My apartment was not the kind of place you would expect a woman like Mab to be. It was, for the most part, a basement renovated to be an apartment. The outside of the building it was in was crumbling ever so slowly as time passed, and the inside wasn't fairing much better.

My living room was also attached to a kitchenette, and there was only one door. It led to my not so regal bedroom and behind a door therein, my bathroom. Locked and warded, there was also a trap door that led to a sub-basement, my lab. My lab contained various tables and shelves, and a skull that wasn't really just a skull, and a fairly open space for rituals and circles of various natures.

The not-a-skull was Bob, an air spirit who had a memory a thousand times better than most humans could ever hope for. Convincing him to work could be a chore some times, but you'd be hard pressed to find a better partner.

Mab was the exact opposite of my apartment. She was nothing less than stunning. Her hair was as white as the finest marble or freshly fallen snow, and was bound up loosely. Her slender, pale skinned throat drew the eyes, and managed to lead them to the tastefully exposed cleavage of her generously sized breasts. They were pressed together and hidden behind a white-blue gown of what I guessed to be Victorian design. She stood, glancing distastefully at the small, but tidy home of mine.

"Mab," I greeted as I finished buttoning the white silk shirt I wore.

"Dear Harry," she greeted as she strolled to me, voice coolly jovial, as if greeting old family. Placing a delicate hand on one side of my cheek, she twisted and turned it, observing me with all the dedication of an aunt. "My, childe, with some effort, you clean up marvelously."

I grunted in response. "I take it you've arranged whatever ceremony you needed."

"Always business." She tsked. "Aye, childe, it is ready. I must advise you that your manners must be minded at all times."

"For Slate," I all but spat the name, "a stretch, but I'm certain I can manage."

Mab leveled a cold gaze upon me. "No, not for the mortal. The need for such a ceremony has not been needed for a great many a year. Few Knights have turned upon their court."

"So," I asked with slight confusion, "what is so special about this then?"

"Such is the cycle of life; such is the cycle of our court." Mab spoke cryptically. "To create, first we must destroy. A great gathering is planned to celebrate the coming of the new, and Winter and her allies shall see the fall of old."

"The new must… wait what?" I asked confused.

Mab pursed her lips in displeasure. "The act is very much pointless. It is the symbolism behind such acts that strike a cord in the heart of my people. Since our courts ascension to their place of power, it has been tradition. Traitors are captured and punished, and what passes closest to a hero is honored and celebrated."

"And you aren't big on forgiveness," I muttered. "So I can only expect one punishment to be doled out; execution?"

"Should that be your choice," Mab told me before giving me a cruel and almost hungry smile. "But as tradition stands, it is for the Knight to decide. Should you decide a more … extreme… display is needed, none would stay your hand."

"How ...considerate of them," I answered slowly. The idea of killing Slate was bad enough, but doing worse was… something I hadn't considered. "So were you present at Summer's gathering to announce Fix as their Knight?"

"I was," she admitted, "amongst the other Courts. It would have been rude had the Winter Queens not shown."

"Err… I hadn't realized there were other courts," I told her truthfully. "I mean," I amended, "I knew about Summer, Winter, and the Wyldfae but not really…" I trailed off.

Mab started at me and not quite at me with not really vacancy, but with little emotion. "I had forgotten," she spoke slowly and with what seemed an effort to not chide me on my ignorance, "that mortals were too young in life to remember the Old Courts."

"Old Courts?" I questioned.

Mab's eyes focused sharply on me. "Take care to listen well as I despise repeating myself. Nigh fourscore millennia or longer ago, Summer and Winter were united under a single banner, as were all Sidhe courts. The Sidhe Court of Tuatha dé Danann."

"I…" I began slowly, thinking back on stories I had heard, "I've heard something about them. Old Irish stories, I think. I don't remember the entire thing too clearly, but I think they said the Danann were driven underground by … someone. Conquered maybe."

"Wyldfae," Mab purred. "Sidhe who are of no Court that long for the days of old, telling tales of the glorious King. King Finvarra of the Tuatha dé Danann was known to be kind but efficient in his rule. He gained his throne when Summer and Winter were Vassals. He was, and is, hailed as the greatest of Sidhe."

