The Gray Wall was the main prison for the city, named so cause it was built against the far right side of the mountain range, the only space the Dwarves had not claimed. It was bad rock, they had said, but that served the council well when they decided to house all their criminals there. It was an unwanted spot for all the unwanted people of Santa Fae. 

Children were rarely sent here, but such had been the anger of Sherry when she lost Mort, that she demanded it. The boy had been fifteen, and though the Houseless elves aged, the younger ones still did it more slowly, so even now, five years later, he still looked about the same.

Sherry sat opposite him in the common room of the prisoners, a dull colorless room with a few wooden tables and chairs where they could receive visits from the outside. She had never been here before, no knight probably had come to see someone locked up before, and she already got enough stares as it was just for being her.  

Thankfully, no one else was there, and the two knights on duty left them alone after they brought the boy, who looked pale and terrified to see them, especially Mort. His light brown skin clashed terribly with the puke green color of the prison uniforms, which didn't help how skinny he looked, and sporting a few bruises.

He eyed Sherry with extreme discomfort, and she couldn't blame him, the last time they had been in the same room was at his court hearing, where she condemned him to this place. And even the word of the less-liked House still carried enough weight to get what she wanted, but now she saw him and felt a heavy regret over that choice.

“Kor,” Mort said, and Sherry realized she didn't even remember that was his name after all this time. “You don't look so well, have they been treating you ok?”

“Why am I here talking to a dead guy?” Kor asked, trying to sound angry and tough, but not very successfully.

“Not just any dead guy though,” Mort added playfully to put him at ease, but it just made Kor wince.

“This is just cruel,” Kor said, looking at Sherry with disdain. “It wasn’t enough to put me here? You need to come here with…with him and make me feel…it’s sick!”

Sherry swallowed her first emotion and sympathized. Like Val, Kor had a point in this matter. “That was not my intention. I keep him around to…help me. It was common for many in my family to do so in the past, even if no one else cared for it.”

“Well count me among them, 'cause it is messed up.”

“I agree,” Sherry said, more calm than she thought she would be in a moment like this. “It has been cruel of me, and it still is, but he wishes for us to make peace.”

“Why?”

“Call it my after-dying wish,” Mort said before standing up slightly and reaching out with his hand toward the boy. 

Kor retreated from it, looking at it with dread, but slowly, he gulped and accepted it with his own. Mort shook his hand vigorously, perhaps more than intended since Kor almost leaped out of his seat.

“There, we are at peace,” Mort declared, smiling.

“What?” Kor asked, confused.

“I have forgiven you…for the whole accidentally killing me thing, I mean. We're all good.”

Kor looked lost, “you can’t just forgive me for that.”

“Why not?”

“Because…you’re dead! And it’s my fault!”

“Yes, but here I am and I just did, so, you know, don’t keep beating yourself up about it. It’s not healthy, and if you don’t believe me, try living with this one,” Mort said, pointing at Sherry, who looked at him as surprised as the boy.

“You can’t just…I’m a killer!” 

“No, you’re not,” Mort said, more seriously. “You made mistakes and you paid for them, more harshly than I would have liked. If I had come to see you sooner, I would have seen how much it took from you, and even though I'm not supposed to get tired anymore, I am Kor, of seeing people suffer on my behalf.”

When no one said anything more, Sherry coughed. “We have come to release you. I asked the court to mark your sentence as time served and expunge it from all official records. You will get a clean slate, but I know that is not enough to make up for what you have gone through.”

“Damn right it’s not,” Mort said. “That’s why you’re gonna do more than that...you are gonna take him in.”

“What?” Sherry and Kor asked in unison, both shocked.

“I think it’s the least you can do,” Mort said nonchalantly. “And let’s be honest, you need someone around that’s actually alive.”

“I cannot just…adopt him!” Sherry protested.

“Into your House? Yes, you can, the Queen has begged you to do so for quite some time now. Why not start with him?”

“Why would I start with him!” Sherry raised her voice. “I came to make my peace with him as well, but taking him on as…as my son, it is…”

Sherry failed to find the words, but she could see Mort’s reasoning and wondered if he was right.

“Do I get a say in this?” Kor said, looking between with a mixture of shock and anger.

“Sure, you can say which room you like,” Mort said with a laugh. “The old place has more than a few, which you do realize you’ll have to open up the house again, right?”

“Would you please slow down!” Sherry said close to losing whatever was left of her composure.

“Listen to me, I thought this through, this…this is going to be good for both of you,” Mort said while giving a reassuring look at Kor.

“You cannot make that decision for me, or him for that matter!”

