[Puck/Meghan Chase] - [Iron Fey] - [The Rogue's Spell]
Title: The Rogue's Spell
Fandom: Iron Fey
Character/Pairing: Puck/Meghan Chase
Prompt List: Wanderlust
Prompt: Hollywood Babylon
Rating: PG13 (it's a club, yo)
Word Count: 3164
Author's Notes: Came out pretty well for a first draft.
Summary: After her escape, Meghan meets an old friend in Detroit.
Puck picked at the seam of one of his shirtsleeves thoughtfully, brushing the few remaining feathers off his clothing in as slow a manner as possible.
He knew that it was infuriating Oberon, knew that half the Seelie Court was milling about him in varied states of distress and that the other half probably was staring at him with glares of disbelief and begrudging admiration for being so flippant with their king. After all, the Summer princess had just flown the coop as it were, and the Erlking had gotten so desperate to get her back that he was willing to free another bird for that purpose.
The only one who seemed pleased with him right now, ironically, was Titania.
"Husband, please." The Queen of Summer purred, still dressed in her Elysium finery and looking every bit the composed and regal mistress of Arcadia. "The half-breed is gone to us and will trouble us no more. Let your enemies think that they have a valuable pawn and then when they make their moves to negotiate for the whelp, we may strike."
Her smile was all strawberries and vanilla, promises of forgiveness and easy peace masking an ugly core.
Puck knew it well enough not to be taken in and he suspected that, somewhere in there, Oberon knew it, too.
"You will find the girl." Oberon repeated solemnly, ignoring that his wife had spoken. Titania, of course, looked furious at this, but chose to bide her time. In Puck's experience, that generally meant that something worse was on the way.
"Well, not to put a damper on anyone's plans," Puck continued his brushing raven feathers off his clothes, even making a show of checking his back for them to get a few laughs from his audience, "but I haven't agreed to anything yet."
The Erlking's impassive mouth thinned into a small line. It was a small gesture, a twitch in the monarch's face, and unless you were looking for it, you would never have noticed it.
Puck, though, had experience in these matters.
"I have been held against my will." He continued, hands held innocently in the air for the court to see. "I have been caged, even! And now my lord Oberon comes to me asking for favors."
He let his voice drop and the room fell silent. No one was asked of favors by their king. There were orders, only orders, not bargains, not favors. Puck was walking a dangerous path, and even though the room hummed with an excited energy from the sidhe around them, Puck could tell by Titania's carnivorous smile that he had erred in his choice of words.
And sure enough, lightning cut through the sky and a rumble of thunder shook the floor around them, nearly catching Puck off balance.
"Servant," Oberon intoned, and in that moment, no one could question that he was the Lord of the Court here. Power radiated off him in electric waves and if the crowd had not already ceased their scrambling and chatter, they would have been silent now. "You do not demand favors of your liege, much less insinuate that you should be granted them after your failures. You will find Meghan Chase and bring her back without harm."
Puck's expression flickered, a flash of anger biting through the jester's mask before he wore his easy smile again. Royalty were always this way.
But Puck had dealt with royalty for a long time.
He moved his hand over his mouth, his index finger tapping his mocking lips as though deep in thought. After a few moments passed when he felt like significant consideration had been done, Puck swept into an elaborate bow.
"Very well, my lord. It shall be as you wish and more." He grinned, then turned and made for the door.
"You seem in high spirits, Goodfellow, for one who has been chastened by his king." Titania, of course. The Summer Queen might recognize that it was useless to stop Oberon's pursuit of Meghan, but she couldn't resist taking a parting shot at the king's prime lackey before he left.
And that was exactly what Puck had counted on.
"Of course," he tipped an imaginary hat at her, glancing back over his shoulder at the unhappy pair of rulers, "I have my freedom, after all."
Which was more than he could say for just about everyone else in that court.
-o-
Blue Chaos brimmed like a lost Babylon, full of humans and faeries alike in their night finery, ducking and gyrating to the heavy bass beat that thumped through the floors. Drinks sparkled through glass in the hands of dancers, winking silvery and icily at her from the dance floor, each glimmer, each sway of someone's hips an invitation...
Meghan Chase swallowed hard and looked away.
