Chapter 23: Motivations

- Wanda POV -

Softly cooing to Timmy, she cradled him in her arms, her voice filled with tenderness. Sinking into the plush embrace of the oversized flower-shaped chair, she found it even more inviting than expected. She had held high expectations, given how comfortable Timmy had looked sleeping in it earlier. Surrounded by the peacefulness of the outdoors, the room's solitude brought her solace. The gentle breeze carried the delicate scent of vanilla and almond, mingling with the hawthorn tree's blossoms, which gracefully fluttered. It was as if the room was adorned in a floral snowfall, creating a tranquil atmosphere.

As Timmy cooed and squirmed in her arms, a warm sensation spread through her chest, filling her with a sense of joy and contentment. Her heart fluttered with each tiny movement he made, and she couldn't help but smile as she watched him reach out to grab hold of her finger with his tiny little hand.

Despite the potential risk of being caught by Nova or Piper, she knew that playing the Baby Game was the best way to bring comfort to Timmy. Safe in her arms, the worries that once plagued her boy's mind became distant echoes, drowned out by the soothing whispers of her affection and care. His troubled thoughts dissolved into a blissful oblivion, replaced by a profound sense of peace. It was as if time stood still, and the only existence that mattered was the bond between them.

Cradling Timmy in her arms meant more to him than just a game. It was a sanctuary, a haven where he could find solace and heal his heart. As she continued to gaze down at him, a sense of determination washed over her to not only protect him, but to do whatever it took to make him better, even if it required taking a few risks.

While she would prefer Nova and Piper did not learn of the Baby game, it probably would not do any harm if they were to find out. Both of them already knew how much she loved Timmy, and they didn't seem like they would share this information with Jorgen.

Jorgen would be a threat if he were to learn about her true feelings, though. He was determined to prevent any future incidences like what happened with Dulice or with Bubbles. He would separate them forever just as safety precaution if she gave him enough reason to do so.

But for now, Jorgen was not here. It was just her and Timmy, and she didn't have to worry about Cosmo sneaking around to spy on them or eavesdrop, offering his unsolicited opinions.

The thought brought a wave of relief, easing the tension in her muscles and allowing her to fully immerse herself in the moment.

During the first hour, she kept him in his usual baby form, as she always did. However, as he started to recover and respond to his surroundings, she decided to try something different. She aged him up to toddler years so he could relax his troubled mind while still enjoying the comfort of cuddling with the "companions," as Nova called them.

Although the sight of the children transformed into animals distressed her, she couldn't deny that cuddling with them earlier had helped Timmy. The children, whom she refused to think of as mere animals, seemed fascinated by Timmy's transformation. They gathered around him, staring in what seemed to be a mix of amazement and wonder.

She wondered if they had never seen a human baby before, or at least not since they became what they were now. Initially, they had been curious and almost reverent when he had been just a tiny baby. They watched him in a hushed silence, gathering around the chair almost protectively.

But when she aged him up to toddler years, they became incredibly excited. They knew they were being given a chance to interact with him now, and their enthusiasm was palpable.

She held him close in case they were rough, but the transformed children were incredibly gentle. Each of them making their own efforts to provide Timmy with some form of comfort or amusement.

Ginnie, for instance, had opted to play the role of a plush doll and stayed chirping in Timmy's chubby little toddler arms, looking quite happy with the arrangement.

"Now, now, you be careful, ok sweetie?" She urged, stroking back Timmy's downy soft bangs as he looked at Ginnie, wide-eyed and curious. "These little ones might look like toys, but they're living things, so don't squeeze too hard."

Timmy nodded, his sweet grin an unspoken promise, as he gave Ginnie a light hug, resting a rosy cheek against her fluffy pink body. His smile, with his not fully formed buck teeth, was so precious that it melted her heart.

She had never made Timmy a toddler before. She hadn't been sure of what to expect, but he was just as incredibly sweet as she thought he would be. If only his pretty blue eyes weren't all fogged up; seeing the dead-eyes of the poor boy tinged his adorableness with a sense of sorrow.

