Heh.

I HAVE A LOT TO EXPLAIN, I KNOW. I just love silent prologues where I say nothing and I leave you.

I think it's just flippin great that we've all got different head-canons about the Fairlies. I swear, Ridley's trolling on fanfic probably sure because he leave so many holes in the books for us to fic. (Neon…confess already.) He's always said that he wants to do a Fairlie-centric for ages. (Well, get on with it, Rid.) This is my contribution to the fandom. This is my headcanon of how and why.

This was thought of back in October. It's been sitting a lot longer than ISW. Thing is, for months I said I was gonna do it in Fall 2013. Then I said I could probably squeeze it in the summer. Then, I picked up the calendar, on the day I finished ISW Epi, beginning of May, and counted out the weeks of summer, and said to myself, It'll probably run over a bit, I'll keep it for Fall. Then I opened my PM to Jessie…and I just froze. I just thought about how old this is. How not Dare or Truth or IMY. A step up from ISW. Heavy, dude. And I said…I'm not pubbing this.

Then, there I am, lying in bed, tail end of August, two weeks to go till I have to write something for my first official Fall update, and I say out loud: "I want a multi-chap. …I'm doing TLOTF."

"What the heck" is my attitude for this thing. I'm very confident in my writing now, I'm just trying to find my way through keeping a consistent angsty-gray-my-lacy-black-gloves voice. I mean, I'm in a character I'm comfortable with, and a POV and tense I feel good with, so this may be great or this may be terrible. Your choice. I intend to blow your minds, which would maybe turn into one of my proudest accomplishments.

I'm not doing song connections, 'cause that turned out be a waste of time that nobody listened to (im not even sure Jessie did it), but just to say, "I'll Try" by Jonatha Brooke is my background music for every single chapter I'm doing. And for some, "Only If for a Night" by Florence + the Machine. Just sayin.

I owe many of these chapters to Baltimore, Maryland. I vacationed there last November and you know how August was the real real birth of ISW? This was for TLO. I literally sat there by the gas station in the car and said "Amaranda's here." I just felt it there. Oh, yeah, I'm not misspelling the name. Patience, my darlings. I also was there in May, and I visited Fort McHenry. The Fairlie barracks. I mean, the barracks in my mind/this story doesn't match there, but it helped a lot with just making it realer.

I'm gonna try to stay canon. When I reread 5 back in April, I took a look at the first look of Mattie that we get, and I'm like, "Oh." My story was literally the absolute opposite. But I've reread it a couple more times and found ways to make it work somehow. Some things will be cray cray off, some things will be "wheradaheck did that come from", some will hopefully click in your mind. I reference pretty much every Fairlie-huh thing in the series that I've found, but not all, so I never say this, but if something's really really nagging you about a questionable Fairlie question from the series, give it to me. I'm not asking you to flood my PM box but if it's been your life goal to understand why Amanda said this to Finn I'll try to fulfill your wishes? So basically this only applies to Jessie and Neon and Ellie ok btw ellie where are you

This is rated T. I'm rating it T because of death and heavy themes. This is not NYKK. But nothing explicit, I promise. Some chapters are definitely T, some are K+/T, some are K+. This chapter is T.

All will be explained. I won't do a ch13 bikers.

You will need Google Translate for this story.

the lie of the fair
unum: nativitas

Amaranda - Novem

There's screaming in the other room, but Amaranda doesn't cover her ears, because covering your ears is a lie, and all it does is muffle the truth.

She should be scared, as any child would, as any child like her should, because danger is heightened in a way never understood before, and fear is a sin, fear is an event that rarely happens. She's different. Somehow, she understands and sees it as a dark gray something that just sits and waits. Waits for life to seize hold and twist and turn and try to wriggle out the trap they put themselves in in the first place. Basically, everything that the pained one did.

Sursum had blocked the oh so curious doorway that was conveniently settled right in front of Amaranda and said no, you may not enter, sit in the other room if you're so wondering. Don't listen. This is not happening. And not waiting to let her eyes whine she walked to her left and stepped into the room busied by boxes that's a wall away from the other room. The one the noise is coming from.

In the beginning of it all, Korinna had exploded her eyes with alarm and with trembling, terrified footsteps to Sursum, she plugged out "Annalisa, she's coming," as if she was so certain it was a she, as if the pure white walls made sure somehow it was a she.

