Finally Finished Log! :) [Something Wicked This Way Comes!Verse]
[he really needs some Winter Knight!icons. Hah.]
In which Thomas and Maeve have a chat. Among other things. And Maggie finally discovers that her eldest has given himself in service to the Winter Court.
Finally
Lloyd of the family Slate was already fully gone. The unclear, undefined state of things was done, and things were right again. Winter Court was complete, and issues that had been going a little less than perfectly would get better. Mother, Queen, Lady. Knight. Balance restored.
And what a Knight. Coming into the power bringing decades of skills and knowledge and power of his own to the position. And definitely a sight to see. He could go a very, very long way, Thomas Raith, and could do well by Winter. Would do well.
But now that the wait was finally over... she was a little impatient. To get to know their newest Courtier.
So when he came home that day, he found her lounging gracefully on his living room couch. No way possible could he determine what she'd busied herself with before he showed, since her eyes were on him and attentive, fully, from the moment that he unlocked the door. Tight jeans, pale silvery blue. Tight tee-shirt, ripped off a bit to expose belly-button and a bit of her stomach. Casual but quite revealing.
"Your mother was out. I let myself in." Possibly the same way as Dresden's cleaning service, for example...
--
Thomas paused in the doorway of his apartment, taking in the scene before him. It certainly wasn't one he'd expected to come home to. But not -- entirely -- unwelcome. Only after that moment did he enter the room fully, closing the door behind him. "To what do I owe the unexpected honor?" he asked as he moved toward the adjoining kitchen for a beer. Thomas was fairly certain he was going to need one.
Most people would likely be upset by this invasion. And perhaps Thomas was, to a degree, even if it didn't show in the least. But he'd never truly had something one could term privacy until he'd gotten this apartment so it was hardly something he expected to keep. And he was also well aware of his status in regards to the Winter Lady. She could, of course, come and go as she pleased and he was little entitled to say anything against it.
Understanding these things made it quite easy for him to seem perfectly at ease with her presence in his home.
Seem being the operative word.
--
The canted eyes followed him, almost completely without blinking. Such a pretty plaything. Not that the thought registered on the surface, of course. Nor did she think he'd be surprised at the appreciation. All things considered.
She waited for him to return, then flowed into a more alert sitting position. Attentive.
"I just dropped by to check how you are managing. If you have questions." Her voice was... nice. Oh yes, she could be nice when she wanted to be. Attractive, even. No mortal woman, and all that.
--
Thomas smiled, settling into a chair across from her. "I would be a poor servant indeed if I had no questions." If he didn't have that intellectual spark to search out answers. He took a swallow from his bottle as he watched her. Not wary but interested, careful, possibly curious.
"Your consideration is most appreciated," he let his gaze wander over her form, "indeed."
--
"I should hope so." The voice was close to a purr. About appreciation. She appeared as she did to be appreciated, after all. By mortals and not alike.
And, ah... questions. "I am here to answer what I can. Have you encountered difficulties of any kind?" Her lips turned up into a smile, easy, almost soft-looking. "Are you enjoying what you have now?"
--
Shaking his head, Thomas shrugged, "things have, actually, been unusually quiet for me." He hadn't been pushing them, so much. And he'd successfully been avoiding both his brother and his mother, at least in terms of them wondering about the change in him. Then again, it wasn't as if Maggie was in the apartment as much as she'd used to be. And Harry was likely working. Or something with Elaine. So it hadn't been terribly difficult.
Something about that bothered him. Like it should have been difficult.
"Have you ever considered a handbook?" For the job.
--
Ah, but difficult and easy shifted with what you could, really, do. And right now, he could do a lot - a lot that he put his mind to. "Do you not like them quiet? You have the power to make things happen, when you need it now." Her lips were definitely curled up now. "And I do think more may start happening when the seasons roll." In only a few days. The time when they were equal, Summer and Winter. And then... all theirs. And then he would see too. Feel the turn of time in his heart. Feel the surge of energy as yes, they became stronger than their counterparts. Aaah. Power. If he had some now, he'd have yet more. She suspected he would like that, since he didn't seem unhappy with the current influx.
"Of course not. Written words may fall into the wrong hands. A rather demonstrable point." Handbook indeed.
--
He hadn't been serious. But he simply raised his bottle in recognition of her point, "there is that."
As far as quietude went, "some quiet I like. A chance to relax. But too much of it and I start wondering when the other shoe's going to drop."
Which really means: he starts getting paranoid...er.
And perhaps he'd just expected there to be more happening since he accepted the mantle of Winter Knight. The fact that it hadn't was...unsettling.
"So what can I do? Magically speaking." He'd stuck to mostly-familiar territory.
--
Maeve smiled with something that could be an approximation to sweetness. "It will greatly depend on what you can learn and imagine, Thomas. The extent of power may not equal one of a Sidhe Queen, but how much it can do is determined by who is wielding it. Different Knights have reached different degrees of proficiency, and different aspects of it sometimes. It may have some similarities in use with that of a wizard, but how closely, I cannot say." Meaning, she hadn't bothered to look into it, as such.
Some of the Knights had gone by so quickly. Mortal. Like butterflies.
Her smile turned a little more ... focused. "Waiting for the 'other shoe to drop'. That is a wise thing to do - it keeps you on your toes. Which," her eyes slid over his body, sitting as he was, from toes all the way up to his face, indicating that he was tall already, in more senses than one, "will only make your reach better."
--
It depends. He should have figured on an answer like that. "So you mean I've just got to work it out on my own?" That's the way lots of things seemed to work for him lately.
Obligingly, Thomas stretched languidly, managing to appear he'd simply chosen that moment on a whim but quite aptly demonstrating his "reach".
--
Her own body's position went a little more... feline as he moved. Oh yes, she would definitely enjoy working with this one. Probably more difficult to control to begin with, without the addiction, but she could definitely come up with other ways.
"It is a power that comes from us and is also in a way limited by us, but it isn't something we can give an inside understanding of. I could tell you what others have been able to do before you, and what I've suspected they could. I didn't ask how, at the time." Hey, nobody has ever accused Maeve in being too attentive, focused, patient, and systematic...
--
He flashed her a smile, "you could tell me, but will you?"
There was, after all, a difference between the two of which he was quite aware.
And she might be finding Thomas more difficult to control period. He went his own way, though as long as their goals were more or less in line, he was willing to play along to get what he needed wanted from them.
--
"Possibly." She was here, after all. Tilting her head sideways, she asked, "since I cannot be fully sure what you would consider... limitation? Comparatively stronger exhibition of power." That was truth, the Sidhe had, at best, guesses as how mortals' - or other beings' - minds worked. "What you can do can be both major and subtle, depending on how you work it. It is not as great as a Sidhe Queen's power, and is somewhat different than what the Fae wield." Or else it wouldn't be possible to bestow it on somebody. "It is not something that grows with you, as that of magical beings born may, but it is great enough, and time may give you access to significantly more aspects of it."
Maeve smiled again, a little. "What would you consider a boundary to it? What would you want to know if you can do?"
--
"I would simply hate to find myself in a situation where I might...find myself lacking." So to speak. "I'd much rather prefer to avoid those situations in the first place but I can hardly do so if I don't know what would constitute one."
He wasn't a fan of trial and error. Forwarned and forearmed and all that.
