Chapter 63; Three Wounds

—Wanda's POV—

"There we go... nice and comfy now."

She offered him the warmest smile she could manage, using her magic to gently dry Timmy off, dress him in his fluffy pink night robe, and settle him into bed. She tucked the blankets securely around him, fluffing his pillow with practiced ease. He barely responded, his exhausted eyes blinking slowly, body still curled in on itself like he needed to make himself smaller, safer.

Her heart ached.

The three baby Appapuffs Nova had given him as pets immediately bounded onto the bed, burrowing into him as though their tiny bodies could shield him from whatever invisible threat had him trembling. They chirped and purred, their sweet, scented fur brushing against her skin as they rushed to nuzzled against her godson, desperate to comfort him.

Timmy responded sluggishly at first, but after a moment, his fingers curled around their soft forms, pulling them in close. He buried his face in their warm fur, inhaling deeply, grounding himself in their presence.

Nova had insisted these three stay with Timmy at all times—save for when they became too rowdy and disrupted his much-needed rest or studies. The way he had phrased it hadn't left room for negotiation. It had been an instruction, not a request.

"We must ensure he doesn't become entirely dependent on you for his sense of safety," Nova had told her, his expression leaving no room for argument. "I've spent time fostering his bond with the Companions, with Walter, with me. You are his primary source of comfort, but for him to regain balance, we need to gently guide him toward leaning on other supports as well."

His voice had been firm, his gaze sharp, and she had known that any protest on her part would need substantial justification if she wanted him to even entertain the idea of altering his approach.

But she hadn't fought him on it.

Not because she agreed, necessarily. The sight of those poor, tragic children-turned-animals made her stomach twist, and the knowledge that they had been allowed to 'grow' solely to be bred made her sick. But…

Timmy liked them.

He felt safe with them. And no matter what her own feelings on the matter were, she couldn't deny how his whole body had relaxed, if only for a moment, when they had rushed to greet him upon returning to the room. He was severely traumatized, barely clinging to his sense of reality, and yet, those three little fluff balls had managed to coax a small, fragile smile from him.

If they made him feel better, then that was what mattered.

"Oh, you three—you're still wet." She scolded gently, watching as the tiny creatures shook their damp fur. A quick poof later, a towel appeared, wrapping around them and drying them off as they chirped in contentment.

The Fey waters had done their job, soothing some of Timmy's aches and relaxing his mind, but she had opted for the jacuzzi instead of a proper bath. He wasn't ready to be left alone, and after the humiliating experience she'd put him through earlier—having to help him use the bathroom—she hadn't wanted to risk shattering what little dignity he had left.

So she had gotten into the water with him, hoping the presence of another body would make it easier. She had kept things light, following Nova's instructions—though it burned her to do so.

"Keep him entertained. Keep things fun. Only discuss the negative if Timmy initiates it."

Nova had spoken with all the severity of a parent instructing a babysitter on the strict dietary restrictions of a child with deadly allergies. The importance of it had been impressed upon her heavily, and while every instinct screamed at her to apologize, to explain, to do something to acknowledge what had happened—

She was terrified to do it.

Terrified that another misstep on her part would make things worse. That saying the wrong thing, at the wrong time, would push him deeper into his trauma. The faint Stigmata marking his wrists, and the barely-there one beginning to form around his neck, were proof of how fragile his condition was. Nova had assured her that there were measures to take if they worsened, but for now, the best thing she could do was keep him safe, relaxed, and content.

And she had tried.

She had poofed them into stylish swimwear, set the mood with upbeat music, even recreated the kind of glamorous pool parties she'd seen in movies—anything to lift his spirits.

But Timmy had barely responded to her attempts at making their time in the Jacuzzi 'fun.'

He had stayed close, leaning into her the entire time, his eyes dull and distant. His responses to anything outside of direct stimuli were sluggish at best. She could see it—the thoughts, the memories swirling behind his eyes, dragging him down into the pain he couldn't escape from.

