Dreaming of Fairies

by Grounders10

When Taylor found a chest of books belonging to her mother in the attic, she never expected how life was going to change. Now four inches tall and trailing glitter wherever she goes, life in Brockton Bay is about to change, quite a bit.

2. Chapter 1

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A Worm Fanfic

Dreaming of Fairies

By: Grounders10

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Chapter One

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The warmth was suffocating. That was the first thing that drifted through her mind as she came awake. Taylor groaned and pushed the blanket off her as she blinked blearily. The world slowly came into focus as she stared at the ceiling. She blinked. That wasn't the ceiling of her bedroom. It sure as hell wasn't the ceiling of the living room either.

Easing herself up she looked around at the unfamiliar room. The last thing she could recall was nodding off against a teacup on the coffee table surrounded by dwarves. This room was, obviously, not the coffee table.

To start with, the bed was actually a bed with a mattress, flower printed sheets that smelled like they had been in storage for way too long without a wash, and a nice pillow. All in her four inches of height. Assuming she was still four inches tall.

Taylor pulled a lock of her hair into sight. It was a dark crimson like it had been the night before. A quick glance and a flex of underused muscles produced a faint buzz from the wings that were definitely there. "Not a dream then," She muttered as she turned her attention back to the room. The floors were old hardwood with small visible gaps between each plank. The walls were painted mint green with pink flowers that seemed just a touch out of focus, as though they weren't meant to be seen from quite this close. Light poured into the room from a window passed the foot of her bed. A writing desk sat beneath the window. Following the line of the wall around the room, the next wall had a large bay window with a cushioned bench and a pair of low bookshelves on either side. Directly across from the first window was a white door followed by a dresser and a wardrobe. The last wall had a vanity and a floor-length mirror beside a closet door.

The bed creaked as she stood up as padded out into the middle of the room. If it wasn't for the fact that she was still clearly a fairy, she would have thought that everything was back to normal. The bed was sized for her. The ceiling was probably about eight to ten feet tall. Everything looked so… so normal.

"Where am I?" She asked the room at large. There was no answer, though the room echoed slightly with her question. Then she caught a bit of movement in the corner of her eye. She spun on the spot and stopped immediately. It was the floor-length mirror. She stared at the strange girl in the mirror and slowly walked up to it for a better look. She was slight in the torso with a roundish, almost child-like face. Crimson red hair hung below her shoulders only a few shades off that of blood.

Taylor leaned in to examine her face in the mirror. She didn't look as childlike as she had first thought, but distance wasn't going to be a friend of hers at all. She tried smiling. It wasn't as wide as before and her lips seemed a bit fuller. Her eyes were just as big, though, with glittering green irises a few shades brighter than they had been before. Overall, the effect was that of a very pretty young woman.

She frowned, this wasn't her face. The hair was nice, not the carrot top look of Emma's, but a much nicer shade of crimson. If it wasn't for the fact that it was replacing the black hair she had inherited from her mother she might have actually liked the look. The rest of the changes were nice as well, but this wasn't her. "Who are you?" She asked, feeling relief as she listened to her voice. It might have been a touch higher pitched, but she couldn't quite be sure. Either way, it sounded close enough given her diminutive size.

The face in the mirror was pretty, but it wasn't her. She closed her eyes and looked away for a moment, taking a deep relaxing breath. With luck, they could fix that… most of it anyway. The hair at least… She liked the new smile.

Another deep breath later she turned back to the mirror to inspect the rest of the changes to her body. She started at the top. She twisted in front of the mirror. The fairy in the mirror, her, was slight up top with thin delicate arms, a nice waist, and a chest that could actually count as female. She crossed her arms beneath it and lifted slightly. "Speaking of improvements to keep," She muttered. After years of imitating a two by four this was a very nice improvement. Sure they had nothing on Emma, but this made it clear she was a girl an not an androgynous stick of wood. Her preening continued for a few moments before her eyes wandered lower and she stared. Then cocked a hip. Then the other side.

"What is with my butt?" She asked, twisting to get a better look. It was difficult, her wings kept twitching to the side and getting into her view, but she managed to get a good idea. "Look at that ass," She said as she stared. She tried to think of a girl at school that looked this bottom heavy. Outside of the few overweight girls, she couldn't come up with one.

"I guess I have the better butt now Emma," She grinned slightly at the silly thought. Here she was turned into a fairy and all she could think about was how jealous Emma would be if she knew. Of course, her former friend would have probably spouted some acidic comment about how she was getting fat. This wasn't fat, this was purely good genes… or magic. Probably magic really. Parahuman bullshit.

Her ass was still amazing.

Taking her thoughts back under control she redirected her attention. Her legs barely warranted a glance before her eyes went to the two most defining new features of her new body. The wings. She turned around and looked over her shoulder at the insect-like protrusions from around her shoulder blades. Their predominant colour was a dark leaf green with panels of translucent ruby red. Silver tracery lined each panel and drew geometric shapes across the rest. They were long enough to reach down to her knees with a general shape reminiscent of a fly's.

She tried to open them and they quivered, buzzing loudly as she tried to get them to open. They twitched and slowly they separated, revealing a second layer of wings beneath the first. The noise they made as the layers parted was wet and the underlayer had a damp shine to it. The first layer of wings stretched outward, twitching with the effort it took, but by the time they were nearly pointing directly to her sides the effort was too much and she stopped trying. They folded back as they relax and she sighed at the feeling of muscles untensing. Despite that, she still wanted to experiment with them.

She lightly pinched the wing. Despite appearances, the material felt strong. It certainly wasn't tearing or even feeling the pressure she was placing on it. She let go at a knock on the door. "Come in," She called, turning back to the door as it swung open.

The Loremaster entered the room. It was strange seeing a dwarf that was taller than a door handle. "Your Grace, it is good to see you up," he bowed.

"Loremaster," she smiled. "Where are we?" Finally, someone to answer her questions.

"It is easier to show you," he gestured to the window by the door. She left the mirror behind and joined him. The window looked out over a deck that ringed whatever building they were in. Beyond the deck was a place Taylor was very familiar with.

"We're in the kitchen?" She asked, spotting the sink in the distance. The faucet loomed like a crag of smooth rock jutting from a mountain in the distance.

"Your dad went looking for better accommodations," Emhyr said, "He found this place in the attic amidst things they had received from your Grandmother and placed it on the kitchen table when he realized it wouldn't fit the coffee table."

Taylor leaned forward to look down at the tabletop. There was a camp forming in front of the dollhouse, it had to be a dollhouse, made from sheets of cloth, toothpicks, and tongue depressors. A large and low bowl in the near distance seemed to be set up for bathing. "Huh," she murmured before frowning. There were a lot more than twenty dwarves just going by the tents. "Why are there so many?" She asked.

"We let more out after you fell asleep. Your father agreed with us," he said, "We simply did not have enough manpower for the tasks at hand."

"Those being?" She asked. If she was going to be their Queen then she should probably try and keep up with what they were doing.

"Scouting mostly," he explained, "This house of yours is massive compared to the old homes we are familiar with and without many of our usual forms of transportation available we have to walk the distances instead."

She winced as she considered the sheer size of her family's house now that she was tiny. "That is going to take a while…" she mused.

"Unfortunately," he sighed, "We brought out several more cadres of hunters, a team of twenty builders, and a dozen smiths. We are closing in on a hundred dwarves now."

That was a lot more than the four they had started with, but as she watched the dwarves go about their business she couldn't help but feel that just covering her home was going to take a lot more. Her stomach grumbled, interrupting their conversation. "Um," she blushed.

The Loremaster chuckled. "We have food downstairs in the kitchen. I could have it brought up if you wish?" He offered.

She shook her head. "I'll come down." The air was a bit on the stuffy side anyway. She followed the elderly dwarf out of the room and into the hall. Light filtered in from a large window at the far end and the double glass doors leading out onto the porch to her right. There were two doors leading to rooms on the other side of the hall and a third door down the wall from hers. Stairs lead up and down in the middle of the room. A single dwarf in chain mail was standing guard by the window. He bowed as they went passed.

"Washroom," The Loremaster said pointing to the door on her side of the hall, "Office and another bedroom. The water is not hooked up, and neither is the electricity I'm told."

"Water and electricity?" Taylor repeated as they walked down the steps.

Emhyr shrugged. "I am hardly an expert on such matters, but your father said that this place had the potential to have both. I wasn't aware humans built such extravagances into their toy houses."

"We don't normally," she frowned as they stepped off the stairs into a beautiful entrance hall. Wide doors to either side showed off the sitting room and the dining room/kitchen. A pair of dwarven guards stood to either side of the main entrance. "You said this came from my Grandmother?" She asked.

