Work Text:
“Did you know those rings lead to the fairy land?”
Clementine jumped almost out of her skin, hearing a voice behind her. The small, scraggly patch of grass outside the orphanage wasn’t ever quiet, but she’d taught the others to leave her alone, with fists and teeth. That was alright to her, though. All they did was tease and push and pull. Bunch of bastards, she’d say, not quite sure what the word meant but liking how it pissed off the adults around her.
“What d’ya want?” she snapped, turning around to see who was bothering her.
The child- boy or girl, Clementine couldn’t tell, and God, how much she’d pray to look like that, not like a she- looked to be around her age, six or seven, and had sparkling grey eyes with a mischievous glint in them. Their strawberry blond hair was curly and tied in a ponytail, and reddish burn scars covered their body. Clementine softened at that, just a tad. He wasn’t one of those fucker (another word she liked but didn’t quite understand) who pretended to be tough but was really just a big pansy.
“Just thought you might be interested,” the child said, face still in an impish grin. “People used to stay clear of mushroom circles in the old days, y’know? If you enter fairy land, you can’t come home.”
“Well, I don’t have a home, so I think I’ll be fine. Prick.” Clementine stuck her tongue out, which only made the child laugh. She couldn’t help but smile at that.
“Tubbo, actually.”
“Clementine,” she responded, ignoring the way saying that name made her stomach drop, the same way her pinafore dress and being called a girl did. “Is your name really Tubbo? That’s a weird-ass name.”
“Nope,” Tubbo-not-Tubbo chirped, “but Clementine isn’t your name, either, right?”
Clementine snorted. “Wish it wasn’t. Ma and Pa only ever gave me shit I hated. My name, my-“ she gestured at her pigtails and dirt-covered dress, “my- well, the scars I don’t mind. Makes me look mighty fierce, dontcha think? Like a Viking!” She grinned, mud in her crooked teeth. “Better than some tiny girls with wings. Fairies are fucking lame, man.”
“Oh, the fairies you see in picture books aren’t anything like the real fair folk. Can I tell you about them?” There was something alight in Tubbo’s eyes, so excited to talk about something they cared about, that Clementine could never refuse.
“Course you can, mate.”
“Well, real faeries aren’t all small and innocent. I mean, they can be small, I guess, because they can change shape, but their true forms usually are pretty big.” Tubbo held his arms out wide as a demonstration. “They’re definitely not innocent though. Childish, but not innocent. They like playing with people’s lives like toys, and they have the magic power to do awful things. I read in the past, faeries would go out every century and hunt for mortals to take as playthings, but now they just take human children and replace them with their own.”
“That’s wicked.” Clementine liked the sound of these more than the boring friendly maidens in the picture books. Not that Clementine had anything against maidens or anything- they were very pretty and nice, and she liked them a lot more than men- but she much preferred tales of bloodshed and glory. “How d'ya know all this? Did you get one of the big books from the adults? Is that why you’re using so many big words?“
Tubbo froze for a second, like a deer in the headlights, before clumsily trying to regain that sense of calmness they had about themselves. “Did you know that to travel to the fairy world, all you have to do is step within the circle and give a sacrifice?” The nervous change of topic was obvious, but Clementine knew not to press. “Just a bit of blood- don’t try it though, you really, really don’t want to go there. Better to die, at least then you get to go to the clouds. Though, if you’re not giving away your true name, you might do alright. Did you know that if you give a faerie your true name, they have power over you? Actually, it’s really interesting. You see…”
Clementine decided she quite liked Tubbo. She’d never had a friend before, but perhaps this was what it felt like, and she liked it.
(Tubbo and Clementine didn’t quite feel right, though. She needed a better name. Maybe something beginning with a T? Oh, and she could make it a boys name. No one could stop her, and she’d always wanted to be a boy.)
(Either way, she was sure they’d never part.)
Tommy grasped onto Tubbo’s arm with the desperation of a man holding onto his last shilling. “No- no, you can stay, you don’t have to go, please don’t go!”
Through blurry eyes, he could barely make out Tubbo giving a sad smile. “I wish I could stay. You know I do, big man, but I can’t.” Gently, he lifted Tommy’s hand to feel the fur of his sheeplike ears, to the rough base of curled horns. “I’m- I don’t belong here, and I can’t hide that anymore. You know what people are like with anyone- anyone different,” he said, barely choking back a sob, “and I’m not as strong as you. I can’t- I can’t live like that.”
“I’ll come with you, then! I don’t want to spend another second in this shithole without you. You’re the only reason I’m still alive, man.” Tommy sniffed. “Just please don’t leave me alone again.”
“You can’t.” There was something horribly broken in Tubbo’s voice. “You don’t know what it’s like, but I do. You don’t want to know what would happen if they got their hands on you. Death would be better.”
“Then why are you going, then? Why can you risk that and not me? I’ll- I’ll- I’ll punch ‘em to death! I can protect you if you let me!”
“You don’t understand,” Tubbo said, pained frustration evident. “You’re a human. I’m one of them. To them, I’m kin, and you’re a thing to toy with. I hate it, but it’s my home. And this world is yours.”
“So, I’ll never see you again?”
Tubbo nodded slowly. “… I’ll miss you, but- please, promise me this, don’t even think of coming after me. You’ll leave this place in a few years, and that’s if the bombs don’t get it first. Take whatever these bastards will give you as compensation, and take the train to the countryside like we always planned. Make friends, make a life for yourself. Forget about me.”
Tommy opened his mouth to protest, but Tubbo gripped his shoulders tightly. “Tommy- Tommy, please. You trust me, right? Then pinky- promise me this one thing. Don’t throw your life away for me, ‘kay? Only two years til’ you’re eighteen and able to make the world your bitch, remember? It’ll be fine. You’ll forget all about me!”
Tommy could feel the bruises on his shoulders already beginning to form as Tubbo let go, holding out his pinky finger. “Please, Tommy, promise me this one thing.”
Tommy took a deep breath, and interlocked Tubbo’s finger with his own. “Yeah, man. I promise.”