"A real powerhouse then?"

"Not in the way you think it," Mab answered absently. "He was beautiful, charismatic, and able to sway many of the Sidhe courts to him. Those who remained in opposition chose neutrality against such a large force."

"So what happened? Why the split if everyone was so buddy-buddy?"

"As all things, Finvarra perished. A century passed and peace was maintained for respect of his rule, but it degraded quickly "War broke between the courts, consuming us; many lost to us forever. Summer was the first to gain advantage, Winter not long after, and all other courts became trivial in nature to us."

"That's something," I answered, genuinely interested. "What was that, if you don't mind my asking?"

"I know not of how Summer gained their power, but within my own fortress, Arctis Tor, the Queen of her time found power in its walls. Truth of its origin is lost even to us, but our heart has remained there of respect to our foremother's sacrifices."

"Oh," I sighed, fussing with the sleeves of my silk shirt.

"Well, we needn't keep the guests waiting, need we, my childe?"

----

Originally, I had assumed any festival Mab was holding would be at Arctis Tor, her fortress within the heart of Winter. It seemed, in hindsight, a rather moronic assumption. Arctis Tor was Winter's heart, the seat of power within the Unseelie Sidhe court. To display all of her defenses to any number of possible enemies was outright foolishness. Mab may not have been the most subtle when she tilted her hand to show power, but she was by no means a fool.

Instead, I was lead into Undertown, back to the aging hotel I had first met Maeve in. I was left in a room upon one of the upper floors to wait for the guests while final preparations were made. Straight from the Roaring Twenties; the room I was left in was well kept. A desk adorned one corner, with an armoire in another; both of solid, sturdy woods of a pale color with a cherry finish added. Deep maroon carpet covered the floor and a comforter of matching color lay atop pale rose sheets. Off white wallpaper splattered with varying shades of red flower patterns was pasted to the wall. And all of it sat at an odd angle due to the slant of the old building.

I had spent nearly an hour of idleness when a young woman arrived. She was a pretty young thing, subtly so. Blue highlighted black tresses fell to her shoulders while dark blue almond shaped eyes gazed uncertainly at the floor. "Mr. Dresden," her timid voice called, folding her hands in front of her and giving a respectable bow. "My name is Trista; I'm to act as your escort for the evening. If it pleases you, sir, we may proceed to the gallery."

I raised an eyebrow at her slightly. "Escort? Not to be rude, miss, but that won't be necessary."

"Please, Mr. Dresden," she answered with such a minuscule amount of pleading in her voice I thought it was my imagination, "Lady Maeve insists. She would be displeased if I neglected my duty."

"Oh, err…" I muttered. Maeve displeased wasn't anything you'd want. Last time I had seen someone make her angry was Lloyd Slate, the man I was replacing. He had been charged with obtaining Elaine's blood and failed. It earned him a rather nasty looking knife wound of his own. And for as much as I knew Maeve or understood how she thought, I could guess she wouldn't care, even if I had turned the girl, Trista, away. Manipulative bitch, she probably was counting on that, meaning I'd have to watch my back with the girl, more than likely.

"Well, I suppose it's alright then," I told her calmly. "And you can call me Harry, if you like."

"That's very generous," she smiled softly, genuinely, "but my position forbids me those kinds of familiarities."

I gave a light shrug as I brushed a hand over my clothes to smooth them. "Shall we go then?" I offered.

The hallways were just as fashionable and odd as the rooms. The same odd tilt made walking to the stairs an uphill journey. While I tended to avoid modern elevators, I suspected these older models would have survived my mood swings. It was just a pity that the tilt left them useless.

It was a rather nicely designed building, though. Nice, real wood trimming at the ceiling and floor, with a cherry finish. At the end of the large selection of hallway my room was located in sat two tables. Small, decorative ferns that had slid slightly off center, but still accented the stretch nicely sat precariously on them. The same red flowered, off white wallpaper ran down each wall seamlessly.

