Bog was not expecting Marianne to panic. In his defense, she wasn't prone to panicking, and he didn't realize the full implications of the gift he had just given her.

Goblins and fays all had some tradition of birthday celebrations, and among goblin couples, it was customary to give one's partner a gift on their birthday. Fairies often received gifts from relatives and close friends, and it was strongly encouraged that the gifts be made by the gift-giver rather than bought.

Marianne and Bog had compared traditions two months ago, when Griselda started hinting to Marianne that Bog's birthday was coming. (That had also led to the surprising discovery that Marianne was several years older than Bog. They'd both assumed their ages to be the other way around.)

For the first of Marianne's birthdays they would spend as a couple, Bog had made her a necklace.

He had carved a set of wooden beads. They were long and thin, etched with the pattern of various trees' bark. A single round bead was carved to look like a flower. He'd strung and unstrung and restrung them over and over before he was satisfied with the arrangement, then tied the cord in a loop, wrapped the necklace in a soft leaf, and pinned it shut with spruce needles so he wouldn't keep fussing with it and possibly ruin it.

Bog anticipated many possible reactions. He hoped, of course, that she would love the necklace and immediately put it on and wear it often. He thought Marianne would at least like it. Bog worried she might be upset, if it resembled something a certain previous suitor had given her, and thought at worst she might be offended he'd given her something pretty instead of a new weapon – but he'd asked her sister for gift ideas and Dawn had suggested jewellery, so that probably meant it would be okay … right?

They were sitting on a bench in the dining hall of the newly-built Dark Forest castle. It was just the two of them, although undoubtedly Bog's aides and Marianne's handmaidens were lingering just out of sight and listening in.

Marianne smiled at Bog and unpinned the leaf packet. She casually stuck the spruce needles in her hair as she unfolded the wrapping. She looked down at her lap, and stiffened.

Her eyes went wide, her jaw jutted forward, and her wings twitched the way they did when she was consciously stopping them from flaring in agitation. She did not touch the necklace, only the leaf. Her breathing was fast and shallow.

Oh no, he'd gotten it wrong, he'd gotten it wrong …!

"Bog," said Marianne, in a carefully level voice he usually only heard in Council meetings. "Did Dawn, or my dad, or anyone from the Fairy Kingdom, tell you what necklaces mean?"

"Dawn – I asked her what you might like for your birthday and she said jewellery, but she didn't say a specific kind, and – I just thought you'd like it –!"

She sighed, but she was suddenly smiling.

"Okay. We can clear this up." Still not touching the necklace, Marianne carefully put it down between them. "We – that is, fairies – exchange necklaces when we get engaged. When I saw … that, I thought you were asking me to marry you."

There was a squeak from the other side of the door that might've been Thang or one of the sprites, followed by a "Ssshh!" that was either a different sprite or Stuff.

Bog's eyes bugged out and he could feel his shoulder spurs and wings spasming and he desperately cleared his throat. He didn't … object to the idea of maybe marrying Marianne someday, but – but they hadn't even known each other for a year yet! And they still had so much they needed to learn about each other! And Bog still wasn't sure if he wanted children or not, which his mother once told him was something to discuss before planning a wedding – and Marianne didn't know enough about goblins yet to be their Queen, and Bog didn't know enough about fays to be their King, and they hadn't even discussed if they were going to try merging the kingdoms or keeping them separate or – !

"What?" he choked out weakly.

"Marriage," said Marianne. She put her hand on Bog's but didn't meet his eyes, instead looking down at her other hand. "And – and I know you're nothing like him but I still have a negative association with weddings and I don't know if I'll ever want to get married. Like, at all. And that scared me because I couldn't think how to say 'no' to getting married without making you think I was saying 'no' to our entire relationship but I love you and don't ever want to lose you. And then there's politics and children and all sorts of other things we'd need to work out and … it's too soon. Or," she ran the hand not touching Bog's through her hair, "it would be, if you were actually proposing."

"I wasn't. I just wanted … I don't think I'm, we're, ready either. I just wanted to give you a birthday present."

"And it's beautiful. But … I don't think I can accept it." She looked at him now, a mix of gratitude and apology in her half-smile and uplifted brows. "Not unless I want my whole kingdom to think that we're … you know."

"I understand." Bog folded the packet up again and playfully retrieved the spruce needles from Marianne's hair to reseal it. "But, you do like it?"

"It's great, Bog. I've never seen beads like that."

"I carved them."

"From stone or wood?"

"Wood. Stone would take … a long time, to carve by claw."

"Handmade doesn't mean you can't use any tools."

"I know, but I wanted to do it this way." Bog curled his hand around Marianne's. "I could remake it into a bracelet, if you like, but the bead sizes might be a bit awkward."

"You know you don't actually have to give me a present." She leaned into his side.

"But I want to." He kissed her nose. "I suppose I could save this one for when – if!" Bog corrected himself hastily. He didn't want to be presumptuous about this. "For if we ever … if we're ever ready."

Marianne kissed Bog's nose. It was much easier for her to do than the other way around. "That sounds perfect. As for my birthday present … there is something only you can give me. I think I might like another kiss."

There was another noise from the other side of the door, this one sounding like a chorus of "Aww"s.