Author's Note: Thanks for the reviews, Summertea88, SingingSilent, and OppositeNebula.

Sorry it wasn't clear. The poem was from the journal that Sleet threw into the fireplace when Silvermist's wing was cut off. The page didn't fully burn, so Silvermist found it.


Meandering through the autumn woods during sunset, he kicked a pile of leaves.

Silvermist had kept her wings covered all day, refusing to even let him touch her hand to see if she was in pain. Her glow around his heart dimmed now and then, but it was impossible to tell if it was due to her wing hurting or her self-consciousness. There had been a bloody tissue in the wastebasket, but she'd walked away when he'd tried to ask her if her wing had bled again.

These emotions were hard to understand. Her world had shattered so much in the past two days, and there was no price too high to see her smile again, to not be ashamed of being a siren fairy and perhaps never fly again.

She didn't know that the bedchamber door had been cracked open and he'd been about to knock. She had raised her wings and tried to flutter, but her broken wing with the feathers hadn't been able to lift her. And she had sunken to her knees and wept on the edge of the bed.

The leaves underfoot blurred, and he brushed at his eye. Even just the memory of her feeling so broken was hard to bear. Alamur didn't feel empathy, much less to this degree. And it made it so difficult to know how much space to give her.

An unfamiliar desire burned again to gather her in his arms and just take all the darkness into himself again, but it wasn't darkness hurting her this time. There was no following her into hell to rescue her. Even Lord Milori said it was a dark path that she needed to travel alone, to just wait for her on the other side. Damn Neverland if he wasn't going to follow wherever she went.

Dropping onto a fallen branch, he sat and leaned his elbows on his knees, running his hands through his hair. Her glow around his heart dimmed, and his glow brightened. She must be crying, but there wasn't any fear like she was in danger. His chest heaved as he rubbed it, trying to force more love into her heart. Getting up, he paced and swallowed hard as her sadness grew. Neverland, her heartbreak was worse agony than any torture he'd ever experienced. Leaning against a tree, he sank to the ground and wept.


"I didn't mean it like that," Tink said quickly.

She'd opened the door without checking who it was, certain when the porch board had creaked that it was Sleet coming back from wherever he'd gone. But it'd been her friends. And her wing wasn't covered.

"But it's not a weird bird wing prosthesis," she sobbed.

Rosetta threw Tink a sharp look and stepped over to take her hands. "Don't cry, hun."

"No, it's my wing. We don't know what happened, but it turned into this." The shock on their faces made the shame burn hotter.

"Silvermist? Are you bleeding?" Fawn stared at the ground.

She looked down. Red drops congregated under where she'd tucked her wings down. Panic slammed. Her eyes flew up to see disgust on Vidia's and Tink's faces.

Fawn pushed forward. "Vidia, you're fast. Go get a healer. Tink, go find the Captain." She grabbed a tissue and pressed it to where the wing bled, as if nothing was abnormal about a fairy dripping blood instead of sugar.

"What in Neverland?!" A deep voice boomed.

Sleet stood in the front doorway and marched in, forcing the fairies to make way or be trampled.

"I've seen this happen with the animals," Fawn explained, not the least bit afraid of Sleet's fierce expression. "Sometimes when they get worked up, the wound reopens. We need to get her to a healer. This is bleeding a lot."

He scooped her up, slowly enough that Fawn could keep pressure on the wing. His glare threw daggers at Tink, as if he'd heard what she'd said before he'd arrived.

"Just let it bleed so maybe the feathers will fall off," she begged.

"Vidia, get the healer. Everyone else, out!" he barked. Then he eased her onto her feet. "Is that how it works with feathers?" he asked Fawn, his voice a little more patient.

"Not in animals. Silvermist, if this works like animals, if you lose enough blood, you could fade." She glanced up at Sleet. "Can you try mate healing?"

The glow burned hotter as he pressed his heart to hers, but the bleeding wouldn't stop.

Instead, Fawn stared at the wing and dropped the tissue in surprise.

"What?" Sleet demanded.

"A, another feather is coming in," Fawn gasped.

