The house was dark, but the sound resonated throughout. It was a shrill noise that drowned out all others, a frantic sound that neither parent could cease; underneath it was the sound of the microwave as it heated a bottle, and Tracy's own voice, quietly hushing his daughter as he rocked her back and forth, one hand supporting her small head as she rested on the length of his arm, and the other beneath her. With each shrill cry came a new pang of anxiety – she'd been going on like this for the last two hours, since three in the morning. She'd awoken in the nursery and had scared both parents out of their fitful sleep. At first they'd been as calm as they would ever be – completely rational and in no way frightened by their daughter's antics. But that had been two hours ago; since then they'd tried everything – this was the second time they'd tried feeding her, they'd changed her, tried burping her, but nothing they did calmed their daughter's passion.
He lifted her and placed a kiss to her forehead, muttering senselessly that it was okay as Rae came out of the kitchen with a lukewarm bottle. Whenever the nipple was placed at Michelle's lips, she'd scream again and turn her head, unwilling to eat or, perhaps, not hungry. She looked up at her husband, bedraggled as he was, with dark circles under his eyes, and she took Michelle from her husband's arms, cradling her in her own and trying to feed her. She rejected the bottle every time Rae tried to press it between her lips, her face scrunched up and angry or upset or scared, but neither parent could figure out which.
Tracymoved to his wife and tried to calm their daughter, but she wasn't paying either of them much attention. They brought her back into the nursery and lay her in the the baby gently and looked down at her, tired and worried, and began to whisper.
"You spotted snakes with double tongue,
Thorny hedge-hogs, be not seen;
Newts, and blind-worms, do no wrong;
Come not near our fairy queen."
Rae was rather surprised to hear him muttering, with a faint music inflection to his voice, the verses of Shakespeare's Fairy Lullaby. She'd studied it in college, in her British Literature classes, but she'd never given it much thought, Shakespeare's uncanny connection with the supernatural. Now, she found herself wondering how much of Shakespeare's tales and fantasies had been derived from truth.
"My Michelle, with melody,
Sing in our sweet lullaby;
Lulla, lulla, lullaby; lulla, lulla, lullaby,"
The tiny faeid looked up at her father, cries softening by half a decibel as she took in the soft spoken lullaby. It seemed to have an affect on her, her shrill protests calming, uncertain in their frequency and conviction, her voice weakening and before long she was merely hiccupping, looking with wide eyes up at her father, who smiled down at her, continuing to rock the cradle gently until his daughter lost focus, eyes struggling to stay open as she was mesmerized by the steady motion and the sound of her father's voice.
"Never harm,
Nor spell, nor charm,
Come our lovely lady nigh;
So, good night, with lullaby."
They remained at their daughter's bedside long after her eyes had closed, the weary parents standing guard over her and rocking the bassinet slowly until they were sure that she was sound asleep.
Tracylet the cradle come to a gentle rest, stopping of its own accord, before he hooked an arm around his wife's waist and led her back to bed.
She lay down with him, tired and warm in his arms, and she looked up at him and whispered: "How did you do that?"
He merely chuckled and moved his mouth to her ear, holding her there as they both sank into the comfort of the bed and each other, slowly being pulled back to sleep, and he muttered, "How do you think my mam got me to sleep?"
—
Holidays were peculiar. The first year or so had been confusing; neither knew what was celebrated. When Lu'Leas Be Tselares passed, Rae had found herself in a stupor of celebration, and Tracy had calmly explained to her that it was a fairy holiday – put quite simply, Day of the Suns. In FairyLand, many things had changed to accustom time, but the names of their holidays, most cherished days, remained in the Old Elvish used millennias ago. There was nothing inherently wrong or unusual about the celebration, she was merely not accustomed to it. They'd gone to visit his family during Guld Fethel, and she'd been received warmly despite her lack of knowledge.
On the reverse,Tracyoften went with Rae to The Human Plane, to celebrate holidays with her family. Things like Thanksgiving and New Year's Eve he understood perfectly well, but Christmas and Easter took some explaining, as fairies did not glorify a Deity, per say, as opposed to a physical entity.
But despite their blatant ignorance in each other's worlds, they enjoyed themselves. Tracy enjoyed hearing The Manger Story, delving so far back into human history as to explain such a major part of their modern culture; Rae found the pseudo-sacrificial rites of Guld Fethel intriguing, and was more than happy to learn a thing or two about her husband's culture.
