Chapter Text
“I never want my family to ever have to work again,” the brown haired man told me. She didn’t even ask his name at the time. Moonwort Calabar loved doing a deal for humans, especially if they didn’t clarify or qualify things. She sat back in a cushy leather chair, calculating.
With a grin, she snapped her fingers. “Your wish is my command. You will have your results within a fortnight. Thank you for choosing Moonwort Calabar Associates. Now for my payment.” She handed him a faded beige business card with her name and address on it, keeping her palm open as she waited for a stack of money. He handed her a small but hefty envelope full of bills. She counted it carefully, making sure the amount was the usual rate that was posted at the door. Moonwort placed the envelope in the top drawer of a mahogany desk, locked it and stood from the leather chair. She extended her hand across the desk for a handshake from the man, who shook it, albeit weakly. A shimmer of golden light encircled their hands, sealing the deal. “Anything else I can do for you?” The young man shook his head no as Moonwort showed him to the door of her musty office.
Moonwort made a iving making deals. It didn’t always have to be entering faerie circles or the like, though that made it easier and had more potent energy, making the deal last longer.
She closed the door behind him and got to work at the typewriter, writing letters of recommendations to a couple of people with hands in their wallets. The mayor’s secretary, a couple of his favorite businessmen and comrades, and of course, his inner circle of political confidants. Altogether, Moonwort wrote roughly the same letter about ten times, fingers bored of the same phrasing by the end, but it was the message that needed telling. She extracted the final letter from the typewriter, and placed the letters in envelopes, addressing each one.
Moonwort donned a long black coat, one that would hide her vibrant black and yellow speckled harlequin wings. She positioned her hat and secured it with a wooden hat pin, trying to obscure her face with it as best she could and took to the streets.
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That’s the tale every faerie in Seattle has been warned of. Don’t become another Moonwort Calabar. The higher ups realized how cheap faerie labor was. Jacob Schneider might have started it, but the unemployed humans blamed Calabar for the loss of income when they lost their jobs. While doing deals comes as naturally to the fae as breathing does to most mammals, after such a devastating blow to the human people, they were warned against doing anything even resembling a deal. Moonwort was run out of town and contracts with faeries were avoided at all costs, many refusing to even rent to faeries.
In the moment, Moonwort just wanted her people off of the streets and into jobs. All they really wanted was to get enough pixie dust on the table to be happy, a loaf of bread, and a roof over their heads. What they got was something very different.