Greetings, Harry-she,Tobias read.
You are correct. Under normal circumstances, I would not be happy entrusting our future to a young adolescent switch. But our Lady chose you for our daughter. She would not have done so, if you would be the wrong choice for our Kingdom, especially given our daughter's illness. Perhaps the Lady meant to introduce new blood to our line. I cannot know. I try not to question our Lady.
Signed, his Royal Majesty Consort Mohira Karrillre Ardkrandin-she.
Our Lady? Like the Lady of the Lake, or something? Or does he mean some kind of Goddess? 'I try not to question our Lady'. That sounded more like a Goddess of some sort. He thinks his Goddess is involved in this? Shit! Talk about divine right to rule. Sorry, Mohira, but the sword in the stone is a myth. I am no King Arthur, to be chosen by some Lady to be your fucking Heir. Shaking his head, Tobias read down to the Archivist's note.
To his Highness Harry-she of the Unseelie Court, greetings.
Interesting questions! The 'earring' system is in the 'Politics' section of your book, under 'Lesser Courts', but I'll give you a summary. All Fae nobility wear at least a stud. A hoop indicates one of the Royal line. Wearing two earrings, of either kind, indicates one in direct line to take the throne. So your two hoops indicate, as you speculated, that you are the Heir to the Unseelie throne. Mo's stud and a hoop make her the Second. The monarchs themselves wear two small hoops in the upper ear, and a larger hoop in the lobe. Two earrings, without the Hoop, indicates the heir to a fae throne that is NOT the Unseelie. There are only a handful of these in the world.
As to your second questions, the Amazons are small but powerful group of Lycanthropes, with the power to change into Jaguars. Unlike the Weres, they can do so at will.
Interesting, Tobias thought. I was right. But he had more important things to be worrying about. Bending over his desk, he thought carefully for a moment, then wrote out his reply.
To his Royal Majesty Consort Mohira Karrillre Ardkrandin-she, greetings.
We will talk further in person. I am at the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, in Scotland. My name is Tobias Bātard. Do not blame Madame Harlot. She knew me as Harry.
Signed, Tobias Bātard.
Tobias grinned. Now things would get interesting. Thinking about it more, though, he made a face. Heir to the bloody Throne. Ugh.
Leaving Mo where she was, on her playmat on the floor, Tobias got up from his desk and went once again to look himself in the mirror, and wrinkled his nose. Awe inspiring. Truly. His braid was three days old, and dirty, he was wearing his worst set of Hogwarts robes, his hands had ink on them from the previous day's Charms essay, and Mo had urped on his sleeve that morning during breakfast. He was not going to meet the monarchs looking like this. Then again, maybe if I show up looking like this, they'll change their fool minds and choose somebody else. Not if they thought their God wanted him, though. Okay, shower and change, take my hair down. Should he use his dress robes? Nope. I don't have any dress robes, anymore. He'd have to go with normal Hogwarts robes. Oh, good.
Shedding his robes quickly, Tobias pulled his knee-length blue-black hair over his shoulder to unbraid it in front of him and comb it out. Finally he pulled Mo's playmat into the bathroom with him, and stepped into the shower.
Half an hour later, he was clean and dressed. His hair would remain wet for at least a couple of hours, but brushed as straight as it was, it wasn't obvious. Tying it in a low ponytail, Tobias looked in the mirror. Better. Actually, he looked kind of cool, he realized. Showing the earrings also drew attention to the large silver stud he still wore in his right wing. The three points of silver stood out starkly against his black wings and hair. Stark. It's all rather stark, come to think of it. Black wings, black hair, black robes. It made anything that was not black stand out: his eyes, his jewelry, his teeth. It was no longer a stranger that stood in the mirror, to him, but he'd stand out among the other students. I always have, though. They just hadn't bowed to him for it, before. This is my life, now, he reminded himself. I am People, and Mo's daddy, and somehow that makes me their Heir. I'll have to figure it out.
He looked over the bows section of the book one more time, and then it was once again time to feed and change Mo before class.
~~HP~~ ~~HP~~ ~~HP~~ ~~HP~~ ~~HP~~
Tobias ended up arriving just-barely-on-time to his Charms class. The class had almost all already arrived. Walking in, Tobias was startled when the three People members of the class – two Ravenclaws, and Professor Flitwick himself – stood at his entrance and turned to face him solemnly. This promptly set off furious whispering among all the other students. Unsure how to respond, Tobias found the closest seat and sat down as quickly as he could without sacrificing dignity. As soon as he sat, the others did, and the class resumed mostly as normal, though Flitwick had to speak up sharply several times to cut down on the whispers and stares and regain the attention of the class. As usual, Tobias tried to ignore the attention, instead splitting his focus between his classwork and Mo's occasional needs.