She had failed to keep him entertained enough to chase the bad thoughts away.

Then, the Appapuffs had jumped into the jacuzzi.

"Oh, these guys...!"

The smallest chuckle had escaped him, weak but real. "Grandpa and I accidentally got them used to bathing in the hot springs at night, so now whenever they see someone taking a bath, they try to get in the water. Grandpa wouldn't let them in here or in the tub because they made too much of a mess. I thought he had managed to train them, but I guess they were just waiting until he was gone so they could misbehave…."

That they had deliberately gone against Nova's will the moment he wasn't there to enforce it had honestly endeared them to her.

Timmy had kept talking after that—about Cream, Cinna, and Miele, telling her even the most trivial details: how Miele always slept on her side, how Cream nibbled his fingers when she wanted attention, how Cinna was an impossibly picky eater. He had talked for no other reason than to keep his mind occupied, to avoid the thoughts lurking beneath the surface.

Under normal circumstances, she might have gently redirected him. But this was not normal circumstances.

So she let him talk, even when he began repeating himself, even when his words started to slow, growing sluggish with exhaustion.

Of course, Timmy, even in the state he was in, eventually realized he was repeating things. His voice had faltered, embarrassment creeping in as he mumbled an apology.

She had hushed him immediately, brushing a gentle hand through his damp hair. "I love hearing you talk, sweetie. Tell me more."

So he had. He had talked about Ginnie, Hector, and the other Companions, his voice growing softer and softer until finally, he had dozed off against her shoulder. She had let him rest for a while before carrying him out and settling him into bed, where they were now.

Timmy lay curled beneath the blankets, pale and fragile, but at least he was calm. His breathing was even, his grip on the Appapuffs loose but still present. He wasn't okay—not even close—but he was better than he had been earlier, when all he had been capable of was clinging to her and responding in monosyllables.

Nova had stayed with them, talking to Timmy until he had begun responding again. Her father-in-law had claimed it was more that the familiar room had helped make him feel safe and secure, rather then anything special he had done, but it still made her feel inadequate. Nova was helping...and she was the reason Timmy was in this state.

She had to do better! Timmy deserved better! He needed better from her!

She exhaled softly, brushing a hand over his forehead, vowing to do a better job at keeping him safe from now on.

"Are you comfortable, Sweetie?"

"Hm." Timmy nodded, reaching for her hand. When they had first gotten to the room, Timmy wouldn't let go of her. That had improved a little, but he still seemed to feel better when making physical contact, no matter how small.

She gently clasped his hand, letting his fingers curl around hers, offering him the quiet reassurance he sought. His grip was weak but insistent, as if afraid that if he let go, she might vanish.

"I'm right here," she murmured, rubbing soft circles over the back of his hand with her thumb. "I'm not going anywhere, Sweetie."

Timmy exhaled, slow and heavy, his body sinking further into the mattress. The tension in his fingers eased, but he didn't let go. She adjusted her position, shifting so she could lean against the headboard beside him. She didn't care if it was late, or if she would end up spending the whole night perched on the edge of his bed. If this was what he needed to feel safe, then so be it.

The Appapuffs had long since burrowed against him, their little bodies rising and falling with soft, rhythmic breaths. Miele had climbed onto his chest, tucking herself beneath his chin, while Cinna curled against his side. Cream had nestled on top of his head, turning his messy hair into a makeshift nest.

He looks peaceful, she thought, though she knew it was an illusion. Even now, his brows occasionally pinched, he shivered from both fear and cold, while his bottom lip occasionally trembled, as if he were about to cry.

She hated this. She hated how fragile he had become.

She wanted him to be himself again—to see him light up with laughter, to hear him make some ridiculous wish, to have him want to eagerly play. She wanted him to be happy. To be whole.

And it terrified her how far away that reality seemed.