"Yes. Your father said it was among the things they received from her will," Emhyr said, "Why?"

Taylor chewed a fingernail as she thought. "The same Grandmother who the chest came from?" She prodded.

"I didn't ask, but possibly?" Emhyr said slowly, his own mind evidently running over the same thoughts.

"Hm…" Taylor frowned. She had to wonder what the odds were that there just happened to be a dollhouse of the perfect size for her. One that was capable of, potentially, having running water and electricity? Well, 50s or 60s electricity. This place looked and smelled old like no one had lived in it for years. Was it even safe to plug it in? Or run water through it?

She shook those thoughts off as her stomach grumbled. She could ask her dad later. "Where is the food?" She asked.

"This way, Your Grace," Emhyr directed, leading her into the dining room where a table by the big bay windows was covered with plates of food, most of it pastries. A dwarf in a chef's uniform was cleaning the center table as they walked in. He glanced up, then promptly fell to one knee as she entered, abandoning his washcloth in the process.

Taylor stared for a moment before the reason crept in from the back of her mind. "Right… Queen," she muttered. "Thank you," she said politely, gesturing for the chef to rise. "Who are you?"

The dwarf rose to his feet. "Tomos, Your Grace. Pastry chef," he replied hurriedly.

"Your work I guess?" She asked with a smile, walking over to the table. The plates had been picked over mostly.

"Yes, Your Grace. Uh, if you wish to take a seat somewhere I can bring the food I set aside for you," He suggested, looking rather awkward.

"These look fine to me," She said, taking what appeared to be a sausage roll from one of the plates. "Unless this isn't a sausage roll?" She asked.

"No, it is Your Grace. It's just…" The dwarf looked to be at a complete loss.

"It isn't done, Your Grace," Emhyr explained.

She gave him a flat look, then took a deliberate bite out of the sausage roll. The Loremaster sighed while the pastry chef looked aghast. "It's quite good Tomos," she told him with an annoyed look at the Loremaster.

"Your Grace, such behaviour-" the older dwarf quieted as she held up her hand.

"Is there another Fairy around here?" She asked. He shook his head. "Exactly. Need I remind you, this was without my consent." She pointed at him with a danish that she then took a bite out of. "I 'm n't go'g." She swallowed, "to be tied down by a bunch of stuffy old fogies who have been dead for over a hundred years. Besides, we don't exactly have the luxury of luxury. Now, do we?" She took another bite of the danish.

"No, Your Grace," Emhyr sighed in the tone of someone who did not agree, but who saw no sense of arguing.

"Good," she smirked before turning to the chef again. "Now, I haven't eaten since yesterday, so just bring as much as you can. Is there a place outside I can sit?"

"There is a small table to the right of the door, Your Grace," Tomos said almost woodenly. Whoops, she may have broken something.

"I'll be there," She said, stealing another roll from the table as she headed out of the room. The Loremaster followed her as she left the house and turned right on the porch to find a small two-person table. The seats gave her pause as she noticed their backs before she spotted the gaps between the back and the seat. It took a moment of coordination to get her wings to slide in there, but she managed. She barely even felt anything as she leaned back in the chair.

She turned to look out over the tabletop at the encampment. She could see Hywel and Cadog in the camp, both working with groups to get things dealt with. Of Carwyn, she saw nothing, but it was likely he was either somewhere in the house or in one of the three larger tents.

"So," she began as Emhyr came up to her, "how did that chef cook the pastries?"

"With heat, I imagine, Your Grace," The old dwarf said. She shot him a look at the dry tone of voice he used.

"You know what I mean," she huffed.

"The books have materials in them as well as Dwarves," he replied, "While the Fairy Dust you created yesterday has lost its magic by now, it was active long enough for us to get a few useful items out. Enchanted field kitchens were amongst the items in the back of the book. They just so happen to include ovens."

"Hmm…" That did make sense. This was supposed to be their time capsule into the future to save their race. Only an idiot would send them off without tools. While she waited for, and then ate, breakfast she quietly pondered what else would be in the books. Dwarves, undoubtedly, but there had been mention of Brownies? And with the equipment, what else was waiting to be drawn out?

"Where's my dad?" She asked as she finished breakfast.

"Out of the house. He said something about legal advice and that he would be picking up materials on his way back," The Loremaster told her.

She nodded. "So, what is the plan for today?" She asked.

"That depends on what you wish to pursue, Your Grace," he replied.

Taylor picked a few crumbs off the plate. "I have no idea where to start," she admitted.

Emhyr took the chair across from her. It groaned slightly under his weight. "I have a few plans, some of which I imagine you would rather not deal with. Etiquette training for one," he said.

"No thank you," she replied.

He nodded. "Then perhaps some exercises for your wings would be a good place to start. Followed by some introductory magic lessons."

Taylor considered. "That… I would like to learn to fly," she admitted.

"Then we shall start on the exercises. Inside, or out?" He asked.

"We can try inside. I'd like to see the rest of the house," she decided. It would be something to talk to her dad about when he got home… "Emhyr," she began.

"Yes, Your Grace?" He asked.

"How did you talk to my dad without shouting?" She asked, mystified.

"Ah, that. Magic, of course. Not all too complicated, even we dwarves can manage it. In fact, nearly any Fae you can think of can manage that trick if they want," he said.

"Can you teach me?" She asked. It would be nice to talk normally to her dad.

"Once you have the magical basics down, yes," he agreed.

"Then let's get started on the exercises. The sooner we're done, the sooner you can start teaching me," she said, standing up. He chuckled, provoking a small blush of embarrassment.

"Let us do this inside, as you asked. I believe the living room will have plenty of space," he mused as he led the way back inside. Taylor eagerly followed, bouncing slightly as she kept pace.

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It was dark when her dad arrived home. He came in the front door carrying a large cardboard box full of groceries. Subsequent trips out to the truck brought more food, nearly all canned, a dozen two by fours, and ten sheets of plywood. A final trip saw a box full of string, twine, and five different kinds of tape join the pile.

"What is all this for?" Taylor asked from the balcony outside her room, still shouting to be heard. While she had managed to tap into what Emhyr referred to as 'mana' all she had managed was a puff of glitter that they were still trying to get out of the seat cushions in the living room. Describing it was difficult, mana being different from her other senses. It was very much the situation of trying to describe colour to a blind man.

Her dad noticed her gesturing and pulled a seat up by the table. "Sorry, I didn't quite hear you, Taylor. Are you doing alright?" He asked, leaning down to her level.

"I'm fine. What is that all about?" She gestured to the stacks of food and woodworking materials. "And what took you so long?"

He shrugged his jacket off onto the chair. "Well, the food is stuff I'm sure that the dwarves can use. Canned ham, different canned vegetables, a whole bunch of dried stuff. It should be enough to let us let out a few more if we need to," he explained.

"And the wood?" She asked.

"Well… what do you think of the house?" He asked.

"It's…" Taylor considered, "Oddly convenient."

He chuckled weakly. "I know what you mean. A dollhouse perfectly sized for you just happens to be in the attic. I'd be worried if I wasn't so thankful."

That was a sentiment she shared. "Emhyr said something about electricity and running water?" She added.

He nodded. "I was rather surprised to find out that it had an electrical cord. I did a bit of research and it turns out it wasn't unusual for higher-end dollhouses in that era to be designed as 'fully functional' including electricity and water. I wouldn't trust it myself, but maybe we can get someone to look at it?"

Taylor snorted. "So you got me a fixer-upper then?" She snarked, getting a chuckle from her dad. They stood there for a moment, just looking at each other. As it was starting to get awkward Taylor looked back at the house. "How would we pay for that? And who… who could we trust? The dwarves haven't a clue about electricity."

"That was what took the most time today, actually," her dad reached around and fished one of those chemistry vials out of his coat. He held it up to her. It was several inches longer than she was tall and filled with gold dust and flakes larger than her hands. "I made an appointment for tomorrow to find out if we can sell this."

"Gold dust? Where did you get so much?" Taylor leaned over the railing to get a closer look.

"From you."

She looked up. "What?"

He wiggled the vial. "Whenever you do that golden light thing you leave a bunch of this behind. This entire vial came from dusting off the kitchen table after last night."

"I thought it faded?" Taylor's forehead scrunched as she tried to remember what it was Hywel had said exactly.

"Most of it does. The rest becomes pure gold," her dad said with a chuckle, "I took this vial to see how real the gold was. The guy I know said it was gold. He wasn't quite sure how pure, but I think we both know that it is probably fairly pure. That puts this half-ounce of gold dust at around… what was it… one thousand and four hundred dollars of gold."

"Jesus Christ," Taylor said, staring at the vial.

