Chapter Text
It started simple.
One morning when Harry woke up, as he step outside to let his gossamer wings unfurl in the early sun, there was little bowl of cream sitting on the table on his balcony. The bowl itself was simple, white porcelain with little painted flowers. Nothing special. But the cream.
Oh the cream!
It was thick and cool, the heady scent of thick sweet honey heavy in the air. Whoever left it there hadn’t been gone long, beads of condensation glittered as they rolled down the sides an onto the table. Temping. Teasing. And Harry was unable to resist. He sat with his legs through the metal rungs of the railing, legs kicking freely in the air as he sipped his cream and the sun warmed his wings.
That day had been a particularly pleasant one.
There was more cream the next day. Harry had washed the dish and left it on his little balcony table before falling asleep. He hadn’t wanted to hope too much that whoever had gifted him the cream would do so again, but he was very grateful for it and wanted to leave the dish clean if they came back for it.
And then there it was. Fresh and cool and sweet, just like the day before. With a happy little chirp he sat down to drink his cream, his wings fluttering excitedly in the morning sun.
After that there was always cream. Harry woke, stretched, and headed straight to the balcony every morning to enjoy the fresh offering, and every evening he washed the dish and set it back out. Usually when mortals left such things for fairies they wanted something in return, eventually, but the weeks went on and no mortal ever stopped him to cash in on a favor. Not even any other creature approached him. Odd as it was Harry wasn’t going to complain.
Free delicious cream!!
Then there came the pieces of silver.
One day on his way back from a busy day of pollinating fruit trees and knocking over flower pots, and one particularly tall stack of books, Harry came home to find a little silver bracelet wrapped around the knob of his door. It was small, big enough to fit him and maybe some human children, the chain of the bracelet was fine, almost silken. Little stars dangled off it along with a charm of a half moon.
He ran his fingers over the cool silver, the purity of the metal singing along in perfect harmony to his own magic. There was nothing else in it that tainted the metal. Sometime humans wore jewelry that was made out of things that looked like silver, but burned when you touched them. Harry had learned to keep his finger to himself when flying among the humans, even if the jewelry was especially pretty and he wanted to touch it. He never did!
He slipped the bracelet on his wrist and chirred and purred happily as he unlocked the door with a tap of his finger.
After that he began to find more pieces here and there. One day a little silver thimble was in his mailbox. A tiny silver spoon set next to the cream one morning. There was a silver coin tucked into his book one evening when he sat down to read, it was embossed with dragon wings and horns, like a demon. Almost. Demons couldn’t touch pure silver lest it burn their skin...
Everyday there was cream and every few days between, silver. Each piece pure and shining, and soothing to his magic. It was lovely, these gifts. Whoever sent them certainly knew the way into a fairy’s heart. But it wasn’t until the last gift that Harry even thought it could be something more than the casual offering of a careful and dedicated human who just wanted to be his friend.
He woke like any other day. Stretched his wings and shuffled out to the balcony. The only thing he noticed was the light. Glittering, bright rainbows. They danced through the air, over every surface, the table, the flowers, the bowl of cream!
A jeweled sun catcher hung from the roof oh his balcony, perfectly situated to catch the morning light. The dancing light’s were mesmerizing. Enchanting. Harry couldn’t look away. It wasn’t until the sun had moved enough, the last crystal no longer glowing, that Harry realized he had been staring at it for over an hour. In a daze he drank the cream, standing, staring at the sun catcher.
Thinking.
Rainbow light was everything for Fairies. The colors matched too closely that of their own bright and glittering wings. Harry was secure enough in himself to know that he was a little vain...all fairies were and it was hardly his fault.
But to give a fairy something like this. Something so lovely.
Plus the cream.
And the silver.
Was....was someone trying to court Harry?
~~~
Watching his little fairy was always a treat.
That first morning that Tom had left the cream out Harry had glowed brighter than the sun upon seeing it. His stained glass wings fluttering so fast it was nearly blinding to his red sensitive eyes, but Tom had watched all the same. And every day after that.