"How is my little blue-eyed boy?" She fussed over him, petting his hair back. She hoped that she'd be able to restore his vitality soon and clear the fog from his eyes.

He crinkled up his nose a little. "My head feels yucky."

"Aw, does it?" She rubbed his head affectionately. The Stigmata had no dark, negative thoughts to bring to the surface with him at this young age, but it was still likely making it hard for the poor baby to think straight.

"Rubby, rubby…" Timmy's innocent joy brought a smile to her face. Despite the Stigmata's influence, he found comfort in her gentle touch. "Mommy's petting me, and I'm petting Ginnie," he exclaimed, his voice filled with delight. She couldn't help but chuckle at his adorable remark. Human babies really were such resilient and innocent things…their ability to find solace and delight in the simplest of pleasures was so…. angelically pure.

She smiled as the small ferret like creature that had greeted Timmy in the woods now crawled up onto his shoulders and nuzzled against his cheek. The squeal of laughter, such a simple gesture elicited, was heartwarming.

She watched as the toddler Timmy played, spoke, and interacted with the transformed children with an intelligence and physical capability below that of Poof's level.

Human babies were such simple, sweet, dependant, innocent little things. They found so much joy in the smallest of things and trusted the ones they loved completely. They were such fragile little things that were helpless to care for themselves…unlike fairy babies.

"Your such a sweet little thing." She nuzzled him, kissing his cheek, which made him giggle and kiss her back, leaning his head against her chest as he snuggled closer to her. One arm wrapped around Ginnie as he sucked his thumb with his free hand, his face shining in delight as he took in the colorful and cuddly 'animals' around him.

'…Yes…this is how a baby should act….' She thought, finally allowing herself to admit to the dissatisfaction she had been feeling for a while, one she had felt guilty about admitting to, even in the privacy of her own head.

For so, so long she had yearned for a baby. It was a desire that had persisted for thousands of years. The sight of little human infants, with their cries and coos, had always captivated her - their helplessness tugging at her heartstrings. Their silly, sometimes nonsensical behaviour, their funny reactions, how attached they could be, and how dependant they were.

She had often fantasized about nurturing her own child, witnessing its gradual growth. Being there to witness all its silly antics and helping it to slowly grasp the world it was in and how to interact with it. She had dreamed of all kinds of moments….

However, what she hadn't realized was just how dissimilar fairy babies were from human ones.

Although she adored and loved Poof with all her heart, there was something that had troubled her. Not long after being born, Poof spoke his first words. Then in a few weeks, Poof had already shown a grasp of the world and the things in it and had known mostly how to interact with things. In a month, he was potty trained.

At not even a year old, he was already attending school and had the mental acuity of a human five-year-old.

These days, at two years old, Poof's intellectual capacity resembled that of a human seven-year-old, albeit with far less maturity.

She had initially thought that Timmy's secret wish had caused this accelerated mental growth. Yet that wish had frozen everyone's physical and mental development, so it did not explain why Poof was so advanced and then she had thought that maybe he was a gifted child.

However, she soon realized that Poof's mental state was actually within the normal range for a fairy baby, as confirmed by Dr. RIP Studwell when she inquired about it. 'Fairy babies age slowly, but learn quickly, unlike humans who age quickly but learn slowly.' He had told her, laughing, unaware of how crushing this news was to her.

"A newborn foal learns to gallop within the first 24 hours of its life. It takes a human baby 24 months to run; it's kinda like that." Her father had chuckled when she had spoken to him about it, not wanting to just take Studwell's word for it. Her father had then put on some home movies. A six-month-old Blonda was already performing skits for the family on a makeshift stage while she kept trying to sneak onto the stage while strumming country music on his old guitar.

…It had been a tremendous disappointment when she realized that many of the things she had been looking forward to about raising a child would either not happen, or would be extremely brief.