Grabbing her own wing and bending it at an angle that hurt, her chest heaved and hysteria took hold to see normal fairy wing slowly replace with one, two, three, four feathers. "No! No!" She screamed and grabbed a feather, yanking hard enough to rip it out.

"Silvermist! Stop!" Sleet locked his arms around her to immobilize.

"No! No!"

The shock on Fawn's face didn't register from the violence, only the terror and panic to rip out all the feathers to get them off, to stop it from taking over her wings. Bucking and thrashing and screaming didn't make Sleet let go, only driving the insanity.

The few moments between when Silvermist started violently struggling and screaming and when Spruce burst into the cabin were horrific. It took every ounce of strength to walk the perfect line between keeping her immobile but not crushing her. Only once had he seen a fairy act like this—when Alamur sugar got inside and made her go mad until she died.

"Hold her still!" Spruce ordered and positioned a syringe. "Silvermist, calm down or I have to sedate you." He looked at Fawn and threw his head, signaling for her to leave.

The terrified fairy shot out the door.

"No! No! No!" She flung her head and kicked, doing her damn Neverland best to use every bit of her strength.

"Wait!" he ordered over her screaming. The glow around his heart hurt like it was terror, not madness, driving her. "Dewdrop," he said in a low voice that demanded she calm in order to hear. "No, what? Tell me what you need."

"Get them off! Cut them off!" she screamed and kept fighting to get free.

Lord Milori ran in at that moment, shock on his face. "Fawn said—"

Her foot hit between the legs. A cry of pain, and he gave her a small shake. "Silver, enough!" he boomed in a tone that not even Alamur dared to cross.

She stilled for a split instant, as if a switch flipped. "Sleet?" She sounded confused and frightened.

"I'm right here. No matter what, Spruce needs to look at your wing. Will you be calm?"

With a small nod, she sniffled and remained still.

Slowly loosening his grip, he let her go.

She turned in his arms, and tears fell down her cheeks. "Why are you mad at me?"

His heart stopped. It was as if she had no recollection of what just happened.

The Queen burst into the cabin. "Sedate her right now!"

Everyone startled.

"Clarion? What?" Milori blinked.

"Now!" The Queen ordered.

He looked down at Silvermist to take her in his arms so she wouldn't be afraid of the Queen acting afraid of her. The fear and confusion on Silvermist's face vanished, replaced with anger as she lunged at him.

Just as Spruce drove the syringe into her arm.

He stumbled back and fell onto the sofa. Silvermist landed on him, her body an unconscious deadweight.

The Queen looked down at him, with worry in her eyes. "I just had a flood of knowledge. Only the most powerful sirens gain feather wings. And they go insane during the transition."


"Nooooooooooooo!" Silvermist's scream echoed through the tunnels of Lord Milori's old basement.

"You need to go," Lord Milori said and set a hand on his shoulder, pressing him back another step. "Spruce and I won't leave her."

"But she's terrified." Tears wouldn't stop running down his face since she woke up from the sedation fifteen minutes ago.

"She doesn't know what's going on. The Queen said this could last a while. I watched Clarion go slightly insane with hallucinations when she was poisoned, and I couldn't take it. This is going to be much worse. You need to not be here."

"I'm not leaving her." He leaned a hand against the ice wall as another scream rang and almost made him want to vomit.

"Fine, but first you need to go talk to the Queen and figure out what we're going to tell everyone. Four fairies will start gossip, and everyone is going to notice that her wings are feathers." He patted his shoulder.

"Milori!" Spruce called.

"Go. We'll take care of her until you're back." Lord Milori trotted toward the screams.


The Queen paced at the tunnel entrance, to his surprise. "How is she?"

Glancing at Thomas and the other guards, he just gave a shake of his head.

She turned to them. "I need a few minutes with the Captain." When they flew up into the trees to stand watch, she pulled her coat tighter around herself. "I'm sorry this is happening, Sleet," she said softly and turned to face him. Regret softened her eyes.

"Don't look at me like that," he growled, his voice gravelly from weeping.

"LIke what?"

"Like she might fade." Too tired from the past days, he didn't care if the Queen was standing. He sat on a stone.

