Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

My handmaiden and I stood on the steps outside the stone keep known to every practitioner in Chicago as Castle Dresden or sometimes, by those of us who knew its Old World history, as Wizard’s Keep. The AllFather had assigned me to answer the call that had come from the Paranet’s answering service. When the wizard of Chicago asks for a healer and a lawyer to arrive at his home on the same day Monoc Securities is informed. The AllFather had personally assigned me to the task of "solving the seidrmeidr’s problems, whatever they might be". One does not question the AllFather even if it does mean abandoning the care of the Einherjar to underlings for the sake of one mortal wizard. One simply obeys.

Thus I found myself standing two steps down from door level as said door, beneath an actual portcullis, opened and one Harry Dresden stepped into view. His reputation was known to me through the tales of the Einherjaran, especially two of our newest recruits. Yet this was the first time I had been in his presence. He was quite the sight.

I had heard the rumors of a possible Jotun in his family tree. Yes, he was taller than average, by many inches, but my diagnostic eye told me it was purely mortal mutation.

He stood in the portal’s opening with naked feet- no, no that’s not the correct idiom- bare- bare feet. The feet were long and narrow. He had callouses along the sides. ‘Wears shoes that are too wide’ became the first notation of my differential diagnosis.

His panta- pants- no jeans were a bit short and cut too loosely to reveal the shape of his legs. Pity. They were long, his legs, not in proportion to the rest of him. In fact he looked a little as though someone had stretched him on a rack or like that toy from the era of his childhood, Stretch Armstrong? or perhaps as if Reed Richards had not returned to normal after one of his adventures. Even his navel appeared elongated. It was clearly visible above the belted waist of his dark wash jeans because the mustard yellow and black plaid flannel shirt he wore had yet to be buttoned. A narrow stripe of well toned, pale flesh was revealed in the gap created by his left arm resting on the lintel of the door. His skin was firm, not sagging and appeared to have healthy elasticity. His abdomen was not overly defined but was slightly concave which means his muscles were taut and his leanness was a natural state. He wasn’t malnourished. The pale tracing of old scars and the pink of newer ones could be glimpsed in that same gap, as well as well defined pectoral muscles. 'Some form of exercise is performed regularly. Thin but well muscled. Not obviously ravaged by age or disease. A man in his prime’ were added to my notations.

His face too is longish with a strong jaw. Deep set eyes of a dark brown- I couldn’t decide whether to describe them as walnut or mahogany. More importantly, the schlera and cornea are clear, though the pupils seemed perhaps a little slow to react.. Here too were old scars. A warrior mage then. So that part of the rumor mill was accurate.

I idly thought, ‘A kiss from me upon that full lower lip will fade that particular scar to nothingness.’ His face is too strong for prettiness, the angles too sharp. Yet, it seems a shame to blunt his visceral masculine appeal with such stark and glaring marks. Yet, if they remained on a wizard they must have meaning to him. Still I determined to fade them as much as he would permit.

I could see the bulge of his bicep against the thin flannel of the raised left arm. The sleeves of the shirt were rolled to the elbows revealing sinewy forearms. A well crafted shield bracelet with 8 to 10 charms hung from the left wrist. The hand beyond the bracelet was closed in a soft fist which did not hide the scars there, burn scars. His hair too was dark brown, not quite black and still damp. I saw- yes, a glint of silver, perhaps one hair in 10,000. He will gray stunningly I thought. All of this was the observation of mere seconds.

Then he spoke and the sheer power of his magic, a mere drop of the whole was revealed in his baritone voice. It sounded as smooth as velvet to my ear.

“Good morning ladies and gentlemen. What may I do for you today?” It was then, with a start, that I realized what I wasn’t seeing. His aura clung a bare half-inch from his skin. Yet the magic in his voice told me this mage’s aura should be nearly blinding me. Either his control was masterful beyond his years or his ‘problem’ was deadly!

“I’m Dr. Coopersmith,” my mortal handmaiden offered along with her hand.

Dresden acknowledged the introduction with a nod but no other movement. “I wasn’t expecting an entourage,” he growled.

“Allow me to introduce my assistant, Nurse Eir,” she indicated me with one age spotted hand. Bea is a slightly stooped but spritely 70 mortal years; sinewy and strong in body; forcefully no nonsense and sharp in personality with green, intelligent eyes and silver gray hair styled in a soft bun. Her face is lined and wise.

“Eyre as in Jane?” the wizard queried.

“Eir Sorenson,” I corrected with a shake of my head.

“Were your parents Wiccan?” he asked with a one cornered quirk of his wideish mouth. The stone mask his face had been until now softened. Micro-expressions flitted across it in a running commentary. Pain, nervousness, a bit of fear. ‘This man should never play poker,’ I noted.

“My parents are proud of their Norse heritage,” I replied.

A look touched his eyes, an old pain. I could not place its origin at that moment.

“Eir, goddess of healing,” he hummed, “and you’re a nurse. Predestination?”

“Perhaps,” I conceded with a smile and a lowering of my chin.

“And the wizards?” Dresden turned again to Bea. This time there was challenge in his voice.

“Wizard Listens to Wind is a colleague. Your case sounded challenging. I thought I might need his advice and assistance.” Bea was standing her ground, challenging right back.

“I know who they are.” Dresden growled. “So you invited both of them?”

“Noooo,” Bea hedged.

Dresden turned to address the aged wizard directly. “You knew it was me you were ‘consulting’ about. Are you here for the council?”

“Healer first. HIPPA applies even to the Council,” Listens to Wind responded. “I’m here for you, Hoss Dresden.”

“For me or for him?” the seidrmeidr pushed, indicating the fourth person on his doorstep.

“Both,” replied the ancient healer.

“Hmmm,” Dresden grunted. “Then you three, please come in.” He invited. I was happy to see that he trusted Listens to Wind. That boded well for his treatment. Trust is necessary between patient and healer.

“And me Hoss?” I heard a plea in the voice of Ebenezar McCoy.

Dresden stood 3/4 profile to the doorway now. Even in the shaded entry I could clearly see another pain play across his face. This pain was fresh and raw. “Neither of the Blackstaff’s are welcome under this roof,” he ground out, a slight tremor in his words.

“How about your grandfather?” the wizard in the overalls asked softly.

“Do I still have one of those? Does my brother?” Dresden snapped, hot anger so near the surface that his aura flared. So not control then. Deadly problem, I diagnosed

“You do,” emphasis on the you.

“And Thomas?” the younger wizard demanded.

A huge sigh escaped the older wizard. “Maybe he will.” A grudging acknowledgement. “Can I?” he gestured to the opening with his free hand. He too held a staff. It wasn’t black.

“Can you?” Dresden shot back. Irritation was heavy in his tone. Entering without an invitation would be problematic for even a member of the Senior Council as McCoy is. The threshold here was centuries old and the younger wizard had already tied himself to it with bonds as strong as steel. There were also wards as ancient as the stones themselves and guardians.

McCoy pushed through. I could feel his magic being held at the door. Not all of it, but enough that he would be unable to challenge our host magically.

“Maggie needs picking up at 3. If you’d like to see her I could make a couple of calls.” Dresden sighed conceding a point I didn’t understand. Some family quarrel as yet unresolved, obviously.

“Yes, please,” his grandfather smiled.

Dresden gave a nod, another sigh and turned toward the interior. He turned his back on four acknowledged magic users; three of whom were in full possession of their power! Was he that trusting, that stupid or that supremely confident? I doubted even the AllFather would have that much confidence. He cannot know, yet, who I truly am. I had given him enough hints, I thought.

Dresden lead us to a sparsely furnished but bright room. The outer wall of stone had been left untreated except that clear glass had been inserted into the arrow slits, each opening was augmented by steel security shutters. The arched opening to the exterior had been fitted with a steel security door which stood open letting light pour through a glass storm door. The floor was the same stone as the outer wall, polished to a soft glow. A large round rug of cream and sage green covered most of the empty floor space in front of a desk. Behind the desk a carved stone fireplace was flanked by a bell pull and shelves that covered the other three walls from waist high to ceiling. Closed cabinetry covered the rest of the walls from waist to floor. Two chairs sat in front of the desk, one behind. In the center of the large circular rug sat an antique wooden Dr.’s examining table. Dresden slid one hand over the polished surface.

“My newest acquisition,” he informed us,” a few the wyldfae found it for me last night.”

He placed his staff on top of the desk and turned to face us. “Whenever, you’re ready, Doc.” he said perching on the desk’s edge.

“Disrobe to your undergarments, please,” Bea ordered. Dresden blushed slightly but complied without complaint.

Grey knit boxers that clung to runner’s thighs I noted.

For the next hour Wizard McCoy paced as the rest of us poked, prodded, pricked and probed every inch of Harry Dresden. He obeyed each and every one of our instructions and requests quietly and with only a modicum of wizardly grumpiness. When Bea and Listens to Wind finished he lay back on the examining table panting as if he’d run a marathon. While we three medicos formed a circle as far from him as we could manage to ‘confer’ Wizard McCoy attempted a conversation with the Wizard of Chicago. But said wizard curled himself into a ball and promptly began to snore softly.

Now that I had an inkling as to his condition I was less stunned by what would otherwise be a reckless disregard for personal safety. If you are already doomed to die, why not be insouciant?

