"Are you not worried about getting home? Is that not a thing we're doing? No? Okay, looking at scenery, yes."

"Mortals?" exclaims Promise aloud. "What are you doing here?"

"Walking!" declares the female mortal, brightly. "Hi, we are hilariously lost."

"You're lost, but it's hardly hilarious. Do you have any idea how to get home from here?" asks Promise, alighting on the forest floor and relaxing her wings again. They look like hawthorn leaves and somewhat constrain the cut of her outfit, which works around the extra extremities and is made of gossamer with leaves stitched to it.

"No idea. Our first idea was doubling back, and that didn't work. I'd be more fascinated and less scared witless if there was a nice neon sign that said, 'Way home, this way, you're not stuck here for the rest of forever.'"

"I think the usual way of things is that you'll find another gap sooner or later, but it's by no means guaranteed. But anyway you won't be stuck here forever. You're still mortals."

"Being stuck here until we die of old age is really not very tempting, either."

"I really wouldn't expect you to make it to old age here. That takes - decades, right?"

"Six to ten decades, yeah. Usually around eight."

"Also! That sentence was alarming, why are we not expected to make it to old age here?"

"Because it's dangerous here for you! I'm a harmless leaflet, but there's plenty of kinds of fairies who are less harmless, and think mortals are fun exotic disposable toys."

"Fun, exotic, disposable toys. Oh, joy. Uh - okay, clarify how we are re-purposed to be 'fun,' and how we are made disposable. Is it just our natural mortality playing out, or - please tell me I do not have to worry about murderers, I do not want to have to deal with murderers."

"Fairies are immortal, good and proper. Somebody could decide I'd be a fun toy, but I cannot be permanently got rid of, so there's some prudential limit to how much of a grudge other fairies want me to have against them. You don't have that, which is - novel, unusual. I can't promise you aren't going to run into any murderers."

"Okay, question, fairy lady. Defenses, are there defenses?"

"Don't call me 'fairy lady', please - Promise will be fine - and, yes, but not perfect ones or instantly acquireable ones."

"Savannah for me," says, apparently, Savannah, absently. "I want them anyway, because defenses."

"Catastrophically stupid? What the fuck, when I asked for some fucking defenses, 'don't tell people your name' should have topped the fucking list, like - how in the hell was I supposed to know that, what did I just do?!"

"You gave me your name! And any other fairies within earshot - I think we're alone but - hang on, I'll check, better to sort that out now rather than later - Anybody else who heard this mortal's name, I'll play Rain Dice for her free and clear - no? - okay, so just me, but now you're my vassal - it didn't occur to me that you knew that little -"

"Vassal? Vassal! What in the hell does it mean being a vassal, do I have to fetch your fucking horse in the morning or some shit?!"

"I don't have a horse. It means you have to do whatever I say, if I mean to make it an instruction, and that you can't act directly against me."

"Alarming question. Can you order her to give you my name?"

"Yes, but I'm not going to. And lucky you, I'm not vassal to anyone but the Queen, who is far away and unlikely to pay attention to me."

"... Thank you. Is she stuck here in - where ever this is forever, being your vassal? Can you un-vassal her? How do we not ever get the Queen's attention, I would like to not - lose free will, thanks."

"Being my vassal doesn't in and of itself prevent you from going back to the mortal world. I lose my hold on her if I forget her name, but that's not likely within your lifetimes. The Queen knows everybody's name. Well, every fairy's. Getting her attention would involve being unusually interesting or useful in some way." Promise snaps her fingers and points at Savannah. "Do not tell fairies your real name or his real name."

"Right. Okay, I'll think unusually uninteresting and not-useful thoughts."

"Have either of you eaten anything since you got here?"

'Ted' shakes his head. "Absolutely nothing, that's a thing, too? We haven't been here very long at all -"

"That's a thing. Did you at least bring some mortal food?"

"Water's fine if it's really just water with nothing else in it, but I know where you can get that. And her I can just hand-feed because she's already my vassal, but you're going to get hungry."

"Hand-feeding. Okay, sure, that sounds sort of fun, we can do that."

"Again, her, I can give safety instructions -" Promise points at Savannah again. "Don't take food or drink from anybody but me until you are safely home." She turns back to "Ted". "I can't do that with you unless you want me to feed you something too. I can let you in my house, anyway, that should be safe from fairies trying to trick you, and like I said, I know where to get pure water."