With his other hand, he crossed his fingers behind his back tightly.
It wasn’t even a week before Tommy broke this promise.
It was okay, though, because if you crossed your fingers, it didn’t count. Tubbo had taught him that trick, and it must have been true, because else he wouldn’t have been able to do much as raise a finger to leave. After all, it’s not like you could break a faerie vow.
It was pitch black as Tommy got out of bed, not a single spark of light in the whole orphanage. That was the rules, of course, since the bombings had started. Orphans weren’t a top priority to evacuate to the safety of the countryside, and now they weren’t even given the mercy of letting one of the bomber planes see a light through their window and blow them back to their Father in Heaven.
It was a fucking sick joke, really. To pretend that they were protecting them, shielding them, providing them some form of life. No, all the staff did was put meagre meals on the table and keep you out of the streets, and that’s if you were lucky. At best, they just went through the motions. At worst, they’d forget (or “forget”) meals, scream at you til their lungs were hoarse, hit you if you were one of the weaker kids. Tommy had grown out of the latter- hitting a growth spurt young and being of a height more suited to the boy God clearly intended him to be instead of the girl he’d come out as- but the former still stung.
At least they’d given up on trying to force him back into dresses kicking and screaming. Biting, too, from the last time they tried. That was how he lost one of his baby teeth, and Tommy held that memory fondly. Tubbo had never found it quite as funny- he’d been in hysterics about the switching Tommy had gotten. Always a fucking goody-two-shoes, Tubbo was, unfamiliar with the sting of the belt or the cane.
That wasn’t to say he was some smarmy suck-up, though. Tubbo broke as many if not more rules as Tommy. It’s just he bothered to cover up his crimes, while Tommy enjoyed pissing off those around him more and more by adding to his permanent record. What they did wasn’t even half as bad as Ma and Pa, so he could take a smack or a lecture for the priceless opportunity to see the look of fury on the bastards pretending to care’s faces.
After all, the good book only said to honour your mother and father. Tommy might not be the best at honouring Ma and Pa, held the same contempt for them they had for him when they were alive, but he honoured them a whole lot more than anyone else but Tubbo, so the Big Man Upstairs might let him off a bit there.
The dorms they were in had bunk beds, and of course, Fate being as she always was, Tubbo had the bunk above his. Tommy had been taking to storing what he needed under the still-empty covers, and he climbed up the ladder as quietly as he could to grab them.
A shirt and trousers, obviously, he couldn’t go in his nightclothes, an oversized ratty red coat with pockets big enough that Tubbo himself probably could have just barely fit, some stale leftovers he’d been storing for weeks, and a knife . One from the kitchens, probably barely able to slice bread, but it was better than nothing. Those were all he had to his name, really.
Tommy shimmied out of his nightclothes as quickly as he could- he hated them, too close to a dress for his liking- and into his poorly-fitting outfit and even worse-fitting coat. His shirt hung loose on his gangly frame but barely reached down to the hem of his trousers, and those barely hung onto his hips and still left inches of calf exposed. The coat looked even more ridiculous- almost reaching the ground and baggy enough it hung loose off his shoulders unless he tugged its hood up, and a bright cherry-red that made him stand out more than he already did.
The strangeness was comforting.
It reminded him of Tubbo, and anything that did that brought a smile to his face. The kid covered head to toe in burn scars and with twinkling silver eyes stood out even when he was young, and as his faerie traits grew in, it only led to more and more odd looks. The hats he’d wear to hide the bumps on his head that’d eventually erupt into regal, curling horns, the way his ears pointed and shifted and grew fluffier until they were the same as a sheep, the way his shoes didn’t fit and he had to walk with a limp as his feet shrunk and turned to hooves.
Tubbo hated those stares (so, of course, Tommy glared back at anyone who did it and roughed up those who so much as whispered) but Tommy revelled in them. He had to. He was- well, to his knowledge, he was a complete anomaly. He’d never heard of a boy being born wrong, with a man’s heart and a woman’s body before, and neither had anyone else. So when he wore a man’s clothes, answered to a man’s name, bore the wild and untamed spirit no respectable woman ever would, they didn’t see him as a man. They saw him as a woman in a man’s clothes, ridiculous, stupid, scandalous. None were dumb enough to say it to his face, but he saw the way they looked at him, and he took it as a badge of pride.
Then, of course, he’d pray to the Lord for His forgiveness. Pride was a sin, after all.
Tubbo didn’t believe in all that God stuff, but Tommy lived and breathed devotion. He’d listen intensely in Church, read through his Bible until it was dog-eared and tearing at the seams. One of the staff who fucking hated him took it from him and never gave it back a few months ago, but Tommy had the last laugh since he had most of it memorised, so there.
As he crept towards the door, he repeated a quiet prayer under his breath.
Every step was anxiety-inducing, every step a potential trap. If he was caught trying to sneak out, well, not only would even he get beat black and blue, but they might invest in some less shitty locks. He didn’t wear bobby pins to keep his mop of curls out of his face- well, not entirely, at least.
Finally, Tommy managed to make it towards the door to the yard, and with shaking hands, he picked the lock and stepped out into the cold night air. It was so dark he couldn’t find his way by sight, awkwardly sinking to his hands and knees to feel for the rough texture of the mushroom circle he knew was there. He dragged himself into the ragged ring, gazing at the faint, barely visible outline of the orphanage for the last time.
Good riddance, really. Never seeing that fucking hellhole again was a relief.
Tommy took his knife out of his pocket, and sliced a long line across his wrist, wincing slightly as blood mixed with the grass and the fungi. For a second, he worried maybe it wouldn’t work, maybe he’d just done all of this for nothing.
Then a dizzying vertigo and flashing lights overcame him, and everything shifted.
If there was one thing Tommy didn’t expect, it was how beautiful Faerie was.
The night sky was a gorgeous mix of colours, some of which Tommy couldn’t even name, so dotted with stars you could barely see the darkness behind. The moon shone brightly, as bright as the sun, but it was comforting and warm, and didn’t hurt to look at. He was in a flower field, zinnias and primroses and striped carnations, reaching up to his waist and higher and impossibly big and vibrant. Leaves gently floated across in the wind, both in the expected greens and yellows and oranges but in pinks, purples, blues, some drained of colour entirely. Birdsong came from somewhere very far away yet very close.
