CW:

Talk of slavery, abuse, murder of children, self-harm by isolation. Flippant and deliberate verbal abuse of a former slave. Burns itching while huggums the person who made them so. LYRA POV!

I go still, can’t tear my eyes away. To… to…

No that’s… that doesn’t… But it does. Doesn’t it?

The words. It… it all started with the Dreamer Blighted words.

Fear. Pain. Spite.

Scrawled messily in that book. So odd and out of place. And… and when I wove them into curses. Into what I thought of as Rot Maggots, they… they ate people. Then disappeared. Never knew or cared where they swam off to. But…

Then I found them in the sea. And they remembered me. Loved me. Then in her weird Stormy Rift. In those books. So happy to nuzzle close and let me carry them too.

Those were her words. Her books. Her small and unborn children mixing with the ones we grew within me. Just… just… needing…

“Hey, Lyra. Girl!” A soft and loving voice is calling. “It’s okay. That… that doesn’t matter! Not one bit!”

Awnya’s words help. A little. But… They wouldn’t hate them for this. Don’t even hate me like they should. Their soul's sing nothing but love for our children.

“Beloved.” Our Watcher calls out in such a steady tone. Only partially tinted with fear and worry to match the terror in her soul. “Come back to us. Please?”

I did promise. Back… back when she agreed to be their mother too.

That I wouldn’t run. Wouldn’t go back to Thendra.

Undreka though… she laughs. But there's no mirth to it. “I assumed she’d gnaw on your soul till it Rotted away. But no. She groomed and bred you. Let her whelps suck at your plentiful soul’s tit.”

I flinch, but any anger I had is bled from me at those words.

“LYRA!” Raska spits, snarling in a voice so raspy. “Stop. Seriously. Back off. Let us burn this cunt!”

“Wh– why?” I whisper. “D– d– d–”

But the words get stuck. Hurt to think. But… but I have to know.

“Tell me, little Fae.” Undreka’s voice goes low. A cruel and purring teasing thing while her soul wibbles in... in such an odd way. “Did she simply… Ravage you until you learned to not to sing or talk? Or was your tongue cut free?”

I flinch and jerk up to gaze into her horridly gray eyes. “H– how…”

“Ah… It was the tongue.” She nods, letting a smirk touch her lips that doesn't match the tear of pain I see cut across her Amwella “She enjoyed doing that to the slaves she kept. Both for herself… and us.”

I… I want to snarl. To bite and tear and reave and break and scream and howl and cry and… and…

But… I never really stopped being her slave. Did I? Just…

“B– b– I… Sh– she… W– will…” I stammer.

“What’s that? Little Slave?” Undreka kneels. Moving to eye level with me.

“D– does sh– she…”

“What?” Undreka presses, soul finally seeming to match her words.

“L– l– love…” I force out through trembling lips.

“Love you?” Undreka almost adopts an expression of pity while her soul tilts in worry. “You know the answer to that, Wretch.”

My family continues to call. Continues to shout and plead as I fight to gather up the words. But I ignore them, pull Naranggas closer still. Trying to… to keep myself together. At least enough to ask this one question.

Have to know.

“Y– yes.” I force out and nod. “Kn– know. T– told m– me.”

“Then why ask?”

I shake my head. Meet her gaze with a hard one of mine. Not even trying to hide my tears or pain.

“L– love Th– them?”

Love her children?

Undreka’s expression sours, and she’s growling. “More than anything else in the Fae's broken Dream.”

Then I’m hissing. Sea-bed of a soul writhing in such fury.

But… not at Undreka. I see why she’s saying these things. What she really feels. Why she's giving me nothing but mean words. This… She would never hurt me. Not really. Not now. She tossed me away when I tried to show her that I wanted to love her. Begged for me to run. These words are… well they’re not to help me but… she’s not being cruel because she enjoys it. Just… Maybe it’s all she knows…

My anger and pain is for the shard within my core.

I take a deep breath, and a step back. Meet her gaze with a pained smile. Whispering. “S– sorry. A– and… Th– thanks.”

That… catches her off guard. Makes her soul’s carefully restrained emotions slip even more. Showing me the tangled messy muck within. The fear and pain and despair and... and even the hope.

“Tr– trying t– to s– save m– me fr– from h– her.”

She glares, Amwella bubbling with fury, begins to say something stupid.

“Stop.” I snap. And the sudden steady word and flexing of my Naranggas makes her flinch and go quiet.

“B– but th– they a– aren’t h– her.” I explain. “S– soft. K– kind. K– kept m– me a– a– alive. D– deserve b– better m– mothers th– than h– her.”

She freezes, then snarls. “Stupid Wretch of a Slave Godling!”