She knew it was her own fault for assuming a fairy baby would be like a human baby. After all, they were completely different species. At first, she didn't want to admit her disappointment, even to herself. She adored Poof and loved him so much that the idea of admitting that any part of her was disappointment with him felt like a knife was being twisted in her gut, chest and head.

However, right now, as she watched Timmy, now the same age as Poof, behaving with the mannerisms she had always associated with toddlers, she couldn't deny her true feelings any longer. Poof was a wonderful fairy baby…but the babies she had spent thousands of years watching and longing for were human ones. Sometimes her godchildren would have a baby sibling or cousin…those were the only babies she had ever gotten to actually see since they had banned fairy babies when she was still one herself. It was seeing these human babies that had sparked her desire to become a mother.

Perhaps that is why she found so much joy in the baby game. It wasn't just about helping Timmy, but it also allowed her to experience the kind of motherhood she had spent thousands of years yearning for.

Her own experience as a mother to a helpless little baby had just been too brief and fleeting. The baby game provided her with the nurturing and fulfilling experience she had longed for. It gave her the chance to fulfill her dream of motherhood, a dream that had been abruptly halted by the rapid mental maturity of fairy babies.

"Mommy…pretty flower." Timmy handed her a blossom he had caught, as if it differed from the countless petals scattered about them; but it was special because he was giving it to her.

"Oh, that's sweet." She poofed up a little glass shell to encase it in and made it into a necklace. Timmy grinned, happy with her reaction to his 'present.' She bet that Mrs. Turner would have just said 'that's nice, dear' and tossed it away.

Actually, in the Turner's home movies, something similar had happened. There was a plate of cookies on the table, and Timmy had picked one up and tried to give it to her, but instead of accepting it, she just took one of the other cookies from the plate. She did not even take notice of how sad the little toddler's face had looked. Sure, the cookie he tried to give her did not differ from any of the ones on the plate, but to him, it was special because it was the one he had picked out for her. He had even tried to tell her it had more chips in it, only to get a 'that's nice, dear. Don't eat too many cookies.'

Mrs. Turner had not even taken notice that her little son had tried to pick out the cookie with the most chips just for her. If she had been in her shoes, she would have cherished such a sweet gesture.

Mrs Turner had inflicted so much hurt on their son, from little unintentional ones, like with the cookie, to outright cruel gestures—such as asking him to test some berries to see if they were poisonous. No wonder that Stigmata had so much negative emotions to feed on.

She gently stroked his bangs. "How's your head feeling, still yucky?"

Timmy put his two hands atop his head and nodded. "Less yucky, but still yucky."

"Poor baby." She cooed, kissing his head, imagining she was kissing the gentle little blue light she had seen in his dreams.

Being reverted to this age had freed him from the bad thoughts that had been plaguing him, but the negativity and confusion brought about by the stigmata was still there. At least his innocent, toddler-like mind had no darkness to dwell on. Initially, he had been quiet and unresponsive, even after being made into a baby, but after spending roughly an hour or two curled up in her arms, he had improved, and had begun reacting to her and his surroundings.

Now, as a toddler, he could react and speak again. However, he was still somewhat subdued, albeit much better than the state Gunter had left him in at age 12. It is possible that the simplicity with which a toddler understands and communicates had aided his recovery.

"Mmm.." Timmy nuzzled up against her. "Mommy's hair is fluffy." He paused for a moment and held up Ginnie. "She's fluffy. Mommy and Ginnie are both fluffy."

She laughed, giving the toddler a cuddle, whilst Ginnie chirped. "Yes, yes, and we're going to use our fluffiness to make you feel better."

"Fluffy, fluffy."

"Yes, fluffy, fluffy." She chuckled. Maybe leaving her hair natural hadn't been a bad idea. The baby version of her godson really seemed to like it, though he seemed more inclined to treat it like a blanket than her hair.

The ferret/rabbit like creature…child…that had come up to Timmy in the forest on their way to the village was also here, and it crawled up onto Timmy's shoulder, nuzzling its small pink nose against his cheek, making him giggle.

