A Letter, a Crush, a Curiosity, and a Dance

Disclaimer: Own nothing and no one used herein
Title: Fae Key
Author: Kate R.
Rating: Teen
Pairings: None so far
Fandoms: Buffy/Merry Gentry
Summary: Dawn isn't Joyce's daughter
Notes: Buffy said 'Summers' Blood', not thinking about he fact her mother wasn't a Summers. I interpreted that to mean something else in this. If you don't like it or don't like male ties being important please do not read this fic. I am not answering the same question ten times. The answer is in the first part as to how Buffy could Die for Dawn but they only be half sisters.
Also: Jack Frost is a finder of lost kids and winter lost travelers as well as the spirit of winter itself. I'm using it in this fic. Deal. As for Dawn's thoughts about everyone still alive but Giles? She is grieving. Kindly remember that 'Before' you scream and flame.

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Dear Xander,

I don't hate you.

You just made me so mad that I had to lash out. But don't feel bad, if Willow had been there, I'd have blasted her too.

I guess you want to know why I was so mad, huh? Honest truth is I wasn' really. Mad at you that is. I was mad at Buffy for leaving me, at mom for the same, and you just happened to be there when I needed someone to blame.

Course, you blamed Angel for some things that he didn't do, like Buffy liking him and not you and Jesse dying, I guess, if you've changed as much as Wesley said you have you understand. I miss you a lot.

We were having a snowball fight in the dining hall last night, yeah, my friend Jack, the guy you accused of being a demon, he made it snow in the hall as a gift to the Unseelie Sidhe. I know you, like a lot of other humans, likely think the Seelie is better but at least the Unseelie don't lie about who they are. I guess you heard about your parents. If I told you Frost was the one who did it, would you be mad? He sensed it in you, the abuse you hid and were mad that he wasn't there to save you from, and he wanted to make the people who hurt a child pay. He started with them because they hurt someone I care about.

Yeah, you read right, I care about you.

I was only given two options when Andais found out you upset me: You worked for Angel and, hopefully, learned not to judge or you were given to my step-aunt as a pet. And, as she's something of a sexual sadist, I didn't think you'd like that.

Anyway, I wanted you to know that I was thinking about you and I miss you. Merry said maybe when we get back to LA you can visit us. I'd like that.

I'm sorry I yelled at you.

I'm not sorry you got int trouble for your attitude but I am sorry for what I said or thought . . . or whatever.

I don't hate you though, I just wanted you to know.

Love,
Dawn

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The letter was mailed by Sholto on one of his trips out while they were staying underhill. Dawn had a sneaking suspeicion she had a crush on the Slaugh King. He was pretty, tentacles and all, he had played with them before any of the pure Sidhe nobles other than the Queen had, he laughed at their games while others looked scandalized, he seemed to get it wasn't always about being pretty and perfectly Sidhe, but that sometimes life was just about living and simple pleasures like a laugh or a smile.

His laughter was a pretty sound to Dawn, it could be joyous and sad, and all the other things a real person who was more than a plastic picture of Sidhe perfection admitting to feeling, and she needed that. She needed it a lot.

"You like him, don't you?" Merry asked as Dawn watched Sholto after he'd taken her letter to Xander.

"Yes," Dawn admitted, "I do. He's different, like me. He doesn't seem to fit any place, like me, and he played with us. He played with us without Aunt Andais having to make it almost an order."

"He's immortal, like you," Merry told her, "And, as proof he may like you, too? I've never heard him offer to be a mail-man for anyone. He took that letter to LA for you. No one asked him to, he told Aunt Andais it would be his honor to do such for a beautiful lady. His exact words. And if you knew how he felt about a lot of ladies at court? You'd know the honor that is."

"He . . . might like me?" Dawn asked. Because she'd told Merry she wasn't between thirteen and fourteen, she was fifteen and would be sixteen in January. And she knew Sidhe dating and age of consent were different. And she really wanted to date Sholto. Maybe he'd date her. Maybe. If he was more patient than the other Sidhe who'd looked at her like she was choice meat. Except the Wolf Lord. He'd slapped one of his own people for saying he'd take Dawn in a second.

"I think he likes you just fine," Frost told her, "It is not often that Sholto, King of the Slaugh, Lord of that Which passes Between, jumps into and plays a game as if he has no other cares in the world but to play with a lady who convinced me to make it snow. And, I think, of all those here, Sholto would treat you the best. He is, at core, a nobleman and he would not see you hurt by his hand."

"Oh," Dawn breathed, "Cool. How's Damian?"

"He is . . . resting," Merry said, softly, "He had five hands of power."

"Wow!" Dawn breathed.

"Wow is right," Doyle said, "Because that is not supposed to be possible. We are surmising it had to do with the fact that he was turned. He surmises that this is the reason turning a Sidhe is forbidden."

"I'm guessing someone's in trouble?" Dawn asked.

"'Big' Trouble," Frost told her, "But that is not a concern for you, little one. I do believe Lord Sholto would like to ask you to dance with him this eve. As this party is for you, who you dance with is entirely up to you."

"Oh," Dawn spoke as she got up and walked towards the King of the Slaugh.

"King Sholto," she said, using his title and not caring what pure Sidhe asshole was listening, "May I have the honor of a dance with you?"

The look on his face, that she had asked him to dance with her first, was priceless. He nodded and stood, taking her hand and leading her to the dance floor. As this party was for her, she would have the first dance. And her first partner would be telling about what she thought of things.

"Drop the glamour," she whispered against his neck as they danced, "I like my dates to be as they are, not as they think others thinks they should be."

"My deformity . . ."

"It's not a deformity," Dawn said and hugged him, "I like them. I think they look good on you."

"Oh" he whispered as he let the glamour of his shirt and looking normal fade. Dawn grinned as his tentacles held her as much as his arms were.

"Much better," she said as they danced.

Once the dance ended, Dawn leaned up and kissed his cheek.

"Keep your card open for me," she told him, "You're a great dancer."

"Thank you," he said, bowing to her, "I shall save you dances, My Lady."

Dawn giggled and went to dance with her adopted brothers, Merry's harem. She started with Frost, her best friend, then Doyle, Rhys, Galen, Nicca, and even Kitto. Then she went to dance with Damian. After that, she danced almost exclusively with Sholto. Except two dances with the Wolf Lord and one with Barinithus. She danced with them, too, because they had been nice to her and she valued kindness and honesty.

"You are quite a lady, dawn," Sholto told her at the end of the night.

"Then would you escort a lady to her rooms?" Dawn asked, "My mom, Joyce, not Besaba, told me you always leave the dance with the man you arrived with."

"I did not bring you," he said.

"You were my first dance partner, though," Dawn told him, "So you're my date for the evening. And I hope we can do this again some time."

"As do I," Sholto told her, taking her arm to do as she'd asked, "I had a lovely time."

"Me too," she said, kissing his lips this time, "Good night."

"Good night, Dawn," he said as she closed the door, "Sleep well, My Lady."

And . . . she did.