“Hey.”

Reese had been the first one at the breakfast table that morning, mostly because he was hungry and wanted to eat an apple. Wes, the butler, had offered him a bowl of fruit slices, which he was happily snarfing down now to quell his rumbling stomach. He’d assumed Glais would be awake in maybe an hour or so, but the first pair of footsteps that entered the otherwise silent room definitely didn’t belong to the other man.

Aisling.

The tall, dark young lady strode elegantly into the room with all the practiced grace of a hunter, and set down a box of something on the table, pulling up a chair across from Reese. She folded herself into it, looking across the tabletop at Reese like a disappointed school counselor.

“… Hey,” Reese replied, putting down the apple slice he’d been busy consuming. Aisling was honestly the last person he’d been hoping to meet today, especially without Glais nearby. It wasn’t that Reese thought that Aisling was going to hurt him, of course… just that he had absolutely zero idea how to talk to the woman and was frankly petrified by the idea of fucking up. Come on, Reese. Make conversation. Make normal conversation like a normal person.

“I… uh… wanted to say sorry,” the inky Fae began, cutting Reese short from his panicked sifting for an appropriate topic for small talk. “For yesterday, I mean. It… uh… It was a fuckup. On my part. And I’m sorry.”

For a moment, the young human felt like his brain had just bluescreened. He was being… apologized to? For yesterday? By the girl Glais had said was generally too prideful to admit when she was wrong? It made absolutely zero sense, and he felt like he was slogging through a pit of mashed potatoes trying to come up with a response. “Oh. It’s okay, you don’t need t-”

“Oh my fucking stars do not deflect my apology when I’m trying to be nice!!!” the young woman groaned, burying her face in her hands in clear exasperation. “Just- Just shut up and let me finish for a moment. Please. I just… okay. Take two.”

Drawing a deep breath, Aisling sat up straight and leaned back in her chair with all the solemn nervousness of a boss preparing to tell someone they were fired. Reese watched her scrunch her face up a couple of times, her brow furrowing and unfurrowing as she seemed to think through what to say.

“I’m sorry,” she began after a pause that dragged on like millennia. “Yesterday, I behaved in a way that was unbecoming of someone of my age and status. I was very, very focused on the safety of my family, and that led me to behave in a way that was reckless and immature. I realize I probably scared the living daylights out of you, and I apologize for having approached from such an aggressive and accusatory angle when I could’ve approached with a much more open and understanding demeanor.”

She exhaled after that, shoulders relaxing slightly as though the weight of the world had just been taken off her back. “I completely understand if you don’t forgive me, but I wanted to take responsibility for my actions. It’s the right thing to do.”

Glais hadn’t been exaggerating, had he? All Reese could do was stare for a split second. Last night, Aisling had seemed like a stuck-up bitch, for lack of a better term, but here in the low light of dawn, as the first rays of sun streamed in through the massive, arching windows of the dining room, she seemed like a very different person. She was awkward – not exactly shy, but not brazen either – and shockingly earnest. To Reese, it seemed like a switch had been flipped. The harried, upset girl from yesterday was gone, replaced by a person about his age who looked like she was awaiting the verdict of her court case. Her dark hands rested clasped together on the edge of the table, claws fidgeting through her own velvety fur as her piercing blue eyes flicked around the dining area with a nervousness that couldn’t be hidden.

Here, in the oppressively awkward silence of the dining room, she was just a person. Just a fellow kid.

Reese worked his mouth silently for a moment, gathering up his voice to speak. “It’s… It’s alright. I know you were just trying to protect Glais. I can’t stay mad at you for that.”

Those blue eyes flashed with many emotions at once. Relief, a spark of joy, shock, maybe a few tears. Then, she began to laugh – a bright and lifting sound that filled the air like birdsong.

“Oh thank fuck!” Aisling exclaimed, eyes twinkling with stars of mirth that seemed to match the white freckles across her midnight cheeks. “I was so worried you’d hate me, that I’d somehow fucked everything up irreparably. I never meant to come across as aggressive, I was just… reacting. Humans are a… difficult subject here, and I was hurt that Glais didn’t think he could tell me, and paranoid that you were going to do something to harm him. I wasn’t trying to start any bad blood.”

She was smiling, a crescent moon of white splitting across her face, ears tilted back with sheepish hope. Reese couldn’t help but smile back, giggling a little for reasons he didn’t completely understand.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay, I understand. Glais told me about Fae history with humans last night. I know it’s complicated.”

