Siren Song

Chapter 2: Explanations

"Be well, Fox. I plan to look in on you and Alexander from time to time.

"Must you?"

"Why are you angry? Didn't things work out to your satisfaction?"

"That hardly changes what you tried to do."

"What makes you think this isn't exactly what I've been trying to do from the beginning?" – Titania and Fox, from "The Gathering: Part Two"

"Are you sure about this?"

"No, David, I'm not. But I can't think of a better way to handle the situation." His wife's mouth was set in a determined line. He thought, not for the first time, how beautiful she was, how brilliant, and how strong. It had taken him a long time to admit to himself how much he truly loved her, how much she mattered. He couldn't forget how close he had once come to losing her, and then how close they had both come to losing their son. He had no desire to see Titania again, but he was resolved to trust Fox's judgment. For once, he was willing to follow someone else's lead.

They hadn't really discussed it much in the intervening months, that whole incident with Titania and Oberon – at least, not until now. So many things had happened that night; so many secrets had been revealed, not the least of which was "Anastasia's" true identity. That alone would have been overwhelming for Fox to process, but she hadn't really been able to absorb the enormity of it at the time, more concerned of the immediate threat of losing her son.

These days, he was watching her, and she was watching herself, looking for further signs of the long-dormant magic that had apparently been her birthright. But aside from the magical blast she'd directed at Oberon on that harrowing evening, Fox had yet to show any further signs of her abilities.

Xanatos rather wished she had. While he would have once seen her magical potential as simply another source of power, now he saw it as another means for her to protect herself, for them to protect their family. He had even flat-out asked Owen if he could teach Fox as well as Alexander, only to be given the answer which he expected: that Oberon's decree had only allowed for the training of the child, and he could find no loophole that would allow him to instruct both mother and son.

In the meantime, there was another potential magical ally – or enemy – out there, waiting to see what he would do, and he simply didn't know enough about "Molly" to make an informed decision. He was as wary of contacting Fox's mother as she was, but he had to agree that they hadn't come up with any better options.

And on a personal level, a part of him wanted Fox to be able to reconcile with her mother; he knew the pain of being separated from a parent, in more ways than one, having lost his own mother at a young age, and having only recently come to terms with his father after a long period of difficulty. He was well aware that Fox's father, Reynard, probably wasn't going to last much longer; in all likelihood, Titania would soon be the only parent she had left. Still, he couldn't ignore the possible threat the fairy queen presented.

So here they were, then. Fox was clutching Alexander tight to her, summoning up the nerve for the simple act of speaking her mother's true name. Owen wasn't there; he'd asked to be excused from the meeting, and Xanatos had quickly agreed. He suspected that Titania's presence would be a rather too painful reminder of what the Puck had lost, and he had no desire to subject him to that.

Suppressing the twinge of guilt he felt, he nodded at his wife, giving her what she hoped was a reassuring smile. She nodded back, looking grim but determined.

"Titania," she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

For a long moment, nothing happened. Perhaps Owen had been mistaken? The couple was just beginning to feel a curious combination of relief and disappointment when, in a sudden flash of light, the Queen of Avalon was before them.

Xanatos had to admit it was a rather impressive entrance. The very air seemed charged with her magic. Alexander babbled happily at her presence; for a child not yet a year old, his motor skills and language development were impressive; he was already able to say a handful of words quite clearly, and the child-safety latches they'd put on the cupboards and such had proved quite useless (fortunately, Owen had been able to use magic-proofing on the more dangerous areas).

"My dear daughter," Titania's smile was open and gracious, a look of pleased surprise shining in her eyes. "I had not hoped to hear from you so soon, if at all." Of course, for them it had been more than six months since the incident, but Xanatos knew time passed more slowly on Avalon

"I find that hard to believe, mother." Fox's tone was guarded, though not openly hostile. The fairy queen looked at her questioningly.

"Why do you say that?"

"You're married to Oberon; you rule by his side. Do you really expect me to believe that one of your own people made contact with my family, and you know nothing about it?"

Her eyes widened with understanding. "Ah. You are referring to the Banshee."

"Yes, and I'd like an explanation."

"I was aware that my lord and husband had upgraded the Banshee's punishment from enforced silence to banishment, but I was not aware she had made her way to Manhattan … though I suspected she would, eventually."

"Punishment?" Xanatos interjected, and she turned to him.

