**Author's Note: Hey, there! Decided to change things up with Puck a lil with this chapter! You'll see right away what I mean. It's a slower story than the previous ones, but I'm always trying new things and hoping that you like it too. The Sisters Grimm belongs to Michael Buckley.** 

She sat perched on a thin branch way up high in the ginormous apple tree in her backyard. Her mom kept talking about cutting it down, but her dad wouldn't have any of it. While her mother usually got her way when it came to domestic decisions, her dad had overridden the executive ruling. He loved his wife more than he let on and really would do anything to make her happy, but he had come to the conclusion, before either of his kids were born, that the tree would be a great jungle gym for their future offspring. Her mom's maternal instincts called it a death trap, even though she knew her husband would never let their kids get hurt in any which way or form, at least not on his watch. 

As the warm summer evening's breeze tousled her golden locks while she surveyed the sunset-kissed rooftops of the neighborhood, Alison Grimm-Goodfellow was very thankful for her father's past, strategic thinking. He had taken into consideration that his offspring would likely have wings like him and therefore sometimes want a place up high to escape with their thoughts.

Laughter from below her sounded, and when the fourteen year-old looked down, she saw her little sister Emma squealing with glee as she and Allie's dad held her by her waist and flew into the sky. They all knew what was coming next. Their dad would toss her straight up as hard as he could, let her fall for little while, and then anticipate her landing, catching her several yards from the ground before gravity could even think about doing its worst. 

It had been about three months since Allie and her sister had found out about their parents' history. Their mom being related to the Brothers Grimm was surprising enough, but then she got the shock of her life when it was revealed that her dad was a king, and also a fairy at that! Fairies and magic and fairytales weren't supposed to be real, but here she was, relaxing in her tree, farther up than she could have ever dreamed of being, and it was all thanks to her very real, very shimmery pink wings.

Alison thought back to the moment when she had gotten her wings. There had been a lot of screaming, crying, and panicking on her part that ensued, and she winced as she remembered how she'd lashed out at her parents who had only tried to comfort her. Granted, the range of emotions that didn't include fear, bewilderment, and anger at being lied to couldn't be described as happy or suitable ones. Not when one learned that their father wasn't technically a human. Add in a dash of the little phenomenon that was getting an exotic and seemingly-uncontrollable body part popping up out of nowhere, and the recipe for hysteria was complete. 

Well, she had been hysterical for a while. She usually confided in her mom when she had a problem, but it ended up being her dad, drama queen himself, who helped her adjust to her transformation. Though his attempts to soothe her had been off to a rough start when he unfurled his own set of iridescent wings in excitement a split second after seeing hers, she had known immediately that he was just trying to make her feel better. 

From that day on, he had pulled strings in order to allow her a generous amount of time away from school so she could cope in the privacy of her home. He had taken off work -- which was running a freaking magical kingdom -- so he could fill her in on Faerie history or rub the sore spot on her back between her wings. When he had done this the first time, she had been taken aback with the epiphany that he knew what to say and do because he was the only person in her life who could even start to relate to her fairy struggles. He'd been preparing for this moment for a while. 

Laying face-down in her bed, pillow stained with tears of frustration and worry, she'd stopped her shaky breaths and decided there really was no point in moping anymore, not since the whole situation was out of her control. So that evening, she had accepted her dad's eager offer to teach her how to use her wings.

The grin on his face when she had mastered the art of simply going around in circles had been so contagious that she had to smile too. Spots from previous tumbles started to bruise on her because Puck, being a whole fairy, mastered the art of flying at a young age. Nobody in his life had needed his expertise, either. Not until Alison. So what if he hadn't been the best teacher? Allie had been able to tell without a doubt that he genuinely wanted her to succeed and be happy and confident. His stubbornness to stay patient with his daughter went against his tendency to be on the impatient side, as seen most often when he teasingly nagged his wife in the mornings about when the coffee would be done brewing. That joined with Allie's own incredible stubbornness -- she'd inherited that from both parents -- had the young, blonde half-Fai learning quickly. Less than a month after her first lesson, she was able to tail her father as they weaved through the trees in the woods behind their house. 

And that was what it had taken to bring the two closer. Allie knew her dad loved her and her sister equally, hugged them with the same amount of vigor, but it was obvious that Emma was much more like him than Allie was. Her mischief-filled smile, brain that concocted a million pranks to pull, and hatred for baths automatically made her a mini version of her dad. Sensible, cautious, and academically gifted, the older Grimm-Goodfellow girl associated her character traits as things she could bond with her mom over, but deep down she secretly wished that she too could consider herself fun-loving and interesting like the louder members of her family. 

Alison's thoughts were forced to halt as the laughing duo from before were suddenly eye-level with her. Emma had not gotten her wings yet and was freaking out that she'd never get them, though she was reassured by Sabrina and Puck that they'd eventually come. 

"Hey, Alls!" A pair of green eyes identical to her own sparkled with playfulness, and the owner of them called out, "What should I do with her next? Chuck her into the pool? Drag her feet through Bono and Edge's poop that she forgot to pick up? What does this fairy princess deserve? You tell me."