“… Last night?” Aisling asked, tilting her head like a confused dog. Then, she beamed, recognition flashing through her eyes. “Wait, wait, did he do the thing where he wakes you up in the middle of the night to show you the cool shite he finds?”

“He does that regularly?”

“Oh, absolutely! Last year he woke me up to make me look at an owl with him for an hour. I dinnae why he does it, he just kind of shows up and drags you out of bed.”

Reese snorted, unable to hide his grin. “He made me look at the stars with him,” he chuckled back. “It was… pretty cool actually. Where I come from, we don’t get to see that many, and especially not that clearly.”

“… Do they have less stars in the human realm?” Aisling asked, something like pity flashing across her face. It confused Reese for a moment, but then he remembered how proud Glais had been of the stars the night before, and it made a little more sense. The stars must be something special to the Fae – or at least to Glais and Aisling’s family. One of the little pleasures in life that you took for granted until you thought about life without them.

Shaking his head, Reese corrected her with a kind smile. “No, no, we have the same amount, I think. We just have this problem where we use so many lights that it’s hard to see the stars in the sky. We see really badly in the dark.”

Aisling stared at him, absorbing the information with the attentive eyes and ears of a huntress. She nodded as he spoke, taking the words in carefully. “Huh. I’d always been told your folk didn’t see as keenly as we do. I didn’t think it was that bad, though,” she said, sounding like she was thinking partly out loud. “I guess it makes sense why we launched so many attacks at night during the…”

“War?” Reese finished for her, because she obviously felt uncomfortable saying the word in front of him. She nodded.

“Aye,” Aisling confirmed softly, her expression stiff and cautious. “The war. Sorry, I… uh… I don’t know how sensitive the subject is for humans, it’s kind of a mixed bag for us.”

“I didn’t know about it until last night. From what Glais said, it sounds like it’s probably more significant to the Fair Folk than it is to humans,” he replied, finding himself choosing his words just as cautiously. “Your… aunt and uncle fought in the war, right?”

Please don’t find that insensitive, please don’t be offended…

Despite all the warmth Glais had shown him, it was hard for Reese to shake the lessons his grandmother had taught him. He was acutely aware of how little he still knew, and just as aware of the horrible things that could happen to him if he didn’t behave with care. When Aisling reached across the table to grab the box she’d brought with her, he flinched as if struck.

“… Are you alright?”

Reese burned with embarrassment, gripping his sleeves tightly as he tried to deflect the idea that he might be scared. What if that offended her? What if he-

“Hey, look at me.”

A velvety hand tipped with claws reached across the table to awkwardly but reassuringly pat his arm. Aisling’s voice was calm and even – the kind of voice you’d expect to use to soothe a frightened horse. Reese did as told, casting his mossy gaze into her brilliant frosty blue. When he did, she offered him a small, reassuring smile.

“I’m not gonna hurt you. I’ve no reason to. You’re our guest.”

Reese was marginally aware of the fact that he must be gaping like a fish, but couldn’t say anything until he managed to force up an “Okay,” through sheer force of will. He saw Aisling stifle a laugh, wheezing through her teeth.

“To answer your question: yeah, they did,” the charcoal woman continued, pulling back to open the box. She methodically laid out several sticks, some feathers, and shiny metal objects on the table, followed by some twine and what looked like glue. Reese squinted at them as she spoke, piecing together what they were in his brain.

Arrowheads?

“The… uh… the fact that they both fought is the biggest reason I was worried about you being here, actually,” Aisling admitted. “My whole life, I’ve heard of humans in hostile contexts. Not hateful, but… heavy. When I realized Glais was keeping a human in secret, I was suddenly so afraid that you might spark another war, and I lost sight of my manners. There was no guarantee that you weren’t some kind of spy with a very elaborate scheme at first, so I skipped straight to reacting. Which I’m sorry for. Again.”

“It’s… it’s fine,” Reese replied. He sounded hollow, not because he was upset, but because he was very focused on the supplies laid out on the table. “Are these… deconstructed arrows?”

Another laugh. To Reese, the sound was already beginning to become oddly comforting. “I mean, more like future arrows, but you’re not wrong,” she replied, ears perked forward in interest. The resemblance between her and Glais when they were talking about something that obviously interested them was nearly identical. “I like to hunt, so I picked up fletching as a side hobby awhile back. I figured I could show you. As a peace offering.”

She wants to show me her hobby? Reese marveled internally. Aisling seemed like the last person in the world to have a hobby, much less offer to show a near-stranger more about it as a show of apology.