With a heavy sigh, she ran her fingers lightly through his slightly damp hair, carefully untangling a few strands. "You should try to get some rest, Sweetie. When you wake up, we can have that special movie night you were so excited about."

Timmy didn't respond right away. His breathing had slowed, deepened—on the verge of sleep, but not quite there yet. Then, after a long pause, he murmured, "You won't leave while I'm sleeping?"

Her heart clenched.

"Of course I won't," she promised without hesitation, and then to prove her words to him, she poofed herself into her own night-robe and climbed into bed beside him, tucking an arm around him. "I'll be right beside you, sweetie."

He made a small sound, something between acknowledgment and relief, and finally allowed himself to drift off.

She remained still, watching the steady rise and fall of his chest, listening to the faint purring of the Appapuffs. She should rest too—close her eyes, recharge her magic—but she couldn't bring herself to go to sleep.

With how delicate he was right now, a part of her was just as scared as Timmy was that, if she looked away from him—he might vanish.

Physically, emotionally and mentally Timmy was suffering….and the worse thing was, that she did not know if he was going to be ok…

His condition was unique….unpredictable. Piper had warned her of that, but she had seemed so confident in her abilities to cure him, that what she was saying hadn't fully hit her—not until Thistledust, who was not involved in Timmy's medical treatments had mentioned how uncertain things were for Timmy that it truly dawned on her that the situation was more precarious than she had realized.

How much danger was Timmy actually in? What were his….odds?

Her eyes burned. She did not even want to think that way; the idea of her Timmy someday dying, even of old age was something that haunted her, let alone thinking that he could slip away from her at any moment!

And even if he survived physically, this latest treatment had shown her that there was the chance that, mentally and emotionally, the experience would leave him damaged.

…..Why was this happening? Didn't Timmy suffer enough at the hands of bullies, his parents and completely random strangers on the internet who had no better way to spend their time than posting cruel internet memes to mock a little boy they had never even met?

Why did all the bad things in the world seem to target her poor Timmy?

….Why did she have to ignore Piper's warnings and approach the Heart-Soul? She still did not blame it for what happened, it was just a baby taking a tantrum.

It was her fault.

She was the one who should have known better—after all; she had seen what it had done in the fun-house room to Cosmo, Poof and Jorgen….

If she hadn't Linked with her Anti-self, then she would have been responsible during their Mardi-Gras party and not overtaxed him. She would not have fallen asleep in the bath and given him a panic attack.

Timmy would have had the energy to proceed with his treatment as normal….a treatment that was supposed to have started to hurt a little less now that he had finished the first phase of it…

….She had messed up, and Timmy suffered for it. She closed her eyes, and the images of Timmy convulsing on the floor after his treatment played behind her eyelids with the explanation Nova had given her playing in her mind like a haunting voice over.

"He's in a state called medical PTSD—post-traumatic stress from everything his body has endured. When a person goes through extreme pain, their nervous system can become overwhelmed and the brain stays on high alert. That's why he's so emotionally raw right now."

Medical PTSD…and he had so many future treatments coming up, how would he manage to get through this experience without becoming irreversibly broken by it?

She did not want Timmy to…to change from who he was, even more than he had already.

She missed that energetic, mischievous, somewhat cynical little boy, who was playful and always full of imaginative ideas.

She wanted her plucky godson, who was selfish and irresponsible, but brave and always willing to make up for his mistakes, to come back.

….But she had failed to help him when he had needed it most. No. She had done worse. The help she had gave…backfired…and the boy she had known for over fifty years went to sleep deep down inside of himself; waking up only briefly from time to time…

However, the little boy that was left in his place was a very sincere, impossibly sweet and thoughtful child…but so timid and fragile…That delicate little boy who relied on her so much and who, in his love for her, constantly strived to make her happy—being more responsible, studying, and helping her with little chores….her little blue-eyed angel…

She had been hoping for the day to come when Timmy's old self and new self could combine, hopefully with the best traits from both—but now…she feared that her angel could end up going to sleep as well…

And who then would be in his place…?