And Sursum had gotten Kristilee and Milearae to help her carry the groaning poor thing out of the meeting place and into the hallway, a place Amaranda has never seen before. And the little child had trotted behind, wondering why Korinna was so angry she couldn't walk or something, or maybe it's that thing she's been talking about for months and months on end, that could be it. And Sursum had looked back and seen her and flared everything and said, "Go back." But it was almost like she had to say go back. Like she was required to.

But Amaranda said "Why?" and Sursum Annalisa was defeated.

She was allowed to trail behind until Sursum blocked the door and the rest is the present, Amaranda's back pressed against the walls, hugged by two boxes, keeping one in front of her for a barricade, the dangling light swinging swinging swinging. She blinks every time there's something from the other room. She bites her lip to taste the blood, something Sursum never lets anyone show, something that's now a magic trick to Amaranda and stings but doesn't hurt. She tries counting but the numbers are weird sounding when she can't remember any more. Her lips softly open and close, like she's easing them out.

"…Tribus, quattor, quinque…"

A bang. It's loud. Then the silence afterward feels like it isn't allowed to be there. Like something fell or something smacked the table. Smacking the table isn't right, the list of chastises swirling in her consciousness corrects. Then heavy breathing, relieved breathing, finished breathing.

That may not be the right response, because her stomach does dances, and her hair falls out of her hands. She feels time gradually advancing. It's not sluggish anymore. It's moving.

Amaranda covers her ears to rid of the silence and whispers to her knees, "Finally going."

Shallow breathing in the other room. There's relief and despair somewhere hidden in there. No response from the other three. Then Sursum speaks low: "Female."

And it blows. There's tiny, squeezed out cries in the other room, from a voice much higher than anyone in the barracks. With every wail Amaranda's skin seems uncomfortable, like it doesn't want to be there. A familiar feeling, one coming too often. A cursed twisting in her stomach.

"Amaranda…" Korinna's quickly fading voice leaks from the other room. Sursum Annalisa starts to stutter out something, but words are lost.

The little child rises up tentatively and treads lightly to the door, stepping through the threshold, a transformation from safety to jeopardy. The other door is wide open. She meets the sight of a gray-faced Kristilee and Milearae, looking down to avoid the uneasiness that so easily colors the room. Sursum has her hand on the table, close to Korinna's, like the one lying on the table was trying to hold it but Sursum wouldn't get too close. Sursum tugs Korinna's skirt down. Amaranda tries to see why, but Sursum's eyes disapprove. Korinna is holding something, something squirming and scrawny, its voice harmonizing with the cries Amaranda heard from the other room—now it has a face, tiny and squinted and red, with golden hair matted down and damp, wriggling out of its protector's arms, like it doesn't want to be there. Amaranda doesn't know what it is…but the answer is floating, breaking out of the gray haze, and it's like it's pulling her…or is she pushing it…

Korinna lets out a poignant smile, her tears staining her face, knowing something that she doesn't want to speak. Amaranda gets closer at her head nod, and approaches the misfortune, each step an attack on her fear. She doesn't want to look at the small thing. But she has to.

In a moment of looming dread, Korinna calmly extends her arms to Amaranda, the small thing nearing, and Amaranda blindly accepts the gift…or curse…It's slippery, the small thing, and she hangs tight, not knowing what emotion to show on her face.

"Her name is Jesamae," Korinna gets out. Sursum tries to protest, or agree, or something, but Korinna continues, almost inaudibly. "Take care of her, Amaranda."

"Korinna, no," Sursum says. "Korinna, you're supposed to—"

Maybe she said "It's my choice," maybe she didn't. But Sursum Annalisa is trapped by her words. The baby girl's name is Jesamae. She's a light haired.

The baby opens her eyes, and Amaranda takes a good look, and she can see they're green.

Her breath catches, and she's lost it completely when she looks over to the quickly losing light Korinna, clinging onto the life string.

No Fairlies have a mother.

"She'll live," is the last words Korinna's tongue touches, and she's limp on the table.

Amaranda feels it, and she sees that the other Fairlie feel it too. They're inching upward, invisibly, their postures are aging. It's not perceptible unless you know it.

"A tragedy," Sursum speaks. "Two. With the power of three."

"She's not a tragedy," Amaranda contradicts, and she knows she shouldn't have. But the green-eyed in her arms seems a whole lot more valuable now.

Sursum ignores. "Amaranda, take the girl. Let's move."

Review? Beat me up. Tell me if this really just shoulda stayed on Word.