The fairies hall is filled with long tables, and bright golden light, and many many fairies.

The woman who enters the grand hall last is the queen of the wild fairies. She appears, for the moment, to be a woman in her thirties, with a stunning figure and long, curly red hair. She is dressed in a grass green off the shoulder gown, laced in the front with beautiful yellow ties which match the ribbons tied into her hair. Her neck is adorned with a braided gold necklace, and she has on her right wrist a bracelet which looks to be made of blooming forget-me-nots. She walks calmly through the messy, raucous party towards the grand table at the end.

When she stands in front of me, she smiles, and there is a scent like freshly cut grass and lavender.

The queen's eyes shine emerald green around their center, blending and spiking out among the brown outer rims of her cat-like iris.

I momentarily feel my empty mouth fill with the taste of honey.

"I do hope you enjoy the banquet, as an honored guest," the queen says, "and that you believe me when I say no harm will come to you tonight."

I smile at her, though I'm gritting my teeth. I've been invited. No harm in enjoying it.

When the queen passes by, I gulp down my entire glass of wine to rinse away her honey taste.

The table is filled with game and fruit and drink, on platters, in bowls, in pitchers. Fairy food. I decide it's best to stick to what I know for now, and take an apple from a bowl.

It's nicely crisp, tart. I can't help glancing over at the queen, now sitting at the heard of one of the tables. She throws her head back to laugh as I look up. Every other creature at the table laughs with her.

I shut my eyes and try to focus on chewing. On the smooth finish of the wooden table in front of me, pressing my empty left hand against its surface. On the scuffing sound my boots make against the stone as I shift my feet under me.