It was just glamour. Really, just glamour. She closed her eyes, trying to get her bearings. Ever since finding out that Oberon was her father and that she could control a little bit of faery magic, she'd been able to see more clearly through it, and she knew that now, if she looked back to the crowd, she'd see the club-goers as who they really were, satyrs and phoukas and whatever. But she was still human, and in that first moment of entering a place like this, she still got caught up in it, still felt drawn, as the other humans in the mess of bodies were, to the attraction and the thrill of danger that awaited her if she chose to venture further in and let herself give in to it.
She bit down hard on her lip.
"Humans." Grimalkin rolled his eyes. "Even though you are half-fey you still possess all their failings. How very unfortunate."
Meghan frowned. Alright, fine. So maybe wanting to get up close and personal with a couple of faeries, as Robbie would jokingly say, was the effects of the glamour. She'd never had a boyfriend, gone on a date, and her last brush with an attractive member of the opposite gender had ended with her photoshopped into an embarrassing pose and in tears. But something had still drawn her gaze back to the heaving press of dancers.
Maybe it was the glamour. But a deeper part of her wondered if maybe it wasn't.
She'd never have come to a place like this, not on her own. But now that she was there, Meghan wondered if maybe there wasn't a hidden draw in it after all, this place that had seemed so forbidden, so out of reach until now. There were kids as young as she was out there, grabbing partners whose names Meghan would bet they didn't even know, caught in mad embraces with faeries who grinned like sharks. A disturbing thought hit her, that there was really no difference between them and her at all, except that she knew that was going on and they didn't.
And then a more disturbing thought struck her, occupied her, until the cait sith spoke and Meghan jumped.
"Innocence shattered." Grimalkin commented wryly from his perch her shoulder. "Yes, human, it is fascinating. But really, must we? Come, let's find the trod and be done with it."
Meghan nodded, tearing her eyes away from the scene and forcing herself to focus on Grimalkin's directions as they approached the bar. It must have been the glamour talking. Yeah, that was it. The Meghan that had gone to school, had played video games with her best friend, had taken care of her little brother, and been a dutiful daughter would not think such thoughts.
But then again, a lot of things had changed. Robbie wasn't Robbie, Ethan was kidnapped, her mother had had an affair with a faery king...
Meghan shivered and hesitated before touching her ears, not wanting to know if they were still pointed.
Just how much of the old Meghan was she? How much human in her was left?
She swallowed, hard, and followed the cat.
-o-
"Some questions are better off not being answered." Shard grinned, her teeth gleaming like deadly icicles. "How painfully will you die, my Summer whelp? I don't believe I owe you the courtesy of elaborating. But you better believe me when I say I will enjoy every moment of it."
The troll off to her side roared, its iron shackles searing into its flesh as it shifted position.
"Grumly!" Shard raised her hand, her eyes dark and desolate as coal in winter. "Kill."
But before the troll and the gathered redcaps could make a move, a bird flying as fast as a shadow zipped into the room and exploded in a swirl of feathers between Meghan and her attackers.
"Yup, still got it." Puck smiled roguishly. "I do love a grand entrance, don't you, princess?"
"Robbie!" Meghan cried. Something was different about him, she thought. She was on the verge of saying more, but he just offered her a wink and then leapt off into battle without giving her the chance.
Maybe calling him Robbie had been wrong. Robbie had been the boy who had helped her on her school projects, gotten popcorn tangled in her hair when they watched movies together. This boy, with his infectious smile and just as pervasive laugh, seemed almost a completely different person.
"Puck." She breathed. Grimalkin snorted.
"Please, human, if you'd like to lose your head, by all means stand there and admire Goodfellow's work. I, for one, intend on living." And with that, the cat disappeared, just as a redcap launched itself at Meghan's face.
"Oops, sorry, princess." Puck appeared out of nowhere, still smiling, his clothes slightly torn, but other than than and a slight sheen of sweat glittering on his skin, looking no worse for wear. "Looks like I missed one."
He kicked the redcap at the fuming winter sidhe, then bounded back off into the fray, dodging between the troll's stomping legs. Illusion and glamour swirled around him, only staying in one place long enough for one of the redcaps to come at him and then winking out of sight as Grumly's foot came down hard on his pursuer.
