Content Warning:

broken body and healing

physically restraining

Fear of mutalation through biting and regrowing through healing as torture.

As I hum a low healing tune, work to build a melody best to begin the painful work, I open crusty eyes to Thendra leaning over the bed in front of us. Bulderii still holds me… but… she’s leaning back. Letting Thendra run fingers through my hair and grip my maimed hand.

“Lyra.” Thendra purrs, not… angry. But… careful. A warning is easy to read in her tone.

I can’t reply, so I just stare at her with worry and bleary desire and… fear at her unspoken questions. She helps pull me to sit up, takes my hand from Bulderii and offers me a drink from a waterskin.

I nod.

She commands an end to my song, and I drink greedily, even empty the huge thing.

Only whisper as I lay it aside and wipe my lips. “Is… Is she safe?”

A low growl of warning leaves Thendra’s chest, fingers… don’t tighten around my wrist. But go stiff. “Is that why you tried to sing without my command?”

I jerk up to meet her jade eyes. “Wh- What? I didn’t!”

Thendra studies me. A sudden anxious fear of her using my Lament to sting and torment me starts to bubble, especially now when I’m in so much pain, jerks me into full wakefulness. My mind shows me a nightmare of her biting off parts of me just to… to force me to regrow them. Over and over and over. Oh Dreamer’s Tits please no no no no!

I jerk around to glare up at Bulderii. “Why are you lying to her? Do… Do you want me dead or–”

Thendra snatches my chin and yanks me around to face her. “I sensed your song.”

“I… I don’t– She’s…” I stammer and shake my head fiercely. “She just… suddenly got mad and shoved her big stupid hand down my throat.” I wiggle my restrained talon. “Broke something else too. I don’t even know why!”

A long pause passes as Thendra studies my face, bores jade eyes into me. Not exactly anger. But… annoyed confusion is what seems to settle on her. Then she looks past me, to Bulderii.

I feel her shrug. “She did some kind of magic. Hundat would have been the woman to ask. She followed you into the wastes as Lyra was trained. Would know what to look for.”

Thendra looks back to me. “What did you do, little Fae?”

“Nothing!” I shout, dig talons into her wrist in sudden anger at all the ways she could have killed Awnya. “Just… tell me that you didn’t hurt–”

She growls in a flash of anger, real and hot enough to make me flinch. I would have jerked back as if slapped if her fingers weren’t digging into flesh and holding me in place. So instead I just… stop. Thoughts end as this little nest of warmth I sit in snaps into clarity. Reminding me that I am surrounded and restrained by two very dangerous predators.

“You’re… you’re right…” I stammer, carefully release her wrist and lower my hand. “I’m sorry. I… I’m just… I didn’t mean…”

She just gores into me with her jade eyes, so I keep going.

“I did not sing. I don’t know what Bulderii is talking about. Why she… she got angry and afraid.” I take a deep breath. “My… my core would… my Amwella can’t handle that. The curse’s bite.”

Thendra’s grip loosens, but her anger remains. And I see what it really is. Fear. Fear at… I don’t know. She could tear me to shreds before I could ever even hope to kill or curse her with a song so I have no idea what she could be afraid of!!!

“I’m sorry.” I whisper instead. “I wish I could tell you more, but… I’m so tired and useless right now. I… And I’m so scared that you hurt or… or ki–”

“She didn’t.” Comes a wonderful voice.

My eyes just make out the edge of her amazing blaze of hair past Thendra’s looming shape.

“Awnya–” I begin to whisper as a wash of relief drains a mountain of tension and worry.

Bulderii shifts, quick and without even causing me to do more than sink deeper into soft quilts, and is beside the bed. Thendra growls, but does not release me or turn.

I watch as Awnya shrugs and leans against the doorframe. “Heard shouting. Got bored and curious. Worried and such for my gracious host.”

There is a pause. Thendra’s eyes remain locked on me. I jerk mine back to meet hers.

“Please.” I mouth to her soundlessly.

She doesn’t nod. But I do see her anger cool.

“Then you have seen that both my Fae and I are safe and well.” She doesn’t shift. “You can leave.”

“Barely…” Awnya smirks. But it doesn’t reach her eyes. “Half of half of that… at most.”

That does make Thendra turn, slowly. But still, she does not release me.

Awnya sighs. “We literally just went over this, big girl.”

“You will not dictate how I handle–”

“What is yours, yes.” Awnya bristles, even the hint of the smile gone. “But, Dreamer’s Tits, this really isn’t how you want to die.”

That makes Thendra pause.

“We could literally feel the Dream stir, from, like… downstairs. She’s supposed to be resting, healing. Not….” She waves at Thendra's hand with real scorn, “Whatever this is.”

