Chapter XIII: Rashid and The Winter Court

AN:

Hey there, Fan-fic-folks!

Realised I'd had more than a few chapters without Max and Chloe having an actual conversation. Pushed the plot forward nicely, but it's just plain weird to not have them chatting. So, I figured I'd get both in this chapter.

Thanks for reading and, as always, please review.

I pushed the point again, leaning forward in my seat. "Look, we've been back in this place a week now, and you haven't been able to decide who we're going after next and Weatherwax is off fuck-knows-where doing fuck-knows-what. I need to go see my parents - I'll be barely any time. I haven't seen them since Edinburgh, so they don't even know if I'm alive, and-"

"Max-" Ebenezar laid a hand on my shoulder and my babble cut off instantly. I looked up, my eyes locking on his across the table. As best they could, anyway - I was very distracted. Dog, his eyebrows had definitely gotten neater since the cave. How the fuck did that work? Did this place have a barber?

He took a deep breath. Whatever he was about to say wasn't going to be good. I could see his shoulders setting firmly with the motion. One of those solidly parental motions they bring out when they know their kid isn't going to like what they have to say. Hmph. "We don't know what the enemy knows. We don't know who they are, or what they can do. They have access to everything back in Edinburgh - if they thought for a moment your parents knew anything about us, what do you think they'd do?"

"My dad is a Knight of the Sword, Sir. He can take care of himself."

"Can the rest of your family? And even then, can he watch them every minute of every day?" Another deep breath. He smiled sadly. "I understand, Max. I really do. But it's not the time."

I sat back again. Without me thinking about it, I slammed one hand down on the table. Fuck. That's... just... I pursed my mouth. Holding back from saying what I knew I shouldn't. Ebenezar watched me quietly from beneath those bushy, bastard brows. Fuck!

After a few seconds of quiet (and an exchanged look with Listens-to-Wind, who had the other seat at our table), Ebenezar leaned in. He placed one rough, calloused hand over mine. His eyes pinned me to my seat. "Do you understand, Max? I have to hear you say it, lass."

"Yes. I understand." I spat out. Full grumpy teen mode activated. I crossed my arms and slumped down in my seat, spine like a drunken cat. "I don't like it, but I understand."

He nodded, and pulled back. The same hand that had comforted me a second ago now went and dusted off my shoulder. The invisible dust of imagined sin. "Good on you. We need to keep mission security fully secure here."

"I know!" I groaned, rubbing at my temple. "I agreed with you, Ebenezar. You don't have to keep trying to persuade me."

He chuckled. "Sorry, Max. Old habits die hard. I know what you apprentices are like. Lucky for us there's a fully stocked kitchen in this place."

"Not actually an apprentice anymore..." I muttered.

He frowned. "That is a good point. You'll be needing another teacher when all this is over." Those firmed shoulders dropped. "I know I'm not Harry, but I'd be honored if you'd let me take up the role."

I didn't look up at him, but I knew he could see the redness at the tips of my ears. One of the few times I've ever cursed my taste for shorter hair.

I nodded. He beamed.

The bastard.

"Right." He rose from his seat with beatific grace, and no small amount of relief. Part of me was half hoping for his stole to get caught on something, but no such luck. "Now, I'm sorry to do that and run, Max, but I'm afraid the Council duties don't exactly lighten up in times of stress like this."

I nodded again. "Right."

With some vague platitudes, he and Listens-to-Winds ambled off. Presumably to find the Wardens and the other actual members of the White Council. I let my head fall roughly forwards until it was cradled by my hands. I sat there for a few long moments. Just... breathing. In. Out. In. Out. In. "Aaaagh!"

I whirled and punched Chloe in the shoulder. "You asshole!"

She laughed. The bitch. "Sorry Maxie. Couldn't resist, you standing around, lookin' all lonesome and scare-able."

"John Wayne, you are not." I shook my head. "Drop the accent, Cowboy."

"You're just jealous I have a talent you don't." Chloe smirked.

"Not even a little. If the fate of the world ever depends on a John Wayne accent, you'll be recruited to make shit happen." I grinned broadly at her. "I'll finally get a day off."

She faux-glared at me for a few long seconds before her face cracked into a grin and then a loud belly laugh. A guffaw, even. I've never used that word before, but it was the only thing that felt appropriate here. I let only the faintest twinkle of my own amusement beam through my expression before breaking into a guffaw of my own. Dog, it was ridiculous, but it felt so good to be ridiculous.

Eventually, we came down from our giggly high and Chloe got all serious again. It permeated her whole body, expressive as she was - everything from her expression to her posture screamed business. But still, she hesitated. Just for a moment, before saying quietly, "Can we talk?"