--
"I wouldn't recommend going up against a Sidhe queen. A divinity. And possibly some of the demons, unconstrained - definitely the ones from the furthest reaches - might be too much. Unless you know precisely what you are doing, I suppose." It was, after all, well known and demonstrable in Thomas's family fact that even a smaller amount of force, correctly applied, could suffice to overpower greater strength. Occasionally.
"Since he's had some advance start, I wouldn't recommend trying to engage into a pitched battle with the Summer Knight either. For now." She shook her head, the colored locks cascading along her shoulders. "No matter how much I, or the Queen, or even the Mother teach you, though. For a long while your limit will be more in how deep you can tap into it rather than reaching its acual limit."
It wasn't a laughing matter all, the mantle of a Sidhe Court Knight.
--
He had no intentions of going up against any of the Queens, gods, or demons. Not his idea of a good time. Not directly anyway.
"So I merely have to practice." And try not to be too obvious about it. He leaned toward her, a flash of silver in his grey eyes, "and how would you suggest I go about that, my Lady?"
Not one of his better ideas, but he was rather curious how far it would go. If it went at all.
--
"Well, yes, practice." Her smile widened, the canted eyes narrowing slightly with amusement. Or maybe a flicker of curiosity too, at that silver. Her voice was almost with a hint of a purr too, when she went on, "and as with many things, practice might be based on what you will want to be doing. Liiiike... find your way home." No, not just to the Nevernever. To the specific places there that he now had access to. The Courts of Winter.
And no, there wasn't any particular stress on the word 'home'. Merely the clear statement that this - his flat, the place he'd made for himself - was no longer where his duties bound him to.
Or maybe an invitation.
Or maybe even an offer to show him. Possibly. This wasn't that different. She didn't think.
--
Mentally, he balked at her usage of the word 'home'. There was only one home for him and it was neither this flat nor the Winter Courts nor any property owned by House Raith. It wasn't even a fixed location. Not when it was wherever someone else was.
But he also knew little would come of arguing. That she perhaps expected him to. So he didn't. "That is something I would like to learn. The way there and back." And a subtle emphasis on and back. Thomas didn't care to remain in the lands of the Winter Sidhe forever.
Of course, he couldn't anyway, not and fulfill his duties to the Queens. Not when there was a reason that the Knight be mortal. Or something close enough as to make no difference to Mab.
--
Of course, being trapped into the lands that he served now was not in the immediate plans at all. What with how long the previous Knight had been... bound. But then again, if it seemed - expedient, the flow of time could be altered. Or, in short, time could be an irrelevant factor.
"Of course, whenever you wish. Anything else that you would similarly want to know?" Maeve didn't exactly look as though she'd moved, and yet her body was more alert - leaning forward, closer to him with interest, rather than merely - comfortably resting. Oh of course she still looked comfortable. She just about always did.
--
Thomas smiled, "the list is quite long. I would hate to detain you..."
Not that she seemed at all inclined to go anywhere. Not that he seemed to mind.
--
"Oh, I don't know. If you mention, say, the top three? It might be possible to, ah... knock off more than one bird with the same shot." So to speak. And she was also curious about what he wanted to learn first. What he wanted to do the soonest.
She wanted to get to know him better. However mundane that sounded...
--
He didn't care to mention the work he'd been doing to touch Justine. Partly because that ought to be obvious if she knew what Mab had dangled in front of him for him to accept being the Winter Knight and partly because he didn't care to directly remind her of the button most likely to work on him if pressed. Other things he wants to know...
"Harry, for example, I've seen direct fire or kinetic energy or bursts of wind at people, usually through his staff. I imagine I might be able to do similar things?" Probably not the fire though blue flames might be cool. So that's one. Something rather important if he's put into a direct confrontation with someone. Something else he wants to know, "and what is my standing where others of your Court is concerned? Might I command them in some way or is that perhaps only reserved for when I am actually acting on behalf of one of the Queens?"
And lastly..."what would you have me to know?"
--
Of course she knew what the ... incitement for him had been. And - she wasn't currently asking for perfect openness or honesty either. She was Sidhe, after all. Perfect honesty was virtually impossible. Not to mention, highly not commendable.
And, not in the last place, not anything she would expect of a Raith.
"Yes, you can control energy in a way very similar to the way a wizard can. Some elements will be easier to work with, others more difficult. You may find it easier to have an object to focus the power through as well, at the beginning. You might... end up wielding more than most such artifacts can take at any one time, eventually. But we can come up with something until then. Make it, that is." Why yes, that could take cooperation with others of the Court.
She was looking at him with her head canted to one side. "There is only one Knight." That was, to her mind, an answer enough about standing. In a world where most power structures worked in threes, the Knight was unique. Focusing all the power - magical and, ah, 'political' - of a group into a single entity. "You are under the command of the Court. In some things you will be able to command; in others, you may be commanded." Though that was rare, and usually explicitly stated. "It would not be a good idea to abuse the command over others too much unless you do have at least tacit approval from a Queen." Along the lines of broken-promise-magical-consequences bad idea. But he was under the same protection too, on the other hand.
And as for the last part... she shifted so that her body's shape outlined more definitely against her clothes, and then rose gracefully, crossing the distance between them. In easy reach. In fact, she reached and ran her fingers lightly, barely touching over his cheekbone. "I think there may be something the learning of which could turn out to be mutually beneficial. How your power... works on us." If at all. Or in full. And what would the effects to both sides be.
He must be curious about that too. If not exactly enthusiastic about experimenting.
--
That was all quite a lot of good information. Almost more than he'd expected out of her. But then, from what little he'd seen so far, Maeve did seem rather more forthcoming than Mab. Among other things. He did like the idea of a power focus. Probably because of the 'makes him feel all manly' effect tools usually had on those of the masculine persuasion. Even if having to carry around a focus would make him more noticeable, make him stand out. Of course, he could always make sure whatever he had was...discreet. They would certainly appreciate that, he was certain.
For the second part, he merely nodded. It made sense, but it was something he'd felt compelled to...double check on his assumption. Politics among the Sidhe he knew were delicate and Thomas was more than certain the Queens would not appreciate a misstep on his part that could have been easily avoided. For that matter, he himself wouldn't care to do it as a matter of personal pride.
And then the last. He doesn't move when she approaches him, nor when she touches him, but his eyes flash silver again and his skin becomes noticeably cooler under her fingers. His smile is a lazy, self-assured one as he watches her. "I had wondered what would happen."
And now he had tacit permission so he feels no qualms about giving a bit to the Hunger, in wrapping her in his aura if not his arms.
Yet.
--
'Forthcoming' may have been a flattering way to put it, of course. 'Rash' might sometimes cover it, or 'careless'. But not in this case. Thomas was bound, and in a position that needed being filled up well and soon. This information was good for him. And oh with what he would do? He would probably repay all that was vested in him. Not her personally, necessarily. But nothing would be weighed out or forgotten.
And the foci... could be of his choosing. And probably would be, eventually.
And oh they did understand about personal reasons for doing things well. Personal pride. He'd had years, decades of experience in a delicate court. He would navigate safely enough. Until he found out what he wanted, and then he would pull strings and manipulate and of necessity let himself be manipulate in turn, just as would be proper for not only what - because a Knight did not need to, necessarily - but who he was too.