"Shard, it's been a while, huh?" Puck called in between dodges and roars of the furious troll. "I was wondering when I might get to pay your fine establishment another visit."
"I'll have your head mounted on my wall, Goodfellow!" The winter faery growled, aiming her spear at him. "You can pay all the visits you like when you're dead."
"Tsk, some people have no sense of humor." Puck whispered into Meghan's ear for a moment, and then was gone again, dancing around troll legs and redcaps like the leader of his own mad parade.
But his appearance had been enough. Shard had seen the way that he had doted on the girl, and coupled with her own rage at being tricked into opening the trod, that made Meghan a perfect taregt. She took deadly aim with her spear and was just about to let it fly when she stopped and started batting at something with roars of frustration.
Meghan watched, shocked, as Grimalkin winked in and out of sight on Shard's back. She glanced to Puck, who was still throwing jibes at the redcaps as much as before, but she noticed that he had taken some hits and another wave of redcaps was preparing to join the charge. This couldn't continue and she knew it.
So when she called out to the troll, she really wasn't expecting her plan to work.
-o-
"Luck." Puck stuck his tongue out at Shard as she held her spear up between the advancing troll that had decided to turn on its master. "I have a feeling I'll see your head on that wall sooner than mine, Shard." He muttered, closing the door.
The trod was a glittering tunnel of snow and silver rock. Though it was illuminated by torches along the walls, the corridor seemed to have its own brand of coldness and wildness about it, as though it and its light offered minimal protection against the beings that waited fro them at the end of it. Puck saw Meghan shiver and he glamoured her a snug, white jacket.
"Sorry, princess." He said as he gave it to her. "I would have offered you mine, but," he tugged at the collar and winced, "I think these clothes are just about done for."
"Goodfellow, you would do us all a favor if you bathed." Grimalkin hissed, ears flattened. "You are giving off a most unflattering stench."
"Hey!" Puck called after the cait sith. "I had to fly here all the way from Arcadia after all. Cut me a break, cat, it's been a rough morning to be me."
"I'll imagine." The cat fixed him with a calculating stare. "I suppose that it was quite a scene."
Puck laughed, rubbing the back of his head where a redcap had struck with its baseball bat. "Ouch. Glad to see you've been doing alright without me, princess, though I'd be lying if I said I wasn't a little bit offended."
Meghan caught him in a hug. "I missed you, you idiot. And why are you offended?"
She didn't say it, but she felt like she had more reason to be upset than he did. After all, she hadn't abandoned him to the wyldwood and then left her to fend for herself in Arcadia. But still, she remembered the bird in the cage on Oberon's throne, and even though she wished that someone had been there for her when she'd been turned into a deer and then made to work in the kitchens of the castle, a part of understood that Puck had been just as much a prisoner as she was.
"Well," Puck shrugged, "after all this, you're still alive, still very capable, making deals with dangerous felines." He cocked an eyebrow at her. "Oh come on, princess, it's not like this one ever does anything for free. But still, pretty soon you won't need your Puck at all."
He feigned a morose sigh.
"Oh shut up, Robbie." Meghan stuck her tongue out. "He's just helping us get to Tir Na Nog."
"Tir Na Nog?" Puck's eyes widened. "Why in all the corners of Faery would you want to go there?"
"Ethan." Meghan replied. "He's not at Arcadia, so he's got to be at the Winter Court, right? That's the only other one, so by process of elimination..."
She trailed off, smiling. "Thanks for the jacket, Robbie! It helps a lot."
And then she turned back to the corridor, as though expecting him to just follow.
"Oh my." Grimalkin cocked his eyebrow. "It seems one of us has an ulterior purpose."
Wincing a bit, Puck sighed and made a swat at the feline. "I was going to get to that after we'd said hello."
"What?" Meghan turned back, confusion spreading on her face.
"Strictly speaking, princess, I'm under orders to bring you back to the Summer Court and all. I know it kinda puts a damper on things, after our stirring battle with Shard but..."
She transfixed him with a look, her lips quirking up in a smile that was so similar to his own that he figured she must have copied it, learnt it by mimicry. "You wouldn't. You want me to find Ethan."