It was stunning. Tommy couldn’t help but stop and stare. The closest to beauty he’d ever gotten into his life was the scraggly little yard, and the pictures of flowers Tubbo would excitedly show him from books. He’d never seen any flower but a bedraggled dandelion in person, never seen a night sky not marred in smog from the factories, been somewhere so open.
It was almost like Heaven. Almost.
(There was someone missing.)
It felt like pulling against an invisible weight to move, to do anything but stare and get lost in the beauty for an eternity. Still, Tommy persevered, one foot painfully in front of the other through an endless sea of flowers, drowning in them. They grew taller and taller, like he was falling deeper into the abyss, sinking well past the point his feet touched the ground. Even though he was walking in a straight line, at times, he could swear he passed the same point once, twice, a hundred times, like the world itself was shifting around him to keep him trapped, until just as he was about to give up.
And then, as he stumbled to his hands and knees over a wrong step, he suddenly saw past the blindfold of flowers. He was in a small clearing, with grass in a blueish gradient and soft as petals to the touch. A mossy cobblestone path lay in a circle, leading out in two directions, cutting through the shield of foliage. In the centre of that lay a statue carved out of a crystalline, iridescent material that Tommy had to crane his neck up to see that it was of some sort of figure.
Dusting stains off his trousers as he got to his feet, he crept closer to the statue, enthralled by the way the light bounced off it in a way that made it look like it was softly glowing in pastel colours. At first, he thought it might have been of a human, but sneaking closer made it abundantly clear that it was anything but.
It stood upon two legs, and had two hands with four fingers and a thumb, but that’s where the similarities ended. Its hair, carved in impossible detail, fell down to its chest, and flowers and branches grew from its ends. Magnificent antlers burst out from its forehead, and its face was simply two dots for eyes and a curved line for a smile, and it lay flat without any sort of nose or snout, thin lines against it the only possible cracks in an otherwise eerily flawless cut. Its arms and legs were clawed and curled like a beasts limbs, and what looked to be a brush-like tail peeked out of its cape. And, most awe-inspiring at all, delicate butterfly-like wings grew from its back, so thin and light that from certain angles, they seemed to almost disappear.
Tearing his eyes away from the awe-inspiring beauty of the carved faerie, Tommy spotted a plaque carved by its feet. He reached down to sweep away the grass obscuring the text, and jumped in shock when touching the crystal-like material. It felt like ice, yet somehow warm, and he almost thought his fingers might stick to it. After a few seconds, he used the fabric of his oversized coat to cover his fingers, and carefully read the inscription.
A monument to the Uniter of the Courts
The King of All Fae, The Dreamer of All
May his reign be as eternal as this statue .
Tubbo had said something about the Faerie King at one point, Tommy vaguely remembered. Only in hushed tones, terrified whispers. Older than the trees, and hidden behind a mask, his superficial charm hid a cunning intelligence mixed with childlike cruelty. His plans were as mysterious as he was, and while adored by those who’d spent so long in Faerie humanity was but a distant memory, to Tubbo he seemed nothing but a monster. Seeing him presented in such a reverent manner seemed so jarringly at odds with the monster Tommy had built up in his head, far less threatening and far more, for lack of a better term, human.
Maybe Tubbo was wrong, and nothing was as bad as he claimed. Tommy hoped that was the case. If Tubbo was okay, everything was okay.
Tommy sighed, sitting on the velvet-soft grass. God, he missed Tubbo so fucking much it felt like his heart was being pulled out of his chest. He was the shining star guiding him through the darkness of life, the only person who didn’t look at him and see a crazy fucking girl and instead saw a Tommy. He’d burn the whole world to the ground just to see him again. Tubbo was the only goddamn person who was worth a single shit that Tommy had ever met, and being apart from him was torture.
All at once, something opened like a floodgate, and he could not hold back tears any longer. He curled into himself as his body was wracked with loud sobs. He choked on his own cries, and spluttered coughs soon turned to retching, and it was only the minimal amount of food in his stomach that kept him from vomiting. Ludicrously, he couldn’t help but feel thankful that he wouldn’t despoil such a place with his own sick.
He felt like an intruder in this place. An ugly stain of ink over a beautifully written manuscript, to use some bullshit metaphor like the type Tubbo might’ve. There was an inherent wrongness to him being here, one he could feel in every inch of his body, and it made him want to apologise to existence itself for daring to mar it with his very existence. That was bullshit, of course, it was the stupidest thought ever, but man, it was so fucking tempting it took everything for him to just stay quiet, letting the tears roll down his cheeks as he buried himself in his knees.
A sudden “mrrrow?” brought him out of his thoughts, and he looked up to see a cat staring at him, right at his side. Instinctively, he jumped, before bursting into laughter at how ridiculous a reaction that was. The cat just gave him an incredulous-looking stare.
It was remarkable how even the cats here looked so different. Unlike the mangy alley cats who went through the holes in the fencing and hissed violently at any child who approached, this cat was clean and fluffy, with pale fur that reminded Tommy of the moon. Its eyes were a bright, shimmering emerald green, looking almost like cut gems with how they refracted light, and it appeared docile and friendly.
Nervously, Tommy placed a hand onto its head, and it purred as he stroked it. “You like me, don’t you?” he asked despite the cat clearly being unable to answer, and burst into giggles as it meowed regardless. “Is that a yes? Well then, sorry, you old mog, because I got shit to do.”
The cat made a whining noise as Tommy got off his arse and dusted the blue patches off his trousers, and Tommy sighed. “Sorry, man, but I got a friend to find.”
The cat rubbed itself at Tommy’s ankles, and he relented. “Fine, fine, y’can follow me if you want, but if you fall behind, cat, I’m not gonna slow myself for your own fucking problems. I can’t just keep calling you cat, though, can I? I need a name for you. Like… Pussboy. See, it’s funny because it sounds like pussy, and that could mean a cat, or it could mean…”
Tommy continued rambling as he started walking down the cobblestone path, the faerie cat following his heel.