Divination was much the same, at least at the beginning – the same two Ravenclaws stood until he was seated, and then the class proceeded. This time, Andra shot him a questioning look, and he shook his head. He wasn't her prince, and the last thing he wanted was for his new friends to start treating him differently. Clearly having no clue what was going on, Trelawney ignored their formal behavior and asked them all about their dream journals. This time, they broke into fours, and Tobias grouped with Esmeralda, Andra, and Jody.
“Sooo...going from a literal king to go with your literal wings...” Andra started at one point.
“...dream interpretation is still useless,” he finished.
She smiled and dropped it.
A loud laugh from across the room gained their attention a moment later.
“Do not laugh!” Trelawney was saying mysteriously. “Divination is a beautiful and serious art. It does not do to mock it! Now, you were saying, Mr. Robertson?”
“Well, Professor,” the Ravenclaw said seriously. “I think my dream can best be described as warm, wet, and sticky.”
The class as a whole started to snicker, and Trelawney glared around quickly before saying, “I still fail to see what is so funny about it.”
Gabriel spoke up, sincerity writ all over his face. “I believe we already know what of our dreams fits that particular description, Professor,” he told her seriously.
Laughs broke out harder, but Trelawney just looked even more confused. “What, dear?” she asked him innocently. This set off even more laugh and a barrage of suggestions.
“Hot milk!” a Hufflepuff named Andrew called.
“Elmer's glue!” another Hufflepuff named Jenny responded.
“Marshmallow!” a blond Ravenclaw contributed.
“Silly string!”
“Definitely milk,” the Ravenclaw who'd started the whole incident decided. “I dreamed that I was...drowning...in milk. It was awful, truly.”
Gradually the laughs died down, and Tobias turned back to Jody to find her covering her mouth with one hand, eyes laughing. “Oh, poor Trelawney,” she said. “I could've guessed somebody've done that.”
“Dreamed about milk?” Tobias asked her, widening his eyes innocently. She punched him.
“Dude, you just assaulted a prince,” Andra told her.
“Oh, come off it,” Jody told her. “He was being crude.”
“I was being crude?!” Tobias protested, thoroughly enjoying how normal the girls were being. “What about Gabriel?”
“He wasn't within range,” she told him.
“Ah,” he said.
“Yeah that totally makes it okay to assault the local prince in his place,” Esmeralda said.
“Duh,” Jody said, clearly vindicated. “Besides, he shouldn't say such things in front of the baby.” Reaching out slowly, she offered Mo a finger. Tobias watched carefully, but found he wasn't too stressed by the proximity, and relaxed while Mo pulled the offered finger towards her mouth and Jody freed herself carefully, a gentle smile on her lips.
Twenty minutes later, a clearly winded third-year climbed through the trap-door into the room. Startled, Tobias recognized the student as Karla Taylorson, one of the two other Fae Hufflepuffs.
“Karla-Taylorson here for – His- Highness Tobias-she,” she gasped. “He has- important- visitors. I-is he- here?”
Tobias stood up. Here we go. “I am Tobias-she,” he said.
The girl dropped into a deep bow. “Your Highness, I apologize.”
“There's nothing to apologize for,” Tobias answered quickly. “Do I go to the Headmaster's office?”
“No, Highness,” Karla said, breathing evening out. “There's a little room, off the Great Hall. I'm to accompany you there. Do you need anything ahead of time?”
Tobias thought about it for a second, then shook his head. “Do I leave my books here, or bring them?” he asked.
“I will bring them for you, Highness.”
“No need,” Tobias answered. “But thank you. I'd rather carry them myself.”
~~HP~~ ~~HP~~ ~~HP~~ ~~HP~~ ~~HP~~
Consort Mohira was an imposing figure, with wings and markings as dark as Tobias', and skin a lot darker. His dark purple hair was confined to an elaborate braid down his back. Staring at him for a moment, it occurred to Tobias that this was the first time that he'd seen an adult male of his own race. I'll look a lot more like him, someday. The prospect didn't frighten him as much as he'd thought it would. The Consort's horns were bigger than his, more like the ones in the picture he'd seen. He was also huge. At least seven feet tall, and muscular in a way that Tobias was not. It might be nice to look like that, when he was older. And scare people even more than I already do. Great. The older fae's features were sharp, with a direct, serious stare that was even more intimidating than his size.