As she looked at his wrist, she noticed it was still red, although now it had faded to a light cherry red instead of a deep scarlet. Timmy's condition was improving, but with his upcoming treatment approaching, the Stigmata would need to show even more improvement. If they failed to make it better and his next treatment caused it to spread, it would be like taking one step forward and two steps back for the rest of his treatment. They would struggle to manage the steadily worsening Stigmata between his treatments, with each treatment making it worse. They had to do whatever it took to prevent that from happening. Although the baby game, her love and cuddles, and the snuggles from the transformed children were helping, it wasn't enough. She hoped that whatever Nova had planned would provide additional help. She also hoped that the only thing he had planned was fading the Stigmata. While she had been told that a child with Stigmata could not become a Kinder, she couldn't help but wonder if that could be a lie.

"Mommy, mommy, what's its name?" Timmy asked petting the Ferret/Rabbit, which was now trying to climb up on his head.

"Oh, I don't know." She confessed. "You'll have to ask Nova…"

"What about that one?" He pointed up at a colorful kitten/butterfly thing whose body was humanoid. It had been creating colorful little shapes and puffs of sparkle dust for a while now, creating a miniature little display of color in the air whenever Timmy looked up.

"I don't know that one's name either." She played with his hair, picking some flower petals out of it. "I only know Ginnie's name."

"Can I name them?"

"I'm sure they do have names. We just don't know them. Nova will tell you."

"I'll give them nicknames," he declared, his finger pointing at each creature as he rattled off whimsical names. The room echoed with the sounds of his childish ideas, like "Flutter Meow" and "Leafy Buns." A soft chuckle escaped her lips as the transformed children cringed at their temporary titles. Ginnie, spared from the well-intentioned nicknames, giggled with delight whenever one of their furry companions received a new moniker. The boy looked up at her, beaming with pride as if he had achieved something momentous. And indeed, the fun his fanciful naming had produced had faded the Stigmata by a bit. She pressed her lips against his forehead, embracing him tightly. "You did wonderfully, my sweet cupcake," she whispered. "Yay, I'm mommy's cupcake!" he exclaimed, his joy filling the room. "Yes, my little pink cupcake," she cooed, snuggling him tenderly. He looked up at her with a wide grin.

"I love my mommy."

"And I love my baby blue-eyes." She tickled him, making him wiggle and laugh in delight. How sweet he was! It was almost a pity to have to return him to his normal age. If she could, she'd want to keep him small like this and raise him all over again, this time with all the love, care and attention he ought to have gotten.

"My head feels a lot better now, mommy." He nuzzled his head against her, almost like a tiny puppy. "Only a little bad now."

"I'm so glad to hear that." She stroked his wrist affectionately, feeling a hint of pride and satisfaction as she saw that the Stigmata had faded even more. Perhaps she had underestimated herself. At this rate, they might not even need Nova's idea. Maybe a little bit of baby-escapism, combined with some cuddly friends and most of all—her love — was all that was needed to help her little angel.

— Jorgen POV —

With the box of popsicle stick creations tucked under one arm and a bag filled with knitting materials and human snacks in his other hand, he ventured through the forest. Surprisingly, he found himself uneasy about not having both hands free, despite knowing that the Fey were much more powerful than him. He still preferred to be able to defend himself if necessary. As he trudged through the forest, he strained to keep his ears open for any signs of a sudden ambush. He wished he could simply teleport to the village, but there was a frustrating magic barrier preventing outsiders from doing so. Only Queen Mab and her court had direct access to every Fey village in her Circle. Others who wanted to teleport in had to be given a special ointment or elixir by the village's Fey inhabitants. Unfortunately, they had not offered him such a solution. The closest he could get was the entrance to the forest, the same place where all the children Nova had helped the Fey lure here would start their "trial of the forest," as they liked to call it.

