt. Crossing either threshold without invitation…I could not fathom such an action. My mantle prevents such a consideration.

Fortunately, I had a key.

How does one…. feed a mortal cat?

"You are the Queen of Air and Darkness," Mouse said as we ascended the porch, as alert as I could imagine him to be. "You watched humankind invent the printing press, cross the oceans, learn to fly, split the atom, and even create French fries. You probably even had something to do with pasteurization. But you do not know how to feed a mortal cat."

It is not required of me, beast. I am Mab. I am tasked to preserve this reality. Feeding human pets is something that has never been linked with destroying creatures who would invade this realm. Whenever my Malk requires food, he would never think to ask me for it. He hunts it and consumes its power for his own.

"Yeah, but today you're pretty much Harry Dresden, friend of Murphy, caretaker of Mouse and Mister," Mouse replied. He was enjoying this even more than my Knight. How could a dog inherit insolence? "You are going to need to use your thumbs."

I considered this. "Perhaps I should request a Boon."

"You could try," Mouse agreed. "But you're also Mab, and you're terrifying to pretty much ALL of creation. Getting someone to help you on their own might take a while."

I coughed. "What exactly is involved in feeding a mortal cat?"

Mouse sat on his haunches and considered my question. "The cans are probably in one of the cupboards. You'll have to open them, dump the food into a bowl, and put the bowl back where you found it. Maybe fill the water dish, too."

How hard can this be? I know of can openers. I have seen them in magazines.

"Remember, our Queen," Mouse said, as I opened the door. "You are entering a realm where your title and power and mantle matter much less than you might expect. Your Melk is a powerful beast, but he is beholden to you. House cats are the kings of their realm."

The door opened easily enough. I felt the threshold as I crossed and noted that had I not been given a key and an invitation (frankly, a direction and compulsion) to enter, that I would find myself quite weakened from the strength of the generations who had turned this building into a Home. The small foyer was comfortably equipped, and in good order.

Two eyes gazed at me through the darkness.

I gazed back.

There is a mortal saying: when one looks into the abyss, one must realize that the abyss also looks into thee.

I sensed that fearlessness in this creature.

"I am here on behalf – "

I KNOW WHY YOU ARE HERE

I blinked. And waited.

I SENSE MY HUMAN UPON THEE

I lifted my chin. "Mortal cat, you speak of my Knight, and he is most assuredly – "

ONE OF MY HUMANS. HE WAS FOOD-BRINGER FOR A TIME. HE PRESERVED MY MORTAL FORM. NOW I RULE OVER A NEW REALM.

I extended my gaze through the lenses that allow me to view mortal and immortal, the same lenses that would, on occasion, allow me to uncover the Enemy of our reality.

This creature believed, with each fiber of his being, that he was the King of this Home. He had neither fear nor affection nor regard for me other than what I might do for him. His fearlessness matched the spirt of my Knight.

I am the author of nightmares, and tonight I owed the King of this realm an obligation.

I discovered the cat food in a small cupboard near its dish. These are pull-tops. I have seen them in advertisements.

MAKE HASTE

These mortal creatures practice insolence as the Holy practice faith.

I placed the food on the floor. The water dish was still full.

DEPART

I closed the door and locked it.

Another obligation fulfilled.

(Unnerving? Hardly. But…unusual.)

"You'll have to pick up Maggie next," Mouse chortled.

How does a Dog…chortle?

The Carpenter home was well known to me. The Winter Lady's family was under more protection than they understood. The Watchers were ever-present. When there were no threats, they watched the Sidhe, who watched for mortal threats, and were also ever-present, and who watched the Watchers as their power allowed.

Now, they were all watching me.

"Let me out of the car first," Mouse suggested. "That should prevent any misunderstandings."

I stared at the animal.

"You should've seen the place when the shadow-bearer was here," Mouse said.

But I did see it, beast. I saw the hinges of time swinging in concert as the Watchman's work came to fruition, and I witnessed the coronation of the Almighty's newest weapon. The work of the Unnamable Name, who delights in the foolishness of his creation, of building a Kingdom from fractured, discarded rejects so that none in the cosmic sphere dare doubt His strength.

