Bridge Over UnTroubled Water
The story that fairies lived at the bottom of the garden had always amused Serenity. Partly because she didn't believe in fairies. Partly because she was sure non-one would want to live at the bottom of her garden. But also because she couldn't imagine anything being able to get past her wards and charms without her knowing – or even at all. Well, what Serenity didn't know couldn't hurt her.
She knew. And she was amused. As if any charms could keep her out. Mortals were so amusing, thinking they could control everything. They didn't realise that there were things bigger than them, things they couldn't control. Like water. Mortals might think they could control it – dam it, shape it, use it. But water couldn't be controlled. It would go wherever it wanted.
Like she did.
And where she wanted to go happened to be the stream at the bottom of Serenity's garden. The charms and wards might not keep her out, but they kept out other things out. And, despite what Serenity thought, living at the bottom of a garden was the only way to go. It was peaceful. She liked peaceful.
But sometimes – just sometimes – it wasn't peaceful. Sometimes, it was quiet. She didn't like quiet. It was lonely. She was surprised she could still get lonely after all this time, but sometimes she did. Sometimes, she wished she had someone to talk to.