Trista stayed a step in front of me, fidgeting with her deep purple dress, as she led me to the main stairs. She kept her eyes forward but down slightly and her arms were folded in front of her, nearly protectively. She looked healthy enough, though. I wondered if it was because of what Maeve may or may not have done.

"So," I started casually, "If you don't mind my asking, how did someone like you end up mixed up with the Sidhe and Maeve?"

"Umm," she answered softly, "I made a bargain with Maeve. I ended up as part of my Lady's collection."

I looked at her for a moment. "What could you possibly have wanted so much you'd sell yourself to Maeve?"

She flushed red, from embarrassment I expect. "Uh… that's kind of personal. But I had to. It was just too much and Maeve offered me a solution."

Ah, I understood somewhat. She was young, probably no more than twenty. Pressure from her parents, school, or even her friends probably got to be too much. "Magic isn't a cure all, you know," I told her kindly. "Most times it's better to do it yourself, and more rewarding."

I thought I saw her smile somewhat bitterly. "Maybe," she muttered. "Maybe for someone like you who can do what you do with your natural talent. But I couldn't do it without Maeve." She paused at a large set of double doors. "This is it, Mr. Dresden."

The doorway that led down into the ballroom didn't actually have any doors, or hinges. It stood wide enough that you could probably fit four into its place, though. Just beyond stood a pair of girls looking to be in their early teens, one on either side. They had cool eyes and looked remarkably alike. They smiled sweetly, eyes fluttering as they fell upon me. I noticed Trista recoil just slightly and fall a step behind me. "The Queens Winter beg you remember your manners, Mr. Dresden," Trista imparted in as quiet and neutral a voice as she could manage. "You are representing Winter."

As I stepped down onto the first of three steps, the two young girls stepped forward and called in the sweetest, most beautiful voices I had ever heard, "It pleases Winter Court to announce this evening's guest of honour; Knight Harry Dresden, and guest." The voice had a heavenly quality to it, in an odd way. It seemed to flow over and through your entire body. It touched nerves that voices don't.

"Harry," a voice called, and I felt a slight push from behind. My eyes found my escort frowning in concern. When I turned back to the woman on my left, she smiled innocently. I coughed lightly and continued forward as polite applause rang out in the glamorous room.

"Sirens," Trista pointed out helpfully. "Gifts from the Merewiper court, I think." I watched her nod to a tall, lithe Sidhe on the far side of the room. Her dark brown hair fell over her shoulders, keeping the appearance of being wet. Her eyes, which looked brown as well from my vantage point, gazed curiously at me as I watched her. "Lady Lorelei is fascinated with them. She is a kind woman, but a little narcissistic and has a short temper. What I can gather of her, she thinks sirens are the only creature in Nevernever fit to entertain her vocally."

"Sounds charming," I retorted dryly.

"Honestly," Trista voiced in her quiet tone, "she is, just…"

"Slightly full of herself?" I ventured.

She flushed a little. "Yeah, something like that."

As she lapsed into silence a moment I took the time to look around. The room was huge and had a large number of people present. Dozens of tables were laid out, vastly expensive cutlery set out for use. None of it, I noticed, was metallic. The glasses and plates were a clear crystalline make and the eating utensils were of an odd polished stone. At first I thought it was marble, but it seemed a bit off to be that. White and blue swirls curled around one another in the finely carved pieces.

The tables were covered in a simple white cloth that still seemed to suit the tastefully extravagant room. Every table had a clear glass vase filled with water and flowers I vaguely recognized as lilies, but not much more. Each vase held three of the two breeds. One of them was a vivid orange color with pinkish purple splotches branching out from the center. Its opposite had the same pinkish purple splotches, but was primarily white. Somehow they seemed to complement one another and represented both Winter and Summer.

Trista politely rested a hand on my arm from behind me as she leaned forward to whisper. "If you're admiring the flowers, they are Panther and Japanese Lilies, if I recall. They're more than likely gifts from Meliboea."

Not a name I could recognize, but then my knowledge of fae was limited. "I'm not sure I know of her," I whispered back.