I had used my role as a nurse to create as much physical contact as possible intending to heal him without his knowledge. That however, was not possible. He was not ill. He was cursed and he knew it. What did he want? All this I whispered to my handmaiden while Dresden restored his energy through sleep.

Under the guise of waking our patient I ran my hands through his wild and unruly hair. Doing so allowed me a glimpse into his mind, which though laden with many painful memories, was remarkably whole. Especially under the current stressful circumstances.

“Mr. Dresden, the doctor has a few more questions for you,” I all but whispered into his ear.

He stirred. A reluctant groan escaped his lips. He blinked, stretched and forced himself into a sitting position.

“How did you come to be so cursed, Mr. Dresden?” my handmaiden asked in her most stern and commanding tone.

“Is that relevant to my prognosis?” the wizard challenged. How like the sons of Odin he is. Is that why the AllFather likes him? Because of the resemblance to his own?

“I won’t know until you answer the question,” Bea stated flatly.

Dresden- no, Harry. I know him well enough to know that is his preferred term of address. My touch reveals much. Only a soul gaze would tell me more, but he is wary of those.

“Well,” he reached behind himself and adjusted the table to make sitting against it more comfortable, “I sort of stumbled into a bad pocket of the Nevernever. It was like swimming in dark magic, BLACK magic. The entities in it were incorporeal and quite angry at my presence. I managed to deflect most of the strikes but one got through,” he shivered. “They all had the smell of death curses.”

“One of you Senior Council members can report that. I’ve marked the area with warning beacons. Though I doubt anyone else will just stumble across it….. So doc, what’s the prognosis?”

“You already know that, Mr. Dresden. Why am I here?” my handmaiden demanded.

“To tell me what I can expect as the curse progresses, to estimate what time I have left, to tell me how to manage the symptoms and, if possible, to revive me after the curse runs its course.” He’d been ticking the points off on his fingers.

“You didn’t expect a treatment, a cure?” I inquired.

“Nope,” he popped the ‘p’ quite loudly. “As far as the curse, I’ve already consulted an expert who explained that it’s tied to my heartbeat. The only way to break it is for my heart to stop beating.” McCoy gasped audibly and the wizard healer grasped his shoulder. Harry cast a side eyed glance in their direction.

“Do you expect me to treat this curse?” Bea asked much more softly.

“Not treat it,” Harry said shaking his head. He folded himself into a pretzel, knees up, forearms resting on those knees. “Just help me hide the symptoms as long as possible. I don’t want to worry my children until I have to and maybe help me hide them long enough so that I can ‘die’ peacefully in my bed this time.”

“This time?!” Bea exclaimed while the rest of us just gasped.

“Yeah,” Harry dropped his forehead onto his arms. “Well the first time, I-um, I had backup on hand and I wasn't down for more than a minute or two. So not technically ‘dead’,” a little emphasis on dead, “but the second time,” he exhaled loudly while rubbing a puckered round scar on his chest, “sniper bullet to the chest, out of body experiences, coma, multiple ressuscitations, the whole enchilada. So This time it could be three strikes and I’m out but I’m hoping for third time lucky.”

“Hoss,” McCoy choked out. Harry turned his face away from the older wizard. There was pain on both their faces.

“How long do you think I have?” Harry rasped.

“When were you cursed?” Bea asked.

“Yesterday morning,” he mumbled.

Bea shook her head and rubbed a hand down her face.

“Give it to me straight, doc,” Harry quipped.

“With actual treatment, perhaps three weeks. At the speed of progression, without treatment, days or perhaps only hours.”

For the first time Harry looked taken aback. “I’d better get busy then,” he whispered. “Um,” he raised his volume slightly, “My chances of resuscitation?”

“Depends entirely on how long after your heart stops that the curse breaks. Under a minute I’d say a 70% chance but the odds drop markedly every 20 seconds thereafter.” Poor Bea she hated delivering news this bad to a patient. She was trying to be emotionless and stoic but as her own mortal demise drew nearer this type of news was harder and harder to say.

Wizard McCoy groaned loudly sinking into one of the chairs by the desk.

“Guess you won’t have to keep that promise to me about filling me in on the info I wanted if the curse gets its way, huh, Injun Joe?” Harry said glaring at his elder. “Who gets to make the Merlin’s day? Or have you got Wardens patrolling outside that you can dispatch?” There was great bitterness in the young wizards voice now.

And he was so very young, not even a half century old. Barely out of his teens by wizard standards. Yet he had fought more battles and suffered more loss and trauma than most wizards would see in their whole lifetime.

“No one will report anything until the matter is concluded one way or the other.” Listens to Wind averred. “McCoy will remain as the official witness. He can report as much as the Council needs to know when the curse is completed. I must return to Edinburgh,” Injun Joe said shaking his friends shoulder, holding him upright in the chair, “but I will say nothing to anyone. If all goes well the Council need only know that you visited Maggie.”

“What have you told the Baron about your presence in Chicago?” Harry asked in a wary tone.

“Nothing yet, and we needn’t tell him anything at the moment,” McCoy answered.

“Best if he doesn’t know anything until the last diplomatically allowable moment under present circumstances,” Harry agreed.”I want this kept as quiet as possible, for as long as possible. In fact I’m invoking HIPPA and forbidding anyone in this room to reveal anything about my condition until I’m bed bound.”

“By then you will be within a few hours of the end,” Bea stated, nodding.

“Exactly,” retorted the gangely wizard as he unfolded himself and descended from the examining table.

“Wizard Dresden-“ Bea began.

“I’m not entitled to that honorific,” Harry spat.

“You are the Wizard of Chicago. What other title do you think applies?” Bea asked acerbically. "Or does the White Council think it can dictate even the speech and attitudes of those whom they otherwise choose to ignore? YOU were a co-founder of the Paranet and I am a member. YOU are our model of what a wizard should be, in everything but discretion.” Bea’s eyes were shooting daggers at the other two wizards in the room, daring them to object.

“Oh,” gulped Harry, staring wide-eyed and blushing at my handmaiden, “um, thanks?” he mumbled.

“As I was saying, Wizard Dresden, I have a practice to run, I will be unable to attend you further. I assign palliative care to my assistant. She will be with you continually until…” she swallowed hard, bowing her head momentarily. She shook Dresden’s hand firmly, briskly and exited the room.

“Oh,” Harry said looking at me in the same dumbfounded way, “you mean you’re starting now.” I nodded, “Well, um, you know, I’ve got another appointment and calls and arrangements to make.”

“I can help you with any explanations you might need to make,” I offered with a rueful smile.

“Okay,” he grunted, “if you can handle dealing with fae and White Court and other sundry non-humans.”

“Not a problem,” I assured him. Was he smirking?

He quickly redressed. This time the shirt was buttoned enough to cover the silver pentacle medallion he’d refused to remove, but his feet were still uncovered. He padded over to the bell pull and gave it a tug. A faint tinkling could be heard in the distance. Almost immediately the door opened to reveal a tall, blocky figure in a morning coat and winged collar. The man, or so he appeared to be, was massive, taller even than Dresden. Above the collar the face was also blocky, a bit gray and he appeared to have a flat top. He strode to the wizard’s side and in a gravely basso voiced rumble, “You rang?”

Harry grinned widely, “Nice one, Klaxon.” He fist bumped with the butler. “Klaxon, see to it that Nurse Eir is given the run of the place and made to feel comfortable. She’ll be with us for a day or two.”

“Yes, master,” he lisped.

“Oh and Nurse Eir?”

“Yes?”

“My major domo here will need the address for the doc’s fee.”

“No Wizard Dresden..” I began.

“Nonsense.” he interrupted, “‘The workman is worthy of his, or her, hire…’ but if she wants to give a friends and family discount…,” he gestured widely spreading his hands and shrugging.

I smiled, with teeth, “Have it your way.” I winked.

His eyes twinkled just a bit. Listens to Wind stifled a snicker of his own before following the hulking Lurch-like figure from the room.

“What-?” Wizard McCoy began.

“Came with the castle,” Dresden interjected, “Sworn to defend it and it’s ‘ruling’ family with their very existence. I’ve defined that family for them very narrowly; just me and Maggie.”

“Not the spirits?, McCoy gripped the arms of his chair with whitened knuckles.

“I’ve given them other protections,” Harry didn’t elaborate. Just glared at the Blackstaff.

“Where were those creatures during the Battle?” McCoy’s brogue grew stronger in distress, I noticed.

“In stasis. Apparently no one told Marcone how to awaken them. Perhaps his new buddy isn’t up on his Celtic Runes.” Dresden glanced toward me with a wry grin.

“And who told you?” McCoy demanded.

“Alfred helped me translate the runes and sigils and I worked it out all. by. myself. ‘Cause I’m a big boy now. I have to be.” both sarcasm and bitterness fairly dripped from his words. “I will protect my own.” The last sentence was a vehement hiss and again I felt the power of his magic. “Now, if you’ll excuse me I’ll go make those calls. You sir,” a sharp intake of breath came from McCoy and Harry winced, “can hang out in here. Ring for Klaxon if you need anything. Eir…”

“I’ll just blend into the woodwork until I’m needed,” I assured him.

“Huh,” Harry grunted, “I”m sure you will.” And he left us.