After Michelle was born, things only became more interesting during the holidays. InFairyLand, it was never so much of a problem. The air was tingling with magic there, and one fussy child's outburst wasn't sufficient to drastically spike the levels. Oftentimes, if Michelle, as an infant, would get upset during dinner or celebration, it was of little consequence and she was easily calmed by any one of the family – Diana andTracy's mother, Mab, were particularly good at calming Michelle. Often they'd include the little girl in the night's events, passing her from relative to relative and drawing a symbol on her with their finger, before she was returned to her parents. It was all very sweet, their way of blessing the child, Rae supposed, and Michelle didn't seem to mind it any.
But that was inFairyLand. The Human Plane was a much different surprised at the vast spectrum of atmosphere one evening could have. One minute they were all laughing and enjoying one another's company, the next the whole room went quiet around the table.
Tracy felt not a little out of place as prayer happened, but he just smiled, folded his hands and waited patiently, listening an understanding, in the end, what it was meant for.
Christmas Dinner began, the table mingling with one another over the food. It was all rich, heavy foods, much unlike the food made for celebration at home. There was thick sauces and a based bird, and fatigue overtook Tracy early into the meal. It was an unusual experience, and one that seemed to be shared by the rest of the diners (this settled the slight alarm), and he was confident he would have nodded off had Michelle not started crying. It startled him fully awake and he bolted from his seat and moved to her, lifting her from the bassinet and cradled her. "Oh, you are fussy, aren't you?" he crooned.
Rae excused herself and went to make a bottle for her bounced her and moved into the kitchen with his wife. Michelle was unhappy, face scrunched up in displeasure and crying with force.
There was the sound of breaking glass and a surprised yelp from the next room. He looked over his shoulder and saw Rae's older sister mopping liquid off the table. His heart sank. "Rae, if we can't quite Michelle soon, we may have a problem." He said, quietly, peering into the dining room. The moment those words were out of his mouth, Michelle took another deep breath ad let out another shrieking cry.
The brown gravy in the boat began to bubbly over violently before off with the rest of Rae's family, clutching his daughter to him protectively
What was left of the bird flew to bits, leaving behind a carcass that was gently rocking from the force of the explosion. Another scream, some shouts.
He turned on his heel and made a bee line for the door.
Fairies were born magical. That is to say, they depended on magic in their bodies to live. Just as humans needed blood and oxygen to survive, fairies needed blood, oxygen and magic, which made certain situations more dangerous for them than for humans. Still, it wasn't as if they had any shortage of it. As magical beings, their bodies were constantly producing it, keeping it flowing in their systems. However, not unlike baby snakes, whose venom is at full potency at birth, but they do not know how to control it, nor did fairy infants. Their bodies often overflowed with magic – some more than others – and this made them all the more precarious to deal with. Their magic would pour from them like electricity, latching on to whatever it could and wreaking havoc in unexpected ways. Here, it seemed Michelle's magic had favored the dining table.
Two more glasses exploded andTracyheard the fire alarm in the house go off before he made it safely out of the house. Any extreme emotion experienced by a fairy child could influence such disasters, and have often been known to cause serious injury or worse. He doubted his daughter could manage much with a turkey and some glasses, but if her magic found the carving knife, things could go very wrong indeed.
He paced her back and forth in the crisp December air. Winters inMesararely reached above fifty degrees Fahrenheit, or so he was told and, while it wasn't warm out, per say, it was warm enough for the baby to be out there. Besides, he thought dismally, keeping her in there would probably end the night in a trip to the hospital.
He kept at it, bouncing her and patting her and crooning to her in hopes of calming her down. Nothing seemed to work, until Rae came out with a warm bottle. He took it from her and pressed it to her lips. Her cries persisted until she realized that she was being fed, until the plastic nipple was in her mouth and she was suckling the bottle. She calmed in increments until she was quietly feeding, content as if nothing had happened. He laughed nervously at his daughter. "We're going to have to teach you how to control that," he said quietly, so the rest of the family, who had begun to join him and his wife in the front of the house, wouldn't hear him. "You nearly gave your aunt Katie a heart attack with that little stunt." As he was looking down at her, his glasses slip off the bridge of his nose, covering his mouth and making him sputter slightly.