“… Anyway, Pussyfoot, so that’s when Tubbo said-“
“Do you ever shut up?”
Tommy jumped at hearing the first voice that wasn’t his own in… God, he could have been here minutes or centuries, honestly. He’d made it to civilisation a while ago- a mix of modern-looking cities that could have been like London or some shit, stuff from fucking ages ago, and weirder shit that ranged from mushroom houses to things he couldn’t even describe- but it had been completely, utterly, desolate.
It wasn’t Tubbo, was his first thought. His second was that of the manifold warnings he’d heard Tubbo day after day after day. The fae are dangerous. The fae are cruel. If they catch you, you’ll be lucky if they kill you.
Letting out a dignified and not at all embarrassing shriek, he immediately ran to hide in the shadows, only for a peal of dehydrated, raspy laughter to ring out. “Kid, I’m stuck. I know you’re new, and the King ordering everyone inside isn’t helping, but I couldn’t lay a hand on you even if I wanted to.
Tommy stepped out of the shadows, looking around wildly. “Where are you?” he said, in what he hoped was a confident-sounding voice.
“In the cage, obviously.”
“Well, I don’t know where that fucking is, dickhead, so enlighten me.”
“Are you even old enough to come back yet? You sound like a child.”
“Shut the fuck up! I’m- I’m a big man, prick!” Tommy could feel his cheeks turn red as the voice started laughing again, and he covered his face with his coat hood, walking around blindly and trying to find whatever cage was mentioned.
After leaving the alleyway and reaching what looked to be an abandoned town square, Tommy gasped at what he saw. Not out of the beauty that astonished him when he’d first arrived, but brutality he might have expected then but had long grown to believe must have been paranoia.
On a metal platform in the centre of the plaza, the bony limbs of a man- no, a fairie- hung out of a cage barely big enough to hold his form. A faint sizzling sound and the smell of something burning made Tommy’s stomach flip, but gritting his teeth, he forced himself to move closer.
Every step made it worse. One and he could see the burns dotting the skin, everywhere he’d touched the bars. Vaguely, he remembered Tubbo hissing as he’d grabbed onto something iron, the bubbling burns on his skin for weeks after. Another, and he could see what looked like an old soldier's uniform ripped, bloodied, and far too baggy for the emaciated thing inside. Another, and he could spot what looked to be the stumps of wings crudely torn off, the remaining feathers colourless and sparse. Closer, and he could see the too-human face of what now seemed barely a man, a decade older than Tommy at most, with sunken, pale cheeks and pure black eyes, with parched blue lips and bluer blood streaming from his nose.
“Fuckin’- Jesus Christ, what happened to you?” Tommy said instinctively, and the fae winced slightly.
“There’s- there’s a plaque. Above my cage. Please, just read it. I’m tired of explaining.”
Tommy glanced up to read the writing.
A Traitor of the Courts
who fought against the Unification
May he serve as a warning to those against the King.
“I- that’s fucked up, man,” Tommy said, barely above a whisper. “I’m sorry.”
The fae furrowed his brow, confused. “Really? I don’t know about you, Little Red Riding Hood, but I’d rather be alive as a warning than killed, and that’s what normally happens to traitors. I’m not a naïve kid like you.”
“I’m not-“ Tommy said instinctively before taking a deep breath. “But isn’t it worse to be alive, suffering, than dead and with our Father in Heaven?”
A snort. “Do you still believe in all that shit from the humans? That’s adorable. ”
“I am not adorable, you prick!”
“Ooh, I think you are, little changeling,” the prisoner cooed mockingly, “you’re the most adorable little thing, aren’t you? The cutest little gremlin child?”
“I- shut up!” Tommy could feel his face warm again. “Or I won’t help you out of this- this thing.”
The man sighed. “I’ve heard that a million times from some changeling brat, and they walked away with burnt hands every time. It’s iron, kid. Just because you’re a cocky bastard doesn’t mean you’re indestructible.”
“I am!” Tommy put his hands on his hips, pouting. “Death wouldn’t ever take me, mate. It’d look me in the eye and flee. You’d be fucking stupid to not do the same, y’know. I’m the Biggest Man.”
“Biggest fucking gremlin, more like.”
“Do you want out of this fuckin’ cage or not?”
“I mean, yeah, I’d like to be, but I’m not fucking twelve or whatever. There are plenty of things in life we can’t get. I’d give my right arm to just beg for forgiveness, but that doesn’t mean I get to do it, y’know.”
“Well, why not?”
“Do they teach the poor fucking kids nothing nowadays?” The fae raised an eyebrow. “This isn’t like some silly human game, where the rules don’t matter. This is the Faerie Courts. You don’t get second chances after pissing off your betters.” There was just a hint of venom in the last word, under bitter exhaustion. “When the Queen reigned, traitors would have just been executed slowly and painfully in front of everyone. The King is more compassionate. He loathes taking the lives of his subjects.”
“Yeah, but how long have you been here?”
“Oh, just a few centuries, give or take-“
“ Fucking centuries? That’s not compassionate. That’s fucking cruel.”
The fae gave a nervous grin. “Well, the King is a bit more Unseelie than I’d perhaps like, yes. He does like his fun. But he’s… not as bad as I once thought. My actions against him are something I deeply regret.”
Tommy just sighed, and moved closer to the cage, examining it. A small lock stood out, looking fairly simple to pick, and he kneeled beside it, lifting the hood off of his head and pulling a bobby pin from his fringe.
The man's eyes widened. “You’re a human?”
“… Yeah, duh?” Tommy stuck his tongue out as he carefully fiddled with the lock, trying to ignore how the cage was crusted in blood. “It’s not like I tried to hide it or anything, y’know.”
“It’s- you’re clearly not a servant, no one would let them go out wearing those rags, not to mention those unsightly scars-“
“Oi, I’m the one freeing you here. Don’t fuckin’ insult me.”