"I filled another two vials from the kitchen table and I haven't even touched the mess in the living room yet," her dad sighed. "That is going to be a pain, but at a guess, I think we've got at least a few pounds of gold dust covering the recliner. It's probably going to take a vacuum cleaner to get it out of the carpet and then there are a few more ounces from the coffee table." Taylor's knees wobbled and she stumbled back to sit on the bench behind her.

"I-" She shook her head. She tried to do the math and boggled a bit at the number that came up. "That's at least thirty-five thousand dollars a pound," she breathed, her voice failing to carry to her dad.

"Assuming at least three pounds, at a minimum, we're looking at over a hundred thousand dollars worth of gold. If we're allowed to sell it," her dad said with a tired expression.

Taylor stared blankly at the vial of gold. It hadn't sunk in earlier, but now that the numbers were laid out before her it was starting to seem so silly. Her powers created gold as a side effect. Hell, the puff of Fairy Dust in the dollhouse's living room earlier had been caused by an ill-timed sneeze. "I sneeze gold," She muttered, giggling. Her voice spiked with a hysterical tone. She sneezed gold.

All of their money problems were solved. All of them. Possibly forever. If they were allowed to sell it at least. But if it was just gold, then why wouldn't they be?

The porch creaked as Hywel stepped out onto the wooden walkway. "Your Grace?" His voice was questioning as she tried to stop giggling.

"Just talking about money," her dad said.

"Ah." The finely dressed Dwarf's eyes came to rest on the vial of gold. "Fairy Dust. Are you planning on selling it?" He asked.

"Once I know how to, yes," Danny replied. He weighed the vial in his hand before slipping it back into his coat pocket. "I'll admit normally I would be a bit wary about exploiting the side effects of my daughter's powers for money, but I'm afraid that with your presence our expenses are about to spike. Excessively so."

Hywel winced. "Yes, well that wasn't the original plan," he said, launching into an explanation. "You see, the plan calls for the establishment of a proper court with the ability to be entirely independent of the original infrastructure. The Seventh Colonial is intended to be able to kickstart all areas of agriculture and industry that we normally rely on. From mining, to construction, to enchanting, to farming for both food and enchanting materials. In fact, I am positive that one of the books is dedicated exclusively to farming and most likely includes a stock of the beasts we normally raise."

"You have livestock?" Her dad asked as Taylor finally managed to stifle her manic giggling enough to listen, even if she was still shaking occasionally with repressed giggles.

"Oh yes. Many of the legendary beasts from folklore are hardly as large as humanity likes to make them, Unicorns for example," Hywel said.

"Unicorns?" Taylor perked up, "What about unicorns? Do we have unicorns?"

Hywel blinked as she popped up from her giggle induced slump. "Yes, Your Grace. Well, probably, Your Grace. We haven't had a chance to check all of the books and there aren't any in the seventh," He babbled.

"I hope there are," Taylor crossed her arms and leaned back. She was liking this more and more. Sure, she was four inches tall, but there seemed to be a lot of perks to the whole Fairy Queen thing.

"I have to wonder what you use Unicorns for?" Her dad asked.

"Mostly the same as you would a horse," Hywel replied, "They were popular among Fairies as recreational mounts. Dwarves like myself tend to use stockier breeds as draft animals, and Elves have bred some rather aggressive varieties for use in their ground-bound shock cavalry. Most other Fae tend to treat them as pets if they care for them at all."

"No use for magic?" Taylor asked.

"Several. Few good, however," he sighed. "Magically they are a very pure species. To my knowledge, any good spells that involve a Unicorn require them to be alive. Anything using the parts or body of a dead unicorn… Best not to think about it." Taylor winced at the thought of someone who could kill a unicorn for use in magic.

An awkward silence fell on the conversation before her dad sighed and stood. "I'm going to make myself dinner, then we can talk about where you want to set up the dollhouse, for now, that isn't on the kitchen table. Also, Hywel."

"Yes?"

Danny gestured to the stack of wood. "I have the wood you asked for," he said.

"I noticed. Thank you Lord Hebert," Hywel replied with a bow. "On the matter of a place to stay, perhaps the corner with the bookshelves in your living room? Move them out of the way and set up one of those folding tables you mentioned? My craftsmen can take the work from there since you have supplied the materials."

"I'll take a look after dinner. Taylor, do you want anything?" Her dad asked.

She shook her head. "I just ate," She shouted. Her dad nodded and turned to the kitchen fridge.

"Your father is a good man," Hywel observed as he joined her in watching the human set to work on his dinner. "He shows great concern for you."

Taylor looked away, hiding the grimace she couldn't help but wear. Her dad was handling this quite well. He was acting a bit more like how he had before her Mum had died. She hoped that this meant he'd snapped out of the place he'd been ever since. "Yeah. He's doing really well," she said, standing up again. "I'm tired, sore, and I'm pretty sure I've got glitter in my hair again. Did you set up that magic bath that you mentioned earlier?"

The Dwarves had pulled out additional equipment from the book with the Fairy Dust she had produced during practice time. Included had been an enchanted portable bath which Taylor had promptly claimed since it came out of the How To Be a Queen book.

"We replaced the upstairs bath with it. We've stored the old one in a closet downstairs for now," Hywel said, "I also took the liberty of having the sink replaced with one of those we pulled out of the book. You should have plenty of water to work with for now. I wish we had enough to replace the entire home with them."

"Limited space," Taylor shrugged as she brushed past him.

"An unfortunate truth, Your Grace. The men, however, are quite thankful that what spares you had have been assigned to the bathing facilities for the troops," he commented as he followed her into the second floor of the house.

"They're doing a lot more than I am right now, they need it more," she shrugged. She paused by the railing around the stairwell as a thought occurred to her. "Though… Hywel, do we have soap and shampoo? And, I just realized I don't think I have anything else to wear other than this." She gestured to the top and skirt she had been wearing since the day before.

The Dwarf looked very awkward as he tried to not stare at her. It probably wasn't fair to spring this on him right before she went for a bath. "I- ah, a thought. There may be something placed away into your book. I imagine they would not have wanted to leave their successor naked." He frowned then muttered, "Though depending on who was in charge of that aspect I wouldn't put it past some of them."

Taylor grimaced. "Can you check? I'll wait in my room for now. I think the fairy dust left should still have some charge?"

"For another hour or so at least," he agreed, "I'll see to it." He bowed and she sent him on his way before making her way back to the bedroom she had woken up in that morning. The room was lit by the harsh fluorescent light that filtered through the windows, sending shadows cavorting across the walls. She flopped, uncaring, onto the bed and sighed into her pillow at the feeling of soft warmth.

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Magic was not as arcane as Taylor had first thought. This realization came to her as she stood on the balcony of her dollhouse three days later after it had been relocated to a corner of the living room. A soft golden light trailed behind her fingers as she traced glowing lines of fairy dust in the air.

From a chair nearby Loremaster Emhyr watched with his arms crossed. "Hrm, good. Are you having any issues feeling the mana?" He asked.

"Not anymore," She shook her head as she absently twirled on the spot, sending particulate Fairy Dust everywhere as she drew glowing lines. The skirting of her green dress flared the slight bit it was able to. Mana was the core of magic. It was the natural flow of energies created by the presence of beings capable of thought and imagination. The Fae had a natural ability to draw on the mana in the world and control it. With Faeries, this tended to manifest as Fairy Dust unless the Fairy was skilled enough to redirect the mana from its most natural expression.

Her first few lessons had been spent entirely on feeling out mana and learning to draw on it. At first, it had been virtually impossible to properly comprehend. She simply hadn't been able to feel mana. That had changed around the time she managed to sneeze into existence a cloud of Fairy Dust. With the hurtle of noticing mana out of the way, things had proceeded much smoother since.

She could feel the mana in the air, though air wasn't the right word. It wasn't part of the atmosphere and even if there hadn't been any air there would still be mana. Mana floated in the background, a listless directionless blanket of energy that only shifted when someone dragged their will along it. And dragging her will across it was getting easier with each day so far.

"Good, good," Emhyr smiled, "And your wings? Are they sore?" They had done more exercises to help her adapt to having wings earlier.

Taylor flexed her wings. They spread without conscious thought, the top layer of wings easily extending to the sides while the lower layer spread out by her legs. They buzzed as she beat them fast enough to blur. "They feel good. This is easy," she said.

"Excellent. Then we can move onto more useful things," the Loremaster informed her, standing up from his chair.

"You mean flying?" She asked hopefully. Magic was the key to flight for Fairies, their wings simply couldn't lift them easily otherwise. While a Fairy could, in theory, fly without magic, it was a tiring act that produced vastly inferior speeds. Only magic could allow a Fairy to achieve the flight abilities they were famous for.

