Disclaimer: I don't own this, Holly Black does. Except Irene. I own Irene. Nah na na na na.

A/N: Dude, I was so totally not going to update because of my crazy schedule. Everybody should thank Kinz for getting my ass back at my desk chair so I could update again. lol. Kinz, you pretty much rock. (:

Rose Spirit: Alas, not quite. :P You'll just have to read it now, won't you?

Midnight-kelpe: Er, you can get off your knees now. lol.

Mariphear: Umh, not really. I mean, I get inspired, y'know?

Silver Shield Maiden: Umh, 6 or 7? what? Other than that, yeah... Natasha's dad won't come into play for a bit. Sorry!

EDIT: Ravus's eyes are now gold! You can even check! I fixed it!

"Oh, and that'll be Aspen now." At the look Natasha was giving her, she frowned. "I know how you feel about these things, but I gave him keys to the front door. I hope you don't mind too badly."

Chapter 4: "The Good Folk"

Natasha sat back down uneasily. Before she could open her mouth to reprimand her grandmother about security issues, the door was pushed open and a voice called from the direction of the front door.

"Irene? You home?"

"You let him call you by your first name?" Natasha asked her grandmother incredulously as the woman hobbled around the table. "What are you guys, dating now?" She only got a glare in response, and shut her mouth as Irene disappeared around the corner into the living room.

"Hello Aspen. Haven't seen you in days. Haven't been up to any mischief now, have we?"

"Only as often as I can manage it," was the retort that came from Aspen. Despite herself, Natasha felt her traitorous curiosity rising up in her gut, and moved to stand. Before she could get far, Irene hobbled back in to view, with a young man on her heels.

Natasha was surprised to see that he was just about her age. Or at least, that's how old he looked. Unbidden to her mind cam the memory of Irene telling her 5-year-old self that faeries could look as young as they wanted, or as old. For all she knew, this Aspen kid could be as old as Irene. Shaking the childish thought away, she watched as Aspen and her grandmother bantered back and forth for a moment.

As if sensing her thoughts, Aspen's eyes rose to meet her gaze, and Natasha hurriedly glanced at her shoes. If there was one thing that her friends always liked to tease her about, it was how she was helpless when it came to guys. It didn't matter how witty and carefree she was with her girl friends, when a guy came into her vicinity, she turned into a bumbling mass of shuffling feet and averted eyes.

Before she had lost his gaze however, she'd noticed how his eyes had gleamed a gold color she'd never really seen on anyone else. His gaze was unnerving, but she still felt like an idiot looking away from him. Natasha didn't want to know what Irene thought about the encounter, and forced herself to look up again before the elderly lady could say anything about it.

Two pairs of amused eyes regarded her as she looked up, and Natasha tried not to sigh out loud in exasperation. However, neither chose to say anything, and Irene instead turned to ask Aspen if he'd had anything to eat, maybe?

"No. And don't you dare try to feed me. I absolutely won't allow it." Aspen grinned, shaking his head as Irene immediately turned towards her cupboard. At his words, she narrowed here eyes at him.

"You're too thin, I keep telling you. If I don't feed you, who else will?" Irene smirked, as if she knew the boy wouldn't have a satisfactory answer.

"Irene," He began in a faux condescending tone, "I can feed myself, you know."

The old woman took one look at his lanky frame and responded frankly. "No, you can't." Irene turned her gaze to her granddaughter then, and commented wryly, "And neither can Natasha. The two of you should go binging together."

Oh my god… Irene did not just say that… Natasha told herself, but now Aspen was openly laughing and those gold eyes were focused on her again.

"You know we should, just to spite her?" Aspen asked her thoughtfully.

Instead of replying with one of the hundreds of witty things she could have said, Natasha just found herself grinning. At least she could still do that, even if she did go tongue-tied too often around guys. And Aspen did seem like a decent guy. Natasha had to admit that if Irene had tried feeding her more, she probably would have responded in much the same way.

"So, what's on the agenda today, Irene?" Aspen asked the woman lightly, and she responded in kind with a list of things she wanted him to accomplish for her, since she couldn't drive or run errands any longer.