I do get a bit annoyed at that, snap out a Naranggas to push Undreka. Make her stumble and growl in surprise.

Stolen story; please report.

“St– stop.”

“Stop what?” She spits.

“L– lying. Pr– pre– t– tending.”

She goes still, only half regaining her balance. And even my lover’s calls quiet in surprise and curiosity all drowning in worry.

I sigh. “Tr– trying to m– make m– me h– hate you. K– kill. Y– you sss– see. Curse.”

Undreka’s eyes go a touch wide, but… it's a cracking in her soul that shows me the truth.

“Y– you… Ar– aren’t l– like o– other R– reavers.” I say, steady and trying to… to be like my Beloveds. “Y– you w– were trying t– to get a– away. Change. M– mebe. B– but… Th– th– thendra c– can br– bring you back. C– can’t sh– she? J– just… w– without m– memories? I– if D– die?”

Her eyes narrow. “You’ve seen the Pit then. She let you slaughter our brood many times over, but not for you.”

“Ye– yeah.” I nod, fight to not look away. “B– but… y– you w– were hi– hiding. In w– woods. R– running.”

She flinches. Just a little. But… her soul might as well be screaming her anger at the next words she feels bubbling up in me.

“Y– you w– were a sl– sl–”

Slave.

Undreka snarls, rises. “Slaughtering you and her clutch will prove otherwise. When I bring your writhing corpse dripping with the soulflame of her young she will know I am free. And even if she kills me she will die a slow death from the curse you laid on her. All plans Rotted and Broken. Oaths Kept!”

It’s my turn to smirk. Her words are annoying but… her soul is howling a melody I can feel deep in myself.

“Th– that w– won’t fr– free y– you.”

Undreka stiffens. “What?”

I sigh and try to gather up the words. “Fr– freedom… f– for us.” I point between her and myself. “I– is h– hard. S– scary. D– death s– seems e– easier. Th– that’s wh– why you– you’re–”

I hiss as the Lamentation bites. Hard. As I understand her better. Sympathize and try to feel and understand her pain.

Undreka is stiff. Eyes widening as her soul writhes in pain. Both for herself, and the damage it's causing.

“H– here. C– could g– go an–anywhere. B– but here. D– doing wh– what sh– sh– she wan– ts.”

“She wouldn’t want her clutch dead.” She tries to hiss.

I consider that. Feel my Jellyfish glow and thrum nuzzled to their mother’s souls.

“N– no. B– but… Y– you c– couldn’t do it. Th– they’re str– stronger now. A– ate F– Furth– Furthonois w– with me. M– might hurt. M– mebe k– kill me. B– but n– not them.”

And despite her stoic expression… Her soul wilts at that. And in turn the curse bites even harder as I wince and feel bad for the pain that understanding brings. Knowing that even in our struggles how... how we're still... like... reacting in ways she taught us to.

“B– best th– thing t– to d– do i– is f– find h– h– happiness a– away.” I whisper words that terrify me so much. Things I… I’m not sure I can do. Especially not alone. But can’t help but offer to her. Hope she's smarter than me. “H– hard. B– but. I tr– trying. A– a– and I’m st– st– stupid. L– leave h– her b– behind. Un- Dr- dr- dreka.”

This Reaver glares, but her soul begins to split in conflict within itself.

“Or…” I whisper. Voice way more steady than I feel. “Y– you c– can try again. Th– this time will kill. A– and y– you c– can g– go b– back to her.”

This Reaver’s eyes go wide as the moon as her Amwella glows with such fear at that. Not death, but... waking up to Thendra again.

“Where would I even go?”

“Nowhere.” My Watcher growls, and… from the way her soul wibbles I can tell she is so very mad at me but… understands what I’m doing. Agrees with, at least, where this has led us.

The Reaver looks past me to her as I carefully lower a few tendrils. Not to let Undreka pass or get an easy lunge but… enough to let them talk without my mess blocking their sight.

“You will be imprisoned here. Secluded from the other guests.” The Matron of this Manor states. “Or you die. Now. With whatever that entails.”

“What sort of choice is that?” Undreka spits.

“One with a future.” She counters easily. “Reavers can change. If you do, show that you can become safe, that is. You can become one of the many guests within these halls.”

Undreka considers that. “And of the three I killed?”

Tretion glares. “None of my guests have died without my permission in many years, Reaver Undreka. I am offering you a choice. And only because my Beloved wishes it. If not for her soft nature I would have gifted you only eternal entrapment. Made you suffer every torment I could imagine for trying to hurt my children.”

Undreka jerks back, surprise and fury and other things rippling across her face and soul. But… suddenly seems to really look about herself. Understand just how much this place loves my Brilliant Watcher. And what they’ve been able to do together.

