Chapter 46.75 - A Hero Comes Home

A "Once Upon a Time" Short

.

Abandoned.

She'd abandoned him. How could she? She'd left him in this... this cage! With three wild animals who seemed intent on shredding him to little bits. Or at least engaging in childish antics whose sole purpose, it seemed to him, was to drive him mad. Did they have to shriek like that when there was absolutely nothing wrong?

Nuada glared at the den door as something heavy smashed into it with a resounding thump. What were they doing out there?

He was an Elven warrior and prince. He'd fought in countless battles, against seemingly impossible odds. He'd survived several close encounters with death. Since reaching full maturity, he had never been defeated in a fight. He was Crown Prince Nuada Silverlance, son of King Balor, heir to the Golden Throne of Bethmoora. He was not afraid of two cougar cubs.

Something else thumped against the door. Nuada scowled and went back to tinkering with the goblin clockwork chess set he'd purchased the day before. Let Tsu's'di take care of... whatever was going on out there. He had more important things to worry about. Politics. The Golden Army, and the third piece of the Crown. His father. The impossible mortal woman who had managed to carve herself a place in his heart. He couldn't be bothered with two rambunctious children who lacked any sort of discipline. Once they settled down, perhaps he'd grace them with his presence. After all, A'du'la'di practically worshipped the ground the Elf prince walked on.

The sound of shattering glass echoed from down the corridor, followed by a duet of cat-like shrieks. From Dylan's room. Nuada was on his feet, out the door, and striding down the hall towards Dylan's bedchamber with his hand on his sword hilt in less than a heartbeat. Tsu's'di and Becan met him at the wide-open door to Dylan's bedroom.

Inside the room, two ewah cubs stared in horror at the mess of broken glass, porcelain, and silver lying on the floor in a puddle of sparkling liquid at the foot of Dylan's dresser.

"Oh, dear," Becan muttered. Sighed. He had been in the middle of tending his lady's garden. He had to get back out there soon and de-snow the elder trees, or they wouldn't serve their proper purpose of putting off malevolent faeries. But first the brownie surveyed the damage.

One of Lady Dylan's snowglobes - shattered. The glitter-filled fluid that had been inside the glass globe now spread in a widening pool across the carpet like transparent blood. The porcelain figurines in the globe now lay on the floor in jagged pieces. Wintry sunlight from the bedroom window glinted off the pieces of broken glass from the globe itself. Amber blood made a tiny stripe across one of the bits of glass. Bat sniffed tentatively at the sparkling liquid on the floor, but didn't attempt to touch it.

Becan glanced at the clock hung up in his mistress's bathroom. She would be home from church in less than half an hour. What could be done about this in less than half an hour? The Wee Fae looked up at the prince, whose firegold eyes were fixed on the two children clinging to each other beside the mess.

"Who did this?" The crown prince demanded. 'Sa'ti and A'du turned petrified gazes on the Elven warrior. "Answer me."

"Um," 'Sa'ti whispered. "Um... well... I... we were just..."

"It was an accident," A'du said in a pleading voice. "We didn't mean to. It was an accident."

Nuada folded his arms across his chest. "That is not what I asked. Who did this? Who broke the snowglobe?" The prince noted with approval the way A'du shifted to stand in front of his little sister. "Was it both of you, or just one? Answer me."

A'du swallowed hard and bowed his head. His ears flattened out to the side and he turned his head to bare his throat in submission. His fur, normally standing up in wild tufts anyway, bristled fiercely in agitation and fear. "I did, Your Highness. M'sorry."

"Should you have been in Lady Dylan's room?"

"She didn't say we couldn't," A'du whispered. He squeezed his eyes shut super hard because he knew any second he was gonna start crying like a big baby and then the prince would be even more upset with him than he was already.

"Did she give you her express permission to be in here?" Nuada's voice was a whipcrack demand. A'du'la'di shook his head dejectedly. "Both of you, go out into the front room and wait there. Lady Dylan will be home very soon. She will decide what is to be done with you. Move." The Elf prince stepped aside as both children trudged past him to go off down the corridor towards the living room. Then Nuada turned to Becan. "How upset is she going to be about this?"

The brownie sighed. "Milady's snow- and waterglobes mean much to her because of what they represent. If it were anything else, I would say she would not care overmuch, but... Master John bought all of these for her but one. They are very special to her. She will probably be upset."

From the hallway, A'du hunched his shoulders. Oh, no. Oh, no, no, no. The a'ge'lv was going to be upset with him because he'd broken her snowglobe. He hadn't meant to!

He'd been chasing 'Sa'ti and playing stalk-and-pounce because Tsu's'di said they were underfoot and to get out of the living room, where the older cougar-shifter was practicing a move the prince had shown him earlier that morning. 'Sa'ti had been hiding in the a'ge'lv's room. It had seemed like a great hiding spot, but A'du had found her because there weren't a lot of places in the cottage they could hide (they weren't supposed to go into the den when the prince was in there and A'ge'lv Dylan had said not to go into the one room at the very back of the cottage). Once he'd found his little sister, he'd pounced on her, and they'd been tussling and rolling around, practicing.

Then he'd jumped off 'Sa'ti with his fur out, hissing and snarling. Just playing. And he'd accidentally smacked into the dresser. One of the snowglobes had toppled off the dresser and cracked on the half-closed middle drawer. When it hit the floor it had exploded into jagged glass, sparkly stuff, and broken bits. He'd tried to catch it before it fell. He'd been too slow. That's how he'd cut himself on a piece of glass. Thinking about it, A'du'la'di brought his palm to his mouth and licked the golden blood away. After a few licks the cut felt a little better.

He didn't feel better, though. The snowglobe was a present from Master John, whoever that was. Someone important, if Becan called him "master." A human. With a name like John, it had to be a human. The a'ge'lv's friend? Maybe a brother or her father maybe?

Oh, no. He'd broken a special present from his new mistress's family and he'd only been here a night and a day. She was going to be so angry when she came back. Would she kick him back out onto the street? Would she kick out Tsu's'di and 'Sa'ti too? What if his brother and sister lost their new jobs as a guard and handmaiden because he'd been stupid and hadn't been paying attention and broken A'ge'lv Dylan's snowglobe? Nobody kept servants who broke stuff! Why would they?

