CW:

Pretty... clean chappy? Mostly worry over returning to abuser. And self-deprecating thoughts. Nice hugs from nice Watchers!

“There is something… I want very much to ask of you.” Our brilliant Watcher murmurs as we stand before the outer Gateway of this wonderful manor. Wiggling head noodles all anxiously wrapping about me and constantly tightening their hold.

After about a week of planning and talking and charting out all sorts of things… It's finally the day for the first steps. Each of us is wrapped in warm traveling clothes, and carrying a little pack on our back full of food and supplies. Everything and more we might need in case things go sideways, as our Fae puts it.

And on the final day I’ve watched as such terror has taken root and begun to grow in our Tretion. At first I thought it was just… worry over outside things. And that’s tangled into her, but… no. Awnya and Raska are holding back to let her do this with me.

Ask this question that terrifies her more than anything else in the Dream.

“What?” I whisper and squeeze the hand I’ve been holding since we started walking here. Letting the softer pitch help the words come out more easily.

“Every single part of me screams that I should do it.” She continues. “When Awnya first brought you back to me I… I was planning on keeping this manor sealed for decades. Longer even. Her little trip out was already unplanned and dangerous and almost… almost cost us her. Because as much as this manor has blossomed into an amazing community I never expected to enjoy… she was my everything before you were returned to me.”

I nibble on my lower lip, anxious wribbles threatening to bubble up but… only lean into her. Nuzzle my Watcher and the Jellyfish snoozing within our souls while radiating my love for her. Wanting to let her talk through these thoughts.

“Nelops… We’ll always adore one another. But our love is a thing cultivated from such trauma, my Beloved. Her gaining over a dozen new lovers is everything she needs to heal. Whereas Awnya… She was everything I needed. I always just assumed from that first time I witnessed you both embrace that I was simply smitten by a genuinely kind woman. But… no. We melted together so easily when we found each other later.”

It’s so easy to see, and wonderful to watch. How much my beloveds adore each other.

“And we spent years solidifying that. Helping each other grow past our scars. Not just from losing you but… our pasts. Myself more than her, thank the Bane.” She sighs and turns to smile down at me. “But then we found out you were alive, and I got to see her before she set off to bring you back to us. I could not follow her, so I demanded she weave a Promise in Song for me.”

I glance up to let her see my confusion. “A– about what?”

Tretion pulls us to sit on the soft carpets. Still holding my hand, but wanting to fully face me. “That she wouldn’t sacrifice herself. Not even for you. That she would return to me no matter what.”

That halts all other thoughts. Jerks me to still like nothing else has ever done.

She… That makes sense. Right? Because Awnya's... she's amazing. So much more than me and... and I'd want her to not risk her happiness for me.

But... Then why does that hurt so much to hear?

“Do you understand, my Beloved?” She whispers as she takes in my twisted expression of rising pain. “That it was not a demand that lays either of you above the other in my heart? Our Awnya is clever and quick, but I needed her to be thoughtful and patient. Willing to pull away if you were lost. Or return to me so we might scheme ways to save you should you be beyond her abilities. I only asked that she do as she had done with even the most tormented soul and understand that her end would leave future ones without a savior?”

I nod carefully. Thoughts wrapping about her words but… like some big fruit unable to fully shove the thing inside. Especially with the messy emotions dribbling. It’s all just… too much to consider at once. Hurts to try. So instead I smush down all the muck of emotions and listen carefully to her next words.

“And so now, I would ask you to do the same. To Promise me, in any way you can, that you will return to us. No matter what.” She whispers, taking up both my hands. “You’re more able to break promises than her, but… I wanted you to do this. For Awnya. For our children. And… and most selfishly of all, for me. I cannot survive your death again. Will not. I would chase you to the edges of the Dream and beyond to have you back safe in my arms.”

She almost growls those last words. Amwella and head tendrils wiggling in such determined fury. Not at me but… at the memories. Of what it was like after she woke up to find me gone.

“We will see many slaves in wretched situations, possibly about to die without our intervention. You need to ignore their suffering unless our schemes envelope them. Even a single step beyond is a risk that could lead to hundreds others being left behind.” She explains. “But… I’m not truly worried that you will chase after them. My worries are for another woman you wish to seek out.”

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I wince and want to look down, stop staring into those eyes that sing of her furious love and anger at the idea that… that I might return to…

“I want to ask, no, demand that you give myself, Awnya and our children a Promise.” She continues, Amwella aflame at these words. “That you will not speak to, seek out, or otherwise try to communicate with Thendra or her Reavers unless both Beloveds are at your side. And if she appears, you will do everything you can to leave and return here with our children.”

I bite my lower lip so hard it bleeds as the shard embedded deep within my soul feels so heavy.

The one that lets that dark goddess read my every thought and emotion. A betrayal at the core of everything I am just… left to fester.

I open my mouth though, ready to give Tretion my everything. No matter what I have to tear free of my soul to do that.

But as the first sounds begin to leave my lips, a finger so gently reaches up to touch my lips, stopping me.

“But… I’m not going to do that.” She whispers, and I jerk up to meet her wonderfully loving gaze. “Because I need you to know that I… I trust you, more than anyone save our Beloved Bound, to make the best choices you can. For us, for our children, and most importantly still... for yourself.”

