As I stepped into my small home, a wave of relief washed over me. I paused, wondering, 'When did this place start feeling like home?'
Lord Cheshire entered right behind me, surveying the room with evident surprise. "I was told this was a modest abode, but I truly hadn't envisioned this. We can certainly arrange for more luxurious accommodations for you," he said, snapping his fingers. At his gesture, a small pixie materialized out of thin air.
"There's no need for that," I replied quickly. "I prefer the solitude. Being away from prying eyes and ears suits me." The mere thought of being surrounded by so many others sent a shiver down my spine, a sentiment echoed by my Fey nature. Lord Cheshire's ears twitched, catching my discomfort.
"Don't fret, child. That feeling will soon pass; it's a phase all Fey experience. But now, how about some tea?" he proposed cheerfully. At his words, the pixie darted through the doorway, busying herself with her task. I knew exactly what she sought. Approaching the archway leading to the empty room, I brushed my hand against it, and magically, a kitchen materialized.
Stepping inside, it wasn't long before I was greeted by a familiar face. "Good afternoon, Master. Do you need anything specific?" Lemy inquired.
"We have a guest, and some tea would be lovely," I said. "There's also an extra pair of wings to assist. Please put her to work; Lord Cheshire isn't one to be kept waiting." With those instructions, I returned through the doorway.
Father's tail twitched with impatience as the pixie buzzed about. Catching his mood, I snapped my fingers, and the pixie promptly focused. I pointed towards the kitchen doorway, and she zipped through with a relieved sigh.
"Tea will be ready soon. Let's sit," I suggested.
Father followed me into the kitchen, his eyes roaming curiously over the space. "This is quite a tiny, small, diminutive place," he purred, an edge of appreciation in his voice. "We often use such spaces, but seldom, rarely, infrequently with such efficacy."
"It was a lot to take in at first," I admitted. "Being thrown into a new world with a new home and a new body, my first night here was certainly unique."
"I can only imagine. Your entire story is quite extraordinary, remarkable, fascinating!" Lord Cheshire remarked with genuine interest. Then, switching topics, he added, "Now, what did the Hag, the Witch, the Enchantress share with you? What insights did she share?"
His casual tone didn't deceive me. Lord Cheshire, my father, held a position of power in the cutthroat Fey courts. Our family was known for handling difficult situations, much like the Rabbits of the Summer Court. His earlier mention of my mother, my adopted mother, the Goddess, still played in my mind. He was obviously trying to learn more about me, probably one of his reasons for adopting me in the first place.
"Hmm, she did have a few things to share, some pretty unconventional methods too. By the way, did you know she'd try to kill me?" I asked, half expecting he already knew.
"She couldn't harm you, not really. Your Fey nature wouldn't permit such a thing," he replied nonchalantly. Shortly after, two pixies arrived, each carrying a cup of tea, their small forms displaying surprising strength.
His response made me ponder. Was he counting on my Fey nature to intervene, or was it just a safety measure? "Seems like a risky gamble, relying on that," I remarked.
Father simply shrugged, sipping his tea. Lemy hovered behind me, while Lord Cheshire's pixie lingered behind him.
"I think we should continue this discussion privately. You're dismissed," he announced, prompting his pixie to flutter out the window. Lemy, however, stayed put. I noticed Father's eyes narrow at her apparent defiance.
"With all due respect, Lordship, I serve Lady Alex Cheshire directly, as she has named me," Lemy declared, her tone firm. Then, with a burst of enthusiasm, she added, "I am Lemy!"
Lord Cheshire's eyes flicked between her and me, his expression contemplative. The temperature in the room seemed to drop, and my Fey instincts were instantly on high alert. "Lemy, could you please give us a moment? I need to speak with my father privately," I requested gently.
"Of course, Master," Lemy acknowledging my request, disappeared out the window.
Father remained still, his intense gaze fixed on me. The weight of naming someone, a concept still somewhat foreign to me, seemed to hold more significance in this realm than I had realized.
Father's claws were tapping on the table, a subtle signal of his impatience. I couldn't help but smile. Both my Fey Nature and I, on high alert in this tense atmosphere, felt an odd sense of excitement. What was wrong with me?
Suddenly, Lord Cheshire burst into laughter. "My dear Child, you're so full of surprises. You just fall, bumble, stumble your way into these unique predicaments. Yes, we have much to discuss. Time is short, so let me be quick."
"Giving someone a name means bestowing upon them a piece of power, a fragment of yourself. It's incredibly dangerous because they can wield that piece in many different ways. For instance, it can be used to attack you. You can't defend against your own magic; it's a part of you, an inherent aspect of your being. So, only give it to those you truly trust. Ambitious Fey, of course, use this to empower those below them, as it also allows them to wield the giver's power."
He paused to take another sip of tea. "By naming that little pixie, you've granted her more power than she should rightfully have. She's bound by the agreement that comes with this power, and you can revoke it. But be cautious about breaking your word, or you might find the power gone permanently."
"Is that similar to our contract?" I inquired directly.
He moved his head in a thoughtful manner. "Not exactly. When I adopted you, you received the Cheshire crest. As long as you live, you are Cheshire. Family, as I declared at the adoption. It's a binding resolution, agreement, contract. Be very careful with whom you name and ensure your agreements are solid. Your actions now directly reflect on the House of Cheshire."