"She's a Summer Sidhe, I think. She is mostly seen in their territory anyway." She paused thoughtfully. "She has, from what I've heard, a strange magic. Botanomancy or something similar to that, I think. It does some strange things to plants. Like these, more vivid in color and will live probably close to six months even cut from the plant."

"Interesting."

The escort nodded. "Vaguely. Nothing like someone like me could accomplish. And they are very beautiful, in an artistic sense."

"You're a practitioner then?"

I watched her hesitate from the corner of my eye as she licked her lips. "Somewhat. I got the visit from the White Council and the explanation of the laws when I was seventeen, but not strong enough to be given admittance to their precious club."

I snorted in amusement. "Take it from me, you aren't missing much." She smiled slightly and left me to finish my examination of the room.

The floor, rather than being carpeted, was a dark, hard wood. Near the head of the ballroom there was a raised stage-like platform that had two separate tables set on it. Each of the four seats was positioned to face outward, watching over the crowd. In between the two raised tables was a rather large empty area. It didn't take genius to devise that this was the spot Mab expected my 'performance' to take place at.

And as hard as I looked, moving through the growing sea of bodies, I couldn't find my hostess anywhere. I could easily find Maeve, surrounded by bodies, in her white flowing dress laughing delightedly. My eyes lingered on her body far longer than I am comfortable admitting, given the very young looks she still bore. Lily, the new Lady of Summer, stood nervously beside her Queen, dressed as regal as the High Sidhe. Beside her was man on any other day I would have assumed a woman. Dressed very much like a high court official of olden days, the feminine man stood with pride. On his shoulder stood a rather good sized bird of some kind, decorated in reds and blues. He was chatting rather enthusiastically with the Summer Queen Who Is. But Titania's presence shone above all others. She hovered amid an aura of grace and beauty, a gold and white gown of silk and satin that looked made only for her, accentuated her every curve.

Titania was as stunning as her daughter, Aurora, and many of the Sidhe. When you looked at Aurora and her; you couldn't deny the relation. Her hair was as purely white, and eyes nearly the same violent green cat-like of Aurora's, but held a certain softer quality. Her face was formed of soft curves that even Aphrodite would kill for. Delicate pale neck dropped into the golden gown that hid her voluminous chest. Long, slender fingers gently held the crystal glass to rose coloured lips. Her eyes fell on me as her male counterpart dipped away to refresh her glass. In an instant quicker than I fully grasped, her soft features tensed and her eyes flashed golden anger. I could see the depths of her power in that instant, and it was nothing reassuring. She was the Queen Who Is of Summer. I could possibly be an equal to Maeve or Lily if I had the Knights Power, but even with that, I doubted there was any power I could hold that would protect me if she truly wanted me dead. And worse was Sidhe tended toward subtlety; I'd never see the knife till it was firmly between my ribs.

----

"Ah," a sensuous voice purred from behind. "Am I given the honor to finally meet the young and virile Harry Dresden?"

Hooded violet eyes shimmered in lazy concentration while her shining black tresses fell gracefully around her, covering her bosom. Each of the radiant woman's fingers was decorated with gleaming, magnificent jewels. A small jewel even twinkled from its place at her waist as it held up two knee length white cloths. The makeshift loincloth was all that hid the superb woman from the prying eyes of those around her. It hid her, but left nothing to the imagination as all of her long, tanned legs were exposed. She seemed, to me anyway, to be wearing some sort of perfume. It was … something like home. Musky old books and the scent of fresh cut grass and long rainy nights.

"I…" My eyes were no doubt wide as they drank in the dark beauty before me. "Hello…"

Trista, my escort for the evening, shifted nervously as her hand pressed lightly into the small of my back. "Mr. Dresden," her quiet voice whispered in my ear, barely recognizable over the noise. "This is the Countess of the Urvaci Court, Aspara." Trista treated the Sidhe countess with the respect her station demanded, but only as much as was necessary.

"Countess," I greeted evenly, with a bit of trepidation. "It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance."

"Nay," the countess chuckled. "The pleasure is my own, Knight Dresden. The Leanansidhe speaks so highly of you. And I am such a naturally curious woman that I could hardly resist approaching."