“You both need this,” Mort continued, “to make things right with one another, and just…have another shot at being happy."

Sherry said nothing, and neither did Kor. They looked at each other, their eyes meeting for the first time, and she saw the pain in his eyes as surely as he did with hers. Making peace with him was already hard, but the thought of taking him in as part of her family when so many would never want to be that close to her...she had never entertained such a thought before with anyone.

“Neither of you is a lost cause, no matter what anyone else thinks,” Mort said, filling the silence. “And if you’re going to be seen as such regardless by most, do it together.”

“Mort,” Sherry said, softly.

“Just think about it for now, and let’s take him with us.”

“Hey,” Kor said suddenly. “I don’t know where to even begin from everything he said but…I am sorry for what I did and…for what I took from you.”

His words hit Sherry like lead, but she found herself relieved to hear them. No tears came this time, she would not need to shed any more for a while. Instead, she gave him something she thought she couldn’t give anymore.

“Take my hand as well,” Sherry said, offering it to him like Mort had. This time Kor took it without hesitation. “There, I will not think of painful ways to hurt in my head again.”

“What she means is that she forgives you,” Mort added quickly when Kor shrunk in sudden fear.

“Yes, also that,” Sherry said and gave her first genuine smile of that decade.

***

The boy had no fit clothes left from his arrest, and she would not have him walk out in that horrible cloak, so Sherry did something she never had. She requested and sent a courier to Aphrodite, the boutique shop on Skye Street that was the heart of fashion in the city. 

The response was quick, and one of their best tailors came personally to the prison to measure and sew the clothes for Kor with magic. Val’s sister, Lar, or Lara as she preferred to be called, was the founder and maybe the only person in their House who had never shown open hostility towards her after Mort died.  

Ironically, she was maybe the only one Sherry would have preferred more of a cold shoulder from, since from a young age she would try to get her to be one of her models and try out outfits she designed, which only irritated Sherry to no end. And although her brother had ordered her to stay away from them, she suspected she would still welcome her if she called, which proved to be true.

Sherry knew she would have to pay for it later, already the words ‘lunch’ and ‘gift-basket’ came to mind, making her grumble, but anything less would have felt unacceptable. Head of Houses didn’t even have to pay for anything in the city, which didn’t seem right to her, which is why she always got her clothes from other sources, but this one time she felt she needed to make a proper gesture. If Kor was going to get a second chance and be part of her House, then she would treat him accordingly.

“Do I, um…look ok?” Kor asked, seeing himself in the dirty mirror in the prison lobby, and Sherry thought he did. 

“Oh very handsome, young Kor, debonair even!” Mort began, giving him a thumbs up.

“It feels excessive,” Kor said, blushing.

The tailor had made him a suit in the elvish style of a surprisingly soft shade of grey, with an eggshell blue shirt and slightly darker pants. Dapper is the word Sherry would have used to describe the look, which perhaps was a bit much for someone who had never worn anything quite as fancy, but he pulled it off quite well.   

“You look the part,” Sherry pointed out, meaning a member of her house, and especially one being her direct adoptee. 

“I…I guess,” Kor said awkwardly, and got even redder. He seemed unable to decide how he felt about this new turn of events, like he didnt know if he was allowed to be happy about it.

“Do you have anyone you want to reach out to? Some family or…”

“No,” Kor replied, quietly. “It was just me and the other boys. We helped each other out and tried to keep off the streets, but we weren't close. They never even came to visit me.”

“How did you guys survive out there?” Mort asked him.

“However we could,” Kor looked down, his eyes heavy with the memories. “There are some shelters for the Fae with no homes, but we didn't care for them much. We preferred to make our own luck, took what gold we could…I’m not proud of it,” he added, looking up at Sherry with a guilty look.

“Survival is not something I judge,” Sherry said. “However, it was not just petty theft that landed you here. You collected human weapons made by the exiled dwarf Orras, did you not?

Kor looked nervous but nodded. “Some of his men gave them to us for free as long as we used them around the Highborn areas. We were supposed to keep quiet, even if they caught us, which is why I never said anything. They have people in here, people who can get to you if you talk.”

Sherry could feel the fear in his voice, and she reached out to put a hand on his head like her father used to do with her as a child. “You do not have to be afraid of them anymore.”

“Yeah? Who protects you?” Kor asked, and Sherry had to remember despite his age, he was still so young and had already gone through a lot.

“I protect everyone, and now especially you.”

The boy’s face relaxed slightly, but it was a good sign. Sherry was not good at reassuring anyone, but she felt the urge to try with him. 

“I suppose I should take you home now,” Sherry said, knowing what she had to do next. “It’s time you meet my family.”