"And talking with humans without shouting. I believe you wished to learn that as well," he smiled. His eyes glittered with amusement as she pumped a fist.

"Yes!" She smiled. Flight was one of the things she wanted to learn the most since becoming a Fairy.

"I'll let Hywel know to get the preparations finished then. With your leave, Your Grace?" He bowed. She waved him off.

"Go on," She shooed him. He hurried back inside and she sighed, stepping forward to lean on the railing. The last three days had been a confusing mixture of exciting, frantic, and confusing. It had been productive at least. Using mana was a heady experience, not literally thankfully but the potential powers she had heard of from the Loremaster had made her start giggling maniacally once or twice. Or thrice… She wouldn't admit to more than four times.

Of course, it wasn't just her who was doing well. Her dad had taken out one of their old homemade folding tables and set it up in the corner of the living room where they had used to keep a pair of bookshelves. The shelves had been moved to the upstairs hallway while Taylor's desperately-in-need-of-reno dollhouse became a permanent fixture of the room. With the large space, the dwarves had set about turning the two by fours and plywood sheets into a small village of homes, workshops, and a barracks. An elevator of twine, plywood, and a pair of small pulley wheels, recovered from somewhere in the basement, served as a way down to the carpeted floor where a small fortified outpost had been set up to guard the way up and oversee the 'harvesting' of the materials her dad had brought.

As she watched a group of dwarves were lifting a stack of fresh wooden tiles with a primitive crane they had assembled on the third day. The group of dwarves on the roof of what she was told was going to be a tailor's shop accepted the load from the crane and began unloading it onto the roof. She hoped whoever went into that shop knew what they were doing since she could use a few new outfits that were less… pre-approved.

The dress she was wearing had come from the How to be a Queen book and resized itself to fit the moment she put it on. As had the large wardrobe of clothes they had retrieved over the last few days. The issue was… She spared a glance downward. It said something that the tight-fitting dress that went down to mid-thigh, had a boob window, and long sleeves of sheer silk was considerably more modest than nearly everything else in the wardrobe.

She had shoved most of the outfits into the closet and tried to forget they existed. Those that she was willing to wear were hung in the wardrobe or stuffed into the dresser. Most of them were beautiful tops, skirts, and dresses. As it was she was lacking in a few areas and could use a talented seamstress to fill those areas out. Pants, for example, were absolutely missing. Everything in her wardrobe from her first outfit to the stack of castoffs in her closet had seemingly been designed to show off her long legs. Really, it reminded her of the one time she had mistakenly allowed Emma to buy for her without going along. It had taken six months to properly purge her closet that time without offending her friend and would have taken longer if she hadn't hit a growth spurt three months in.

Though she had to admit, she did look good in the clothes. She just wished for a few pairs of pants to add to it.

She pushed off the railing and headed back inside, nodding to the dwarf on guard by the door on her way to the stairs up. General Carwyn had claimed the third floor as a command center. In practice that meant he got the one bedroom up there and the rest of it was turned into a large war room with an ever more detailed map of her home. Nothing beyond it had been filled in yet, but the General had said they'd get to it once they had managed to clear out the house.

Taylor emerged into the war room to find it quiet for once. The last several days had seen it overrun with messengers and populated by loud arguments between Hunt-Captain Gruff Harvard and the General. It seemed that their preferred methods of operation were quite different. Not surprising, since as she had learned the hunters were normally autonomous of military authority. They operated in cadres that roamed around and between settlements clearing out dangers like rodents, aggressive fae creatures, and human traps. They were meant to be the first ones to encounter enemies marching on the cities and towns of the Court. Guard duty was not normally a part of their methodology.

"Alone today General?" She asked as she walked over to the table on which Carwyn was compiling the many reports into a cohesive map. Other than the four guards in each corner there was no one else in the room.

He looked up and nodded a greeting. "Your Grace, welcome. And uh, yes I am. Finally, with the release of a platoon of actual soldiers from the Seventh I've assigned the Hunt-Captain and the three cadres of hunters to manning the bottom of the elevator and scouting the area. I'm just compiling their reports." He tapped the stack of papers. "I have to say that the availability of paper is making things a lot easier than they used to be."

Taylor glanced over the work he was doing. "This kind of thing seems a bit below a General," she observed. Wasn't this the sort of thing a General had aides for? While you probably shouldn't take war movies as good tactical advice, wasn't managing the maps a thing that you had subordinates do? It left the important planning work for the senior officers where their experience was more valuable.

"Compiling reports into a map and planning out strategies is exactly what a General should be doing," Carwyn said, "How else am I to understand where everything is, what needs doing, and begin to plan how to tackle it?"

Taylor shrugged. "I'm not a soldier, so I have no idea. But, from what I recall these days Generals tend to have helpers. A lot of them," she said as she examined the map.

"Hrm… Well, it's not like we have the dwarves to spare," Carwyn sighed, "We're short-staffed on everything right now. But until we get more housing set up we are limited in how many dwarves I feel comfortable bringing out, and that's not even getting into financial issues that your Father and Hywel keep reminding us. Until that gold gets sold we're limited in what we can bring in."

"If it wasn't for the fact that there are a million people in those books I'd be tempted to just stay put here," Taylor said as she examined the steadily expanding map.

"It is a daunting prospect to be sure," the General sighed, "And your family is of average means?"

"A bit under these days," Taylor replied as she ran a finger over the map, "Have you considered asking dad for a copy of the blueprints to base this off of? Because I think you've got the measurements wrong already. The living room isn't thirty feet wide here." She tapped the map.

Carwyn checked the map and raised an eyebrow. "A family of your means has blueprints of your home?"

"If we don't have a copy the city should. I think anyway," Taylor tapped her lower lip as she thought.

Carwyn leaned over and scrawled a question mark beside the width of the room. He sighed. "Every time I turn around this time throws yet another innovation at me. That… Television last night was a shock. Humans with moving pictures of such vivid quality and audio… I never expect to wake up in an age of wonders."

Taylor blushed. "They aren't that amazing," She mumbled awkwardly. Certainly compared to a tinker ordinary technology was only okay. But, perhaps that was due to the change in perspective that a hundred and fifty years brought.

"I would have to disagree, Your Grace. I have had Hywel, Cadog, and their craftsmen bothering me about the possibilities if we could study modern crafts. I have kept their excitement under control for now, but even I will admit a certain level of curiosity about what could be accomplished by combining Dwarven ingenuity with modern Human innovation," he replied. A finger traced a line on the map and the general glanced down at a report. He muttered something about terrible scouts and set about erasing the numbers by a vague sketch of the location of the sofa.

"Well, you seem rather busy so I think I'm going to head off General. Maybe Hywel has finished his preparations for Emhyr to teach me how to fly," she grinned.

The General raised an eyebrow at her. "Already?"

"Yep."

"Hrm, I had expected at least another week. Congratulations are in order, Your Grace," he said with a nod.

"Thank you."

"Still, if you are going to be flying about this house under your own power soon…" Carwyn tapped his chin with the charcoal stick. "I believe it is time to start training you to defend yourself. Assuming Emhyr has no issues I will be taking charge of your training in the mornings."

"Um…" She swallowed nervously as the old warrior looked her over.

"You have an atypical build for a fairy. A fair bit more mass than most, but we should be able to figure out what you have a talent for and work from there. I will see you tomorrow morning. Good day, Your Grace," He said with a bow before returning to his work as Taylor stared at him for a long moment before mumbling her thanks and quickly leaving the room.

What was she getting into now?

-0-0-0-0-0-

Taylor was relaxing on the first-floor porch with a plate of pastries while watching the dwarves wrestle a large sponge into position beneath the balcony when there was a large bang and the world shook. "TAYLOR!" She blinked at her dad's shout. He sounded frustrated and angry.

A minute later he entered the living room carrying a chair as he carefully navigated the cluttered room. He set it down beside the table and sat down with a grunt. Taylor got up and walked over to the end of the porch closest to her dad. "DAD?" She called questioningly as he rubbed his forehead.

"I'm not angry at you," He clarified immediately, leaning forward to rest his head on his knuckles. "I just spent an hour on the phone with the school."

"What? WHY?" She asked loudly.

"Apparently your locker was vandalized. They discovered it this morning," he scowled. "From the way, their questions about you were going it sounded like they were trying to find a way to blame you for it."

Taylor grimaced. It had to be a prank by Emma and the others. "I would never-"

"I don't believe for a second you did. They were playing vague and loose, but by the sounds of it the school is going to be closed for the next three weeks at a minimum," he said.

She blinked and stared. She mouthed the time to herself. Three weeks? Three!? What the hell had Emma, Madison and Sophia been planning for her? She stumbled over to a nearby chair and sat there nibbling on a pastry.