"Sure." I answered immediately. I'd always do my best to make time for her. "Wanna head back to the room?"

She thought for a moment, then shrugged. "Sure. Probably shouldn't talk about this shit out in the open where any fucker could hear, I guess."

Well. If I wasn't curious before...

She headed for the stairs back up to our room, and I trailed along behind her.

When we'd both sat down on the bed, everything stayed quiet. It wasn't quite what I'd expected. Whatever was bothering her, she must be really concerned about it. One of those things that really got under her skin. Maybe I should pull out some Empathy? I discarded the idea almost as soon as it snuck in. Never. No mind magic on friends. Not anymore. I could help her on my own. And if I couldn't, at least I tried.

It's what friends do.

So, I started out sharing myself. Vulnerability for vulnerability. Chloe always did like things fair.

"I'm so fucking angry at Ebenezar right now."

She stopped still. Stared. Said, "What?"

I explained the whole sorry conversation, from how the topic had originally arisen, culminating in his bullshit, unfair, completely correct ultimatum that I actually fucking agreed with. Damn shadow war. Why couldn't we just be like Bond, going around telling all and sundry about everything with no care in the world? Just that part of his character though, I couldn't deal with any of the more problematic aspects of his character - I really, really hated martinis.

Chloe just sat back, flats of her palms on the bed behind her. She shook her head, eyes awash with empathy. Then she rocked into motion, explosive as she always was. "Wow. Those assholes. Can definitely tell they're all old fuckers who only live for the job, right?" She drawled angrily. She was bristling, fully protective, nose flaring, ready to fight the world for me. Aww.

Honestly, I wasn't sure if she was right on that though. Ebenezar definitely had less... attachments than most people, but I knew he cared about Dresden and me. Didn't wanna pick on a guy for outliving anyone who wasn't a work friend and therefore also particularly long-lived by virtue of everyone at his job being magical.

That just felt... mean.

"So," I started instead, "What did you wanna talk about?"

Fuck. Master of conversation, I was not.

Chloe winced. Apparently, she agreed. But she was more than used to it by now, so she started talking anyway.

"So, uh... something hella weird happened, while you were out in the cave." She trailed off. Her mouth moved soundlessly a few moments. She took a long, deep breath, then her eyes set onto mine. Something had filled her with determination. "Weatherwax, after the whole fucked-up feather thing, she was freaked out."

"You saw that?"

"Yeah. Well, sorta - I only saw it from Weatherwax's side. Her eyes went all-" Chloe wafted her hand vaguely in front of her face. "-foggy, and she was kind of... nervous?"

"You sure that wasn't just 'cause I was yelling at her?" I asked. I paused, frowned. "Also, foggy? I don't know if you've noticed, Chloe, but her eyes are always cloudy."

Chloe politely didn't laugh at me. Which, fair, honestly.

"When she asked if 'that was the help you wanted', I asked if there was anything wrong with you - wanted to know if you were in the shit - and she hesitated."

She hesitated? "What do you mean?"

"So, when she's not happy about shit, she does this weird mouth creasy-thing, like she bit into a lemon," Chloe demonstrated, and it was all I could do not to laugh as she contorted her expression into the sourest, crinkled thing she could manage. "-And she totally did that then, but she hesitated first. Like she couldn't work out if it was something she wasn't happy about or not."

"And you're... sure?"

"Fucking sure, sista." She paused, and something dark drifted across her face. "Rach used to do something kinda similar - she could play a situation on a dime, turn anything to her advantage. But before she picked a way to go, she'd always get that look. Like she was calculating shit in her head - play all the odds, y'know."

"Huh."

"Yeah." Another pause to ponder. "Anyway, that's when she got out of here like a bat outta hell and she hasn't come back since. So, y'know. Probably connected."

She made a fair point. Connected indeed. "So, what do you think we should do?"

"I... I dunno." Hand up to the back of her neck. "I mean, I wanted to bring it up, just in case - but... yeah. I might just be fucking paranoid. Let's just... keep an eye on shit?"

Chloe? Counselling... patience? "Okay, so we're just going to... leave it?" I asked, just to confirm. I gotta admit, I was not expecting that. I mean, what the fuck?

"Yeah, fuck it. We don't wanna break shit just on my stupid ideas, right?" I blinked at the sudden appearance of Chloe's self-esteem. I straighten up, ready to fire back, when Chloe suddenly frowned and loomed over me, peering past and down to my back. "Uh, you know you've got a flower stuck to your back, right?"