Necessity. Need. The pull washed over her, palpable, the lines of power almost visibly wrapping around her, for a moment clearly distinguishable for her before she half-closed her eyes and let herself relax into them. Perhaps if she put her mind - or power, or both - against those 'visible' threads, she could have stretched them, bent them, torn them. Possibly. But right now she didn't want to do it. Her lips parted and her breathing sped up. Not just with the lust of it. With the strength of it, the completeness of it. Oh yes, it was power all right, this Hunger. It worked through and through, brutally and subtly and enticingly all at the same time. Briefly, her head rolled back, strands of colored hair sliding along the skin of her cheek, then she straightened, and then fluidly leaned forward, palm against his cheek to meet his lips.
Not because of anything like 'it seemed like a good idea at the time'. Because it was the logical continuation. The pull of the power was quite sufficient to tip her usually strong appetites into full wakefulness. And barely out of full control. Meaning, she didn't straddle him, making their clothes start disappearing right then. But not enough to not lean for a kiss. And what a kiss...!
--
He knew, somehow, that she was choosing to let him do this to her. And there was something in that that took the edge off, made it easier to control his Hunger. She was not prey, for all she was pretending it for the moment. It served as a reminder he would remember.
But for all of that, he was willing enough to continue the charade, slipping his arms around her and kissing her in return. Deepening the sensations with his power, drawing out her lust with the same subtle care one would use with threads of blown glass. Almost unnoticeable unless one realized what he was doing because he was quite adept at making one simply not care about anything besides, for instance, the feel of his skin on theirs.
Of course it might be said he himself was quickly coming to not care about much beyond the web he was weaving around her.
--
It may have had to do with the fact that she was, after all, more Fae than woman that made her just aware of the power web. The stronger, closer it became, the brighter it could be seen if Maeve chose to look.
But she didn't. She was feeling instead.
The Sidhe were people of beauty not for nothing. Beautiful vision. Beautiful voices and music. If you got lured to eat or drink of their fare, that would be stunningly beautiful too, in its way. Beautiful to the touch.
They were so because they could perceive it more sharply so than mortals would. So the feel of his skin - cold, so luxuriously cold under her palm, against her lips, around her body - was quite the sensation to build upon.
Yes, she was aware he was still a predator whose lure was affecting her, and quite as it was supposed to. Yes, she was aware that perhaps she was risking becoming prey. And yes, perhaps that was making the rush of this even better. Because the mix between lust and draw, between want and power coursing through her? Felt genuinely - good.
She drew back for a moment. Presumably to take a breath, but maybe to just see him as he was now, so she would know. And maybe just because sight was also an important sensation. And maybe she did want that breath. Or maybe she didn't.
"I like that." So maybe there was to her tone a childish 'let's do it again!' cast. But the next word, the next word was spoken soberly, easily. A permission for the experiment - if that's what this was, to go on. Not that she wanted to pull away, nor that she cared too much. But somehow it seemed right to give permission. She was a queen, was she not?
She was in his arms, kissing him... was she not?
"Yes."
And then she was leaning and kissing him again.
--
Her reaction genuinely pleased Thomas, if only because it was a change. Something he hadn't really experienced before. And when she looks at him, his eyes are more silver than grey, even if that distinction is a subtle one. She was pleased and pleasing and willing and he hadn't truly sated himself in far too long.
And here she was, kissing him, in his arms. Ready for the taking.
So he took.
It was like nothing he'd ever tasted before. Like a quick-moving, freezing moutain stream. Lightning in his veins. Like when he accepted the mantle of Winter Knight.
There was usually such heat when he seduced a woman. This was different.
But good. Far too good.
--
Maggie felt the pull of Thomas's power almost before she set foot in the room. It was stronger than it had ever been, or at least stronger than she had ever felt. Enough to make her worry and risk interrupting him with someoe. Enough that, if he hadn't been with Maeve, she might have shouted at him, demanded to know what the hell he thought he was doing.
But this was Maggie, and she recognized the Winter Lady the moment she stepped into the room.
"Thomas." Mild. Rather like clearing her throat.
What the hell do you think you're doing?
--
The voice penetrated, soft and mild as it was. Maeve's form stilled in Thomas's arms, just breathing heavily for a moment, and the canted eyes opened as her lips lingered for a moment just brushing his. The pull was weaker now, it felt, so she didn't have that much trouble pulling back from how close they'd been pressed together in the middle of rumpling clothes and revealed skin. Yes. The touching of skin on skin had been important until instants ago. Now - absolutely regardless of the rumpled look, she was the Lady of Winter, and nothing in her motions, in the position of her body, or in her eyes would suggest that she was embarrassed. Because she wasn't.
"Margaret LeFay. Good evening to you." She was now standing besides the chair which Thomas had taken. Calm. Relaxed. It was also her ground, in a way.
--
Thomas looked up at Maggie, the chill in the air surrounding him and the paleness of his skin and eyes unmistakeable to anyone familiar with the White Court. There's a breath or two before he seems to come back to himself, as much as his Hunger may be angry at the interruption.
Many a son would be mortified to be caught thusly by his mother. Especially when his shirt is hanging half off his body and the top button of his pants appears undone. But Thomas had little shame -- if any -- where his body was concerned or just about anything he did with it. So he was quite able to meet her gaze as he stood up beside Maeve. Though he might not if he'd noticed how starkly the white outline of a snowflake stood even on the pale skin of his chest.
"Mother."
This was going to get awkward.
--
Maggie did indeed notice their state of undress. That wasn't what bothered her. She knew what her son was, what his father had been. Possibly more than the woman-shaped creature who had until so recently had her tongue down his mouth, she knew what he was. Possibly less. She had been gone for many years.
That wasn't what concerned her though. Not nearly as much as the expression on Maeve's face, too confident for Maggie's comfort though she, too, would take care not to let that discomfort show. Too relaxed. Too easy. As though she'd won a victory. And then again, as she glanced at the snowflake tattooed, branded, imprinted however it was on her son's chest (and looking there she had to fight briefly to keep his creature's instincts from locking her eyes there) she wondered maybe if that was entirely too accurate.
"Good evening," she nodded politely to the Winter Lady, because it would never do to be impolite. "I take it I was interrupting something?"
Not that that had ever stopped her.
--
Not won a victory, per se. It had not been a fight, more of a mutually agreed interaction. it was just... self-assurance. Possibly to a degree a sense of property. Not that she would be so blatant as to display it, not right now. Not very interested in confrontations now.
However... seeing the wizardess's reaction, and when it happened? That was something to remark on. Obviously Thomas had not yet revealed his newly acquired power to his mother in the time elapsed since the event. Curious. But then, mortals usually were.
"Not fully. We were conducting a small experiment. With rather interesting results on both sides, I am sure." Why yes, she was smirking. Just a tinly little bit. And she abstained from making a crass gesture of ownership such as reaching out to touch the Knight. However... "Thomas? Do you want this visit to end now?" Hah. As if he wanted what she didn't, it would precisely work out. But she could stay or go, either way, right now. There was enough to process now. And she did intend to make a show of leaving that Thomas might learn from, if he would watch carefully.
--
He watched the exchange between the two ladies, weighing his response before he spoke. Perhaps he could have taken the opportunity to straighten out his clothing but that would only draw attention. Would only make him look like he was afraid of what Maggie thought. So instead he remained as he would, standing with the sort of self-confidence one some might label arrogance. It made for an effective blind.
When Maeve directed her question to him, Thomas smiled slightly. "I think I've learned more than enough for one day." Which didn't, actually, answer what she'd asked as it didn't speak to what he wanted but...well, it was certainly true.