Almost immediately, Michelle released the bottle, her mouth stretching into a open smile and she laughed, a gurgling, bubbly, infectious laugh.
"Oh, now you're laughing?" he asked, lowering his head to her cheek and making the same sputtering noises. She shrieked again, this time with laughter.
From behind him he heard a hushed "Oh my God!"
He looked up in alarm, fearing that Michelle's emotional rampage wasn't over. Little flecks of white spotted his glasses, descending from the sky and blanketing everything they touched, refusing to disintegrate and creating a fine white blanket of snow across everything.
"It's snowing, in Mesa!" Rae's brother exclaimed, spinning his fiancée in the inclement weather.
Rae came up and kissed her daughter, who was only laughing harder for the strange flecks of snow falling from above. "Merry Christmas to you too," she said quietly.
—
It was late. The twin suns had set hours ago, and Michelle sat in the kitchen, at the table, coloring. Rae had rearranged her work schedule so that she could be home and look after her daughter: When Shell went to school, Rae would go to work. Things were chaotic around the house for quite some time but, as always, they made it work.
The woman missedTracy– he wasn't home very often, anymore. He'd begun taking overtime, trying to fill the need for Tooth Fairies on extra assignments. He got home around nine, ten o clock on a normal night, and left at six the next morning.
"Mommy, when's daddy coming home?" the little girl asked, shuffling sheets of paper to find a blank canvas.
"Soon, Shell. But—" Rae took the crayons from her and scooped the little girl up in her arms. "For you, it's bed time." She crooned.
Michelle whined, whishing to stay up until her father returned, but even as Rae carried her back to her own bedroom, the nursery that had been slowly modified for their growing daughter, the girl began to doze off, head resting against her mother's shoulder.
"Daddy's always home by now," she said sleepily. "What if he's not coming home?"
Rae lay her daughter to sleep, tucking her in and kissing her forehead. "Of course he's coming home. You'll see him in the morning. Goodnight, Shell."
"Goodnight, mommy."
She shut her daughter's door, standing out in the hall for a be home soon.
Why hadn't he called?
She shook herself and returned to the kitchen to clean up Michelle's impromptu art project, glancing up at the clock every so often. The hands crawled around the rim of the time piece, every minute that passed by only worrying her more. Abandoning all reservation, she plucked the phone from its cradle and punched in his number.
It rang, the noise loud and painful in her ear after such still silence. She waited patiently for him to pick it up, one hand holing the phone to her ear, the other clutching nervously at her elbow.
It rang again, and again, and after every right there was a pause, a space of silence that she was so sure was going to be filled by his voice.
It rang again – his voice never came. Instead, she was greeted by a cold, electronic voice that told her to leave a message. She grimaced and hung up. She wanted to talk to him, not his machine.
Rae replaced the phone, settling on the couch and flicking on the lamp on the table next to her. She curled up on the couch, hugging her knees and tucking her feet underneath her.
The hours passed; she hoped he'd come home soon.
It was five in the morning. The front door opened with the softest click andTracyslipped in, unbuttoning his cuffs and undoing his tie as he moved into the house.
He came to a pause halfway to his bedroom, his hear pounding in his chest and the adrenaline pumping through him, shocking him awake as, out of the corner of his eye, he saw movement in the dark.
He spun to face it, the fear that boiled in his blood cooling drastically the moment he heard her muffled sigh.
As the fear ebbed, the feeling was replaced by a slight somberness. Poor Rae, who had sat up for him, expecting him home and moment – meanwhile, it'd taken him hours to get off of work. The blanket was bunched loosely in her fists, and he moved to her, crouching own in front of her and removing the fabric from her grip. He slid one arm beneath the crook of her knees, the other supporting her back as he lifted her from the couch, moving carefully through the living room and to their bed.
He laid her down and gently tugged the sheets from beneath her, pulling them all the way back before laying them gently over her form. When she was safely tuckered away, he removed his shoes and his vest and undid the top few buttons on his shirt before crawling in next to her, burying himself under the covers.
He watched her sleeping face for a moment before closing his eyes and drifting off, exhausted after such a hectic night.