"Quite a scene," I said.

"I nearly got it," Mouse rumbled. Blue sparks shone in his eyes.

My Knight would be…. encouraging.

"Another day." I pronounced the words carefully.

The creature looked at me and lifted one ear, then slowly extended one paw.

We shook on it.

A bargain struck.

Mouse jumped through the door as soon as it opened, leaping over the white picket fence with a bound. He slid to a halt on the walkway and barked three times.

The Host knew him perfectly. In their light, he was almost translucent. Spirit poured…from the creature, as Winter pours through me and my Court.

The Captain of this Host stood at the gate. I met her gaze and nodded. She returned the nod, a little more deeply. To mortal eyes, she would have been indistinguishable in every way from the Captain in the Avengers movie.

We do have entertainment at Arctis Tor.

The little girl ran outside, throwing both arms around the Dog's neck, tumbling over him before pulling herself upright. He escorted her to the gate, flanked by two of the Host.

"You aren't my Daddy," she said. "But Mouse is with you, and Daddy said that if a lady who dressed like Molly came to the house to pick me up, and Mouse was with you, then it was okay."

She opened the gate and presented herself with perfect politeness. She wore a Captain Marvel T-shirt (of course) and jeans with the elegance of royalty.

"My name is Maggie," she said, offering her hand.

I took her hand. "I am…"

I had not considered that a child would need a Name for me.

"Aunt Mab," she pronounced.

The Captain chuckled. Even for Mab, it is no small thing to hear the laughter of the Host.

"Her father's daughter," the Captain said.

I raised an eyebrow.

She nodded. "Dresden gave the Watchman a new Name." A ripple of unfettered JOY emitted from the Host. "It is fitting that his daughter gives you a similar Gift on your introduction."

I considered this for a moment. "An expression of Power."

She smiled. "And Respect. Perhaps also an expression of Love."

The child kicked off her sandals, buried her feet in the Dog's fur, and dug through her backpack for a book.

"Do you like to read?" she asked.

Conversation.

A father's obligation.

"Yes."

"What is your favorite book?"

Obligation. "I have enjoyed many stories in my years."

"I like stories about dogs," she offered. "Mouse is my Dog, and he is a Good Boy."

The creature's tail thumped, giving off blue sparks.

"Your father's duties prevented him from being here," I explained. "I am here in his place, to fulfill the tasks he had Promised to complete today."

She gave this some thought.

"You should read to me," she said, handing over her book.

The Jungle Book. Kipling's tale, and another which the sorcerer Disney altered for mortal eyes.

"You didn't do the voices right," she said.

"I did them perfectly, child," I responded. "I spent more time with that man than I care to discuss, and I know every voice in his head. My reading was superb."

She laughed, and splashes of blue glowed on the Mouse's fur as she did. "Read it again."

The gathering was well underway when we arrived. Maggie ran ahead of me, Mouse in her wake, throwing her arms around the legs of the Carpenter adults before joining the children in a mortal imitation of the Wild Hunt.

I clothed myself in picnic attire and shielded my appearance with glamour. My duties allowed me the luxury of anonymity. Even the retired Knight passed me within arm's length without recognizing my true form.

"You will need an apron."

I turned to see a silver-haired woman holding a dish filled with brown sauce, dressed in stylish blue coveralls with a yellow shirt and sandals. The effect was startling.

Mother Summer was always startling.

"An apron?" Such human rituals were challenging. These were not problems known in Faerie.

Mother Summer placed her dish next to the grill, then drew a bundle of plaid fabric from the air. It was freshly laundered and dried in a summer wind, and quite warm when unfolded for use.

"This will keep your clothing from being spattered," she explained, as she dabbed the...sauce? across the surface of the meat. "Every fifteen minutes or so, to keep the moisture just so."