Well, that was a bit worrying. Thirteen named gnomes with a hint of bloodlust running around, and now the thought they could turn my own power against me was unsettling. I'd seen how those guys acted; being on their hit list wasn't appealing. "I'll be more careful," I said, taking note of the new information.
Father shook his head, returning to his previous inquiry. "Good. Now, what did the Hag tell you?" he pressed. That was the second time he asked. A third would compel a response from me.
"I'm something called a Moon Fey," I revealed.
Lord Cheshire stroked his chin thoughtfully. "Moon Fey, you say? Intriguing. They've been absent from the courts for ages, banished for sharing wild magic with other races. They're known for their prowess in illusions, enchantments, and the occasional conjuring of minor elementals."
"That aligns with what she told me. She tried showing me illusions, but it turned into someone chasing me around instead," I said, taking a sip of the mint-flavored tea. Lemy always got it just right.
"Ah, yes, that chase was my suggestion. How did you fare?" he inquired, a hint of curiosity in his tone.
I paused, feeling a surge of annoyance. "I pushed him off the treetop," I admitted, half-wishing I could do the same to Father at that moment.
Lord Cheshire chuckled. "Not exactly the lesson intended, but effective nonetheless. They obviously didn't catch, snag, nab you. Who did she send after you?"
"A masked man with bird-like feet," I began, my mind briefly flashing to Adrian's appearance. "He had sharp teeth. Chased me to the platform's edge, so I blinded him." Finishing my tea, I regretted its end.
Lord Cheshire's laughter filled the room. "A miscalculation on my part, indeed. An oversight in my arrangement with her. But it seems you've prevailed, at least for now."
His expression subtly shifted, the joviality waning to reveal a more solemn, grave demeanor. "We are so short on time now. Now, about your mother," he said, his gaze piercing as he looked directly into my eyes. "I need to know about her, Alex. It's my duty, my responsibility, to prepare you for what's coming. A storm, the likes of which we haven't seen in centuries, is brewing. The Summer Court may seem genteel, but remember, they are still very much Fey."
"Really, Father? Resorting to a paternal sense of duty to try and compel a deal?" I retorted, my guard up. "I've already told you, the price for that information would be steep." His eagerness to know about the Goddess, enough to even adopt me, raised red flags in my mind.
"Alex, I need insight, information, knowledge," he implored earnestly. "It's crucial, vital, imperative for what lies ahead. The very court of Winter is at stake, and I need to wield every asset available. I assure you, my current intentions are purely for the sake of Winter." His words, binding him, conveyed the seriousness of his intent.
That declaration put me in an awkward position. His word, given in this manner, meant he had to be truthful; otherwise, he risked losing a part of his power.
Sensing my Fey nature's urgency, I closed my eyes, allowing it to come forward. "For the sake of Winter? I do believe you, Father. Everything you do is always for Winter's cause. As a Cheshire, I am willing to offer my assistance, of course. I'll share what abilities I can, but my origins, those I'll keep to myself for now." My signature grin spread across my face. "But Father, when making a deal with a Fey, don't you usually present your offer first?"
Lord Cheshire's face remained unreadable as he considered my words. "I've explained what's at stake. I thought that would be enough to persuade you. The welfare of Winter is a goal, an objective, a mission we should all share."
Leaning forward, elbows on the table, my Fey nature took the lead. "What's best for Winter isn't always in the best interest of Alex Cheshire. That's a lesson I've learned quite sharply, keenly, acutely."
Lord Cheshire sighed, a rare hint of vulnerability in his demeanor. "There was a time I would've considered punishing you for such words. I must be growing soft, lenient, tolerant. Alright, Child, I can't deny your point. At the moment, I don't have much to offer. I've provided everything a father should to further your goals. However, what I can offer is a promise, a debt owed – a most precious commodity among the Fey."
"Can I decide when this promise is to be fulfilled? Ask for anything I want?" I sought clarification, recognizing the significance of his offer.
"Yes, anything, as long as it doesn't force me to break my existing contracts or Oaths," he affirmed. "Alex, my need to know is dire. You may not understand now, and that's for the best. Consider it not just as a Lord of Winter, but as a father's prerogative. I'm trying to protect you, even if the reasons aren't clear yet."
I had an inkling of his urgency. He didn't know that I was already aware of the speculation among the upper Fey about me being a potential King's candidate, like Adrian, poised to rule all Fey.
To my surprise, I realized Lord Cheshire did have a paternal side, albeit a rather unorthodox one. It was his way of preparing me for the world, as he had promised.
My Fey Nature immediately pondered how to leverage this situation. He was trapped between his obligation to me and his duties to Winter – an ideal moment to advance my position. Yet, hadn't he been supportive all along, never turning me away when I asked for help? Sure, he kept secrets, but that was in his nature, as instinctive as a cat's urge to hunt.
Internally, my Fey Nature and my human side battled for what felt like an eternity. Eventually, my human side prevailed. "Father, we have a deal, with the condition that you keep this agreement confidential. You must not share it with anyone or let anyone suspect you're in the know."
His ears perked up, and in his eyes, I saw a flicker of something unexpected – hope? "That is acceptable," he agreed.
I nodded and stood up, walking towards the window. The sun was still setting, casting a golden hue over the scene. "Father, what can you tell me about the Gods of the Fey?"