Sheyanan was smaller, shorter than Tobias, with a slightly sad smile and bright blue eyes that reminded him suddenly and forcefully of her daughter. Lliannan's and Mo's purple curls must have come from Mohira, though, as Sheyanan's hair was straight, and an almost cranberry red. She, too, wore it long, though hers was pulled up into a complicated chignon before falling loose down her back. Her features were plain – not ugly, exactly, but not as beautiful as her husband and daughter. While she was not as physically imposing as Mohira, there was a confidence to her stance that told Tobias not to underestimate her.
Both monarchs were dressed in richly colored robes. Mohira's dark cobalt and Sheyanan's dark garnet both complimented the natural jewel tones of their hair as well as the swirling markings on their arms and cheeks. Despite his clean-up that morning, Tobias found he felt woefully underdressed.
For a moment, the two monarchs just stared at him, as he stared at them, but then Sheyanan's smile broadened, and she bowed shallowly.
“Tobias-she, greetings. I am Sheyanan, Queen of the Unseelie Court and your daughter's grandmother.”
“Greetings,” Tobias offered, bowing back to the Queen.
“And I am Mohira, Consort of the Unseelie Court. Your daughter is my granddaughter.”
There was a warning in that, somewhere. Tobias bowed deeper back, grateful that he'd studied these bows specifically just that morning. “Greetings, your Majesty.” Unsure what to do or say next, Tobias was almost grateful when Moriyana squeeled and squirmed in his arms, reaching out towards the two monarchs. Her grandparents, he realized suddenly. And it looked like she knew them.
He looked uncertainly between the two monarchs and his little, vulnerable daughter, and found himself holding her tighter even as she reached for them.
“Do not worry, Tobias-she,” Sheyanan said. “We do not expect you to allow us near her so soon.” She gave Mo a sad little smile. “It is good to see her doing so well. We knew that Lliannan would never have asked you to care for her if you would not do a good job, but my heart is not so rational.”
The longing in her eyes was obvious, and suddenly Tobias realized something that hadn't quite hit him before. Sheyanan and Mohira were the Queen and Consort of the Unseelie Court, but they had also lost their daughter and granddaughter only a month before. And here he was, with their grandchild in his arms, and no idea what to do.
“I- I'm sorry,” he said awkwardly. “I- I just don't really know you.” And I am vastly outnumbered, he realized, suddenly feeling a bit threatened by this set-up. He had left class to follow Karla to the same little side-chamber that the Triwizard Champions had met in for the first time. Two bodyguards had stood outside the door, still and silent until one of them opened the door for him and for the ugly, scarred-up black cat that seemed to suddenly appear. He'd walked in to find himself in a room with not only the two monarchs, but also six more silent bodyguards. They might have tried to disappear into the background, but as adult sidhe they dwarfed him.
“Firrneth,” Mohira suddenly said sharply. One of the bodyguards left the wall, approached, and bowed.
“Your Majesty.”
“Take your men to guard outside, please.”
The man bowed again. “Your Majesty. Allow me to leave one guard-”
“All of them.”
Once again, Firrneth bowed, deeper this time than the others. “Your Majesty.”
He jerked a wing towards the exit, and the bodyguards followed him out.
“Thanks,” Tobias told Mohira awkwardly.
“I would not want you to feel – hunted,” the Consort answered him neutrally.
Was that a joke? Tobias wondered. If so, the Consort had a rather sick sense of humor. Reminded of the letters he'd exchanged with this man, Tobias felt his lip raise up to show his canines clearly. The Consort smiled back, and Tobias found himself unsure whether he was being mocked or not. A quiet growl started in his throat, but he held it in favor of smiling politely back at the Consort.
“Hunted?” he responded. “Why, have you been hunting me? I hadn't noticed. But then, once again, a fifteen-year-old boy and an infant girl make such difficult and dangerous quarry.”
“Yes,” the Consort answered, still smiling. “It was helpful of you, though, to hand me the information about the Amazon and the Seelie Heir. It made your note about Hogwarts almost superflous.”
“Mohira.”
“It will not harm the boy to be more careful, Sheyanan,” the Consort said without turning his gaze from Tobias'. “He knew he was being tracked, and it was a foolish error to make, whether or not I am actually dangerous to him.”