I paused at the name, not put at ease at all. "You know Lea?" Aspara hummed her assent and nodded. "Would you consider me rude if I asked how?"

"Not at all, pet." She smiled and sipped from a golden liquid. "The Leanansidhe was my master, a good many centuries ago. She apprenticed me, and taught me much which opened my path to Countess of my Court."

Curious, I studied her for a moment. "I hadn't known Sidhe were in the habit of apprenticing outside of their own court. You know," I waved a hand vaguely, "secret court spells and all that."

"It is far more common than you would realize," she answered politely, sipping her drink. "The Ellyllon Court of Storm Sidhe is quite well known for their gifting the Queens of Winter and Summer with their powers to summon the wrath of the heavens."

That was an interesting bit to know, I mused, as I watched the various Sidhe wandering from gathering to gathering. "But I thought they could do that anyway," I answered, adding, "You know… without help and all."

"Oh it is well within Mab's power to do so, Wizard. Just as it is in your power to throw fire and call the north winds." Aspara's voice hung in the air like a scent. It was more a gentle wafting than the reverberating echo I acquainted with Mab. "But like you, without proper knowledge, such spells turn upon their caller. The Ellyllon gave them the secrets of control, much like your master imparted onto you."

"I see," I mused to her. "Not that I mean to say I don't believe you, but that just doesn't sound like Sidhe to me. Giving away something like that? And for nothing?"

"The Ellyllon did not give such precious knowledge free, Dresden." Her violet eyes glittered in the dim light, as Sidhe mingled and danced about the room. "Peace, during a time when Winter and Summer clashed so blatantly, was their price. The eyes of the last two great Courts were turned away and the Ellyllon left to their mountain hallows."

"What about you?" I questioned, "What did you give Lea?"

"Much," she answered calmly, her smile dimming slightly, "friendship, an ally. But the true depths of my bargain are my own, Wizard, and such subjects are not spoken of in public. A rudeness of great offense, it is considered."

"My sincerest apologize then, Countess."

She waved away the apology with a well kept hand. "There is no need for such a thing, Knight. But let us move on to a much more fascinating subject. Tell me, how is it that you've come to know the Leanansidhe?"

"She's my godmother," I answered reluctantly, sliding past a rather large man. "My mother knew her probably."

"Probably? Are you not sure?"

"Relatively," I told her uncomfortably, before turning to my escort. "Trista, would you mind getting me a drink?" The blue eyed girl hesitated a moment, but seemed to understand what I was asking. Black and blue hair bounced lightly as she nodded and turned, vanishing into the sea of bodies.

"Ah, such a bothersome fly," Aspara hummed discontentedly, "a blessing to be rid of her." I gave the Sidhe countess a cool look, pursing my lips, but letting her quip pass. "But let us continue, hmm? One would wonder that if you were the Leanansidhe's godchild, then why do you not have a closer relationship?"

"Our relationship is as close as it can be, all things considered," I admitted. "I've always been told Sidhe don't recognize love, hate, and those kinds of things like humans do."

"Perhaps we do not feel them as you do, but we do indeed recognize them." Honey hued liquid swirled in her crystal glass as she spoke over the buzzing chatter of the room. "Most, though, feel they are ... bankable commodities. Things to be bartered with mortals."

"How so?"

"Take Prince Aengus and his own court, the Dagda, there." The man she pointed to was the sandy haired Sidhe that I had seen conversing with Titania. "The Dagda trade mortals whom are in love. Most it is simply to create an illusion of love in the object of their consumer's affections, or obsession, whichever the case may be."

"Compulsions and enthrallments on innocent people," I answered.

"Aye, deplorable as it is, that is their most common form of business. Though it is rare with as few wizardlings being taught of the lesser courts. Rarer are Aengus himself dealing with mortals. He seems to have only an interest in punishing those who have scorned their lovers."

"Something acquired through previous experiences, I can assume."

"It is within the realm of possibilities," the countess mused, "but most don't know where his desire comes from. He tends to keep such failings secret."

"Ah, I see," I murmured, turning to focus on her. "What about you?"