"Um, hey, I'm actually not a fucking idiot, I really don't need you to order me to not do stupid things, I just need to know that they are stupid."

"If you slip up, and somebody else gets a solid claim on you, my options are to get involved in a conflict over you or to cede you to their tender mercies. I'd rather skip having to make that decision."

"I'm not going to slip up, but I need to fucking know what the stupid things are!"

"I dub you Fred. We can match, how wonderful. Fred - calm down, it's okay. She is trying to protect you."

"I have no way of knowing how prone you are to slipping up or how long it will take us to figure out how to put you back where you belong," says Promise. "And someone who thought I was going to fight them over you and had a reasonable claim on your person might not wait for me to actually put up a fight before they attacked me. Look, let's go to my house, okay? If nothing else you can sit down without being enticingly mortal to somebody who'll torture his name out of him."

Ted is going to have some problems with the ceiling. He alleviates this by finding a place to sit that's reasonably out of the way.

"Okay. I'll see if there's anything in my library about sending humans back whence they came, but I'm not optimistic."

"Is there a place we can look for information on doing that? Besides your library."

"I don't think you had better leave the house at all. Someone will see you. Fred would be safer, but still not really safe."

"Willing to go on risky, dangerous trips to the public fairy library if it means that Ted and I can go home sooner. Just saying."

"Noted, but the first places I'd check if I turn out not to have a book about it are not going to be accessible to someone who can't fly."

"That's - annoying. Mm. Okay."

Promise shrugs. And starts looking through her bookshelves, wings twitching occasionally as she starts to lose her balance.

"What are the incomplete defenses you mentioned, I'd like something, if I ever have to go outside again."

"There's magic. I think mortals can learn it, but it's complicated. There's - social rules, which are complicated too, maybe more so, and inconsistent to boot."

"'Mortals can learn magic' is about the best thing I've heard about this crazy place, where can I learn it, that sounds like something that would be extremely useful."

"Well, it won't work when you go home," says Promise, pulling a book from the shelf.

"Of course not," sighs Ted. "That would be too sane."

"What does sanity have to do with it? There isn't any magic there."

"No, but I - like rules being consistent, and they're not doing that. It's annoying."

"That part's very consistent. Where there is magic to use, you can do magic. Where there is not, you can't."

"It's consistent in an inconvenient way," declares Ted. "And when the inconsistencies are inconsistent in an inconvenient way, that's when I start getting really annoyed, because then it feels like the universe is out to get me."

"How did you fall in, anyway, was it a tear in the silk between the worlds or an actual gate that then moved?"

"... I don't know enough about the differences between them to guess. What are the differences between them, aside from the - hint that tears are accidental and gates are not?"

"At the time you stopped being in the mortal world and started being in Fairyland, were you going through a doorway?"

Fred nods.

"Okay, that means it was probably a gate. I can't manufacture one of those myself, I'm not powerful enough yet, but I might be able to find you one. The trouble with gates is they have keepers, and you have to impress the keepers enough to let you by, and there are generally stakes for failing. I might be able to make a tear but I can't be sure of holding it open long enough for you to both go through and I also don't know where in the mortal world it would put you."

"What are the standard stakes for failing?"

"Your name, often. You might be able to bargain a gatekeeper in a good mood down to some finite number of years of indentured servitude or sexual favors or something."

Ted shudders.

"And if they get either of our names, they get us both. Great. Ted, we're playing for keeps."

"Not quite. If a gatekeeper - or whoever - gets your name, Fred, I still have it. Then me and whoever else has it have to figure out how we're going to deal with it. Those conflicts can escalate, and badly - and sorry, but I'm not planning to spend four millennia singing without rest in a birdcage in somebody's conservatory for you - but if they were even less inclined than me to make a fuss over it, I could get them to give up their claim and then for most practical purposes it would be like it is now."

"That's - a bit better. But Ted would be fucked."

"If I told anyone my name? Yes. Yes I would be. Let's not do that - mortals can learn magic, can I learn how to make gates or tears and just do it myself?"

"Well, yes, but maybe not before you starve to death."

".... Is there any way, any way at all, that I can find food to eat here that does not belong to anyone?"

"In a word, no. You might be able to find food that no one is paying enough attention to to use to claim you, but there's no good way to be sure."

"Not even if I took up - I don't know, farming?"