"Orders are orders, princess." Puck frowned, shrugging. "I might be Oberon's favorite chew toy, but just because I make him laugh doesn't mean that I can stand up to him canine to canine, if you get my drift. He is one powerful faery and while I am no small menace, I'm no match for him."
Meghan's mouth worked in several strange directions, as though this would help it to better understand. "No, Puck, Robbie," she ran through the litany of names, hoping that one of them would elicit some sympathy, "you can't do this. Not when I still have to find Ethan."
"You know," Puck drew close, whispering and taking a stand of her hair between his fingers, "I could always cast a charm spell on you. You're very stubborn, but I am an old, old faery, Meghan Chase."
They were silent, eyes locked on the other, Puck's green eyes dancing with mirth and a hidden darkness, Meghan's blue eyes flickering with determination. For a moment, she wondered what it might be like to have a charm spell cast on her. Would she end up as in thrall to Puck as the humans in Blue Chaos were to their faery dates? An image of herself, languorously draping her limbs over Puck's neck, waist, dashed through her mind and she blinked quickly, as though hoping to dispell it. Her cheeks burned. Could he really do that to her? Would he?
Puck's grin said nothing either way.
"I am getting tired of waiting." Grimalkin sighed, sweeping his tail along the cold floor. "You are not going to cast any charms on her, Goodfellow, and you know it. Now that that has been settled, may we at last move along?"
Rolling his eyes, Puck let out a small cry of exasperation. "Cat! Ruining all my fun. Well, fine, I'm not, I'm not." He stuffed his hands into his pockets with a fake pout. "But, seriously, your father is not going to be pleased with me, princess. I've had a lot of second chances lately and I think I am just about out of luck with him." He bit his lip, something (resignation?) passing over his features for a moment before it was replaced with Puck's trademark grin. "Still, how often does an opportunity to cause a little havoc like this pop up?"
"Fool." Grimalkin rolled his eyes and walked ahead. Puck laughed.
But Meghan wandered behind a little bit, thinking about charm spells and a certain jester, and whether it would have been so bad for Puck to have cast one after all.
Fandom: Iron Fey
Character/Pairing: Puck/Meghan Chase
Prompt List: Wanderlust
Prompt: Hollywood Babylon
Rating: PG13 (it's a club, yo)
Word Count: 3164
Author's Notes: Came out pretty well for a first draft.
Summary: After her escape, Meghan meets an old friend in Detroit.
Puck picked at the seam of one of his shirtsleeves thoughtfully, brushing the few remaining feathers off his clothing in as slow a manner as possible.
He knew that it was infuriating Oberon, knew that half the Seelie Court was milling about him in varied states of distress and that the other half probably was staring at him with glares of disbelief and begrudging admiration for being so flippant with their king. After all, the Summer princess had just flown the coop as it were, and the Erlking had gotten so desperate to get her back that he was willing to free another bird for that purpose.
The only one who seemed pleased with him right now, ironically, was Titania.
"Husband, please." The Queen of Summer purred, still dressed in her Elysium finery and looking every bit the composed and regal mistress of Arcadia. "The half-breed is gone to us and will trouble us no more. Let your enemies think that they have a valuable pawn and then when they make their moves to negotiate for the whelp, we may strike."
Her smile was all strawberries and vanilla, promises of forgiveness and easy peace masking an ugly core.
Puck knew it well enough not to be taken in and he suspected that, somewhere in there, Oberon knew it, too.
"You will find the girl." Oberon repeated solemnly, ignoring that his wife had spoken. Titania, of course, looked furious at this, but chose to bide her time. In Puck's experience, that generally meant that something worse was on the way.
"Well, not to put a damper on anyone's plans," Puck continued his brushing raven feathers off his clothes, even making a show of checking his back for them to get a few laughs from his audience, "but I haven't agreed to anything yet."
The Erlking's impassive mouth thinned into a small line. It was a small gesture, a twitch in the monarch's face, and unless you were looking for it, you would never have noticed it.
Puck, though, had experience in these matters.
"I have been held against my will." He continued, hands held innocently in the air for the court to see. "I have been caged, even! And now my lord Oberon comes to me asking for favors."