“… What I mean is… you’re from the outside, aren’t you? The human world.” There was a curiosity in the fae’s pitch black eyes. “We haven’t had anyone cross that border in… I wasn’t even alive for it. We’ve taken, but we’ve never had any come on their own accord.”
“Well, I’m just built different.” There was a slight snapping sound as the lock opened, and the fae inside took faltering steps outside, looking around in disbelief, before he collapsed to his hand and knees.
Concerned, Tommy crouched down next to him. “You alright, mate? Need sommat to eat, or…”
“I’m- I’m fine.” A growl came from his stomach, and he sheepishly added. “I would like some food, though.”
Tommy reached into his coat pockets, emptying out the bread scraps and cold meat, which the faerie in front of him eagerly devoured. Grinning, he also took out his knife.
“Don’t I look fucking cool with this, man?”
The fae looked up and his eyes widened in fear, and he scrambled away. “Jesus fucking Christ, man, be careful where you point that thing!”
Tommy snorted. “Mate, it’s just a butter knife.”
“One made of iron. Please don’t go around pointing that thing at me.”
“Only if you stop calling me adorable,” Tommy said, huffing, even as he placed the flimsy knife back in his pockets. “There. Happy, now… actually, I never got your name. Mind telling me.”
“My titles are on the plaque, and I’m not fucking stupid enough to give away my true- oh. You’re a human. You want my human name. That’s the cutest shit ever. Y’know, I can’t believe you go around all calling each other baby names.”
“I will stab you,” Tommy said, not sounding at all like he was going to stab anyone.
“Fine, fine. You can call me Wilbur, if you like. Who are you?”
“To-Clementine. Clementine.” The wrong-name made Tommy’s skin crawl to say, but it was better than giving away his fucking true name. Even if this bastard- Wilbur- was as nice as he seemed, he didn’t want to spend an eternity under the control of anyone.
Wilbur raised a single brow. “ToClementine. Alright.”
Tommy crossed his arms indignantly. “I’m not a girl.”
“That’s not what I was going for, you little weirdo. I was just going to say that I was impressed you knew not to give your true name, but also that it’s fucking hilarious you nearly told me it by accident.”
“Oh, Tubbo told me everything. I ain’t no bitch. Clever is my middle name! Along with Danger. And Careful. And Kraken.”
“Those almost sound like titles, y’know. Maybe if you went around calling yourself something grown up, and don’t use your little baby name, I would stop calling you a little gremlin.” Wilbur laughed. “So, what’s it you want in return?”
Tommy blinked. He didn’t want anything; he just wasn’t going to leave some poor fucker to suffer when he could help. “I- what?”
“I mean, that’s how it works here, y’know? You help me, I help you. Is it not like that in the human realm?”
“I mean, can’t you remember, man? You had a human name, so you were like Tubbo and grew up with humans, right?”
Wilbur laughed, running his hands through his hair, and Tommy winced at seeing the burns through his wrists and ankles, reaching to bone. “You really don’t know as much as you and your little changeling friend must think you know. Of course I grew up in the human world. That’s just what faeries do. Time doesn’t flow properly here. A child would stay a child forever. The memories just… fade.”
“So… what about your servants? How the fuck do you use infants as servants?”
“Oh, there are ways around it. Ways too…” Wilbur grimaced, and rubbed his arms. “Too unpleasant to put any of our kin through.”
“Oh, but it’s just fucking fine to put human kids through?”
Wilbur gave him a confused stare. “Well, yeah. They’re not one of us. They’re lesser. ”
Tommy gritted his teeth. “So what? Am I lesser to you?”
“I mean, yeah? Is there a problem with that?” Wilbur sounded so genuine in his fucking superiority that Tommy felt the urge to punch his fucking nose in. “It doesn’t mean you’re bad. You’re a remarkable human, but you’re still a human. You live short lives without our help, remain stuck in boring little lives, fear us like wild animals fear you.”
“That’s… fuck you, man.” Tommy started walking off, feeling flushed with anger.
“Wait, do you think I don’t like you or something?”
“You pity me. That’s not the same.” Tommy growled, and Pussyfoot ran up and purred against his leg. “See, that’s what liking someone is. I’ll take the fucking cat over you.”
There was a genuine look of something close to remorse on Wilbur’s face when Tommy turned around for just a second. “I want to understand, you know,” he said, sounding utterly confused and defeated. “I- you’re the only person who’s ever shown me kindness in so, so long. I don’t want to upset you, Big Man. I want to help.”
Tommy grinned, despite everything. “Alright, alright, but only because you acknowledge I’m big and strong and handsome- oh so handsome- and that I’m the manliest man but without everything that makes men terrible. I’ll give you one more chance. Can you help me find Tubbo?”
Wilbur gestured to the maze of buildings, rickety shacks built up on one another until it was suffocating and confusing. “Well, this is where those without rank go, so a new changeling would probably be living here.” He laughed. “It’s gotten a lot busier since I was young.”
“You used to live here?” Even in little more than rags and heavily burnt, Wilbur had such a noble presence around him that the idea of him in this shanty town made Tommy giggle. It felt so out of place.
This time, Wilbur was the one to flush, bony cheeks turning blue. “I- I mean, this was a long time ago, and I worked hard to get myself somewhere better-“
“Better?” Tommy laughed. “I love it here! It’s like home but less shit.”
“Oh, you should see the real parts of Faerie, where the proper courtiers go. Back when I was in the L’Manburg Coterie, we had this massive wall which you could stand on and look down on the whole surrounding area. It was beautiful. You’re just unaccustomed to beauty.”
“ God, stop being such a fucking rich arsehole. You sound like you’d be in fucking Parliament.”
“Hmm?”
“Oh, it’s where all the fucking noble bastards go ahead, get us into wars, and fuck over everyone who isn’t rich. Goddamn pricks.”
Wilbur laughed. “Sounds like the Courts. It’s not that bad, once you get used to it. You’d enjoy it!”
“No, I fucking wouldn’t. I don’t wanna screw over people. That’s just being a dick.”