"The seeds would come from somewhere - unless you have them in you pocket? - the land would have claims on it, the rain would happen somehow. This place is lousy with magic. Somebody will be able to claim some responsibility for anything you eat if you didn't bring it along."

"That's - extremely upsetting, how in the world does anyone manage to avoid getting claimed at all without outside sources?"

"Fairies have the food thing easier than mortals do. We can still be vassalized with food, but not nearly as easily - well, if you'd brought mortal food and I ate it, you'd have me, but within our realm. Usually it's debt or losing a game or being cornered into giving up our names."

"I'm genuinely happy for you," says Ted, sincerely. "But I'm still really annoyed at the inconsistencies of the universe, this is feeling like it's out to get me. You would not have this problem in the 'mortal' world."

"Wouldn't I? If I went to the mortal world what are you imagining I'd eat?"

"The - wait, are you still forced to follow the vassal thing even in another world? Ours, you can feed people whatever you want by hand and tell people your name all day long and there's no - vassal system. For mortals, certainly."

"Mortals can't vassalize each other at all, as I understand it, yes, but I am not a mortal."

"But are you sure it's your status as an immortal that's doing it, or the fact that you are in this world?"

"I wouldn't really care to test it," she points out. "But I believe any pair of people including at least one fairy can under the right circumstances follow a vassal/master relationship."

"I - hadn't meant to imply that you should test it, sorry, I'm just - trying to understand the rules at play here."

"As far as I know, mortal-and-mortal interactions are exceptional in not having the possibility of somebody winding up at somebody else's beck and call."

"Yeah, it's kind of great."

"But is it possible that it can happen here?"

"You already know each other's names, right?" says Promise. "If it could happen between mortals here then you'd be vassals to each other. Try it if you like."

He looks at Fred. "Scratch your nose," he says.

"Nnnnope," says Fred. "On one hand, yay, on the other hand, damn."

"It doesn't technically belong to you?"

"Well, don't eat the jug," says Promise. "I suppose if you broke it I'd have a weak claim of debt. Do you want me to pour you cupsful before I go?"

"No, thanks," says Ted, amused. "Just - clarifying."

The siblings pass the time by talking. To each other, even.

Ted shakes his head. "It was all very quiet and not at all terrifying."

"I'm going to start going stir crazy," mutters Fred.

"You could read my books if you like. Fred, if you're hungry, let me know before I start diving into serious sorcery."

"Sure, food, food sounds pretty good."

Promise feeds Savannah another chunk of something. "I'm doing this so you don't starve, not to entertain you - yes, go ahead, and gatemaking isn't remotely introductory but a starter sorcery book would be the blue one third shelf up far left."

"Thank you," says Ted, and he goes and retrieves the book and starts reading.

"I'm not allowed to be entertained by it anyway?"

"Sure, not going to make this weird. The food's fun, though, I like it."

And then, exciting reading adventures.

"Please tell me," says Fred after an hour, "that this is not going to be what the next few weeks consists of."

"You know I'm bad at lying," says Ted, with a shrug. "Safer than the alternative."

"If you want to dust or wash the dishes or weave me a rug or something I won't stop you."

"Auuugh," groans Fred, and then because she has no better idea of something to do - she starts cleaning.

Ted doesn't, either. Reading. Reading reading reading.

"I don't know, what do you usually do?"

"Go outside, talk to friends, go to school, sleep, do karate, go wandering around places looking for things that are fun..."

"Well, you can sleep, although I don't have much in the way of space so it'll have to be on the floor with a throw pillow. I can't supply you friends, have no 'karate' for you to do, and still don't recommend leaving the house, although I'm not going to actually command you to stay in."

"Sure, sleep, sleep is fine."

Promise throws a throw pillow at her.

Fred catches it, and then goes to trying to get some sleep to relieve the boredom.

Ted, meanwhile, is over there, happily reading away.

Reading reading.

"Oh, there's not a night cycle here. Just sleep whenever you're tired."

Promise eventually goes to bed up in her little nook.

Ted.... Tries very hard not to be distracted by hunger.

"I'm working as fast as I can!"

"Auugh, I know, but it's - maybe we should try finding a gate keeper, maybe that would be better..."

From his corner of magic books to distract from being absolutely starving, Ted mutters, "I'd really, really rather not risk losing my name to strange people I don't know."