He let his voice drop and the room fell silent. No one was asked of favors by their king. There were orders, only orders, not bargains, not favors. Puck was walking a dangerous path, and even though the room hummed with an excited energy from the sidhe around them, Puck could tell by Titania's carnivorous smile that he had erred in his choice of words.
And sure enough, lightning cut through the sky and a rumble of thunder shook the floor around them, nearly catching Puck off balance.
"Servant," Oberon intoned, and in that moment, no one could question that he was the Lord of the Court here. Power radiated off him in electric waves and if the crowd had not already ceased their scrambling and chatter, they would have been silent now. "You do not demand favors of your liege, much less insinuate that you should be granted them after your failures. You will find Meghan Chase and bring her back without harm."
Puck's expression flickered, a flash of anger biting through the jester's mask before he wore his easy smile again. Royalty were always this way.
But Puck had dealt with royalty for a long time.
He moved his hand over his mouth, his index finger tapping his mocking lips as though deep in thought. After a few moments passed when he felt like significant consideration had been done, Puck swept into an elaborate bow.
"Very well, my lord. It shall be as you wish and more." He grinned, then turned and made for the door.
"You seem in high spirits, Goodfellow, for one who has been chastened by his king." Titania, of course. The Summer Queen might recognize that it was useless to stop Oberon's pursuit of Meghan, but she couldn't resist taking a parting shot at the king's prime lackey before he left.
And that was exactly what Puck had counted on.
"Of course," he tipped an imaginary hat at her, glancing back over his shoulder at the unhappy pair of rulers, "I have my freedom, after all."
Which was more than he could say for just about everyone else in that court.
-o-
Blue Chaos brimmed like a lost Babylon, full of humans and faeries alike in their night finery, ducking and gyrating to the heavy bass beat that thumped through the floors. Drinks sparkled through glass in the hands of dancers, winking silvery and icily at her from the dance floor, each glimmer, each sway of someone's hips an invitation...
Meghan Chase swallowed hard and looked away.
It was just glamour. Really, just glamour. She closed her eyes, trying to get her bearings. Ever since finding out that Oberon was her father and that she could control a little bit of faery magic, she'd been able to see more clearly through it, and she knew that now, if she looked back to the crowd, she'd see the club-goers as who they really were, satyrs and phoukas and whatever. But she was still human, and in that first moment of entering a place like this, she still got caught up in it, still felt drawn, as the other humans in the mess of bodies were, to the attraction and the thrill of danger that awaited her if she chose to venture further in and let herself give in to it.
She bit down hard on her lip.
"Humans." Grimalkin rolled his eyes. "Even though you are half-fey you still possess all their failings. How very unfortunate."
Meghan frowned. Alright, fine. So maybe wanting to get up close and personal with a couple of faeries, as Robbie would jokingly say, was the effects of the glamour. She'd never had a boyfriend, gone on a date, and her last brush with an attractive member of the opposite gender had ended with her photoshopped into an embarrassing pose and in tears. But something had still drawn her gaze back to the heaving press of dancers.
Maybe it was the glamour. But a deeper part of her wondered if maybe it wasn't.
She'd never have come to a place like this, not on her own. But now that she was there, Meghan wondered if maybe there wasn't a hidden draw in it after all, this place that had seemed so forbidden, so out of reach until now. There were kids as young as she was out there, grabbing partners whose names Meghan would bet they didn't even know, caught in mad embraces with faeries who grinned like sharks. A disturbing thought hit her, that there was really no difference between them and her at all, except that she knew that was going on and they didn't.
And then a more disturbing thought struck her, occupied her, until the cait sith spoke and Meghan jumped.
"Innocence shattered." Grimalkin commented wryly from his perch her shoulder. "Yes, human, it is fascinating. But really, must we? Come, let's find the trod and be done with it."
Meghan nodded, tearing her eyes away from the scene and forcing herself to focus on Grimalkin's directions as they approached the bar. It must have been the glamour talking. Yeah, that was it. The Meghan that had gone to school, had played video games with her best friend, had taken care of her little brother, and been a dutiful daughter would not think such thoughts.