I gave the elder wizard’s shoulder a pat. From that one touch I knew that, though there was no sickness or weakness in the Senior Council member, his days were growing short, relatively speaking. He would be gone before the next century dawned. I also knew that heartache plagued him. I cannot heal the ravages of time except for the Einherjar. Nor can I heal the sicknesses of the heart, but I can help. I whispered a few options in his ear. He nodded and spoke of his most current pain.

“My boy?” he whispered on a sob.

“I can do little for him at present. I cannot break this curse, but when it is broken…” I shrugged a single shoulder. “I will do my best for him.” That is all the assurance I could give.

“There is hope?” he almost begged.

“Where there is life; there is always hope.” I could feel a little of his pain and tension ease. Yet, as I left him, he stayed seated staring into an abyss where he pictured.. no remembered his grandson dead and his great-grandchild lost to him forever.

I spent about an hour reconnoitering; memorizing the floor plan, introducing myself to the staff and guardians. Gargoyles amusingly enough. Then I went in search of my patient. I had ascertained his physical state during our exam and assured myself he was mentally stable, but now I wanted to clarify his wishes. I had felt much conflict within him.

Healing the body is so much easier than dealing with the mind. The body has systems that are always trying to repair itself. These can be augmented, enhanced, sped up. Even those diseases which turn the body's defenses against itself can be short-circuited if one knows how. A wizards recuperative powers are exponentially better than the average mortals. In theory this should be a walk in the park. But curses- How I hate working with curses.

But healing the mind, the emotions. So much more difficult to manage. I can help the healing along but, ultimately, the mind and emotions can only be truly healed by the patient's own will.

I had glimpsed the crushing weight of his sorrows, his losses, his painful memories. I’d felt the eroding, invasive force of his fears. I had seen the shadow of scars on his very soul. I had also felt a touch of his power, his bright center. I had seen how this might end. I know I can give him a gem of hope. Will it be enough to conquer his darkness if he survives this curse?

The AllFather has instructed me to promote Dresden’s survival in Midgard as long as possible and to the limits of my power. I too find the youngling wizard interesting but why must he remain in Midgard? That is beyond my ken.

I threw a veil over myself and went in search of my patient.

Chapter Text

I found the wizardling in his bright little office, lit by sunlight filtering through the glass in the outer wall and candles on every flat surface. He was just adding his signature to the last of three missives and was issuing delivery instructions to an equal number of largish dewdrop faeries.

“Toot, I’d take it as a great favor if you’d deliver this to her majesty personally,” Harry spoke to a fairy about 18 inches in height.

“You have but to command, my Lord Knight sir,” ‘Toot’ responded with a sharp salute that sent a cloud of lavender dust all over the desk.

“So scoot, Major General, time’s a wasting.”

The mageling made shooing motions with his hands and the dewdrops vanished even as he spoke. He leaned back in a mass market black vinyl chair and rubbed his eyes with his thumb and forefinger. He sagged tiredly and closed his eyes. In that instant one of the gargoyles appeared at my elbow.

Well, so he had reason to be supremely confident in his protections. I wondered just how many of the guardians he had inherited, how many more were tied to the stones that I had not discerned? There was nothing here that could harm me but I could be quite easily expelled. That would not do.

The gargoyle stood silent just watching me. So I asked, “What are you called guardian?”

The creature still didn’t speak. His answer was thought to me; a single runic symbol I translated as ‘Kaos’. I nodded and continued watching his master until I heard a soft almost snore. The man had fallen asleep in mere seconds. He was already exhausted again. This curse is working quickly.

I turned to the gargoyle. He appeared to be cut from granite. His eyes were the same color as his skin. His pupils appeared as small holes cut into the stony surface of his eye which was also gray. He thought an image to me of him standing over the wizard asleep in his bed, fending off shadows with tooth, claw and an iron sword. This was his purpose, his calling. I thought mine back to him. He nodded to me.

I accepted his permission and crossed to the sleeping man’s side. I pulled a box of books close to his side and perched upon it. I touched my fingers lightly to the back of his scarred left hand.

First I checked his heart again. It still beat strongly and in normal rhythm but I could feel that the energy it took to keep that rhythm was increasing infinitesimally with each and every beat. Yet he still hadn’t begun to draw upon Winter’s mantle for that energy.

Good! Winter would protect him only briefly. Indeed, without Mab’s direct intervention, the mantle would desert him if he could not be healed. I must warn Mab that to attempt to preserve her Knight, as she clearly had in the past, would destroy the muscle and undo any chance of resuscitation. I need the muscle to stay strong. I can restore an uninjured muscle far more easily and quickly. Speed would be of the essence in this instance. The wizard had been wise to waive mortal medicine. The wisdom of instinct over knowledge.

What is this power I sense in him? There is something of fate about this seidrmeidr: something, some power beyond his magic, beyond Winter’s mantle, behind his human will; all of which are as formidable as I have ever touched. I do not recognize it. I have not touched its like before.

Next, I examined his mind. It was, as I had noticed before, remarkably sound despite the marks left by uncountable attempts to control it. The White Court marks are most numerous and most recent, though not the darkest or the deepest. I almost laughed. If anyone thought to win a war of attrition, to erode his defenses through constant bombardment and repetition, they were mistaken. Each attempt thickened the scars making him stronger, more resistant not less. Soon he would be immune to those weapons.

That will stand him in good stead as he is to enter into a political marriage with one of the White Court. Yes, it will please the AllFather to know the wizard will keep his own mind and will if that occurs.

Indeed, even Winter’s mantle will eventually bend to the wizard’s will rather than the reverse. I think this too will please the AllFather.

I wonder if Mab knows. Is this why she pursued this wizard so doggedly? Is this why she toyed with Slate for so long even though it weakened her court? Does she know? Did she always know this wizard would control the Mantle instead of being controlled by it? Would any wizard suffice or only this wizard, the one with the power I do not recognize?

Lastly, I examined his Odr, what mortal medicine calls his psyche and the followers of The White God call his soul. Here there is also much damage; many deep and lasting scars and quite a few still bleeding wounds. Yet when I examine the largest, freshest, deepest wound I saw his Psyche and I saw how she could offer him hope and healing. Not complete healing, that would take enormous conscious effort on his part, but enough for him to survive his current crisis.

Perhaps enough to sustain this very young wizard through the span of his mortal days.

Yes, this will increase his odds significantly. He may not entirely want to continue this life but with this knowledge and what I can reveal he may be more willing to do so. Also, his child- yes, she will keep him anchored here in Midgard where the AllFather insists he needs to remain.

I stood. The wizard stirred. The first of the fae returned. Kaos retreated as Harry opened his eyes. He did not start to see me standing over him.

“Get what you needed?” he inquired glancing to where I still touched his hand. I nodded.

The rest of the fae also returned. They conferred for the span of a few seconds and the largest, Toot, spoke.

“Za Lord Knight of Winter,” he began with a salute.

Dresden saluted in return, “Your report, Major General Maximus?”

“Mother Winter,” and the poor mite shivered, “thanks you for your attempt at courtesy, but requires you not to bother her with such trivial matters in future.”

“Ohhh-kay,” Harry drawled while making a go on gesture with one hand. “The Lady will attend at the time specified. She will report to the Queen,” the little soldier finished with another salute.

“Thank you, dismissed Major General,” Harry responded with a fond expression. Then he reached for the phone; a large, heavy black item that would have looked at home in a 1940’s film noire and dialed a number with the ease of frequent repition.

“Yeah, Lara, can you come to the Castle at 2 pm today?” We have to talk,” he paused briefly. Then with a touch of wheedling in his voice he said, “Klaxon will serve tea.”

Another pause, “Not a frivolous request Lara,” his voice flattened becoming strong with a hint of command. “I need to tell you something and I won’t do it over the phone or at Chateau Raith.”

“Well, if you want Molly to know before you do..”

“See you then.” he clattered the receiver into its rest with a shake of his head and a long-suffering sigh. “This’ll be fun.” I could spread sarcasm that thick with a spoon.

“I’m gonna take Eb to lunch after I’ve made arrangements for him to pick Maggie up after school.” He chose to inform me.

“Is that wise, Wizard Dresden?” I kept my tone soft and without challenge.

He flicked his eyes to mine meeting them for a mere heartbeat. “Explain please,” he kept his tone neutral, respectful. His hand still rested on the phone. He sat back letting his fingers trail over the mechanism before resting them on the edge of the desk.

“There is clearly some emotionally stressful situation between the two of you. If you dine with him you will, most likely, elevate your heart rate during your discourse.”

“And? he flicked his eyes to mine for another beat.

“Every single beat is draining your energy. Faster heart rate equals faster depletion of energy equals…”

“Faster heart stoppage.” Harry finished the thought. “Well,” he sighed unhappily, “I guess that one can wait until after I’ve talked to Maggie. It’s unlikely to alter anything anyway.”

“I can answer his questions concerning your current malady if you’d like,” I offered. I’d already done that but I still wanted him to avoid an emotional confrontation at this point. The curse was moving faster than expected. No need to hurry it along. He still had a few arrangements to make, beings to inform.

“That… would be … helpful, I think,” He sighed yet again.

“Are you having trouble breathing, Wizard Dresden?”

“No,” he rubbed his chest just to the left of his heart. I wondered if the scar bothered him or if it was a nervous gesture he'd picked up.