It occurred to Natasha as she watched them that they were very friendly with one another, almost as if they'd known each other for years instead of just the one month Irene had specified to Natasha. Her mind went straight back to the faeries and their glamour, and she tried pushing away the idea for what felt like the bazillionth time today. What was wrong with her, that she suddenly couldn't stop thinking about little winged creatures? Maybe it was Irene's house that did it. The woman lived in the middle of New Jersey, next to an ancient graveyard, in a house that had been around for over a century. It was the perfect setting for some kind of creepy fairy tale, and Natasha felt suddenly like she'd accidentally stepped into one. From the eerie blonde girl she still couldn't get out of her dreams, to the gold-eyed boy standing only a few feet from her.

"Natasha?" Irene was staring at her granddaughter with wide eyes, and Natasha found herself snapping back to reality in a much more sudden fashion than she'd intended.

"Yeah?"

"Drift off?" Irene asked, her voice innocent and clear.

Natasha just rolled her eyes at her grandmother. "So? It's not like I missed much."

"Irene was wondering if you wanted to come along with us." Aspen supplied, and Natasha turned towards him, raising an eyebrow. He'd spoken for Irene when she was fully capable of doing so herself, and Natasha wondered why the woman didn't pounce on him for doing so. Irene was always very particular about what she could and couldn't do.

"Actually, I'm not one for going out today. I thought Natasha could accompany you instead. Both of you together will do a much better job of remembering what my old brain can't." Irene smiled at them both, and Natasha glanced at Aspen. The look on his face was unmistakably hurt, and Natasha couldn't help staring for a moment. She knew he'd catch her, and when his gaze turned towards hers, the emotion quickly bled away and she was looking at an unnaturally sharp-featured face devoid of any emotion. This time, it was Aspen who looked away first, and as Irene bustled them off towards the door, Natasha could have sworn the same look of hurt was spreading itself across her grandmother's gaze.

Just before they left, Irene seemed to remember some last minute errand, and told Aspen to wait a moment while Natasha waited outside.

Glancing around the driveway, Natasha was surprised to see no sign of a car. She tried to remember if she'd heard one come up the driveway at the arrival of Aspen, but her thoughts were punctured when Aspen shut and locked the door carefully behind himself and turned towards her, his eyes blank from any emotion.

Without glancing at her, he led the way down the driveway, and when he was halfway to the street, he turned to look back at her.

"Aren't you coming?"

"I thought so. Where are you going?"

Natasha thought Aspen looked as confused as she felt, and she tried to not have a look of disbelief on her face.

"Didn't you drive here?" When Aspen shook his head, Natasha groaned. "Do you want me to drive then? It's like, six miles to town from here." She tried not to let the distaste show in her voice. If she could prevent it, she wasn't walking six miles.

A brief look of disgust passed over Aspen's features, but when he spoke again, his voice just sounded bored. "I don't drive." With that, he took off down the driveway again, and Natasha found herself speeding up to catch him.

They walked in silence for a while, and Natasha tried not to think about all the weird glances they were probably getting from motorists passing by. It wasn't like there were a lot of pedestrians here. There wasn't even a sidewalk, for Christ's sake.

As they walked in silence, Natasha tried shoving down the impulse to look at him again. She kept telling herself that the only reason she was interested in him was because he had an interesting-looking face, but even she could tell that she wasn't fooling anyone.

Granted, he did have an interesting face, and when they stopped at the first stoplight a mile down the road, she glanced at him before he could notice her staring.

His face was more angular and his features sharper than she normally saw in people and the gaunt look of his frame made him even more so. However, he didn't slouch like other tall people she knew. Instead, his back was straight, as if he didn't care that he would never fit in with a crowd or ever get lost at the mall. The longish black hair that hung around his ears made his skin look sallow, and Natasha was wondering if the hair color was natural, when the guy turned to stare back at her with wide eyes.

The question he asked was thoughtful, and more of a statement than anything else, but Natasha was surprised by it nonetheless.

"You have the Sight, don't you?"

"Excuse me?" She asked, somehow knowing she was misinterpreting the question. "Yes, I can see."

A smile was trying not to show itself on his face, and when the light turned green, he walked ahead, his longer stride quickly outdistancing her. Natasha tried not to groan again.

"Wait!" When Aspen refused to acknowledge her, she just kept trotting along beside him until he seemed to take pity on her and slowed down.