"Yes, David. You see, when Oberon began The Gathering, Puck was not the only one who refused to return home. There was one other: the Banshee. She was tracked down by the Weird Sisters and brought before my husband. Her punishment was to be gagged, deprived of her siren voice, until he heard humility in her silence. But the Banshee is a proud, stubborn creature, and the humbling my lord hoped for did not come. Even without her words, she defied him with her looks. So she was given a new sentence, one very similar to the Puck's."

"Eternal banishment?" Fox asked.

"Not exactly," Titania explained. "Oberon decreed she would be banished from Avalon indefinitely, until such time as he felt she was truly remorseful. He sent her out into the mortal world and suggested she find a way to make herself useful, hinting that doing so might encourage him to reconsider her exile. If she has approached you, I believe that is why."

"And just how can she make herself useful, exactly?" Xanatos asked. "Does she still have her powers, or did Oberon take them too, as he did with Puck's?"

"Yes … and no. He reduced her powers significantly, but what abilities remain, she can use anytime she likes – unlike the Puck, who can still use his powers to the fullest, but only in the training and protection of my grandson." Here, she smiled fondly at Alexander, moving towards Fox with her hand outstretched.

Fox reflexively backed away, and Titania looked pained, but not surprised. "I suppose I deserve your mistrust, my daughter," she said sadly, "Despite what I tried to explain to you after the battle. I hope some day you will be able to truly understand why I did what I did."

"Don't hold your breath on that one." Oddly enough, the tart reply seemed to amuse her.

"Such fire in you, my child, even now. I am glad to see motherhood has not dulled the flame."

"When you say he reduced her powers," Xanatos said, drawing her back to the matter at hand. "What does that mean exactly? How powerful was she before, and how powerful is she now?"

Titania considered. "She has always been one of the more gifted members of our race – as Puck is, or was, truth be told. The majority of her magic is in her voice; before my lord's decree, her keening could do a great deal, including kill if she so desired it. Now, it would say she could probably only maim mortals with her song."

"Only?" Fox snorted, but Titania continued as if she hadn't spoken.

"Aside from that, she has the other abilities typical of our people. Transformation – I am sure she came to you in mortal guise – illusion generating, flight, and the ability to cast spells with a specific aim – usually through the use of rhyming to focus the magic. I suspect she is still capable of all these things, but that they will require a great deal more exertion from her than they normally would. So even with her powers diminished, I would say she is still a force to be reckoned with. Of course, she remains vulnerable to wrought iron, as we all are."

"Do you … do you think we can trust her?" Fox's tone was not quite so defensive now. As angry as she had been at her mother, as angry as she still was, the love was there, underneath, and she wanted to believe that her mother's love for her, for her father, for her son, had not been just part of the illusion of her mortal identity. Titania turned back to her.

"If you would take such advice from me, my dear daughter, I would say that the Banshee can be trusted … to a point. She can be very cruel, but she can also be kind, when she so chooses, and despite her not wanting to return home, I can assure you she has no desire to be banished from Avalon forever. None of the Children possibly could."

"I suppose we should thank you then, for the information," Xanatos admitted grudgingly. Titania merely nodded.

"I am pleased you would seek my counsel, even after all that has happened. Perhaps there is hope for us yet."

"Well, as Fox said, don't hold your breath. But as a wise man once told me, the future is not written yet."

She smiled slightly. "Indeed, it is not. Be well, then. All of you," she answered, her gaze rested on each of them in turn, and finally settling on her daughter. "Fox, I hope you will call for me again … someday." She turned, seeming to sense that their meeting had come to an end, but then hesitated.

"One last bit of advice, if you care to hear it. I have given you all the information I can on the Banshee. If you desire more insight into her character, I suggest you speak with Puck."

"Really?"

"Yes, David. It was a long time ago, but when we were all first exiled to the mortal realm, I believe they spent a great deal of time together as traveling companions … though they eventually parted ways."

"I'll keep that in mind," Xanatos said.

"Goodbye, mother," Fox said, unable to keep the hint of sadness out of her voice.

"Goodbye, Fox," Titania said wistfully, her voice lingering in the room for an instant after her form had vanished.

"Well," said Xanatos briskly, turning to his wife, "that was helpful. Not exactly conclusive, but helpful."

"What do you think we should do?"

Xanatos paused to consider, drawing his arms around his wife and child. "I'm not sure. What do you think, Alex?" He looked down at his son, almost expecting an answer from the remarkable child whose powers he could not fully understand. Alex merely blinked up at him, seeming sleepy now that Titania's magical energy had left the room, and yawned.