“Are there any limits you want to place on my conversation with…. Wizard McCoy?” He noticed my pause, my near slip.

“You know, don’t you?” suspicion edged into his tone.

“The relationship is in the blood,” I responded with what I hoped was a disarming shrug. “You come of strong stock.”

“So, you’re Not just named after her. You are her. Eir, Norse goddess of healing,” his eyes were wide as a child’s. His hands now gripped the arms of his chair with white knuckles as if he were holding himself down. He was panting. His voice was a hoarse whisper. I smiled a benign smile basking in his awe.

“Be calm my dear Harry. I do not wish to shorten your preparation time. But yes, I am indeed the being you believe me to be.” I cupped his chin in my hand and felt him relax into my touch. I swept my thumb across his lower lip softening the scar there to almost invisibility as I had promised myself I would.

Harry, jerked back from my grasp. “Hey,” he protested, “Leave my scars alone!”

“You wish to keep them because they are the marks of your victories?”

“Of my mistakes,”

“No little wizard, of your survival. Do not fret. I did not remove your scar. It yet remains. I but lightened it, in order that it should not distract me from my purpose during your revival.”

Harry blushed and gulped, ‘You’re going to …" he waved a hand in a circle around his lips.

I leaned forward and whispered, “I will capture your last breath and breathe it back into you at the appropriate time.” I again touched the back of his scarred left hand. Without removing the appearance of said scars I restored elasticity to the skin thereby returning it to full function.

As he once again relaxed, I stroked a finger over his chin and down his throat. “I think sweet seidrmeidr that I shall prevail upon Braggi to gift you the one thing you lack to secure your place in Valhalla."

“What’s that?” Harry asked bemusedly.

“A singing voice,” I purred. “The calluses on your fingers tell me you already play a stringed instrument. With a singing voice you will be both seidrmeidr and bard”

“What makes you think I’ll end up in Valhalla?” Harry scowled at me.

“Because you wish it,” I averred, stepping back from my patient. This last little test had cemented my treatment path. I knew his fidelity and his truths. I decided I would prevail upon Braggi to gift him his voice now and not wait for Valhalla. A wedding gift.

“I go to speak with Wizard McCoy,” I said as I turned to the door.

“Yeah, okay, just tell him whatever you think he needs to know,” Harry replied as he reached again for the phone.

I almost asked him to clarify that statement, but I knew his heart now. If I could plant seeds that would promote healing in their relationship, I would. I’m all about healing.

I took Wizard McCoy to lunch. I explained to him how the curse was currently working and how I expected the end of it to play out. Having been given tacit permission to do so, I explained some of Harry’s psychological issues and how they were affecting him at present. I tried to inform him without emotion in order to forestall defensiveness or guilt. He needed to play those responses out in his own mind before he could fully accept his errors.

“Now that Harry is a father himself he has accepted that you had the best of intentions and had no foreknowledge of the consequences. He will forgive but never forget. He is, I believe, beginning to accept that those unintended consequences have formed him into the man he is.”

“You will both have to accept that Harry’s feelings of betrayal are because of the standard you set for him when he was under your tutelage. You set an ideal and an outlook that gave a broken boy a lifeline when he felt as if he were drowning. Then the ideal, the progenitor of the standard proved to have feet of clay.”

“McCoy, can you assist Harry in saving your other grandson, or at least your great-grandchild?”

The man growled. Was it only the death of his daughter that had provoked such a hatred of the White Court?

“If you can achieve one or both of those things, Harry will forgive any and everything else. I see that path clearly.” I had pointed the way. I could not make either of them walk along it.

The older a mortal becomes the less flexible, the less able to change they are. Wizards remain adaptable longer than ordinary mortals but McCoy is old even by wizard standards.

“Is Harry important enough to you, valuable enough to you that you can forgive this hated being? Can you admit that the boy can’t help what he is? Can you accept that your estrangement from your daughter is part of what prevented Margaret from being able to rescue her son from the White Court? That had you intervened the lad may never have become the monster he is?” I had planted the seed. It’s all I could do. It’s in McCoy’s hands to nurture the plant or neglect it.

We returned to the castle close to 1:30. We were admitted by Klaxon still in his Lurch-like appearance. I was invited in. McCoy was allowed to enter.

“Don’t get comfortable,” Harry called as he walked to meet McCoy in the grand hall. “It’s going to take you a good hour in this traffic to get to Maggie’s school. You’ll need to be there at least 15 minutes early so security can vet you, even with the heads up I’ve given them. Here are directions and a paper map. Do you want me to send a guide with you ? Ellide is available. She’s good and unobtrusive.”

McCoy simply nodded while reaching for the offered papers.

“Don’t freak out when you meet security. They’re Einherjar.” Harry prattled on. “Irwin will escort Maggie and Mouse to the truck. He’s River Shoulders’ kid. I’m kind of a Dutch uncle to him. He and his wife, Connie, help me with Maggie sometimes. She’s unaligned White Court. So mind your manners. She and Irwin are exclusive. You know, monogamous.”

“Wh-“ McCoy began, but thought better of his intended comment and simply said, “Okay Hoss. I won’t embarrass Maggie.”

Harry gave McCoy a quizzical stare, but decided to respond with simply, “Okay, good. You’d better head on out.”

They exchanged another tense glance. Much was communicated though no words were spoken. McCoy reached out, pulling Harry into a brief hug before turning on his heel and exiting the castle again. Harry blinked rapidly several times. He swiped at his eyes with thumb and forefinger. He watched McCoy’s retreating back, unmoving until the door closed behind the older wizard.

He sighed with obvious relief. “Come on Eir, let’s get ready for those other entities I have to inform.”

He offered me his arm. That was a chivalrous gesture I had not experienced in some time. Einherjar are known for their powers in battle not good manners.

We crossed the cavernous hall arm in arm, our footsteps creating echoes as we walked under a large cut glass -not crystal- chandelier lit with myriad candles. Harry, noticing my upward glance informed me, “That’s a housewarming gift from some wyldfae. I threw an impromptu pizza party to avoid any obligation. I still haven’t been fully briefed on all the protocol of the Winter Court. Everybody just forgets that the mortal representative wasn’t Born with the innate knowledge of all the rules and regulations. If I survive this I’m going to have to find a way to insist that the Knight needs a trainer.”

I winked at him. “Very wise, Sir Knight. And the replica of the Rose Window?”

“Another housewarming gift from some friends of my guardians. They live in Notre Dame. Seems it’s more for them than for me. If you look closely though, you’ll see some names etched in the outer ring. It’s kind of a memorial.” Harry blinked rapidly again.

“Karrin, Nathan, Bill, Yoshi,” I read aloud. “You’ve left room for others,” I remarked.

“I hope those spots stay blank, but certain fates remain uncertain.”

His look was grim. I tightened my grip on his arm. He patted my clasped hand with his free one, giving me a wan but grateful smile as he did so. We passed under the grand stair case’s window gallery to a series of intricately carved double doors along the back wall of the hall. We stood in front of the pair furthest to the right.

“My carpenter insisted on keeping all the original doors and arched openings. Better for my back he says, less stooping under lintels. I think he just wanted to flex his craft muscles, so to speak. Real old fashioned craftsmanship. The guardians helped him recreate the carvings on the doors that had to be replaced. Besides the carvings make adding wards and runes easier and less stylistically jarring. Wait until you see what they did for Maggie’s bedroom. She got to contribute to the design. So, of course, she loves it.”

This door opened onto a cozy dining room decorated in turquoise, yellow and white. With a larger table the room could have accommodated perhaps twelve. However, it contained a round table with slightly oversized and rather comfortable looking chairs offset towards one corner of the room and an assortment of wing back chairs clustered by the fireplace. There was a tea table and several side tables intermingling with these.

Klaxon and another servant who appeared as a female in jeans and a polo shirt of cadet blue with the words Staff and Castle Dresden embroidered on the left chest in lieu of a pocket, were setting up an actual tea setting though the cups and teapot weren’t from the same set. A plate of finger sandwiches and an assortment of tarts and other pastries on a tea tower were added to the table. There was cream and lemon slices and sugar and honey to choose from as well.

“Eir, if you want to help keep my heart rate at a steady pace you’ll have to help me keep these two ladies calm. They don’t really like each other that well, though they have to work together. The Winter Lady doesn’t approve of Mab choosing my consort on general principle and doesn’t approve of this particular choice in any case. Lara, my f- fiancé’,” I caught the slight stumble over the word, “isn’t too thrilled with this arrangement either, but she’s happy enough to accept it for political expediency. Each knows how the other feels and it makes them, er, testy? with each other. So please, help me keep them from coming to actual blows?” Harry was almost pleading.

“And you seidrmeidr, how do you feel about your upcoming nuptials?” I asked sotto voce.

“Like a mouse between three cats,” he grinned wryly. “I mean, Molly’s mostly on my side in really wishing we could find another solution. Lara-“ he sighed, “I’m not sure if there’s anything other than expediency in this for her or not. I mean, she’s made it pretty clear she’s looking forward to the -um- physical requirements,” he blushed prettily, “We have some common goals and we both have strong feelings about family, but marriage? Mab, I don’t have a clue what She’s thinking. She plays a long game, I don’t know why she thinks a political marriage is the way to cement this alliance. For all I know she expects me to blow the whole thing up. I mean, my track record with relationships is hardly stellar. Hell, if Karrin had lived….” I heard the wistfulness in those words as his voice trailed off.