"But you're totally fine with becoming Skeletor?!"

"No," he sighs, "But I like being fully in control of all of my faculties."

"I might have a gate made in as little as two days, if wherever you want it to go is harmonically friendly," says Promise.

"I have to try for a specific destination. If it's not harmonically friendly, I can try a different place after a six-hour cooldown or I can keep working on the same place until it clicks, which could take either less than six hours, or - considerably more. And before you ask, I don't know what fraction of destinations in the mortal world are friendly."

"... Yay," mutters Ted.

Promise sighs.

"I - sorry. I'm sorry, I'm just - grumpy, now. I know you're working on it as hard as you can and you're being much nicer about it than you need to. Thank you."

"You're welcome. Where do you want me to try to put you, anyway?"

"A little town called Forks, or - I can give a rough geographical drawing of it if that would be better."

"The more information the better," says Promise.

"All right," says Ted, and he gets to explaining Forks in agonizing detail.

Promise writes down all the information when it's usable. "Two days," she says, "and I can give it a try."

Ted nods, grimacing. "Thank you."

"It might work immediately. If it doesn't... then I can try a different target, or I can keep aiming at your town until it works. I don't have nearly enough information to tell you which option gets you to mortal food sooner."

"Go with whatever seems best," says Ted, softly. "And if I can't manage - then I can't manage, I suppose."

"Well, it's less work to leave it aimed at a single location. So if you don't prefer that I keep moving it around to see if I get lucky attempting to strand you in Alaska, that's what I'll do."

He nods. "That - should be fine. I think."

"Yeah. Thanks," he murmurs. "I'm - getting there."

"Well - sleep a lot, I guess, that might help conserve energy?"

"'S what I've been doing," he agrees.

"Worth a shot," he sighs. "Thanks."

"Don't go too fast, I think that can be unwise."

Promise goes on holding the cup for him all the way through.

"Well, no one could follow up on a claim in your world, unless they got through my gate," she says. "But it'd be safer not to. Something else, or give it a minute to settle?"

"I -" He wants to beg for something else to eat so badly it hurts. - "... Minute to settle. Safer."

"Fred" is - not here. As in she is not in the house. When did she even leave?

"No. I think she was here when I left to check the gate. Would you have noticed if she slipped out while I was gone?"

"I -... No, no, damn it," he mutters, and he carefully starts pulling himself to his feet.

"You're in no condition to be running off on a rescue mission. She can't have got far and I can search from the air and order her down if she's doing something idiotic - if you get lost too then I have two missing mortals to track down."

"... Fair. That's - that's fair," sighs Ted, sinking back to the ground in a defeated and sad heap. "I'm - not flighty, but you can - I give you permission to order me to stay here if it means you can go find her faster..."

There's not so much a crashing sound, but there is some sort of - struggle sound. Like someone is stuck somewhere and trying to get out as quietly as possible and really not managing it.

Promise flutters thataway.

"What ever led you to believe that quicksand's a myth?" wonders Promise, alighting on a branch nearby and looking for something to throw Fred to haul herself out with. She finds a fallen stick and picks up its end and, flying, drags it over to Fred.

"Don't kick, don't flail," instructs Promise. "Slowly pull yourself over and then along the stick until you get to the edge of the patch, there." She points.

"Right, back this way and I go back to trying to un-starve Ted."

"The gate still wasn't working last I checked, so, yes. Come on."

"Coming," she sighs, and she trails along behind Promise, looking around suspiciously.

They encounter no further danger before they get back to the house, where Promise immediately checks on Ted.

"I am," says Ted dryly, "not dead. And neither are you, Fred, look at you."

"Oh, shut the fuck up with the passive aggression, I was looking for a fucking gate keeper..."

"You were finding quicksand, and if you'd found a gatekeeper it'd be overwhelmingly likely they'd have had your name and Ted's too out of you, and as soon as the gate I made connects I will be a gatekeeper who won't cost you anything. Is your dewdrop gone? Do you want something else?"

"Well obviously I'm not going to go looking now, he's - eating food. And not starving to death anymore."

"Dewdrop's gone," informs Ted, smiling a little at Promise. "I - another, please, it was very nice..."

"Another dewdrop, you mean, or do you want some of this?" She gestures at the red glop with the seeds in. "I'm almost out of dewdrops."

