CW:

Cold. Anxiety, um... talk of curses and scars and meeting lost family and mupples. Not really that much! Woops! Awnya POV chappy! Woops!

“Dreamer’s Tits.” I huff, and hum more heat into the winds around me. Both to turn away the onslaught of horrid chill, but also to bring the cocoon of space around me to more comfortable warmth.

Like before, my trip through the mountains of the Morning Court is a miserable flight. Easier than before, but still riven with cold I really really hate. But… My songs seem to thrum with more excess melodies than before. Things imbued with the love Lyra’s Amwella seems to share with me every time we mingle soulfire.

Can’t help but smile at the memory. Turn the warm muses and anticipations of being back with my lovers into my humming chirps.

Very nearly feel them at my side with how strong the recollection is. Basking in the memories of our final snuggles and lovemaking and goodbyes as I leap from my branch and continue my bounding flight.

The Fae Wood of Sunrise, the Morning Court, is the most empty of the three of my kind. The cold often a thing even creatures native to this place enjoy leaving for warmer places. Only the most reclusive and hardy of Fae preferring this chill.

Another day, and another night, and I reach their home.

It’s honestly such a wonderful place. Something I’d only in these past years felt the patience to consider weaving something of it’s like within our manor.

Verdenflure and Quenith have built a warm palace of silken weavings betwixt the tallest trees at this mountain’s side. Spent decades perfecting a type of enchanted spider silk and growing it. Even found ways to like… make the stuff shift and adjust to absorb heat and radiate warmth.

Created an oasis more regal than any other among the Rifts… save our manor, of course.

I land atop a cluster of branches stretching out from one of the trees, feeling the subtle hum ripple through the home.

Alerting her creators that a Fae guest has arrived. Probably… yeah this home recognizes my Amwella. Is probably telling them who’s just ventured out to visit.

So I step forward and brush past the curtain, am immediately sighing at the warmth this place so easily holds.

Within the tree itself is a spiraling set of stairs and platforms that weave down and into other tunnels that lead to other trees and the mountain itself. Either with more of the soft but hardened spider silk or hollowed out tree branches.

And soon a girlthing with multiple limbs and glimmering blue chitin is peeking out one of them to spot me.

“Awnya!?!” She chirps, voice a bit clickie and filled with little song weavings of greetings.

“Heya, Quenith!” I smile down at her. “Hope you don’t mind me popping in.”

She scuttles up the side of the tree and plops down before me, and we share a quick and easy embrace. “Not at all! You’re basically family!”

I can’t help but smile. These two are… honestly amazing. Easy to interact with. They really enjoy settling down and just… mothering the forest around them. Welcoming all manner of wandering creatures into their warm home when they need a break from the chill without. Have actually built a ton of little versions of this place throughout the Morning Court for just that purpose.

“Shouldn’t actually be a long visit.” I pull back. “Just… I’m guessing Yuna and Usete are still here?”

She quirks her head to the side and seems to look me up and down. “Mhm. They are.”

“Perfect.” I sigh in relief. “Was worried I’d have to go searching for them like I did all those years ago.”

“Oh? Is… is something wrong? You seem…” She tip-taps a trio of fingers across the chitin along her collarbone. “Different. Did you mingle your song with another Fae?”

I can’t help but chuckle. “Yeah. You could say that.”

A little pause passes, and I let my smirk let her know that’s all I’m sharing right now.

She huffs and puffs in a way that makes such cute little clicking sounds. “Dreamer’s Tits, I hope you’re not sharing yourself with someone dangerous.”

“Always.” I laugh more and reply without hesitation. “But there is little in the Dream more deadly than a Fae basking in love.”

Quenith can’t help but fix me with such a look, but… my confidence settles her for now as we head through the winding pathways of her home.

My sudden good mood, fostered by warm memories and the comfortable heat of this place falters a bit when we enter what seems to be a home woven specifically for Yuna and Usete.

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It’s quite spread out compared to the rest of the space, brimming with life that seems foreign to these Woods. Almost… tropical in some ways. Bees and other insects flitter about and even a little pond gurgles.

Made to somewhat match the home Yuna gave up to get away from the Fae elders, and… and the memories.

