It was Puck's favorite time of year, the heart of winter, the pinnacle of the Winter Court's power and thus the time when unseelie like himself had something akin to free reign. He usually took advantage of the season as often as he could back in the old world, but here in Pentamerone he was still trying to catch his stride even after all this time. That frustrated him to no end. And that was a dangerous mood for him to be in.
Perched in the shadows on a low-hanging branch, whistling out a haunting tune through the thin bit of reed he had cupped in his hands, Puck half hoped the music drew the attention of some unsuspecting mortal. He was long due for some entertainment.
Oberon heard the familiar tune and recognized his good friend. Looking upward he saw the fae perched in a tree, obviously looking for mischief. "Goodfellow," he called lightly, lest there by mortals nearby to play with. "How do you fare on that low branch?"
He recognized the voice immediately and his lips curved briefly before his mood stole it away again. Tossing the reed to the wayside, he stretched out on his side on the branch, head propped on an arm. "I fare fairly enough, my Lord. Though I fear I may waste away from boredom if I don't find myself some proper mischief soon." not one to stay in one place for too long, he shifted again, swinging down to hang from the branch by his knees. "And how fare you, King? Better than myself, I hope."
"Fair enough in our high season," he replied with a little wink. "I am certain there are mortals afoot and plenty to have our fair share of gaming."
He mounted the tree in three footfalls perching upon a higher branch, perhaps in a gesture of one-up-manship, perhaps simply because he always liked to be high within the trees.
"Should we wait long enough someone will step past us."
"But I've been waiting!" The words were petulant, like those of a spoiled child but far more menacing. He swung up into a crouch on his branch before scrambling up the tree with ease to join Oberon, straddling the branch and scowling. "I'm tired of waiting. I want to do." He then added under his breath, his exposure to the old world's modern times, "This sucks."
Oberon wanted to laugh, but he hated to encourage Puck in his moods. "What would you suggest we do?" he asked lightly. "Are so bold as to suggest we leave the woods and cause our usual mischief?"
That got Puck's attention. He sat up straighter, blinking at Oberon as if the thought hadn't even occurred to him - because it hadn't. "Go to them rather than have them come to us?" What an intriguing notion. It would be risky for sure; humans tended to like their iron. But oh the possibilies...A slow, mischievous smile started to curve the fae's lips. "You never fail to entertain, my Lord."
Oberon leaned back on the tree, a small smile riding his lips. Puck was one of the few who had ever seen his smiles. Oberon mused that Puck might even know the full vocabulary of them, which was sparse and highly meaningful. "All in a days work my fair Puck."
"But the day is still young, Obie." The words were as playful as the nickname Puck was allowed on rare occasions. He scooted closer on the limb, legs starting to swing on either side of the branch. "And there's work yet to be done." Lifting himself up into a crouch, he crawled closer still, expression oddly open. "I'll bring my wares. It should make for some fine mischief."
"Hmmm..." Puck considered as he turned to situate himself between Oberon's legs and leaned back against the fairy king's frame, a liberty allowed to Puck and Titania alone and one he took full advantage of. "There's no small number of human towns and cities to choose from. Camlann, Estervale, Lake Raienia...What strikes your fancy, m'Lord?"
One hand crawled over Puck's shoulder and sat comfortably on his chest. He could feel the young fae's heart fluttering like butterflies, practically palpitating in excitement. "They all strike my fancy as places we can play," he whispered into the supple ear so near his lips. "I can hardly be expected to choose one to start with from such a rich buffet."
The butterflies turned into hummingbirds at the light touch, the word slipping warm past his ear in a way that Oberon knew warmed the fairy's blood and made his breath stumble and catch. And suddenly Puck didn't feel like going anywhere at all. "Um..." he said eloquently. "Camlaan's...ripe with the sort that make for good bloody fun. But it's also rich with iron." He paused, a hand rising to lie across Oberon's, finger stroking lightly across his king's knuckles. "I'm up for the risk if you are."
"It isn't worth a damn if there is no risk involved," Oberon replied warmly, though he couldn't help the tiny shiver at the thought of so much iron. A faerie king in shackles was no fit king for the Sleeping Woods. "We must be careful." He caught the fae's fingers in his own, squeezing tightly. "We must have our fun and make all haste away from such a place." There will be more fun after our hijinks, here in the safety of our own trees.
Puck scoffed, sitting up and turning to fix Oberon with an air of confidence that was innate in the fae. "Why hurry away? Like I'd let anything happen to my king." His eyes narrowed, the fairy's mood swinging from amorous to proud to susupicious in mere heartbeats. "Do you doubt me, Oberon?"
"I do not doubt your intentions," he replied carefully. "There are many things about this new land that we do not yet know. Our mischief is long overdue, so I will not deny us our exploration. I only worry for your safety, not mine," he replied honestly. Iron could subdue him for months upon years, but he believed in his faerie heart that he would find a way out if he were trapped. Oberon lingered in these dark thoughts, a thrill of terror coursing through his veins. "We will have our fun and if you choose to linger I will stay so long as you dare."
He regarded Oberon for a moment, certain he was being manipulated in some way but unable to put his finger on exactly how, but he let himself be appeased by the fae king's words. "Well, then. Since that's settled, we should be off. the evening is young, but hardly eternal." He bound to his feet, a wide smile spreading across his face. Perfectly balanced ont he tree branch he offered his hand to help oberon up, more for the contact than to provide actual aid.
The king took the offered hand and rose gracefully to his feet. It hardly seemed possible to have such grace in his chosen form, tall and lank. He took a moment, always stealing these little moments in which he cupped Puck's cheek in one of his big hands. Such a cherubic face, so childlike and yet so full of malice. How much do I love you, my dear, sweet Puck?
Obvlivious to Oberon's thoughts, Puck simply turned his face into that large hand, pressing a kiss to his king's palm before turning and leaping from the tree branch with a delighted laugh. "Catch me if you can, Obie!" And with that, the faerie disappeared through the trees, heading for Camlann.
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