"I'm - really not in any sort of state to be picky," he snorts. "Whatever's easiest for you."

Glop it is. The glop isn't sweet; it's sort of vinegary and full of exotic spicy flavors, the faerie equivalent of tasting really authentic curry for the first time.

"Prrrrobably not," he agrees. "Um. Do you have - something to help with - that much spice or - something?"

"Do you not like spicy things? Here -" She fetches berries, still on a vine, and feeds him one. It's not exactly milky, but it tastes cold and smooth.

"Right - that makes sense. How about you finish this," she gestures at the bowl, "with however many berries in between bites you need, and then I'll give you another candied dewdrop and go foraging now I'm feeding three mouths instead of one?"

Ted nods. "That's - that would be nice. Thank you, sorry for the trouble?"

"I can order you to stay put if you need me to, but I'd rather not, because I might not think of all the contingencies that could have you needing to be out of the tree."

Mmm, delicious tree bark. Who knew it was edible?

Ted recovers from near-starvation slowly, but goes back to studying magic soon enough. Because it's magic, and he wants to learn more about it. Even if he's going to leave eventually and the knowledge will be utterly useless to him, it could still be useful while he's here. And it's not like he's got anything better to do. So, study, study, study.

"Thank fuck," says Fred, darting up. "I was about to start ripping my own hair out from boredom."

"That would have been a messy cleanup," says her brother in a deadpan. "Hair, everywhere."

"Thank you for not suffering this problem in my house. Come on then."

"You are, I assure you, welcome to go back to mortal-world and eat whatever it is you usually eat. Please do not chuck random mortals through my gate, I will feel responsible for them."

"We are not going to chuck random mortals through your gate," promises Ted, solemnly. "Even with you as nice and hospitable as you are. It would be really mean to everyone involved and I'm pretty sure you're excited to get us out of your house by now."

"Mostly Fred. You're a much more agreeable houseguest and have not fallen into quicksand and needed rescuing even once."

"I am very proud of my ability to stay put when my life literally depends on it."

"Also, thanks," deadpans Fred. "Thanks a bunch."

"Cheeseburgers," mutters Ted, rolling his eyes. He looks at the gate, then back at Promise. "I - thank you. A lot, for everything. You could have done terrible things to us or kept us as pets or something and didn't. You didn't even have to help us, and did even though it was - a lot of personal trouble."

"...Hi. Do you - need - help - going home again? Should I not have left the gate pointed to your town...? Are you okay?"

"I - no, that's not - well, okay, the books would be nice, I do actually still want to learn magic just because it sounds fun, but, um." He shakes his head, and clears his throat in an effort to sound slightly less awkward. It really doesn't work. "Are - we not going to talk about the kissing thing?"

"I didn't know that had anything to do with why you came back," says Promise, suddenly shy.

"It - was a major factor," he says, somewhat lamely. "Um. Did - wait, did you not want me to come back, I can - I genuinely don't want to bother you, if you just wanted to kiss someone and I was - there or... Something..."

"I - no, it's - come in, you are welcome here if you want to be here," she says, standing aside from the threshold. "I wanted to kiss you, but I left it to the last minute because - mixing kissing and vassal-ness seemed iffy, and I thought you'd go and then it wouldn't matter."

"...Catatonic?"

"Not - it - it wasn't bad, I was just - it - it caught me off guard and it - I haven't - no one's kissed me before - and I didn't know what to do and it was - it was unexpected and I hadn't thought about it yet and it was - sort of confusing and nice and and there was - I mean. I didn't... Um. It sort of ended up with me just sort of standing there for - for a while, stunned."

"I didn't - expect it to have that much of an effect."

"Wording it like, 'I didn't mind' implies that it was - unpleasant and a thing to be endured. It - really, really was not that. At all. It was very nice." Pause. "And yes, I came back. Er. Kind of - for you?" Another pause. "Wait, is that weird, that's probably weird, sorry, sorry, I'm really very terrible at this!"

"It's okay." Pause. "I could kiss you again if you like."

"That - it's - rude to stare?" says Darren, lamely. "Unless you're - comfortably in a relationship and - something."

"Do you want me to go put on some clothes, Ted?"

"I - have no idea, I am exceptionally not in my element and trying very hard not to make this weird and I really think I'm failing spectacularly."

"Fairy etiquette about people in towels says that since you are my vassal I can do whatever I like, but since what I'd like is for you to be comfortable, I will need some help."

