"And if they do bother you?"

"They don't," he said ominously.

"Ah. You have that stare thing down, I see," she said with a sudden grin. "I thought you Were-cats practiced it. I think now it's an instinct." Her wings started up, and she buzzed up off the table and landed on his shoulder. He felt her slight weight as she seated herself. "Now take me to Triana," she ordered.

"That's it?"

"That's all I need to hear," she replied.

Tarrin wasn't sure what to make of her abrupt ending of their conversation. That she ended it with the manacles, and his aversion to humans, didn't seem to be a very good sign. Either way, he would go on after she made her decision. He had too much to do to die now, and he doubted that Triana would try to kill him seconds after Sarraya's judgement. If worse came to worst, he could get away from his kin, get back on the ship and flee to Arak before it came to blows. Regardless of his confidence, he was still very nervous as he entered the room and stared at the occupants. Triana sat with her two daughters in the main dining room, with Allia. Triana looked decidedly uneasy, but that was clamped down when Tarrin entered the room. She stood immediately as Sarraya flitted off his shoulder, then landed in her cupped paws. "Well?" Triana demanded.

"He's got some rough edges," she said. "Very rough edges. But I think he can manage to live by our laws. Congratulations, Triana, you can keep him."

Triana blew out her breath, and Nikki unclasped her paws from where she'd been wringing them. Shayle grinned at him brightly. Allia rose and took Tarrin's paw fondly, and he put his arm around her.

"A Selani," Sarraya said in interest, turning to look at her. "Your wife?"

"My sister," Tarrin replied.

"You have exotic tastes in friends, Tarrin," Sarraya winked. "I haven't seen a Selani in decades. How fares your people, Selani?"

"They prosper, as always, small one," Allia replied evenly. That she was talking to a being that few people ever saw didn't seem to faze her in the slightest. "Our land shelters us, and the Holy Mother Goddess watches over us."

"Lucky you," Sarraya winked. "Have any sweet rolls around here, Triana? I've been dying for a pastry since I left home."

"I'll have the cooks make you one, Sarraya," Triana promised.

"A small one. I don't want to weigh myself down with a full belly."

"They can't make one small enough for you, sprite," Triana challenged. "Just break off what you want."

"I hate waste," Sarraya grunted.

"You have four other mouths in here. I'm sure one of them will finish it for you."

"I don't like sharing either."

"Suffer," Triana said, putting her down on the table, and then walking back to the kitchen.

Sarraya turned to the two sister Were-cats easily. "You're getting tall, Nikki," she noted. "Last time I saw you, you were still wearing diapers."

"If I still did, people would talk, Sarraya," Nikki replied.

"Aren't you pregnant yet, Shayle?" Sarraya asked.

"I've been trying, but Thean won't look at me with Triana here, and Tarrin won't cooperate."

"Shame on you, cub," Sarraya turned on him and winked. "Making Shayle go without."

"She didn't ask nicely," Tarrin drawled.

"I'm starting to think that it takes a large club to get Tarrin's attention," Shayle complained. "He won't tell me how Mist managed-"

"Mist? You were jumped by Mist?" Sarraya asked in surpise.

"There's a story behind it, but the short answer is yes," Tarrin replied.

"Have a seat, boy. You have some talking to do," she said, pointing at a chair by the table where she stood.

"I thought Triana would tell you about that."

"She just told me you healed Mist's scars. She never said anything about that."

Tarrin sat down, as did the others, and Tarrin calmly repeated the circumstances around his relationship with Mist. He didn't feel very embarassed to talk about it in front of four females, at least until he got around to the conceiving part. He glossed over that, focusing more on the fact that she was pregnant than how it happened.

"Well," Sarraya said after he finished, "I'm certainly glad I decided you fit. If I'd have known about this, I'd have accepted you no matter what."

"Why?" Allia asked.

"That was plain old compassion, Selani," Sarraya replied. "That's a trait we like to see in Were-cats, because it doesn't show up very often."

"We're not heartless, Sarraya!" Shayle objected.

"You're not friendly either," Sarraya said, unperturbed. "If you weren't so contrary, we wouldn't be so suspicious of you."

"If you weren't so suspicious, we wouldn't be so contrary!" Shayle shot back, standing up and looming over the tiny Faerie. "If you didn't notice, we don't react well to people that don't like us."

Triana returned with a tray of sweet rolls, covered with a sweet honey icing. "Children," she said calmly, setting it down beside Sarraya, "let's not be nasty. Sarraya is our guest."

"Yes, mother," Shayle growled, sitting back down grumpily.

Tarrin mused staring at the Faerie. The roll was nearly as large as she was. What would it be like to go through life when one was so small? She was the size of a doll. Well, he reasoned, he did have something of an idea of that. He lived for nearly three months as a cat, and his cat form was only a little taller than she was. Larger than her, but at about the same eye level. She sat down on the table, cross-legged, and hauled one of the rolls over next to her, then she began to eat. He watched her eat, and he was astounded. She nearly ate the entire roll! It was almost as big as she was, yet she managed to eat more than half of it! Where did the food go? It didn't show on her. Her belly wasn't distended or swollen. It was almost like it vanished.

"Keep staring at me, and I'm going to throw this at you," the Faerie warned.

"I'm sorry, I'm just trying to get used to you," he said quickly. "I've never seen anyone quite like you before."

"Give him some slack, Sarraya," Triana said mildly. "He's never seen a Faerie before. You are rather interesting."

"I think my brother marvels at your ability to eat, Faerie," Allia said boldly. "You ate nearly half your own body weight, yet it does not show."

Sarraya winked. "Don't apply human or Selani norms to me," she chided. "You should know better. If you really have to know, we Faerie have very fast metabolisms. Flying is alot of work, so we have to eat alot and often to keep in flying trim."

"I guess that makes sense," Tarrin said after a moment.

"I'm so glad you approve," she teased.

"She reminds me of Faalken," Allia remarked.

"I was about to say the same thing," Tarrin agreed.

"Faalken?" Sarraya asked.

"A Knight," Allia answered. "Well known for his pranks and sense of humor."

"I don't see anything wrong with that," Sarraya grinned. "Life requires us to laugh at it."

Tarrin wandered away from the others after enjoying the sweet pastry, going back into the room with the portrait of the Eastern man. Accepted. It felt a little strange to know that he no longer had to fear the Were-cats, or worry about Fae-da'Nar. A good portion of his recent past was tied up with them, from his bizarre love/hate relationship with Jesmind to the touch-and-go encounters with Triana. And the time between them was filled with a worry, a foreboding, of when they would come for him. He had been Rogue, hunted, despised, but now a simple test had transformed him into an accepted member of their society. That seemed illogical to him, but he discovered long ago that applying logic to Fae-da'Nar was a foolish undertaking. Their rules were their own, and many of their customs seemed to be strange to him. He stared at the portrait, his eyes riveted to the face of the exotic man. He looked so serious, so august, as if he knew that his face would be seen by men and woman a world away, and wanting to make a very good impression on them. He certainly impressed Tarrin. The man had to be a ruler, a noble, because his carriage, expression, and the condition of his robe cried out that he was a man of importance and wealth. Such men were often rulers, be it a ruler of a kingdom or a ruler of a large business.