But then again, a lot of things had changed. Robbie wasn't Robbie, Ethan was kidnapped, her mother had had an affair with a faery king...
Meghan shivered and hesitated before touching her ears, not wanting to know if they were still pointed.
Just how much of the old Meghan was she? How much human in her was left?
She swallowed, hard, and followed the cat.
-o-
"Some questions are better off not being answered." Shard grinned, her teeth gleaming like deadly icicles. "How painfully will you die, my Summer whelp? I don't believe I owe you the courtesy of elaborating. But you better believe me when I say I will enjoy every moment of it."
The troll off to her side roared, its iron shackles searing into its flesh as it shifted position.
"Grumly!" Shard raised her hand, her eyes dark and desolate as coal in winter. "Kill."
But before the troll and the gathered redcaps could make a move, a bird flying as fast as a shadow zipped into the room and exploded in a swirl of feathers between Meghan and her attackers.
"Yup, still got it." Puck smiled roguishly. "I do love a grand entrance, don't you, princess?"
"Robbie!" Meghan cried. Something was different about him, she thought. She was on the verge of saying more, but he just offered her a wink and then leapt off into battle without giving her the chance.
Maybe calling him Robbie had been wrong. Robbie had been the boy who had helped her on her school projects, gotten popcorn tangled in her hair when they watched movies together. This boy, with his infectious smile and just as pervasive laugh, seemed almost a completely different person.
"Puck." She breathed. Grimalkin snorted.
"Please, human, if you'd like to lose your head, by all means stand there and admire Goodfellow's work. I, for one, intend on living." And with that, the cat disappeared, just as a redcap launched itself at Meghan's face.
"Oops, sorry, princess." Puck appeared out of nowhere, still smiling, his clothes slightly torn, but other than than and a slight sheen of sweat glittering on his skin, looking no worse for wear. "Looks like I missed one."
He kicked the redcap at the fuming winter sidhe, then bounded back off into the fray, dodging between the troll's stomping legs. Illusion and glamour swirled around him, only staying in one place long enough for one of the redcaps to come at him and then winking out of sight as Grumly's foot came down hard on his pursuer.
"Shard, it's been a while, huh?" Puck called in between dodges and roars of the furious troll. "I was wondering when I might get to pay your fine establishment another visit."
"I'll have your head mounted on my wall, Goodfellow!" The winter faery growled, aiming her spear at him. "You can pay all the visits you like when you're dead."
"Tsk, some people have no sense of humor." Puck whispered into Meghan's ear for a moment, and then was gone again, dancing around troll legs and redcaps like the leader of his own mad parade.
But his appearance had been enough. Shard had seen the way that he had doted on the girl, and coupled with her own rage at being tricked into opening the trod, that made Meghan a perfect taregt. She took deadly aim with her spear and was just about to let it fly when she stopped and started batting at something with roars of frustration.
Meghan watched, shocked, as Grimalkin winked in and out of sight on Shard's back. She glanced to Puck, who was still throwing jibes at the redcaps as much as before, but she noticed that he had taken some hits and another wave of redcaps was preparing to join the charge. This couldn't continue and she knew it.
So when she called out to the troll, she really wasn't expecting her plan to work.
-o-
"Luck." Puck stuck his tongue out at Shard as she held her spear up between the advancing troll that had decided to turn on its master. "I have a feeling I'll see your head on that wall sooner than mine, Shard." He muttered, closing the door.
The trod was a glittering tunnel of snow and silver rock. Though it was illuminated by torches along the walls, the corridor seemed to have its own brand of coldness and wildness about it, as though it and its light offered minimal protection against the beings that waited fro them at the end of it. Puck saw Meghan shiver and he glamoured her a snug, white jacket.
"Sorry, princess." He said as he gave it to her. "I would have offered you mine, but," he tugged at the collar and winced, "I think these clothes are just about done for."
"Goodfellow, you would do us all a favor if you bathed." Grimalkin hissed, ears flattened. "You are giving off a most unflattering stench."
"Hey!" Puck called after the cait sith. "I had to fly here all the way from Arcadia after all. Cut me a break, cat, it's been a rough morning to be me."