"I will probably have a better vocabulary if you are no longer dressed in a towel."

"...And in clothes instead, or is the towel, itself in its towelness, what is distracting you?"

He smiles at her, embarrassed. "My head is less at war with itself, thank you." Pause, a glance at the dress. "... Slightly less."

"If you want me to dress up in long sleeves and ankle-length skirts like I'm going to the Forever Snows, I might become suspicious of your avowed desire to kiss me."

"I do not want you to do," he says carefully, "either of those things."

This time, he does not go catatonic. In fact, he returns the kiss.

So she doesn't have to beat her wings and focus on maintaining precise altitude, Promise puts her arms around his neck and her feet around one of his knees and sort of perches on him like he's a tree. She's very light, even for her size.

He makes a little sound when she perches, but does not stop kissing her. Vaguely, in some miraculously still functioning part of his brain that is not devoted to kissing, he realizes the why. This wondrous section mentions to the other less functional sections that he could probably help with this problem and support her from losing her grip on him and falling. Why yes, agrees the rest of his head. That is a fabulous idea. One hand goes to help support her by touching her back. And then, quite content with its wonderful work of actually managing to think, the holdout part of his head celebrates by stopping conscious thought. Kisses!

"So sit."

"You're probably strong enough to tear leaflet wings if you were trying," she says, thoughtful, resting her head on his shoulder. "They're tougher than tree leaves, though, and I don't think you should be able to hurt me that directly even by accident, not since I fed you."

"You've mentioned. Was that a good twitch or a bad flinch?"

"Should I not nibble you again for the time being, then...?"

"For now," he agrees. He tilts his head and observes her. "It sort of bothers me that you only know me by 'Ted.'"

"I'm not worried about you running off to tell someone else my name," says not-Ted. "If I were, I wouldn't have come back. But I'm - I don't want you to be in a situation where the options are 'say the mortal's name' or 'get tortured' because you know it. Or if the queen shows up, and since she knows your name, she can order you to say it against your will and - I don't want that, either."

"Yes, exactly. Why does it bother you that I don't know your name, given all that?"

"It's - I think it's just a leftover from how mortals work. It sort of bothers me that random people in Forks know something about me that you don't, and - probably shouldn't for safety."

"I hope it doesn't bother you that the Queen knows something about me that you don't."

"It doesn't. It's more - I am upset with her because the only reason she knows it is to make you her vassal, and that feels icky to me. But you're not at fault at all."

"I don't think she learns the names. She just knows them as part of being the kind of fairy she is."

".... Brrr. Okay, creepy."

"I guess it is. It's been that way as long as anyone remembers."

"I really don't think I like one person having that much power, just because of what kind of fairy she is."

"Well, I don't like it either, but I don't have anything to do about it at this time."

"Yeah," he sighs. "But she doesn't know my name, so. Yay for that."

"Yes. ...If I ever anticipate the Queen's attention I might go into your world and tell you my name and ask for protective orders. I'd take food, instead, but food from someone who's already my vassal won't vassalize me."

"But a name will? Huh. What happens when two fairies both know each other's names?"

"Mutual vassalization. Same as if I gave you my name. They can still enforce instructions, but usually what happens is one of them is faster at telling the other to be silent. So if you come up with a clever way for me to learn the Queen's name..."

"I should let you know, so you can be free, or - I suppose learn it myself and tell her to be silent. Since at the moment, she can't order me to do anything at all."

"Not directly, no. But your orders will expire when you die."

"Ah. Then - order her to be silent, and then scurry off to you to give you her name and so you can do the same."

Promise shakes her head. "Order her silent except to command her vassals to aid and abet you and leave you unharmed. Or her guards, the genuinely loyal ones, would just kill you."

"... Right," says not-Ted. "That charming detail."

"I have lots more sorcery to learn before I even start thinking of coup plans, for sure."

"Yeah. So until then..." He kisses her forehead and snuggles her.

"I - well, honestly probably not that long, my dad would be worried if I disappeared for days again, but I can come back whenever I like."

"It'd probably be best if I knew when you were coming so I could make sure the place was clear. I don't want everyone to know I have a mortal."

"Yeah. I'd really rather not get you unwanted attention just by being shiny and mortal at people. Uh - I just graduated, and when I go to college I'm not sure what my schedule will be, but I'm going to hazard a guess that weekends will be fine. Right now it's the middle of summer, so it's - I've got basically nothing to do for the next month or so."