It was the best part of his day. There was a tiny little alcove in the stone wall surrounding Harry’s little house that was perfect for viewing the balcony. Tom would settle in the shadow just after placing the cream on the little outside table, he had just enough time to melt into the darkness before Harry out stepped out, rubbing sleep from his luminous eyes, black hair standing any which way, filmy night dress hiding almost nothing as it caught the first rays of morning sun. By the time the sun reached his blinding wings Tom’s eyes would be watering. It was still worth every pained second.
Getting the silver was harder.
The purity of the metal would be soothing for his fairy, but even the slightest contact would burn his skin. Even through the thickest pair of dragon hide gloves he could find the white metal stung if he held on for too long. It was a pain, though, that he was more than willing to bare.
Anything for the little fairy that had caught his eye.
Like most fairies, little Harry divided his time between helping nature to grow and thrive, he had a particular fondness for fruit trees and rose bushes, and preforming little acts of mischief. Nothing that could end up harming or severely angering anyone. Just little things that let you know a fairy had been there, like taking a bite out of a fresh pie left to cool, knocking over books on a shelf, pretending to be a gust of wind to knock off someone's hat and send it flying.
He was adorable when he worked, and that was what first drew him to Tom’s attention.
Tom enjoyed his life among the humans. Cloaking his slitted red eyes, black feathered wings, and large curved horns, he looked almost like a regular mortal. If a rather tall and extremely dashing one. He caught all the eyes as he walked their little streets, hunting for the right prey to turn, to damn.
Until one day.
On his way back to his little shop, a used bookstore, nondescript, prime downtown location, Tom was stopped in his tracks as a potted plant fell from a low balcony to crash, shattering at his feet. It wouldn’t have hit him, the balcony was too low for it to have done any real damage even if it had. But it was odd. There wasn’t much wind, Tom hadn’t touched it as he passed. It had simply, quite literally, jumped out in front of him and now he had dirt on his nice shoes.
Then he heard it.
Laughter.
Like the tinkling of little bells, all chiming in a enchanting melody.
From the corner of his eye there was rainbow light, drawing his attention to a little fairy crouching behind the rest of the pots on the porch. He was no bigger than the palm of Tom’s hand, though such things were irrelevant for fairyfolk, who could change their size at will. The fairy had his little hands cupped over his mouth to hold the laughter at bay, but his merriment shone in his emerald eyes, in the fluttering of his rainbow wings. The little things kicked up enough of a breeze to carry his scent, wildflowers and spring rain, light and sweet and purely omegan. Absolutely lovely.
Tom turned, quickly looking away. Mortals couldn’t see fairies. Sometimes they caught glimpses, but could never look at one directly. And thanks to Tom’s impeccable glamour, this little fairy thought he had just pulled a spectacular prank of a well dress, and probably now late, business man.
And who was Tom to ruin this little fairy’s fun? So he cursed, stomped his foot to kick off the dirt, and stormed away.
There were plenty of fairies in the city, fairies were almost everywhere, really. But they enjoyed being around humans. Tom could understand. They were probably very easy to prank. So it was days before Tom was able to find this particular fairy again, and completely by luck. A shipment of new released books was late one afternoon, the driver had called giving Tom some excuse about troubles with his car, and by the time he arrived it was two hours past his normal closing time and Tom was ready to rip the mortal's heart out and eat it for his troubles.
That was until he pulled up and the little Fairy that was the obvious cause of his 'car troubles' arrived with him. He was bigger than he had been the first time, more the size of an average omega. Though the poor van driver couldn’t see him as he reclined on the hood of the delivery van, giggling as he, with no apparent rhyme or reason, placed his hands flat on the hood, causing the vehicle to simply stop in its tracks. They were close enough to Tom’s shop the last time he did this that the perplexed driver simply jumped out of the van and ran to the hood, already trying to explain to Tom that he had no idea what was going on.
Tom smiled and assured him all was fine, even as he watched the little fairy out of the corner of his eye as he flitted around Tom’s outside displays, occasionally fluttering the pages of the books as he passed them.