Allie blinked. Then she tried to keep the wave of confusion, hurt, and maybe even a touch of betrayal from crashing over her composure. Emma yelled in protest to her father's suggestions, but Alison barely heard her, lost in her thoughts once more. Since when did her dad call her sister that? The only times Allie heard that title leave his lips was when he was referring to her, but truthfully, now that she thought about it, she couldn't recall the last time he had called her that. Wait...yes, she could. With a wince, she found herself able to clearly retrieve a specific memory that showcased herself screaming mercilessly at the caring fairy she called "Dad". 

A seven year-old Alison Grimm-Goodfellow sat in the middle of her living room, legs tucked neatly underneath her. Surrounding her were at least ten other second-graders, and their eyes were trained eagerly on the large box she was ripping into. It was her birthday, and she'd asked her parents to let her have a birthday party. She'd never had one before. It wasn't like Puck and Sabrina outrightly denied their daughter a party year after year; they just usually did something small with only family members. That said, the option went by for years unvoiced. 

Now Allie was beaming from ear to ear as she finished unwrapping the gift because she had a pretty solid idea as to what could be inside the package. She'd begged numerous times for one of those motorized hoverboards, and while her mother had told her that that was a big kid's toy, it appeared that Alison might have gotten her wish granted after all. 

"What is it, Allie?" her dad asked from outside the circle of ooh-ing and ahh-ing children. From the grin on his face, though, it was evident that he already knew, and it wasn't just because the cardboard box read exactly what its contents were. Hearing one classical music piece after another as he was placed on hold time and and time again had proved to be exhausting, but all the phone calls in the world that had to be made in order to get the hoverboard custom-colored in the exact shade of purple his daughter currently wanted all her belongings in was more than worth it when he heard her ear-splitting shriek ring out in excitement. 

Sabrina had come up behind him then, snorting softly. He looked at her and she smirked.

"You do know that she has you wrapped around her pinky finger, right?"

"Try more like her whole hand."

It was true: Puck loved to spoil his kids as much as Sabrina would let him. In the beginning when it was only Allie, she had protested whenever he sometimes snuck the little girl a cookie before dinner or let her stay up half an hour past her bedtime. Then when he had confessed to Sabrina that he just wanted his kid to feel loved by her dad because he personally knew how crummy it felt to be anything but cherished by a father figure, his wife had nearly broken down in tears at his sentiment. Allowing him to continue his pampering of Alison, and then later, Emma, wasn't a problem. As long as he was careful to not let them become too demanding and pushy, of course. 

Alison beamed up at her parents, obviously pleased. "Thanks, mom and dad!"

Puck chuckled and said, "Of course, my fairy princess. Just let me try it out once and a while, huh?" He hadn't missed the titters that came from the other kids' mouths, but he just assumed that they were laughing at his desire to try a kid's toy out. And maybe that was the reason. He did miss, however, Alison's red face as she turned away, trying with desperation not to let anyone see that the snickers had upset her. 

By the time the last guest went home, though, her embarrassment had slowly turned into anger. She released it without holding anything back.

"How could you!?" 

The fairy stared at his little girl's face, confused. What was wrong? The cake had been red velvet, her favorite. She had seemed pleased with all her gifts.  Three year-old Emma hadn't gotten into any of her stuff. When he told her this, she scrunched up her face, green eyes full of hurt. 

"You know what you did! They were laughing at me because of that dumb name! I'm too old to be called silly things like that; I'm a big girl now. And why did you even start calling me that? I'm not a fairy or even a princess. Now all my friends think that I like to play make-believe like a little baaaby, like Emma or something. So thanks a lot!" She started running to her room, but Puck had seen two fat, round tears making their way down her cheeks and reached out for her.

"Allie..."

"No!" she yelled. "I want to be alone right now." And had promptly slammed her door. She'd gotten into trouble later for her lash-out and door-slamming, but for a while she'd still been bitter towards her dad. The whole ordeal, along with not being forgiven right away, had made Puck terribly upset with himself, and from that day forward, he never called her "fairy princess" again. At least not out loud. 

Back in the present, Alison felt ashamed of her younger self. She suddenly wished more than anything that it had been her and not her sister he'd just labeled as his "fairy princess". Then she shook the thought off. It's just a nickname; get over it, she scolded herself. It wasn't like it belonged to her or anything, and seeing that she'd so recklessly made such a show of discarding it in the past, there wasn't much that she could do to get it back now. Anyways, she shouldn't need it verbalized. With her wings she was a fairy; with her dad as king of Faerie, she was a princess. Everyone in Faerie knew it. The non-Fae Everafters she had met since learning about her background knew it too. It was understood what she was. She shouldn't be greedy with the title since it technically also applied to Emma. So why did it sting to hear her childhood nickname given to anyone but her?

Puck had his hands full -- literally --, and was focusing on hovering in mid-air while also concentrating on not dropping his youngest, squirming daughter. But the flash of sadness that flitted over Alison's face didn't go unnoticed. She was great at hiding her emotions when she wanted to, another something she'd inherited from both parents, but then again, he was her dad, and part of being a responsible father was realizing when his kids weren't okay. Something he said had made her unhappy; it was only right that he fix it. 