Realizing that the Consort was addressing him as much as his wife, Tobias nodded slightly. Somehow the reprimand made him a little less worried about the Consort's intentions. Though he could have calculated that, he reminded himself. And the man could wipe the floor with him, if he wanted to. But he doesn't. Lliannan would have told me.
“Soo...what now?” Tobias asked when the silence became awkward.
“Your Headmaster has requested that we meet with him, when we are done here, however beforehand we hoped we might ask you some questions, as well as answer any questions you might have,” Sheyanan answered him.
“Okay,” Tobias said dubiously, “what did you want to ask me?”
Sheyanan and Mohira looked at each other for a moment, and it was again Sheyanan who spoke. “We...have received a request from our Elven ambassador for a formal audience with you. He wishes to make a formal apology, and we hoped that you would allow us to prepare you to receive it. How did he offend you?”
Tobias furrowed his brow, confused. “I...don't think I've even met your ambassador,” he told them.
“Are you certain?” Sheyanan asked.
Elven. Draco Malfoy was elven, but then he was just a kid. They couldn't be talking about him, could they? “You mean Kahrn?” he asked finally. “He scared me, once, but that was months ago, and he didn't even know who I was...”
“No, Kahrn is a commoner,” Mohira answered. “Our Ambassador is a nobleman, an Elflord named Lucius Malfoy.”
“Lucius Malfoy?” Tobias asked, “I do know him, actually. But no, I haven't seen him in months. Are you sure you're talking about him, and not his son?”
Mohira grimaced. “Lucius Malfoy is the Head of the Malfoy household. He could very well wish to apologize for his son, if the offense were grave enough. What did Malfoy junior do?”
“He insulted Mo and me,” Tobias explained, “but then he already apologized. Why would Lucius have to apologize, too?”
“That would depend on the situation,” Sheyanan explained. “How did you react to the apology?”
“It...didn't seem sincere,” Tobias said slowly. “I didn't really know how to react, so I-” oh. Oh, shit. “I ignored it. That's a problem, isn't it?”
“It is certainly why his father is worried about losing his position, yes,” Sheyanan answered. “You need training, Tobias-she.”
I do if I'm going to stick with all of this stupid Heir crap, Tobias thought irritatedly. “I do not have the time,” he told her. “I'm barely squeaking by in my classes as it is.”
“I am certain that we could arrange a schedule that would serve you better than your current one, and teach you what you need to know,” Mohira told him.
“And I am certain that I am staying here,” Tobias retorted. “You need my help a hell of a lot more than I need yours, thank you.”
The look Mohira gave him in response made him shiver. When he spoke, his voice was cold as ice. “By our laws, you are our heir, and our Second's only parent. Nothing we do or say can change that. However we would prefer no heir at all, to one that cares nothing for his duty to our people. You are correct, that we cannot force you to accept the job that is yours. You could take the rank, and the honor, and the money, without helping us at all, and without allowing us to teach you those things relevent to your duties. You could drive our country into the ground. We can only hope that your own sense of honor will prevent you.”
Tobias winced. Okay, harsh. There wasn't much he could really say to that, but - “Alternatively, I could accept nothing more from you at all, and go about my life here at Hogwarts with Mo.”
“With bodyguards,” the Consort informed him icily. “We cannot order you to accept them, but we can still order them to protect you and Moriyana. At which point you would still be accepting our protection, and our daughter, and the fame that comes with being named our Heir, without accepting any of the duty that comes with it. And you would, once again, be quietly but definitely weakening our positions as Monarchs and your daughter's position as Heir. You would endanger all three of us, and damage our country.”
“And it's still not my problem,” Tobias told him harshly.
The Consort didn't even bat an eyelash. “As I said,” he repeated. “It is on your honor alone.”
Tobias closed his eyes, unable to escape the Consort's damning words. The Consort had simply stated fact. Nothing more, nothing less. The fact that his facts were spoken in harsh, uncompromising terms that made Tobias sound like a total schmuck did not detract from their truth. Fuck. There goes my life, yet again.
“I don't like you,” he informed the Consort finally. “Your entire family has mucked about in my life without a thought for how I might feel about it, and you personally have been hunting me like a dog for a month. Now you ask me to help you, and even manage to make it sound like I'm morally required to do so. You're a total asshole and I really don't want to cooperate with you at all.”
The Consort listened to him gravely, but finally gave Tobias a genuine smile. “You'll do it.”
Tobias shook his head, disbelieving. “I'll do it.”