I want to scream. Spill out all my shame and pain and sorrows but… Tretion softly adjusts to cup my cheek. And through cool scaled skin and glowing tendril gripped soul, I feel her words crystalize and hum. A soundless song that thrums for me. Proud and loving and… and so very adoring of my everything.

“Just… keep to the Promises you’ve already made to us. Please?” Tears begin to dribble down her cheeks as those words leave her. “Don’t face the dangers we’ll find beyond these walls alone. Don’t let yourself come to believe that you deserve agony and abuse. All the other things I would attempt to demand of you are… they’re important, but not so much as that. Can you do this for me?”

I lean into her touch and nod, my own tears already falling as I whisper clearly but so quietly it's amazing that she hears me. “Yes, Beloved.”

“I’m so very amazed and proud and… and delighted by you. And our lives are sparked anew by your return and growth. Your search for happiness is something I never want to stop being able to witness.” She blubbers, then pulls me forward to press lips to mine, then fully into her arms when the kiss ends. Wrapping everything she can about flesh and soul and Jellyfish.

Letting us weep before eventually calling our Awnya and Raska back to begin our first steps outside this wonderful home.

** ** **

Our Fae beats her knuckles against the door in a silly rhythmic pattern, smirks over her shoulder to us, then turns back to wait. Humming a little melody of greeting and joy and excitement while very nearly bouncing on her heels.

We decided to let Awnya handle our first Riftwalk from the manor. Mine apparently smells weird and she’d wanted to avoid problems. Because like… we had to make sure everything was okay. Mostly with our Jellyfish. Which… I mean of course they’re fine. Snuggling closer, sure, they definitely need our warmth when outside the manor. But the worst that’ll happen is they’ll wiggle back into our beloved ocean, and I’d go get them.

A call from inside, and I can’t help but snuggle closer into my Tretion’s side.

Then the door opens, and the big silhouette of Tretion’s cousin Getrik fills it.

“Awnya!” She calls out almost instantly, then is sweeping forward to pull our Fae into such a hug of arms and head noodles. Even spinning her about in a circle before plopping Awnya down and chuckling out half dozen questions in a single big breath. “What brings you out to my woods so early, you weren’t due to visit till at least the start of the colder weather of this place. How have you…”

But she trails off, eyes suddenly finding Tretion.

“C– cousin?” She exclaims.

Awnya had brought Getrik to visit a few times, they’d told me. Since Tretion couldn’t leave and our Watcher needed the kind embrace of family amidst her mourning.

“Hello Getrik.” Tretion grins back, “I finally cracked the problem and decided yours was the first place I’d like to visit.”

Her cousin is stammering something while moving past Awnya. Obviously about to pull Tretion into the biggest hug in the Dream but… then her eyes flicker down to me.

And she freezes.

“H– hi.” I manage to stammer out.

“Lyra?” She whispers, all eyes taking in my form and scars. Continues her movements toward us but… slowly. Carefully. Almost like she can see the scary parts of me my lovers refuse to be worried about and…

“Yes, dear cousin.” Our Watcher replies, and I can feel the suddenly barely restrained tears and sobs. “She… she’s alive. Awnya found her and brought her home.”

D– does… Oh no. Getrik’s Amwella is bubbling in such oddly scary ways and twisting worse and… and what if she hates me for killing my Tretion and how messed up I am and–

But now she’s kneeling before me now, whispering very softly. “I… I only got to meet you once, Beloved to my most treasured family. But I would very much like to hug you both… if that is okay?”

Oh. Look past to Awnya. Who is leaning against the open door frame and smiling gently. A quirked eyebrow in both support but… also encouragement.

“O– oke.” I whisper, fighting to restrain the shivering terror that’s still bubbling inside.

And the hug Getrick gives us is nothing like the one she gave Awnya. It’s a slow embrace that very gently envelopes. Careful and… Oh.

Then she’s crying too, and I can’t help but wrap my free arm and a tendril about her big soft frame and Amwella and nuzzle back. Able to read This big Watcher’s soul so much easier now.

How she gurgles and bubbles with like… nothing but joy but also relief and shedding pain and…

“Thank you, Lyra.” Getrik whispers. “For returning to my dearest family member. She… this… I… I’m not sure how to express just how much of a delight this is.”

“A lot has happened, cousin.” Tretion replies as Getrik trails off, hugging her back so tightly. “We’d love to be pulled into sharing a meal and gifting you the tale?”

“Yes, please. I’d very much like the opportunity to play the host to my family.” She pulls back, nodding and wiping at her face eyes and noodle eyes. Then her gaze finds the girl behind us. “And… Who is this?”

“Name's Raska.” Our Everflame replies with what I can feel is a smirk.

“She is both a duenna to me, and a very dear friend.” Tretion supplies. “If… if you would, I’d ask that you treat her as you would our found family?”

Our Everflame hides it well, but I can feel the flutter of joy in her core at Tretion introducing her like that.

“Of course.” Getrik agrees easily. “But where are my manners? Dear friend to this favorite cousin, My name is Getrik. Watcher and woman of some.”