Meanwhile, her dad retrieved the remote and moved to the sofa to get a better view of the TV as he turned it on. It was nearly noon and the news came on in short order. The news opened with the same annoying jingle it had had for as long as Taylor could remember before going to the studio. A man and a woman were sitting behind the news desk.

"I'm Shawn Garble," began the male News Anchor.

"And I'm Sarah Sandwell," the woman beside him added.

"And this is Brockton Bay Channel Seven News. We jump straight into the thick of it today with the shocking events at a high school early this morning. Winslow High School has been shut down today following what some sources are calling an act of bioterrorism," began Shawn, "While details are scarce, witnesses report hazmat teams belonging to the CDC are on-site and a police cordon is being erected around the school."

"This is hardly the first time that police have been called to what many consider the worst High School in Brockton Bay," Sarah picked up, "Over the last few decades the school has seen a steady rise in gang activities. Whether that is related to today's incident has yet to be answered."

Shawn leaned forward in his seat. "Now we go live to the scene where our reporter Beverly Renee is waiting." The picture on the TV jumped from the studio to a street where a well dressed blonde woman was standing behind a crowd that was gathering near a line of police officers. "Beverly, what can you tell us?"

"Not much, unfortunately," she sighed before gesturing to the crowds behind her, "Behind me is the police cordon at the intersection of fifty-third and Oak Street. This is one of over a dozen checkpoints being set up by the BBPD around the school."

"Just the BBPD?" Shawn asked.

"That's right," Beverly nodded, "There is no sign of the PRT or Protectorate thus far and what information available so far suggests that this is unconnected to any parahuman activity. Witnesses say that while the school is locked down, the BBPD and CDC have been primarily concerned with the east wing of the school."

Taylor blinked. East wing? That was where her locker was. Which meant that whatever had been planned for her return from the break had apparently been interpreted as an attempted terrorist attack? Emma and the others were horrible, but there was a big leap from elbowing her in the hallway and making snide remarks about her mother to… attempted murder? What had they even been planning?

Taylor rubbed the side of her head as she tuned out the news. This was way too strange. Their bullying had been falling off, why would they suddenly jump to this? Or was she jumping to conclusions? They didn't have to be the ones behind it. They were hardly the only people who bullied her. Hell, she had E88 bastards out for her sometimes just because of how her last name sounded. She could see one of them being dumb enough to take it this far.

"Your Grace?" She looked up to see Emhyr standing in front of her.

"Yes, Loremaster?" She asked, concealing a sigh of frustration.

"I overheard the discussion you had with your father," he began.

"I think everyone did," she said dryly, getting a wry chuckle from the old dwarf.

"I'm afraid so," he agreed, "But I take it you believe that this attack on the school was directed at you?" He both looked and sounded concerned.

"... Maybe," she admitted, "I haven't told dad, but… There are a few people at school who don't really like me." She didn't want to talk about Emma. It hurt to think about how cruel her old friend had become.

"I see…" He ran a hand through his beard as he stared at her. She was left with the impression that he probably understood more than she'd meant to say. "And they have been doing things for a prolonged time now?"

"Yes," she whispered.

Emhyr took a seat across from her. "This wouldn't happen to be one of the reasons you have accepted the course of events over the past few days," he gestured to the town that was being assembled, though the workers were currently watching the TV, "despite your misgivings."

"Not going to school is a nice change," she sighed. She used to love school, but High School had been nothing but hell since the moment she set foot in Winslow. "I just… I can't imagine what they did to get it classified as bioterrorism. They don't just toss out that sort of thing lightly."

"Given the situation, I'm afraid there is not much we can do to investigate on your behalf. I'm afraid the distance would be too far," Emhyr sighed.

Taylor waved him off. "I wasn't going to ask you to. I just wish I knew if this was connected to my locker or not…" She shook her head and stood up. "No point in just sitting here wondering. Are the preparations finished?"

Emhyr stood from his chair. "Aye. The landing pad is in place. We can begin flight training whenever you wish, Your Grace," he said.

Taylor nodded. "Let's get to that then," she said, gesturing for the old dwarf to lead the way. As she followed him the news in the background was speculating on the origin of the incident. She forcibly tuned it out again. It would just be a distraction from the important things.

-0-0-0-0-0-

Taylor had barely attempted to direct her magic through her wings when a bunch of loud knocks echoed through the house from the front door. Her dad, grumbling loudly enough to be heard across the room, stood up and muted the TV. "Back in a moment," he sighed as he headed for the door.

Taylor let her wings settle down, the magic bleeding out of them in a mist of Fairy Dust. If someone came inside it was probably best if she tried to avoid being too obvious. In fact, it would probably be better if they had everyone take cover for the moment. "Emhyr," she turned to the old dwarf, "can you get everyone inside?"

"A wise choice, You Grace," he nodded, stepping up to the balcony. "Everyone, abandon what you're doing if you can and get inside with all due haste." He pointed down to the dwarves who had been gawking at the news on TV. "One of you get to the elevator and take news down to the workmen. Hiding places. Now." Like a horde of startled roaches, the dwarves disappeared into the homes and shops in seconds. A trio of dwarves was left running for the elevator.

Taylor nodded her satisfaction as she let Emhyr guide her into the dollhouse. She found a seat on the bench in her room by the window and looked out at the living room. The window made things appear a bit distorted, but it did little to effect sound. The walls of the dollhouse simply weren't thick enough to do much of anything about sound on the scale humans operated on.

She could hear the door open and voices muffled by distance. They dropped off and for a few moments she had to wonder why before her dad's voice shouted loudly for the second time that day, "TAYLOR!" She winced. What now? "POLICE ARE HERE TO TALK TO US."

Oh. Taylor stared blankly out the window. The Police. "Emma, what did you do?" She breathed through a deep sigh. The voices were getting closer now. He probably hadn't found a good reason to turn them away then. Which meant she was going to need to talk to them. "Shit," she muttered. Even when she wasn't at school Emma was ruining things for her. This was not the plan. The plan had called on her to learn to fly and speak loudly before talking to normal-sized people.

She stood up and brushed off skirting. She would have to step out and talk. As she stepped out of her bedroom Emhyr was waiting for her. "Your Grace, do you think it is a good idea to go out there?" He asked.

"Don't really have a choice, do I?" She groaned as she walked over to the porch's double doors.

"We could-"

"Stay inside," she told him. She frowned at him. "Let them just think it's me for now." Hopefully, everyone else had found a hiding spot.

"I will obey, of course, but this is a terrible idea. You don't even know how to fly yet!" Emhyr protested. "There is a reason Fairies prefer to avoid entanglements with humans until they get older."

Taylor shrugged and adjusted her hair, brushing a lock behind one ear. She would be lying if she said she wasn't nervous. At least it was just the police… Oh, who was she trying to kid, the police just made it worse. All it would take was one jumpy officer and she'd stop existing in anything except the metaphorical. Some bullets were bigger than she was.

Through the glass pane of the doors, she could see her dad lead two men in police uniforms into the room. One was older with greying black hair, while the other was young with straw-coloured blonde hair. Danny gestured to the dollhouse and the two police officers shared a look, one of them sighing. Right, time to make an appearance. Taylor took a steadying breath and pushed open the double doors. Holding her head high with false confidence she strode out onto the balcony.

"Christ," one of the officers took a sharp step back.

"Gentlemen, my daughter Taylor," her dad introduced her. Behind her, she could hear Emhyr mutter 'Queen Taylor'. Personally she thought it was smart to leave that little detail out of it. People tended to get jumpy when capes took to claiming royalty about as much as they did when they claimed divinity. She did not need that sort of attention.

She walked up to the railing and waved at the officers. One of them waved back. "Your daughter?" The other asked with a raised eyebrow.

"She was a lot taller before New Years," her dad replied. The officer scowled as he nodded his understanding.

"You realize that because she's a cape that means I'm going to have to pass this onto the PRT, right?" The officer pointed out.

"We were planning on waiting a few more days before approaching them anyway," Danny replied with a sigh.

"So this is very recent then? Last three days at most?" The other officer asked.

"New Year's day, practically at midnight," Her dad sighed.

The younger officer made a note while the older one sighed. "Well, as much as I'd like to ask a few questions now, we can't. The moment we encounter a cape during one of these investigations we have to back off and punt it up to the PRT," he pulled his cap off and scratched at the thinning black hair. "And here I was hoping we could go one high profile investigation without running into a cape for once."

"I'd say sorry, but…" Danny shrugged and made a 'what can you do' gesture.

"Yeah, don't be. We'll be outside waiting. Shouldn't be more than an hour before they send someone over to talk. Thank you for your time Mr. Hebert," the Officer offered a hand and they shook.