With both the fairy and the driver occupied Tom said a little spell under his breath. It was just enough to put a the barest of traces on the fairy so that Tom could follow it for a while. It would fade before the night was up, but it would be long enough for Tom's purposes. And with that settled Tom lent a hand to the driver in unloading the books. He could sort and shelve them in the morning.
He had a little fairy hunting to do that night.
That night he tracked the fairy to a little idealic cottage some six hours outside of the city. A short distance for a fairy. Or a demon. It was quaint, two stories, surrounded by a little stone wall and prettily manicured garden. After that it was easy enough to find the fairy’s name. Harry, as was written on a letter in the mailbox, and then figure out Harry’s routine.
Tom sat out in the garden all night, watching as the lights flicked on and off within the little cottage before staying off for good. He stayed until the sun began to rise above the horizon, painting the dew covered garden in pearly light. He was about to leave, return to his shop to strengthen his glamour before starting the day, when movement from the balcony caught his eye and his little fairy walked out. Limbs and wings heavy with sleep. He seemed to come alive with the dawn. The sunlight giving him vitality in the same way flame or the cool embrace of darkness did for Tom.
He watched for as long as he could, as Harry checked all of the little potted plants before returning inside to start his day. He watched until Harry slipped out his front door, tapping the knob to lock it with his magic before zipping away.
Tom returned to shop. To the dull dusty books, to finding and feeding off of the random mortal who was unfortunate enough to cross his path. Tom sorted and shelved his new books, and began to plan.
The very next morning when Harry woke there was a bowl of cream waiting form him on his balcony. The joy that rushed through Tom as he got to watch Harry enjoy it was sudden and quite unexpected. Nothing had ever felt so good before. Nothing in his long life had ever brought so much pleasure to his cold dark heart.
For the next few months Tom brought fresh cream and honey for Harry, then the silver, which was not fun for Tom, but seeing Harry sparkle with the bits and pieces he was able to collect was worth any mild discomfort he had to go through.
But it still wasn’t enough. He could feel it. There was something else that he needed to really get through to his little fairy. Cream and silver, these were things that mortals could and often did bring to fairies, at least in the older days. As much as Harry liked them, Tom needed to be more...direct.
It took a long time, and a lot of his personal magic to make the sun catcher. He was really quite pleased with it, after many trials and error, and a few burns on his part, it was perfect. Each jewel was pure and clear and reflected as much light as possible. Held onto it, and reflected it back three times as strong and twice as vibrant.
It was still only half as lovely as his Harry’s wings. But it was as close as Tom could get.
The real reward came the next morning after Tom hung it up and ducked into his hiding spot to watch. Harry was so enraptured that he didn’t take his lovely eyes off of it for nearly two hours. He simply stared, lips parted and eyes wide, as the sun caught in the gems and danced around the him. Eventually the sun rose far enough that it no longer played in the jewels and Harry could take his eyes from it long enough to drink his cream and leave for the day.
Which meant that Tom was ready to unleash the last part of his plan. He’d thought about the right way to introduce himself to his little fairy for months, and now, it was finally time to put it in motion.
~~~
Harry’s day had been....interesting.
First the sun catcher that showed up during the night, which he still, even after hours of playing in the real sun, couldn’t get out of his head. Then the day, chill with the first scent of fall on the wind, had gone surprisingly in his favor.
Not that Harry ever really had bad days. Some were better and more productive than others, of course, but to have everything he would need for a perfect day just spread out before him after such a fantastic morning.
Finding a steamy hot pie on the first window he had passed that morning wasn’t such an unusual thing, especially not for this time of year. Odd, that it had been cherry, his favorite, since apples were more in season. It was still completely within reason.
....the first time.
But by the third cherry pie Harry was starting to get a wee bit suspicious. And full. He turned his eyes from the little homey windows with their brightly patterned curtains and little trails of chimney smoke and flew to a nearby orchard instead.
The sun was high and warm, the breeze cool and fragrant with ripe apples and the first hint of decaying leaves and grass. He zipped around to chat with the bees and pester the little aggressive hummingbirds before heading into the city for some mischief.