He released my arm. A look of infinite sorrow flooded his eyes as he stared down at the tea things, ostensibly examining the lay out.

“Thank you Klaxon, Klarion. That’ll do. Hey, where’d we get a silver teapot?”

“It belongs to the stones,” Klaxon replied innocently, “I reclaimed it.”

“You took it back from Marcone?” Harry gaped.

“Unnecessary, Master, that which belongs to the stones always returns when required if it still exists.”

“You mean, it just showed up on it’s own?”

“Precisely, Master.”

“Does Marcone or anyone in his organization know about this?”

“No Master.”

“Hmm, this could be interesting.”

“The uniform?” I asked with an upraised eyebrow.

Harry shrugged, “Don’t ask me. I gave them free reign over their mortal disguises. I think Klaxon does the whole Lurch thing because he knows I get a kick out of it.” I shot him a questioning glance. “What can I say? I’m easily amused and I love pop culture references. But you know that or you wouldn’t have done the BK catch phrase earlier. Or was that an accident?”

“That would be telling,” and I winked at him.

“Well, anyway, the first time Klarion put on a disguise she looked like a Frederick’s of Hollywood model in a french maid’s costume. The hotel staff look is SO much better.”

“Indeed,” I chuckled at the visual that popped into my head. Klaxon returned and announced, “Ms. Raith,” his voice taking on a sepulchral tone.

Harry plastered a tense smile on his face as he turned toward the sound, squaring his shoulders as if steeling himself for an ordeal. I stepped over and took his wrist, monitoring his pulse. It had increased.

“Perhaps I should speak to the ladies. I do not want you unduly stressed.”

“No,” he said, steel in his voice as he snatched his wrist away.

The lady cast a cool, appraising eye over the scene as she crossed to room to lay a possessive hand around Harry’s bicep. “That sounded too much like an order. You’ll find Harry instinctively rebels against orders of any kind.” she opined in a sultry, husky alto as she continued to assess me.

“Who is this Harry?” she asked with a tiny note of testiness.

“This is Eir Sorenson, my nurse,” Harry offered. His voice steady even as Lara’s perfectly manicured fingernails were stroking up and down his arm languorously. “Eir, allow me to introduce Lara Raith, unacknowledged Queen of the White Court of vampires and my betrothed.”

Lara shot a sharp look at Harry before extending her right hand to me. “How do you do?” This time her polite response was laden with curiosity. We touched hands very briefly. “And why, pet, do you need a nurse?”

“I’ll tell you when Molly arrives,” was his reply.

“Not wedding business then?”

“Nope.” he very deliberately popped the ‘p’.

Lara gave an exasperated sigh, “How much of my day do I need to clear for this unexpected crisis, Harry?”

“You decide after I’ve filled you in.”

Lara raised one dark eyebrow and managed to pale a little even though her skin was already as white as porcelain. “Excuse me while I call my assistants.” She had just re-entered the room when Molly Carpenter was announced.

This time when Harry introduced me I dropped a small curtsy. I did NOT touch the Winter Lady. Molly and Lara were shooting virtual daggers at one another while peppering Harry with questions. I was about to intervene in order to prevent any further increase in heart rate until, with his own exaggerated sigh, Harry took command of the situation. “Ladies, be seated,” he forcefully commanded.

Both ladies gave him surprised looks before each quietly took a chair on either side of the largest chair in the circle, clearly his. Harry shook his head, rolled his eyes and sat between them. He looked like a king upon his throne in that wingback. Someone had custom made it to fit his oversized frame. He offered tea, receiving only impatient glares in answer.

“Eir, the floor is yours. Please explain why I need a nurse, et cetera.”

I did so, efficiently, emotionlessly, succinctly while Harry began devouring the sandwiches at the rate of one per bite. When I had completed my report both ladies were gaping with open mouths first at me and then at Harry.

“Again Harry?! You’re going to put me through this again?” Molly choked.

“Aw Molls,” Harry soothed, “maybe not. Either way you’ll know for sure in minutes. But you know it’s going to end this way sooner or later. You’re immortal now. I’m not. And if I don’t make it back. At least you’ll know for sure it’s the last time.”

“Later,” she yelled at him leaping to her feet, “Much later!” Harry winced at the obvious pain and bitterness in her voice. “And what is my part in this Dresden? What am I supposed to do?”

“Just tell Mab. I invited her too but she decided to delegate.”

“Do I have to be here when-“ she made a helpless gesture.

“I think that’s Mab’s job, don’t you? If I’m not revived she has to be the one to collect the Mantle. Right?” He looked up at the Winter Lady making full eye contact. Pain and sympathy showed in his eyes in equal measure.

Molly nodded. She cast a glance at Lara. This time there was something like pity there. She placed a trembling hand on either side of Harry’s face, leaned down and kissed his forehead, “Good-bye Harry,” she exhaled. “I’ll see you when it’s over.”

There was a whisper of cold and then she was just gone leaving only a few melting snowflakes on the carpet.

Harry turned to face the succubus. She sat rigidly straight in the chair, both tightly clenched fists resting on her knees. “Nurse Eir, may I speak with my fiancé in private?” Her words were polite but they were projected through gritted teeth and her eyes seemed to be focusing on her lap.

“Don’t upset him. Deep emotion will hasten the inevitable.” I warned.

Harry slowly reached toward her placing a large hand on her silk clad shoulder. He squeezed gently. “Of course you can, Lara.”

Harry gave me a slight nod. I shook my head in answer. I took two steps, just enough to be out of Lara’s line of sight and veiled myself, even suppressing the sound of my breathing and my scent in deference to the vampires heightened senses. Lara remained sitting as still as a statue with eyes downcast, “What does this mean for us, Harry? What changes?”

“Nothing, unless I don’t survive. But perhaps we’d better plan for the worst?”

“And that’s what I’m here to do? Plan for the worst?” Lara asked still speaking through gritted teeth.

“Yes,” Harry dropped his hand from her shoulder and instead grasped her wrists above the cuffs of her silver gray button down. Both thumbs stroking over the silk.

“What plans Harry? If you die I won’t get to renegotiate. Mab will just insist I marry the new Knight, whoever That may be.” she spat.

“You can tell her it’s culturally unacceptable for even half-siblings to marry.” Harry spoke in a quiet rumble.

“What?!” Lara’s head snapped up to stare at Harry’s face. He studiously kept his eyes on her hands.

“Mab suggested Thomas as my replacement once upon a time.” Harry continued stroking her arms. “I’m assured that the Mantle would destroy the Hunger. It doesn’t like direct competition.” His mouth quirked wryly..

“Did- did you plan this Harry? To get Thomas back?” I thought I heard a note of despair in Lara’s voice.

“No," Harry assured her, “that would be suicide and I gave Mab my word I wouldn’t try that again.”

“And you always keep your word,” she stated in a voice laced with bitterness.

“I try,” he sounded defensive.

“I’ve seen little evidence of that,” Lara spat.

“Lara, shut up,” Harry growled. He grabbed her shoulders, pushed her back into the depths of her chair and kissed her quite forcefully.

The succubus struggled for only a split second before freezing like a deer in headlights. When Harry pulled back her eyes were wide as saucers. She raised a hand to her lips and stuttered, “You- you-“

“Kept my promise? Well one of them, at least.” Harry said standing abruptly and taking a step away.

“When?” Lara asked rising slowly.

“Night before I stumbled into the pocket,” Harry answered.

“How?”

“Ms. Romany,” Harry quipped, “you know the process intimately.”

Lara slugged his bicep. “Your method. You idiot. After all you’ve taken months to..”

Harry turned to face her, a rueful smile upon his lips. Harry slipped both hands into his rear pockets, adopting a very, ‘Aw shucks’ stance.

“Well, Mab threatened to take matters into her own hands if I didn’t, you know, fix the issue. Don’t nobody want that!”

“Mab does,” Lara interjected.

Harry stared at her for perhaps two beats of a heart and visibly shuddered. He gulped audibly and continued with his tale, ignoring Lara’s assertion, “So I hired a trustworthy bodyguard and got thoroughly drunk at Executive Priority -Marcone hasn’t rescinded my platinum pass- and I don’t remember much after that.”

“What was different this time? You’ve been there before. You ran out like your hair was on fire last time.”

“Like I said, trusted bodyguard, oh and, tequila.”

“Tequila?!”

“Yeah, you know what they said about tequila,” and together they quoted, “One tequila, two tequila, three tequila, floor.”

Lara giggled girlishly. “So how much tequila did it take, Harry? Just in case I need it on the honeymoon.”

“Oh two-“

“Only two drinks!” Lara gasped incredulously.

“Bottles,” Harry finished sheepishly.

“Just how and when were you going to reveal this momentous news?” Lara purred plastering herself to Harry’s chest, still not touching his skin.

Harry draped his albatross arms around her waist swaying slightly. “At our final dance class,” he hummed.

“How appropriate, first the Argentine Tango and then the horizontal…” she didn’t get to finish the thought. Harry clapped a hand over her mouth blushing bright red from neck to forehead.

He quickly removed said hand taking a step backward, almost over balancing over the chair behind him while wiping his palm on his thigh, “Ew Lara. What? Are you in 7th grade?”