This Reaver lowers herself to kneel on her big knees. Looking between us. Then… she slowly nods. “I accept your offer of imprisonment and seclusion. Will offer no violence toward you, your guests, or your children. Ever again.”

Our Watcher murmurs a string of commands, and behind Undreka a door wibbles into focus. Clicks and creaks open.

“Through there you will find… acceptable accommodations.” Tretion says as I slowly pull my Naranggas back to clear the path. “Your previous methods of moving undetected within my Manor no longer work, and if you so much as scratch a wall I will have this place tear your soul to ever small pieces. Is this understood?”

Undreka rises. Nods again. “It is.”

She hesitates, considers saying more but… only turns and disappears into the doorway. Which clicks shut the second she passes in.

And before a heartbeat passes I’m gasping in relief and dropping to my knees. That Old Curse settling and my lovers and Raska are pushing past my relaxing Naranggas. Gathering me up in a messy embrace of hissing love and tittering fear and hugs of shaking everythings.

“S– sorry.” I whisper to them all.

“Stupid spitfire girl.” Raska is growling. Caught between the urge to… to join in this messy hug pile and scream even louder.

I flinch a bit at that. But… Her soul's boiling fear and relief settle it quickly.

This is nothing like before. She's scared for me. Not of me. It's... really easy to see.

“Yeah… sorry Lyra I gotta agree with Raska this one time.” Our wonderful Fae surprises me by actually being angry with me too. “Dreamer’s Tits that was really stupid.”

I’m just… everything hurts a bit. Body is sore from rushing flesh things and Amwella is still bleeding from the Curse’s settled bite. All I can murmur is a soft. “S– sorry.”

“Beloved.” Tretion murmurs, pulling my gaze to face hers. “You Promised me.”

I go stiff. “B– but…”

“Promised THEM!” She is nearly shaking in rage. “Our Children. In song even!!!”

And I see them then. Our Jellyfish moving to snuggle me are… are wailing and crying and… and… and so very worried.

“B– but… N– not g- going b- back.” I whisper. “Un– undr– dreka w– wasn’t… c– couldn’t h– hurt me.”

Our Watcher winces and wants so much to shout but… settles. Eyes glance up to Awnya for softer explanations.

“Girl… Those things she said… even if she couldn’t strike at you physically… She… Dreamer’s Tits do you really not see how you broke that Promise Song? How that Reaver’s words hurt you? How dangerous they were? And that’s all without the curse's sting!”

I stop. Think about that for a few long moments. Nibble at the melody and swirl of notes and emotions and memories and… and…

Better in danger with our family, then alone.

Always.

“Oh…” I whimper as I feel their words strike true.

Undreka’s words hurt me so much. Could have shattered me. Only didn’t because of my ability to read her and the Curse burning hotter the more I understood her pain. And… and I was alone to hurt because… because…

Hunting alone is just… easier.

I’m sobbing then, wailing apologies in song and word and messy embraces. It helps them settle. Showing them that… that while I’m stupid and broken I… I’m willing to try and do better.

For them and myself.

My Beloveds sigh in relief, but only hug me tighter. Showing me in every way that… that this just scared them. Almost more than the spirits from the mantle. Because they… they couldn’t stop me. I didn’t think to ask them for help or… or hesitate. Just… threw myself into getting hurt again.

And… At some point Raska moves to stand. To leave. Core of her blazing soul thrumming in… things. Guilt and worry and affections she doesn't think she deserves to feel.

Things I hate to see in her.

So I’m scrambling over to snatch up her wrist. Meet her gaze.

Everyone freezes.

“S- sorry. A- and... Th– thank. You.” I murmur. “Pl– pl– please st– stay?”

Raska’s everything wibbles in hope and flutters in messy affections and worry at that. But she nods. Rasps while resettling to sit. “Alright. Y– yeah.”

I bite my lower lip, hard. But also manage to ask, “H– hug?”

Her everything goes still at stone. But... wordlessly she nods, and lets me pull her into a careful embrace while I keep a mess of tendrils back around my Tretion and Awnya.

Old memories flash. Of… of her shouting and the fire and… and that makes the burns itch a bit. I shiver and can’t help but let out some odd little sound. It scares her. Immediately Raska is beginning to untangle herself. But…

I hug her tighter. Fight to settle myself. Mush down the memories and focus on… on other things.

Like her smell.

Dreamer’s Tits she always smelled so neat. Like a fire at the end of its blaze, but mixed in with her special girlish musk. All sooty and warm and just… makes me want to snuggle closer!

She hesitates, then returns to the hug again. Wrapping me tighter than before. Still gentle, and spark eyes dancing up and over me to my Beloveds to make sure this is okay.

But watching us seems to settle them, and it’s a while before we move our little mess into a more comfortable place.