Fox chuckled. "I'd say he's indifferent at this point," she said, and then grew serious. "You know, as much as I hate to admit it, my mother's probably right. You should talk to Owen about this. After that, I'll support whatever you decide." Just as he had been willing to follow her lead, she was ready to follow his.

"Alright then."

"I'm going to put him down for the night, David. Come back to me when you're done." She kissed him, softly, and walked away, placing her son gently in the crib. Except for occasional bouts of fussiness, Alexander was a very easygoing child, sleeping through the night more often than not.

He went back to his offices, where he found his assistant busily at work, looking for all the world like the perfectly ordinary human being Xanatos knew that he wasn't. He looked up expectantly when his employer entered, his features as guileless as usual. If the knowledge that Fox and Xanatos had been conversing with Titania had stirred up any unpleasant memories for him, no trace of that showed on his features now.

"Sir," he said, nodding by way of greeting. "I trust your meeting was … productive?"

"Fairly." And in quick, efficient detail, he began to fill Owen in on what Titania had said, or at least, the basic gist of the conversation. He paused afterwards, preferring to let his assistant absorb the information before asking him his any questions, as the fairy queen had suggested.

"There's one thing I'm not clear on, sir."

"Yes?"

"You said that, according to Titania, Oberon had 'upgraded' the Banshee's punishment to restrictions on her abilities and indefinite exile. May I ask what her original punishment had been?"

Had he not mentioned that? It hadn't seemed important, he supposed. What mattered to him was her state in the present, not the past. "Oh. I think she said he had her gagged –"

"What?"

Xanatos was startled by Owen's reaction. He looked horrified, sickened even, and what's more, he'd visibly paled.

"That's … that's not really so bad, is it?" Xanatos asked, completely caught off guard by his expression.

"Try to imagine, sir," Owen said, and for a moment, there was a hard edge to his voice that Xanatos didn't recognize, "what it would be like if someone were slowly suffocating you. Except in this case, there would be no release, because you could not die. You would be suspended in agony, between life and death, gasping for the air to fill your lungs, the air that never comes, trapped forever between breaths."

It took a lot a lot to shake Xanatos, but he had to admit that Owen provided a rather disturbingly vivid description.

"And that's what such a punishment would be like for one of your people?"

"Well no, not normally, but for her … I mean, her voice … it's … that's just not … not …" Xanatos was sure he'd been about to say, not right, but Owen caught himself, quickly regaining a large measure of his usual composure. "In any case, Lord Oberon must do as he sees fit," Owen continued smoothly, only a hint of bitterness is his voice. "And I see no reason Titania would lie to you now."

"I see. Then you think we can trust her – the Banshee, I mean. Or Molly, as she's calling herself now."

"To a point, yes," he said, echoing Titania's sentiment. "She would be a most useful ally, even with her powers reduced."

"Well then …" Xanatos hesitated. Normally, he wouldn't beat around the bush, especially not with Owen. He had no qualms about demanding from him exactly what he wanted, because of the deal he had made with Puck was for a lifetime of complete, devoted service in his mortal guise. Guilt was not an emotion he usually wasted time on, but he could not help but feel a little badly for how things had turned out.

He knew Puck hadn't wanted to return to Avalon; when he'd revealed himself and made the offer to Xanatos, he'd told him in no uncertain terms how quickly paradise got boring. Still, not wanting go home in the moment was a lot different than being banished for all of his immortal life. That night, before he'd once again taken on the stoic façade of Owen, Xanatos had seen the anguish in Puck's eyes – a look of pain, panic, and finally, despairing acceptance. It hadn't been a pleasant thing to witness.

Xanatos wasn't fooling himself. He would have easily sacrificed the fay's freedom to keep his son. He just wished it didn't have to be this way. Owen – Puck – had shown him an extraordinary loyalty, and it had cost him dearly. And so, he found himself rather reluctant to ask any more questions. Privacy, he felt, was one of the few things remaining in his power to grant to his faithful second-in-command.

He could afford, he thought, to put the more detailed questions aside, at least for the time being – though in the end, he suspected his own curiosity would get the better of him, if nothing else. Owen's uncharacteristic reactions had already proven quite telling, in their own way.

"Sir?" Owen's voice startled him out of his thoughts. "What are you going to do?"

Xanatos took a deep breath. "Owen, I think it's time you called on your friend."