I could tell before she even stepped into my office, she wasn't even remotely human. She was tall, in a supermodel and then some kind of way, unnaturally so. Though she couldn't have been much more than my height, she seemed taller. Her hair was rich, vibrant raven black, done in an elegant draping style that made me think of nobility trying to look casual. Her face was just a little too perfect, the proportions off just enough to seem uncanny but somehow beautiful instead of repulsive.

Then of course there were the ears. Pointed at the tips, not rounded. Clearly she was making no attempts to disguise who she was. And that intrigued me. She was no Sidhe, no fae come to ensnare me. No vampire either, didn't have the right aura for it. But I could sense something, something deep and hidden within her, as though she were an ember of power wrapped in quiet velvet.

Her clothing was simple and elegant in style, but made entirely from red swan feathers.

I cleared my throat, which seemed suddenly dry. In my experience, powerful and inhuman women were rarely good news, and even more rarely good for me in particular. But she'd come to my office, presumably for my help, and never let it be said that Harry Blackstone Copperfield Dresden ever turned away a woman in distress just because she was unnaturally beautiful and not quite human.

I usually waited until they tried to kill me. At that point, I don't care how much distress you're in, unless you have a really really good excuse you're not getting help from me.

"I'm Harry Dresden," I said, gesturing toward the nicer of the chairs seated before my desk. "Please, have a seat."

She did so, moving with a lithe unconscious grace that would have put most fae to shame - at least if they were pretending to be human. There was nothing of pretense about this woman; what she was, she was. And she made no attempt to hide it.

"I understand that you deal in matters of the supernatural, Mr. Dresden," she said. Her voice was firm, accustomed to command. I instinctively sat up straighter, giving her complete attention without conscious decision. "My daughter is missing, and I believe she's been kidnapped."

It was only then that I noticed the lines on her face, the weight that seemed to hide behind her beautiful eyes - which I took care not to meet. Though I'd at first thought she couldn't be more than thirty, now I could see that she must be much, much older. Then again, it was always hard to tell with non-humans. They had ways of not lining up with our expectations.

"And you believe it was a supernatural being that did it?"

She reached into her handbag and drew out a large, smooth blue stone, placing it upon my desk. It was as long as my forearm, round and polished like a sapphire, veined with white and purple streaks.

"This was her charge," she said. "It returned to me by magic, and from the remnants of its surroundings I could tell it had come from a place of great heat and turmoil. She would never have let this pass from her care unless she were in the gravest peril."

"Are you sure she's alive?" I asked.

She shook her head. "There is no way to be sure, but if I'm right about who is responsible, they will want to keep her alive as long as she can be of use to them."

I shivered. That sort of thing always got to me.

"Alright," I said, "What can you tell me about your daughter, or the people you believe responsible for her abduction?"

"Her name is Arya, I do not have an image of her. I haven't seen her in decades. She has dark hair like me, a fiery spirit, and a stubborn heart. She undertook the task of carrying and escorting this," she gestured to the gemstone, "against my explicit wishes."

"Adventurous?"

"Young. She will learn better in time, but for the present I'm more concerned with her life and safety than her maturity."

I nodded. "And what do you know about her abductors?"

"Very little. I believe they are part of an extremist group who believe humans deserve an equal share in our power - perhaps more than equal. But I know only the name of their leader; or, rather, what their leader chooses to call himself."

I waited, but she seemed hesitant to speak.

"And that is?"

"Galbatorix," she said, and the word felt heavy in my ears, echoed in my mind, resonating against my innermost being. I understood at once why she'd hesitated to say it. That name carried with it more power than half the wizards of the White Council could claim.

"And you don't know anything more about them? How your daughter came to their attention?"

"Because she was carrying this, of course," she said, gesturing again to the blue stone.

I hesitated, stared at the gemstone. "Can I keep this for now? If it's the last thing she touched, I may be able to trace her from its resonance."

"Treat it with the utmost care," my client said, after only a moment's hesitation. "That is unique and irreplaceable. I trust that you are capable of protecting it, wizard Dresden?"

I hoped so. My track record with protecting objects wasn't always the cleanest. But it was the best clue I was likely to get.

Aloud, I said, "Of course, I will treat it with the greatest care. If it is at all within my power to do, I will get your daughter back."

She rose smoothly to her feet, seeming too tall for her size. "Guard that stone with your life. It is worth far more than either of us."

I swallowed. "Yes ma'am. Understood."

She turned to depart.

"I didn't get your name," I said.

"Queen Islanzadi of the Elves," she replied, turning to smile at me.