Violet eyes seemed alive with something I couldn't identify as she spoke. "We Urvaci prefer simpler methods. The Dagda create illusions of what they want. Urvaci tend towards seduction, fanning the fires of lust. Illusions are but temporary falsehoods. I and mine prefer the real."

"I... suppose I could understand that," I spoke slowly, watching a pair of Sidhe dance across the room. "It would be more rewarding to earn something like that, than to create it."

"Yes," she whispered, barely audible over the crowd. Her smile shifted from its confident laziness to a hungry and seductive smirk. My heart skipped several beats seeing it. "It is, Knight. And it is earning such … rewards," she placed a hand gently on one of my own, "that makes it so appealing to me."

"Err, you know," I told her, trying to find something else to look at, "if I weren't already attached to someone; that would almost be tempting. But you know us mortals," I commented nonchalantly, I hoped. "All those overly complicated ideas of monogamy and love and the like."

Aspara took a look as if looking at an amusing child rattling on about the most trivial thing they just learned. "Yes, you are such …naïve creatures. It has a sort of quaint amusement to it. But it is often the chase that is most entertaining, Knight, and not the capture itself."

"Chase? Capture? Am I only game now?" I offered sarcastically.

Aspara laughed a delightful sound as she answered without humor. "Of course. For now, at least. I may find you a curious commodity, but all of it's a game for me, dear Knight. But alas I must take leave of you now, and part with a last wish to speak again in the near future. Farewell till then, Harry Dresden."

"Uhh, yeah, farewell," I echoed, watching her slide into the mass of men and women. Turning I found Trista standing patiently at my side once more. Two crystalline glasses in her hand, the young ebony haired girl waited patiently until I focused my attention on her.

"Your presence is requested elsewhere, Mr. Dresden."

I nodded slowly. "Lead on, then," I offered, gesturing vaguely.

----

The feast had been a grand affair, with a great many delicacies presented in majestic fashions. The large swine that had been served that I had mistaken as a simple pig was actually clay baked boar. Stringy and a bit salty, the dish had retained quite a bit of flavor and moisture. The old fashioned method of cooking had left a succulent dish that was all around scrumptious. A good variety of what was served on the side had consisted mainly of vegetables. Baguette of Root; a large loaf of bread stuffed to burst with steamed vegetables, for example. Char grilled salmon was served as well; dressed in a watercress sauce and garnished with lemon.

True to her character, Mab had spared little expense when she had arranged such dishes. With the wide variety she had offered, I doubted even the pickier of the Sidhe would have trouble finding something to their tastes. From the motherly Lady Áine; who refused to eat any meat, to Taliesin, the Lord of the Grael; whom had a preference to soups of a murkier nature.

During the course of the hour long meal, I learned a good deal of the politics in the room from Mab. Like Áine of the Knockaine court. From the description, I got the picture she the motherly sort of Sidhe, but one with a fierce temper and great pride. Mab had even mentioned that after an …uninvited child, she had used her magic to seal the boy beneath a loch out of shame.

There was also a minor dispute on the borders of Magh Mell, the Nevernever territory of Winter, with the Búanann, Summer's Amazonian Sidhe warrior clans. I wasn't too certain on the details and I suspect Mab would have downplayed her own involvement, but apparently someone had vandalized and pillaged several villages in Magh na Anú. The various raids had happened over the course of a year and left three entire sects without food or shelter.

Having taken as much of the intricate political affairs of the Sidhe as I could, I excused myself to find a new drink and take care of something that had been on my mind for most of the night; squaring up as best as I could with Queen Titania. I found the alluring woman in the lobby with a centaur standing at her side patiently. A golden yellow cloak fluttered over her shoulders as she prepared to make her exit for the evening.

"Ah..." I huffed slightly. "Queen Titania!"

Glowing green turned to me and narrowed in the slightest sense, anger barely visible for a moment before vanishing. I could see the centaur guard tense slightly, hands ready to draw the rather large sword at his side in an instant. "Knight," her voice was as melodic and cool as a Summer's breeze.