He flew to the ground, set Emma down, told her he'd return soon, and then zoomed back to Alison. 

"What's wrong?" His face searched hers.

"Huh? Nothing. You should've put her on the roof and waited to see what comes first: Mom finding her, or Emma attempting to shimmy down the chimney in the name of being Santa in July." She snickered at the image. That sounded like something her sister would do just for fun.

Her dad chuckled with her but then became serious once more. It freaked her out a little. Her dad wasn't the super-serious kind, even though one would think that being ruler of a magical land would make him so. Plopping down next to her, he prayed the branch wouldn't break. 

"No, really, what happened just now? I'm not going to force it out of you, but if I said something wrong, I want to know."

Alison sighed, glancing away for a second. How was she, at fourteen years of age, supposed to tell her dad that she secretly missed his old affectionate name for her? But then that thought made something click: it was indeed his old affectionate nickname for her. Her. 

Becoming a fairy had made Alison see how much she was like her dad, fairy attributes not included. And she loved that. But then Puck had felt bad that Emma felt left behind. He'd encouraged her to go the upcoming Halloween as a fairy. He'd bought her a wicker egg chair off Wayfair and, much to her delight, enchanted it so it felt like being in a cocoon when she sat in it. He'd compensated for her flightlessness by flying her to school and almost anywhere else she wanted (with his availability taken into account). Alison hadn't liked hearing the long-forgotten name tied to Emma because it was, other than gaining wings, the last remaining reminder that she, for once, shared something with her dad that Emma didn't. Was it bad that Allie was secretly glad that she was the first sister to get wings?

Finally she turned to him and hastily spilled the newfound reason for her long face, unable to meet his gaze. When he didn't say or do anything afterwards, she wanted to die from embarrassment. It sounded so much dumber out loud than it had been in her head! And it was already cringe-worthy non-verbalized. 

But then her dad shocked her by scooching closer to her and wrapping one arm around her shoulders, giving her a squeeze. "Allie," he said gently. "Do you remember when me and your mom told you that you were getting a sibling?"

What the heck? She shook her head.

He continued, the hint of a smile filling every inch of his face as he reminisced. "I don't really blame you. You were only four at the time. Anyways, you were so, so excited, and you wanted it to be a girl more than anything. I did too, and so did Grimm."

Alison almost laughed when he referred to her mother with the childhood alias he'd constantly called her years and years ago. Her parents were still so crazy in love with each other that sometimes it showed on accident. 

"Well, about month later we found out it was a girl, and for a week you were so happy about it. Then one day I got back from work, and you came barreling towards me, as our daily routine went. The pitter-patter of your tiny feet on the kitchen floor was a little more aggressive than usual, though, telling me that you had some burning question you'd been holding in all day to ask me. Except that time it wasn't something silly like 'What's name of the space between the bits that stick out on a comb?'. 

"You looked like you were on the brink of crying, and before I could ask if something had happened at pre-school, you blurted out, 'Daddy, when the baby comes, is she gonna be your new 'fairy princess'? I don't want a sister anymore if she's gonna replace me!' And then you started to cry so hard, and I was shocked that you thought anyone in the world could ever replace you and take your special nickname away. You finally let go of me, and it hurt so bad to see the cutest, happiest kid in the world looking that scared.

"Back then I reassured you that I meant what I said when I said you'd be my one and only 'fairy princess'. But I guess I didn't do too hot of a job, because here we are again. Sure, Emma was -- is -- another princess of Faerie, but truthfully, it felt incredibly weird calling her what I did just now. Somehow, that nickname has only really fit and worked for you." 

Alison felt her heart cinching up at his words. What had she done to deserve such a great dad? But Puck, being Puck, just had to tack on in a teasing tone, "And that's probably because you can be a bit of a princess when it comes to makeup." That earned him a scowl, but from the way she had hugged him after his story, he could tell she wasn't actually mad. 

"I was handcuffed to your mom when I told her that she didn't need that stuff, and while you're free to slap whatever you want on your face, I'm gonna say that you don't need it either. Heck, you're the kid of the best-lookin' Trickster King out there! Of course you're gonna have great genes."

Rolling her eyes, Allie said, "Dad, you're the only 'Trickster King' to exist, but okay."

Puck let out a huff, but a second later he jumped up, making good use of his wings, and extended a hand to his eldest daughter. She looked at it in confusion. Holding hands with her dad was the minimal amount of work her mom and sister had to do in order to fly, but she had her own wings. She wasn't as skilled as he was when it came to flying, but she was definitely capable enough to fly down to the ground by herself. Puck had meant it as an invitation, though. 

With his trademark glint of mischief returning to his eyes, he asked, "Well, my fairy princess, are we stranding your sister on the roof together or nah?"

**A/N: So many pronouns! Sheesh. And okay, so that was definitely not Puckabrina fluff, but I've been wanting to write about Puck as a dad for a while (because I personally think he'd be a really good one!). So this was the result. Anyways, the story was better as a concept in my head, I think, because it was hard as heck to actually write. Finally finished it, though! Until the next chapter, xxoo.**