"Elves, huh?" That would explain the power I sensed from her. Her aura had no taste of the never-never about it, but hadn't seemed any more human than the rest of her.

"You probably haven't heard of us except in stories, but we are very real."

Queen. A powerful, inhuman queen, asking for my help. I was reminded uncomfortably of Maebh, the fae queen under whose capricious thumb I'd toiled for far too long.

My mouth felt dry again and I glanced longingly at the only drink in the office, the dregs of the morning's pot of coffee. I'd forgotten to turn off the heater again, and it had concentrated to something that would be unspeakably dreadful to drink.

I forced my thoughts away from the past. Islanzadi was a wholly different sort, and I didn't need to be afraid of her.

Just keep telling yourself that, Harry.

I cleared my throat. "So, Islanzadi. How should I get in touch with you if I have anything to report?"

"I will return to you in a week's time. If you have not found Arya by then, I doubt you ever will." She nodded once more to the gemstone. "And protect that with your life."

Very important stone. Got it. I was starting to think it was a mistake to keep it, however useful it may be to tracking down Arya.

"I will," I assured her.

She nodded, then swept from the room. For an older woman, she was remarkably attractive. Even knowing she wasn't human, my eyes were drawn to her lithe movements without my conscious consent.

I waited until her footsteps had faded completely into the distance - not that it took long, she moved quite softly for someone so imposing - then locked the office. I had to think.

I knew more about elves than she'd guessed. They aren't human, but they aren't truly supernatural beings either. They're mortal, however long-lived, and they do have souls. Most elves stayed to themselves, preferring to live in isolation, usually deep forests where humans rarely visited. Magic, to them, is innate and natural.

All that was merely hearsay, however. I'd never met an elf before, nor had any other wizard of my acquaintance. They were elusive, mysterious beings.

Which, unfortunately, meant I had no base of knowledge to go off of when determining whether she was legit or if this was some trick or trap. We also hadn't gotten around to discussing my payment, which would probably become an important issue sooner or later. But if there's one thing I knew about people who went around with titles like 'Queen' it was that they could pretty much afford anything they wanted.

Why she wanted me, now that was a question. As far as I knew, there were no elves in Chicago. Surely she could have found a wizard closer to wherever she lived. And elves had enough magic of their own, I couldn't imagine why an elf queen would come to a human wizard like myself for help even if I was the nearest.

It smelled like a setup to me. Either that or politics. And neither was anything I wanted to get mixed up in. But, who was I kidding? A beautiful woman tells me her daughter was abducted, I'm not going to just walk away.

So I gathered my notes, picked up the surprisingly light gemstone, and set out for my lab.

I didn't have to call Bob. The skull awakened the moment I set foot through the door, eye sockets glowing furiously, and he started screaming.

"WHAT ARE YOU THINKING? HARRY WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?!"

"Good evening to you too, Bob," I said, trying to remember what I'd done recently that could have set him off. I hadn't been particularly permissive with him lately, but neither could I recall anything especially restrictive. I hadn't even been to visit any dangerous creatures. I hadn't summoned so much as a pixie in weeks.

"You can't bring that in here! You can't have that! Harry, there are some things which humans are not meant to meddle in."

"You know, if you could just tell me clearly what's got you so riled, maybe I could do something about it," I said as patiently as I could manage, setting down my armful of papers and carefully depositing the oh-so-special rock on top of them.

"That egg!" Bob exclaimed. "Harry, you don't understand what could happen if you stay close to something like that."

I sighed. Bob could get agitated sometimes, but rarely was he this insistent. "What egg? I haven't been shopping in nearly a week-"

"The giant blue dragon egg you're using as a paperweight, Harry! You need to get rid of it. Now."

"I can't, I promised the elf queen I'd protect it." I gave the stone a dubious look. "Dragon egg, you say?"

"Yes, Harry," Bob said, giving a clear impression of gritted teeth despite his own being quite non-mobile. "And I can feel its hunger from here. If you don't get rid of it, right away, you're really going to regret it."

I eyed the stone with increasing concern. I hate walking ignorantly into danger. "Is there any way to secure it somehow? Make it safe?"

"No, because that would involve using your power in close contact with it, which happens to be just what it wants."

"So, using it as the focus in a finding spell would be a bad idea?"

"Yes, Harry," Bob said with exaggerated patience. "Using any of your magic anywhere near that thing would be a very, very bad idea."

"But, it's the only lead I have."

"Fine, ignore me. Just wait, two weeks from now you'll be begging me. Begging, on your knees, for me to get you out of the mess you're about to get yourself into."