"Better luck with the rest of your investigation Officer," Her dad said.

"We'll see. Enjoy the rest of the day. Robby, let's go," the older Officer guided his younger counterpart out of the room. As they went he looked back for that last second before they disappeared around the corner. Her dad went with them. A few moments later she heard the front door open, then close. Her dad was back shortly after and he slowly crossed the room to sit down in the chair by the town.

"So, we've got the PRT in at most an hour. Given how much of a clusterfuck everything out there is right now I wouldn't bet them being more than a half-hour myself," Danny said. He leaned forward until he was nearly touching the dollhouse with his forehead. "Are you ready to talk with them?"

Taylor shook her head. "Not even close. I can't fly. I can't even talk to you normally," she replied loudly.

The porch creaked as Emhyr joined them. "We can fix that, I believe," he said.

"You think so?" Her dad asked. The elderly Dwarf nodded.

"The trick is fairly simple. To be entirely honest it's about as difficult as some of the control exercises I've been having Her Grace perform," the Loremaster said, "We would have to get started immediately though, and I can't guarantee that she'll have a consistent volume."

"Then we get started now," Taylor nodded. She was leaning against the railing, her nails digging into the paint. The PRT was coming. She released a very unsteady breath. This was days ahead of when they wanted to approach that organization.

"Then get to it. I'll try and delay a bit if they show early," he said, sitting up, "And I think it would be best if you didn't try to hide everyone. The BBPD might not notice, but we can't say the same of someone like Armsmaster or Dauntless."

Taylor sighed and nodded. It would be better to be mostly honest with the PRT. "Let's go," she told Emhyr and waved at her dad before leading the way back inside. Behind her, the Loremaster had already launched into the theory behind the technique. She nodded her understanding as she led him down the stairs to the living room. This was going to be the worst cram session of her life.

-0-0-0-0-0-

Tea time. For years Taylor had enjoyed a cup of tea when relaxing. Coffee had never been allowed when her mother was alive, but she was more than happy to share herbal tea with Taylor. While her dad probably wouldn't have said anything if she had started drinking coffee after her mother's death it had never interested her. It helped that tea had certain benefits.

Taylor sipped the tea that her teacher had provided and sighed. It felt good on her sore throat. "Thanks," she coughed.

"Don't speak unless you need to," the Loremaster chided.

"I'm going," she took a sip and cleared her throat, "to need to." He raised an eyebrow and she took another sip rather than respond. The good news was that she had figured out how to talk at a volume a regular human could understand. The issue was… well…

"There is a reason we normally space this practice out over several days. And take more than forty minutes to explain and attempt it," Emhyr sighed as sipped his own cup of tea. She nodded her understanding. Her throat probably wouldn't have been hurt as much if she hadn't messed up so badly on the first ten attempts.

"This is going to suck," she grumbled. She set the teacup down and leaned through the broken window to get a look at the clock hanging in the living room. There was still ten minutes before the hour they had been given was going to expire. Apparently, her dad had been wrong about them only needing half an hour.

She sipped the tea again. That was fine for her. She needed a while to rest her voice. "At least we were planning on replacing the windows anyway," she noted.

"Amongst other things," said a dry voice from the entrance of the living room. She glanced over to see Hywel entering the room. "I've got my people cleaning up the rest of the house. We should have the glass cleaned away in the next half hour."

"Hopefully we won't need to rush training like this again," Emhyr said, "Not that flying can be rushed. Time and experience are the best things for learning to fly." Taylor nodded and sipped her tea quietly. It really was helping with the pain.

"I've moved the flying equipment back to storage for the moment. Keeping things tidy will help make a better impression," Hywel continued, "The builders are continuing their work. Are you sure you want them to keep working through the visit?"

Taylor nodded. "Trying to hide you would be difficult," she paused to take a sip of tea, "and I think trying might make things worse." She didn't need them thinking she was hiding stuff. That would just cause problems in the long term. Even if she was going to be hiding some of it. They all had; her dad, the dwarves, and her; agreed to claim that the dwarves all came from the one book. If the PRT decided to take the book that one was nearly empty, even if it did contain important information they could probably survive its loss. Losing the Seventh Colonial and the rest of the books would be much more of a hindrance.

"I'll see that everything is tidied then," Hywel bowed and she waved him off. He slipped out of the room, leaving the two of them to their tea.

As they waited for the PRT to show itself Taylor let her mind wander. It was strange living with the Dwarves. They were rather helpful, but at the same time, they seemed so… clueless about certain things. Technology was basically a foreign concept to them, at least anything she would consider modern. They certainly seemed to know their way around construction and magic. Not that they used much magic.

Dwarves were, according to Loremaster Emhyr, weak in external magics. Spells and direct manifestations like what she had been practicing were very limited for Dwarves. Even the voice trick was nearing the limit for them. Their talents lay, instead, in physical augmentation and crafting. Augmenting tools, items, and weapons with magic runes carved into them after creation. While they hadn't brought out any enchanters they were only waiting on finishing the current round of housing before bringing them out.

A loud thunk thunk thunk from the front of the house brought Taylor out of her introspection. She set the empty cup of tea down on the table. Her throat was feeling quite a bit better. She glanced out the window. Five minutes after the hour. "They're late," she commented.

"Close enough to the estimate to be fine I would say," Emhyr said.

"Hmm," Taylor shrugged and stood up, adjusting her skirt. Butterflies were swirling in her stomach despite it being far too small now. Not that that had stopped her from eating six trays of pastries at breakfast on the first day. She swallowed and strode out of the kitchen. "Send some snacks up. I'll be sitting at the table on the deck," She ordered as she left. The snacking would hopefully help calm her down.

Or just make her appear more nervous.

She sighed as she stepped out on the deck. "Can't win, can I?" She muttered, taking a seat at the one outdoor table on the second floor. She could hear voices coming closer. The PRT was already in the house. Joy.

As her dad entered the room the man who followed him made Taylor stop and stare. He was clad in a tight-fitting red spandex costume with red body armour over his chest and shoulders. A visor covered his eyes while his sandy blonde hair stuck out messily above everything. He was grinning as he sauntered into the room. Taylor recognized him as Assault, one of the Protectorate heroes.

By his elbow was a girl younger than her in a green dress with a green visor and chest plate. Vista of the Wards. She was probably the most popular of the wards and certainly the longest-serving of the current group.

They both came to a stop on spotting the table full of miniature people. Assault just looked at the table for a long moment. He turned to Danny. "So, that's your daughter?" He asked.

"That's Taylor," her dad confirmed.

Assault turned back to her. "Cute kid. The Officers didn't mention the others though," he observed. Taylor blushed.

"Taylor asked them to hide last time. We didn't see the point of bothering with the Protectorate. We didn't think they could have hidden from Armsmaster," Danny replied as he eased himself into the recliner.

"Yeah, probably not," Assault agreed, "We can ask our questions then?"

"Go ahead. I'm just going to be sitting here." He emphasized the point by up the footrest.

While this was going on Vista had been staring at her with ill-concealed interest. "Hi," Taylor waved as she spoke.

"Huh, quite a set of lungs," Assault said. "Hey, I'm Assault. The kid here is Vista." He gestured to the Ward with one hand.

"Hey!" Taylor winced as space bent unnaturally and Vista stepped across the room to stand by the table, leaning against it to get a closer look.

Taylor leaned back in her chair at the sudden closeness of the Ward. She wasn't the only one either as a Dwarf working on one of the roofs let out a shout of surprise and overbalanced. Vista winced as she spotted the Dwarf bounce off the plywood street.

"Sorry," the Ward apologized, "Is he okay?" Taylor looked over to where the Dwarf was picking himself up off the ground and dusting himself off. A couple of his co-workers still on the roof were making mocking gestures. The dwarf grumbled back up at them and they all laughed.

"He's fine. Dwarves are tough," Taylor said, turning back to Vista with a smile. "Just be careful where you step. We've got a few down there as well." Vista immediately looked down.

"Shit." Taylor blinked at the curse as Vista shuffled back.

"Language," Assault chided with a grin as he took the chair that Danny normally when visiting the table. He glanced down at the floor as Vista blushed and pouted. He adjusted his feet. "These guys can build?"

"They'd be rather terrible Dwarves if they couldn't," Taylor said dryly, attempting to cover the nervousness she was feeling with some humour. The fact he chuckled told her it was probably working.

"Suppose so." His expression lost most of its humour, getting serious. "Anyway, as much as I'd like to just make this a visit we've got a few questions we need to go through first. Your dad says we can ask but are you up for it?" Assault asked.

