As soon as Midge opened her eyes, she knew something wasn't right.

First of all, she was waking up, and she did not remember going to bed. Second of all, she was not curled in the corner of her meadowgrass-stuffed cot, but rather in the center of an enormous featherbed. Black silk sheets covered her, though it wasn't cold, and glancing beneath them she blushed scarlet to realize she was completely naked.

Hastily pulling the black sheets around her body again, she scrambled out of the impossibly soft bed. Her bare feet landed in an equally soft black carpet flung across the stone floor and she frowned. She did not recognize this material. This entire room, with its dark, elegant tapestries and enormous mirror mounted upon the ceiling, spoke of passion and wickedness. The room was lit only by candles that lined the walls and shelves, which burned with a blue flame that never flickered or faltered.

"The Unseelie court," she whispered, hunching her shoulders and pulling the sheet tighter about them like a cloak. She must have been kidnapped; it was the only explanation.

"Remember, you have to remember," she murmured, pacing across to the tall wooden wardrobe at the opposite end of the room. She had been going about her duties, and... she'd been sent to fetch more nymphroot from the Shimmerdread Pool for supper, and...

And nothing. It was all blank. Yanking open the middle drawer of the wardrobe, she shuffled through the various items of clothing until she found a long, loose black tunic. Pulling it over her head, she straightened it until it hit mid-thigh, then tossed the sheets back onto the bed. The clothes in that wardrobe were strange, too, an unfamiliar style, but they looked mostly masculine, to her, which gave her only more reason to fear.

What would the Unseelie court have to gain from abducting a greyfolk like Midge? Nobody would miss her, aside from perhaps Cricket, and he would not be able to convince the Queen to pay ransom of any value for Midge.

Perhaps it was some sort of mistake. Midge did not know, but even as she contemplated and her heart raced, she heard the click of a key in the door.

Snatching up a long, sharp letter opener from the desk, Midge turned to face the door and readied herself to stab and run. What she saw step through the door, however, was not a twisted, sensual nightmare from the Unseelie court, but rather... a Shadar-kel.

This one was slender and small, clad completely in black, with hundreds of mysterious tattoos decorating his pale skin, just like every other Shadar-kel she had seen. His face was difficult to see much of beneath the thick hood drawn up over his features, but she definitely caught the gleam of daggers in the ceremonial belt at his waist, and the sheen of rings on his fingers where they rested on those dagger handles.

"Ah. You are awake."

Midge's eyes raced back up to the Shadar-kel's face, fixating on the only part of him emerging into the light; his full mouth and a small, rounded chin. A dimple appeared in the center of it when he smiled a slow, patient smile, and suddenly Midge was quite certain she was not at the Unseelie court after all.

"How are you feeling, my intriguing Mud Maiden?" The Shadar-kel stepped more fully into the room, but kept the door open behind him, and Midge leaned to make sure there was nobody else coming. The corridor held only darkness beyond.

"Mud Maiden?" That was a new one. Midge licked her dry lips, pushing the long, loose sleeves of the tunic up her wrists. "What is that? Where am I? What am I doing here?"

"I am Emory Shadar-kel, and you are under my protection if you wish it." Still he did not remove his hood, but paced forward to stop a few feet in front of her. "I have the same question for you, in fact, young lady. Were you causing mischief on my island?"

Mischief. Well every fae had a penchant for mischief, even greyfolk. It could very well have been her, whatever 'it' was, but she did not remember. "No, I wasn't. I promise. Please, can you tell me... where I am?"

The Shadar-kel was still for a moment, before a long sigh escaped him and he drew his hood back from his face, removing his cloak completely and tossing it onto the bed behind Midge. She could see now his ageless, smooth features, eyes dark and piercing beneath exaggerated brows that lifted to a high point at his temples. His cheekbones were sharp too, and his nose was small and delicate. His form was athletic, slender and corded with muscle, and his features were almost feminine when she took them in as a whole; for a moment she questioned if she had guessed his gender correctly. It was often difficult to tell with Shadar-kel, and some chose not to identify as a specific gender at all.