--
Maggie was damn well going to ask what Thomas had learned, but later. Out of the presence of the Winter Lady.
She inclined her head in something like a bow though without that level of submission or obeisance, wordlessly indicating an encouragement for Maeve to interpret that statement of dismissal. She wouldn't blatantly contradict or supersede Thomas, not in his own house. But she would indicate her own wish for this visit to end. For, ideally, any and all associations Thomas had with either of the fey courts to end, but that was a vain hope by now, wasn't it.
Stars above, she hadn't wanted this to happen. Had never wanted either of her children to become so involved with the Fey. It was bad enough that she'd made that choice for Harry, but now this...
--
Maeve's eyes narrowed with amusement.
"Well met, then," she paused for moment, as though hesitating between calling him by name or title, "Thomas of the family Raith. Perhaps it would be good to let that sink in for a while. Until then - I am sure you will find a way to get in touch if you need." They obviously would get in touch if they wanted him.
And, as far as learning was concerned - she could at least show a way he should be able to duplicate, with some effort possibly to start with, directly to where he would be attended to if and when he showed up. "Or also... Are you watching closely?" She waited for him to look at her, to get his full attention, before slowly opening a gateway to where in the land of the Sidhe he'd be welcomed.
Another smile at him (good learning, there... for both of them), and a slow, careful nod at Margaret. And she was gone. For now.
--
He did indeed watch closely. One final lesson for the day. Something he'd have to replicate. Later. Try to replicate. Though he thinks he's got it. He's crossed into the Never Never before, after all. And before she leaves, he does manage a, "thank you for your time, Lady." Never hurts to be polite (most of the time). Especially to what amounts to one's liege. And wasn't that still a weird thought?
Only once she's gone does Thomas go about casually rearranging his clothing, if only so he doesn't have to look at the expression he imagines is on Maggie's face.
--
There was certainly some sort of a something on Maggie's face. When she didn't have to guard her thoughts from showing up on her features, there was a whole lot of a something. Dismay, for a start. Disappointment. Regret as well, and fear and worry. A great deal of fear and worry. Of all the people in his family, she knew possibly even better than Raith what the Fey were capable of, and she knew what getting entangled with them could lead to. This was not a road she had wanted either of her sons to go down, but of either of them she had thought it would be more likely Harry standing here.
She took a breath and let it out slowly, tilting her head after a second to try and catch Thomas's gaze. "What happened, Thomas?" Her voice was gentle, at least, even if her eyes were slightly wild. She wasn't angry. She would have protested that she wasn't upset, but it would have been a lie.
--
"Well, it isn't every day I come home and find the Winter Lady waiting to pay me a visit, now is it?"
Which, obviously, wasn't the actual answer to the actual question she was asking but it wasn't in his nature to just make things easy. Not this sort of thing, anyway.
And he certainly wouldn't have believed her if she'd said she wasn't upset. He possibly wouldn't even believe she wasn't angry, at least a little. So it's just better all around that that hadn't come up.
--
"I don't know," she said, still gentle and calm, at least in her voice. "Is it?" Or perhaps she meant, is it going to be a regular occurrance. The Winter Lady had certainly seemed awfully at home with Thomas.
Well, perhaps no more at home than a lot of other women had been. But mortal women. Not a Fae power.
--
"I don't expect it will be, no."
More often than he ever saw the Winter Lady in the past (read: never)? Well, yes. Daily? Nope!
"Though I'm sorry you had to witness that." Which was quite possibly tinged more with sorry I was caught.
--
Maggie gave him a look of I can read your subtext. Which was possibly because she was his mother and possibly because she was good at reading subtext, and more likely a combination of the two.
"I'm sure," she murmured, which was more like I'm sure you are. "What happened, Thomas? What was that and that," she pointed at the snowflake brand. "All about?"
--
Dammit. Straight questions. And he wasn't inclined to out and out lie. Well, not to Maggie, anyway. "That," meaning Maeve's visit, "was a simple informational exchange. She wanted to tell me about some of the ways of Winter. And I-...wanted to know how the Hunger would affect one of the Sidhe." Which was true. He had wanted to know and he'd certainly liked what he had learned.
"As for the other. That was part of a bargain." Which was, likely, obvious. Why else would he have it?
And even now he was fairly certain he would make that bargain again for what it had given him.
--
"What bargain."
Maggie's voice... well, now Maggie's voice was less than gentle and closer to what one might call angry. There was steel in it, for certain. There was no edge to it, or at least, it wasn't directed at Thomas. It was most likely directed at the Winter Queen. Maggie didn't think that Maeve would have attempted something so bold on her own.
But. The Winter Queen came with her own set of dangers, dangers which she did not want either of her boys dealing with. Perhaps it was only a mother's instinct to protect her sons.
--
Perhaps there were some who would be inclined to back down a bit at the sound of that steel in Maggie's voice. Perhaps Thomas would be one of those...if he hadn't also grown up under the White King. Among many others in his life. So he merely stood there, thumbs hooked through the belt loops on his hips, his stance appearing relaxed.
He didn't, after all, care to push this into more of a fight by simple body language.
Still, he sighed. He hadn't wanted her to find out like this. Of course, it was possible he'd been irrationally hoping she wouldn't find out at all. Her or Harry. "The Winter Court was in need of a Knight."
--
Maggie's eyes widened and, certainly not for the first time in her life but possibly for the first time in front of her son, she felt her legs give way under her until she was sitting slightly splay-legged on the ground, the fingertips of one hand pressed to her forehead. Thomas. The Winter Knight. She had known that Mab was courting her boys, she wasn't surprised, really. Dismayed might be the better word.
Tired was a good one, too. Not surprised that Mab had offered, but that Thomas had accepted. There were only a few things that would get him to do that.
"What did she offer you."
--
That...hadn't been the reaction he was expecting. It worried him. He dropped into a crouch beside her, both to make sure she wasn't also looking a little too pale and so he wasn't looming towering over her.
"Justine."
He paused. Reconsidered. Or actually..."the power to use to touch her again."
It wasn't as if, after all, he'd magically had Justine living with him now that he belonged to Mab. Nor that he'd just been able to bypass the protection laid on her without figuring out how to do so himself.
--
Maggie sort of winced. "That would do it, I suppose." Of course, that had done it, but she could well imagine giving up almost anything to make Justin whole, to keep Malcolm safe. To keep her sons safe. Love was one of the most powerful forces in the universe, she had never denied that. Still...
Still, it was her son. And he was the Winter Knight, and now his loyalties were pulled in a direction she would never have had him go. Dammit.
"Well." Maggie took a breath, pretending to be easier or steadier than she was. "Done is done, I suppose." It was better than going you bloody idiot, what the hell did you think you were doing?
--
And it was something he well knew and pointing it out would only make him obstinate.
So he offered her up a crooked smile, "pretty much."
Done had to be done anyway, considering it wasn't the sort of thing she could change.
--
Still. She eyed him sideways. "I'm sure I'll yell at you later for this. Mother's perogative." Although now that she'd said that she probably wouldn't.
Not unless he went and did something even more foolish, or compounding the foolishness.
--
He opened his arms to her, "I'll practice my sulky teenager glares just for the occasion."
Which had to be at least a little funny, considering he was a grownup. Most of the time.
--
"Brat," she smiled, hugging him gently. Sadly, really. "What on earth am I going to do with you?"
--
He was that.