He knocked over a few empty pots, unhooked a decorative flag and sent it flying off in the breeze, and played with one woman’s extremely long hair for several blocks on her way home. They passed an untended book display and Harry gave up on tangling her hair to scatter books across the sidewalk.
By the time he had run out of books, and energy, the sun was nearly down and he wanted to get home. Read a little before bed, maybe stare at the sun catcher a bit. Getting home from the city only took a few minutes. Harry unlocked his door and few in. He never bothered with anything like shoes, humans couldn’t see him so clothing was hardly needed unless he wanted it. He usually wore little robes that came to his knees, preferring a variety of soft colors and textures, like the creamy peach colored one he wore then, the thin silk light enough to keep him cool on summer days. So there wasn’t much he needed to do before he was comfortable and ready to relax, other than grab up his favorite blanket on his way to get his book and head to the balcony.
Several thing hit Harry all at once as he stepped onto the balcony,
One, there was a lit candle under the sun catcher. It didn’t make for quite as magnificent a display as the sun had, but it was clear now that the jewels must be magic, as the sheer amount of vibrant rainbow light that filled the small space was far beyond what a single candle should have elicited.
Two, there was a lot of very yummy food on the table. It fanned out around the little candle in a dizzying display. Bowls of sweet fruit, sliced melon, honeyed berries, fresh pears. platters of cheese in every color and texture Harry could think of. And several shallow bowls of cream, condensation dripping from the porcelain bowls onto the lace table cloth that had been set out on the worn wood of the tabletop.
The third, and perhaps most important thing, was that Harry was not alone. A tall, massive really, dark figure stood near the table. He was pale, but lovely. Pleasing features that appeared to be chiseled in marble. Two black horns stretched, large and sharp, through soft down hair to wrap around his head. His eyes were completely red with little slits for pupils, their small size the only indication that he wasn’t completely at ease as he stood there, hands folded before him, the soft evening breeze tugging at the silk of his long black robes and rustled the feather of his large black wings that fanned behind his back.
For several long moments Harry was stunned. And infinitely glad it was already cool enough in the evening that he hadn’t come home and stripped out of his robes completely!
Then the breezed changed, and the figure’s scent reached him. Warm sandalwood and sweet orange blossoms, a hint of smoky cinnamon, a demon, an alpha. He smiled as Harry shivered. It had very little to do with the chill of the night.
“Hello, Harry.” The demon’s voice was low and smooth, like warm honey and dark chocolate. He smiled down at Harry, sharp fangs glittering in the dancing light.
Harry looked from him, to the food on the table, the sun catcher, and back.
The demon chuckled softly. “Yes it was me, come, sit and eat.” He pulled out a chair for Harry, even though it was his chair, his home, Harry suddenly felt a bit self conscious as he seated himself in the wooden chair, blanket draped loosely over his folded wings.
“Who are you?”
The smile never left the demons face as he sat down across from him, he took up one of the dishes of cream and placed several juicy berries in the thick milk. “My name is Tom. Is this okay?” He asked, holding the shallow bowl out to Harry like an offering.
Harry nodded and took the dish, gave it a little sniff before taking a sip. A deep, low growl rolled through Tom’s chest, sending all the little hairs on Harry’s arms and neck standing. In the a...very pleasing way. Harry licked his lips, sitting the bowl on the table.
“Um...Tom?”
“Yes, my dear?” The growl had transferred to Tom’s voice, making it rough. Musical.
“What...is this?”
“I have found you most pleasing, Harry.” Tom said easily, “And you have enjoyed my gifts, yes?” Harry nodded. “These, my dear one,” Tom said with a wave of his hand that took in the whole of the table and the sun catcher, “are my courting gifts.”
“Courting!” Harry squeaked, almost tipping over the bowl of cream in his flurry to press his hands to his mouth. Courting!? He had thought maybe another fairy...never a demon. He didn't know demon's courted!
“Of course.” Tom smiled, bright and wide. “Do you accept.”
ACCEPT!
“But...but you never asked!”
Tom tilted his head, “asked? asked what?”
“To court me!”
