Ravus did not like going to the revel. It wasn't a place he felt comfortable in, for a multitude of reasons, the first of these being that the other city fae didn't exactly have a sense of personal boundaries, which Ravus had an abnormal amount of for being a faerie. Unfortunately, circumstances occasionally demanded his attendance.

"I wish you didn't have to go," Val said glumly, sitting on the pile of cushions and mix-and-match blankets that made up her and Ravus' bed. Ravus sighed as he slipped heavy, glistening bottles into his messenger bag, just out of her line of sight; he trusted her implicitly, of course, but he was always worried about tormenting her with their presence. "That place- it doesn't feel right."

"I know," Ravus replied gently. "I wish it wasn't necessary, but unfortunately I don't think I can avoid it this time."

Val kicked a number of stacked cushions, toppling them into a mishmash pile.

"I could go with you," she suggested. "I'd feel a lot more comfortable if you weren't going alone."

Although showing up on Val's arm with her sword at her hip was an appealing thought, Ravus shook his head.

"No, no," he replied. "I don't believe that will be necessary. I'm not particularly concerned about my personal safety, moreso my sanity. I was never one for gossip."

Val laughed a little, shifting to sit with her legs crossed and a pillow in her lap. Her laughter was genuine, but frail, like she was uncertain about what she was laughing about.

"Just don't get into any kind of trouble, okay?" she said, chuckling. Ravus smiled over at her.

"I will try my best," he replied as he slung his messenger bag over his shoulder. He wandered over to her seat amongst the mismatched pillows and blankets and knelt beside her, letting her reach up and cup his face in her hand while she kissed him on the edge of his mouth. His jutting tooth scratched at her lip a little, but neither of them seemed to notice; both were more than used to it by that point. "I'll be back as soon as I find an opportunity."

He got to his feet, glamour overtaking his fae form, transforming him into something passable for human at first glance so long as you didn't linger on his eyes for too long. He blew her a kiss as he stepped through the doorway onto the landing leading down to the bridge-side entrance, reminding her to be careful on her way back to her and Ruth's apartment, and she didn't say goodbye until he was just about to close the door.

The revel was one of the most misleading places Ravus had ever seen. Although everything was beautiful and smelled like wildflowers and delicious food, the worst feeling of dread the troll had ever experienced permeated his self whenever he set foot in the dimly glowing courtyard of sorts.

All sorts of fae were gathered in the park, enjoying food and drink, some accompanied by humans under their spell. More importantly, everyone was sitting around gossiping, the main event for the revel. Although it was not nearly as extravagant or exciting as life in the courts, the fae living within the walls of cities made due with events such as this, and wherever large numbers of fae gathered trouble was sure to follow.

Several fae sitting together and braiding each other's long, vine-like hair giggled as he passed. He was used to it- although his monstrous appearance was not uncommon among fae, those with conventional beauty often still poked fun at his expense for it. It was something he had grown up with and that no longer bothered him- he could accept what he was. But for some odd reason, the tittering of the two barely-clad faeries made him uneasy. Perhaps it was something in their eyes, or their devilish little grins, but Ravus felt vaguely threatened by their gossip. He held his messenger bag more closely to his body almost reflexively.

Sitting on a stone bench and feeding a scruffy-looking human yellow, juicy grapes out of their hand was Ravus' target. The fae was tiny and slender and more closely resembled the faeries from human lore than most did, with his pale-translucent skin and almond-shaped blue eyes and hair that cascaded in dark waves. He looked like an elf straight from a human's modern fantasy novel. When he saw a splash of green in the corner of his eye, he looked up from his 'guest' and flashed Ravus what could only be described as a shark-like grin.

"So sorry to make you come all this way," he said insincerely as the troll approached, shooing the human eating from his hand off, speckling his beard with dark juices. "It's just so hard to find time in the day for these transactions."

"Others have found ways of working around that," the troll told him, trying to keep from sounding annoyed as he sat next to him on the bench, maintaining a safe distance. He shifted his bag into his lap and pulled out a bottle of what Val and her friends called 'Never', a substance he'd started making for the other fae shortly after their exile that staved off iron poisoning. Carefully, he placed it on the bench between them, further defining the distance between them.

"Not all of us are so fortunate to have a comfortable hidey-hole like you do, troll," he responded, scooping up the bottle and setting it on his other side. "Some of us have to just made due with flitting around from place to place. Besides, you know you love it here- some part of you, at least."

The other faerie sidled closer to him and ran cold fingers down Ravus' chest; even through the fabric of his shirt he could feel the chill, and quickly stood to separate himself from the other fae.

"I'll be taking my leave now," he said, although he could not deny the faerie's statement. There was some part of him that felt eased by the socialization that came with the revel, but a larger part of him worried about the consequences of being in such a place; there were still some with a lingering distrust of him after the poisoning incidents, even though news of Mabry's scheme had long since penetrated the circles of the city fae. The concern had merely changed to the fact that Ravus was careless enough to let his deliveries get poisoned, rather than a belief that Ravus himself was the poisoner.

Stretching languidly across the bench like a contented cat, the beautiful fae gave him another terrifying grin.

"Right," he said, sounding positively smug. "I had forgotten that you're taken now. What was the girl's name again? Valerie?"

"Val," Ravus corrected, his hand tightening on the strap of his bag. That was why the chattering of the other fae had uneased him so; the gossip hadn't been about him alone, but rather about himself and Val. That frightened him. Fae didn't always react kindly to such situations; he remembered all too well the treatment he had received when word had gotten out that he was the son of a human and a fae.