And the prince was already mad at him, too. A'du felt his heart sink even further into his stomach at the thought. Prince Nuada probably thought he was a stupid clumsy moron for breaking the a'ge'lv's special present. The prince had probably never broken anything of hers. Why couldn't A'du be more like the Silver Lance?

He hadn't meant to break it! It was an accident! But that didn't matter, because it was special and just because he hadn't meant to break it didn't mean it wasn't still broken.

'Sa'ti climbed into the armchair in front of the fireplace and curled up into a ball. A'du looked at her for a long moment. It wasn't her fault he'd accidentally broken the snowglobe. She shouldn't get into trouble. And Tsu's'di... he shouldn't get into trouble either. It wasn't fair. If they got in trouble because of him, they'd lose their new jobs. They wouldn't have a nice place to live anymore. No more good food, no more nice clothes. No more safe, warm place to sleep. The a'ge'lv wouldn't read bedtime stories to them anymore, either. Unless... unless...

A'du looked at the front door. His new coat - and wasn't that amazing? His new mistress and the prince had bought him a brand new coat, warmer than anything - hung by the door where he could reach it. Then the little cougar shifter looked at his sister. Tears were silently rolling down her cheeks and wetting the thin, soft fur on her face. A'du'la'di went over and gave her a hug.

"We're gonna get in big trouble," 'Sa'ti whispered. "She's gonna hate us."

"No, she won't," the boy murmured to his little sister. He rubbed his cheek against the top of her head and offered her a little rumbling purr. "It'll be okay. I'll fix it."

"How?"

"Trust me." Yeah. He'd fix it. If he left, since he was the one who'd broken the snowglobe, then maybe A'ge'lv Dylan wouldn't be so mad, and she'd let 'Sa'ti and Tsu's'di stay with her still. And if not, at least then his older brother wouldn't have to worry about taking care of them all again. A'du was young, but he saw how hard Tsu's'di worked to make sure he and 'Sa'ti were taken care of, especially in winter.

A'du glanced at the front door. Becan had left it unlocked because he'd been outside working in the garden. The ewah boy went to the door, put on his coat, and walked out of the cottage.

When he'd closed the door, gotten all the way across the garden to the front gate, and gotten past the front gate to the Park itself, he looked back. For just a second he looked at all the sparkling lights, the pretty curtains, the smoking chimneys and the winter flowers in the garden. He thought about last night - a good dinner, chocolate chunk cookies and yummy hot chocolate. A warm bed and his mistress reading him and his siblings a bedtime story with her kind voice. A'du's bottom lip started to quiver. Tears burned his eyes. He scrubbed a hand across his face before stuffing both hands into his coat pockets and trudging off into the woods.

.

Dylan came in out of the cold, swiping at the snowflakes still clinging to her hair, and shut the door behind her. She shrugged out of her coat and hung it up. Paused. There was something odd about the coat hooks by the door. Something that had a whisper of warning shivering down her spine. Something...

A rustling sound distracted her, and she turned to see 'Sa'ti slowly approach, looking absolutely miserable. Concern flooded the mortal and she dropped down to one knee in front of the child. "What's wrong, 'Sa'ti? What's the matter?"

"M'sorry, A'ge'lv," the little girl whimpered, and burst into tears. "M'sorry, m'sorry, we didn't mean to-"

Without hesitation, Dylan gathered the little girl into her arms and hugged her. "It's all right, sweetie. Whatever it is, it's all right. I'm sure you're sorry. It's okay. Calm down. Calm down, now, okay? Just breathe. It's all right. There, now." It took a lot of skill and effort to get back on her feet - the cold was not happy with her bad knee, and her bad knee was not happy with the cold - but somehow she managed it, even holding the ewah child. 'Sa'ti automatically slid her arms around Dylan's neck and sobbed into her shoulder. The older woman rubbed the little girl's back and murmured soothing noises.

Blue eyes flicked to the hallway that led to her room and the rest of the cottage as Nuada stepped out of the den and frowned. She gave him a what the heck is going on? look. The Elf prince seemed just as taken aback by the little girl's sobs as Dylan. Then Tsu's'di and Becan came out of what Dylan realized was her room and saw the child clinging to the mortal woman as if her life depended on it.

"What's going on?" Dylan asked Nuada in a voice soft enough the child couldn't understand her over her tears. "Why is she crying?"

"She and A'du'la'di have something they wish to tell you," Nuada said, though he looked uncomfortable at the sight of so much adolescent despair.

"Well, where's A'du? I'm not going to get anything out of 'Sa'ti for a while; she's too upset."

Nuada opened his mouth, closed it, and looked in the living room. Frowned. "He was supposed to be waiting in the living room with his sister. I do not know where he could be hiding, but no doubt Becan can find him." Irritated firegold eyes slashed to the brownie. Becan closed his eyes, frowned, and opened them again. "Well?"

"He... he is not in the cottage, Sire, milady," the brownie said softly. He shrugged a bit helplessly. "I do not know where he is."

"What?"

"Hang on a sec," Dylan said sharply, getting everyone's attention. She shifted 'Sa'ti, who clung like a desperate leech, until she could look in the little girl's cat-slitted eyes. "Listen to me, 'Sa'ti. Listen to me." The child sniffled and swiped at her face with one hand. Her fur stood out in wet spiky tufts. "Listen. I know you're sorry. I know. But I need you to tell me what happened. Do you know where A'du'la'di went?"

The ewah girl sniffled some more and swiped ineffectually at her ears for a moment. Dylan recognized the move as composure grooming. A lot of cats, both domestic and large, did that when unsettled or upset. Then 'Sa'ti shook her head. "He just took his coat and left."

"He left," Dylan repeated through numb lips. "Why would he leave?" 'Sa'ti shrugged, not meeting Dylan's eyes. Dylan carefully grasped the little girl's chin and forced her to look right into silver-washed blue eyes. Gently but firmly, she said, "Why would A'du'la'di leave? You can tell me. I won't promise not to be angry, but you don't have to be scared of me being angry, okay? No one is going to hurt you or A'du or Tsu's'di. Not me, not the prince. Now I need you to tell me why he left."

"He... he thought you were going to kick us out."

Tsu's'di made a strangled sound, like someone had briefly stepped on his tail. "What? Why would he think that?"

