Content Warning:

-Suicide ideation

“Thendra!” Voe calls out and moves to intercept us as we enter the Matron’s estate. “Welcome!”

Zitra trails behind, all eyes casually passing over our group. Both wear armor. Glistening black chitin with embellishments of eyes and writhing… things… worked throughout the magnificent pieces. Voe has her short blade holstered, while Zitra simply carries a sort of short cane wrought from a deep purplish wood.

All of Thendra’s Reavers trail behind us.

“How’d your eh… preparations go?” She spreads her arms and observes my tall dark skinned mistress. Only spares a few eyes for the rest of the group, settles the rest on me.

“Very very well!” Thendra purrs, “Thanks to the research your library provided, we’re more prepared than even your Matron could have hoped.”

I stare straight forward, only occasionally letting my eyes settle on any one person or thing. Waiting for a command, ready to act without thought. Voe and Zitra, three servants. Fourteen passages. Will be heading down number 9 into a deep large chamber unless there is a last minute change.

Zitra’s face eyes focus on me. She pauses. I barely feel the smothering pressure of her gaze.

“I’m glad to hear it.” Voe's voice drops low, she steps a smidge closer. I let my focus drift to her. “Honestly, grandmama is still a little… annoyed the entire affair. But if you bring good news after all that happened…”

Voe’s face eyes finally drift to me, and I let annoyance reinforce me as I am under the weight of two of the Matron’s kin. Their focus could… hamper my songs, but not enough that I couldn’t weave something nasty to inflict on them. I let a twitch tweak the edge of my lips as our eyes meet. One of Voe’s eyestalks pull back from me, Zitra remains static and controlled. But… I swear I notice her grip that stick just a little tighter.

“Lyra will prove to be more valuable than Undreka.” Thendra places a hand on my head, I resist the urge to just… lean into it.

Time for that later, focus!

“Really?” Voe’s face eyes slide back up to Thendra, “In… such a short amount of time?”

Thendra just purrs through a chuckle, then asks. “Are you here to escort us to the gathering? Or should we wait for another?”

Voe sighs dramatically. “Of course I am! Do you think I’d enjoy trying to entertain any of the other absolute bores involved in this?”

She and Zitra turn, and we are led down a long wide passage. Amidst Voe’s bleating attempts at conversation, Thendra glances down at me and quirks an eyebrow in silent question. Any trouble with two of the Matron’s kin gazes upon you? I let myself smile, give a slight turn of my head. Barely a shake. No.

She’d spent the past two weeks training me for this. It felt like so much longer since I’d just… accepted what I was. Embraced that I was happier as a slave than I ever was free.

Thendra, 4 Reavers, and myself had ventured through some old deep tunnels out into the desert. Camped in a cavern system between two ravines. There, we had begun to test the limits of my songs.

I'd wept, vomited, and sweat blood. But after three days I could call upon them without flinching or hesitating. It had been hard, especially at first, but Thendra was good at spotting old habits and forcing me to break them. She was also a very good teacher.

I learned that the desert is… just kind of a forest. With tons of life hiding just outside of view. Thendra let me spend hours between resting to sing and commune with the strange little bugs, weird spiky plants, and twelve headed snake things that rolled through the tunnels. They all shared such interesting songs with me. I was sad to sing my goodbyes when the time came to leave. I begged Thendra to take me back someday, and while she didn’t promise anything, I think she’s just wanting to surprise me when the venture is done.

It wasn’t until that last night within the caverns I had the courage to tell Thendra the bad news though.

“I think those words are killing me.” I hum, a single hand splayed across her chest as my legs curl around the side of her head, toes enjoying the cold stonewall of the cavern. She’d just finished holding me above her face while she laid back. Spent an hour just… slowly teasing little shuttering things out of me while nibbling on my Amwella. The black tinting at the tips of my fingers is just beginning to pass the end of the nails. They… they don’t hurt. Are just a little numb.

I wasn’t afraid of death, I just… didn’t want to disappoint her. But… she needs to know. I’m hers after all.

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Thendra makes a rumbling noise, meets my eyes.

I shrug, tracing my finger over her skin, “Just… feels like death. Those words are… Most Fae don’t sing those things I think. Don’t train to use them the way you want me to.”

No reply. She seems… unconcerned? Or is she just considering it? Did she already think this might happen?

That drains any worry about it away.

“Just wanted to make sure you knew.” I move to snuggle closer, place kisses on her belly before yawning without any worry inside or out.

Just so long as I’m hers, I don’t care when I die. Although… her offer to die during sex and song does sound so perfect.

We leave the long hallway, and enter a big chamber with about ten people milling about, with about half that number of servants carrying trays of food and drink to the various guests.

All heads and most eyestalks turn to us as we enter. Our group almost doubles the number of people. I begin to catalog little details Thendra might use to call out targets. Matron, four of her kin including Zitra and Voe. Seven distinct individuals, armed with either sword or staff. As we move forward, Voe and Zitra pull ahead.

“Greetings all!” Voe calls out, “I know most everyone here has met everyone else, but in case you’ve forgotten or ignored, This is Thendra, and her Reavers.”

There is a pause, nods of acknowledgements, some turn back to prior conversations. A few move to approach.