In his sleep, Timmy inched as close as possible to her, nuzzling his head into her side, both his hands clutching her arm in a hug, as if she were a teddy bear.

She had caused all this pain with her mistake….and yet, he was seeking comfort from her. It made her feel guilty and yet, it eased her heart as it seemed to promise her another chance to do things right. To make things up to Timmy, to—undo the mistakes she made.

"—It is deeply unfortunate, but the past neglect Timmy has experienced is making matters so much worse.' The memory of the diagnoses Nova gave her continued to pour into her memories as she gazed down at the resting face of Timmy—thankful for the first time that his ability to dream had been taken from him, or else he'd likely dream of what had happened..

"You see, my dear, when a child grows up feeling emotionally unsupported, their brain wires itself differently. They don't learn how to feel safe on their own because safety was never a guarantee. Furthermore, the abuse he sustains from his babysitter when left by his parents has subconsciously learned him that being alone means being unprotected. Now, in his weakest state, his mind and his entire body is telling him 'If I'm alone, I won't survive.' You see, when someone is this vulnerable, their brain doesn't care about logic. All he can think about is survival."

A little boy this young shouldn't be worrying about 'surviving.' Timmy was only twelve…well, 62 if you counted those fifty years of frozen time, but really, just a child….

She had, of course, known about the Turner's neglect and Vicky's abuse; that was why she and Cosmo had been assigned to Timmy, but…she had never really looked into the deeper, psychological effects that the abuse could have had on him.

She hadn't even thought all that deeply about it; convinced because of Timmy's personality type that he was a simple, straightforward child who could easily be cheered up with trinkets and fun.

She was a Class C god parent…..she was just supposed to provide some amusement and give a little happiness; not deal with complex psychological issues.

…But she hadn't become a godmother with the desire to be Class C; she had wanted to be Class A. She had studied for that, had dreamed of that…and yet, when her Class C godchild's problems evolved into a Class A case, she hadn't been up to snuff.

And because of that failure, all she could do now was listen to her overbearing father-in-law explain things to her about the boy who she loved like he was her own son. Things that upon hearing them, made her feel foolish and blind for not having seen them for herself.

It made her feel completely inadequate and stupid, maybe even worthless.

"In the state he's in now, the distress he feels when you try to leave isn't just in his head—it's a full-body panic response and it's being fueled by his ADHD which is causing him to hyper fixate on his recent traumatic experience. Right now, his brain and body are reacting as if being alone is actually dangerous. That is why, when you're holding him, he calms down. Your presence signals safety. It's grounding him. But when you leave, it feels like losing the only thing keeping him safe. His body is convinced that something awful will happen if he's alone. It's not a conscious decision—his nervous system is just stuck in panic mode. He may start going back to his normal behavior once he calms down, or he may not; regardless of which, the trauma will be present and will require delicate care."

Her heart ached just thinking about what it was that her poor Timmy was going through. Things were already so bad for him, but he had done his best to push through—he fought hard, he was her brave boy and yet….her own clumsiness had put him into a literal hell he wasn't able to climb out of.

If only she could take his pain and fears onto her self and relieve him of them—if only she could feel his suffering in his place—and maybe if he wished for it, she could, but Timmy wouldn't do that and Da Rules would not allow him to inflict such a level of pain on another mortal person as they could potentially not survive it, but how fair would it be if they could just transfer all this pain and suffering to someone who deserved it, like Vicky, who had caused this tragedy!

"The best thing you can do right now is stay close and be predictable. Keep things calm, familiar, and safe. Let him curl up next to you, let him feel your warmth. Don't force him to separate before he's ready, because right now, he physically can't handle that. He's not going to be like this forever, but right now, he needs to know—deep down—that you're not leaving him. That no matter how weak or vulnerable he is, you're still here."

But she couldn't give his pain to herself or to someone else; all she could do was try to help him endure….

