Homelands Pt. 08 Ch. 03

"Ready when you are," Cahill said with a shrug.

Kearney gave him a nod. His mother was already halfway to her feet.

So with that, the three of them left the Dreaming.

#

Kearney watched in silent wonder as his little pixie danced atop the thin tree branch. Sparks trailed after her feet and rained down from her fingertips. Yet, aside from her one-woman fireworks display, there was no sign of her passing. The slender bough didn't so much as bend or groan as she leaped and twirled her way through an Olympic floor exercise routine. Her gossamer wings gently beat against the twilight without making a sound or even disturbing a single leaf. Grace was certainly not a quality the fey lacked, but the proud father was certain that Faerie had never before seen a creature as abundantly blessed with it as his daughter evidently was.

He waited for the pause in her routine that he hoped was inevitable, preferring to reveal himself without interrupting her. The longer he stood there watching her though, the clearer it became that no such opportune moment was going present itself. It seemed that his little Teagan would dance until the end of time, all by herself, if the world would let her.

His heart raced as it never had before. Not in recent memory, anyway. How long had it been since he'd felt even a little nervous when approaching a woman? He didn't even know.

In the Dreaming, where he'd dwelt for entirely too long, that had never been a concern. Without even trying, he'd seduced countless young women. Every time he turned around, he was married to a different one. But here, he wasn't special, except in ways that were anything but flattering. The women of his family mostly found him attractive enough, but no more so than any of his brothers. Would his daughter be any different? How would she view him compared to her brother or her uncles? Her Walker cousins?

Did she even know that he was her father?

Caronwyn and her sister had promised never to tell their children the truth of their parentage. Cahill had somehow learned the truth anyway, but most of the Walker kids neither knew nor cared who their fathers were. Macha had made no such vow. Had she told Teagan the truth, or had she named Arawn the father of both her children?

He'd been away from Faerie since before his daughter came of age. His brother had not. And though Macha had never been as fond of Arawn as he was of her, particularly after she'd been forced to yield the Emerald Court to him, their brother was the prince now. That carried serious weight, especially with their mother. If Arawn wanted Macha's children to call him Daddy, they'd call him Daddy, and believe it truth.

Kearney could have simply asked his sister what she'd told her children, of course. But he didn't want to see Macha just yet. Not until he'd introduced himself to Teagan.

"Hello there," he called out as he emerged from the shadow.

"Oh!" his daughter exclaimed, snapping still.

He'd caught her by surprise, but she still hadn't misplaced her step. She stood perched as firmly atop the tree branch as she would have solid ground. The sparks from the last sweep of her leg descended slowly, winking out before they reached the ground. Otherwise, perfect stillness reigned.

"Didn't mean to startle you," he said after an awkward pause.

As his daughter's eyes bore into him, Kearney found himself wishing he had a more noble fey form. When he'd first awakened from the Dreaming, everything about Faerie and its people had amused him. Unsurprisingly then, Faerie had assigned him a fey identity as absurd as he found his very existence to be. Where his brothers appeared as elves and satyrs and owlmen, Kearney was a dwarf. And not the kind found in Tolkien film adaptations. Those were respectable enough, if not exactly sex symbols. No, Kearney looked more or less like he'd stepped right out of Disney's Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs. Cute, adorable, and entirely unworthy of being taken seriously.

To introduce himself to his daughter while wearing his true form would have violated fey custom. She might even think him a slumbering mortal. Once they'd made their introductions, he could slip back into his own skin. But by then the damage would already be done. One could only make so many first impressions.

For a moment, he considered running away, sparing himself the pain and humiliation he'd feel when she treated him like a newborn puppy. Too late now, though. He already had her attention. It would only be more awkward to pretend he'd never happened upon her.

His daughter held her hands out to her sides and stepped into the open air. Wings flapping silently and sparks trailing behind her, she slowly drifted toward the ground. A leaf might have fallen more rapidly, and with fewer twirls.

With a deep breath that failed to slow his racing heart, Kearney offered his daughter a deep bow. The long white beard he wore in this form swept the dirt below him.

"Teagan," the beautiful little pixie said, offering a quick curtsey. Damn, but she was cute. Cuter than cute. Gorgeous, really, though her round cheeks and youthful appearance made the former seem appropriate. "Of Clan Dreamsmyth."

So far, so good. No laughing or squealing or hugging him like a teddy bear.

Kearney took a moment to simply drink in his daughter's incredible beauty. She had thin lips, like her mother, but with a more pronounced cupid's bow. Whereas Macha's blonde hair was nearly silver, Teagan's resembled spun gold. The oversized eyes staring up at him were twin sapphires. Her skin was as fair as he'd ever seen, and her pearly white teeth glittered like diamonds. She had the cutest little nose, a pointy chin, and ears even pointier than those found on the rest of the fey.

In his current form, he stood almost two feet shorter than usual. Yet still he towered over the little pixie. That didn't necessarily say anything about their true height differential, but it was nice to have someone look up at him, despite his reduced stature.

He immediately knew that he loved her more than he'd ever loved another living thing. More than he ever would love anyone else.

"Kearney," he replied, "Also of Clan Dreamsmyth."

"Really?" his daughter asked. She had the cutest little voice. It was almost squeaky, it was so high in pitch. Some men might have found that irritating. But it only deepened his desire to rain kisses on her. She couldn't have been cuter. "You must be my uncle!"

