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The old witch threw back the thick curtains of her bedroom windows; letting the early light soak in as the sun just began to peak out over the mountain ranges, paining the sky an obnoxiously dull shade of orange. Daylight was become more and more scarce as they entered the winter months. The early frost of this October had not made the grounds little winged friend very happy, especially after he had to thaw out his wings last week. The dawn cast an out of place glow on the stark woman, her skin barely more hued than the ivory chiffon robe she wore. The robe fit like a gown; the chiffon layered with a slip for modesty, secured at the waist with a jeweled brooch, and trimmed in perfectly white fox fur. The fur trim gave volume and shape to the large, draping sleeves and accentuated her neck and face as well as demonstrating her poise. Her white hair was pulled up and wrapped into a silk turban, in the same shade of ivory as her robe. Sharp brown eyes were dramatically winged and her makeup done in a style that was more suited for evening than the morning’s twilight.

In truth the woman looked out of place for the time she occupied. Yet it suited her so well. Afterall, Madeleine Whitmore was not known for having ordinary tastes.

With a soft tsk of her tongue, Madeleine turned to leave the room. As she exited, she grabbed a pair of white gloves to hide her withered hands which told her age more than anything else could. It was a matter of vanity on her part, but who could blame the witch for wanting to feel younger than the centuries she’d lived. Madeleine strode from the room, with the length of her robe and the swirling of the fur trim she looked almost as if she were gliding across the hall, with only the sound of her heels against the wood to say otherwise. Her image as she came down the stairs was like that of an old Hollywood starlet, an image she adored to garner.

“Good morning!” She announced hitting a hard ‘g’ at the end; her voice carrying beyond the foyer. A little assurance that all her tenants would be waking up. Madeleine demanded requested, that all of the residence have one breakfast and one dinner with her each month. Often times she insisted on more simply for her own amusement but one of each was the minimum. This morning was, of course, the day she’d chosen for breakfast, fortunately she’d decided yesterday and gave everyone warning rather than abruptly announcing the meal as she was known to do.

Madeleine swept through the foyer and headed down one of the hallways towards the rooms of one of the tenants known to sleep rather late. Her gloved knuckles rapt against the door lightly before opening it without waiting for a response. Each of the tenants were given leave to decorate their rooms however made them comfortable, however this particular tenant had kept some of the original charm and luxury of Madeleine’s furniture choices. There were, sadly, too many pink tones for the witch’s taste but it suited the resident well.

She stepped into the dark room, the plush rug dulling the sound of her movements as she crossed over towards the bed. Pulling back the canopy surrounding the bed Madeleine found Eros sprawled out on his bed, a silk sheet tangled around his body and surrounded by enough pillows to bury himself in. Eros was by far Madeleine’s favorite tenant currently staying with her, perhaps even her favorite of those previous occupants as well. He was a colorful young man who was as dramatic and quick witted as Madeleine. Not to mention the similarity in their styles and love of luxury.

The incubus was quite beautiful, with his angelic looks, his pale gold hair spreading out like a halo. Even she was disoriented, for a moment, before the feeling faded with the recollection of why she was in the room to begin with. “Eros, love, time to wake up,” She coaxed gently, nudging at his bare shoulder to try and rouse him. “It’s time for breakfast,” She insisted as he began to make the sounds of stirring. “Join us when you’re decent, Cherub.” The witch left the canopy and door open as she left the room to let in some light to help get the incubus up.

There was one other she needed to personally retrieve for breakfast, the little garden fairy of the manor; Peony. Normally Peony was a bit more difficult to track down as he would wake up as soon as dawn and began tending to the gardens but with the cold weather, he’d recently moved into the greenhouse for the season making it much easier to catch the little creature.

The air of the greenhouse was warm and heavy with the humidity needed for her more exotic plants. The usual flower bed that Peony liked to nestle into was empty so he was likely awake already. Dark eyes darted over nearby plants and pots where the playful thing might try to hide before she noticed a rustling deeper in the greenhouse. Towards the back where she kept her carnivorous plants, she began to hear the familiar ringing of Peony’s voice. Rushing forward a bit she found the fairy trying to detangle himself from a large purple flower whose petals were wrapped around the tiny body and tooth like thorns were attempting to still its prey. Quickly she reached out and plucked the bud from the tree, releasing the fairy into the palm of her hand.

“Ah, well, it looks like the biting petunias have finally come in,” Madeleine said, a little breathless as she protectively lifted the disheveled fairy away from the carnivorous plant. The sound of loud, disharmonious bells drew her gaze down towards the little creature in her hand. Peony was glowing a bright red that set off his pink hair and was desperately trying to smooth his wings, complaining all the while about his ordeal. “Yes, yes, I know you don’t like them but they are absolutely essential to my work and my stores were low.” The explanation seemed to do little to soothe the fairy who simply gestured at his torn shirt before crossing his arms and made a bell chime that Madeleine had come to know as a ‘humph’.

“Now,” Peony immediately tensed his small body in her hand, knowing her tone of voice, “I know you’re a bit rattled. But, my darling little flower, you are an absolute mess.” The light around Peony flared red again as he chattered away with his bell tones before the color flattened out to a dusty pink. “We’re supposed to be having breakfast together, so won’t you please go get dressed into something less… Chewed on?”

Peony pushed off from her hand, zipping around her head and complaining about something, probably having nearly been eaten but Madeleine waved her hand about, forcing the fairy to glide away some so his ringing wouldn’t be as deafening to her. “Now, you know the rules! Go get dressed, or I’ll let the petunias eat you next time,” The witch bluffed. Peony stuck out his tongue and zipped around her head once more before he flew off. “And I want you human sized! Last time we let you eat as a fairy you ate a single blueberry and slept through the whole meal!” She heard distant bells and guessed it meant he understood and agreed, but she wouldn’t know for sure until the fairy returned.

Returning to the house she heard a loud crashing sound coming from one of other hallways off of the foyer, turning down towards the noise she saw Sethlon and Alita hovering around a broken vase, “Sethlon, my glorious, lumbering Heracles, was that calamitous noise your doing, by chance?” Looking at the broken item she clucked her tongue, “I will remind you that some of those vases are actually urns, and if you release a vengeful poltergeist, I will be relocating it to your bedroom.” With a disinterested voice she warned, moving back towards the kitchen only tossing a few words back as she left, “And Alita, dear, can you please save your crying for after breakfast?”

In the kitchen Madeleine gave a lazy wave of her hand, the fridge opening and ingredients flew out, getting themselves mixed and cooking the meal while the witch went to stand in front of the fancy and excessively complicated French (or was it Italian?) coffee machine. The woman debated whether or not she’d try to make a cup herself or just have Eros make one for her when he finally woke up. Of course, she wasn’t exactly the patient type. Unwilling to risk breaking the machine or wait Madeleine pulled out a champagne glass and waved for orange juice and bubbly. If it has orange juice that made it for breakfast, right? Right.

Drinking her mimosa, she watched as a sulking pink haired boy walked in, wearing clothes that clearly weren’t his. The fairy was wearing shorts that one could only barely see under the hem of the oversized t-shirt he had on. Making eye contact with Madeleine Peony’s hands began moving, signing out his words in a flurry. Since Peony wasn’t able to speak as human the witch had suggested sign language as a way to communicate with everyone. Without even really translating the movements she could tell what he was saying, “OH don’t be such a drama queen, flower. That’s for me and Eros to do.”