Rae shuffled, pulling the covers closer around her shoulders. The bed was warm and soft and she sighed deeply.
Her mind was muddled with sleep, and it took her a moment to realize that she had fallen asleep on the couch.
She opened her eyes, seeing the edge of her bed, the light cream colored sheets, the bed stand and the while washed wall opposite her.
She frowned slightly and turned over, twisting herself in the covers in the process, to come face to face with Tracy, who was snuggled close to her and had, she realized, a hand on her hip.
He opened his eyes, realizing that he was a wake and he smiled tiredly. "M'sorry, luv," he muttered, running his had up and down her side. "Didn't mean to worry you, last night," he leaned forward to kiss her.
"Where were you?" she asked, when they broke. "I called and—"
"I know. I wanted to call back but by the time I got out of the assignment, it was already one." He held her closer.
The door opened, and Michelle came bounding in, crawled onto the bed. "Hi daddy!" she bubbled, plopping own on him, knocking the wind from him with an 'oof!' before she laughed.
"Hello, flower!" he said, grabbing her tiny hands and kissing them.
"I'm glad you're home."
"Oh," he groaned, still fighting off sleep. "Me too. All day, as it happens!" Michelle lit up. It was a rare occasion forTracyto be off on a weekend, when his girls were. He moved Michelle off of his stomach, laying her between her parents. "And I think," he said, "that we'll take today and go out. How about The Waters?" he looked at his wife, smiling, then back to his daughter. "How's that sound? Yeah?"
Michelle laughed and threw her arm over him in an attempt at a hug.
Rae smiled and sat up, pulling her daughter off ofTracy. "Sounds like a wonderful idea," she said.
—
Tracy and Rae stood in the garden archway, watching Michelle as she ran through the crowd of children, seeking the few friends she'd made, other children who lived near them. Parents crowded in a messy crescent around the outside of the garden, chatting with one another and pointing out which children were theirs. She leaned back against her husband and smiled – it was Shell's first day of school. He ran his fingers though her hair as they watched. Their little girl was almost six, dirty blonde and striking eyes, blue as the clearest water and flecked with gold. With her small frame and pixie-like face, Rae could see the Human perception of fairies reflected in her daughter.
Fairy education was much different that the schooling that Rae had grown up with: Michelle would be taught in regular classes up to a fifth grade level, but after that, what humans would consider core curriculum became scarce in the child's learning. Instead, the academy focused more on training. The classes were geared more towards physical training and developing knowledge of the tools used by Tooth Fairies. Rae would take it upon herself to teach Michelle about her second home, The Human plane, but for now she watched her little girl run off to school for the first time.
Shell looked over her shoulder at her parents and immediately came running back, realizing that other children's folks were leaving, failing to take the little ones with them. Her tiny legs carried her as fast as she could go and for a split second, it looked as if she were truly flying. Of course, her wings wouldn't grow in for another few years –Tracyhad promised her that the issues involved with rearing a little girl who had wings would be easily resolved. He did, after all, grow up with two winged sisters, both younger. He reassured her constantly that they would be able to take care of her, proper parents, don't worry yourself, that's the last thing you need.
Rae stooped as Michelle came running, throwing her tiny arms around her mother's neck and looking up at her father until he joined them on the ground, wrapping his unusually long arms around the both of them.
"You go find a seat," Rae whispered to her daughter. "You're going to have lots of fun, okay?" She could feel Shell's little hands tighten in her hair, not wanting to let go. EventuallyTracyremoved her from around his wife and picked her up, kissing her on the cheek before carrying her to the archway and setting her down in the crowd. She waved to her mother once and hugged her father's leg before running off to join her class.
Both parents hoped she'd make some good friends in that class – she would be with the same people until graduation, andTracy, of all people, knew what it was like to dislike your back to Rae, to see her jaw set, lips pressed together and a hand at her mouth. Her eyes were watery and he could tell she was trying her best. He moved around behind her and smiled, leaning down to whisper into her ear. "She's growing up, Rae. It'll be allright."
She sniffled and nodded. "All my life, I wondered why moms cry on their kid's first day of school." She said, her voice higher than usual. "Now I get it."
He kissed her cheek, snaking his arms around her and running his hands over the curve of her rounded belly. "You should get used to it; you're going to have to do it again, soon." He teased.