"This right here, this is good."
--
"Well, all right then."
And it was. For now.
In which Thomas and Maeve have a chat. Among other things. And Maggie finally discovers that her eldest has given himself in service to the Winter Court.
Finally
Lloyd of the family Slate was already fully gone. The unclear, undefined state of things was done, and things were right again. Winter Court was complete, and issues that had been going a little less than perfectly would get better. Mother, Queen, Lady. Knight. Balance restored.
And what a Knight. Coming into the power bringing decades of skills and knowledge and power of his own to the position. And definitely a sight to see. He could go a very, very long way, Thomas Raith, and could do well by Winter. Would do well.
But now that the wait was finally over... she was a little impatient. To get to know their newest Courtier.
So when he came home that day, he found her lounging gracefully on his living room couch. No way possible could he determine what she'd busied herself with before he showed, since her eyes were on him and attentive, fully, from the moment that he unlocked the door. Tight jeans, pale silvery blue. Tight tee-shirt, ripped off a bit to expose belly-button and a bit of her stomach. Casual but quite revealing.
"Your mother was out. I let myself in." Possibly the same way as Dresden's cleaning service, for example...
--
Thomas paused in the doorway of his apartment, taking in the scene before him. It certainly wasn't one he'd expected to come home to. But not -- entirely -- unwelcome. Only after that moment did he enter the room fully, closing the door behind him. "To what do I owe the unexpected honor?" he asked as he moved toward the adjoining kitchen for a beer. Thomas was fairly certain he was going to need one.
Most people would likely be upset by this invasion. And perhaps Thomas was, to a degree, even if it didn't show in the least. But he'd never truly had something one could term privacy until he'd gotten this apartment so it was hardly something he expected to keep. And he was also well aware of his status in regards to the Winter Lady. She could, of course, come and go as she pleased and he was little entitled to say anything against it.
Understanding these things made it quite easy for him to seem perfectly at ease with her presence in his home.
Seem being the operative word.
--
The canted eyes followed him, almost completely without blinking. Such a pretty plaything. Not that the thought registered on the surface, of course. Nor did she think he'd be surprised at the appreciation. All things considered.
She waited for him to return, then flowed into a more alert sitting position. Attentive.
"I just dropped by to check how you are managing. If you have questions." Her voice was... nice. Oh yes, she could be nice when she wanted to be. Attractive, even. No mortal woman, and all that.
--
Thomas smiled, settling into a chair across from her. "I would be a poor servant indeed if I had no questions." If he didn't have that intellectual spark to search out answers. He took a swallow from his bottle as he watched her. Not wary but interested, careful, possibly curious.
"Your consideration is most appreciated," he let his gaze wander over her form, "indeed."
--
"I should hope so." The voice was close to a purr. About appreciation. She appeared as she did to be appreciated, after all. By mortals and not alike.
And, ah... questions. "I am here to answer what I can. Have you encountered difficulties of any kind?" Her lips turned up into a smile, easy, almost soft-looking. "Are you enjoying what you have now?"
--
Shaking his head, Thomas shrugged, "things have, actually, been unusually quiet for me." He hadn't been pushing them, so much. And he'd successfully been avoiding both his brother and his mother, at least in terms of them wondering about the change in him. Then again, it wasn't as if Maggie was in the apartment as much as she'd used to be. And Harry was likely working. Or something with Elaine. So it hadn't been terribly difficult.
Something about that bothered him. Like it should have been difficult.
"Have you ever considered a handbook?" For the job.
--
Ah, but difficult and easy shifted with what you could, really, do. And right now, he could do a lot - a lot that he put his mind to. "Do you not like them quiet? You have the power to make things happen, when you need it now." Her lips were definitely curled up now. "And I do think more may start happening when the seasons roll." In only a few days. The time when they were equal, Summer and Winter. And then... all theirs. And then he would see too. Feel the turn of time in his heart. Feel the surge of energy as yes, they became stronger than their counterparts. Aaah. Power. If he had some now, he'd have yet more. She suspected he would like that, since he didn't seem unhappy with the current influx.
"Of course not. Written words may fall into the wrong hands. A rather demonstrable point." Handbook indeed.
--
He hadn't been serious. But he simply raised his bottle in recognition of her point, "there is that."
As far as quietude went, "some quiet I like. A chance to relax. But too much of it and I start wondering when the other shoe's going to drop."
Which really means: he starts getting paranoid...er.
And perhaps he'd just expected there to be more happening since he accepted the mantle of Winter Knight. The fact that it hadn't was...unsettling.
"So what can I do? Magically speaking." He'd stuck to mostly-familiar territory.
--
Maeve smiled with something that could be an approximation to sweetness. "It will greatly depend on what you can learn and imagine, Thomas. The extent of power may not equal one of a Sidhe Queen, but how much it can do is determined by who is wielding it. Different Knights have reached different degrees of proficiency, and different aspects of it sometimes. It may have some similarities in use with that of a wizard, but how closely, I cannot say." Meaning, she hadn't bothered to look into it, as such.
Some of the Knights had gone by so quickly. Mortal. Like butterflies.
Her smile turned a little more ... focused. "Waiting for the 'other shoe to drop'. That is a wise thing to do - it keeps you on your toes. Which," her eyes slid over his body, sitting as he was, from toes all the way up to his face, indicating that he was tall already, in more senses than one, "will only make your reach better."
--
It depends. He should have figured on an answer like that. "So you mean I've just got to work it out on my own?" That's the way lots of things seemed to work for him lately.
Obligingly, Thomas stretched languidly, managing to appear he'd simply chosen that moment on a whim but quite aptly demonstrating his "reach".
--
Her own body's position went a little more... feline as he moved. Oh yes, she would definitely enjoy working with this one. Probably more difficult to control to begin with, without the addiction, but she could definitely come up with other ways.
"It is a power that comes from us and is also in a way limited by us, but it isn't something we can give an inside understanding of. I could tell you what others have been able to do before you, and what I've suspected they could. I didn't ask how, at the time." Hey, nobody has ever accused Maeve in being too attentive, focused, patient, and systematic...
--
He flashed her a smile, "you could tell me, but will you?"
There was, after all, a difference between the two of which he was quite aware.
And she might be finding Thomas more difficult to control period. He went his own way, though as long as their goals were more or less in line, he was willing to play along to get what he needed wanted from them.
--
"Possibly." She was here, after all. Tilting her head sideways, she asked, "since I cannot be fully sure what you would consider... limitation? Comparatively stronger exhibition of power." That was truth, the Sidhe had, at best, guesses as how mortals' - or other beings' - minds worked. "What you can do can be both major and subtle, depending on how you work it. It is not as great as a Sidhe Queen's power, and is somewhat different than what the Fae wield." Or else it wouldn't be possible to bestow it on somebody. "It is not something that grows with you, as that of magical beings born may, but it is great enough, and time may give you access to significantly more aspects of it."
Maeve smiled again, a little. "What would you consider a boundary to it? What would you want to know if you can do?"
--
"I would simply hate to find myself in a situation where I might...find myself lacking." So to speak. "I'd much rather prefer to avoid those situations in the first place but I can hardly do so if I don't know what would constitute one."
He wasn't a fan of trial and error. Forwarned and forearmed and all that.