"Because they were in trouble," Nuada said softly. 'Sa'ti shot him a petrified look, then nodded mutely. The prince made a sound of disbelief. "He thought the lady would be that upset over a broken snowglobe?"

Dylan jolted. "You guys broke one of my snowglobes?"

'Sa'ti cringed in the mortal's arms. "M'sorry!"

"Were either of you hurt?" Dylan demanded, scanning what she could see of the child. Nuada forced back the soft half-smile that wanted to curve his mouth. Becan had been so sure that his mistress would be upset over the broken glass globe, but instead her first thought was to ensure that the children were safe. Dylan added, "There must've been broken glass; did either of you get cut? Are you okay?"

"I... yeah. No. A'du cut himself trying to catch it."

"Oh, my gosh," the human muttered, pushing at a stray lock of hair. "Oh, gosh. Great. So he's out who knows where, hurt, and it'll be dark in a little less than two hours. And it's been snowing. Ah, shoot. What am I gonna do with you guys?" Dylan chewed on her bottom lip for a moment before locking eyes with Nuada.

The prince studied her for a long moment. He knew what she wanted - for him to find the boy. If anyone could do that, he could. That was no doubt his mortal lady's thought process. And the boy needed to be found. If he'd been older, Nuada would not have bothered. Who bothered about servants who ran away?

But A'du'la'di was just a boy. And no doubt there was a little more to this running business than 'Sa'ti knew or understood. A'du had grown up on the streets of Brooklyn's Troll Market. He knew better than to run unless absolutely necessary, which meant he'd thought it necessary. And he wouldn't have just left without his brother and sister. Not without a reason.

Nuada inclined his head to Dylan and went to get his coat. It was positively frigid outside. And judging from the ache in his arm, it would begin snowing again fairly soon. Hopefully he didn't get caught out in a blizzard. It was late November in New York City.

Back at the door, the Elf prince paused to glance at his lady. She and 'Sa'ti were both watching him with dark eyes. Nuada looked at 'Sa'ti for a long moment before reaching out and resting his gloved hand on top of that long tawny fur. Striving to make his voice as gentle as possible, he said, "Do not fear. I will bring your brother back."

"Is he gonna be in trouble?" 'Sa'ti quavered.

"I do not know yet," the prince said softly. "It will depend on what he has to say for himself. Stay with Lady Dylan and behave, understand?"

"Yes, Your Highness."

Just before he stepped outside, Dylan touched his arm. Nuada glanced back at her. The message in the look she gave him was as audible as a spoken request: be gentle with him. He inclined his head in a regal gesture and Dylan gave him another look, this one as soft and sweet as a caress. For a moment, Nuada couldn't quite remember how to breathe. Then his lady stepped back. The Elven warrior walked out into the biting winter cold.

.

A'du'la'di shivered on the swing and kicked at the snow with his boots. His hand had stopped hurting awhile ago because of the cold. His ears were almost numb. He'd meant to go back to the old nest in one of the alleys of the Troll Market, but he didn't remember the way back from the cottage. So he'd wondered the Park instead. Now it was getting dark and he was really cold and he didn't know how to get back to the cottage either - not that he dared go back there. If he wasn't busted for breaking the snowglobe, he was definitely busted for running away and not facing his punishment.

I miss the a'ge'lv already, A'du thought. If he knew A'ge'lv Dylan, she was already making dinner. Or Becan was. And then there'd be something delicious for dessert. Cake or pie or more chocolate chunk cookies. She really liked chocolate chunk cookies. So did he. He wasn't going to get anymore, though. That was okay, as long as 'Sa'ti and Tsu's'di got to have cookies. As long as they got to stay at the cottage.

The boy sniffled and scrubbed at the tears trying to roll down his cheeks. It had been an accident, just a stupid accident. But nobles didn't care about whether it was on purpose or not. A'ge'lv Dylan would be really mad. Was already probably really mad. And she'd never let him stay now. Becan had said she'd be upset. She'd never let him come back after upsetting her. She was a noble, the prince's lady, and he was just a stupid street kid.

The tears wouldn't stop. And now there was a sob trying to rise up in his throat and make him cry like a wimp. He wasn't going to cry. Crying was for wimps and babies. He was too big to be crying just because he didn't have a nice home anymore. He'd only had it for one night anyway.

"I am torn between a desire to yank you over my knee like a badly behaved child or thrash you like the brave, honorable boy you proved yourself to be yesterday."

A'du froze, eyes wide. He didn't dare look up. Not if the anger in the prince's voice was anything to go by. If he looked up, the prince might thrash him for... for running away or breaking the lady's special gift or disobeying orders or something. Or even worse, Prince Nuada might yank the ewah boy over his knee and spank him like a baby.

"Look up," Nuada commanded. Slowly, the ewah child obeyed.

The prince's eyes were like a pair of glittering topaz in the dim light. His face could have been carved from bone-white marble. A'du hunched his shoulders at the anger in the Silver Lance's gaze. Oh, yeah. He was busted. He was so totally busted. But... but... he'd left, hadn't he? He'd just saved his new - no, his former - mistress the trouble of kicking him out herself. And since he'd accepted the inevitable punishment for what he'd done, 'Sa'ti and Tsu's'di would be allowed to stay with the prince and his lady. So why was the prince here?

Golden eyes studied the child hunched on the swing. Nuada had expected rebellious anger, defiance. He'd been prepared for that. Instead, A'du'la'di was the picture of absolute misery. Be gentle with him. That had been the message in Dylan's eyes. So Nuada approached the boy slowly, watching as the child tensed with every step. Instead of touching the child, Nuada sank onto the swing beside the one A'du currently occupied. Then the prince said, "It is very cold out here, you know."

"Yes, sir."

"You've been out here a long time."

"Yes, sir."

A long moment of silence. Then, "You scared her."

A'du flinched. His ears flattened sideways and his whiskers drooped. "'Sa'ti?"

"No," although Nuada thought it was very interesting that the other female in the cottage hadn't come to mind. "Lady Dylan." A brief twinge of impatience pricked the Elf prince when the boy's mouth dropped open and he stared at the Elven warrior. What kind of woman did the boy think Dylan was? "She asked me to bring you back."

The ewah child's mouth opened and closed soundlessly a few times. Finally he managed to stutter, "B-b-but I..."

"Why did you run, A'du'la'di?"