"You are in Gloomshadow mansion, on the Island of the Fay." He paused as if he expected her to know what that was.

Surely there was no island in the Queen's domain with that name; at least, none she had ever heard of. It seemed a bit on the nose, after all... the entire Faewild was an island of fae, so to speak. Perhaps that was what this person meant.

Emory's shoulders dropped and the tips of his long, elegant ears curved down in a sign of disappointment at her silence. "You know, from the Poe essay?"

"Poe?" Midge wasn't sure what he was talking about, but attempted to keep her expression smooth. She had no idea what was going on, therefore it was best to give nothing away. "Oh, yes, of course."

She paused, but more information did not seem forthcoming as he just studied her through those steady dark eyes, so she cleared her throat. "And in what region of the world is this Island of the Fay located?"

"The Southern Seas," Emory said slowly, again as if that ought to be obvious. "Where were you before you popped up on our shores?"

"But that's on the Munda..." Midge trailed off before she could give away more, but Emory's eyes had already sharpened, and his ears twitched forward again.

"You aren't from the Mundane? But you are not of the Shadowfell either," he mused, glancing up and down her form once more.

His scrutiny was so intense Midge fought the urge to squirm before him. She was not used to people paying attention to her at all, let alone this much attention. "No, not the Shadowfell. I've never been there. You are telling me I am on the Mundane plane right now?" She had already let it slip, she might as well get more information out of it.

"Yes. And I'll presume you were not before. Where, then? What... are you?"

Midge took another deep breath and looked around. The Mundane plane. She couldn't be in too terrible of danger, then; from all reports the place was populated by human beings, in the vast majority. But how had she gotten here? Looking at Emory's face she could see the patience of his smile beginning to waver, and she knew she would get no further asking without telling.

"I am Midge," she said, weighing each word with care.

"Midge, it's nice to meet you. Again, I'm Emory. Where are you from?"

"I don't know, I can't remember. I can't remember anything, it's just a blank."

Emory looked at her as if he clearly didn't believe her, and she could not blame him. It hadn't exactly been convincing. "Well, do you know how to get back there?"

Midge shook her head again. She wasn't used to this, having to be the one with the answers, and the longer she stood here, the weaker she began to feel. Swaying on her feet, she pressed her fingertips to the center of her chest to try and slow her racing heart. "In truth, I have no idea what is going on."

"Me neither." Emory looked even more disgruntled, but when she swayed again he shook his head and stepped forward. Though his hands were large and rough for his small frame, they were still gentle as they reached up to clasp her shoulders and guide her back towards the bed. "You need more rest, that is clear, and probably food."

"I... all right..." Midge was used to following orders, but from her Queen, not some shadow-dweller who refused to answer questions. Heat suffused her cheeks but she lifted her chin and sat on the bed. "Perhaps if you were to tell me everything, where you found me, when, what is going on, I would remember more."

"First you rest. I shall bring Rubius, he'll know what to do with you. And I'll tell you everything then." Emory bent over her, his brown eyes anxious, and Midge shrank back, unaccustomed to sharing personal space with anyone, let alone a stranger. Still his eyes lingered on her face, kind and concerned, with a hint of suspicion that seemed only wise in the circumstances. "You have my word."

"Very... Very well." It would be rude to doubt the honoured word of a Shadar-kel. She felt her eyes fluttering half-closed and licked her lips, frowning. "May I have some water?"

"I'll bring some," Emory promised, leaning back again and disappearing from view.

Somehow Midge found herself ensconced in black silk once more and a wave of sleepiness rolled over her. She hadn't been aware of it until now, due to the shock of her surroundings, but her body ached. Every muscle felt pounded to a pulp, and she found she had no more protests left to offer. The truth was simple. She was already late returning to her post, and she was on another damned plane. 

There was no need to worry about her queen here. There was only a need to rest.