Fairy Godmother

So, if you want respect from a Godmother, you have to earn it, I suppose.

He climbed the ladder to his loft-room slowly, and as he poked his head through the hole in the floor, he realized that tonight he was disinclined to read anything. He didn't even light his lamp; he merely blew out the one he had brought with him and stripped down in the darkness. Instead of reading, he climbed into his bed, and lay there with his hands clasped behind his head, thinking.

No, I don't think I want to go home. Not unless something horrible happens to Octavian; Father would need me then. But as long as they know that I'm all right, I suppose it wouldn't matter to them where I am. So where should I go, and what could I do?

Julian might be able to use him; he'd always gotten along reasonably well with Julian. Truth to tell, though his brother was probably handling the civilians in his new land well enough, where the military was concerned, Julian wouldn't have a clue. According to Alexander's instructors, it was usually better all the way around for a ruler's Commander-in-Chief to be someone he trusted and knew, personally.

He could probably talk Julian into giving him the position. The real question was how Julian's new people would feel about it. And there were other things to consider; what the shape of Julian's army was, if he even had an army. If he didn't — well, in that case there was no doubt; there was a place for him at Julian's side. Building an army up from nothing, or back up from decay — yes, he knew how to do that, in theory at least.

But of course, if Julian happened to have a perfectly good army, and a Commander-in-Chief that suited him, then even if Alexander talked him into the job, there would be a colossal amount of resentment. No, he wouldn't walk into that particular tiger-pit...not without a lot of forethought and planning, anyway.

It might be worth it. Especially if he'd actually be able to accomplish something.

He tried to think of all of the possible ramifications and repercussions, and found himself drifting off to sleep. And as he relaxed and his concentration faded away, one final, very odd thought floated up through the formless, shapeless stuff of his dreams.

I wish — it's a pity the Godmothers don't need an army....

It was probably a good thing, after all, that it had taken Elena the better part of two hours to get home again. By the time she drove up to her door, she had managed to cry herself out, find a stream, wash her face, and get herself looking no worse than tired.

Hob was waiting for her, ready to take the donkey and cart, but surprisingly, Rose was right at the door. And she hadn't even gotten across the threshold before Rose made it very clear why she'd been waiting — or rather, lying in wait — in order to get a very particular complaint lodged before anyone else could say anything. She started at the front entry and continued her complaint all the way up the stairs and on into the suite.

' — in your rooms, if you please, the whole day. Not a jot of work done, and that Randolf acting like the lord of the manor — '

'I did not act like the lord of the manor,' came Randolf's voice, muffled by the velvet drapes that had been drawn across the face of the mirror. 'I merely told Lily that in my opinion, and based on my presentiment, the young man needed to be here to see what you were doing with his brother.'

Elena went to the mirror and pulled back the drapes. Randolf was ensconced squarely in the center of the mirror, looking seriously miffed. 'I do not often have premonitory feelings, Godmother,' he said stiffly, 'but when I do, I am not accustomed to having them questioned.' He looked down his long nose at Rose, who sniffed scornfully. 'Really, Godmother. Particularly from a creature with no experience at predictive magic, and no — '

'Thank you, Randolf,' Elena said, interrupting him by holding up her hand. 'I do understand your feelings, but it is Rose's duty to act in a manner that protects my interests.' Rose looked smug for a moment, but Elena continued. 'However, you are entirely correct; your previous owners did use you to foretell the future in a very limited way as we both know, and although you lost some of that ability when Bella gave you more freedom, when you do feel a prescient impulse, it is wise for us to act upon it. If this happens again in my absence, I would wish you to speak with the others first, and let them know your reasons before you act, just so that everyone knows what is happening and why.'

Now both of them gave a derisive sniff, which — since it probably meant that neither of them felt the victor in the disagreement — was the best she was going to manage.

Silly geese. Randolf took the attitude that since he was entirely a magical entity, and had served only Queens and Kings among Dark Sorcerers, he was somehow higher up in the Faerie ranks than a mere House-Elf. He was, in his nonexistent bones, a snob. While Rose, who had served Godmothers for hundreds of years here, believed in her heart of hearts that any decision she made in a Godmother's absence should take precedence; in her own way, she was just as much of a snob as Randolf, which meant that they were doomed to clash. Robin and Hob either humored her or ignored her when she was in this mood, but Lily enjoyed slyly tweaking her skirts, and it was clear to Elena that this time Randolf and Lily had conspired together to take Rose down a peg.

Well, here was the one valuable piece of advice that Madame Klovis had ever given regarding the staff — When the servants begin quarreling, stay out of it. The rest of the advice, All you will do is inflate their already bloated opinions of themselves, was utter nonsense, but the first part was right enough.

'I would have told the Prince everything anyway,' Elena continued, ignoring the sniffs, 'but I don't think anything but good can come of his actually seeing it all unfold. It will probably give him extra motivation to prove that he has reformed and is ready to go back to his family himself.'

That last cost her a pang; she ignored it. Rose looked a little more mollified, but Randolf frowned. 'But, Godmother, that's — ' he began, but once again Elena cut him off. 'Rose, I am wearied to death. Could the rest of this wait until morning?'

Rose flushed, mortified at being caught at permitting her own grudge to interfere with the well-being of the