Wilbur raised a finger dramatically. “Ah, but you see, the fun of it is that you can get screwed over just as easily. If you’re on the winning side, you can do whatever you want, and if you’re losing, you’ll come out on top eventually anyway. It’s the greatest of games.”
“I’m not sure you quite get what a game is.”
“Nah, it’s just you humans are so boring.” Wilbur sighed dramatically, putting on a high-pitched voice. “Oh, I lost a limb! Oh, I’ve had my entire home burnt to the ground! Oh, I’m being taken prisoner by my arch enemy! Woe is me! That’s all part of the fun, but you don’t see it! It’ll heal eventually, so stop being a big baby.”
Tommy gave a double take. “… Wilbur, it doesn’t heal for humans!”
“Yeah, because you’re all a bunch of big babies. You should grow up with the rest of us. Now… can you tell me how this Tubbo looks?”
“Uhh, he’s like, this big,” Tommy said, gesturing to somewhere much lower down than Tubbo’s actual height, “he’s got this hair that’s sorta between ginger and mine, like it couldn’t decide, he’s got these really silvery eyes and freckles on the bridge of his nose and he’s got hooves and really fluffy ears and big cool-ass horns. Oh, and he’s got these sick fucking, like, burn scars- when he was a baby, his house burnt down, that’s why he was an orphan, and-“
“Okay, Toclementine. That’s more than enough.”
“So, what are you going to do with it? Cool magic powers and shit?”
“Well, I was just going to look through the windows. It’d be much easier.”
“Oh.” Tommy couldn’t help but feel disappointed at that. Looking back, it did seem like the most obvious way to find Tubbo, but he really wanted to see cool magical bullshit. Sighing, he picked up Pussyfoot. “She’ll help us look, okay?”
Wilbur gave a skeptical look. “I don’t trust that thing. It’s dangerous.”
Tommy rolled his eyes. “It’s a cat, innit?”
“Don’t trust anything here. Nothing is ever as it seems.”
“Well, I trusted you, and it turned out great, so there!” Tommy stuck his tongue out as he glanced through the open windows of the shacks- some made out of rusted iron, others half-standing wood, some that Tommy didn’t have the time to identify but were definitely abnormal. All that stood out was inky blackness. Pussyfoot let out a pitiful meow.
“Tubbo?” Tommy called out. Only a gust of wind answered back.
For hours, the three of them (the cat totally counted) searched the desolate streets, and right as Tommy was about to collapse from exhaustion, give up completely, something else replied.
“Tommy?” He teared up just hearing that familiar voice, that one sound of comfort in his life. “I thought- I thought I was hallucinating, but I-“
“TUBBO!”
Without thinking, as soon as Tommy saw the silhouette of his almost-brother, he rushed him with a hug, lifting him up in the air as he held him tightly, like if he was to let go he’d fade to dust. The warmth of Tubbo’s fur under his fingers felt more magical than anything else he’d ever experienced in this whole messed-up world, his laughter as beautiful as a siren's song.
“I missed you so much,” Tubbo said, choking up.
“I missed you too, man. I couldn’t just- just let you leave. I couldn’t live with myself.”
“I saw you everywhere. I missed you so much it hurts. Tommy…” Tubbo buried his face into Tommy’s chest, and it made his shirt wet and Tubbo’s horns painfully poked into his skin, but it didn’t even matter because it was Tubbo.
“I’m here, I’m here, Tubbo. I’m not going anywhere.”
It was a blissful slice of eternity there with Tubbo, but eventually, he pulled away, and Tommy felt so alone again. “Tommy, you have to.”
“I have to what, Tubbo?”
“Go.”
“No, no, no, Tubbo, I can stay! I’ll hide! I’ll fight. I don’t have to go. I made it here, didn’t I? I can take care of myself. It’s fine! It’s fine…”
“It’s not fine, though, is it? You’ll be stuck here if you eat, drink, give up too much of yourself.”
“Well, I’ve got nothing going for me out there, do I?”
“Yeah, but- but it’s safe! What if another faerie finds out about you? What if the faerie King finds out about you?”
An unfamiliar, wheezing laugh came from behind them. “Yes, it’d be such a shame if that happened, wouldn’t it?”
Tubbo let out a silent scream and scrambled back as Tommy turned around.
Staring back was the figure he’d seen on that statue.
“I do have to thank you, Tubbo, for helping me get my hands on such an interesting specimen,” it- he- said. His face- no, it was a mask, made of what looked like birch wood- stayed in the same blank grin, but there was a genuine excitement behind his voice, like that of a child on Christmas. Tommy noticed he was looking at him, not Tubbo. “You’ll be rewarded appropriately, of course- along with Wilbur, once I get my hands on him.”
“Don’t you dare fucking hurt them,” Tommy growled, which only made the King laugh further.
“Oh, don’t you worry, human. I’m not fond of lying. It’s so dull.” He ruffled Tommy’s hair patronisingly like he was a fucking dog. “Your little friends will get a handsome reward, and you’re going to be helping me out.”
“Why the fuck would I help you? You’re a fucking dick! ” Tommy took a step forward, looking at the King dead in his mask's “eyes”. “You scare Tubbo.” He reached into his pocket. “You locked up Wilbur.” He grasped onto his knife. “You’re a monster.”
Before anyone could react, he took his hand out and slammed the iron into the King’s arm, hard. For a second, everything froze.
And then, he started wheezing again.
“Oh, my- you really thought that’d work, didn’t you?” he forced between hysterical laughs. That flimsy little thing? Maybe- maybe against my subjects, maybe, but against Fae Royalty? Oh, that’s the most pathetic little stunt I’ve ever seen. I like you, human. I think you’ll do perfect.”
Before Tommy could process it, the air around him suddenly felt so very heavy, and every breath laborious. A fog overtook him, and he fell into unconsciousness.
When Tommy awoke, he was in a beautiful grove. Birdsong flitted from above, and the sound of a babbling brook was audible as he groggily sat up.
His first thought was to be awed at its beauty. His second was to see how everything was perfectly set up to be a trap.