“I wanted to taste you again, wizard,” she cooed huskily as she closed the gap between them. “As sweet as I remembered.”

Somehow Harry captured both her wrists and held her still gloved hands to his chest. “Now Lara, remember the medical briefing. No elevating the wizard’s heart rate. It could prove fatal. And I haven’t told Maggie yet.”

“Oh pooh,” Lara responded plumping herself down into the nearest chair. She pouted for only a few seconds before asking, “What arrangements include me?”

“Access to Thomas in case- and funeral arrangements, unless-“ A look of desolation crossed his face.

Lara gasped, “Of- of course I’ll take care of it… if necessary.”

“I guess finishing the prenup can wait?”

“There. I knew this was all a farce,” she declared as she rose to run her silk gloved hand through his unruly hair. “You’re just trying to emotionally blackmail me into a weaker position in our negotiations.”

“Darn, you’ve seen through my dastardly plan.”

“Seriously, Harry, where do we start?”

“Call the marina and have them prep your fastest boat. We’ve got to get to the island and back by dinner. I have to talk to Maggie.”

“What about your grandfather..?”

“He’d better not!,” Harry snapped, “I’m going to make it clear that, even if Maggie gets magic, neither he nor the Council are ever to come near her. If she wants to contact them at some point, well, that’ll be her choice.”

Harry’s face had gone stoney and cold. I’d only known him a few hours but that look was unmistakable.

“I can have a boat waiting for us in the time it takes to drive there.” Lara assured as she left the room to make her call.

“Where does everyone go to make calls?” I asked quietly.

Harry didn’t startle, “If you stand on the seal in the center of the great hall your phone won’t explode unless I want it to. Too much magic in the stones themselves otherwise. Well, Eir, ready for a boat ride?”

Chapter Text

Harry’s guests had arrived early and Lara’s people were efficient. We were flying over the water in a cigarette boat in under half an hour. Yelling above the roar of the engine as Lara navigated, I asked, “Is it wise to marry your patroness, wizard?”

“Sh, gotta concentrate on the suppression spell or bye-bye engine,” he glowered at me.

“I could do that for you,” I offered. Touching three fingertips to his knee I blanketed him in my own aura. He did not realize that his aura was too weak to have its usual affect. His shoulders sagged in obvious relief. And he did not answer my question. Instead to my shock and surprise he catnapped. Lara only woke him when it came time for the final approach.

“Stay in the boat or at least on the dock until I say different,” Harry advised, “Don’t step onto the island itself without my invitation.”

I chose to heed his warning. I did not wish to waste energy on a minor affront to my pride. I would need the energy to carry out the AllFather’s command soon.

The wizard took his fiancé’s hand and escorted her to the end of the dock. He stepped onto the soil first. He closed his eyes, lifted his face skyward for a few breaths and the genius loci was just .. there. Harry communed silently with the spirit for some few moments while continuing to hold Lara’s hand.

“Do you want to see Thomas before we leave?” his voice was soft like a distant rumble of thunder after the silence. Lara merely nodded. “Alfred will see you there and back. I’ll wait here.”

“Do I need to …” Lara began.

Harry shook his head, “Alfred’s already relaying the information to him.”

Lara disappeared onto a narrow, upward sloping track into the woods. Harry sat on a boulder at the end of the dock staring after her for about an hour. We did not speak for all that time. Eventually he returned to where I was lazing on the fore deck of the boat, “Lara’s on her way back.”

I nodded shifting back onto the seat I had occupied on the trip out with the help of his outstretched hand. Here his heart was steady and slow. He was more calm here than in all the hours I’d been with him. Here, this island… if he stayed here … but no, even then the time would be so short. Return we must.

“What did you discuss with the genius loci?” I asked.

“Oh,” Harry seemed surprised I hadn’t listened in in some way, “um, Alfred said, ‘If Odin doesn’t want you, have the phage transport your shell back here. I will attend to it in the manner the Warden deserves.’”

“You seem comfortable with that wizard.”

“Yeah, I am. Saves Lara some trouble. She can visit Thomas until he’s gone. Maggie, Bonea and Bob will always have a safe sanctuary here ‘as long as I am remembered’. Good old Alfred.”

“You seem content.”

“I always am, here” he didn’t elaborate further. We sat in companionable silence for the few remaining moments until Lara rejoined us.

Faint traces of tears were barely visible on her lovely, pale face. She exchanged a brief look with her fiancé’ as he handed her into the boat. Much was communicated in that look. None of it shared with me.

The pace to Chicago was just as rapid as our outward trip had been. 

I reached for the wizard when he again slept in the noisy boat. He was weakening. I could barely even feel his aura now, much less see it. So, I chose to be content with no one informing me who this Thomas is though he is obviously important to them both; with not having been introduced to ‘Alfred’, Harry’s name for the genius loci I assume; and with being uninformed as to even the name of the island. I had clearly felt the foreboding aura and its concealing miasma of magic. I am fairly certain that I will never be able to find it again on my own. Still as a goddess in my own right and not just a servant of the AllFather I am used to a little more courtesy, a bit of deference when people Know who I am. Harry has been unfailingly polite and kind, even chivalrous, yet he treats me, a goddess, the same as he treats everyone else from gargoyle to dewdrop to fiancé - OH! Oh, THAT’s why the AllFather….

I looked with new respect upon the Winter Knight who sees everyone as equally deserving of respect and courtesy and insolence based solely on their behavior, not their position. I wanted to belly laugh at the thought of Harry Dresden among the Winter Sidhe. He must be putting more than a few noses out of joint. I also had a whole new insight into his troubles with the White Council. And oh my, what he’s going to do to the White Court. I could only imagine the havoc he will cause. He’s a detective after all, not just a wizard. He’ll expose their plots and shakeup their power structure.

How very devious you are Ms. Raith to take on this feast of fire as your consort. No sane member of your Court would dare attempt to harm you, your family or your power structure if they thought for one instant that Harry Dresden might choose to exact vengeance on them for the harm they might cause. Of course, not all vampires are sane, no matter what Court they spring from.

There was a Silver Wraith waiting for us dockside. “Behave yourself Harry, I have to make some calls,” Lara scolded as she slid in next to the driver.

“Hiya Riley,” Harry called with a wiggle of his fingers, “Freydis have the day off?”

‘Riley’ merely nodded. He aided me to my seat with a gloved hand and closed the door behind me. He took his seat behind the wheel, sliding the car into gear as smooth as silk. It was a lovely and elegant vehicle, practically noiseless when in operation.

I slid across the seat toward Harry to do a routine check of his vitals when Lara snapped at me, “MUST you constantly touch my fiancé?”

I lifted both my hands into the air. “If you would prefer to monitor his vitals, be my guest. You can certainly hear his heartbeat and breathing. But you have important calls to make.”

Lara shot visual daggers at me. I merely smiled at her possessiveness. Harry curled further into the corner with a snort and a mumble. Asleep again.

“In that case… Riley stop the car.” He did. “Eir, would you kindly ride up front?” she asked, her tone honeyed acid.

I changed places with her. As the privacy partition rose between the two compartments I saw her literally climbing into Harry’s lap. He sleepily adjusting to her position. “Try not to raise his heart rate above one hundred BPM,” I called laughingly. Lara shot me another venomous glance before she was lost to my sight.

Chapter Text

Daddy!” came a delighted squeal as a small form sailed down the steps and launched herself at Harry. A look of near panic flitted across his face as he caught the child and staggered. A large gray furry beast appeared just in time to prevent disaster, adding his support to the ever present staff.

“Good boy, Mouse,” Harry stage whispered.

“Mouse? Really?” I couldn’t help but giggle at the incongruity.

“It made sense at the time,” Harry said with a roll of his eyes.

‘Mouse’ turned a happy doggy grin in my direction as the child in Harry’s arms bounced and continued squealing, “Daddy, daddy, daddy…”

“Yes Maggie, I’m listening.”

“Grandpa’s here.”

“I know.”

“He bought me ice cream.”

“Grandpa’s do stuff like that.”

“Is he staying?“ Maggie asked both eagerly and pleadingly.

“For a bit.” Harry acknowledged.

“How long Daddy? How long?“ she was bouncing in his arms.

“We’ll see,” Harry sighed.

Maggie slumped with obvious disappointment. It was then that she noticed Lara and I. Maggie gave me an appraising and curious once over. Lara got a pout.

“Are they staying too?” Maggie asked with wide-eyed apparent innocence.

“Yes, ‘they’ are staying too. This is Nurse Eir. She’ll be looking after daddy for a while.”

Maggie took Harry’s face between her two hands and with a hint of worry asked, “Why do you need a nurse, Dad?”

Harry returned the child to the ground. “Run ahead and tell Klaxon we’ll be six for dinner.” Maggie did a quick finger count and looked an unspoken inquiry at Harry.

“Father Forthill is coming too.” Harry affirmed.

“You’re going to finish the Pre-up?”

“No, not tonight.”

Maggie, tilted her head both up and sideways giving her father a look.

“Meet me in the dining room after you’ve spoken to Klaxon and I’ll explain.”

Maggie beamed and skipped off to complete her task.

“Should I be with you when you tell her?” Lara asked taking Harry’s hand. Harry lifted the still gloved hand to his lips for a brief kiss.