Usete is the first I see. Waded about knee deep in the waters and humming a quiet little song to some big fish-bug things. They seem… a bit better. Amwella no longer rife with as many little holes as the last time I saw them. Skin even seems to have gained back some of the luster it lost in the years after I told them and Yuna what happened to Lyra.

I was so worried they’d seek an unmaking, wish to sing the song to end their place in the Dream.

They don’t turn when we enter but… their song does tilt in curiosity. Not at who enters their little grove but… why.

It’s been years now. And… and when I left this place last I wasn’t quiet about how little I enjoyed the chilled bite of this Wood.

“Hey Usete.” I greet and offer a soft song beneath the words. Nonsense but… normal for Fae to share subtle musing of our souls.

“Awnya.” They turn amidst the waters to greet me, only slow their feeding to the little group of hungry critters. “What brings you so far out into this cold Wood?”

“Need to…” I look about. “Is Yuna closeby? You should both be here for this.”

That brings a furrow to their brow, but they only say. “I’ll call to her.”

I nod and turn to Quenith. “Honestly, we should've grabbed Verdenflure, this’ll be easier to share once, and with the entire family here.”

It takes a bit, and I end up settling on a patch of warm grass with Usete and Quenith to wait. We talk of small things. Their projects and plans for the coming cold seasons, and I speak a little of the community I’ve continued to help grow. Only mention that mine and Tretion’s relationship has done nothing but bloom and blossom into wonderful shapes.

Verdenflure is the first to arrive. All a flutter and scuttle of worry. But… my assurances that I bring nothing but good songs and Quenith’s hugs and a kiss quiets her anxiety.

Like many Fae, these two bear such unique songs.

Apparently Yuna found them curled up together in a flower amidst one of the colder nights upon a quick visit to these woods many many years ago. Two little strange deformed insects who’d managed to survive and find comfort in each other when their clutches abandoned them. She couldn’t help but take such a liking to the pair of bug-loves, and fostered them into becoming Fae. They’ve always been inseparable. Songs a harmonic tune that always seems to echo between them, even when they’re apart.

I’ve always enjoyed watching how easily they sit together. Curled close like… like their parts are just made to weave into the others many limbs.

And then Lyra’s mother arrives.

Yuna is… changed since last I saw her. Taller, for one. Perfect Fae form shifted to wear a good bit more weight and let her hair grow into a tangled mane. Long ears fluffier than before, green scales seeming to be tinted a bit more dully.

“Awnya.” She greets after we share a warm embrace, her face a bit of a mask. “What brings you all the wait out to our cold corner of the Woods?”

I smile as we pull back and she sits to join us on the grove. “Good news actually. But… I’ll need something from all of you first. A promise in song to keep what I’m about to say and ask between us.”

Not… this didn’t stop Usete from betraying her. But… It’s something, at least. Should make them pause before doing anything stupid.

The two girls share a look, and Usete can’t help but purse their lips while Yuna quirks an eyebrow.

“It’s… I know it’s a lot to ask. But–”

“No. It’s fine.” Yuna is the first to speak. “I trust you.”

I twist to face the other three. Usete nods, face a bit pained. “I do as well.”

“Can we at least ask what this is in relation to?” Verdenflure chirps, anxiety already plain and bubbling up.

“It’s not that we don’t trust you but…” Quenith bobs back in forth in agreement. “We’d rather not deal with the prick of that if we can help it.”

I sigh and give them my most reassuring smile. “I’ll say that if you don’t want to, that's fine. But I’ll need to have this conversation in private with those that agree to it.”

They share a long look and a few quick chirps and… huh.

Can’t understand them. Seems… normally my Fae nature makes all languages clear. But not theirs's. Even now after hearing them do this all those years ago. Should ask them how they do it.

“Alright.” Quenith sighs and turns to me. “We trust you too. We’ll do it.”

And so they all weave such a pretty little melody together. One that hopefully will create a sturdy tether that will keep them from breaking this promise.

“Okay! Thank you.” I relax visibly after it's done. “So… I’ll just come out and say it. Lyra’s alive.”

For the grove of a Fae to go quiet is… honestly terrifying. This place is attuned to those that live here. Beats with their heart and pulses with their souls' most subtle songs. Even if the Fae is gone from the Dream their sanctuary will resonate for years to their latent tunes.

