Beguiled

Ithiriel crouched down, regarding her sibling's latest acquisition from the mortal plane.

"And how did you ensnare this particular mortal, Varaloth?" Asked the melodious voice of the eldest of the pair.

"You wound me, sister. 'Ensnare' is such a harsh term. You so often fail to see... nuance - you're more like the humans than you care to admit."

As Ithiriel rolled her violet eyes, the tiny human sat cheerfully on her miniature swing, swinging back and forth with a blank expression, staring at some far off point, seemingly content in her confined space and not at all phased by the enormous fey beyond her glass realm.

The sister responded. "I say 'ensnare' because I know you like to linger at the threshold between our world and theirs and play the act of some patron willing to grant wishes and whatever other nonsense you peddle to these creatures."

Varaloth smirked, leaning forward like he had some secret. "This one asked to be beautiful, forgetting of course that beauty is in the eye of the beholder - and my eye told me she'd look rather beautiful adorning a shelf in my chambers, all tiny, swinging and humming away. She seems to agree."

Ithiriel shook her head, unamused by her brother's antics. "How long is that thing going to be in our home?"

"Don't worry, I'll deliver her back once I think of a prettier decoration..."

Ithiriel groaned. "Meaning?"

Varaloth collapsed onto his expansive bed. "You know how time is here, darling - she could swing for a decade or so, but it'll barely be a minute back in their realm."

The elder sister had had enough and strode towards the door; at the threshold she turned on her heels and stared across the room at the shrunken prisoner. "Is that... did you shrink down one of my gowns for her?"

Varaloth shrugged, lay back with a smirk. "I like it better on her."