it's long, sorry, but i had fun writing it!)
It was cold today but it was a pleasant feeling for the young man gracefully walking through the thick forest. The thick snow was piled up in huge piles between the roots of the trees and the full moon shone through the leaves, reflecting off the snow lighting up the paths between the trees. The young man was as pale as the snow in which he walked in and his eyes nearly so. Though it was easily below freezing there he wore nothing but a silk robe and silk slippers.
He was The Oberon. He was Cernunnos. Lord High Lord of the Fairies and Ruler of the Wild Hunt. He Ruled over all of the Tuath Dé Danonn. The Oberon Cernunnos was Lord High Lord of the Fairies and held rule over the two races, Seelie, and Unseelie Sidhe. The Summer and Winter Courts. Like all Kings before him, upon his crowning he shed all previous names and titles and became The Oberon, an ancient Fey title that named him as Ruler of All. He Ruled over all things magical, whether they lived within the Otherworld or not. His Word was Law and not even the Faerie Queens The Mab and The Titania would go against him.
It was an unusual day today for him however, to be walking in the dark forests of the Otherworld when by all rights he aught to be sleeping. There was something wrong, something deep and pulsing in the night air. Magic was acting up in the middle of the forest, he could feel it building. Bringing something from the Mundane realms. It was very rare that someone entered the Otherworld and it's realms through a Sidhe. It was even rarer that someone entered through the Otherworlds potent magical barriers. Whoever this was was magically powerful to the extreme. Cernunnos would have to be prepared to defend his lands as he reached the pulsing point of magic.
With a crack and a flash of light so bright the King of the Faeries had to shield his eyes, the being was brought in through the Magic Mists and the magical barriers. Cernunnos was stunned he could not react. It was no powerful being that had appeared at his feed, but a child! A young child dressed in tattered rags, barefoot and sick. It was a male child, no older than five but so thin he could see the bones and count ribs where the shirt had slid upwards. The young boy was sick too, the shallow, rattling breath speaking of pneumonia and the high fever threatening his life. Cernunnos knelt down, gently set his hand on the boys skin, wincing at how cold the child was. Hypothermia had well set in, this child was near death and needed the healers immediately. Her thought nothing of lifting the boy into his arms and shedding his dignity the sprint through the wood, riding the wind to go even faster. Children where so rare in the Otherworld that every child was cherished, even the mundane ones. Cernunnos could no more leave the child there then he could leave his lungs behind. No matter the mysterious manner in which the child had arrived. It was good timing anyway, he had been thinking about adopting a child. This one would do just as well as any other.