"I'll imagine." The cat fixed him with a calculating stare. "I suppose that it was quite a scene."
Puck laughed, rubbing the back of his head where a redcap had struck with its baseball bat. "Ouch. Glad to see you've been doing alright without me, princess, though I'd be lying if I said I wasn't a little bit offended."
Meghan caught him in a hug. "I missed you, you idiot. And why are you offended?"
She didn't say it, but she felt like she had more reason to be upset than he did. After all, she hadn't abandoned him to the wyldwood and then left her to fend for herself in Arcadia. But still, she remembered the bird in the cage on Oberon's throne, and even though she wished that someone had been there for her when she'd been turned into a deer and then made to work in the kitchens of the castle, a part of understood that Puck had been just as much a prisoner as she was.
"Well," Puck shrugged, "after all this, you're still alive, still very capable, making deals with dangerous felines." He cocked an eyebrow at her. "Oh come on, princess, it's not like this one ever does anything for free. But still, pretty soon you won't need your Puck at all."
He feigned a morose sigh.
"Oh shut up, Robbie." Meghan stuck her tongue out. "He's just helping us get to Tir Na Nog."
"Tir Na Nog?" Puck's eyes widened. "Why in all the corners of Faery would you want to go there?"
"Ethan." Meghan replied. "He's not at Arcadia, so he's got to be at the Winter Court, right? That's the only other one, so by process of elimination..."
She trailed off, smiling. "Thanks for the jacket, Robbie! It helps a lot."
And then she turned back to the corridor, as though expecting him to just follow.
"Oh my." Grimalkin cocked his eyebrow. "It seems one of us has an ulterior purpose."
Wincing a bit, Puck sighed and made a swat at the feline. "I was going to get to that after we'd said hello."
"What?" Meghan turned back, confusion spreading on her face.
"Strictly speaking, princess, I'm under orders to bring you back to the Summer Court and all. I know it kinda puts a damper on things, after our stirring battle with Shard but..."
She transfixed him with a look, her lips quirking up in a smile that was so similar to his own that he figured she must have copied it, learnt it by mimicry. "You wouldn't. You want me to find Ethan."
"Orders are orders, princess." Puck frowned, shrugging. "I might be Oberon's favorite chew toy, but just because I make him laugh doesn't mean that I can stand up to him canine to canine, if you get my drift. He is one powerful faery and while I am no small menace, I'm no match for him."
Meghan's mouth worked in several strange directions, as though this would help it to better understand. "No, Puck, Robbie," she ran through the litany of names, hoping that one of them would elicit some sympathy, "you can't do this. Not when I still have to find Ethan."
"You know," Puck drew close, whispering and taking a stand of her hair between his fingers, "I could always cast a charm spell on you. You're very stubborn, but I am an old, old faery, Meghan Chase."
They were silent, eyes locked on the other, Puck's green eyes dancing with mirth and a hidden darkness, Meghan's blue eyes flickering with determination. For a moment, she wondered what it might be like to have a charm spell cast on her. Would she end up as in thrall to Puck as the humans in Blue Chaos were to their faery dates? An image of herself, languorously draping her limbs over Puck's neck, waist, dashed through her mind and she blinked quickly, as though hoping to dispell it. Her cheeks burned. Could he really do that to her? Would he?
Puck's grin said nothing either way.
"I am getting tired of waiting." Grimalkin sighed, sweeping his tail along the cold floor. "You are not going to cast any charms on her, Goodfellow, and you know it. Now that that has been settled, may we at last move along?"
Rolling his eyes, Puck let out a small cry of exasperation. "Cat! Ruining all my fun. Well, fine, I'm not, I'm not." He stuffed his hands into his pockets with a fake pout. "But, seriously, your father is not going to be pleased with me, princess. I've had a lot of second chances lately and I think I am just about out of luck with him." He bit his lip, something (resignation?) passing over his features for a moment before it was replaced with Puck's trademark grin. "Still, how often does an opportunity to cause a little havoc like this pop up?"
"Fool." Grimalkin rolled his eyes and walked ahead. Puck laughed.
But Meghan wandered behind a little bit, thinking about charm spells and a certain jester, and whether it would have been so bad for Puck to have cast one after all.