Argh, six pages

[bloodsong1]

The Elvinking smirked as he watched Sarah get ready for her "prom", Little Witch playing lady's maid. He wondered what to do about them. It was obvious Sarah was rapidly approaching maturity. He saw no reason to continue dancing to Little Witch's tune. A thorough study of modern mortals had revealed amusing and troubling facts. Belief in magic and Others was steadily increasing, but only for the predators, the Dark Ones. He was the last of the High Fey and yet the changeling held most of their people's magic. It would not tolerated much longer. He needed that magic to defend his realm from the Dark Ones. How to get it, though. Yes, he had promised to make Sarah his Queen. That did not mean she needed to STAY his queen. Killing her would release the magic to him. Contrariwise, getting heirs out of her would spread the magic. Enough breeding and she would become magically exhausted, easy to dispose of. Then he could choose the strongest to be his heir and kill the rest. Having an heir was sensible and it would be SO much fun. He hadn't enjoyed a woman in a very long time. Little Witch looked up at him and glared. He chuckled at her expression. Maybe he would bed her once Sarah was taken care of. If she was still attractive. He would enjoy putting that spitfire in her place! Another dark chuckle turned into a slight choking when Sarah reappeared. She wore his colors! A silver dress, modest by current mortal standards, with an obsidian necklace and earrings. Her hair was pinned up like a Fey maiden too young to court, with a matching obsidian and feather hairpiece on the right side of her head. If it had been on the left, it would mean she would be eligible after the next New Moon. WHERE had Little Witch learned THAT? She had turned Sarah into a Ward! Under his protection and too young to be used. He growled, inclined his head and vanished. Cunning little spitfire.

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Sarah carefully dried her damp palms on a plain white handkerchief and tucked it into her small black purse. She was nervous. How would His Nibs behave? Was she endangering her friends, her classmates and her school? He appeared in a puff of smoke and her mouth fell open. He was wearing a suit from the 1800s, a black frock coat with tails, a noticeably snug pair of black trousers, a silver shirt and a simple cravat pinned with a globe of jet the size of a shooting marble. His hair was wilder then ever and he was wearing his Fey Makeup. Sarah shut her mouth when he leered at her.

"Come, Sarah. Let us take the Court Test," He said. She blinked at him. How were they going to get to the hotel? He held out his hand. She smiled at her parents, who respectfully had NOT been wielding cameras, and took his hand. They teleported to the hotel entrance, appearing as a limo pulled away. The bellhop looked startled as they swept past. They followed a group of girls in short dresses to the ballroom. Sarah looked around as they entered and nodded. The Prom Committee had been sensible. There were no loud, blatant displays of school pride and no stupid mascot running around. The school colors were displayed tastefully in balloon columns, table settings and crepe paper. The hotel had provided a light buffet of snacks and a huge cake and a bar that only offered soda and punch. The principal guarded the bar while other faculty served the food. Dance pop poured out of the speakers and the dance floor was full. His Nibs sighed loud enough to be heard over the bass.

"This is worse then a court function," He said clearly.

"How so?" Sarah asked, tugging his arm slightly. He sighed again and followed her to an empty table.

"Your kind have the most atrocious taste in music. I've heard better troll ballads!"

"If it bothers you so, you can ASK for something else," Sarah said, putting Power into "ask". "Of course, I cannot guarantee the DJ would have something to your tastes." The last three words were drawled. His Nibs' eyebrow went up.

"We shall see. Now, your first lesson. Who here has rank and what are they?"

"No one. Yet."

"Yet?"

"The Prom King and Queen are announced about halfway through. It's a popularity contest of little actual importance, but those who care about such status take it very seriously."

"Your royalty is chosen by a vote?" He asked, outraged. Sarah shrugged again.

"This is high school, Sensei. We are taught the basic trappings of democracy so as to become disillusioned when we join the real world and realize all politics are popularity contests."

"Not in my world."

"Of course not! Your kind favor absolute monarchies or utter anarchy. Forever can be comfortable."

"It is also tedious," He muttered. Sarah's eyebrow went up. A display of vulnerability? No, just another test. She grinned.

"You could offer a constitutional monarchy, might perk things up."

"My subjects are too stupid to rule themselves, even a little."

"Oh goody. Something to look forward to," She snarked. He glared at her, her grin stayed.

"Tell me of the candidates. What are their merits?" He asked, getting back to the point.

"I told you, it's only a popularity contest. The merits are nothing more then social favoritism or fear."

"Excellent." His Nibs stood and extended his hand. "Come. We will mingle with the candidates."

"You and your tests," Sarah sighed, standing. His Nibs smirked and tucked her arm close to his side. Sarah mentally rolled her eyes and led him to a cluster of three girls in slightly less revealing dresses. The left hand girl in pink was Joan, a cheerleader and fairly popular. Her odds were middling.

"Joan, this is Mr. King, my tutor. Mr. King, Joan, one of the Five," Sarah introduced them. All three girls' jaws dropped.

"A pleasure," His Nibs said, inclining his head. Joan gaped at him, eyes wide and slightly glazed. Her companions were almost as starstruck. After a minute of stunned silence, His Nibs shrugged.

"Not worthy then," He said and steered Sarah away. She looked over her shoulder and thinned her lips when the spell was broken and the girls started chattering like disturbed chickens.

"Who's next?"

"Logan and Charles," She said, gracefully changing their course to join a group of jocks. Logan stood off to the side, watching them over his glass. Charles was in the middle, waving his arms and recounting his winning basketball shot for the millionth time. Sarah introduced Logan first, who put his cup down and bowed politely yet cautiously. His Nibs' eyebrow soared.

"A pleasure, sir. Sarah, you look beautiful," Logan said, offering his hand. Sarah responded and Logan kissed the air above her knuckles.

"You would do," His Nibs said. Sarah blinked at him.

"Hey! It's not up to you, poufter," Charles growled once he realized no one was listening to him. He pushed his way over and glared at His Nibs. "God, Sarah where did you dig this fossil up? Your back yard?" Obligatory laughter from the jocks.

"Addlepated lout," Logan muttered. His Nibs grinned and Sarah sighed.

"When you're done puffing up your date, Charles, you can talk. Until then, remember most girls prefer velvet to plastic." Embarrassed coughs. Logan saluted her with his cup. His Nibs inclined his head to Logan, sneered at the rest and led her away. The pattern continued, the girls being struck dumb by His Nibs and the boys sneering and making crude comments that Sarah dismissed with cheerful mockery. His Nibs glowered. One girl was the exception. She, like Logan, lingered at the edge of a larger group. Her name was Rebecca. When Sarah and His Nibs approached, her eyes widened and she dropped a shallow curtsey.

"What a poser," One of the girls said, catching the gesture, only to drop her glass upon seeing His Nibs. Punch splashed over several shoes.

"You honor us, my lord," Rebecca said, ignoring the mess and smiling at Sarah. They shared a conspiratorial wink. His Nibs offered a hand.

"It is refreshing to meet someone with full use of her tongue," He purred. Sarah sighed. Rebecca allowed the courtly gesture, but twisted her wrist so His Nibs kissed his own glove. She also took her hand back.

"The honor ends at your aura," She said firmly. His Nibs glared. Rebecca folded her arms and matched his glare calmly as the rest of the group edged away. Sarah allowed a one minute contest before pinching His Nibs' wrist. He blinked, shot her a dirty look.

"I would like a dance before the announcement."

"Very well."



Yeeeaaah.