She looked at his sleeping face, and soothed back his hair, watching as he snuggled up closer to her. The room was quiet now, save for their soft breathing and the purring of those three fuzzy critters that were curled up on top of Timmy as if to protect him in his sleep.

She knew sleep wouldn't come easily for her, no matter how tired she was.

How could it? Every time she closed her eyes, she saw all the ways she had failed him.

Piper was right; she had let her emotions overtake her, she had been weak when she should have been strong. She had cried, feeling sorry for him, feeling sorry for herself, and had ended up making things worse. Timmy was relying on her to protect him, to keep him safe—to be his pillar of strength, but despite all her love, care and good intentions—she had ended up making things harder for him.

….Just like before.

And now—now he was curled into himself, small and fragile in her arms, his small hands seeking her in his sleep as if afraid she'd disappear.

"And when he does start to feel stronger, we can help him rebuild that sense of safety—slowly, in a way that doesn't re-traumatize him. But for now? The best thing you can do is simply be there. Let him feel safe with you. Right now, that's the most powerful medicine he could have."

She exhaled, pulling him just a little closer, pressing the faintest of kisses against his temple.

"I'll be right here," she whispered again, more to herself than to him.

And she would be. No matter how long it took. No matter how much she had to make up for.

Because this time, she wouldn't let him down.

— Theo's POV—

"Hey, Foxy—how are you feeling?" Siofra his Fey mother came up the stairs to peek in on him, Rosebud was with her.

Theo lifted himself onto his elbows; his head was still hurting and he was still a bit flushed with fever, but he was feeling better than earlier. He had started taking sick a little while after his snack at the Enchanted Toadstool. Perhaps something about Gin's new drink hadn't agreed with him? Sure tasted good though.

Eleanor, one of his two best friends almost pouted, seeing her Fey Mother, not because they did not get along; no, Eleanor only had good things to say about Rosebud but, she knew that his Fey Mother and her Fey Mother did not hang out, so the only reason for Rosebud to be here was to fetch her.

Eleanor hated leaving him when he was sick; not that he got sick often…well, maybe once in awhile because he couldn't help but gorge himself on Coramelons. Piper was always scolding him not to eat them in excess, but he just couldn't help it.

Maybe that's why Gin's drink had made him sick; it obviously had Coramelons in it, and he had just snuck a few in the forest, even though Siofra and Finch were always telling him to only eat the Coramelons they gave to him.

Though…this sick feeling was different from the way he usually felt after eating too much Fey Fruit; but neither Siofra or Finch looked overly worried and he was already beginning to feel better so he was sure that it was nothing serious.

….Not like poor Edmund.

"I'm ok….but, how's Ed? He's going be ok, right?" He questioned, worried.

"Did you get rid of that mean stupid creature who did it?" Eleanor fumed.

"Now, now Elle, Darling." Rosebud wagged her finger. "Lilithree is not 'mean' or 'stupid' or a 'creature,' she's a six year old Kinderkin—"

"She ripped off Edmund's wing!" Eleanor protested with a little stomp of her foot.

Eleanor had been sitting with him for awhile, keeping him company. They played some card games, and threw a ball at the hoop Siofra and Finch had installed on the wall across from his bed. It was cool because the ball always magically returned to your hands when you clapped, so you did not have to keep getting out of bed to fetch it.

His room was up in a loft; the walls, a mix of smooth wood and natural stone, curved in places as if shaped by the hands of the forest itself. The beams above were thick with creeping vines, their green tendrils thick and alive, coiling through the rafters. His bed was formed from layers of vegetation and grass, and shelves carved into the walls of his small room were lined with toys.

A twisting flight of moss covered steps led down to the combination kitchen and living room which had an open, inviting feeling to it, despite being a little messy.

The stone hearth crackled with a soft fire, and shelves made from tree trunks were filled with various jars of dried herbs, meats and preservatives, as well as various carvings. These were all Finch's hobby; while the pottery and sewing that was Siofra's hobby decorated the home; neither were well done, but they made the house feel like a home.