I bowed slightly to the Sidhe queen. "Please forgive my imposing behavior," I let out slowly, mentally composing what I felt I needed to say. "But I ... There is something I needed to say to you..."

"Make haste please, young Knight," her voice was gentle but restrained "The night grows old and I wear of it."

I ... how do you apologize for killing a woman's daughter and not come off sounding ... empty? You don't, I suppose, but I had to. Aurora wasn't truly evil or bad or other such nonsense. Maybe a little off at times, but she had a good heart. She did what she felt was right for her people, consequences be damned. I could respect that. But I couldn't just sit and let her wipe out humanity to do it.

"I ... wanted to ..." I was never one for these kinds of things, you know? My father and Ebenezer were great role models, but I spent a lot of time with Justin too. Probably that time when most grow and evolve emotionally. Maybe I'm stunted, in that sense?

"I wanted to express my condolences and apologize for Aurora." I could see, just barely, her lips tighten. "I know you probably won't believe me, but I never wanted Aurora to die. She was... a good person in heart, but I had to do something. My kind was in danger and it would have been... wrong... if I hadn't done anything."

Titania stared at me for a quiet moment, eyes swirling with restrained power. "Sidhe put little stock in your mortal concepts of morality, Dresden." When she spoke, it was considerably colder than I had seen of Summer. "But we share one thing in common; our bond to our children." In a quick instant, Queen Titania stood barely a few inches from me. The stare she had leveled upon me felt like it fell beyond flesh and bone and saw only the soul. It was unnerving and entirely unpleasant.

"You took from me what is most sacred to me," the Queen's melodic voice seemed to pulse with displeasure. "And the hollow words of a fool are what I am penanced?"

I blinked; my lips dry and body suddenly itching. "I ... no, that's not what I ... just wanted..." I ran a hand over my face and my tongue over my lips. "I wanted to show you I am truly sorry for what happened, Queen Titania," I told her, trying to maintain an even tone. "If retribution is what you want, I offer it freely. Anything I have you desire is yours, if it's what you want; my life, my power, anything."

Green orbs glimmered in the reflecting light as a thoughtful pout at rose red lips. "Your life is without value, Mortal. You would have long since broken before I found end of your atonement. Nay, Mortal. You desire forgiveness?" I nearly shuddered at the feelings playing up and down my spine from her singsong voice. It was also surprising when I felt her pale, soft fingers drape gingerly across my chin and turn my eyes to meet the vibrant green. "Then find me your best of Winter's thralls. Sire me a daughter of her." A smirk tugged lightly at her, reminding me that Winter wasn't the only court capable of cruelty. "And upon the eve of her ascension to womanhood, bring her to me. And before all of Summer, bleed her as you did my own." She finished with a thoughtful pause; lips still a rosy red smiling smirk.

I... I couldn't deny that I didn't know if she was serious in her request or not. I never dealt much with Summer Court before, so I couldn't say positively that the whole first born child thing was an eccentricity of Winter or of Sidhe by nature. But is that really the point at the moment? A very powerful woman; one who has legions of devoted servants, one who could destroy my very existence with so little effort and still not need kill me; asked for the life of my daughter as if it were so simple. How could anyone willingly do something like that? Could I?

No. No matter how much I wanted Titania's forgiveness, I couldn't do something like that.

A derisive cluck tumbling forth from her quirked lips as I parted my own lips. And with it, I was left with only the click clack of her elegant heels meeting the floor as she strode calmly towards the exit. She looked back at me only once, gracing me with a chilling smile before touching the centaur's arm and exiting.

---

Thank to Nuhuh, Surrarin, RKOver, and anyone else im forgetting who helped me with this and all of the subsequent bullshirt ive put you through working on it.

Just to clarify some things Magh Mell is the Celtic Mythological land of the Plain of Happiness. Magh na Anu is the Plain of Anu, and I dun remember if I made that one or if it was part of Celtic myth. Almost all of the "new" sidhe you'll see are from Celtic Myth and their history inspired by them, with liberties taken by myself.

Also, following this chapter are three gift "omakes" written by Surrarin and Nuhuh. Much thanks to them.