He swallowed hard and mumbled, "I thought... if I left, she wouldn't kick out Tsu's'di and 'Sa'ti. I broke the snowglobe. I accidentally hit the dresser and knocked it down. It wasn't 'Sa'ti's fault. I didn't want her or Tsu's'di to get in trouble. They finally have a nice place to live. They f-finally have a h-home and I... I didn't wanna ruin it."

Nuada sighed. Well, he had intended to thrash the boy. Or at least make him run laps around the cottage until his legs would no longer support him. Running away was not acceptable in any circumstance... except when running away would help someone else. A'du'la'di hadn't run away out of fear. Or not fear for himself. He'd done it to protect his siblings in the only way he could think of. He was just a boy, after all. Nuada remembered enough of his childhood to know that children didn't always think in the most logical ways.

"Do you truly think Lady Dylan would do such a thing over something so material and unimportant? Would dismiss you when you've only made a simple mistake?"

A'du shrugged. "She's human. And a noble."

The prince scoffed. "Noble? Humans in this country do not have nobility and aristocracy. Lady Dylan is called 'lady' because she is my truelove and I demand my people show her the proper respect, but she is a commoner, A'du'la'di. It is one of the things I very much like about her. And as for being human..." Nuada met the little boy's eyes and held the child's gaze. "She may be human, but her heart is fey. She loves you, A'du'la'di," the Elven warrior said, catching the boy off-guard. "Do you really think someone who would take you in, feed and clothe you, and even read you a bedtime story, would then throw you out merely for accidentally breaking a trinket?"

Ears and whiskers twitched as the boy thought about what Nuada was saying. He scuffed the snow with his boots. Then he looked up at the prince. "But... Becan said that the snowglobe was special. That she'd be upset it was broken."

"She was more upset that you thought she would throw you out over it. She thought perhaps she'd done something to make you doubt her." Not that Dylan had said such a thing. She hadn't needed to. Nuada could read his mortal lady nearly as well as she could read him. He had seen the uncertainty and self-doubt in those fey-like blue eyes when 'Sa'ti had explained her brother's actions.

"No! She didn't do anything! Your Highness," the boy added belatedly. "A'ge'lv Dylan is really nice. I like her a lot."

"Yet you do not trust her."

A'du'la'di shrugged without looking at the prince. Nuada knew how to deal with silence - treat it with silence in turn. So he simply waited as long as he had to until the boy mumbled, "Can't trust grown-ups. Can't trust anybody really. People lie. They try to trick you and stuff."

"Is that what you think Lady Dylan is doing? Trying to trick you?"

Another shrug. "I dunno. Maybe. She could be. I guess."

"And why would she do such a thing?"

Nuada could tell the boy didn't really believe such a thing of Dylan, but his suspicion was normal for a child who'd grown up on the street. Only the fact that the mortal had saved 'Sa'ti and apparently possessed "good smells" explained why the boy had aligned himself with her to begin with. That and Tsu's'di, who had made the decision for his little family. The child liked Dylan well enough, but liking and trusting were not the same thing. And that nonexistant trust was now being tested.

"I dunno."

The light was fading quickly. Both Nuada and A'du'la'di could see their breath fogging the growing darkness. The boy was shivering now, his hands tucked into his coat to protect them from the cold. The prince reached out and gripped the boy's shoulder. "She loves you, and your brother and sister. She would never harm you. You should trust her."

A'du met Nuada's eyes. "Do you trust her, Your Highness?"

"With my life."

The boy looked down at his boots again, dark against the glittering whiteness of the snow. He sighed and fidgeted on the swing. "I didn't mean to break the snowglobe, Your Highness. Honest."

"I believe you." Nuada got to his feet. "When I asked you why you protected my lady in the Troll Market, you said the honor of the ewah demanded it, because she defended 'Sa'ti against those wolf-shifters. Honor is important to you, yes?" The boy nodded. "When a warrior makes a mistake, honor says he faces up to it. You owe Lady Dylan an apology at the very least. If she decides you are dismissed, then you are. I doubt it will come to that. But running away is not the way to handle this."

"I thought... never mind."

"What you thought was to protect your brother and sister. A warrior defends and protects those he loves. That is honorable, too. Come along now. It's time to go home."

A'du'la'di slowly got to his feet and shoved his hands in his pockets. He looked up at Nuada through his lashes. "Home?" When the prince nodded, the boy relaxed a little. "I didn't mean to scare the a'ge'lv," he said as they began walking along the snow-dusted path towards the cottage. "She didn't... didn't cry or anything, did she?"

Nuada was torn between a desire to say no and spare the boy's feelings, and a desire to fib a little and embellish Dylan's distress in an attempt to hobble any future attempts at running away. But eventually the prince settled for the plain truth. "Lady Dylan is not prone to tears, even when very sad. She doesn't like to cry. But she was very upset that you left. She was worried and sad."

The boy hunched his shoulders. "I'm sorry. I don't want her to be sad."

"You may tell her so when we get home."

They walked in silence for a long while as the night deepened. After a long while, though, A'du asked tentatively, "Did... did you ever run away from home, Your Highness? Or try to sneak out?"

The corner of Nuada's mouth twitched. "I did. Several times. Mostly on those occasions when, as a boy, I thought I was old enough to accompany my father somewhere he did not believe I should be."

"Like where?"

Oh, so much curiosity there. The prince swallowed his amusement at the boy's sudden interest. So many possible answers to that question. The time he'd tried to sneak out and follow his father on a hunting trip with Arawn Death-Lord. The King of Annwn had caught him in the stables. That had been very embarrassing. Or the time he and Nuala had both tried to follow King Balor into the woods when he went to speak with Lady Daphne, who represented the dryad community in Bethmoora's Golden City. Their fat little ponies hadn't been able to keep up with Fintan, Balor's stallion. They'd been caught by a pair of laurel nymphs. Also embarrassing. In fact, most of the times Nuada had tried to sneak out or leave home had resulted in humiliating circumstances.

But he'd only truly run away once, as a boy of approximately nine centuries. He'd needed to speak to his father. Desperately needed to ask him about his mother, and about humans, and why the king still clung to his desire for peace with them even after what they'd done to Cethlenn. The chamberlain had presented his request to the king. For the first time in Nuada's life, the king had refused his only son admittance. Nuada had insisted. The king had refused again.