And this silence is smothering. Literally feels like the only thing to crack it will be–

“Alive?” Yuna whispers softly. “She… my… my Little Girl she… she came back? When? Where is she!?!”

I move to sit close to her, offer her my hands. “Yeah. Long story but… She’s safe.”

The tears that pour from her eyes are… are such marvelously painful things. The silence of the grove is cracked and shattered by her sobs that twist between old pains and sudden joy.

“She wants to see you.” And I glance over to see Usete songless and still. “Both of you. Is… well… you’ll see. If you want. She wants to clear the Curse of all commands, Usete.”

Their face twists in such pain, fingers twitch and reach forward to wrap around the foot that bears the scar. “I…”

“But… you won’t be able to leave where I’m taking you. Not… not until the Matron of the Rift thinks you trustworthy. We’re kinda devoting everything we are to keep Lyra safe and apart from certain groups.”

I’d not told them of Tretion’s manor. Just… that I’d been helping her heal after what happened. Even managed to keep the knowledge of it from the Fae Elders when I wove them songs of truth about Lyra’s supposed end.

And… in later years it was impossible not to tell Yuna and Usete of my love for her.

Yuna is nodding fiercely through her tears. “Verdenflure and Quenith can see to our grove.”

Usete is just… staring at their wrapped foot. Even their breathing seems to have halted as their mind and probably Amwella writhe in such a whirlwind of old pains.

“Is…” Yuna sort of studders to a halt. Halfway between rising and sitting. “Is her body…?”

Wrong? I easily understand her sudden worry.

“We’re working on that. It’s… complicated.”

She moves then. Rising to begin chirping little songs to her grove and speaking over her shoulder as she flutters about. “I know her Fae song. Can help fix any nonsense and get her back into the right shapes.”

I consider telling her more. That… that Lyra’s body is just where she wants it. No matter how much Tretion and I’ve tried to push her toward trying to reshape herself to remove the scars.

But… no. Let her think the Dream wrapped a horrid old shape around her. Need to keep the details hidden until we’re safe and back in the manor. Then... I dunno. Maybe she has the songs that can convince our lover that she deserves to be free of that pain.

“Wait. The… Our youngest sister.” Verdenflure waves a trio of arms to and fro in a sort of ‘please slow down’ motion. “The one who got sucked into the literal blighted ocean, is alive? Not… not melted or… or…”

Yuna pauses, looks between us. And that old pride from all those years ago blossoms as she speaks the next words. “Lyra originally came from outside the Dream. Bears a soul of Fire that melts Blight.”

The girl’s eyes go wide in both surprise and a little disbelief.

Usete jerks up to stare at their mother. “What.”

Yuna huffs and looks away in shame. “I… She didn’t know. Didn’t remember much from before I brought her home. I kept it a secret to protect her.”

I expect… I don’t know. Anger or fury or… something. But… Usete just… remains impassive. Face a mask.

“I’m so sorry Little Softshell.” Yuna turns back to approach Usete, kneels before them. “I… I couldn’t find it in me to tell her, and… and didn’t want to tell anyone else. Not until Awnya came along and… and Lyra had told her things I didn’t know she remembered. Then everything just… fell apart so quickly and…”

Usete takes a deep breath, but nods. “I… I’m going to need time. Mother. Time and… and space. Once we reach her.”

She nods. “Of course. I just… wanted you to know why I didn’t tell you. Even… even after we thought her gone.”

They reach out to pat her hands, then slowly rise. “Let’s just… take this one step at a time. Please.”

It takes a bit to calm the sisters. Both are just… still confused and humming with a bit of anger for this sister they’ve never met. Have only seen the scars on the mother and beloved sibling, and not the girl who bears whose.

But… Yuna is unrelenting. Tells them more than even I was ready to share. Even… and this seems to crack something in Usete, tells them about what happened with her human parents and how she was killed by them. I stop her before she tells them the why of it.

Lyra should be the one to share that truth with only people she trusts, at least.

And then we’re packed and saying our goodbyes. Ready to travel through the evening and make all possible haste to return to my home as soon as possible.