Tom’s laugh was more of a scoff this time, the wave of his hand as though brushing off a pestering fly. “Why ever would I need to ask to give you gifts. That’s hardly in the spirit of things, now is it? If you weren’t interested in the gifts you just wouldn’t have used them. I would have gotten the hint.”
And Harry had not only accepted them all he had done so with genuine joy at each and every turn...
“But...but I don’t know! I didn’t know you wanted to be...want us to be...”
“Mates!” Harry would have almost said that Tom chirped with happiness at the word, except there was so much growl in his voice now that such a word was far too light and carefree for the sound that actually admitted from him.
“...mates...” Harry said in a daze.
Tom rose from his seat to kneel before Harry, taking one of his small hands in his own, much larger one. Careful of the little silver rings that now adored his fingers.
Gifts from Tom.
Courting gifts.
“H-how did you touch the silver?” Harry asked, he felt very far away, like floating without the aid of his wings.
Tom laughed, “very carefully,” he brought Harry’s hand to his mouth and kissed a spot on his knuckles that wasn’t coated in the dreaded silver. “My little butterfly, my spark of light, do you accept my courting?”
All Harry could do was blink at him. Was this the way that demons did things? They just left random gifts for their intendeds and hoped they’d accept without even knowing who sent them? Who they would be agreeing to mate to. Forever!
Tom was very handsome, even for a demon. And his gifts had not only been of fine quality, they had been exactly to his tastes. Quite literally. On some impulse he lifted the hand that was not held tight and brought it up to one of Tom’s massive horns. It was smooth, it felt like metal, like iron, but it did not burn him to touch. A deep purr rumbled through Tom as Harry ran his hand across the horn. He jerked back, startled at the noise. Tom chuckled and kissed his hand again to sooth him.
“I...I don’t know much about demons.” Harry confessed, he plucked one of the berries out of the cream and ate it to have something to do. It was...possibly the best thing he had ever eaten. Ripe blackberries that had first been dipped in honey then soaked in sweet cream. His eyes fluttered closed as he hummed and chewed in pleasure.
“I’ll teach you whatever you want to know. We’re not that complicated really.”
“You like iron though...but it’s poison.”
“I like you more than any work of iron that ever was, is, or could be.”
That...was a good answer. Harry plucked up another berry and thought some more. “I’m doing pretty well without an alpha...no one has ever bothered me before.”
“And no one ever will, for as long as I live. So long as you let me protect you.” Tom was quick to answer, holding Harry’s one hand in both of his, “and I’ll keep you happy. Like you are now. Help you tend your flowers, or simply cook you delicious foods. My magics lend themselves to the creations of gems and illusions. I made that myself, just for you.” He nodded to the sun catcher, and Harry was reasonably impressed by that. He had thought demons did not like the light, to find one not only able but willing to put up with such a discomfort for him was a good sign.
“Further more I will love you and keep you warm and safe. And if you so choose, it would bring me great joy to one day give you children.”
Harry chewed his mouthful of berries thoroughly, perplexed, he swallowed and asked, “Half demon, half fairy cubs?”
“It is possible.”
“I’ve never seen them.”
“If elves and even giants can mate with humans than we, certainly, should be able to reproduce together. Besides,” Tom leaned forward, eye suddenly dark as drinking up all the light around them, “it doesn’t mean we can’t at least try.”
Harry ducked his head as his cheeks flushed, though he couldn’t help the pleased smile that curved his lips or the answering spike of his scent, responding to Tom’s own. “I see no reason why we could not...try, that is.”
“Does that mean you accept!” Tom asked excitedly, holding Harry’s hand to his chest, against his wildly beating heart.
Harry bit his lip, and nodded. Before he could so much as squeak at the sudden movement his whole body was pressed to Tom’s chest as large black feather wings enfolded them both in a rush of scent and warmth. He got a lungful of happy alpha pheromones before Tom was kissing him senseless. He was breathless by the time Tom pulled away, his red eyes gleaming in the twinkling light of the bewitched gems. He held Harry close, strong but gentle as he brushed hair from his face, tracing his lines of his cheeks, nose, and chin as though he were the most precious thing in the world.
“Thank you, Harry. Thank you for letting me spend eternity making you happy.”