Taylor nodded. "What did they do this time?" She asked. Her dad frowned and leaned forward in the chair. She was really tempted to ask him to leave. Emma had been like her sister and hearing what she had been doing would probably set off her dad's temper, which really wouldn't do anything good right now.

Not like he'd leave if she asked.

"They?" Vista repeated.

"To clarify," Assault started before she could reply, "We are here about the vandalization of your locker that was discovered earlier today. Now, I assume you've seen the news?"

"We have. Also got a call from the school," her dad interrupted, "They seemed to be trying to blame us for whatever was going on. Didn't get much in the way of specifics though."

"Huh, well don't worry too much about that," Assault said. He frowned and rubbed a hand against his chin. "Just taking a book by its cover you don't seem like the type to go and fill your locker with a garbage bag's worth of decomposing used hygiene products."

"What?" Taylor stared. She couldn't have heard that right. "Used- like tampons?" Behind Assault, her dad looked horrified.

The superhero looked depressed as he sighed. "Yeah, that's exactly what it was. Now, still willing to answer questions?" He asked.

She nodded frantically. This was… this was a hell of a lot worse than she had thought it would be. Was this even Emma's work?

Assault watched her for a moment before nodding. "Right, Vista you alright?" He asked the girl who was looking a bit green, more than normal anyway. It was clear that the exact details hadn't been shared with her before since she was looking a bit queasy.

"Fine," she replied while not looking like it. Honestly, she was looking worse than Taylor felt.

"Mhmm," Assault shook his head but didn't comment. He turned back to Taylor. "So, let's get the obvious out of the way. You said 'They'. Who are they? I take it you suspect someone?"

"I…" Taylor bit her lip nervously. Her wings buzzed with her mood. Assault stared at her, waiting quietly. "Some?" She finally offered, "It's just, this is really not the same thing they've done before…" Though there had been that incident with her mum's flute. That had been absolutely soiled. So maybe not as far off as she would have liked to think.

"Hmm," Assault pondered. "Is there someone at the school who bullies you?" She winced. Her dad looked surprised behind Assault. His expression was slowly shifting to angry, however.

"Several," she admitted. The deck door opened and Tomos the chef stepped out with a tray of pastries.

"Pardon the interruption. Your snack, Lady Hebert. Guests," he bowed to her as he placed the tray on the table.

"Thank you Tomos," she sighed. He smiled and quickly excused himself. She tore a danish in half and started nibbling on it.

"Your own chef? Your powers come with a few cool benefits," Assault chuckled. Meanwhile, Vista leaned forward to get a better look at her plate. She was looking less green.

"A few," Taylor deferred. She was happy that Tomos had remembered to not call her Your Grace.

"So, who are these usual suspects?" Assault asked, getting the conversation back on track.

Taylor delayed by nibbling on the other half of the danish. Eventually, that ran out. All the while the superhero's left eyebrow was slowly going up. She snickered at the ridiculously off-kilter look it left him with. He chuckled and dropped the look.

She sighed with a slight grin that faded quickly. "Well… There's three. They're at the center of a lot of things at school."

"Popular kids?" She nodded. "Yeah, I know the type. What did they normally do?"

"Destroy my homework. Shove me around… Make obnoxious comments until I began to cry…" The danish in her grip crumbled and she let it fall to the platter. She picked up the cloth beside it and wiped her hands off.

"Bit of a jump from that to bioterrorism," Assault mused.

"... I was thinking that too, but…" Taylor dropped the cloth back on the table.

"But?" Her dad asked. He dropped the footrest and sat up in the recliner.

Taylor winced. "About a year ago I took mum's flute to school for a presentation," She said, "They stole it right out of my locker. They must have picked the lock because it was still on the door when I went to get it. I found it a while later in the trash covered in shit." Vista looked disgusted.

"Taylor…" Her dad's anger seemed to vanish beneath a mask of the same sadness he had been fighting for years. He buried his face in his hands. Vista looked at him uncomfortably.

"They stole it again that same day," Taylor continued, "I have no idea where it went after that…" She looked up at the superheroes and paused at what she saw. Assault's face might as well have been chiselled from stone from the way his jaw was clenched.

"I see," he said, "You have names for them?" She nodded.

"And proof from the first half of this school year," she added, "I printed out all the emails and made notes when things happened. It's in my bedroom upstairs. In the closet."

"That would help prove a pattern if it is them. Their names?" Assault asked.

Taylor shot a worried look at her dad. His face was still buried in his hands. This was going to hurt him. She closed her eyes. "Madison Clements, Sophia Hess," she heard a sharp intake of breath from Vista, "and Emma Barnes."

"EMMA!" Taylor flinched at the roar of anger from her dad. She cautiously opened one eye to find both Vista and Assault staring at her father who looked like he wanted to break something, probably Emma, with his hands.

"You, uh, know this Emma?" Assault asked carefully. Her dad's gaze shifted from staring aimlessly at the wall to fixated on Assault, who to Taylor's surprise flinched. She glanced about. The streets of the town were suddenly empty. On one of the rooftops, a warhammer slowly slid off the side to the ground where it landed with a light clatter.

Danny and Assault looked at one another for a long moment before Taylor's dad deflated, his rage giving way as he slumped bonelessly back into the recliner. "Yes. Gods yes." Taylor flinched at the emotion in his voice and tried to snack on a pastry to distract herself. It didn't work.

Assault pulled himself together. "Can I ask how?" He asked.

Her dad was silent for a time, one hand covering his eyes while massaging his forehead. "I've been friends with her father since high school," he finally said. He sounded defeated in a way that she hadn't heard since her mother died.

"Dad…" Taylor tried to say something, but her words died. She sniffed and leaned back in chair, wrapping her arms about herself as the tears started falling. Emma had been like a sister for years, utterly inseparable. They had shared everything.

"When we both had daughters in the same year. It was… We'd have them over for a barbeque, they'd host one the next week. I… I don't understand. How… WHY?" Her dad lifted his hand and looked to Taylor. "You were like sisters."

Taylor nodded, sniffing and wiping the tears that were trying to form. "You remember that summer camp I went to the summer before high school?"

"Vaguely," her dad admitted. He had been a lot worse during that time.

"I called her from the camp and everything seemed fine until something happened on her end and the call dropped. When I came back she wanted nothing to do with me. Sophia was there and Emma slammed the door in my face. I figured she was just having a rough time and…" Taylor trailed off, nibbling her lip. "When school started up she started harassing me with Sophia and whoever was 'in' with them at the time. She used everything I'd shared with her. Everything." Her tears were falling in full force as she sobbed. She really wished she could get a hug from her dad.

"Well shit," Assault groaned. She looked up at him. He was leaning back in the chair staring at the ceiling. He looked down at her with an understanding grimace. "I've had people turn on me before, but never anyone that close… damned mess this is." He heaved a sigh and stood up. In her current state, he seemed to become a wall rising to the ceiling. "Now, you're sure about those three names? Madison Clements, Emma Barnes, and...?"

"Sophia Hess. She was the most physical of the three," Taylor said, sniffling still.

Assault nodded, looking between the two of them. "Beer?" He asked Danny, getting a confused look in return from Taylor's dad.

"What?"

"Where do you keep the beer? You look like you could use one right now," Assault said.

Her dad looked at the superhero for a moment before nodding and gesturing towards the kitchen. "Through the kitchen, there's a door into the garage. We've got an old fridge I keep them in."

"Back in a moment," Assault said with a nod to Vista who was looking uncomfortable. She nodded back to him and as he left stepped up to the table.

"Um… where did you put those notes you made?" She asked, "I should probably go and get them."

"My bedroom closet. The room is at the end on the right," Taylor said, "Look under the stack of old posters." It had been her half-assed attempt to keep them hidden.

Vista nodded. She turned to look at Danny. "Mr. Hebert, can I-"

"Go on," he waved. In a squiggle of distorted space, Vista took one step and was gone. Silence settled over the room. Even the quiet hammering of the Dwarves had stopped. Taylor glanced towards the door into the house and found Emhyr and Carwyn standing there looking worried. She gave them a hesitant smile. Carwyn took a step forward, only to be held up by Emhyr who shook his head.

She left them to the quiet argument that broke out between them and looked back to her dad. "I have to wonder," he croaked, "How much Alan knows."

"I have no idea," Taylor admitted. Her dad snorted.

"Why would you? I have no idea and I've known him for nearly my entire life," his voice cracked. "Gods if he knew. If he let her do this… why would she even… She was a nice girl." Taylor stayed silent as her dad repeated all the questions she had asked herself over the last couple of years. There were no answers. No good ones anyway.

He trailed off as Assault entered the room with a bottle of beer in one hand and a pair of coke cans in the other. "I hope you don't mind, but I grabbed a couple of drinks for Vista and myself," he said with an easy smile, handing the beer to her dad.