Siofra's first creation, a worn rug of mismatched colors lay by the hearth where they each had a chair by the fireplace; the chairs took each of their own preference in mind so the styles and colors did not go together, but sitting by the hearth with his Fey Parents was something he always enjoyed.

There was only one window in the house, a large one by the sink, with a view that overlooked the village square; at night, he could see all the fireflies of Kinders who passed on, come out of their tiny houses and rejoin their Fey families for the night.

The house was both cozy and earthy, nothing fancy and most people wouldn't be impressed by it; but he loved it.

The Fey could make their homes any size they wanted them to be; but he liked this simple, small style of house. As a human he remembered thinking that he wanted to live in a palace, and when he first became a Kinder that was what Siofra and Finch had given him but…

Too much space meant a feeling of separation. He liked feeling close to his godparents, now his Fey-Parents…his only real parents. A small home as a human meant being constantly exposed to his parents arguments, his mother's tears and his father's drinking. It meant seeing his sister…

….

"Foxy?" Siofra was quick to go to his side and he shook his head; trying to chase the blurry memory away.

"I was just recalling how shocked I was when all that noise started out side and Finch came up to tell us what was going on. I can't believe poor Ed got his wing ripped right off like that! Were you able to pick enough berries to help him?"

"Oh yes, of course we did!" Siofra messed up his hair. "Snow Berries aren't hard to find. Did Finch take good care of you while I was off doing that?"

"You know I did!" His Fey father called from downstairs. He could almost see him sitting in his favorite chair, smoking a pipe, as he read a book.

"Oh well, you say you take good care of him and then I always come back to a mess! Remember the time he wished that his father was a beefeater? You turned him into a man who was so obsessed with beef that he tried to eat cows while they were still alive!"

He put his hands to his mouth, laughing. Most of his human life was blurry from the passage of time, but he could remember all the time he spent with his god parents clearly.

They had always treated him so well, and had loved him enough to claim him as their own—taking him far away from a world where he had been called a 'Mudlark,' where he, and many other poor children scavenged for scraps of metal, old iron and other valuables along the Thames River to sell to metal dealers and scrap merchants. He'd make 1 to 3 pence a day, enough to bring home a loaf of bread…and hope his father wasn't drunk and surly enough to claim it all for himself.

He hadn't been sad to leave home and his humanity behind; even if he managed to survive the poverty and grow up; he wouldn't of had much to look forward too—he'd likely continue having to scavenge for a living…and risk dying, as many of his friends had from the polluted waters as searching for scrap metals inevitably led to fatally infected cuts.

Or maybe he'd be a dockworker like his dad where the work was long, grueling and full of danger ranging from poor working conditions, to unstable and dangerous cargo, crime and exposer to all kinds of diseases such as cholera, dysentery and typhoid fever.

Then again, he could have grown up to work in a factory like his mother had, laboring away in a textile mill—until an accident with one of the steam-powdered machines rendered her unable to continue working.

…Yeah; there had been nothing to keep him in the human world; at best, he'd have grown up, toiled away, working the rest of his life just to survive; perhaps married a girl from a similar background, who'd help him labor for a living and maybe they'd have kids—a few of them would likely die from disease or hunger—like a few of his siblings had—and the ones who survived would, like him, be Mudlarks searching dirty water for bits of metal, or resorting to petty crime.

….Maybe one of his kids would've gotten their hands cut off like poor Edmund had. He and Ed, had lived in the same country, in the same area, with a few decades separating them. Their circumstances had been identical, decades had brought no change.

There wouldn't likely be any change by the time had grew and had children, and he'd be forced to watch them struggle as he had, unable to do anything about it.

….What if he, out of despair, turned to the bottle and the opium, like his father had?

He was so happy Siofra and Finch had taken him away. He did miss his sister…but…she had married and moved on without him….living a happy life.