"What?"

"Shuffle over, Hippie." I did, and she reached behind me. There was some scuffling, and then she pulled out a red tulip and passed it to me. Damnit. I tossed it onto the room's one desk.

"That is-"

"Hey!" Luccio poked her head in, settling on us. "We need everyone in the war-room. Now."

"What? Why?"

"We have a visitor. Get down there. I still need to find Ellis."

With that, she disappeared off down the corridor. Chloe and I looked at each other. "Well. Guess we're heading to the war-room?"

Chloe immediately dashed off. "Last one there is a rotten egg?"

I gave chase, yelling, "What does that even mean?"

She just laughed.

Chloe flipped around the corner and - pride of prides - just narrowly beat me to the war room door. She gave a cheer, rambling something about her long history of winning (cough cough - bullshit - cough cough) and her proud lineage of winners. When she noticed me ignoring her, she just flipped me off. We both broke into laughter.

Anna stopped me as I made to walk in. "There's a Sidhe in there. One of the important ones. Be careful. Does your friend know the rules about dealing with faeries?"

"Don't be rude, don't promise anything, don't eat the food." Chloe smirked. "That about cover it?"

Anna opened her mouth, paused, thought, then closed her mouth again. Then she realised she had to actually respond. "Well, yes."

Chloe beamed, threw her arm over my shoulder. "Awesome. Let's go meet us some important Sidhe peeps."

And with that, Chloe lead us into the war room.

Have you ever been in one of those places where there's a stark temperature difference between two spots? Like you take two steps and you can actually feel the drop in temperature, like you're walking through a wall of air? This was like that.

The war-room was so very, very cold, and I could feel every degree.

My eyes were immediately drawn to the figure standing near the central table. They were facing the table, back to us. Three long braids, tightly bound and woven with silver threads, went down to the floor. Their skin was a glittering ice blue. And they were tall, and stick-thin, like a delicate trellis that would hold crawling ivy. Well, if that ivy wasn't frost-tender, anyway - Winter Court and all that.

Aside from the Wardens, everyone else was already around the table. Every last one of them was eying the Sidhe, no small amount of wariness hidden badly on their faces. Dog, I didn't blame them. I could feel my own spidey-senses vibrating like a particularly off-colour metaphor as we approached.

Chloe, of course, showed no bother whatsoever.

Damn her.

As we neared the table, the Sidhe turned. Their face was filled with sharp, elegant angles that gave them an androgynous, but hawk-like appearance. I was pulled from my observing as harsh-slit eyes landed on mine. I felt the bottom drop out of my stomach and then keep going. It was how I imagined turning a corner to find yourself face to face with a massive tiger would feel. Then again, I didn't feel like much of a steak dinner - more like a bug under a microscope. Those feline eyes saw too much.

Then the door creaked open and the other Wardens filed in. The moment was gone.

After everyone was arranged and attentive, Ebenezar turned to the Sidhe. "As you've asked, we're all present. Now, share your message."

The Sidhe drew themselves up and stated, words dropping like heavy stones, the kind people used to carve menhirs from, "You are planning to seek out The Gatekeeper."

Everyone bar me and Chloe froze. We didn't even know that yet - how did they? Had one of the Council said something?

The Sidhe watched our shock for a moment, then continued, "I am here to warn you. This course of action is inadvisable. Do not attempt to find the Gatekeeper."

"Why not?" I asked, before I could stop myself. "And why are you even telling us this?"

"Payment for services rendered." The Sidhe responded, choosing to answer the latter and not the former question. Or possibly both. Or neither. For whatever unfathomable reason, I mentally muttered. The Sidhe met my eye and that terrible hawk-like gaze... winked. My complaining stuttered immediately.

What the actual fuck.

No. No way. Not letting this happen. I had to do something. They weren't going to tell us why - no Sidhe ever would - but maybe I could get us something out of this.

I stepped forward. "If you want us to do that, we'll need something from you. We're going into danger, and the Gatekeeper could be the difference between life and death." I shook my head. "If you want us to go forth more vulnerable, we'll need a trade. Equal value. That's how you all roll, right? Balance in all things?"

"You are correct." The Sidhe pondered for a moment, then nodded. "That is acceptable. One promise, commensurate in value, in exchange for this action."

Shit. I... honestly had not expected that to work. Not that I'd really thought about it that much. Best foot forward. "Uh, okay." I rubbed the back of my neck. The Sidhe eyed me, amusement evident. "Good deal, I guess?"

"Good deal indeed, Max." They pronounced it exactly right. A little shiver rippled down my spine.

