Upon entering the darkened room Gilda waved her hands dramatically and a few candles spread across the room flickered to life. Micah had no time to register what he saw as her hands immediately moved to extract him. She set him down on a table next to a candle easily thrice his height. She bent down so that her face was level to him. “Gilda will grab us some food from the pantry. Young Master is to stay right here till she gets back.”

She wrapped her tail around a large rough wicker basket and picked up a glass bottle as tall as her knee by a chord tied around its neck. Micah only just realized that the large jug was an old perfume bottle of his mothers as Gilda walked through a second door that exited into the pantry. Micah had never seen the inside of the fairy’s room before and since he had no intention of disobeying her command to stay put he spent his time looking around. 

Her room was composed of various items re-purposed for their fairy owner. A large purple pillow now served as a bed. A wine bottle had been cut in half vertically and was serving as a bathtub along the wall. A small hand mirror with a chipped corner now hung upside down on the wall as a full length vanity mirror. A teacup with a broken handle sat upside down next to the table serving as a stool. 

In a corner he saw spools of thread, a pincushion, needles, and buttons; everything Gilda used to make her own clothes as well as repair family items. Gilda had also made a number of pillows and cushions scaled to her size that were spread about the room and floor. Hanging on the wall were some of Gilda’s dresses and scraps of a large variety of cloth. The ceiling had bits of colored glass and broken costume jewelry hanging from every available space. These reflected and refracted the candle light filling the room with a kaleidoscope of colors. Half the ceiling was an old pane of glass to let light in from the pantry during the day.

Micah began to pace the surface of the table, aside from the candle the only other items that occupied it was a silver coin as big as a stage, a thimble that he could have climbed into, and a knife taller than himself. He pondered these items for a moment before realizing that these were Gilda’s dinner setting, her plate, cup, and, well, knife respectively. He was just beginning to wonder where exactly Gilda would have acquired a fairy sized knife in the first place when she returned from the pantry. 

Gilda was carrying the glass bottle, now full of wine, with both hands. The basket, loaded with unseen items, was set down roughly next to Micah by her tail. She set the heavy bottle on the floor and uncorked it. Grabbing the thimble from the table she poured out a large portion of wine. After downing a mouthful she sat the thimble down next to Micah. 

“Young Master will have to share Gilda’s cup, she doesn’t have anything small enough for him” she said as she adjusted a cushion on top of the teacup and sat down. Micah leaned over the edge of the thimble and peered into, what was to him, several barrels of wine. As Gilda unpacked the basket of dried meats, bits of cheese, and a particularly large blueberry Micah spooned out some wine with his hands and took a drink. 

He was taken aback as the thimble was pulled away from him and up to Gilda’s waiting lips. As she drank he walked to the edge of coin turned platter. Gilda quickly began cutting off tiny pieces of meat and cheese and set them before him. They ate in silence for a few moments. Micah got up to get more wine only to find the reservoir had been drained by Gilda. 

“Gilda was thirstier than she thought” she giggled as she poured more. Taking several mouthfuls for herself she set it back down for Micah. He had to lean into the thimble in order to reach the wine this time. After drinking his fill he sat back down next to the coin. Gilda finished off the remaining wine and poured herself another thimble. 

The tiny portions Gilda had cut off for him was far too much food for Micah to ever eat in a single sitting, so having had his fill he simply watched Gilda eat her food and drink her wine. Having eaten the last of the meat she bit juicily into the blueberry. She shoved the massive fruit into Micah’s face. “Does Young Master want any?” she asked. 

“No thank you, Gilda. I’m already full.” He said sadly. The miniature furniture of Gilda’s room had helped him maintain the illusion that he wasn’t completely insignificant. But sitting next to a massive berry, smaller than a marble at his normal size, he couldn’t help but think about how tiny he really was.

Gilda snorted then laughed “Is that so? Young Master should always be this easy to feed.” She picked up the blueberry again and took another bite as she pivoted on her seat and reclined against the wall. She watched, between sips of wine, as Micah got up and walked to the edge of the table. 

Micah looked down, in part to judge the height of the table, but mostly to check the jar of wine. He had lost count of how many ‘thimbles’ Gilda had consumed, but about a third of the original bottle was already gone. He then realized that he had no idea what effect elf wine had on brownies so he it was pointless to speculate. Even if he did know, what could he do about his giant host’s drinking habits? Both etiquette and practicality prevented him from broaching the subject of drinking wine in her own room.

Micah turned around to find that Gilda had shifted to leaning on the table with her chin resting on her hand. She lazily sat down the thimble and pressed her finger into what remained of Micah’s serving, the only food left on the plate. She licked the small bit of meat and cheese off her finger then picked up the thimble once again.

She locked eyes with him and said “Gilda has a question for Young Master.” 