If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.

“What?” I nearly yelp, cold fear that Awnya’s words will… will make Thendra want to hurt me. “But… But I didn’t do anything!”

“From the looks of things. You were probably a little… distracted by…” Awnya glances over to Bulderii. “Was it this one? Was she the dumb forest goose nibbling at the bear’s butt?”

Bulderii doesn’t respond, but we can all see her fists tighten.

“Fae.” Thendra growls, does release my chin then. “My Reaver would not harm her without cause.”

“Without…. Cause?” Awnya tilts her head. “What does that even mean? How… easily could Lyra give you or yours cause to hurt her?”

A long pause. Awnya’s expression shifts to a full on glare.

“Huh… Guess Usete wasn’t wrong.” She murmurs, then pushes off the wall to stand straight. “This really is as terrible as it could be.”

No. No no no no. Stop it. Don’t–

Thendra moves to stand. Steady thrum of Amwella focus crackles to life before popping into place just as she needs to place weight on her leg.

“We Fae don’t respect slavers.” Awnya whispers, fingers moving to touch the hilt of the blade on her hip. “And I’m starting to get the feeling that Usete was spot on with their–”

“STOP!” I shout. Jerking everyone in the room to pause, and at least glance my way.

“Lyra?” Awnya asks, surprise tinting her glare.

I huff. Look up to Thendra who still holds my blackened and unfinished maimed hand. Notice a… a strange expression in her eyes. I can’t hesitate. Can’t let fear stop me from trying to end this before either of these two kill each other.

So I use Thendra’s grip on me to stand on wobbly legs atop the bed. Even with the extra height I just barely reach eye level with her. I move up, reach across Threnda and very gently prompt her to face me. She resists, but… something in my expression makes her drift just close enough.

Even… even if I have to hurt one to save them both.

“Awnya.” I force anger and lust and annoyance through the words, “You’re barely half right.”

“Hey maybe we should–” She starts, but I’m already pulling Thendra into a long and hungry kiss. Letting my own unsteady exhaustion force me to lean into her warmth and solid strength.

It takes her a second, but then she releases my hand and is hooking an arm around my waist, traps me against her even when I start to pull back. Almost sinks teeth into my bottom lip in return. My dark goddess drowns me in spice and hunger that sends warmth through me, even in this wretched state. But… eventually I’m pressing against her chest. Signaling I need air and… and to finish my betrayal.

She doesn’t let me go, but allows me to pull back. Take in a few deep breaths. A long pause settles, I only let myself see Awnya from the corner of my eye.

“I’ve given myself to her. Maybe… maybe I am a…” I spit out the words with vile misplaced anger, “But I chose her. Came back to her. Will keep coming back.”

“Lyra… you… That curse isn’t really giving you a choice.”

I turn, plan to glare at her, but… Dreamer’s Tits her expression is not what I expected. I wanted, needed, anger or hatred or… or something darker. Not… not this! Not that cocky smile with concerned eyes.

It kills my next words. Chokes the things that could save her in my throat.

Thendra saves me with a purring laugh. “Ah… I thought I recognized your smell. Awnya of the Fae.”

Her eyes move to Thendra, “Oh?”

Thendra’s chuckle is horrible and cruel. A sick thing that revels in the pain I’ve started, and how I’ve now allowed her now to finish the work. “You’ve fed upon my Lyra, drank of her Amwella.” She purrs. “Now you seek a second taste?”

Awnya flinches back, as if struck by one of Thendra’s fists instead of her words. “What? That’s not–”

“Awnya. I…” It’s a perfect way to channel this hatred and self loathing into words that will sever her from ever wanting me again. Ever wanting to even look at me. “I’m sorry if I made you think it was anything more. But… I… I don’t want to… I–”

Oh Dreamer’s Tits I’m so bad at lying. Especially when it’s to hurt this amazing warm soul of such love and life and–

“Alright.” She cuts me off. Brittle cocky grin settling across her face. “Seems I overstepped.” She turns to Thendra, gives her a stiff nod. “Apologies. I misunderstood your… arrangements.”

“I will not pretend that my Reavers and I do not have a reputation.” She replies, nearly thrumming with a joy I haven't seen since we first met. “But, you're correct about one thing though, Awnya of the Fae.”

That surprises both of us, makes me jerk back to see her jade eyes.

“Lyra is struggling.” She draws up my maimed and horrid hand. “If you could add your songs to hers, it’ll greatly increase the speed in which she can recover. The healing gained over these past fifteen hours has been… lacking.”