He despised this forest. The unnatural growth of flowers and vegetation repulsed him, as they seemed to playfully disrupt the natural order. The sight of the fruits made him queasy, knowing they were alluring yet poisonous, responsible for the metaphorical demise of countless children. And then there were the children themselves, transformed into primitive beings, their bodies a bizarre amalgamation of animals, plants, or abstract ideas. They were treated as mere ornaments, enhancing the scenery. They were pets, summoned at convenience and discarded back into the wilderness when no longer needed for amusement. Merely curiosities to observe when boredom struck, they had lost their childhood innocence, their aspirations, and even their sense of self.

Jorgen was well aware of his faults. He acknowledged that he was harsh towards children and possessed a mean sense of humor. In fact, he even derived enjoyment from messing with them. His behavior had consequences, as the council had banned him from having his own godchild due to his rough nature. Even the extreme-stunt wishing Turner couldn't withstand him as a temporary fairy. However, even he found that the way Fey toyed with children's lives, while pretending to be their saviours, absolutely sickening.

The very idea of enchanting fruit to manipulate children into wanting to eat it, only to transform them into simple beasts, both in body and mind, if they took a bite, was monstrous to him.

Despite his efforts to avoid encountering these transformed children, they seemed to be everywhere in the forest. No matter where he looked, he spotted animals that he knew were once children, but they had changed so much that he couldn't even recognize their true identities. It was a small mercy, though not a constant one.

As he walked down the path, a slender form suddenly darted in front of him, resembling a gazelle. Its opalescent fur shimmered, shifting in hues from soft lavender to iridescent teal. Resting against its back were large luminescent dragon-fly wings, folded and twitching slightly. The creature came to a stop, fixing its gaze upon him with eyes that no longer held even the faintest trace of humanity. He immediately recognized who it was - Estelle Lenoir, the last of the Godchildren that Nova had aided in smuggling into Fey World at the request of her godparents. His recognition stemmed from the fact that he had narrowly missed saving her. If he had only been a little faster, he could have prevented her from biting into that fruit. This was his first time actually witnessing the transformation unfold before his eyes.

…He still sometimes had the occasional nightmare about it.

As he looked down, movement caught his eye. He saw five small calves bump against Estelle's legs. A surge of mortification and nausea coursed through him, causing him to momentarily set down his bags. He clamped a hand over his mouth, overwhelmed by the sight. The calves, however, immediately raced over to investigate. One of them even managed to snatch a ball of yarn. Estelle hit her hoof against the ground, summoning her young back to her side. She then walked off into the forest with them in tow, one calf proudly carrying the ball of yarn in its mouth. He wiped his mouth, his gaze fixed on the space where Estelle and her calves had disappeared. The situation should not have come as a surprise. With human children being such a limited commodity for the Fey these days, it was only natural for them to breed their 'companions' - after all, they were now animals.

It would be so easy to shun the Fey as amoral, hypocritical monsters…but Fey and Fairies were technically the same beings; and that he, Tannfe, and every fairy he knew would become just like them if they ever joined with their other half.

"….Turner…you better not let yourself become another one of their victims." He picked up both the bags and his pace; after all, he learned from Estelle's fate that a few seconds could make all the difference.

— Nova POV —

As Nova watched Wanda play with Timmy on his own private screen, he couldn't help but think, "Seems like my dear daughter-in-law has her quirks."

He leaned in his chair, taking a moment to relax, sipping from a glass of an emerald colored drink that smelled of black licorice. He had a lot on his mind, and had been given no proper time to collect either his thoughts or his emotions. In his room, he slowed down time to gather himself before the festivities.

Piper was organizing a little party, hoping it would fulfill the heart-soul's desire for attention and affection and improve the situation. However, convincing Wanda to bring Timmy to the gathering might prove tricky. Wanda was naturally mistrustful and guarded, and it was understandable considering the circumstances. Typically, taking the boy to such a party would result in attempts to transform him into a Kinder. Fortunately for her, a Stigmata prevented the transformation, and he had no intention of forcefully taking the boy. He believed there was still a chance to convince Wanda to willingly join them. Furthermore, Piper didn't want Timmy to be turned prematurely.

…Piper was very excited and had lots of plans for the child; plans he'd need to keep a close watch on to make sure that they remained in the boy's best interest.

