Hello friends and lovers!!!!

Welcome to Arc 3!

To Break a Blight Weaver

 

CW: Snuggles. Talk of past abuse. and weaving Promise Songs to make sure your trauma cannot pass to your children.

 

“Th– thank y– you.” I manage to murmur to her as I pull back to settle in Awnya’s lap.

 

Everyone pauses.

 

I’d… not talked much. Too hard to try and… honestly not much to add. Even after a few hours of talks about possible Rifts and people and… how to organize a talk with Thendra without the chance of the Fae finding out about it.

 

So of course even a whispered deliberate thing like that catches everyone off guard.

 

I sigh and… hold up the notebook. Glance at Raska. “F– for Th– this.”

 

“I… yeah. Thought… Yeah. You’re very welcome.” Raska says carefully.

 

And I see the odd twisting question within the core of her soul, am letting stammer out before I can stop, “Sm– smells l– like y– you.”

 

“I…” She pauses, soul a mess of confusion and worry.

 

I huff and end up mumbling, “N– not b– bad th– thing. Al– ways l– liked.”

 

A pause, then the Core of her Amwella and Spark are wriggling about in surprise and… and all the good things at that.

 

“Thanks.” She smirks carefully. “Hope it helped you figure things out.”

 

I shake my head, feel my own lip quirk. “N– not r– really. B– but… did in o– other ways.”

 

That makes her tilt herself to the side as her soul nibbles on that. Eventually just… asking “I… huh?”

 

“Um…” I huff. “H– hard t– to Ex– pl– plain.”

 

She nods, slowly and carefully.

 

Then Tretion asks a question about… something into the awkward quiet. Someone or somewhere and… I just can’t follow it. Too lost in trying to untangle my own mess of emotions. Like… like staring at a pit of wriggly nonsense that’s sat still enough for years just… suddenly disturbed. Whatever is beneath isn’t mad just… trying to pull from the muck.

 

That’s how her journal makes me feel. But… well it’s not like I’m going to try to find words for that mess!

 

And so I go quiet again, only really notice I missed a question when Awnya nudges me.

 

“Huh?” I look up and between them. “S– sorry?”

 

“It’s fine, we’re just trying to decide where to hold this meeting.” Tretion supplies. “Theradas is out of the question, if the Fae had ways of watching for Awnya in the Wood there they will likely be watching that manor. Did… can you share some of the places you visited with her? Rifts we could return to for this?”

 

“Um…”

 

I try to describe a few. Stumbling and stammering without really knowing any names or details beyond my own fuzzy memories. But…

 

“Yeah… Those all sound like places on the border between Dreadweave’s and Furthonois territory.” Raska rasps out. “Some with thin enough borders to nearly walk between, places an Everflame can just… burn their way through if they expend the energy.”

 

Tretion’s eyes widen a bit. “Truly?”

 

Raska shrugs. “I mean… you have to be a little stupid to try. But yeah.”

 

A pause.

 

“H– have you tr– tried?” I ask.

 

“Yup.” She grins wider. “It was… so my First Flame was only just beginning to share words with me, and I was… not in a good place. Hadn’t really worked out how to shift my body. So… I kinda went out in search for that. Mad as all the Dead Cinders and ready to burn the Rifts down. Was originally planning to hunt down a Fae to force one to show me how.”

 

Everyone else here kinda stiffens, unable to see just… just how little this bothers her. Like… there is pain there, but this…

 

“Dreamer’s Tits.” Awnya huffs out a chuckle, “That’s… wow. I’m sorry you had to do that.”

 

Raska eyes her with a smirk. “It all worked out. It’s how I found Wren and the rest of my girls. Then started learning shifting things from my First Flame.”

 

Another pause. Long enough for me to blurt out a stupid question.

 

“H– how Th– they?” I whisper. “L– like it h– here?”

 

If everyone’s souls were a bit tense before, they all are tinted with such sudden worry. Well… all except Raska’s core.

 

“Good. Really really good. They love it here. Like, a lot.” She answers immediately. “Was worried it might be crowded but… Naw. Other than the sky above this place has everything. Used to we had to just… keep close for fear of some sort of danger boiling up to be a problem and snatch someone away. But here? We can spread out a bit. Watch each other feel safe enough to lean into others.”

 

I nod. “G– good. G– glad. Th– they d– deserve t– th– that.”

 

“Thanks. They… they do. And…” She nods, and I only just notice her glance up and over at my Tretion, who tilts her head in… something? A question bubbles across her soul at the same time one does on Raska’s. But…

 

Raska’s expression twists, then she turns back to fully face me. “They miss you, and… and I’m so sorry. Girl. For what I did. For how I… I just… I’m sorry.”

 

I want to look away. Want to run. Would… would love to just melt into the Fae who holds me close as a tremble rolls through my everything.

 

After swallowing hard I mumble. “M– my f– fault. Sh– should h– h– have t– told y– y–”

 

Raska’s vicious shaking of her head cuts off my words. “No. Fuck that. By the Dead Cinders you… you had a right to keep your past to yourself. Even if you knew about my bitter hatred toward Fae. More so then! I… Lyra, you needed us. So badly then. Didn’t know how much till I got here. With the way things were headed we… we would have fought to keep you from leaving with Thendra. Or… or at least given you a place to hide when things got bad with her. But… but I RUINED that!”

 

I don’t… really believe her. How can I? She… she doesn’t know how much of a mess I am. Just… I even end up letting stupid words spill out despite my Fae’s warm embrace and thrumming supportive soul nuzzled close.

 

“N– no. A– am… um… W– was R– r– Reaver. D– dan– ger– ous.” I murmur.

 

Raska’s smiling again as my Fae sighs softly in disagreement. It’s a painful thing but… soul seems mostly… like… I mean it’s hurting. But for me? Or… I mean Tretion and Awnya thrum with that a lot so it’s easy to spot.