The first is a short woman, long twisting horns covering one side of her face and head. She’s wearing heavy dull iron armor and shoulders a long bladed…. Thing.

“Bulderii!” She rumbles, voice rough and coarse.

Bow woman, who I discovered was named Bulderii, glances over to Thendra. Once she nods, Bulderii answers the call with a smile and heads over to clasp hands and speak. A few others Reavers follow, five disperse and head toward the larger group.

The second moves slower, and stops to greet Voe and Zitra, but… doesn’t take their dull cerulean eyes off me.

I ignore them at first, simply keep them cataloged. There is no weight under it, and they bear no obvious weapons. Wearing a simple red tunic with a black sash. Hair is a rough and dirty brown, skin on the paler side. A few petty jewels on their ears and nose. A perfect balance between subtle masculine and feminine traits.

“Have you met Thendra, Adonie?” Voe asks as she leads them to the group.

They flick a glance to Thendra, giving her a polite nod. “Only once, and it was in passing.”

“Hmm…” Thendra purrs, “Was it during that business with Yeklan?”

“No, but where is of little import.” Their face remains impassive, but their eyes seem to burn with something… some emotion I’m not…

“You tried to have me skewered.”

Eyes are back on me. I meet them to find… anger? ...Why?

"It must not have been since I don’t remember a contract or quota going unfulfilled.” Thendra laughs. “I’ll not apologize!"

Do they hate Fae? What I am is probably no secret among this group.

“It wasn’t, I was just passing through at a bad moment. No harm came to me.”

“Ah, you saw my Reavers at their worst then.” Thendra’s voice betrays no anger, “But I can’t help but notice your… disinterest in my words.”

That shocks them from what had become a very obvious focus on me.

“Quite right.” They tear their eyes from me and give Thendra a polite bow. “My apologies, I just didn’t expect anyone but the Matron to bring a…um…”

They avoid the word. Slave.

My light attire makes it obvious. I wear them with pride, with every motion and warm breeze I am reminded of my role. And the pleasure it brings me. But… they cared nothing for my body. Have eyes only for my face. Subtle anger… at me. Specifically. Some at Thendra now.

“Oh, she’s… of no importance to the overall goal.” Voe supplies. “Just… a tool to fill a role found lacking by recent unfortunate circumstances.”

Voe’s comment doesn’t bother me. But this person’s eyes… I know them. But from where?

“Consider my curiosity peaked.” Their eyes dart to me again, just for a split second.

“You take interest in my little Fae.” Thendra purrs, eyes Voe. “You’d not be the first, probably won’t be the last.”

Adonie's lips purse, ever so slightly. I try to turn my attention back to the room while my mind tries to place how I know them. From my time with humans? No… Someone I saw in the few outings I’ve had with Thendra? No, none have made enough of an impression to quirk my memories here.

“A Fae?” They don’t seem surprised. “Bound to you? Where did you find such a... rare opportunity?”

Thendra grins, places a hand on my head. “It’s not a tale I believe could be told in the short time before the Matron finishes that drink of hers and begins.”

They glance back over their shoulder to see the group gathering as the Matron heads toward the center of the room. “Quite… Perhaps I could get the story once this is all done? At least the short of it?”

Thendra tilts her head, “What interest is my Lyra to you? She is not for sale.”

They turn, and walk with Thendra as we join the larger gathering. But I swear I see a tightening of their neck muscles at her words. Something... something there seems to have solidified their anger.

They shrug, fail at nonchalance. “Fae are an interest in some studies of mine.”

Thendra just rumbles a purr of consideration at their words. “What are those?”

“Archaeology, but… only the most ancient. Including Fae, but mostly Rorliras. It’s why the Matron contacted me so late in her plans. Wanted an expert on the site to verify certain maps and markers. Rorliras tunnels can be very tricky to navigate as they weave between rifts.”

“Then her location will be of little use to your studies,” Thendra chuckles, “She was barely raised by the Fae. Abandoned only a few weeks after her change.”

That still stings, but Thendra’s casual words combined with my own focus on the gathering threats dulls it.

“Ah…” They purse their lips, allowing the anger of their eyes to melt down over the rest of their face as annoyance. “Shame.”

The Matron speaks up, welcomes all the guests and eventually begins to go over plans everyone here should already know. A large wheeled table is carted in. Stacked with maps and books and various other things I don’t even begin to care about. And then the group gathers around and begins combing over a meticulous plan to enter and raid some place. A few questions or remarks are added. I don’t follow along. Thendra handles these things. But… Adonie keeps glancing over at me every few minutes. Thendra told them how useless my past is to them, so why are they still so focused on me? Why is that anger–

“Adonie?” The Matron directs at them. “Can you verify this juncture here is correct?”

Without even looking back, Adonie gives a slightly exasperated reply. “Yes, you can tell you have the path correct by the third…”

I ignore the rest as their suddenly very slight shift in tone taps at something in my memories. The… flow of it. It had a subtle melody there. Almost a slight rhythm that would convey–

“Wonderful! Thank you Adonie.” And she means it. Earlier annoyance and anticipation seem to have melted into a satisfied confidence at their words.

Fae-Song? Did… did they just sing?