So he had left. He'd packed a bag, climbed out his window - he'd still been young enough that they'd kept him and Nuala in the nursery wing, which was only on the second floor of the castle - and snuck into the Royal Stables. Then the prince had quietly saddled his horse. Lomán, his slender black colt from Shahbaz, had been small enough and nimble enough for Nuada to guide him out of the castle's stables and out into the surrounding woods without being seen.

The prince had (somewhat pathetically, the Silver Lance thought now) managed to elude his father's guards for nearly two weeks. In the end it was Wink who'd found him camped out beside the site of his mother's death and, after staying with the grieving prince for another few days, brought him home.

His father had still refused to speak to him or see him, other than to deliver a blistering lecture about wasting everyone's time for something juvenile and petty. Once the lecture was delivered to a sullen and hurt Elven princeling, Balor retreated back into the king's suite and said no more on the subject of Nuada's runaway attempt or the queen's death. And Nuada learned that day that when it came to many things, his father was blind and not to be trusted.

"Your Highness?" A'du murmured, breaking through Nuada's thoughts and bringing him back to the present. "Um... you don't have to tell me if you don't want to."

Nuada shook off the memories and kept his stride slow and easy so the boy could keep pace. "I will tell you some other time. For now, you need to think about what you will say to Lady Dylan when we get home."

"Yes, sir."

.

Nuada blinked at the odd warmth curling around his heart when the cottage door swung open and Dylan came out to meet the Elf prince and the ewah boy coming up the garden path. Dylan went to Nuada and laid her hands on his shoulders. She gave him a look that caressed his heart and sent warmth whispering down his spine and stirred a forbidden longing deep within him. Gratitude and a wealth of affection shone in her eyes.

Then she turned her attention to the boy at his side.

A'du'la'di shrank back momentarily. But then a shine of steel came into his eyes and he squared his shoulders, forcing himself to meet her gaze. The ewah boy offered Dylan a deep bow. She inclined her head in the same gesture Nuada often used.

Straightening, A'du said softly, "I'm really sorry, A'ge'lv. For breaking the snowglobe. It was an accident. I'm sorry for running away. It won't happen again. The prince said I scared you; I'm sorry. And... and I'm sorry that I thought you were going to kick me out. Prince Nuada said I should trust you and I'll try to do that. I like you, and you're really nice. So... can I still be your page?"

"Yes," Dylan said, and smiled at him. "Listen to me, A'du'la'di. People are worth more than things. You are worth more than a snowglobe. Okay? I know you didn't do it on purpose. 'Sa'ti told me. If and when something like this happens again, just wait until I come home and we'll talk about it. I'm never going to hurt you for making a mistake. I might punish you depending on the mistake, but it would be something like sending you to bed without dinner or whatever. I'm not going to kick you out onto the street. Okay? You swore service to me. That means I'm supposed to take care of you and you take care of me. We take care of each other. You never need to be worried that you're going to lose your place with me or the prince. We're a team. Do you understand?"

He nodded, then stared hard at the ground, sniffling. Dylan could see just how much effort the child was putting into trying not to cry. Nuada gripped one shoulder, and Dylan laid her hand on Adu's other shoulder, squeezing gently.

"Okay," she said. "Take a minute. Get your composure back. You okay?"

The boy nodded again and scrubbed hard at his face with the back of a fist. When he looked up again, he gave both adults a wobbly smile. "I'm okay."

"Good. Go on inside and give your brother and sister a hug. You kinda scared them a little. Dinner will be ready in a few minutes, okay?" Dylan waited until A'du'la'di was inside before she turned and slid her arms around Nuada's waist, laid her head against his chest. "You found him. Thank you."

"It was child's play to find him," the prince replied with a casual shrug. "He simply needed some time to think." As he had, that long ago time in the woods as a boy. Wink had stayed with him, protected him until he was ready to come home. Until he had the courage to face his father... and face the hard truths the Elven princeling had learned so young.

Dylan asked, "Where was he?"

"The faerie metal playground," Nuada said. "I think he meant to go home and became lost. Are we going to punish him?"

"Do you think we ought to?"

The prince led his lady inside out of the cold and closed the door behind them. He shrugged out of his coat and hung it by the door. "No. His reasoning was faulty, but his heart was in the right place." He glanced down at Dylan, who was shivering slightly in her thin silky blue shirt despite the warmth of the cottage. He frowned. "You're cold." Nuada pulled her into his arms and laid his cheek against her hair. "You should have worn a coat."

"Oh, my gosh, Prince Bossy," she grumbled, but she pressed her forehead into his shoulder and grinned. "It's okay. This is nice. You're really warm."

"Am I?"

Dylan glanced up and arched an eyebrow at the prince's expression of smug, male pride. She scoffed at his masculine satisfaction and put her face back where she could feel his heartbeat under her cheek and the heat of him soaking into her body. She sighed. Everything was okay now. Well, not everything. The political situation was still a nightmare. There were still probably people trying to kill Nuada and, now that she thought about it, her too. But hopefully things with Tsu's'di, A'du, and 'Sa'ti were okay now. And that meant there was one less problem on their plate just then, which was just fine with her.

"I will try to be less intimidating next time," Nuada muttered against her hair. Dylan blinked and made a questioning sound. "A'du'la'di explained on the way home that he thought he was in serious trouble because I 'sounded scary.' Which was not my intention."

"Well, you can be pretty scary even when you're not trying."

"Do I scare you?"

"Pffft. You? Yeah, right. You couldn't scare me if you tried." Blue eyes studied his face for a long moment as scarred lips curved into a warm smile. "You're just a big ol' softie. You're like my teddy bear. I am so not scared of you. Try to be scary; I dare you. Go on."

Nuada arched a brow. "What would you have me do, my lady?"

"I don't know. Growl or something."

Black lips slowly curved upward in a way that made Dylan's knees go weak. "For my lady's pleasure, then." One impossibly strong arm slid to her waist and pulled her hard against him. She let out a breathless squeak. That hadn't been quite what she meant. But then the prince leaned in and growled low in his throat, right against Dylan's ear. His breath was hot against her skin. His arm was hot at her back even through her shirt. "Am I scary now?"

"Um..." She couldn't think. Couldn't focus enough to think about whether she should say yes so he would stop and let her go, or be honest and say no. Did she even want him to stop? He was really warm. And his mouth was so close to her skin. If she turned her head even the tiniest fraction he would end up kissing her. "I... um..."