She walked over and sat, rubbing her arms. "The knowledge that I gained didn't have anything about sirens fading during transition. I look at you with sympathy. I can't imagine how difficult it must be watching this happen to her and not being able to help her as her mate. Did Healer Spruce or Lord Milori tell you that it could take days?"

Heaving a sigh, he closed his eyes for a moment and shook his head.

"The Keeper Dewey didn't have any additional information. As far as we know, it could be two to seven days."

"C—" He cleared his throat that suddenly closed up, and stared straight ahead at the forest. "Could she get violent enough to tear her wings?"

This time, the Queen sighed. "We don't know. Spruce will keep her restrained just in case. She shivered.

"Come closer," he growled. "Silvermist says I keep her warm in winter."

The Queen moved a hint closer.

Cursing under his breath, he wrapped a hand around her far hip and slid her up against his side. Then he tucked his hands back in his lap.

"Hm. You are warm, but you don't have goosebumps from wearing only a tunic in winter." She sounded pleasantly surprised.

"So I can hunt Bright Fairies in any season," he grunted.

An un-queenlike snort. "Yes, you're so evil," she retorted dryly.

A heavy, unspoken question hung in the air that he refused to ask, refused to learn the answer.

"This violence is temporary. She isn't turning evil," the Queen offered, as if sensing what terrified him most.

A single tear slid down where the Queen would be able to see, but it didn't matter. Nothing but Silvermist mattered. "Do you know that? Or you hope?" he breathed, no louder than a whisper.

Her gloved hand slid into his. "I know this. Even if I didn't gain that knowledge, she's far too pure of heart to ever become evil. It must be the most pure there is to make an Alamur fall in love, right?" She asked.

A scream rang up from the tunnels at that moment.

His face crumpled, unable to stand it any longer.

The Queen turned and guided his head to her shoulder.

"Why couldn't it have been me?"

Her breath hitched, as if startled by the confession, and then she slowly stroked his hair.

Another scream, this one more horrific than the last.

Holding fistfuls of coat, he sobbed for a long time on the Queen of Pixie Hollow's shoulder.


"What do you mean you let it escape?!" he roared at two soldiers days later.

Lord Milori had kicked him out of the tunnels after not sleeping for two days straight because of staying up with Silvermist during her horrible screams. 'No' was all she'd scream, fighting the soft restraints of spider silk so hard that she had terrible bruises on her wrists and ankles.

When she'd grown too hoarse to scream, she flung herself so violently that he had to lie in bed and be additional restraint. This morning her voice had returned, and she screamed and thrashed incessantly, leaving Spruce no choice but to sedate her to keep her from breaking her wings that had almost fully transformed into feathers. Spruce had even bound her wings that were big and strong enough to toss them across the bedchamber.

Every nerve was wound past the breaking point.

"We c,couldn't stop it," the soldier stammered.

"What the hell was it?! Where did it go?!" he screamed in the soldier's face.

This sick being had to be responsible for the torture that his Silvermist was going through. If it took the last breath in his body, he'd hunt this thing to the ends of the earth.

"Captain," the other soldier said, clearly nervous, "we couldn't see because it moved so fast. It got caught in the ice cell trap that we set, but it smashed through. We couldn't tell where it went."

Clenching his teeth, he growled, "Show me."

The soldiers led the way to where he'd seen the swirling, contained blizzard in winter weeks ago. A cell made of ice lay crushed, as if whatever had been inside had run right through the bars. The cage hung from a rope in the trees.

"Send for the General," he ordered and dropped to one knee to inspect the ice fragments.

"Captain, it's not safe here alone—"

Surging to his feet, he glared down and snarled in their faces, "I won't repeat myself. Go!"

"Yes, Captain." They both shot off.

"It's no wonder why your soldiers quake," Lord Milori's voice broke the silence.

He spun around.

Lord Milori lifted Silvermist off the back of Blizzard and held her arm as they approached.

All the breath escaped his lips. The world stilled.