He smiled as he watched Timmy play whilst in the form of a small toddler.

Schnozmo had been that size when he had been banished to Fey World. The last thing he had done with his eldest son was scold him for conning all his playmates at the daycare out of their cookies with a rigged ball and cup trick.

He wondered if Schnozmo was still getting up to such shenanigans? Stella hardly ever wrote about him, not since he had let Cosmo take the fall and get arrested for some door-to-door sales scam which involved stolen property from the homes of various godchildren. Schnozmo had convinced Cosmo that he had been deceived and did not know that the items he had sent him to sell on his behalf had been stolen. Stella had, probably rightfully, not believed him.

Schnozmo was by no accounts a good boy; but he messed his mischievous eldest son and wondered if perhaps he…. and Cosmo…may've turned out differently had he been able to remain in their lives.

"Mommy, Mommy, look at me! I'm a cowboy!" He turned his focus back to the screen and chuckled. Timmy was sitting astride Hector, being given a ride around the room by the Kaleifur. Hector seemed liked he was having fun, and little Frederic, the Sprigglehop, was sitting atop Timmy's head, cooing while Ginnie, the Appapuff, bounded around the boy cheerfully. Billy looked a little jealous that Hector was the one the boy had ridden, despite Billy's Fuzzhorn form being just as rideable, but Hector's coloring was without a doubt much more attractive to a little child. Maria the Luminix, was flying ahead of them, making pretty shapes out of light for the little boy's amusement.

Wanda, who had been sitting on the chair, allowing herself to be entertained by the spectacle, laughed, and poofed a little cowboy hat on top of the boy's head.

Imagine how much better this boy's life could have been if he had been raised by her instead of his birth mother. No abusive babysitters, no burden of feeling responsible for his stillborn twin. Perhaps he could leverage this to persuade Wanda to join the fey. Maybe he could tell her that here, in the Fey world, she would have the opportunity to start over with that precious boy, as if he were her own.

He hoped he also got the opportunity to start over with his boys as well…

— Gunter Von Strangle's POV —

"And that is the situation, my fair Queen Mab." He bowed on one knee as he delivered his report. She was sitting on her throne, engaged in one of her many usual hobbies. She playfully juggled orbs of shifting colors that changed with her mood, occasionally pausing to toss one into the air and watch it transform into a flutter of butterflies. The colors of those orbs had gone through several extreme shifts, though had lightened to a sunshine yellow when told about a newborn soul. By the end of his report she had finished turning each orb into butterflies and flashed him in enchanting smile.

"It would seem our Candy Sweet has had quite the lollypop fall into her lap. Before her boredom could drive her to commit an unforgiveable act, a case she could only dream about literally walked right to her front door. How lovely that fortune has been so fortuitous towards her." Mab flipped a piece of hair over her shoulder, shrugging. "She got what she wanted without dirtying her hands."

"It is an injustice that fate seems to reward the wicked." He remarked, only because he knew that Queen Mab did not much like Piper. Otherwise, he would never dare to insult someone beloved by his dear queen.

Mab laughed. "Children who grow up with fairy tales of the good finding happiness and the wicked being punished will be sorely disappointed as adults." She reached out to play with one of the butterflies that had been released from her orbs with a fawn smile. "Which is why it is a blessing for all children to become Kinders and never grow. Even when they die, they can remain part of this wonderful fairytale and have an everlasting happy ever after."

Kinders, a waste of time and energy when focus could be better spent elsewhere, but his beloved Queen had her many eccentricities and her love of those nauseating little humans was one of them.

"Oh, I do trust they won't let that poor little boy leave our world?" She looked at him, hopefully, gazing around at the butterflies surrounding her. "It would be such a…waste. I have some truly young ones here, but new born…how precious it must be! It would be a true waste to have it age."

"They tell me he needs to return here every couple of days to purify the magic inside his…heart. They will probably turn him into a Kinder once he's become an Angel."