 

“Girl, You didn’t even try to fight back.” She says very softly. “And we both know, now more than even then, that you could have stopped me or ran. You wanted to stay, thought you could be safe with us, and I fucked that up. We could have gotten you to leave her. I know we could have!” Her Sparkflame eyes dance over my scars, then back up to my face as her shoulders and soul tremble in guilt and regret. “Just… I’m sorry. I’m so so sorry.”

 

“It…” I nibble my lip, and finally tear my eyes away. “It oke. W– wouldn’t h– have l– left. N– not… I w– was… t– tool.”

 

She winces. “I…”

 

A few seconds pass before Raska murmurs quietly. “I… I know I don’t have any right to ask or… or anything but… I didn’t expect them to let you be a part of this. Let you out of the manor, much less see the cunt again. And… And I just… don’t want to see you go back to her. If you need to be there to keep your lovers safe I get that but… I just… I need you to know they’re right. Okay? You deserve better than her. Deserve them. Deserve this home.”

 

I sigh and shuffle uncomfortably in Awnya’s arms. “St– stupid. D– don’t. B– but…” Eyes drift to watch my Jellyfish nuzzle close to our wonderful Watcher’s soul. “Th– they do. At l– least. W– want to s– stay h– here. I– is m– my h– home. Th– their h– home.”

 

Her soul is practically seething with all the words and feelings and things at my words, but… it’s Awnya who huffs out a laugh and pulls me close to murmur.

 

“I’ve let you get away with too much of that for one day.” She whispers, but definitely loud enough for everyone to hear. Her Amwella pulsing really distracting amounts of furious desire flooding out. “Don’t think I won’t remember this, beloved.”

 

I’m a flustered mess in her arms. Face filled with heat that trickles all down through me. Just… starts to touch deeper spots.

 

“Right.” Raska huffs. “Sorry. Got us off track.”

 

Tretion lays a hand on her knee. “It… this was important.”

 

“Yup!” Awnya smirks. “Because… This has a chance of getting messy. Really messy. Before we even like… start seeing about leaving.”

 

“Huh?” I try to wiggle around to face her. Such… odd motes of inspiration forming in her soul.

 

“She’s right.” Tretion agrees, and I turn back to face her. “We’re not just going to go running off into the wider Rifts and simply hope nothing attacks you from within or without. It’s better we face the risks in safer places, then venture forth with the solid and well-trained knowledge of what to expect.”

 

That seems to relax Raska more than anything else. “Oh, fuck me. That… yeah. Good. No deadline then? Just… take this as slow as we can and react to the sparks that kick up?”

 

Tretion nods. “Yes. We can always resort to our first plan if things get really bad. But for now… we take the first steps here. Starting, I think… with us seeing if anything changes when we have Lyra step forth from that containment working. If this Fuzzy Fae Spirit really means to remain docile.”

 

I go stiff. “I… b– but…”

 

Can’t. Not safe yet. Am… I’m dangerous and a monster and… and I can’t… but she…

 

Our wonderful Watcher turns to me with such a soft smile. “It doesn’t have to be for long if problems arise, and with the three of us here we can act quickly if something happens.”

 

“I think that’s a great idea.” Awnya nudges me when I don’t move. “Seriously. She’s been sooo rightfully jealous that I’ve been the only one to hold you. And… Well, of course the little one’s miss their birth mother.”

 

“I…”

 

Tretion reaches out and lays a hand on the barrier. “I’d woven a dozen or so requests and instructions to the Manor in case something happens, beloved. Us, and our young, will be safe. I’m fairly certain it could even bubble each of them and keep them isolated if it really needed to.”

 

Nibbling on my lip, I consider this.

 

Then I nod.

 

And with a pop, the bubble around us is gone.

 

I don’t move at first, and… and no one else does either. Just… Amwella echoing a patience for me to take this as slow as I want. Well… all except my Jellyfish. It only takes them a second to begin to notice something is different. Sense the change in Tretion’s soul and excitement for something.

 

For me.

 

And before I can even think to bubble up a little song to them the clutch is twisting free of their second mother and rushing me. Slamming into my Amwella and would have very much knocked me backwards if our Fae wasn’t there to hold me steady.

 

A symphony of love and delight tinted with titters of worry and fear overwhelm me. So happy to be swimming and dancing back in my Sea-Bed of a soul but… also so very scared that I’ll push them away again.

 

Something cracks at that.

 

I’m dredging through that old curse’s sting to hum the softest melody of love and regret and… so much more. A tide of memories of my own Fae mother sending me away because… because she thought it was better for me to be safe but without her close than… then face things together. And she was wrong to do that! Wrong to let me leave later to find Awnya and... and... and so I compose them a song of Promise.

 

Better in danger with our family, then alone.

Always.

 

I’m not sure how long I weep this Promise Song, or exactly when Tretion’s moved forward to scoop me up and wrap us all in her mess of loving tendrils, or the moment Awnya is able to twist her own mess of emotions into the song’s harmony.

 

But I do look up to watch as Raska steps from the room, and feel such an ache as the door closes behind her.

 

 

ALSO ALSO... make sure to leave us a good star rating/review if you're enjoying our story(s)! 

A Discord for SST and LoTDD is LIVE and ready for you to visit and meet other readers!

My other story is BIG happy and Support and Lesbian Polycule.
Go read it for the GOOD FEELS.

Just a reminder, my Patreon  to always be 3 Chapters ahead for both LoTDD and Sun Spoken Turn!!!

Also also! We just did right up a new lil story about a Living Weapon and her Witch!

Clickie the pretty picture below to go read it!!!

All art is by/collabed wiff @Redsheis!