--
"I wouldn't recommend going up against a Sidhe queen. A divinity. And possibly some of the demons, unconstrained - definitely the ones from the furthest reaches - might be too much. Unless you know precisely what you are doing, I suppose." It was, after all, well known and demonstrable in Thomas's family fact that even a smaller amount of force, correctly applied, could suffice to overpower greater strength. Occasionally.
"Since he's had some advance start, I wouldn't recommend trying to engage into a pitched battle with the Summer Knight either. For now." She shook her head, the colored locks cascading along her shoulders. "No matter how much I, or the Queen, or even the Mother teach you, though. For a long while your limit will be more in how deep you can tap into it rather than reaching its acual limit."
It wasn't a laughing matter all, the mantle of a Sidhe Court Knight.
--
He had no intentions of going up against any of the Queens, gods, or demons. Not his idea of a good time. Not directly anyway.
"So I merely have to practice." And try not to be too obvious about it. He leaned toward her, a flash of silver in his grey eyes, "and how would you suggest I go about that, my Lady?"
Not one of his better ideas, but he was rather curious how far it would go. If it went at all.
--
"Well, yes, practice." Her smile widened, the canted eyes narrowing slightly with amusement. Or maybe a flicker of curiosity too, at that silver. Her voice was almost with a hint of a purr too, when she went on, "and as with many things, practice might be based on what you will want to be doing. Liiiike... find your way home." No, not just to the Nevernever. To the specific places there that he now had access to. The Courts of Winter.
And no, there wasn't any particular stress on the word 'home'. Merely the clear statement that this - his flat, the place he'd made for himself - was no longer where his duties bound him to.
Or maybe an invitation.
Or maybe even an offer to show him. Possibly. This wasn't that different. She didn't think.
--
Mentally, he balked at her usage of the word 'home'. There was only one home for him and it was neither this flat nor the Winter Courts nor any property owned by House Raith. It wasn't even a fixed location. Not when it was wherever someone else was.
But he also knew little would come of arguing. That she perhaps expected him to. So he didn't. "That is something I would like to learn. The way there and back." And a subtle emphasis on and back. Thomas didn't care to remain in the lands of the Winter Sidhe forever.
Of course, he couldn't anyway, not and fulfill his duties to the Queens. Not when there was a reason that the Knight be mortal. Or something close enough as to make no difference to Mab.
--
Of course, being trapped into the lands that he served now was not in the immediate plans at all. What with how long the previous Knight had been... bound. But then again, if it seemed - expedient, the flow of time could be altered. Or, in short, time could be an irrelevant factor.
"Of course, whenever you wish. Anything else that you would similarly want to know?" Maeve didn't exactly look as though she'd moved, and yet her body was more alert - leaning forward, closer to him with interest, rather than merely - comfortably resting. Oh of course she still looked comfortable. She just about always did.
--
Thomas smiled, "the list is quite long. I would hate to detain you..."
Not that she seemed at all inclined to go anywhere. Not that he seemed to mind.
--
"Oh, I don't know. If you mention, say, the top three? It might be possible to, ah... knock off more than one bird with the same shot." So to speak. And she was also curious about what he wanted to learn first. What he wanted to do the soonest.
She wanted to get to know him better. However mundane that sounded...
--
He didn't care to mention the work he'd been doing to touch Justine. Partly because that ought to be obvious if she knew what Mab had dangled in front of him for him to accept being the Winter Knight and partly because he didn't care to directly remind her of the button most likely to work on him if pressed. Other things he wants to know...
"Harry, for example, I've seen direct fire or kinetic energy or bursts of wind at people, usually through his staff. I imagine I might be able to do similar things?" Probably not the fire though blue flames might be cool. So that's one. Something rather important if he's put into a direct confrontation with someone. Something else he wants to know, "and what is my standing where others of your Court is concerned? Might I command them in some way or is that perhaps only reserved for when I am actually acting on behalf of one of the Queens?"
And lastly..."what would you have me to know?"
--
Of course she knew what the ... incitement for him had been. And - she wasn't currently asking for perfect openness or honesty either. She was Sidhe, after all. Perfect honesty was virtually impossible. Not to mention, highly not commendable.
And, not in the last place, not anything she would expect of a Raith.
"Yes, you can control energy in a way very similar to the way a wizard can. Some elements will be easier to work with, others more difficult. You may find it easier to have an object to focus the power through as well, at the beginning. You might... end up wielding more than most such artifacts can take at any one time, eventually. But we can come up with something until then. Make it, that is." Why yes, that could take cooperation with others of the Court.
She was looking at him with her head canted to one side. "There is only one Knight." That was, to her mind, an answer enough about standing. In a world where most power structures worked in threes, the Knight was unique. Focusing all the power - magical and, ah, 'political' - of a group into a single entity. "You are under the command of the Court. In some things you will be able to command; in others, you may be commanded." Though that was rare, and usually explicitly stated. "It would not be a good idea to abuse the command over others too much unless you do have at least tacit approval from a Queen." Along the lines of broken-promise-magical-consequences bad idea. But he was under the same protection too, on the other hand.
And as for the last part... she shifted so that her body's shape outlined more definitely against her clothes, and then rose gracefully, crossing the distance between them. In easy reach. In fact, she reached and ran her fingers lightly, barely touching over his cheekbone. "I think there may be something the learning of which could turn out to be mutually beneficial. How your power... works on us." If at all. Or in full. And what would the effects to both sides be.
He must be curious about that too. If not exactly enthusiastic about experimenting.
--
That was all quite a lot of good information. Almost more than he'd expected out of her. But then, from what little he'd seen so far, Maeve did seem rather more forthcoming than Mab. Among other things. He did like the idea of a power focus. Probably because of the 'makes him feel all manly' effect tools usually had on those of the masculine persuasion. Even if having to carry around a focus would make him more noticeable, make him stand out. Of course, he could always make sure whatever he had was...discreet. They would certainly appreciate that, he was certain.
For the second part, he merely nodded. It made sense, but it was something he'd felt compelled to...double check on his assumption. Politics among the Sidhe he knew were delicate and Thomas was more than certain the Queens would not appreciate a misstep on his part that could have been easily avoided. For that matter, he himself wouldn't care to do it as a matter of personal pride.
And then the last. He doesn't move when she approaches him, nor when she touches him, but his eyes flash silver again and his skin becomes noticeably cooler under her fingers. His smile is a lazy, self-assured one as he watches her. "I had wondered what would happen."
And now he had tacit permission so he feels no qualms about giving a bit to the Hunger, in wrapping her in his aura if not his arms.
Yet.
--
'Forthcoming' may have been a flattering way to put it, of course. 'Rash' might sometimes cover it, or 'careless'. But not in this case. Thomas was bound, and in a position that needed being filled up well and soon. This information was good for him. And oh with what he would do? He would probably repay all that was vested in him. Not her personally, necessarily. But nothing would be weighed out or forgotten.
And the foci... could be of his choosing. And probably would be, eventually.
And oh they did understand about personal reasons for doing things well. Personal pride. He'd had years, decades of experience in a delicate court. He would navigate safely enough. Until he found out what he wanted, and then he would pull strings and manipulate and of necessity let himself be manipulate in turn, just as would be proper for not only what - because a Knight did not need to, necessarily - but who he was too.