“Oh! I… appreciate that. I’m honored, really.”

“It’s no problem. If I’m honest, I’d still be talking your ear off either way, so I’m glad you’re at least willing to come along for the ride.”

Aisling eagerly picked up a feather – bright red, like a cherry – and handed it to Reese. “So, rule number one of archery and fletching is to have good feathers. I get mine from a vendor who specializes in weapon parts, so I know these ones are good. You don’t want bad feathers, otherwise your arrow flies off track and falls short, which is terrible when you’re wielding something with a pointy tip.”

“That makes sense. Wouldn’t want to accidentally kill anyone.”

“Exactly. I use the best materials I can find. Always. No exceptions. If one little thing goes wrong with the aerodynamics or my aim is off by just a bit, I’m risking people’s safety.”

Aisling pulled out a shining silvery knife next, holding it up to the light. “I use this to prepare the feathers. It’s a very delicate process, but I’ve gotten pretty good at it,” she continued, picking up another feather. “I divide it in half down the quill, then put it aside. Each arrow needs one and a half feathers, so I usually set them out in threes once they’re cut.”

Reese watched, fascinated by the explanation he was being given, watching the way her hands moved with curiosity in his eyes. The blade was held with practiced grace, though he could see a few faint scars on her hands that suggested she’d drawn blood frequently while trying to become so skilled.

“Aisling? What are you doing?”

Aisling paused her lesson, head snapping up at the sound of her father calling her name. “Morning, Dad! Just giving… Uh…” she trailed off, glancing over at Reese, as if asking what to call him by. An etiquette thing, Glais had said.

“Reese. You can call me Reese.”

Aisling smiled gratefully at him, then cast her attention back to her dad. “I’m teaching Reese about fletching!”

As Angus poked his head into the room to check on them, Aisling proudly held up her supplies. Reese helped by waving awkwardly. The heavyset man stared for a second, then seemed satisfied and moved on with his day. Something told Reese that this wasn’t the first time Aisling had given a guest a crash course in arrows, and he suspected it wouldn’t be the last either.

“Anyways, the next thing you do is cut a little notch into the back end of the arrow. That’s the nock, it makes sure the arrow can hold onto the bowstring so you can aim it. Then you secure the feathers to the arrow’s shaft with a little bit of adhesive – not too much, or you muck up the aerodynamics, but not too little, so it’s not flimsy.”

With a flourish, Aisling produced a brush and a bottle of what was probably glue. Then, she took the knife and picked up a stick, which she gently cut a slit into one end of. When she was done, she held it up so Reese could see, smiling proudly. “The feathers get glued on just a little ways down from the nock. I usually put them in a subtle spiral shape around the shaft, which’ll improve the stability if you do it right.”

She gently put the arrow shaft into Reese’s hand while she wrestled the jar of adhesive open. It appeared to be a struggle, which was emphasized by the sound of claws trying to get a grip on wood and a swift, rhythmic clicking from somewhere within Aisling’s throat. Finally, with a victorious cry of “AHA!” she managed to open it, and reached for her components again. Reese watched entranced as she picked up the brush and took the tiniest bit of glue onto it, which she then applied to the end of the shaft with impressive precision. This was followed by the application of the feathers, placed there delicately by Aisling’s claws, which nudged the fletching gently into place.

“Lastly, we attach the arrowhead. The shaft is also a little tapered at the front – I buy them like that, I can’t whittle to save my life – so we just get a little glue on there, slip the head on so it aligns with how the nock grips the string, and… there we go!”

Aisling, with a grin on her face, proudly held up the newly made arrow, which had fit together even more perfectly than excellently assembled IKEA furniture. Pristine, sleek, and sturdy – not unlike what Reese had seen of its maker.

“… Wow. That’s… really impressive. And interesting,” he managed to say through his genuine astonishment over the item in Aisling’s hand. “Can I… touch it?”

“Oh, absolutely!” the young lady replied in a tone that suggested Reese had just made her entire day. “It won’t bite you. Just don’t poke the glue.”

Reese had no previous intention of doing so, and immediately demonstrated this by holding the arrow in his hands with a level of wonder typically seen in a small child seeing a baby for the very first time. He couldn’t even stop his grin. An arrow? A real, actual arrow? In his hands? An arrow?

“Holy shit, this is… wow. Just… wow.”

As his eyes trailed back up to look into Aisling’s, something seemed to spark between them, a little match lit in an otherwise dark, empty room.
“Want to make one of your own?”

“… I’d love to.”