"My message has been delivered. I will now depart."

They turned and left. That was... abrupt. Just our luck to get the one Sidhe who doesn't give a shit about clever wordplay and trickery. As the figure vanished, every person in the room let out a sigh of relief. "Wow."

"Yeah..." I said, "So, who are we going after instead?"

Everyone took a moment to mentally readjust before Luccio decided to answer my question. "Martha Liberty. She should be a quick stop based on the Council reports - we still need to flesh out the plan a little before we bring it to everyone."

"Awesome." I threw my arm over Chloe's shoulders - with our height difference, it was exactly as awkward to manage as I thought it would be. "In that case, we're going to go get Lunch."

"Weatherwax!"

The old woman turned to look at me. Her hood hiding blind eyes, though none-too-many of the wrinkles across her face. She slunk over to our table, so we weren't shouting across the room. Or so I didn't have to do it again. "Yes, Max?"

I paused. As she'd closed, I'd noticed she was carrying a brass pot. It was kind of like the old light-things... braziers? Something like that. Broad, quite shallow, handles on both sides. It was clean and polished brass, like a bell. And it felt thoroughly weird. Uh... I shook my head. Focus, Max. "You're back."

"Yes." She said. Which was fair - I didn't exactly give her a lot to work with there. We both paused in quiet for a moment, then she said simply, "I shall be returning to my rooms now, to rest."

"Could we-" I paused. Didn't quite mean to say that. Um. Here goes. Better too early than too late, I suppose. "Could we talk?"

Weatherwax's weathered face crinkled more. It was like looking at a river delta if the water was all dried up. If the land was desiccated and stressed and unfathomably, subtly far more ancient than you had any idea of. So, yeah. Lotsa wrinkles. More than I remembered - and it had only been a week, my memory wasn't that bad. But despite my thoroughly probing then probably quite blank looks, she nodded her assent and slid into the seat opposite me.

Chloe was quiet, just... watching. Her eyes flickered back and forth between us, and I could see her teeth worrying at her lip.

"What would you like to talk about, Max?" Her voice is quiet, but somehow cutting across the humming noise of the bar. Like someone who can project their voice across an entire theatre hall. Though I get the impression nobody else can hear her as clearly as us.

"You know what."

"Mmm." A pause. "My assistance to you, back in the caves."

"Yeah. Your 'assistance'."

"Well, I can only offer my apologies, Max." She said, "But you do have to admit - it was helpful. Those creatures would've eaten you whole without my intervention." Another pause. "I believe the typical response to that is to say 'thank you', but I suppose I'm no expert there."

I snorted. Right. "Yeah. Thanks. But still. Don't do it again. I don't like people fucking with my head. And trying to cough up a feather was absolutely terrible."

"A feather?" She paused again, but her face was distant. None of the previous amusement of the prior pause. Then it reappeared, like she'd turned on a switch in her head. "Would you prefer something else? Flowers, perhaps? Or maybe a roll of cheese?"

I leaned in, eyed her. Not that I could meet her eyes, hidden in the hood as they were. But I could see enough to know my thinking was right. She was hiding something. She'd been surprised. Maybe that's the face Chloe was talking about. "You're hiding something."

Weatherwax tilted her head. "I'm hiding many things, Max." Oh. What? You're not supposed to just... what kind of revelation is that? Who just tells people they're hiding things? "I apologise for that. I've kept my thoughts... well-veiled for many years. The habits of a lifetime are hard to break." She shook her head. "If you wish to know something, ask. If I can guide you to an answer, I will. But some truths are not mine to tell."

"Guide me? You won't just tell me?"

"Were I to simply tell you whatever you wished to know, you would forget it soon after. With guidance, with growth, with... thoughtfulness and investigation, the knowledge will remain yours far longer."

I shook my head. "Look, I'm not interested in your pedagogical philosophy. I want to know what you're hiding."

"As I said, Max." She smiled, slow and sharp. "All you have to do is ask."

I leaned back, staring intently at her. Questions flew through my head at a dizzying pace. Everything shimmered, like it does when you've looked at something too long without blinking. I finally reached out and grabbed hold of one, dragging it down to ask. And then Luccio appeared at our table, wearing what looked like military body armour of all thing. "The Liberty plan is done. Let's get to the war room."

Then Luccio left.

I turned back to Weatherwax. "We'll continue this later."

"I am quite certain we shall." Weatherwax responded calmly, "but for the moment, shouldn't we do as the Warden-Commander asks?"

"Yeah. Right. Come on. Let's go see what kind of plan the Council have cooked up."