Nuada leaned back a bit to look into her eyes. Something flickered in the depths of those moonlit blue eyes, something that called to him, pulled at him. Something that made him forget for a moment that there were other people in this cottage. Two children, a youth, and a brownie. They didn't matter anymore. What mattered was that odd emotion in Dylan's gaze. The way she was looking at him. It brought every possessive instinct to the surface, and every feral part of him.

He suddenly had the urge to turn them, just a little, so that Dylan would be trapped between the cold stone door and the hot, solid wall of his chest. He could hold her there and lean in and brush his mouth against her skin. Maybe her temple, or her cheek. The slashing scar he loved to touch. Or maybe her exquisitely soft mouth...

Dylan murmured his name like a soft, sweet caress that shivered over his skin and left his blood sizzling. Maybe it was coming into the warmth out of the cold, or maybe it was the way she'd come out to meet him when he'd returned with the boy. Or perhaps it was the way she'd melted against him. She always did that - just melted into Nuada's arms, as warm and pliant and boneless as a sleepy kitten. Whatever it was, there was a sudden hunger in him, a fire that fed on the way she said his name and the way she looked at him now.

"Am I scary now?" He repeated softly.

She swallowed hard, but managed to smile. "You can't scare me," she whispered. "Nothing you could do would ever scare me. I trust you."

"I know," Nuada murmured. If he leaned in just a little and bent his head, he'd be able to sample the temptation of those soft sweet lips. The Elf prince caught the scent of chocolate and strawberries on her breath as he leaned in. Would she taste like chocolate, like strawberries picked in December's frost? Her skin was satin under his palm when he cupped her cheek.

He was so close. She could taste the heat of him, the fey wildness that clung to him like a scent. His eyes held her like a hawk's. His skin was hot against her cheek despite the chill he'd just walked out of. Dylan could feel the strength of his heartbeat against her body.

"Nuada," Dylan whispered, and his eyes suddenly seemed to burn with gold-kissed fire. "Nuada, I..."

"A'ge'lv!" 'Sa'ti's mournful yowl jerked them apart. "Are you gonna eat dinner?"

Blushing furiously, Dylan flashed the two children a bright smile. "Yeah. We'll be there in a minute. Go back in the kitchen, okay?"

A'du'la'di gave both adults a suspicious look. "What were you guys doing?" Then a look of adolescent disgust crossed his features. "Ew. Were you guys about to kiss or something? Because that's gross. Like, seriously gross. Kissing gives you cooties- ow!" The ewah boy glared at his little sister, who thwacked him in the shoulder again. "What?"

"Kissing does not give you cooties! You're such a boy. Kissing means babies, stupid."

"Hey," Dylan said sharply, ignoring the way Nuada had gone stiff beside her as well as ignoring the almost horrified look on the Elf prince's face. "We do not hit like that except in self-defense, and we do not call names." Both cougar cubs jerked to look at their mistress. Dylan could see A'du realizing that he'd only been home about ten minutes and was already in trouble - again. "Now, apologize to each other."

Under Nuada's stern, firegold eye - and Dylan's icy cobalt stare - the siblings not only apologized, but hugged each other. Their new mistress informed them that no one in this family was planning on getting cooties or having a baby anytime soon. The children went into the kitchen again.

Once the cubs were out of earshot, the Elven warrior turned to his mortal lady and demanded, "What in the world are cooties?" His lady's muffled giggle did not improve his mood.

"Seriously?" She asked when she could talk around the laughter. "You don't know what cooties are?"

Nuada scowled at her.

"Okay, okay. Sorry. It's just that you've been around for a bajillion years. When children talk about cooties, it's just this imaginary 'disease' that you get from someone of the opposite gender. It's also a word for an actual social disease." Dylan grinned when Nuada choked. "Yeah. Exactly." The prince opened his mouth, but she held up a hand, laughing again, and said, "Don't ask, because I don't know. But that's what cooties are. Now, we'd better get into the kitchen before they come out here again looking for us."

The Elf prince inclined his head and watched his lady move to the kitchen. He tried to push aside the frustration. He'd made his decision. One kiss wouldn't hurt either of them. Would it? He was tired of wanting without being able to satisfy that wanting. But he wasn't going to kiss her for the first time in front of witnesses. That moment would be private, just between the two of them. And he would take his time. He would make the moment last, and she would always remember it.

But for now, he would go and have dinner with his lady and her retinue.

.

All three ewah were washed and ready for bed when Dylan and Nuada walked into the room. Nuada took his seat beside the door and Dylan took her seat between the sofa and futon. She made Tsu's'di, A'du, and 'Sa'ti sit on the futon so she could see them and talk to them. Once she had their attention, she leaned forward and propped her elbows on her knees. Silver-washed eyes locked onto eyes of smoky turquoise, sandy bronze, and sky blue.

"I want you all to listen to me, so that what happened today never happens again. There is nothing you three could do that would make me or Prince Nuada send you away, short of breaking the oaths of service you've sworn - and that would have to be a serious betrayal, like you betrayed us to our deaths or something. If we believed you capable of that, we wouldn't have chosen you in the first place. There is nothing any of you could ever do that will make us cut you off. Understand? This place is your home now if that's what you want. The six of us - you three, Becan, the prince, and I - we're a team. We take care of each other. Nothing anyone can do will ever change that, unless you three decide that you want to leave. And just because one of you decides to leave doesn't mean you all have to leave."

"We don't want to leave, A'ge'lv," Tsu's'di murmured softly. "You've given us a home. A safe place to live. You and the prince have been kind to us. We will stay."

"Yeah," A'du said. "We're staying. If that's okay."

'Sa'ti simply nodded.

"It's okay," Dylan replied. "It's just fine, actually. Just stay out of my room from now on, okay? All the breakable stuff is in there." After getting their solemn oath not to go into their mistress's room, the mortal added, "Okay, so... do we want another story tonight? Because I've got a good one if you want to hear it."

The children prompted their mistress to get the story, which was called The Wonderful Wizard of Ha's. It was about a little boy named Darby O'Gill (which, for some reason that Dylan couldn't fathom, made Nuada snort) who ran away from his father's farm to goof off at an amusement park called the Marvelous Land of Ha's. Of course, being a child, Darby didn't have a lot of money to pay for this trip, so he took the money his father had been saving up to send the boy to college and spent it on silly fun stuff instead of saving it like he should have. Only after the fun was over did Darby realize that he'd spent all the money his father had saved up over years and years in a single afternoon.