She wore a thick blue cape, with the hood pulled up. Her porcelain skin had a healthy pink glow in her cheeks against the cold, and her hair escaped the hood over one shoulder down to her waist. Those long black lashes swept up, and beautiful brown eyes looked up for a moment. Simply the sight of her well was enough to stop his heart.

Without even thinking, he suddenly ran full speed and reached to sweep her up in a hug.

But she took a step back, still holding Lord Milori's hand. Fear flashed through her eyes.

"Dewdrop?" His stomach plummeted. Her fear was of him.

Lord Milori stepped forward. "Her voice is extremely hoarse. She doesn't want anyone touching her wings, but she asked for you when she woke up."

"We didn't think you'd wake up today, or I would've been there. Oh Neverland, dewdrop, I don't give a damn about your wings." Sweeping her up, he held her tight and buried his face against her neck as he cupped the back of her head. Tears escaped. "I was so afraid you wouldn't come back to me," he breathed. Her wings were quite firm and lumpy against his arms, but it didn't matter. None of it mattered.

Her arms slowly wrapped around his neck. "I remember being so scared, but you were there," she rasped, her poor voice barely a whisper.

Turning his head, he pressed a kiss against her neck. "Of course I was there. You don't need to be scared anymore." Then he kissed her jaw and lips, although she didn't return the kiss. "I love you so much, my dewdrop."

She pulled back enough to wiggle down.

He eased her onto her feet, ignoring the sting of her not returning the words or kiss. She was probably exhausted and self-conscious about her new wings.

"What do you have here, Captain?" Lord Milori nodded toward the cage and offered Silvermist a hand.

She took it and started forward with him.

Milori seemed to notice his surprise and commented, "She has some trouble balancing yet." He gave a pointed look to take her other hand.

Taking three quick steps to catch up, he scooped up her free, gloved hand. She didn't withdraw, but she didn't lean on him like she did Lord Milori.

She stopped walking for a moment and let out a breath, as if she hurt.

Lord Milori looked over her and shook his head when he started to reach to take her pain.

Then she resumed walking.

"Soldiers are guarding the perimeter. There's no need to look petrified, Captain," Milori said. "What have you figured out so far?"

He slowly let go to leave Milori holding her, and dropped to one knee at the cage. Wrapping a hand around a bar, he squeezed. It shattered. "Can you crush this?" He returned to hold Silvermist.

"I can stand," she protested.

That barb struck deep. She simply didn't want his touch. "Humor me, dewdrop."

Lord Milori tried hard but couldn't break it. Then he stood and set his hands on his hips. "So we know it's faster and stronger than Bright Fairies. It still doesn't rule out an Alamur or anything else."

"It smells. I didn't notice it at the time, but it's the same scent as when it was at the cabin."

Milori frowned. "I don't smell anything."

Silvermist refused to look at him.

"When it attacked her, my Alamur senses returned," he said quietly. "I can hear, see, and smell better, like before the Bright Fairy transfusion. This attacker knows my Alamur name. I can't smell it like I used to be able to smell other Alamur, but that could be because I don't have their sugar. Whatever it is, I suspect it has to do with the Alamur, possibly an enemy of them." He glanced down at Silvermist. Her eyes remained locked on the ground.

"You feel fine? Not like it cut you and got in Alamur sugar when it cut her?" Lord Milori asked.

Her hand in his didn't even flinch.

"Perfectly fine. I have absolutely no idea what it could be. With how fast it is and the fact that I can smell it makes me doubtful that it's an Alamur, though."

Lord Milori rubbed his brow, as if exhausted. "What enemies do Alamur have? What else has the strength and speed of an Alamur?"

With a glance down at Silvermist, he sighed. "Creatures are the only thing I'm aware of, and this certainly isn't a Creature."

"What is an enemy to Creatures?" Silvermist croaked without looking up.

His head snapped to her at the same moment Lord Milori's head whipped up. He exchanged a worried glance with the General.

"I don't know. It seems that sirens are, but it displays capabilities that are beyond a siren, I believe." He looked from her to Milori.

"Let's go talk to the Keeper and Queen," Milori sighed.

He reached to scoop up Silvermist.

She held out a hand to keep him back.