"Graduated? College? Weekends?"

"Nnnnone of those words made sense to you, sorry, I forgot - uh. When mortals are younger they go to a set of schools with lots of kids their age. Three basic schools. Elementary, middle, and high school. I just graduated high school. I am legally an adult and if I want to, I could go running off to get a job right now. But, there is a - bonus round, I suppose, for school, if you want to focus on something specific instead of the generalized teaching the schools get you earlier. That's called college. I'm doing that. Weekends are - we break up our days into groups of sevens. The standard is five days of work for every two days or not working. The two days of not working are weekends."

"Oh, huh. What are you going to focus on for the rest of your school, then?"

"I was looking into going into social services, which is basically when people are having trouble with things in their lives that aren't physical injuries or something. Which sounds kind of vague, but I want to specialize a bit more than that. I'd like to at least help the whole - adoption system, it's kind of a mess." Pause. "Adoption being when kids are missing their parents or have been taken from them because the parents are terrible, and going to people that are going to take care of them and love them."

"That is the mortalest thing I have ever heard."

"The mortalest?" snorts not-Ted. "I - suppose that makes sense. Do you not have many kids here, what with being all - immortal?"

"New fairies aren't that common. Even breeding kinds don't usually have them frequently."

"... Not all fairies are breeding kinds?"

"Most kinds aren't breeding kinds. It might be that most fairies are breeding kinds because there tend to be more of them, though? I haven't counted."

"So - how do you get the non-breeding kinds...?"

"We just happen. I started in this tree."

"Just. Happen? What, as - as a little tiny baby, alone in a tree, or as a fully functioning adult, or somewhere in between...?"

"As adults. We don't have that awkward... not knowing anything and not having a name yet and not being able to talk, stage, that breeding kinds do."

"I was about to get extremely worried for the non-breeding kinds, little tiny babies alone in trees with no one even knowing they're there..."

"No, I started and I knew how to find food and not to tell anybody my name - and I had one, which is very important. Breeding kinds are born without names, and that means that anybody can name them until they get one. Usually it's their parent or parents."

"That - sounds like it could be bad if the parent or parents are terrible."

"Yes. And it means that they all have long vassal chains. And breeding kinds have less natural magic, most of them, in most cases their magic is just however they go about breeding and that's all they get without learning sorcery."

"Wow. Okay then. Mortals don't have non-breeding kinds, but - we don't have the vassal chains."

"And your ancestors aren't immortal, so it couldn't get that long even if you did."

"Yeah. That." He makes a little 'hmmm' sound. "I'm really glad mortals don't have the vassal thing on our own, by the way, it would mean my mom knew my name and I'd be her vassal. And that would be extremely bad. I'm glad you don't have to worry about it."

"Extremely bad? Like - more than usual amounts of vassal-ing bad? Why?"

"She's not very - mentally healthy. She's in a mental institution, getting help. Social services and my dad intervened when my sister and I were eleven, but really, it wasn't soon enough."

"Eleven what?"

"Oh. Uh - eleven years. A year for us is three hundred and sixty-five days."

"How mature is that for you? For that matter how old are you now?"

"It's old enough to be reasonably intelligent but without any sort of life experience to speak of, and before puberty. Not anywhere close to an adult. I'm eighteen, which is basically 'now officially an adult,' but still kind of - new to the world of adults."

"... Huh, really? How do you measure time here?"

"Well, not very carefully, since it's always daytime and usually autumn in this region, but I'm still young enough to have an approximate idea. I think I'm something like - this is a guess, I could be off by half or more - twelve?"

"Right. Leaflets are a spontaneous kind. Why would you freak out...?"

"Because mortal twelve year olds are not really - prepared in any sort of fashion to be in a relationship with an eighteen year old."

"...Prepared?"

"Um. Haven't been through puberty, have zero life experience in comparison to an eighteen year old's adulthood, don't have full developed brains yet, that sort of thing?"

"But I mean, what's to prepare me for, are you dangerous or something?"

"What? No? I mean, I guess some male eighteen year olds could be, the ones that would go after a mortal who was twelve, but - no? I'm pretty harmless?"

"I think I'm missing something. I don't really - hang out with breeding kinds enough to know how they work, let alone mortals."