Danny took a long pull from the beer bottle, draining nearly a third of it in one go. "That's fine," he said once he set the bottle down. Instead of the chair by the town, Assault took a seat on the couch.

The superhero cracked open one of the cans and took a sip. He sighed. "I should probably ask you a few more questions," he said, "But I get the feeling I've opened enough cans of worms today for you."

"You could say that," Danny sighed and drank more of the beer.

Further comment on the subject was cut off as with another spatial warp Vista reentered the room. A hefty stack of papers and notebooks was in her arms. She looked furious. "I have the notebooks," she said, setting them down on the coffee table.

"Did you look?" Assault asked with a knowing look. The Ward nodded. "I see… Here, sit down." He held out the pop can and gestured to the sofa. Vista sat down with a huff and glared at the wall while drinking her coke loudly. Her anger was slowly fading.

"So, in a blatant change of topic, what're your powers Taylor?" Assault asked.

Taylor blinked and sniffed, wiping away the tears. "Um… I'm four inches tall and have an army of Dwarves?" She offered, earning a snort from Vista a chuckle from Assault.

"So no Fairy Dust? Can't fly with happy thoughts and a bit of magic?" He said jokingly.

"I've got plenty of Fairy Dust," Taylor grumbled. "It's annoying how much I make."

Assault blinked and Vista looked up from her drink. "Seriously? I was joking," he said.

Taylor shrugged and stood up. She walked over to the balcony closest to the chair. As she went she gathered mana. Fairy Dust was created by a Fairy from wasted mana whenever they cast a spell. Minimizing it meant improving your skill. Of course, it was also possible to do the exact opposite.

She threw a punch towards the center of the room and let the mana blast out in that direction in a directionless display of power. A plume of Fairy Dust shot out across the room and through the kitchen door, leaving a shimmering trail that slowly fell to the ground. Her dad sighed.

"Taylor," he complained. She blushed. Right, he'd have to vacuum up everything that was left behind.

"It's pretty," Vista said, watching intently.

"I'm still working on it, but I'll be able to fly soon as well," Taylor added.

"Now that, that's cool," Assault said with a big grin. "No effects on people?" He asked.

"I can use it for a few things, but most of it dissipates in a few minutes. The rest loses its usefulness in a couple of hours," Taylor admitted, "All that's left at that point is gold."

Assault paused with his coke halfway to his mouth. "Gold?" He repeated, "Like actual gold?" Vista just stared at the glittery floor.

Danny put down his nearly empty beer and stood up. "Yeah. Give me a second," he said, taking the chance to head into the kitchen. He came back a minute later with another bottle of beer and the vial of gold from before. "Catch," he tossed the vial to Assault who caught it easily.

The superhero held it up to the light. "Certainly looks like gold, doesn't it," he held it out for Vista to take a look.

"I had it tested. One hundred percent pure gold," Danny said as he sat down. He finished his first beer before popping the top on the second.

"Jesus Christ," Assault muttered.

"We were going to approach the PRT about whether we could sell it in a few days," her dad continued.

"We'd need to run tests to make sure it didn't have any unknown properties gold shouldn't have, but I don't see why not. It'd probably be best to use an intermediary for it though," Assault suggested as he accepted the vial back. He held it up. "You mind if I take this in for you? Save you the trip."

"Go ahead," Danny waved his hand. "We've got a few pounds of it." Assault nearly fumbled the vial.

"Pounds?" He repeated, looking at the vial.

"Turning into a Fairy is apparently quite the spectacle," Taylor deadpanned.

"I can imagine," Assault said, pocketing the vial. He finished his coke and set the can down on the coffee table. "Now, I've got a few things I need to talk to you about before we leave. Technical stuff I'm required to explain to a new parahuman's parents on our first visit. In private if you don't mind," he nodded to the kitchen. "We can leave the two girls here to chat while we talk about the boring technical stuff."

Taylor's dad looked at her and she nodded once. He sighed. "Yeah, sure," he said, picking himself up out of the chair.

Assault scooped up the stack of papers and notebooks. "I'll keep these with me," he said as he led the way to the kitchen.

Vista sipped her coke then hopped off the sofa and walked slowly over to the town. "So, I'm probably supposed to tell you about the Wards program right now," she sighed.

"Probably?" Taylor asked.

The younger girl shrugged and leaned forward. "Between you and me," she whispered, "After what you've gone through it's probably a bad idea as long as Shadow Stalker is on the team."

"They let bullies into the Wards?" Taylor frowned, picking up a pastry and taking a large bite out of it in frustration.

Vista snorted. "No. They forced her in after she got caught pinning criminals to the wall with crossbow bolts," she said with a grumble.

Taylor swallowed and stared. "Gee, sounds like a fun person. She'd probably get along with Sophia really well. Maybe they could go out and skin puppies together or something," she snarked acidicly. Vista winced.

"Yeah, they sound pretty similar," the Ward sighed. "Doubt she'll be around much longer though. It was the Wards or juvie and she had to stay on her best behaviour. I doubt she'll last much longer." The blonde girl shook her head. "Enough about people like them. What's it like, being a Fairy?"

Taylor leaned back at the gleam that seemed to spark in Vista's eyes as she asked that. The girl leaned forward eagerly. "Well, it's a bit weird at first," Taylor admitted, not altogether unhappy about the change in topic. "You get used to everything being the way it is, then all of a sudden you're four inches tall and can't even look over the edge of a teacup let alone lift it."

Their conversation continued for over thirty minutes, focusing mainly on what it was like to be a Fairy with Taylor fielding constant questions from the increasingly eager girl. It was almost a relief when Assault called from the kitchen, "Come on Vista, we need to head out."

"Ah, I'd better go," the blonde girl said with a sigh. She smiled at Taylor. "This was fun. Hopefully. we can talk again some time?"

"We'll see," Taylor said, shaking the finger that Vista held out to her. With a grin, the younger girl took a step and disappeared in that weird twist of space that she did. Taylor sighed and leaned back in her chair feeling utterly drained. "Mrgle," she mumbled as she rubbed her face tiredly.

"Are you alright milady?" Carwyn asked as he and Emhyr stepped out of the house.

"Tired. Exhausted really," she told him. Somehow even her wings felt exhausted.

"Hmm, from the conversation or the display of magic?" Emhyr asked.

"The conversation," Taylor replied, giving him a quizzical look. "Why?"

Emhyr stroked his beard. "Interesting. Truthfully I didn't expect a display of so much power so soon. Perhaps you are ready for more than we first thought. Not today mind you."

They looked up as Danny entered the room, beer in one hand and a troubled look on his face. He sat down by the town with a deep sigh. "How are you doing, Little Owl?" He asked.

She frowned up at him. "A bit tired, but fine. What about you? You look like you've been run over." His eyes looked a bit unfocused and he seemed unsteady sitting there. How many beers had he had already? She frowned. If Assault came back she was going to have words for him about getting her dad drunk in the middle of the day.

Even if he probably needed it.

"I feel a bit like it," he sighed, taking a sip of his beer. It was too full to have been the same one he left with. "God Taylor… I should have noticed… something. The fact that you hadn't gone over to her house in months."

"Dad," she tried to interrupt.

"That she didn't come here," He continued.

"Dad!"

"Hell, I should have noticed the effect it was having on your marks, your mood. I…" He buried his head into his palm.

"DAD!" He looked up at her shout. "This wasn't your fault… I don't know what caused this, but it wasn't you. Don't blame yourself."

"I'm your father. I'm supposed to do better than this," he replied softly. Silence fell. After an awkward minute, Carwyn stepped forward.

"Lord Hebert," he began, getting her dad's attention. "This is a complex issue. I'm a father myself. Seven sons and two daughters."

"Lot of kids," Danny remarked.

"Not so many for a Dwarven family," Carwyn shook his head. "They weren't all at the same time mind you. But, I've had to deal with situations like this. The two of you need to have a talk. A long one, about a lot more than just today. But right now isn't the moment. Taylor is exhausted and you are well into your cups."

Danny glanced down at the beer and chuckled grimly. "Five beers in isn't the best time to be making decisions," he admitted. Catching a raised eyebrow from Taylor he shook his head. "Didn't sign anything back there. Assault flat out told me that the current crop of Wards wasn't right to shove you into. Something about a troublemaker."

"Shadow Stalker. Vista said the same thing," Taylor added.

"Yeah… I think I'm going to finish this beer and watch some TV," He decided.

"I think I'm just going to go take a nap," Taylor nodded. They shared a look. Carwyn was right, there was a lot to talk about, but now wasn't the time for it. Maybe tomorrow.

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