Necessity. Need. The pull washed over her, palpable, the lines of power almost visibly wrapping around her, for a moment clearly distinguishable for her before she half-closed her eyes and let herself relax into them. Perhaps if she put her mind - or power, or both - against those 'visible' threads, she could have stretched them, bent them, torn them. Possibly. But right now she didn't want to do it. Her lips parted and her breathing sped up. Not just with the lust of it. With the strength of it, the completeness of it. Oh yes, it was power all right, this Hunger. It worked through and through, brutally and subtly and enticingly all at the same time. Briefly, her head rolled back, strands of colored hair sliding along the skin of her cheek, then she straightened, and then fluidly leaned forward, palm against his cheek to meet his lips.
Not because of anything like 'it seemed like a good idea at the time'. Because it was the logical continuation. The pull of the power was quite sufficient to tip her usually strong appetites into full wakefulness. And barely out of full control. Meaning, she didn't straddle him, making their clothes start disappearing right then. But not enough to not lean for a kiss. And what a kiss...!
--
He knew, somehow, that she was choosing to let him do this to her. And there was something in that that took the edge off, made it easier to control his Hunger. She was not prey, for all she was pretending it for the moment. It served as a reminder he would remember.
But for all of that, he was willing enough to continue the charade, slipping his arms around her and kissing her in return. Deepening the sensations with his power, drawing out her lust with the same subtle care one would use with threads of blown glass. Almost unnoticeable unless one realized what he was doing because he was quite adept at making one simply not care about anything besides, for instance, the feel of his skin on theirs.
Of course it might be said he himself was quickly coming to not care about much beyond the web he was weaving around her.
--
It may have had to do with the fact that she was, after all, more Fae than woman that made her just aware of the power web. The stronger, closer it became, the brighter it could be seen if Maeve chose to look.
But she didn't. She was feeling instead.
The Sidhe were people of beauty not for nothing. Beautiful vision. Beautiful voices and music. If you got lured to eat or drink of their fare, that would be stunningly beautiful too, in its way. Beautiful to the touch.
They were so because they could perceive it more sharply so than mortals would. So the feel of his skin - cold, so luxuriously cold under her palm, against her lips, around her body - was quite the sensation to build upon.
Yes, she was aware he was still a predator whose lure was affecting her, and quite as it was supposed to. Yes, she was aware that perhaps she was risking becoming prey. And yes, perhaps that was making the rush of this even better. Because the mix between lust and draw, between want and power coursing through her? Felt genuinely - good.
She drew back for a moment. Presumably to take a breath, but maybe to just see him as he was now, so she would know. And maybe just because sight was also an important sensation. And maybe she did want that breath. Or maybe she didn't.
"I like that." So maybe there was to her tone a childish 'let's do it again!' cast. But the next word, the next word was spoken soberly, easily. A permission for the experiment - if that's what this was, to go on. Not that she wanted to pull away, nor that she cared too much. But somehow it seemed right to give permission. She was a queen, was she not?
She was in his arms, kissing him... was she not?
"Yes."
And then she was leaning and kissing him again.
--
Her reaction genuinely pleased Thomas, if only because it was a change. Something he hadn't really experienced before. And when she looks at him, his eyes are more silver than grey, even if that distinction is a subtle one. She was pleased and pleasing and willing and he hadn't truly sated himself in far too long.
And here she was, kissing him, in his arms. Ready for the taking.
So he took.
It was like nothing he'd ever tasted before. Like a quick-moving, freezing moutain stream. Lightning in his veins. Like when he accepted the mantle of Winter Knight.
There was usually such heat when he seduced a woman. This was different.
But good. Far too good.
--
Maggie felt the pull of Thomas's power almost before she set foot in the room. It was stronger than it had ever been, or at least stronger than she had ever felt. Enough to make her worry and risk interrupting him with someoe. Enough that, if he hadn't been with Maeve, she might have shouted at him, demanded to know what the hell he thought he was doing.
But this was Maggie, and she recognized the Winter Lady the moment she stepped into the room.
"Thomas." Mild. Rather like clearing her throat.
What the hell do you think you're doing?
--
The voice penetrated, soft and mild as it was. Maeve's form stilled in Thomas's arms, just breathing heavily for a moment, and the canted eyes opened as her lips lingered for a moment just brushing his. The pull was weaker now, it felt, so she didn't have that much trouble pulling back from how close they'd been pressed together in the middle of rumpling clothes and revealed skin. Yes. The touching of skin on skin had been important until instants ago. Now - absolutely regardless of the rumpled look, she was the Lady of Winter, and nothing in her motions, in the position of her body, or in her eyes would suggest that she was embarrassed. Because she wasn't.
"Margaret LeFay. Good evening to you." She was now standing besides the chair which Thomas had taken. Calm. Relaxed. It was also her ground, in a way.
--
Thomas looked up at Maggie, the chill in the air surrounding him and the paleness of his skin and eyes unmistakeable to anyone familiar with the White Court. There's a breath or two before he seems to come back to himself, as much as his Hunger may be angry at the interruption.
Many a son would be mortified to be caught thusly by his mother. Especially when his shirt is hanging half off his body and the top button of his pants appears undone. But Thomas had little shame -- if any -- where his body was concerned or just about anything he did with it. So he was quite able to meet her gaze as he stood up beside Maeve. Though he might not if he'd noticed how starkly the white outline of a snowflake stood even on the pale skin of his chest.
"Mother."
This was going to get awkward.
--
Maggie did indeed notice their state of undress. That wasn't what bothered her. She knew what her son was, what his father had been. Possibly more than the woman-shaped creature who had until so recently had her tongue down his mouth, she knew what he was. Possibly less. She had been gone for many years.
That wasn't what concerned her though. Not nearly as much as the expression on Maeve's face, too confident for Maggie's comfort though she, too, would take care not to let that discomfort show. Too relaxed. Too easy. As though she'd won a victory. And then again, as she glanced at the snowflake tattooed, branded, imprinted however it was on her son's chest (and looking there she had to fight briefly to keep his creature's instincts from locking her eyes there) she wondered maybe if that was entirely too accurate.
"Good evening," she nodded politely to the Winter Lady, because it would never do to be impolite. "I take it I was interrupting something?"
Not that that had ever stopped her.
--
Not won a victory, per se. It had not been a fight, more of a mutually agreed interaction. it was just... self-assurance. Possibly to a degree a sense of property. Not that she would be so blatant as to display it, not right now. Not very interested in confrontations now.
However... seeing the wizardess's reaction, and when it happened? That was something to remark on. Obviously Thomas had not yet revealed his newly acquired power to his mother in the time elapsed since the event. Curious. But then, mortals usually were.
"Not fully. We were conducting a small experiment. With rather interesting results on both sides, I am sure." Why yes, she was smirking. Just a tinly little bit. And she abstained from making a crass gesture of ownership such as reaching out to touch the Knight. However... "Thomas? Do you want this visit to end now?" Hah. As if he wanted what she didn't, it would precisely work out. But she could stay or go, either way, right now. There was enough to process now. And she did intend to make a show of leaving that Thomas might learn from, if he would watch carefully.
--
He watched the exchange between the two ladies, weighing his response before he spoke. Perhaps he could have taken the opportunity to straighten out his clothing but that would only draw attention. Would only make him look like he was afraid of what Maggie thought. So instead he remained as he would, standing with the sort of self-confidence one some might label arrogance. It made for an effective blind.
When Maeve directed her question to him, Thomas smiled slightly. "I think I've learned more than enough for one day." Which didn't, actually, answer what she'd asked as it didn't speak to what he wanted but...well, it was certainly true.