I chuckled, though somewhat nervously. "I don't beg, Bob."

"You will," the skull said, his tone one of dire prediction.

"No, I won't," I retorted, but only out of habit. I stared at the stone, at the dragon egg.

I didn't know much about dragons, and the stories I did hear varied. Anything from cute cuddly little destruction monsters the size of cars, to personifications of forces capable of building and destroying worlds at a whim. Like elves, I had only heard of dragons, but what I had heard was enough to scare me.

If Bob was right about what it was, and there was no reason to believe he'd be wrong, then I had just gotten myself in way, way over my head.

"Dragons, they're just big magic lizards, right?" I asked, more out of hope than any real conviction.

Bob snorted with derision. "Yeah. And I'm just a glowing skull."

Lovely.

"How bad are we talking?"

"Let me put it this way. How attached are you to this building? This block, the blocks adjacent? Or, really, this half of the city?"

I gulped audibly. "Darn it, Bob. Why can't you tell me these things before I jump into them headfirst?"

"I could spend the next hundred years teaching you things to avoid, and you'd still find something I hadn't gotten around to warning you about to stick your nose into."

I wanted to argue, but the sad thing was. . .he was probably right.

"Well, what can I do about it then? It's my only lead on the princess I'm supposed to be tracking down. Unless you know something about Galbatorix."

The name slithered from my lips, heavy and drawn, and I felt almost as though the act of speaking it had invoked some deeper magic just outside my comprehension. I had the distinct feeling that I'd made a mistake in saying it aloud.

Bob gave a distinct impression of shrugging. "Never heard of him."

"Then we have to use the egg. If Arya really is a captive, there's no other choice."

"You could throw it away and pretend this never happened," Bob suggested.

"I could," I said, but we both knew I wouldn't.

Bob sighed. "Alright, if we're going to do this, at least let me help. A potion would be safer than direct thaumaturgy, your power more diluted. But I still believe you'll regret this."

"I already do," I mumbled.

Bob was, for once, gracious enough not to gloat.

"Alright, then. Let's get to work."

Potions are a tricky enough thing under normal circumstances, combining myriad disparate elements into magical goo which is infused with extraordinary powers - in a one-time-use kind of way. Most potions are drunk or poured over an item, this one obviously would be the latter. The potion was unique, as all are, comprised of various elements around the lab and a good dose of my own directed will.

This last ingredient was clearly the sticking point, but I knew of no way around it. One way or another, the only way I could work magic was, well, for me to work magic.

Still, I stood a long time holding the finished potion, reluctant to approach the egg. It still sat atop my notes on the case, minimal though they were; I hadn't gone near the thing more than I had to.

"Well, Harry? Are you going to do this?"

I nodded. "Yep. Going to do this."

I stood another long moment, potion in hand, staring at the egg.

"The potency of the potion isn't going to increase if you wait."

"I know that, Bob. Give me a minute."

"You've had several."

"Give me another minute."

"You don't have to do this."

"I do."

I took several deep breaths, psyching myself up for this, then took a step - more of a lunge, really - toward the egg. I dumped half the potion unceremoniously over its surface, probably a little more than half given my haste, then backed away and immediately poured the rest over a map of the country I'd laid out on the floor.

The potion bubbled and hissed, dissipating into mist. I waited, watched as it faded from all but one spot.

Less than twenty miles outside Chicago, in the forest to the west.

"Right under my nose," I whispered. "Right. Bob, keep that egg safe. We need to return it to the elf queen intact."

"And where are you going?"

I smiled, throwing my duster over my shoulders dramatically as I strode toward the door.

"I'm going to save a princess."

Author's Notes:

Magics may have been altered to fit the combined universe. Characters may have been altered or removed. (For instance, at present I have no plans for Eragon to exist.)

This is not a major project. This is not an active project. This is a scene that wouldn't leave me alone, but I don't plan to continue this anytime soon. I have too many active projects already and cannot commit to another just yet. That said, I think this could be an extremely interesting fusion, and I'll probably want to write more for it someday. In a few years maybe. Not now. I'm very busy now. Unless I'm inspired tomorrow. But no promises. Probably not for a while.

I'm new to the Dresden Files and currently listening to the series in audio form, so any names are spelled as I imagine them; if I guessed wrong, please tell me and I'll correct them. I've only reached as far as Summer Knight so far; if there are existing elves which appear later in Dresden-canon, they may or may not be replaced with the Inheritance-ish version depending on how well they fit with my conceit of this fusion.

As always, thanks for reading! I'd love to hear what you think, positive or negative.