"Nova must be especially invested in this, since he might get a chance to be reunited with his family, but…" Mab's brows crinkled together. He hated seeing her frown, and if he knew who he had to hurt to get her to stop, he would do so immediately. "…I'm not sure if I want Nova's son to be part of my circle…an idiot of that magnitude…well…perhaps as a favor to Nova, I'll give him one chance…."

"There is no need to give chances to those whom you have to desire to reign over."

"Yes, but I do respect the sacrifices made by Nova to save all those poor children. When I was still on earth, I saw so many little ones perish at the hands of their parents. It warms my heart that someone cared so much to step in and risk everything they had in order to do something about it."

He gritted his teeth; Nova was always being praised by Queen Mab. He absolutely hated that such an ineffectual weakling, who had not even willingly chosen to join the Fey, was held in such high regard.

"But, to speak of better things, let us retract." Queen Mab leaned forward on her throne, eyes sparkling. "A new born soul! I never imagined I'd see such a thing, not with our world blocked from accessing earth. What did it look like? How did it behave? Ooh, you simply must tell me all about it!"

Ah, to have the Queen looking at him with such excitement and pleasure; he had been looking forward to this. "It was incredibly small, my Queen. Entirely transparent, but its body and eyes shine with a radiantly pure light. It was…feisty. Much more willful to the human it resides in."

"Ooh! I simply must go and see it for myself! Nova was indeed wise to block the room from being viewed; such a soul would have those nasty Soul-Slayers, or even…" Mab cringed, a shudder running up her spine. "The Slua Si, marching up the path to Bailena Leanbhanna Draiochta in a heartbeat."

"You need not fear any of those miscreant Soul-Slayers encroaching on your territory, my Queen." He promised and raised his head in order to give her an earnest look. "And if any of Queen Nicnevin's vermin even invades your circle by so much as a hair, the entire Von Strangle family will be ready to go to war."

"Well, hopefully things will not come to such. With any luck Nicnevin…" Mab's voice hit a mocking pitch as she spoke the name of the fairy Queen who was her greatest opposition with every bit of her disdain for the woman being clear on her face. "Will never find out about our special little new born guest! Oh, please alert that villagers of Bailena Leanbhanna Draiochta that I will be there shortly to get a look at it with my own eyes! It is sure to be such a little darling!"

"Go in person, my Queen? They ought to just bring it to you to observe." He gritted his teeth; Queen Mab was to be respected, a figure that one ought to seek an audience for, not someone who called on others. If there was one thing about his beloved queen that irked him, it was her frustrating lack of decorum and adherence to proper protocols.

"Uh no, no, to carry such a precious thing about is too great a risk. Whilst in their own village, they can shield its presence, but if they take it out—well, it would be the same as leaving the room viewable. I will use my magic to make it so that the room can only be viewed within the village. I do not trust all my servants to keep their lips sealed."

"Tell me the names of the ones you mistrust and I will cut out their tongues and present them to you."

"Oh, Gunter…" She shook her head, placing two fingers on her forehead. "Your quick resort to violence was helpful during the war, but you really need to learn a little more civility when off the battlefield."

It was not the first time she had given him such advice, but as much as he honored his queen, this was one bit of advice he could not heed. For a Von Strangle, every aspect of life was a battlefield.

— Piper's POV—

"Jorgen…wow, your timing, it's….so horrible." She remarked as he came through the clearing and walked into the village. His eyes narrowed at the obvious party she was sitting up in the middle of the village square.

"Let me guess, a party to try and 'welcome' Turner as a Kinder? There's no way Wanda would allow him to attend it, or did you plan to sneak him away here?"

"You know as well as I that the Stigmata prevents the transformation into a Kinder—or rather they don't survive the transformation if they have a Stigmata."

…Instead of becoming a Kinder or a Companion…the child became a plant….a fate even she found sad.

"Still, Wanda would not be so carless as to leave him in the company of you Fey; especially not in an area not bound by the safety protocols written in the contract. You could fool the boy into giving his hair, or fingernails giving you power over him, or you could trick him into consuming a part one of your bodies—making him develop a powerful affection for you."