Fifteen hours!?! I… It felt like… well not less time but… My Amwella really hasn’t healed like it should. But I need Awnya to leave. Not stick around and–

“Of course.” She sighs, “That’s… That’s why I’m here. To help her. Always. ”

I… Oh Awnya. No! Just… leave me. Don’t waste your time here! Not... not on me! I'm... I'm just... too broken and...

Thendra purrs, moves us to sit on the bed. Pulls me into her lap as the Amwella at her leg dissipates. “Bulderii, bring Lyra a meal.”

The Reaver hesitates, but nods and leaves.

“Please,” Thendra motions to the bed. “Come assist in the healing songs.”

Awnya pauses, eyes the big bed with… something. But nods and approaches. Hops up and sits cross legged in front of me. Thendra takes my maimed hand, gently forces me to hold it out to her. Awnya shifts, glances down at the hand, winces.

“We… I’m going to start by taking a look at her Amwella.” She says while taking the hand.

I nearly panic. The thoughts of her… of having to peer into her soul while she looks into mine. Of… Of letting her see just how much of what I said was–

“No.” I whisper. Harshness melting over my words, hopefully disguising my panic.

“Hm? Why not?” Her eyes dart up, consider my words while warm gentle fingers clasp and rub the horrid nubs.

“I…” I can’t meet her gaze, just… glare down. “Just… only the basic shape of it. Don’t go deeper.”

A long pause.

“Okay.” Awnya murmurs. “We’ll keep it surface level. I just need to see what kind of damage might have been done.”

I nod, and her eyes sparkle with Amwella sight. Almost immediately they go wide, and her easy smile is suddenly so brittle it seems a simple tap would shatter her. I swear I see… see such pain and horror.

“Dreamer’s Cunt!” Awnya sputters, looks away without ending the sight. “Her songs aren't the problem.” She squeezes her eyes shut, “Give me a second. Need to… Need to sing something to–”

Then she’s whistling something, weaving a lilting little tune of calm and healing. Thendra had begun to go very still when Awnya started, but at the end she seems to calm. I… I’ve never seen such a… such a look of pain and anguish in Awnya's eyes.

I sigh, ashamed. I know how bad my soul is. Have seen the torn up and sad shape I’ve left it in. And understand that her tune was one of self-calm. A… a song to settle her mind and help her think a little better.

“Sorry.” I whisper.

“Lyra,” She ignores the questions, “What did this? How did it get like… that?”

“I messed up.” I murmur, “I needed to lay a Lament on the Matron. But I… she… she stopped me before I could finish. And I held on to the curse. Then I had to sing another while also weaving a song of hiding to get to her.”

“Alright.” She nods, takes a breath. “Yeah, that would definitely cause some of that. Anything else? Did the curse sting you much?”

I wince, then nod. Avoid telling her about the night be–

“I also carved away at her Amwella the night before.” Thendra purrs.

There is a long pause. Awnya’s hands go still on my knuckles while her eyes move to the woman behind me.

“Why?” Her voice is sharp, angry.

“I let her.” I add quickly, “Asked her to… to…”

To cut all the little parts of you from my soul.

“It was precise.” Thendra purrs, hand trails up my neck and into my hair. Totally unbothered by Awnya’s anger and accusing eyes. “But… upon reflection it was probably unwise. She wasn’t entirely healed by morning, and the strain of the conflict probably caused more damage.”

Awnya lets out an angry sigh, looks past me. “She needs Fae who know how to heal Amwella.”

Thendra just… rumbles. A warning that rolls through her chest, up the arm, and quivers the nails that brush my scalp.

Really obvious conflict plays across Awnya’s face as she switches her eyes back to mine. “Lyra, how did you get back? To Theradas I mean.”

The question startles me, takes a second to become clear. “I… I Riftwalked.”

Awnya looks back to Thendra, while gesturing to me. “She can come back whenever she wants.”

The rumbling intensifies, “Another Fae stole her away for weeks, and when she returned it was not... healed. Only… distracted.”

Awnya begins to speak.

I reach out and take her hand in my good one, “I need Thendra to heal myself. And… and I don’t want some Fae elder to try and…and fix me. Awnya, I still don’t trust them. Only trust Usete because they sang me a promise song.”

“How about me?” She takes my other hand. Cocky bright smirk touches the corner of her lips. Hopeful and… and a little… well not desperate, but something akin to it.

I almost blurt out; Yes, always!

But pause and try to hide my thoughts instead… Fail as a lie dies on my tongue at first. But, I force myself to close my eyes and shake my head. “Please do it here.”

Pain has touched her eyes when I open mine to look at her again, then… a single nod followed by a confident shrug.

“Okay. I’ll weave a harmony to your song.” Then she looks to Thendra. “Have her stop the second I do.”

She does, and we spend hours and hours dragging my Fae flesh back into its proper shapes.