My Little Collection

Original Prompt: A lute-playing goblin falls in love with a tower-dwelling witch, and shows up at her door to court her. Surprisingly, she's willing to give the relationship a shot (although she's not too sure about the old goblin tradition of giving your loved one a dead crow).

Pleasantly confused, the fair witch had invited the surprisingly well-groomed Goblin in upon him calling at her door. It had been a few months, now, of evenings spent with his music floating up to her window on winds perfumed with the herbs and flowers of her garden. It was certainly a surprise to find her odd little musician at her door and begging her for a chance to prove his devotion.

Settling in her chair, she gestured for the Goblin to take a seat on the one nearby. "Please, sit. Would you like something to drink? I have tea if it's to your preference?"

"Oh, um, yes?" He fumbled, feeling a purplish grey blush upon his ear tips. He hadn't expected to be welcome upon her doorstep, much less invited into her home for tea. A lovely home, as well. Yes, the walls rose high, but they also descended below the earth enough that one could smell the rich coolness of dirt in a pleasantly subtle manner. Much like a well-dug Goblin's dome. All was clean and tidy, with prisms, gems, and glass catching light from higher windows to send it glittering and scattering through the chamber in brilliant array.

Goblins had many things they prized, but shining things were quite high in their preferences. When much of one's time is spent in darkness, one grows to admire things that reflect light, especially in pleasant ways. This witch had already earned his admiration for her appreciation of his music. Now that admiration only grew as she unknowingly fulfilled and exceeded the desired attributes of a Goblin's home as far as decor.

"I do apologize, but, I never did catch your name." The witch, whom he somehow had never properly been acquainted with, informed regretfully.

"I am Fryel, son of Getrud. Goblin of the Drydell Hill Clan." He introduced proudly, only to flush again under her rapt attention and smile. Among Goblins, he knew baring one's teeth to be a sign of distress or anger, but, he had come to learn that the humans and their magical kin mean it as a gesture of welcome or happiness. Which makes sense when you consider how dull their teeth are in comparison to Goblin teeth. He had ensured his own sharp teeth were thoroughly cleaned before arriving, having observed the humans' detailed attention to their hygiene.

"It is a pleasure to meet you, Fryel, son of Getrud." She welcomed politely. "I am Jenassa, Witch of the Vale." As she spoke, she lifted a hand and made a simple motion before cups of tea arrived, still steaming gently, on the table near them. "I must admit, Fryel, I had not anticipated your request of courtship." Seeing his ears droop, she quickly continued. "To be perfectly honest, I would be shocked by such a request from anyone. Many find me intimidating. I find I am at a bit of a loss as to why you would wish to court me. From what I understand Goblins choose a singular life partner, and rarely outside species are considered." Fryel nodded, carefully sipping at the offered tea with it's dainty cup before answering. After all, to refuse any food or drink from one's chosen was incredibly rude, though usually it was the female who would initiate the courtship, so he already was making a gamble with her favor.

"Yes, this is true. However, I believe you are a worthy life partner. While many do not appreciate goblins, you have been quite hospitable not only now but prior. Even when I had unknowingly trespassed into your garden to play music you were not coarse towards me. In fact, you invited me to play in your garden whenever I pleased as long as I swore not to disturb your plants." He pointed out. "Furthermore, you displayed appreciation of my music, which is a very odd trait for a human or their kin to have towards the Goblin style of playing." At that, Jenassa waved a dismissive hand.

"It isn't the music itself that upsets humans, really. The fact that your lutes are carved of human skulls and bone is more to blame." She explained. "It doesn't bother me since I am aware such bones are those of enemies who attack your villages. They knew the risks. Same as those who disturb myself or my garden with ill intent only to become fertilizer." Fryel melted a little at the thought of such devotion and protection of one's home, but brought himself to focus on the conversation.