The sound of birdsong and gentle chanting filled the air, faerie music, and he covered his ears to prevent it from taking control of his body or mind. The river coming through, crystalline and shining, was to tempt him to bathe, to drink, to consume the waters and become one with the realm. Juicy fruit grew from the trees, and even the grass looked edible. Large leaves and foliage that immediately looked perfect for shelter or clothing stood out, but even accepting that much of a boon from the land would bind him. Even willingly going back to sleep on the ground, softer than any pillows, might make him give up too much.
And, perhaps most notably, large roots came from the ground up into the sky, trapping him in a dome barely large enough to pace around. It was a beautiful prison, but a prison nonetheless, and a devious one.
He curled up in on himself, covering his eyes with his knees and praying under his breath. For Tubbo, for Wilbur. For Ma and Pa in Heaven, even if they did hit him. For Pussyfoot, the poor little cat who must be terrified out of her mind. For himself. He wasn’t afraid of dying, but what Tubbo had told him about the fae time and time again. If you’re lucky, they’ll just kill you.
I like you, human. I think you’ll do perfect.
Yeah, Tommy wasn’t getting that luxury, was he?
Instead of praying for salvation, to live, he simply prayed to die quietly, before he inevitably slipped up and got caught up in a horrifying fate he wouldn’t be able to even die to escape. That he’d be able to meet with his Father up above, and maybe Pa up above too. That Tubbo would understand.
He continued praying long after his voice dried up, his eyes started drooping. It kept him awake, aware, alert. Seconds stretched into an eternity, his skin itching and his brain feeling like it had been beaten into a pulp. However long he was there, he didn’t know, apart from it being far too long, but the interruption he got was no relief.
“Oh, you haven’t even moved, have you?” The voice of the Faerie King would have made Tommy jump if he’d had the energy to. “That’s impressive, actually. For a mere human to hold that willpower… we can do great things together, you know?”
Tommy raised his face from his knees slightly, to eye the King with suspicion. He chuckled slightly. “You don’t believe me, do you? That’s understandable, but please do trust me. I need you.”
Tommy opened his mouth to speak only to burst into a coughing fit.
“You okay? Need any water?”
Tommy frantically shook his head.
“You do. Look, I can’t force you, but remember, I don’t like lying. So I’m telling the absolute truth when I say you’re stuck here no matter what. You can technically leave as long as you don’t consume anything, but that doesn’t mean anything when you’re surrounded by enough security measures to keep a Fae completely trapped, let alone a human child. So, please, have a drink.”
Tommy hated it, but the King was telling the truth. He couldn’t break out of here starved and dehydrated anyway, so all he was doing was hurting himself. Reluctantly, he nodded, and the King brought up a cup full of water to his lips.
It was humiliating, to drink from the bottle like an animal or a baby, but he was so thirsty and the water tasted so refreshing he couldn’t help but gulp it down, even as he could feel his face burn right up.
Finally, when he finished ravenously devouring all the water in the cup, the King put the cup aside. “Feeling any better now?”
Tommy scowled at him. “Knowing I’m stuck here, not really, you fucking excuse for a King.”
The King sighed. “I don’t know why you hate me so much.” In a blink, he was there, the next, he was gone, and Pussyfoot was in his place. “You liked me when I was like this.” Before Tommy could react, he’d shifted back to his more human form.
“So you’ve been stalking me all along, Pussyfoot? Why’d you tell Tubbo that bullshit about how he helped you find me, or whatever.”
“Please, just call me Dream. And I wasn’t lying. I was watching you to find out if you were up to the task of helping me. Seeing you with Tubbo confirmed that for me.”
“How did you even know I was here?”
“I can see through my statues, y’know.” Dream laughed, and the colourful flowers in his hair almost bloomed at his happiness, yellow roses and gardenias and orange chrysanthemums. “I was so excited, y’know? See, I’ve got almost everything I want right in the palm of my hands. Power. Subjects. A peaceful, happy nation. Yeah, I might be a dictator, but I’d like to think I’m a benevolent one. There’s just one thing.”
Tommy raised an eyebrow.
Dream absently fiddled with his mask. “You see, I used to live with humans too, long, long ago. So long, you humans still dwelled in caves and hunted the mammoth. It was… nice. The sense of community there is something I’ve tried so hard to recreate, but I’ve always come up short.”
“And I can help there… how?”
“It’s simple. You with Tubbo, and you with Wilbur, you’re almost like… what did you call it? Family? It’s been such a long time since I’ve heard that word. I miss it.”
“Don’t you have any family here, you fuckin’ weirdo?”
“That’s… just not a thing faeries have. It’s the one thing I think you have over us. Faeries can love. They can be friends. But family?” He sighed. “That’s just not something we have. And I miss it. So, so much.”
“So… what, you want to adopt me or something?”
Dream laughed. “I mean, you’re not that far off. I don’t want a child. I never had one of those. But I remember running and playing and trusting the other children I grew up with with my life. Those were my happiest days, and even as my time here makes me forget I’ll always remember those.”
“So you want me to be your brother or something?”
“Yes and no. That’s just where it starts. I want to learn from you. I want to be able to make the whole of Faerie my family. Our family. And then we can be happy and play forever!”
Tommy tapped his foot against the grass frustratedly. “Won’t I just forget, like you do?”
“Oh, I can fix that!“ There was an almost unhealthy spark in Dream’s voice. “You see, if I get your true name, then I can go ahead and fix that. It’s so much easier to mess with others' minds than your own. Of course, I won’t change anything. That’d just ruin the point. Maybe for a few games, but I’ll fix you right up after that.”
“No! No, no, no, God no, I am not giving you my true fuckin’ name. I don’t wanna play whatever sick games you want, where you, like, tear me limb from limb or something horrifying like that.”
“I don’t see what’s wrong with that. You’re just being a spoilsport.”
“… Yeah. I’d rather stay in this prison forever than… that. Besides, didn’t you hear it when Tubbo and I met?”
“I couldn’t hear you until you said my title, obviously.” Dream sighed, before fiddling with something in his hair. He slipped his mask off his face, and Tommy couldn’t help but gawp at his face.