"True." She admitted. "But Wanda is going to take him to our little party because appealing to the Heart-soul's desire for lots of attention and affection might be the only way to fix the Stigmata your father made bleed, before his next treatment causes it to spread."

Jorgen turned several shades paler when his father was mentioned and he nearly dropped the bags he was carrying. She did not give him time to recover before continuing.

"So Yeah, she'd rather have him at our little party than risk the Stigmata causing permanent damage to his Mind-Soul."

Jorgen heaved an enormous sigh and lowered one bag he was carrying in order to cover his eyes; as if hoping to avoid any vulnerability from showing in his face. "Damn it, what did he do this time?"

"Well, Wanda might have ended up reduced to a pile of fairy dust had Nova not stood in front of her. That woman really needs to learn when to keep her mouth shut."

"What did he do to Turner?" Jorgen almost seemed scared to ask.

"Whelp, he called him brain damaged, questioned if he was really a boy, and basically said the reason his parents hire his abusive baby sitter is because they want him dead."

"…Seriously?"

"Oh yeah, it was brutal."

"…Is he…?"

"Don't worry, your daddy's gone,"

"Don't call him that. He's no one to me."

"Well, I'd say the feeling is quite neutral. It's just like they say, like father, like son." She remarked, turning her back to him.

"I'm nothing like him!"

"Yeah, if you weren't…then Nova would never of had to of resorted to doing what he did."

"That's not—!"

"Ah zip it." She made a zipping motion across her own lips, making a magical zipper appear across Jorgen's as she continued conjuring up a festive atmosphere, filling the table with her specialty toffee, also known as fairy candy in some parts of the world. She also prepared cupcakes, or fairy cakes as they were known in some parts of Earth, along with fairy floss, fairy butter, and fairy bread. For the Fey, she planned to serve Absinthe, known as Green Fairy. Of course, little Timmy couldn't drink alcohol, and she wouldn't allow Wanda, who had a treatment to perform, to indulge either. She hoped that by offering only enchantment-proof foods at the party, it would show goodwill and help relax the uptight God Mother.

Jorgen angrily protested, demanding through a series of grunts for her to remove the zipper from his mouth. She rolled her eyes, removing the zipper. Not because he asked her to, but because, frankly, he sounded like a constipated gorilla.

"Look Jar-head, we don't need you making a bad situation worse. We don't have much time to lighten the Stigmata before his next treatment."

"Then why isn't this being done in their room where time runs slower?" Jorgen asked suspiciously.

"Oh please Jorgen, what do you think we are, fairies?" She rolled her eyes at him as she created table ornaments made from cotton candy and toffee. "If we can slow time in one room, we can slow it down elsewhere too."

Ok, it was not that easy—if it was, they'd be able to slow time to a crawl and keep their Kinders alive much, much longer. It took a good chunk of Nova's magic to slow time in the recovery room and the extra lavish room he had made for Wanda and Timmy was enough to drain 1/8th of his magic.

It would take a bit of magic from each Fey gathered to slow time within a space as large as the village; easy to do for up to a week, but after that, it would start to be too much of a drain to maintain. An hour or two for a party, however, easy peasy.

She glanced down at the bags Jorgen was holding; she sensed zero magic from the contents. "So, that's for the soul? Nice. We can use those for the party."

Jorgen was predictably reluctant, but placed some really finely made popsicle stick furniture on the table. The painting job wasn't great, but the craftmanship was impressive.

"Haha, seriously, a little mini outhouse?" She opened the door and peeked inside, laughing. "Haha, it even has all the details inside, aah, that's too funny! Did Nova's son make that? Not plain vanilla like his father, is he?"

"More like rocky-road…with extra nuts."

"Oooh, yeah. I'll agree to that one, alright." She clicked her tongue; loads of nuts, that Cosmo was from the sounds of it, but…she grinned to herself, she hoped he came to Fey world; he would definitely liven things up around this boring self proclaimed paradise.