“No, thanks. I think I’d better do this one on one.”

“I’ll be close,” I assured him.

Lara looked as if she might protest my presence, but Harry’s reply stopped her cold, “Yeah, she’ll need reassurance. I don’t want to scare her if it can be avoided. She’s already lost so much. I need her to believe I’m not going anywhere any time soon.”

“So I’m invited to dinner?” Eb called as we entered the Great Hall.

“As if Maggie would let you get away any sooner.” Harry gazed indulgently at the child as she hung off the older wizard as she had off her father a few moments before. “Lara, you can use my office to finish those calls if you’d like. More privacy.” She nodded and headed in the right direction without instruction.

It was at this moment that a grey shadow flitted across the hall to twine between Harry’s shins. Using his staff for balance Harry squatted to stroke the creature, a feline of considerable size and age. “Hello, Mister, old man.” he murmured.

The cat then regally made his way to McCoy raising himself up on hind legs using The wizard’s leg as support until Maggie could acknowledge him as well. Once the child had paid homage the cat strolled back into the depths of the castle with stiff legged dignity and tail erect totally ignoring everyone else present. Harry watched the animal with a fondly sad expression. With a prodigious sigh Harry rose, squared his shoulders and gestured to Klaxon.

The gargoyle was instantly at his side.

“Is the bed prepared, Klaxon?”

“It is, Master. How soon will you have need…”

“Tonight,”Harry interrupted.

“So soon?”” Klaxon’s voice actually took on a hint of surprise, breaking the ever impassive facade.

“I fear so,” Harry rejoined. Then he called softly, “Maggie,” The child turned to him guileless, eyes wide and bright in anticipation. Harry’s eyes glistened at the corners.

“Come with me, Mags. Time for that explanation.”

“Are we in trouble, Daddy?” Maggie’s whole demeanor changed in an instant. The wary feralness of prey was written all over her countenance, her stance.

“No punkin. We aren’t, just me.” Maggie walked stiffly across the intervening space to grasp Harry’s outstretched fingers. His hand so large and hers so small that she couldn’t take his whole hand.

“So soon Hoss?” Wizard McCoy’s voice held a suppressed wail of grief to my ears.

Harry nodded, “Time’s getting short.”

I did a visual assessment of my patient. It had not been long since I’d last assessed him. Now I saw that his natural pallor was graying around the edges. His breathing was becoming strained, not getting enough oxygen. Movement, even just walking his daughter into the next room for privacy, took enough effort to cause panting and he was leaning heavily on his staff. The curse was gaining momentum, like an object rolling downhill. My task would be completed, one way or another, before dawn.

“Hoss,” the elder wizard called after the pair.

“Just be ready,” Harry answered the unasked question. He and the trembling child disappeared through a double door to the central room.

I could hear the soft rumble of Harry’s baritone from behind the heavy carved door which had not been closed fully. I didn’t hear the child until she screamed, “No Daddy, no!” Then there was quiet for a space of less than two minutes before the door flew open and the child sprang from the room and flung herself into her Great-Grandfather’s arms sobbing and wailing. “I want Aunt Charity! I want Miss Molly,” and on a choking sob that was echoed by her father’s voice, “I want Murpheeeee!”

I could see Harry kneeling beside one of the smaller chairs. He did not rise. Instead, he leaned into the chair and sobbed as Eb held the wailing child. I stood frozen unable to do anything but watch the painful tableau.

Lara stepped out of Harry’s office. She took in the child’s words and announced, “I’ll make those calls,” disappearing back through the doors.

She emerged again a few minutes later to find little had changed. No one had moved. Harry’s audible sobs had subsided into a waterfall of tears and his breathing was more labored. Maggie still sobbed, but wordlessly in her Grandfather’s arms. Lara’s eyes swept over the scene assessing.

She crossed with incredible speed to the weeping child. Lightly touching the small girl’s shoulder she whispered something to her in a comforting tone. The poor waif nodded and buried herself more deeply into the old man’s broad shoulder. Wizard McCoy gave his grandson’s fiancé a baleful glare which she returned with an icy, implacable gaze before both broke eye contact. A mutual decision to avoid a soul gaze.

Lara then went to Harry’s side. “I called Connie and Irwin too.” She spoke quietly into his ear. Harry nodded, silent tears still flowing down his cheeks. He tried and failed to stand. The staff clattered to the floor. Harry sagged forward. Lara slipped under one arm and lifted him to his feet. I ran to slip under the other arm.

Now that I was fully in the room and not just looking through a narrow opening I could see that it had been set up as a receiving room. Three of the five sets of doors opening off the back wall of the grand hall opened into this room. Small clusters of chairs were scattered around the room especially in front of the fireplaces on either side of the room. The center of the rear wall would have been perfect for a throne. Instead in that space stood a hospital bed. It was to this bed that we steered the failing wizard.

Klaxon lowered the mattress enough that Harry could easily sit on the edge. Between the three of us we got him out of his well-worn leather Ulster coat and removed his footwear. I stepped back to allow his fiancé to settle him and pull the sheet up over him.

“Now what?” Harry asked swiping at the tears as if attempting to stem the flood.

“Now we get you into some comfortable pajamas, keep you warm and hydrated and,” I shrugged, “wait.”

“Gah,” Harry exclaimed, “waiting is always my least favorite part of any campaign.”

“My best advise is to take a nap. Perhaps you will be able to join us for dinner after you rest again,” I offered.

”Sure, sure,” Harry acquiesced leaning back into his pillows and closing still leaking eyes, he surrendered to the weariness of overwrought emotion.

I watched Lara gazing at the weary wizard, stroking his face and arms with ungloved fingers. He hummed appreciatively when she lightly kissed his lips. He turned his palm to intertwine their fingers until he slipped into slumber and his hand went limp. Even then Lara seemed reluctant to release him.

She glanced at me as I stood sentinel over my patient, the invisible Kaos at my side. She unbuttoned his shirt. She then ran her hands over his well defined pectorals. She leaned across his supine form placing a kiss behind his jaw where the pulse beats strongest. Harry lifted his chin slightly mumbling something unintelligible. She placed a second kiss over the puckered scar of a bullet wound just to the left of his heart. Then she lay her whole length next to his on the narrow bed with her ear pressed to hear his struggling heart.

“Its so slow,” she breathed. “how long before… before it stops?” she stuttered.

“Before this time tomorrow.” I answered without emotion.

She, with obvious reluctance, pulled herself from the bed. “I’ll call the office. Make arrangements to be able to be here until.. its done.” She allowed her fingers to trail down the length of his form as she progressed to the foot of the bed, lingering a split second longer than necessity required over his toe. “Damn the man. For years I’ve wanted to touch him, to taste him and he’s resisted, held me off, been protected. And now that I CAN touch and taste I might lose the prize I’ve fought so hard to gain.” With that she left the room.

As she reached the still open doorway, Maggie’s somber face appeared. They did not acknowledge one another overtly. Lara simply side stepped, allowing Maggie to enter as she left.

Maggie stood at the end of the bed, barely tall enough to see over the mound her father’s body made under the sheet. She stared with red rimmed eyes at his gray, strained, sleeping face. The scars and lines of stress seemed to stand out more starkly as he labored to breathe.

“Is my daddy really going to die?” she whimpered.

“His heart will stop beating.” I acknowledged, “but I will do my best to get it started again.”

Maggie turned to look at me, hope and fear warring behind her eyes.

“I’m very good at putting bodies back together,” I attempted to assure her.” Do you know who or what Einherjar are?”

Maggie nodded, “Daddy said our Murphy is one now and so is Mr. Marcone’s friend with the red hair.”

“Yes,” I nodded, trying to recall these two from among the dozens that had been harvested this past summer. “Well, I’m the person who fixes the Einherjaran. I make them whole for Ragnarok.”

“So you’ll fix everything that’s broken in my daddy? Not just his heart?” I nodded. “Even if Queen Mab doesn’t like it?”

What had I missed!? I stepped over to the bedside and placed a hand in the center of my patient’s chest. There WAS a magical override disguising unhealed fractures to the spine. Everything held in place by magic but nothing healed, nothing knitted back together. I chafed at the slipshod work and grew angry when it occurred to me he may have been left half-healed on purpose. Well, well, well, so the AllFather wanted to best Mab in the matter of her Knight.

“Solve the seidrmeirdr’s problems” left wide latitude for interpretation. We could both claim a miscommunication if- when Mab found out what I’d done or when she complained.

“Yes Maggie, I can fix everything that’s physically wrong with your daddy, except his scars. He insists on keeping those. I’ve already finished fixing his hand. But I can’t do it now. I think it best to wait until after the curse is broken.”

Maggie was clearly forcing herself to hold my gaze and it was, just as clearly, uncomfortable for her. Finally she looked away apparently satisfied I would do as I said.

“Can- Can you take away the Mantle, too?” she whispered forlornly and almost inaudibly.

“No, dear one,” I said stepping around the bed to place a hand on the tiny waif. She was grasping the bottom rail of the bed as though she might drown if she let go. “Only Mab can recall the Knight’s Mantle and even then, only under certain conditions.”