It might've hurt less if she'd slapped across the face. "Silvermist, have I frightened you?"

With her eyes still on the snow, she shook her head. Her glow around his heart receded a little more. "We need to talk afterwards," she rasped and slowly turned to carefully walk alone to Blizzard.

Staring after her, a terrible sense of dread tightened in his stomach.


"If both you and the Keeper don't have any knowledge, are we just supposed to wait until this thing chops off every fairy's wings?" Milori huffed.

Queen Clarion raised a delicate eyebrow, somehow not looking any less formidable being bundled in winter clothes at the Keeper's library. "I'm going to assume that was my overtired mate speaking and not my General," she warned.

Lord Milori's eyes narrowed and actually glared at the Queen for a moment, but he bit his tongue.

Silvermist wouldn't touch or look at him.

This wasn't his affectionate dewdrop. Perhaps the insanity or transition had done something to her. Or maybe she was simply exhausted. But what would she need to talk about that was so urgent and serious that she didn't want to even touch? A terrible thought struck.

The Queen said sirens didn't fall in love. What if having feather wings transitioned her more into a siren, and she didn't love him anymore? Didn't she want to be mated? She certainly didn't act like it. Neverland, the room was too hot and nausea swam up. If she wasn't a Bright Fairy in any sense anymore, did it mean she wouldn't need to sleep under the same roof once a week to keep their glows alive? His heart pounded and the room spun. Neverland, what if she wanted to leave him forever, to go live in Neverland with the other sirens and seduce any male who came along. Oh, he was going to faint.

"Right, Captain? Captain?" the Queen asked.

"What?" He tugged at the neck of the tunic. It was hard to breathe.

The Queen threw up her hands. "Everyone, go take a nap. We'll resume this discussion tonight."

Everyone filed out of the library, except Silvermist. She sipped a cup of honey and lemon that the Keeper had given for her laryngitis. But she seemed uncomfortable with his presence.

"Neverland, tell me what we have to talk about because I'm panicking that you're going to leave me."

When she froze in the middle of a sip. She didn't protest.

Leaning back against a thick ice column, he slid to the ground, suddenly unable to breathe. "Why?" The word forced out like a pathetic beg around his throat that started to close up with grief.

"I can't mate with my wings like this," she said softly, her voice only slightly scratchy. "I became more siren—"

Running his hands through his hair kept them from shaking. "I don't care about making love. I can't even safely do it with you anyways."

"Why do you think I want to leave?"

There were so many reasons, but perhaps she had a greater fear of becoming evil now that she was more of a siren fairy. Who better to bring forth that evil than an Alamur? Bringing his knees up, he dangled his arms over them and bowed his head. It hurt to even breathe.

"I'm so scared you're going to think my wings are gross. That you'll think you have to still love me."

His head whipped up.

Tears shimmered in her eyes. "It's hard to balance because they're so heavy. I weigh more, maybe too much for you to easily carry me. They're hard. So hard that I can't sleep on my back, and you can't hug me through my wings anymore. They bend and fold up like a monster's, not like a fairy's. They—" she choked on a sob and buried her face in her hand.

His wings buzzed with elation. She didn't want to leave, she was afraid that he wanted her to. Pushing himself up, he gathered her in his arms. "Your wings are not like a monster. Silvermist, I love you. There is no clause or addendum attached to it. Your wings are different, and we need to learn about them. That doesn't mean they aren't beautiful."

She squirmed against his chest.

"Wait," he pleaded, loosening his grip, "please, don't not let me touch you anymore."

The wiggling stopped, and she stared at his chest. And she burst into tears. "It hurts when you hug my wings tight. But I don't want you to not hug me anymore."

Instantly dropping his hands to hold her upper arms, he leaned down to brush away her tears. "I'm sorry. Don't cry. What if I hug you like this?" He wrapped an arm around her shoulders and the other softly laid over her wings under the cape.

But she shook her head. "That's not how you hug. It's not the same." And the sweet thing buried her face against his chest.

Slipping an arm inside the cape, he eased an arm around, but his hand bumped where her wings attached still down the full length of her shoulder blades.