"What do you mean, I have the Sight?" She pronounced the last word with a capital letter as he had done, which made him frown slightly, any traces of a smile gone from his face.

"I've done it now, haven't I?" He asked no one in particular, glancing at her resignedly.

"Done what?"

At this, he stopped walking, and Natasha actually found herself walking a step or two ahead before realizing her mistake and turning towards Aspen.

"You have the Sight. It isn't very strong with you, I'll warrant. Diluted in your blood through your mother's line, but solid in your father's line. Irene has the gift as well." He looked at her thoughtfully again, then glanced over her shoulder at the heavy cloud cover that had formed over the New Jersey coast.

Natasha was now feeling very confused, and more than a little nervous about being in the middle of nowhere with this Aspen kid. He was talking cryptically, which wasn't in the least amusing, as all it did was add to her confusion. What was all this about the Sight and bloodlines? And how did he know so much about her family anyway.

Irene's been telling him stories. Natasha thought despairingly, realizing that to Irene, all her family history was just as real as the fairy tales she'd read to her son and granddaughter when they'd been growing up. If Irene had been confiding in Aspen, there was no doubt she'd mixed fantasy in as well, and now Aspen was trying to goad Irene's granddaughter into thinking he was one of "them."

Right. Natasha thought. More like insane. Fairies don't even exist.

Trying to catch him at his own game, she asked blandly, "So, you one of 'them', then?"

"'Them?'" Aspen asked, watching her with raised eyebrows as her walked.

"Fairies."

Aspen paused before he answered, but there was no telltale sign of a grin like she'd suspected. Instead, as he nodded, she realized that he was serious. For a moment, she froze, grasping that she was standing in the middle of nowhere with some crazy dude who thought he was a fairy.

"They prefer not to be called that, though. Irene must have told you that."

What?

"What?" Natasha stopped for the nest stoplight, realizing they were almost at town now. Good. The faster they got there, the faster she could grab a taxi or something and hightail it back to Irene's house.

"The Folk don't normally like to be called "faerie", which is probably one of the basic stories Irene told you. And then of course, you really aren't supposed to say…"

"…their real names. I know all this. Why the hell are you telling me?"

His eyes widened, and he glared at her. "You don't know? I admit that the Sight is weakened in you, but you can't honestly not know!"

Feeling even more retarded than she had in a while, Natasha asked tentatively, "Know what?"

Aspen glanced away from her, looking lost.

"You mean to tell me…" He began hesitantly, as if he wasn't sure how to phrase it. "That Irene never told you that her house is situated almost on top of the Unseelie Court?"

"Er… no actually, she failed to mention it." Natasha stuttered, staring at Aspen with wide eyes. Old stories of Irene's came back to her at the mention of the Unseelie Court, and she found herself remembering tales about the place that weren't particularly endearing to her seven-year-old mind.

"And who are you, then? How come you keep visiting Irene?" Natasha found herself talking back Aspen, forgetting for a moment what she now instinctively knew him to be. No real human playing a prank would have been able to keep his story or his face so straight for so long.

Aspen sighed, running long fingers through his long dark hair. "I've known Irene for a long time."

"How long?" Natasha heard herself interrupting, but the words seemed to come out of some foreign creature, and not out of her own mouth at all. Why was she asking? Did she really want to know?

The faerie was counting in her head, and his answer, once he gave it, was exactly what Natasha hadn't wanted to hear.

"Since… 1943, I believe. Possibly 1945. I can't remember. Sometime during the war, anyway."

"Oh." It seemed like the only intelligent thing to say. "And…" She tried phrasing her question as best she could, but in the end just blurted it out. If he really was a faerie, there was really no polite way of asking anyway.

"What's your name? I mean, is it Aspen?"

She wasn't expecting his full name, so when he answered, she tried feeling proud that she'd gotten any sort of answer at all.

"I am called Ravus, most of the time."

Okay, last line stolen a little off Garth Nix, but only a diehard fan like me would notice, so I thought it would be okay :P

Also, keep reviewing! That's the only thing that keeps me going! lmao. Tell me you hate it to death that I've put Ravus instead of Roiben in. I know you do. C'mon, you're sitting there, foaming at the mouth in anger. You know you are. Either that, or you actually like Ravus a tiny bit more than Roiben gasp I know. (cough not-me-I-swear cough)