I used the touch to scan the child. Children are so much easier to read and to heal than adults. The magic is different because they aren’t just renewing and replacing their cells; they’re actively creating them as they grow. Yet, mental and emotional wounds are both easier to inflict and more difficult to heal in a child. This child and her father both bore deep psychic wounds that had yet to close. I can do little for her.

I could implant the knowledge and encourage the desire to heal those wounds but, as with her father, she must do the work. My part was the work of a few heartbeats.

Maggie clambered up to her father’s side and clung with a quiet desperation to his sleeping body. “Don’t leave me Daddy, please.”

Harry mumbled wordlessly turning slightly toward his daughter, pulling her under his arm, next to his chest, clinging to her in return, shielding her. Maggie stayed there almost unmoving until Harry began to stir. Hours had passed.

The Carpenters and the Pounders had arrived in the interim. McCoy had contacted Listens to Wind with an update. Maggie was then enticed to eat some dinner. Harry had managed a few mouthfuls of soup. He would not rise again until the curse was gone.

It was a long night of waiting for everyone. Harry slipped in and out of wakefulness. Maggie’s sleeping body was carried to bed by Irwin Pounder whose large presence calmed us all.

More people arrived. Even Baron Marcone attempted to enter the castle that evening. He was unable to pass through the defenses at first. He returned after dawn and gained entry. He planted himself in a distant corner of the large room and just sat watching. His face was blank. His eyes guarded. He gave an impressive impression of a stone statue. Yet, he remained.

When it happened, as is always the case, it all happened quickly. The wizard arched his back gasping and collapsed  on the bed, eyes staring sightlessly ahead. His body then relaxed. I leapt forward to catch his last breath as it rattled out of him. I placed one hand on his forehead and one over his now still heart and began to count the seconds.

Chapter Text

At 15 seconds Mab arrived. A column of snow began to fall at the foot of the bed simply and silently forming itself into the Queen of Air and Darkness. She said nothing. I realized she was holding the Winter Mantle in place, refusing to allow it to exit the wizard’s body. I wondered how long she would wait. Could I-? Could she intervene if I did not act? Would she? She had maintained him for many months once before.

At 40 seconds someone began weeping aloud.

At 50 seconds someone asked, “Aren’t you supposed to do something?!” I could not answer. I would lose the wizard’s breath.

At 60 seconds a black mist rose from the wizard’s body. A maniacal laugh echoed through the room as the mist flared into flame before dissipating harmlessly into the air. I breathed the wizard’s last breath back into his body and reached for his mind and soul. I saw with the wizard’s eyes.

We stood on the Rainbow Bridge shrouded in a light mist. Two figures stood before us; one large, one small. The wizard’s feet carried us forward until he recognized the larger figure.

“Cujo?” I mean, Hendricks?”

“Yeah Dresden, it’s me.”

“Part of my welcoming committee?” Harry was grinning.

The smaller figure stepped into clear view, out of the other’s shadow.

"Yes," said the smaller form.

“Karrin,” Harry breathed moving toward her, reaching.

At 80 seconds I called to the room, “I need the child! or he is lost!”

"No Dresden, you can’t touch her,” ‘Hendricks’ warned placing himself between Harry and Karrin.

At 95 seconds Maggie flew across the room calling to her father, “Daddy, don’t go! Daddy, don’t leave me!” in a wail that would make a Banshee proud. She leapt onto the bed shaking him hard.

Dresden’s head snapped around as all those on the bridge heard the child’s anguished call. He looked back at the small blond woman with longing, still reaching in her direction.

“No Harry,” she said sadly, “Maggie still needs you.”

“But,” Dresden began.

Karrin smiled sadly, “I’m okay Harry and I’ll be waiting for you.”

“Just one kiss?” Harry pleaded taking another step closer toward the tiniest Einherjar I had ever seen.

“No,” said the large red haired man, “if you touch her, you can’t go back. That’s why she brought me.”

Harry took one backward step, then another, eyes still on the small woman.

“I love you,’ he said.

“I love you,” she replied.

With one more backward step Harry’s body jolted and he began sliding down into the mist, away from the figures who remained motionless in the center of the bridge. Maggie’s wail of ‘Daddy’ once more piercing the silence.

At 100 seconds I sent a jolt of energy through Dresden’s heart and began to knit together bone, sinew and muscle throughout his body.

At 150 seconds I had finished my mending. I sent another jolt of energy through Harry’s body as McCoy restrained the wailing child.

At 160 seconds Harry gasped.

At 165 seconds he called out, “Maggie”.

At 170 seconds the child escaped her grandfather’s hold and landed in her father’s arms.

At 175 seconds I released my hold on the man.

At 180 seconds he wrapped his arms around his weeping child.

At 183 seconds his eyes found mine.

At 189 seconds he whispered, “Thank you,” and I stopped counting.

“I will remain until I have assured myself that your recovery is complete, Sir Knight.” I stated as I stepped back from the bed.

“Sir Knight,” Mab’s imperious tone cut through the audible sighs of relief from the gathered crowd.

“Yes my Queen,” Harry answered tiredly and almost meekly.

“Do not test me in this way again.”

“I will endeavor not to do so,” Harry paused, “But no promises.”

Mab huffed and shook her head. “Hey, I’m the Knight you thought you wanted.” he quipped. Mab disappeared with a shimmer of air and a blast of Arctic cold.

Chapter Text

Harry’s friends began to form a circle around the bed. Tears of joy and relief on many of the faces as he continued to hold his child. In a corner of the room near the ceiling two spirits hovered; one an iridescent green and the other a fiery orange gold. Standing silently around the walls; some invisible, some blending into the walls and only a few visible to the naked eye were at least two dozen gargoyles, one of which was Klaxon.

The largish dewdrop from before flitted to the wizard’s ear and whispered something. Harry threw back the covers and attempted to rise. He managed to sit upright before Baron Marcone and I reached him.

“What do you think you’re doing?” I demanded, “would you undo all my hard work?”

“Um, Toot says there’s a situation outside I need to deal with,” Harry offered diffidently.

“What kind of situation could you possibly handle at this moment?” the Baron interjected acerbically.

“How the hell did you get in here?” Harry snapped irritably.

“I came ‘alone' and under cover of night,” was the reply.

“Oh,” Harry left it at that calling, “Klaxon, apparently I need your legs.”

Once again in his Lurch-like guise Klaxon strode to the bedside and lifted the gangley wizard as easily as one might a child.

“To the roof please, Klaxon,” came the order and “Coming Maggie mine?”

Maggie was lifted into Harry’s arms and Klaxon carried the grinning child and the tall wizard from the room and up several flights of stairs. The lavender haired Toot, the Baron, myself and several others following behind. We exited onto the roof and into a bright summer morning.

The air was filled with dewdrop fae of all sizes and colors. It looked like the flowers from half the shops in Chicago had been caught in a whirlwind that now centered above the roof of the castle. At the appearance of the wizard a cheer went up from the kaleidoscopic swirl.

This was followed by a rumble of voices from the street level. Dresden, now on his own feet, made his way to the parapet. He and those of us with him peered over the edge. The sidewalks on both sides of the street for three blocks in both directions were full of people. It looked as though they were expecting a parade except that all the faces were turned toward the castle instead of the street. A sussurration of whispering voices rose to our ears. “The Wizard, the wizard,” was repeated and became a chant.

Harry gave a wave, looking very stunned. His wave was followed by a smattering of applause which soon grew to a dull roar as many hundreds of people joined together in the ovation.

Klaxon handed Harry a megaphone. The creature must be some kind of conjurer. Harry raised the object above his head with another wave. The crowd quieted. The megaphone was brought to Harry’s lips. He leaned heavily and a little forward onto the parapet’s stones. He cleared his throat.

“Oh, thanks folks. As you can see, just like Mark Twain, “the reports of my death have been greatly exaggerated.” You can go on back to your lives now.” A ripple of laughter spread like a wave through the crowd.

“I wanna see. I wanna see, Daddy,” Maggie begged. Dresden lifted her just enough for her to see the crowd without being seen and for just a moment.

Then he spoke through the megaphone again, “Th- The- That’s all folks.” Mixed laughter and applause greeted those final words. He gave a last wave, after which he and Maggie made their way back across the roof.

“”Let’s go make some pancakes Mags. I’m starving.” He allowed Klaxon to carry him back down the stairs.

“Oh no Lazarus,” quipped Marcone, “you’re going back to bed. I can make pancakes.”

“Lazarus only got resurrected once, scumbag,” Harry snarked.

“So are you a cat with 9 lives or are you immortal, Dresden?” Marcone was smirking.

“God, I hope not either one!” Harry intoned in a horrified gasp.

I stayed on the roof watching both crowds disperse. The humans left in two and threes and fives exchanging smiles and hugs as they went. The fae began to break up like petals blown by the winds, in little drifts of mixed colors.

But the last groups of the wyldfae to leave were large, at least a cohort exiting together. It looked like a whole army of loosely organized tiny fae had attached themselves to the Knight. “Never underestimate the little guy”.

The last cohort contained the lavender haired Toot, who organized them into patrols and sent them out to watch the extended neighborhood.

When the last of the crowds were gone, I veiled myself and left the castle. The AllFather would expect my report without delay. Kaos knows how to contact me if- when I’m needed again.

I promised myself I would call in several times over the next few weeks just to make sure there were no lingering ill effects of the curse, but I knew it would really be just to see this fascinating and challenging wizard again.