"Um, Sunthorn? Are you okay?" Their friend asked, eyebrows contorted, tight in the middle, but not depressed. The corners of their mouth pulled down ever so slightly.
This was a new expression. Sunthorn didn't have a memory of seeing a human look this way. Ah, minor correction, seeing a human look this way at them.
"Why of course," Sunthorn replied, setting the tea cup and saucer down, reducing distraction to allow themself to better catalogue this interaction. "Why do you ask?"
Friend reclaimed his seat, slower than usual. He swallowed--something, but definitely not tea. Friend's cup was still perfectly filled. "Well, I was just in your bathroom--and I wasn't snooping, I swear--and you have a lot of medications...."
Silly Friend. Sunthorn had warned them many times about swearing vows to fae like themself. They were very very good at keeping vows.
Oh, what was that Friend said after his vow?
"Medications? Whatever do you mean, Friend?"
"Drugs? All those bottles? There's kinda a- a lot."
Ah! The bottles! That's what he was asking about!
"Oh, you have been admiring my collection! My prescription bottles are quite beautiful aren't they?"
Sunthorn patted themself on the back. It had taken them quite a long time to arrange--and almost as long to label--all those orange and white bottles on shelves perfectly sized to display each one. That one extra large bottle had nearly shattered their whole plans. But, Sunthorn was very nearly an archfey, and Sunthorn would not allow themself to be foiled by plastic that didn't even have the decency to be recyclable.
"Beautiful? Huh? Are you okay? Is whatever going on affecting your brain? Is this about the faeries?"
Friend covered his mouth when he hissed out the last question, making Sunthorn giggle. One didn't have to censor themself for faeries; they weren't pixies always eavesdropping on every conversation, waiting for the first little opportunity to invite themselves--
Ah ah ah ol' chap, they thought. Enough of those thoughts or they'll count that as a summons.
And Sunthorn had a Friend to placate after all. Can't have Friend trying to call the emergency humans again. That took so long to sort out before, and Sunthorn had ever so many plans for their Sunday.
"Friend, why are you so worried? My collection is wonderful, and no one will be able to steal it from me. That power is safely mine."
"Why am I worried? Why--? Sunthorn, you have so many medications you must be dying. Is someone at least helping you sort through when to take what?"
A blink, then five more, and they spotted the problem.
"Oh! Oh no! You think those are for me? That I would take human drugs? Oh never me. I collected all those. I have told you that Fae like me all have their little collections. That is mine."
"Collections? But you described rocks that all had a dent or leaves that had all been stepped on. Weird things, natural things. Prescription bottles?"
"Yes! You did remember. Yes, the little fae children collect the natural things. We like them to learn to take care of their things early. I am far from a child. My collection is useful. Useful and beautiful."
"Very. Humans have no idea what weaknesses they're just leaving around for any old fae to pick up. They should be very grateful that it is one such as myself that has taken their old bottles." Sunthorn smiled, hand pressed to their chest. They nearly jumped the tracks with their derailed train of thoughts in the next moment. "They should be grateful I do not let my recycling center know how many of them are breaking the rules. Friend, do not try to recycle the orange plastic bottles, they are not recyclable."
Oh no, Friend was only saying a word at a time now, a sure sign his human brain had missed too many connections for this conversation. Must take a step or dozen back and help them put the pieces back together.
"Friend, friend, you are confused. Have you not held one of these bottles before? Surely you must understand if you have. These bottles have everything a humble fae could ever need to ensure they know just how to manipulate a human who has not kept up their part of the bargain.
Their full name, their star chart, where to find their home address, what drugs they need to function, if it is a short affliction or one that is always present, what afflictions the cure for their original affliction may cause -- and that is a completely delightfully absurd topic we really must discuss at the next tea -- which apothecary gave them the tincture, which doctor knows of their afflictions, what they must and must not do, so on and so forth."
Sunthorn clapped their hands together before abruptly slapping the table and leaning forward, without spilling a drop of either cup of tea. The grin on their face turned sinister, showing canines just a little longer and a little sharper than they should be for a human.
"The very best part! Each bottle tells one exactly what the tablets inside must look like!"
More words! They had helped! Friend was starting to understand again. Maybe Sunthorn could convince him to discuss the contract this afternoon after all if their luck held.
"Oh of course it's a good thing, Friend. So much less work if you need to convince a poor soul to take a little potion to help them get to the right end! No spying for days and days if you know exactly what colorful shape they'll take twice a day. These helpful bottles even tell you what to inscribe on the pills! It's hardly even work to sneak a little nightshade into a soul's diet with the help of a bottle!"