He looked… young. Honestly, he could have been Tommy’s age with his chubby cheeks and heavy freckling. His slitted eyes were the same green as Pussyfoot’s, and looked as feline. They had that same glint Tubbo’s had always had, and his smile was as crooked despite the savage-looking fangs peeking out of his mouth. Combined with his soft, dirty blond hair and short stature, the soft velvet of his green embroidered cape, the softness of his pale white paws, he looked… harmless. Adorable, even, like a kitten.
“I know it’s scary, but… human. I can give you everything you want. Back in the human realm, you were always tired, always hungry. I can grant you the softest of pillows, the grandest of feasts. You were born with a body unbefitting your mind. I can fix that, easily. You were alone, and you’ll never have to leave my side! All I ask of you is your name, and I can grant you that family I know you always wanted.”
“You’re trying to trick me, you fuckin’ liar,” Tommy mumbled into his knees. “If I give up my name, you own me, basically, right? My body, mind, and soul. You’ll have complete ownership of that.”
“I didn’t lie. I just didn’t tell you the whole truth. It’s different. Besides, you’re smart. I knew you’d figure that out. Is that such a thing to ask, though? I won’t work you to the bone. I won’t neglect you and leave you to suffer. All I want is the perfect family, and if you don’t want that, I have other ways of moulding you into what I want I think you’ll find far less pleasant. You along with Tubbo and Wilbur.”
That sent a chill up Tommy’s spine. Whatever sick games Dream had planned, he could handle them, but Tubbo? He’d fall apart, not because he was weak but because Dream terrified him more than anything. And Wilbur? Wilbur had already been through enough, and he might have been arrogant and more than a bit superior, but he didn’t deserve more pain.
“… If I tell you, you won’t hurt my friends?”
“Of course I won’t. I’ll even let you see them, if both of you are good.”
The way Dream phrased that, like they were dogs or toddlers instead of people, rubbed Tommy the wrong way, but he swallowed his anger. “Fine. My name is Tommy.”
It felt like a distinct anti-climax. There was no shift, no feeling of anything wrong, just a name hanging in the air.
“Tommy,” Dream repeated quietly. “Toh-mee. Huh. Fits you. We’ll need some titles for when you’re in public, but I could get used to calling you that when we’re alone, I think. It’s nice.”
Tommy couldn’t help but puff up a bit at that. “Thanks, I chose it myself.”
There was an awkward silence before suddenly, Dream picked up Tommy and held him in the air.
“Wha- oi? What are you doing, man?”
“I was trying to do what you did with Tubbo. Since we’re family now, and all.” His face fell. “Am I doing it wrong?”
“… Do you know what a hug is?”
“Oh, is that what you were doing? I can do that.”
“ Please don’t, I don’t-“
Any words dried up in Tommy’s throat, his body suddenly hanging limp like a puppet whose strings were suddenly cut. He couldn’t resist as he was pulled into a vice-like hug, more like that of a young child with a stuffed animal than anything at all resembling anything Tommy had done with Tubbo, and he could feel his ribs bruising and cracking under the strength of it, unable to try and break free or voice the agony of it.
“We’re going to go so far, Tommy,” Dream said softly. “I’m going to finally make everything perfect, and I’ll finally be able to have what I lost back. And then we can have so much fun, I promise. Forever.”
Forever was a long time to regret your actions, and Tommy was already starting to regret his.
“To- Brother ?”
Tommy smiled genuinely for the first time in a while, hearing Tubbo’s voice at the ball. His hair had grown, and he was wearing a frilly, fancy dress that Tommy well knew that he’d always wanted to wear, in a bold yellow and black that reminded Tommy of the bees that always slept in his hair. He’d gained weight, and had a healthy flush to his cheeks that had always been missing at the orphanages, but he lacked his soft, impish grin.
“Yes, Atom?” It still felt ridiculous referring to each other by their stupid titles- Brother of the Realm, Splitter of the Atom- but such a thing was custom, and God, Tommy had learnt the hard way to not break those. He pretended it was like a little game and that made things easier and harder.
“Are you okay? You’re covered in bruises.”
“Yeah, Dream just forgot to heal me today. No big deal, really.” He almost added I’ve had worse, but he hadn’t. He just hadn’t had magical healing afterwards before, or someone to comfort him as he cried. On that level, Dream was undoubtedly better than Ma and Pa or anyone at the orphanage.
It was scary how quick being family had slipped into normalcy.
Tubbo reached out to touch him, and Tommy flinched away, causing him to look even more concerned. “I’m not going to hit you, Brother.”
“I know, man, it’s just I’m absolutely covered in iron. I don’t want to burn you. To make sure no Coterie tries to steal me away, or anything.”
Tubbo laughed. “Oh, yeah, they’d absolutely do that. Probably good thinking, honestly. They’d probably kill you.”
I wish they would, Tommy mouthed when no one would hear them, under the sounds of singing and dancing.
I know. I’m sorry, Tubbo mouthed back.
Instead, when he spoke, he asked, “How’s Wi- How’s Ghost?”
“He’s doing fine. Found a nice girl. Salmon, you should meet her, she’s really nice.” Quickly, he shook his head and added, Misses you. Has regrets. Found him with an iron knife in his chest once.
Dream won’t let you lot die either?
Tubbo shook his head.
Before Tommy could say anything, a firm hand was on his shoulder, tight enough to make him wince, tighter than the grip of a man with his last shilling. “Brother? Brother, are you okay? I thought I lost you.”
“I’m fine, Dream, I was just talking to Atom.”
“It’s time for the speech, though. I need you.”
You do, Tommy thought, but not for the reasons you think.
“Fine, fine. But before I go, Tubbo ?” He emphasised that last part. He knew it’d get him into all sorts of trouble, but he didn’t give a shit anymore.
“Yeah?”
“I was right all along, wasn’t I? Faeries really are wicked.” Venom dripped from that last sentence.
He never heard Tubbo’s answer as Dream dragged him away.
(That was fine. He had an eternity to learn it.)