"Right, Valerie," the other fae said, and Ravus realized he was only doing it to be annoying. "Your little human pet."

Ravus twitched a little, rubbing his thumb along the well-worn leather of the bag's shoulder strap. He was starting to feel intimidated, particularly because the other fae were starting to pick up on the topic of their conversation and were shifting their attention to the two male faeries. The scruffy human that had been eating out of the other fae's hands made a reappearance, drawn apparently to his master's intrigue.

"She's no one's pet," he replied. "She isn't like these humans. She's free. I have no interest in turning her into some sort of mindless slave."

The fae he was speaking to, along with a few others who were listening closely, laughed. Ravus could feel non-existent walls closing in on him with every second and he could feel the tension in his legs, reminding him that he could just run if things became too ugly. That was always a nice feeling, knowing you could escape.

"That's right, I'd almost forgotten that falling in love with humans runs in your family," he said, resting his elbows on his knees and his head in his hands, kicking his feet a little and grinning like an excited child. The wheels turned frantically in Ravus' head as he realized the fae's prompting to come to the revel had been one big trap and he could only hope that the worst the others hoped to do was throw stinging insults while pointing and laughing. "Remind me how that worked out for your mother."

"I am not my mother and Val is not my father," Ravus said sternly, standing to his full height, hoping to look intimidating. Some of the gathering crowd looked a little frightened of the clearly agitated troll, but his "customer" kept merely grinning at him. "I didn't come here to discuss my personal life, either. You have your delivery- I'll be taking my leave now."

He turned around on his heel, trying to keep his hand from shaking as he pushed through the small crowd that had gathered to see him get mocked, but by now everyone had picked up on the confrontation and had decided it was infinitely more interesting than whatever conversation they'd been having. He didn't want to hurt anyone, and the crowd had closed in so thickly around him that pushing his way through it was almost impossible.

"How depressing it must be, to give your heart away to a creature that lives only a few worthless decades," he chuckled, and the other faeries joined him in a light laughter. From an outside perspective they could have been laughing at a casual joke rather than the misery of others, so gently were their laughs, and it made Ravus' skin crawl. Not all faeries exiled to the cities were vile or frightening in nature, but the revel unfortunately showcased just how many were.

"I gave her nothing; she won my heart," he responded. "For the things she's done, she's more than earned the right to hold it for as long as she wants."

The other fae laughed even louder at his comment, and Ravus clenched and unclenched his fingers around his bag's strap. He skin was crawling and he had to resist the urge to scratch, to squirm, to show any sign that he was nervous. The group was almost feral with their desire for intrigue and he didn't want to feed their desire for his embarrassment and discomfort.

"You're naive," the fae said matter-of-factly, and the other fae seemed to titter in agreement. "Humans live such short, fragile lives and they get bored so easily. Even if she doesn't die horribly somehow, or lose interest, she'll grow old and dull. She's eaten your food, hasn't she?" he asked, although he continued without waiting for the answer, as though it were already known. "You would be better off just taking control of her and getting rid of her when she gets boring."

The other fae all seemed to murmur in agreement, but those pleased murmurs changed to confused ones as the crowd parted. Some went willingly; others were stubborn and tried to maintain their position in the crowd until they saw what, precisely, the others were parting for.

"What's going on here?"

Ravus was caught between overwhelming relief and overwhelming fear when he heard Val's voice. As she moved through the crowd, it became easy to see why the fae were moving out of her way so quickly; at her hip sat her iron sword, one hand rested on it as she walked. She stepped up beside Ravus and clasped his elbow tightly.

"Why didn't you go home?" he asked, softly, hoping the faeries would be too distracted by their own murmurs about Val's appearance to pay attention to their conversation.

"I did," she replied. "Ruth kicked me out when I told her how worried I was. She told me to come find you."

As the other faeries started to pick up on their conversation, the two fell silent, Val holding on to the grip of her sword like a lifeline. The message was clear; get too close and it wouldn't stay at her hip for long. Her first time at the revel had been a peaceful one, thankfully, but Ravus' stories and her own experiences had taught her how tricky and violent the city fae could be, particularly in groups.

"It seems your little knight has come to rescue you," taunted the fae still sprawled on the bench, holding onto the neck of his medicine bottle. "How touching. Are we really that scary, Ravus?"

"More than you can possibly imagine," the troll replied, feeling comforted by Val's vice grip on his arm. No one questioned them as they moved back through the crowd, one of Val's hands on Ravus and the other on her sword, although a few hesitated to move for a moment.

As they were moving away from the revel and towards the city proper, Ravus glamoured himself, although he was almost too distracted to remember to do so. Even well out of the reach of the other fae, Val continued to hold on to him like he was about to blow away.

"Thank you," Ravus said as they walked in the direction of the bridge, taking primarily abandoned back roads rather than the more crowded main roads. "I promise they're not always so frightening. It's very rare that anyone actually gets hurt there."

Val turned to him and gave him an uneasy smile. It was clear to see she wasn't convinced, but he wasn't trying very hard to convince her anyway. He wasn't lying, of course- he couldn't lie. But it wasn't a very convincing truth, either.

"If you think I'm letting you go back there on your own ever again, you're very, very wrong," she said. A homeless woman they passed pushing a cart full of assorted food items, cans and bottles gave Val an interesting look when she saw the sword at her hip, but they simply ignored her. Ravus simply smiled at her.

"I wouldn't mind having a bodyguard, certainly," he replied. She smiled at him, this time fully genuine.

"I'm not just your bodyguard, I'm your knight."