Fistfuls of his tunic tugged in her hands. "They're so gross," she sobbed, nearly choking as she gasped for air.

Sliding his hand down to her waist, he wrapped his arm around and held tight as he pressed a kiss to her hair. "No," he whispered. "They're magnificent, sweetheart." They were so warm and soft against his arm. Although it did feel strange when they twitched and shifted slightly, unlike typical fairy wings, it wasn't at all unpleasant. "There's power in these wings, dewdrop. They're gloriously soft, and you can go into any temperature without worrying about your wings breaking. And they can keep you warm, and I would imagine you might even be able to fly as fast as me now. Let me see them, dewdrop."

"Have you heard of the evil fairy Maleficent?"

"I have," he said slowly. "But I think tales of her evilness have become just that over centuries—tales."

"She has creepy wings like this."

Before she could panic, he leaned back and slowly unbuttoned her cape.

Although shame and heartbreak still filled those beautiful brown eyes, a hint of hope and curiosity glimmered. She needed someone to help her see the good in this instead of the doom and evil she thought accompanied these wings.

The cape slid to the frozen floor, and her wings twitched, as if aching to stretch instead of be confined so tight against her body.

Holding her hands, he took a step back. "Show me how beautiful you are, dewdrop."

Biting her lip as tears crept down her cheeks, she slowly extended her wings.

His jaw went slack as they rose.

They were the most majestic things ever seen in his travels in three hundred years. Each wing spanned a bit longer than him, adorned with white and cream feathers. Along the bottom ran rows of feathers, each as long as his entire arm. These wings were so massive that it was a wonder she could hold them up. Yet, she hadn't weighed much more than usual when he'd picked her up earlier.

The top joints of the wings where evil sirens were said to have a talon, she had rounded, gold knobs. Perhaps it was a myth and they'd grow into hooks yet, or perhaps they couldn't because she wasn't evil. But it didn't matter.

"Silvermist, these are glorious," he breathed, in absolute awe. "Never in eagles or owls or anything have I seen such elegant wings." Stepping back to hold her fingertips, he took in the sight of her. "Dewdrop, you're gorgeous." Without even thinking, he reached out and stroked the feathers near her shoulder. "They're softer than down and so strong. Neverland, I imagine you could even carry me." Excitement built. "Have you tried flying? Dewdrop, the things you'll be able to do with these."

"But not be hugged or lie with you," she whispered. So much sadness clouded her face.

"Nonsense, dewdrop." He stepped closer and wrapped his arms around her easily for a fierce hug.

And a small laugh escaped her. The joy of hearing her happy again made his glow burn brighter, oddly enough.

"Don't let me tip." The wings slowly moved in closer, and cocooned to create their own little world. She smiled up at him, but leaned, as if unable to counterbalance the weight on her own.

A grin pulled as warmth chased away the cold winter air. "It's warm in here."

A shy smile peeked out. She seemed pleased that he admired her wings, and she angled in the tops of her wings overhead, creating more privacy.

He tilted her chin up. "And no one can see us."

The smile grew a little more.

Brushing a kiss over her lips, he whispered, "It makes me want to do naughty things, wife."

That won a giggle.

"Captain!" Lord Milori's voice boomed.

Her wings flung out in startled surprise. A loud crash as they knocked stacks of books to the ground. She grabbed his tunic as she tipped backwards. Her wings gave only two beats, but it was enough to create a powerful gust of wind that blew papers everywhere. Her wings counterbalanced her weight more than expected, pulling him down with her. He stepped on her dress and slipped, losing the opportunity to catch her in time. Her face zoomed closer, and he flung out his arms at the last minute, landing hard on his hands and knees to keep from crushing her.

She stared up, her face close enough to kiss, and looked embarrassed and ashamed.

A laugh burst out of him as he got up and pulled her to her feet. The room was a disaster. "It seems we have to work on not causing a tornado, dewdrop."

Just like that, she offered a small smile, as if happy that he simply accepted her wings.

Lord Milori slapped a hand to his face.


Author's Note: I'm excited to see what the future holds for Silvermist. :)