She showed me the ritual: potatoes, diced and baked and turned into some sort of salad. Buns toasted barely brown over the fire. Beans, done in the Boston style, with bacon and honey and sprinkled herbs she summoned from her cottage stock. Tea, brewed strong and sweetened with syrup, then served over ice, "with fresh mint and lemon, in the Southern style."

"We miss barbecuing," Mother Summer said. "Such a lovely way to pass an afternoon." She considered the ends of the largest cut of pork, where the meat had burned black. "You remember she likes her meat this way. We will save this for her, along with the bones for her teeth." Her hands pulled the meat apart without the help of a blade. "She was too weak to travel, but she sends her best."

"She has never spoken to me without threatening my existence."

"Oh, yes, of course," Mother Summer demurred. "She must keep her cleaver sharp. Tools are made to shine in use, as your Knight shines with your direction." She smiled. "I always prefer the tall ones. And the scars. So handsome and strong." She gave me a sidelong glance. "You wear the apron well."

I would not realize what she meant until much later.

Pizza is a magic of its own: built on a platter of something resembling bread, doused with emulsified tomatoes, covered with softened dairy byproduct, decorated with what the mortals call "pepperoni," then heated, sliced, and served by barbarians into a pasteboard container. Perfectly inedible. Yet, to the Wyldfaye in sworn service to my Knight, nectar drawn from the heart of Olympus would be a less satisfactory larder.

I watched from the shadows as they fell upon the feast.

Are they drawn to the meal, or are they drawn to my Knight's sentimental affection?

The largest of them, now nearly the size of a human toddler, had once drawn steel on a monster. The island's Keeper showed me the battle, long ago, as we sustained Dresden's shell so his soul could serve the needs of the Watchman. (Another debt repaid.)

"Little one," I murmured, "you take after your commander, who is also fearless in the face of powers far exceeding his own. No wonder he is so fond of you. No wonder your loyalty to him is so fierce."

The feast ended as abruptly as it had begun. The air around them quivered, and a chorus of sighs and belches filled the air.

"For the Za Lord!" their leader cried.

"For the Za Lord!" the company echoed.

With a burst of starlight, the legion dispersed. My Knight's Army had been fed the promised ration.

Another duty fulfilled.

"You should read to me while I fall asleep," Maggie said, brandishing The Jungle Book like a shield.

"There are other stories," I offered. "I could tell you stories of -"

The Foo dog whuffed quietly from her bedside, from a pile of blankets almost as large as the bed of the one he guarded.

"...many things, child. But tonight, we will again read this tale," I concluded, as she tumbled into her bed.

The child fell asleep midway through the third chapter. Her Guardian's tail thumped, and his eyes glowed.

He spoke without speaking. Well done. She only falls asleep when she feels safe.

We watched each other while I considered this.

She knows what you are, and what you have been, and she feels safe with you here.

I am Mab.

But I was once a mother, and I remember.

My Knight and my Lady returned from their work to find me drinking her tea while reading the mortal magazines stacked around her apartment. He went directly to his chambers while she prepared tea for them.

"She's asleep," my Knight said, returning from his room in jeans and a sweatshirt emblazoned with WINTERFELL SKI PATROL across its front.

"She enjoyed the cookout this afternoon," I replied, "and we read The Jungle Book."

He smiled. "She's been waving that around for two weeks. She'll have another one by the next time you see her." He accepted the cup from Molly. "The pizza?"

"Your army is...sated," I offered. "I imagine Summer is quite...full of itself?"

Molly laughed. "We were seated with Fix and the Gruffs. Harry could hardly reach for a glass without Youngest Gruff flinching. Eldest Gruff thought this was most amusing."

"Good thing he's a good sport," Harry added. "He asked me if I had enjoyed any good donuts of late. Timed it right when I'd just taken a bite of pie. They all laughed hard enough to shake the table."

"Sharing laughter is a worthy precursor to sharing battle," I said with a smile. "We will need Summer with us in time to come."

We watched the fire.

"You have an appropriate daughter, my Knight."

"Thank you, my Queen."