“Yes?” he asked slightly unsure of her mood as she bottomed up the thimble. 

Gilda began by depositing her cup on the table with a loud thud, “Why does Young Master always pick Gilda up by her tail?” she asked pointing her finger accusingly at him. 

“Uh…” Micah said, uncertain of how to explain himself to the large, and possibly drunk, fairy “I don’t know” he said honestly. Gilda’s tail rose up next to him. The tuft of hair with its cute pink ribbon now loomed ominously over his head as she refilled the thimble.

“Young Master doesn’t know?” Gilda said mockingly. “He does it so often Gilda thought he had a good reason” she said as she dropped her tail heavily onto Micah. 

He was bowled over by the golden haystack of loose hair. “GILDA” Micah yelled as he tried to grab the solid end of her tail hidden inside to better push it away. 

“Does Young Master need something?” she replied, casually flopping the end of her tail to his side and letting him up.

“Yes, do not assault me with your tail!” he said standing up “I’m sor…” but he wasn’t able to finish his sentence as Gilda’s tail swept across the table tripping his legs out from under him. Landing roughly Micah started again “Gilda, I’m sorry…” but he was cut off by her flipping her tail on top of him once more. 

Gilda leaned forward with a devilish grin and lifted her tail just slightly off of Micah “Was Young Master about to say something?” she asked in a fake innocent tone. 

“Gilda, I’m sorry that I” she dropped her tail on him once more with a giggle but Micah continued anyway “… I’m sorry I always pick you up by the tail.”

“Hmm… Gilda thinks Young Master is just sorry he’s being bullied by Gilda’s tail” she said flapping the end of her tail up and down on the defeated Micah a few times. It didn’t hurt Micah but it was somewhat like being pelted with a large sentient rug that possessed just enough weight to make rolling away or standing up impossible. 

“No.” Micah insisted “I’m sorry, I should be more respectful of you.”

“Young Master should!” Gilda agreed, withdrawing her tail and sipping more wine. “But, Young Master still hasn’t said why he does it.”

Micah pulled himself up into a sitting position “I guess it’s because… you look cute when dangling by your tail” he finished guardedly expecting the tail to return and flick him again. If he had been looking up he might have seen Gilda blush slightly. 

“Gilda is always cute” she said matter-of-factly setting the thimble down next to him. The jar was now light enough for her to pick it up and pour out. Micah watched quietly as barrels of wine flowed from the jar into the thimble. A mischievous thought entered Gilda’s head, and just as the thimble was about full she shifted her hand slightly and doused the tiny elf in wine.

“GILDA!” he yelled again, but he could not be heard over the fairy laughing at her own prank. She struggled to set the jar down without fully spilling its contents on the floor. Micah stood up, completely drenched in wine. He would have been worried about his clothes except for the fact that they had already been stained pink by the magic smoke. 

She walked, still laughing, over to her corner of sewing supplies to grab two scraps of cloth. She began to wipe up the spilled wine around Micah with the first piece and set the second bit of cloth next to him. “Young Master can take his wet clothes off and wear the silk piece for now, Gilda will have to make him some robes tomorrow” She said still suppressing fits of laughter. 

Micah looked up at her sternly for a moment before saying “Could I have some privacy while undressing?” 

Gilda laughed again and covering her mouth with one hand she simply flipped the basket on the table over with the other. Micah was upset, but the basket had enough space in its weaving that he still had candlelight to see by. As he undressed Gilda started thinking out loud “Gilda hasn’t made clothes that small since she was a little girl. When Gilda made them for her dollies. It’s too bad she didn’t keep any of them, but then again Young Master probably doesn’t want to wear dolly dresses.” The mental image of Micah wearing the flowery polka dot dresses she made for her childhood dolls caused her to double over with another fit of laughter.

Micah had finished undressing and dried himself off as best he could with the already wet cloth, but the wine was sticky and even without his clothes he still felt soaked. He wrapped the black piece of silk around his waist like a towel as there wasn’t enough material to make a toga or robe. He stood waiting, cold and sticky, for Gilda to flip the basket over again and quite ready for the night to be over with. He could hear Gilda moving around but the basket obscured enough light to where he couldn’t make out what she was doing. 

Suddenly the basket was lifted. Gilda stood in front of him, but she was no longer wearing her working dress. Instead she was wearing a black silk robe, his makeshift garment obviously having been a left over scrap from crafting it. Her robe did not extend beyond her mid-thigh, and given his lowered perspective from the table, it seemed to be in danger of opening up and concealing nothing at all. In one hand she held the fresh thimble of wine, but her other hand was already reaching for him and as it did the shoulder of the robe slipped down and revealed her freckled cleavage, in all its candlelit glory.

“Would Young Master like to join Gilda for a bath?” she asked scooping the awestruck elf into her palm.