At this point in the story, 'Sa'ti and A'du winced and the little boy muttered, "Busted."

"Is his father going to let him come home, though?" 'Sa'ti asked in a sleepy whisper. "Or is he going to get in trouble for being bad?"

Out of the corner of Dylan's eye, she noticed Nuada stiffen in his chair. She glanced at him questioningly. The Elf prince shook his head and gestured for her to continue the story.

"After Darby made it home to his father's farm, he started thinking about how angry his father was going to be about what he'd done, and how disobedient he'd been. Maybe his father would be so angry, Darby wouldn't be allowed back on the farm. Maybe his father wouldn't love him anymore."

Even though she was focusing on the children as they slowly drifted off (even Tsu's'di, who was exhausted from working on the handful of defensive moves the prince had shown him earlier that morning), Dylan saw the way Nuada's hands clenched around the arms of the chair. She kept her frown inside and kept reading about how the boy in the story planned to go to his father and ask for forgiveness, only then he realized that his father might not forgive him and he might not be worthy of that forgiveness. So Darby decided he'd ask nothing of his father except, perhaps, a job on the farm so he could pay his father back.

"But when Darby's father saw him coming up the path, Farmer O'Gill didn't stop to think about what Darby had done. Didn't care that his son had made a mistake and disobeyed him. He was just happy that Darby was home safe at last. He went to his son and embraced him, overjoyed at his return." The children were already asleep, all three of them out like lights. But instinct and the soft warmth of the Spirit prompted her to finish the story anyway. "A mother's or father's love for their child is stronger than any force in the world. No matter what that child may or may not have done, a father's love - or a Father's love - will always remain strong. The End."

She closed the book as Nuada got to his feet and walked out the door. Dylan frowned, but took a moment to kiss 'Sa'ti and A'du's foreheads. Like the night previous, both ewah cubs began to purr in their sleep. She glanced at Tsu's'di, who sighed in sleep and rolled over. She'd never seen the youth asleep before. He looked so much younger when he was asleep. It tugged at her heart strings more than a little. He was too young to have so much responsibility on his shoulders.

But she couldn't afford to worry about the children right now when there wasn't an immediate problem. She needed to go check on Nuada.

.

The Elf prince leaned hard against the kitchen counter. His grip was so tight his fingers ached. It was ridiculous to be so upset - to be upset at all - over a simple human children's story. It was just a story. So why did it feel as if his blood had turned to ice and a taloned hand was squeezing his heart? As if someone had kicked him hard in the belly before ripping out his guts?

A father's love. He wanted to laugh, even though there was nothing humorous about it. A story that Dylan had meant to show the children that no matter what, they could always call this place home, could always come to the prince or his lady if they needed to... and it had somehow turned into a mocking reminder of his father, of his exile, of everything he did not wish to think about.

Forgiveness? Welcoming back with open arms? Foolishness. A child's daydreams. He had come back, to Renvyle and to the Golden City and to Findias over the centuries to visit his sister and - when the king would deign to see him - his father. There had been no welcome for him there. There had been no forgiveness. And forgiveness for what? He had done nothing that needed forgiving! He had simply refused to forget the horror of seeing his people slaughtered, the land raped, the world destroyed by fire and machines and human vermin. Why did that require forgiveness?

It was a sweet enough story for little children (he supposed), but it did them no good to sugar-coat the world that way. None at all. They had to learn eventually that no matter how deep the professions of love, eventually something would come along that a loved one could not - or would not - forgive. There was always something that kept them from coming home. Perhaps, if the children were very lucky, they would never have to choose between breaking their honor and breaking their own hearts by refusing to sin by asking for that impossible forgiveness.

Even Dylan. Nuada realized with a pain that was almost savage that there were things - had to be things - that even Dylan could not forgive. Like what he meant to do with the Golden Army. What he meant to do to her race in order to preserve his own, and the countless others he was responsible for. When that happened... when the war against humanity began and she saw what he would do to win it... would she forgive him the slaughter? Would she still care for him?

He didn't know. He doubted it. Even his lady had her limits. Just as his father and sister did.

"Hey," a soft voice called from the kitchen entryway.

Nuada fought the urge to flinch.

"Hey. Cad atá cearr?" Gentle hands laid against his back and he shuddered. He just wanted to pull her to him and cling to her, shield himself... but that was the coward's way. "Nuada? What's the matter?" Dylan tugged lightly on his arm and finally got him to turn to face her. Silver-swept blue eyes widened when she realized that something glittered wetly on the Elven warrior's cheek. "Hey, whoa." She carefully brushed the tear away. "Cad atá cearr?"

"I... I..." The Elf swallowed hard and looked away. "Nothing."

She turned his face so that he was forced to look at her. "Don't shut me out. You're upset. Why?"

Through gritted teeth, he said, "That story is... foolishness. You should not teach them such things."

"You're upset about the story?"

"I am not upset," Nuada snapped. Furious. Frustrated. Bitter. But not upset. "About anything. But the sentiment is foolish nonsense and you do the children a disservice by teaching them that such concepts are true." When Dylan frowned at him, obviously confused, he added, "A parent's love for their child is a bond as breakable as any other."

Dylan reached up and lightly brushed the tips of her fingers against the whorl at his temple. There was such compassion in her eyes. Such understanding. "Nuada. Your father loves you."

"You have no idea what you're talking about."

"Fine," she snapped. Folded her arms across her chest. "Fine. So let's play along with your theory, then. Your father doesn't love you." She didn't miss the flicker of pain in his eyes. "And your sister... I'm not even gonna go there. But so what?" Firegold eyes went wide at the demand. "So what? Forget them. Wink loves you. You think I can't see how much you mean to him? And the children love you. Tsu's'di has been working all day to get right the things you showed him this morning. A'du worships the ground you walk on. 'Sa'ti probably wants to marry you when she grows up. And-"

Nuada protested, "Dylan, that does not-"

"And I love you," she snapped again, silencing him. "I love you. We're friends; we're a team. I care about you, Nuada. Doesn't that mean anything to you? So your father is an idiot and doesn't see that you're worth the world a million times over. So your sister is blinded by her own... I don't even know what to call it and I don't care. They don't see you or know you, so screw them. And I know that's not easy but you have to try. You can't let them make you doubt or question yourself. And you can't let them hurt you like this.