He fought back a frown.

"Or...not?" Teagan said.

"Your mother's my sister," he said in a tone that implied he was agreeing with her.

In a sense, he was her uncle. But having sired her, he was her father first and foremost. With the fey, the stronger connection trumped all others.

His daughter scrunched up her face in distaste. Well, confusion, more likely. But if she'd caught a whiff of some foul odor, she'd undoubtedly have made the same expression.

After a fashion, she said, "Anyway, pleased to meet you," and offered him a slender hand.

He accepted her offering. Her hand was so small, he almost feared he'd crush it.

He'd just started to savor the rush of ecstasy that shot through his palm and up his arm when Teagan pulled him down. As he bent over, she went up on tiptoes and planted a kiss on his cheek. The feel of her soft lips against his bearded cheek warmed him from head to toe. His whole body tingled and his lungs expelled air as a second wave of pleasure radiated out from where their skin had made contact.

Perhaps his daughter didn't care that he looked like a cartoon.

"You're blushing," Teagan said to him as she settled back onto her feet. She conveniently failed to mention that she was doing the same. Hands tucked behind her back, she looked down and away. But try as she might to make herself even smaller, there was no hiding the color in her otherwise ivory cheeks.

"You must get that a lot," Kearney replied.

The pink spots became crimson clouds.

"Sorry," he said, clearing his throat. "It's just that I've been away from Faerie for a long time. I find myself overwhelmed."

"Where've you been?" she asked, twirling her toes in the dirt.

It was a perfectly natural question, yet the way she said it made it sound awkward.

"The Dreaming," Kearney replied.

She nodded. "I haven't been back since I awoke," Teagan said. "Mom won't let me."

"What?" Kearney asked. "That's ridiculous."

"She lets Duncan," his daughter added.

So Kearney grabbed her by the hand and took her there.

He hadn't thought to set foot in the Dreaming again any time soon, but his daughter deserved to exercise her right as Dreamsmyth.

"Where are-" his daughter began, before letting out a squeal of delight when she saw the castle looming above them and the crowds of tourists milling about them. "Is this really Disneyland?" she asked, speaking through her fingers.

He nodded.

They'd reverted to their true forms the moment they'd passed through the barrier between the two worlds, as ever. Kearney noted that his daughter was quite diminutive in her true form as well. He had a nearly a foot on her, which he wasn't at all accustomed to. She wasn't as short as her grandmother, the fair Queen Titania, but it was a close thing. And she was far more petite. He wouldn't have minded if she had a bit more in the way of breasts, but he liked how narrow her waist and hips were, how perfectly flat her ass was, and how closely her legs resembled drinking straws. Voluptuous had never been his cup of tea.

"Can we wear our fey forms?" she asked, clapping her hands together.

Kearney laughed at her exuberance. He'd never seen anyone get so excited about, well, anything. It was infectious. And painfully cute.

"We can," he said.

So they did.

They were supposed to disguise themselves as mortals whenever they visited the Dreaming, at least if they were going to be seen in public. But this place had to be an exception. Nonetheless, to ensure that the mortals would assume that they were simply wearing costumes, he and Teagan adjusted their fey forms. His daughter made herself look even more like Tinker Bell than she had a moment before, and Kearney became Bashful.

The hours fell away. Smiling children greeted them wherever they want. They rode the rides and saw the sights, sang songs and played games. After the sun set, they watched a fireworks show. Throughout it all, his daughter never stopped smiling.

After a delightful dinner, they retired to their suite.

"Can't believe they had a room in your name," his daughter said as she plopped down onto the bed. No longer dressed as Tinker Bell, she wore a silver sequined halter and matching skirt that would have made her look like a call girl if she didn't look young enough to pass for a girl who didn't know any better. "That shouldn't surprise me, but I guess I never thought about what we can get away with here."

Kearney smiled at her before he pulled his shirt up over his head.

Impossibly blue eyes froze as they drank in his naked torso. She hadn't seen him in his true form for more than a few seconds so far, and even then he'd been fully clothed. She clearly liked what she saw, and he almost couldn't believe how good that made him feel.

"Get used to it," he said.

A frown formed on his daughter's face. It didn't suit her at all.

"Mom's gonna freak out," Teagan said. "Ohmygod. I can't believe I-"

"You let me worry about your mother," he said. "A father's got as much right to-"

"Father?" she asked, eyes wide. "I thought-"

"He's your uncle," Kearney said, cutting her off. "Duncan's his. But you're mine."

Her beautiful blue orbs went wider still. The smile she'd worn earlier returned. "Really?"

"I couldn't lie to you even if I wanted to," he said, as if she didn't know the ways of their kind as well as he did. "And I'd rather chew my arm off than do that."

The halter and skirt disappeared, leaving his daughter in nothing but a thong and a pair of shiny heels. Her tiny little tits stared at him, pink nipples sticking straight out. The distance between them vanished. Before Kearney quite knew what had happened, he found himself holding his daughter in his arms, her warm mouth pressed to his.

"It's a small world after all," Teagan said after their lips parted.

They broke into an awkward laugh at the same time. Even considering where they were, it was a pretty cheesy thing to say.

Very few words were spoken after that.