"Still, you only being half-fey is enough for my enemies to attempt to control me through you. Or, perhaps, to turn you against me. You are more dangerous than you know, daughter. Because of the threat you represent, you must remain here."

"I can't stay here! I have to find my brother! That's the reason why I came here!"

"You will stay until I deem otherwise," Oberon said, in the tone my mother often used when she settled the matter. Because I said so. "At the very least, until Elysium is through. The Winter Court will be arriving in a few days, and I will have you where I can see you." He clapped, and a female satyr broke away from the crowd to bow before him. "Take my daughter to her room," he ordered, sitting back on his throne. "See that she is made comfortable."

"Yes, my lord," murmured the satyr, and began to clop away, glancing back to see if Amelia was coming. Oberon leaned back, not looking at her, his face blank and stony.

Her audience with the Erlking was over.

She sighed quietly.
'Ethan I hope you're ok...'
She followed the satyr, keeping her backpack on one shoulder.

"Begging your pardon, my lord," Grimalkin said, sitting up and curling his tail around himself, "but our business is not yet complete. You see, the girl is in my debt. She promised me a favor for bringing her safely here, and that obligation has yet to be paid."

"That is true... But he did not tell me what the favor was..."

He sighed. "Very well, Cait Sith. What would you have of me?"

Grimalkin lowered his eyelids. It was easy to see that the cat was purring. "A small favor, great lord," he rumbled, "to be called in at a later time."

"Granted." The Erlking nodded, and yet he seemed to grow bigger in his chair. His shadow loomed over the cat, who blinked and flattened his ears. Thunder growled overhead, the light in the forest dimmed, and a cold wind rattled the branches in the trees, showering them with petals. The rest of the court shrank away; some vanished from sight completely. In the sudden darkness, Oberons eyes glowed amber. "But be warned, feline," he boomed, his voice making the ground quiver. "I am not to be trifled with. Do not think to make a fool out of me, for I can grant your request in insurmountably unpleasant ways."

"Of course, great Erlking," Grimalkin soothed, his fur whipping about in the gale. "I am always your servant."

"I would be foolish indeed to trust the flattering words of a cait sith." Oberon leaned back, his face an expressionless mask once more. The wind died down, the sun returned, and things were normal again. "You have your favor. Now go."

Grimalkin bowed his head, turned, and trotted back to Amelia, bottlebrush tail held high.

She turned back to the satyr.
"I think we can go? I'm not really sure how the rules are." She asked, a bit nervous.

The satyr touched her arm. "This way," she murmured, and led her away from the court.

She didn't resist, she continued to follow the satyr.