--
Maggie was damn well going to ask what Thomas had learned, but later. Out of the presence of the Winter Lady.
She inclined her head in something like a bow though without that level of submission or obeisance, wordlessly indicating an encouragement for Maeve to interpret that statement of dismissal. She wouldn't blatantly contradict or supersede Thomas, not in his own house. But she would indicate her own wish for this visit to end. For, ideally, any and all associations Thomas had with either of the fey courts to end, but that was a vain hope by now, wasn't it.
Stars above, she hadn't wanted this to happen. Had never wanted either of her children to become so involved with the Fey. It was bad enough that she'd made that choice for Harry, but now this...
--
Maeve's eyes narrowed with amusement.
"Well met, then," she paused for moment, as though hesitating between calling him by name or title, "Thomas of the family Raith. Perhaps it would be good to let that sink in for a while. Until then - I am sure you will find a way to get in touch if you need." They obviously would get in touch if they wanted him.
And, as far as learning was concerned - she could at least show a way he should be able to duplicate, with some effort possibly to start with, directly to where he would be attended to if and when he showed up. "Or also... Are you watching closely?" She waited for him to look at her, to get his full attention, before slowly opening a gateway to where in the land of the Sidhe he'd be welcomed.
Another smile at him (good learning, there... for both of them), and a slow, careful nod at Margaret. And she was gone. For now.
--
He did indeed watch closely. One final lesson for the day. Something he'd have to replicate. Later. Try to replicate. Though he thinks he's got it. He's crossed into the Never Never before, after all. And before she leaves, he does manage a, "thank you for your time, Lady." Never hurts to be polite (most of the time). Especially to what amounts to one's liege. And wasn't that still a weird thought?
Only once she's gone does Thomas go about casually rearranging his clothing, if only so he doesn't have to look at the expression he imagines is on Maggie's face.
--
There was certainly some sort of a something on Maggie's face. When she didn't have to guard her thoughts from showing up on her features, there was a whole lot of a something. Dismay, for a start. Disappointment. Regret as well, and fear and worry. A great deal of fear and worry. Of all the people in his family, she knew possibly even better than Raith what the Fey were capable of, and she knew what getting entangled with them could lead to. This was not a road she had wanted either of her sons to go down, but of either of them she had thought it would be more likely Harry standing here.
She took a breath and let it out slowly, tilting her head after a second to try and catch Thomas's gaze. "What happened, Thomas?" Her voice was gentle, at least, even if her eyes were slightly wild. She wasn't angry. She would have protested that she wasn't upset, but it would have been a lie.
--
"Well, it isn't every day I come home and find the Winter Lady waiting to pay me a visit, now is it?"
Which, obviously, wasn't the actual answer to the actual question she was asking but it wasn't in his nature to just make things easy. Not this sort of thing, anyway.
And he certainly wouldn't have believed her if she'd said she wasn't upset. He possibly wouldn't even believe she wasn't angry, at least a little. So it's just better all around that that hadn't come up.
--
"I don't know," she said, still gentle and calm, at least in her voice. "Is it?" Or perhaps she meant, is it going to be a regular occurrance. The Winter Lady had certainly seemed awfully at home with Thomas.
Well, perhaps no more at home than a lot of other women had been. But mortal women. Not a Fae power.
--
"I don't expect it will be, no."
More often than he ever saw the Winter Lady in the past (read: never)? Well, yes. Daily? Nope!
"Though I'm sorry you had to witness that." Which was quite possibly tinged more with sorry I was caught.
--
Maggie gave him a look of I can read your subtext. Which was possibly because she was his mother and possibly because she was good at reading subtext, and more likely a combination of the two.
"I'm sure," she murmured, which was more like I'm sure you are. "What happened, Thomas? What was that and that," she pointed at the snowflake brand. "All about?"
--
Dammit. Straight questions. And he wasn't inclined to out and out lie. Well, not to Maggie, anyway. "That," meaning Maeve's visit, "was a simple informational exchange. She wanted to tell me about some of the ways of Winter. And I-...wanted to know how the Hunger would affect one of the Sidhe." Which was true. He had wanted to know and he'd certainly liked what he had learned.
"As for the other. That was part of a bargain." Which was, likely, obvious. Why else would he have it?
And even now he was fairly certain he would make that bargain again for what it had given him.
--
"What bargain."
Maggie's voice... well, now Maggie's voice was less than gentle and closer to what one might call angry. There was steel in it, for certain. There was no edge to it, or at least, it wasn't directed at Thomas. It was most likely directed at the Winter Queen. Maggie didn't think that Maeve would have attempted something so bold on her own.
But. The Winter Queen came with her own set of dangers, dangers which she did not want either of her boys dealing with. Perhaps it was only a mother's instinct to protect her sons.
--
Perhaps there were some who would be inclined to back down a bit at the sound of that steel in Maggie's voice. Perhaps Thomas would be one of those...if he hadn't also grown up under the White King. Among many others in his life. So he merely stood there, thumbs hooked through the belt loops on his hips, his stance appearing relaxed.
He didn't, after all, care to push this into more of a fight by simple body language.
Still, he sighed. He hadn't wanted her to find out like this. Of course, it was possible he'd been irrationally hoping she wouldn't find out at all. Her or Harry. "The Winter Court was in need of a Knight."
--
Maggie's eyes widened and, certainly not for the first time in her life but possibly for the first time in front of her son, she felt her legs give way under her until she was sitting slightly splay-legged on the ground, the fingertips of one hand pressed to her forehead. Thomas. The Winter Knight. She had known that Mab was courting her boys, she wasn't surprised, really. Dismayed might be the better word.
Tired was a good one, too. Not surprised that Mab had offered, but that Thomas had accepted. There were only a few things that would get him to do that.
"What did she offer you."
--
That...hadn't been the reaction he was expecting. It worried him. He dropped into a crouch beside her, both to make sure she wasn't also looking a little too pale and so he wasn't looming towering over her.
"Justine."
He paused. Reconsidered. Or actually..."the power to use to touch her again."
It wasn't as if, after all, he'd magically had Justine living with him now that he belonged to Mab. Nor that he'd just been able to bypass the protection laid on her without figuring out how to do so himself.
--
Maggie sort of winced. "That would do it, I suppose." Of course, that had done it, but she could well imagine giving up almost anything to make Justin whole, to keep Malcolm safe. To keep her sons safe. Love was one of the most powerful forces in the universe, she had never denied that. Still...
Still, it was her son. And he was the Winter Knight, and now his loyalties were pulled in a direction she would never have had him go. Dammit.
"Well." Maggie took a breath, pretending to be easier or steadier than she was. "Done is done, I suppose." It was better than going you bloody idiot, what the hell did you think you were doing?
--
And it was something he well knew and pointing it out would only make him obstinate.
So he offered her up a crooked smile, "pretty much."
Done had to be done anyway, considering it wasn't the sort of thing she could change.
--
Still. She eyed him sideways. "I'm sure I'll yell at you later for this. Mother's perogative." Although now that she'd said that she probably wouldn't.
Not unless he went and did something even more foolish, or compounding the foolishness.
--
He opened his arms to her, "I'll practice my sulky teenager glares just for the occasion."
Which had to be at least a little funny, considering he was a grownup. Most of the time.
--
"Brat," she smiled, hugging him gently. Sadly, really. "What on earth am I going to do with you?"
--
He was that.
"This right here, this is good."
--
"Well, all right then."
And it was. For now.