"Very real." Becca's eyes sparkled with amusement at Harper's reaction. "There's one living at the inn, actually. Angus and Renee leave out cream and cake for it every night."
Harper's mind whirled with this new revelation. Just when she thought she was getting a handle on this supernatural community, something new emerged to surprise her. "I thought those were just stories. Folklore."
"Renee says, most folklore has some basis in truth," Becca said, spearing a kalamata olive with her fork. "The stories are right about the brownies that they are particularly shy around humans. They prefer to work unseen. I've never actually seen one myself," Becca admitted. "But according to the old tales - and what Renee has told me - they're small, usually brown-colored, hence the name, and they help with household chores. But only if they choose to. You can't force them, and you definitely can't try to trap them or trick them into showing themselves."
"So not like the house elves in the Harry Potter movies?" Harper asked, frowning. "The ones who are basically slaves?" Reyna bristled at the concept, her fox nature rejecting the idea of being bound to serve.
"No, not at all." Becca shook her head emphatically. "Though the Dobby character was clearly based on stories of real brownies and hobgoblins from old European folklore - though mostly Scottish, I think."
Harper and Becca both looked up as Tamera approached, balancing two steaming plates with practiced ease. The rich aroma of grilled meat and Mediterranean spices wafted through the air, making Harper's mouth water.
"Here we are - souvlaki for Harper, and lamb kebab for Becca." Tamera set the plates down with a flourish, the colorful arrangements of grilled meat, rice, and vegetables creating an appetizing display. "Everything's fresh off the grill."
"This looks amazing," Harper breathed, inhaling the fragrant steam rising from her plate. The souvlaki was perfectly charred on the outside, nestled on a bed of fluffy rice pilaf studded with herbs and pine nuts. Grilled vegetables in vibrant colors - red peppers, purple eggplant, yellow squash - filled the rest of the plate.
"Absolutely wonderful," Becca agreed, her eyes lighting up at the sight of her kebabs. "Thank you, Tamera."
"Enjoy your meal." Tamera beamed at them, and headed back toward the kitchen with a wave.
Becca picked up where they'd left off. "They're similar to house elves in some ways, but the stories got changed quite a bit for the books."
"But I remember in the movies, giving them clothes sets them free?" Harper's brow furrowed as she tried to reconcile the fictional version with what Becca was telling her.
"That part is actually based on real brownie lore, but not because they're enslaved." Becca's eyes lit up with enthusiasm - she seemed to love sharing knowledge about the supernatural world. "They do stop working for you if you give them clothing, but it's because they get highly offended. They're not servants at all. They choose to help around the house because they want to, and offering them clothes suggests you're trying to pay them or treat them like servants. Okay, so that part is just guessing. Butanyway, offering them clothing is considered a grave insult to a brownie, and they'll leave and never return."
Harper absorbed this information, fascinated by how reality differed from fiction. "So they just... help because they want to? No binding magic or contracts? In other words, they're not servants - they're choosing to help."
"Exactly." Becca's stormy eyes lit up. "They absolutely hate when people take them for granted, and they'll leave if that happens, too. Like, if someone deliberately leaves dishes in the sink overnight thinking 'oh, the brownie will take care of it' - that's a sure way to offend them."
"I don't blame them at all." Harper's lips pressed together in a frown. "That's treating them like they're obligated to clean up after lazy people. Like their help means nothing."
"Right? It's about respect." Becca gestured emphatically with her fork. "They choose to help because they want to, and they take pride in their work. Assuming they'll just handle whatever mess you leave shows you don't value their choice to help."
"It's like..." Harper searched for the right comparison. "Like if someone keeps assuming you'll cover their shift at work because you did it once to help them out. Eventually you feel used rather than appreciated."
"That's a perfect example." Becca nodded enthusiastically. "The brownies want their help to be appreciated, not expected. The minute people start taking advantage, that's when they pack up and leave - metaphorically speaking, since they don't actually own anything to pack. At least," she added, "not that we know of."
Harper smiled at the image. "Good for them. Everyone deserves to have their contributions valued."
“One afternoon, the handle of my trowel fell off while I was gardening. When I woke up the next morning, it was fixed,"Becca told her, looking absolutely thrilled. “That’s when Renee told me about them. ”
“How neat! Does it come out where you can see it?”
“No, they’re really secretive, apparently, and only come out at night after everyone is in bed. Probably they have some magical way of disappearing, I’m not entirely sure,” Becca said a bit wistfully. “I’d love to see one. Renee says she rarely sees him… or her, I guess, but she leaves out cream and cake every night for them. Apparently that’s what you do, leave them food on the hearth.”
That sounded kind of cool. Harper could seriously understand them being secretive, and in fact, she’d often wished she had a way to magically make herself disappear. Maybe it was the fox in her, but she found she had a certain sympathy… or maybe it was empathy?… toward the little creatures.
"Speaking of interesting people in our community," Becca said, wiping her mouth with her napkin, "would you like to meet Nathan? He's a musician - human, but he knows about our world."
Harper perked up, remembering what Katerina had mentioned earlier. "The one who plays the cello, and teaches at the music conservatory? I'd love to meet him." Her fingers tapped a light rhythm on the table. "I play the harp, myself. It would be nice to talk music with someone."
"Really?" Becca's eyes lit up. "Nathan will be thrilled. He's always looking to connect with other musicians." She pulled out her phone, her fingers flying over the screen. "Let me text him and see if he's free."
Harper finished the last bite of her souvlaki while they waited for Nathan's response. The meat was perfectly seasoned, and she made a mental note to compliment Tamera before they left.
Becca's phone chimed with a text. "He says we're welcome to come over when we're done here. He's just finished teaching for the day." She swiped through her apps. "I'll call another Uber."
"Perfect timing." Harper smiled as Tamera approached with their check. "The food was amazing, Tamera. I'll definitely be back."