"And that story... it doesn't have to be about you and your father. It can be about you and your mother, or you and Wink, or even... even you and me. I've told you you're always welcome here, Nuada. You always have a home here with me. You can always come back here. I've told you, if all the world turned against you, I would still be here."

"Why?" He demanded, trying to push back the frustration. This mortal made no sense at all. He'd thought he'd come to grips with that already but no, he hadn't, he still did not understand why she refused to back down, why she was so willing to give everything for him, to him. It couldn't last, this devotion. "Why do you care so damn much?"

The look she gave him was equal parts hurt and exasperation. "Don't you know?"

He glared at her. "If I knew, I would not be asking."

"I care because you... because..." She shoved at her hair and sighed. "Because somehow you've become someone I can't live without. Because you're the best thing that has ever happened to me. Because everything that has happened to me since I met you has been worth the joy of knowing you. And because..." Dylan swallowed hard. "Okay, promise you won't get mad."

His look spoke volumes. She sighed.

"I tell you I love you. You're my best friend; of course I love you. I've told you that a lot. But you don't believe it, do you? Not really." When he didn't deny it, she smiled a little sadly. "Give me your hand." He obeyed - reluctantly. "You could read my mind and my heart if you wanted. Why don't you?"

His eyes were liquid topaz jewels, coolly expectant. He said nothing.

"I'll tell you why: because you think that will prove you right, that it will prove I don't love you like I say I do. Nuada." His name falling softly from her lips was a gentle reprimand. She laid his hand against her chest, against the spill of white scar over her heart. He could feel her heart beating steadily against his palm. "You are one half of my heart. There is no one in this world I care for more than I care for you, and only one person in this world I care for as much. You and John are my whole world."

The Elven warrior clenched his jaw. She could not say things like this to him. Could not keep his palm pressed against her body so that it was almost as if he held her heart in his hand... the way she held his heart, though she did not - could never - know it. Something shimmered between them, like a sigh on the wind. His heart stumbled and only a hard swallow managed to push it back into its proper rhythm.

"So," Nuada said softly, and gave her a wan smile. Anything to break this sudden awareness, this sudden heightened emotion between them. "If I run off to an amusement park and waste my time and money, breaking your heart along the way, you'll welcome me back with open arms?"

Moonlit blue met sunlit gold. She said, "If you left me, ripping out my heart and shredding it to pieces on your way out, I would still welcome you home with open arms. There is nothing you could do that would make me turn against you, either, Nuada. I may be human, and I know you don't trust humans. I know you think that humans are incapable of real love and loyalty. There's probably no oath that I can give you that will convince you otherwise, and that's okay. But I will promise this - this cottage will always be your home. You and I... we'll always be family... if that's what you want."

"Family."

She shrugged. "Friends are the family you choose for yourself." Scarred lips curved up in a tender smile. Dylan brushed her fingers over the royal scar on one cheek. "I consider you my family. I would do almost anything for you. Don't ever forget that, okay?" Now she stepped back, clearly embarrassed by her candidness. "I should get to bed. I got up early this morning. Good night."

He caught her wrist in a loose grip. Dylan glanced back at him. Their gazes met. Held.

"It is what I want," Nuada said softly. "You offer me two things I have wanted for a very long time - a home and a family. That is what I want." Almost against his will, the Elf prince reached up and cupped Dylan's cheek. "You are my family."

"Tá." Yes.

"And this is my home if I choose it."

She dazzled him with her smile. "Tá."

For a long moment, Nuada couldn't speak. Yet he made his choice, and his lady saw it. Her acceptance was in her eyes. So was the love and affection Nuada still could not quite bring himself to trust in completely. Finally, after a silence that conveyed a thousand things, he asked, "Why are you offering me this?"

"Because you deserve it." And because I love you so very much. Then she added, "Now, I need to go to bed. I have work in the morning. Good night, Nuada."

Nuada slid his grip from Dylan's slender wrist to her fingers and raised her hand to his lips. "Good night, mo duinne." She walked out of the kitchen with a smile and a childlike finger-wave over one shoulder that made the prince smile in turn. He'd walked into the kitchen tied in a thousand knots and now she walked out of it, leaving him calm once more. How did she do it?

And the children. Those children in the other room. He didn't know what to do with them, but they made Dylan happy. And watching her with them filled him with an ache so fierce and sharp he could taste it. Were they part of this little family Dylan spoke of?

Home. Family. Two things he had wanted ever since he'd had to walk away from both, more than two thousand years ago. The Silver Lance had spent those two millennia wandering the world, without a true place to call home. A stranger in the world. And now he'd found what he had once lost. You are one half of my heart. The Elf prince did not appreciate having to share Dylan's heart with her cowardly idiot brother, but holding that much of her heart at all filled him with a swift and deliciously warm satisfaction.

It almost erased the acrid taste of betrayal on the back of his tongue when he thought of his father, and how every time he had ever gone back - to the Golden City in Bethmoora, to Findias, even to Renvyle - his father had not welcomed him home with an embrace and a smile. It had always been with harsh words or snake-like enticements, with anger at his only son's disobedience or bitter disappointment. Harsh accusations that Nuada had no honor, had no loyalty to his people or his kingdom, had no spine. His sister's resignation and disappointment in him had been no balm for those verbal wounds. Dylan's words nearly soothed away that hurt... but not entirely.

Nuada went back to the bedroom - Dylan would be sleeping in that secret little room she'd asked him not to go into - and cracked the door. On the bed, curled up in a fuzzy black ball, was Bat. The kitten yawned, stretched, and patted the pillow with one paw. Nuada snorted and shook his head. "You are a real nuisance. Go bother your mistress. Or 'Sa'ti."

Bat meowed and stretched again.

When the prince stretched out beside the cat on the bed, Bat hopped down and walked out. The prince rolled his eyes and laid his cheek against the pillow. He smelled lilies, night-blooming jasmine, roses and apple blossoms. Four of Dylan's favorite shampoo scents. Those scents smoothed out some of the jagged edges of that bitter hurt and left him calm enough to sleep. And sleep he did, and dreamt of his lady, and of coming home.