"—Right Theo? Theo!" Eleanor frowned and nudged him; apparently she had been talking while he had been spacing out.

"Oh, Foxy—you always get spacey when your sick." Siofra messed with his hair a little more.

"I was saying—that Kinderkin needs to be punished! You agree, right, Theo?" Eleanor pressed her face close to his with a pout, her gaze telling him that if he did not agree, he'd have to go through a great many steps to have her forgive him.

"Ella, now, now my Darling—Lilithree can't help it. Her body…she has the strength of a mammoth but the brain of a six year old. She was really only wanting to touch the wing because she thought it looked pretty. She is awfully distressed by what she did." Rosebud tsked, saving him from having to answer.

"If she's so strong, she might hurt someone else," He added, getting Eleanor to flash him a smile, despite him not actually having come out and agreed that the Kinderkin ought to be gotten 'rid of.'

"Oh, fear not, fear not; Piper has put her in a basement room and Gizmo and Dazzle reinforced it. We will keep her there until we know what to do with her." Rosebud reassured and Siofra laughed.

"Aw, are you scared Theo? Don't worry, Finch and I will keep our foxy safe."

"N-no! I'm not scared!" He pouted, his cheeks heating. Siofra liked to tease him, but he wished she wouldn't do it in front of Eleanor. "But—what if she's a spy, sent to find out how best to kidnap us? Or an escaped freak from Queen Niamh's Circle? If we keep her here, Queen Niamh might come here to look for her…"

"Queen Niamh's scary!" Eleanor clutched Rosebud's skirts.

"Queen Niamh's Freaks all have tracking collars and this one doesn't; don't you worry about that, Darling. Lilithree was most likely dropped off by a peddler because none of the Fair-Folk wanted her. She is admittedly frightful enough that Queen Niamh would love to get her hands on her, but….hopefully we can find an alternative life for her."

"Do you want to see what she looks like later?" Siofra teased. "Or are you too scared?"

"I—I'll go see her and demand she give Edmund an apology!" He clenched his fists, wanting to look brave to Eleanor, while casting Siofra a look that said that she better be there with him when he did, to prevent the Kinderkin from ripping off his tail or ears.

"Well, how about going to a party instead, if you're feeling well enough for it?" Siofra offered, and seeing his blank look, finger flicked his forehead. "Remember, Nova promised a party for all you Kinders that did not get to go to the tea-party to meet Timmy."

"He really made something ridiculous though." Rosebud put her fingers to her temples. "I know he's all for grand gestures and over the top performances, but, my oh my—!"

"Nova's been screwy since his daughter-in-law and Timmy showed up." Siofra shrugged with a sigh. "Well, can't blame him I guess, it is an awful business. Still, he needs to get his head back on straight. He really crossed some lines. I hate to see him get in trouble though, even though I can admit that he had acted ass-enough for a punishment; but I like Nova." His Fey-mom messed with his fox ears, wiggling them and making him squirm. "Because of him, Finch and I get to stay with our Theo forever."

He liked Uncle Nova a lot too; because of what he did, he did not need to live a hopeless life with a dismal future and he got to stay with his godparents forever! It was like a dream come true….

"Well, now, should we all head over to the party? It seems like it will be an awful lot of fun for you little Darlings." Rosebud tilted her head towards the steps.

"Think you're well enough, Theo?"

"….I…" He hesitated. "I….do feel well enough, but….I don't feel right going there if Edmund's hurt and can't go."

The very idea of leaving someone behind when they were hurt and suffering chaffed him. The very thought of going off and making himself happy, while leaving someone he cared for behind—knowing they'd be sad, just….made him sick.

He did not know why he felt so strongly about it. He had no trauma related to that. His parents hadn't really loved him, not much and his sister had moved out and married….he hadn't really left them behind. His sister had moved on and his parents had already seemed to have forgotten he was alive; his father in an alcohol or opium induced stupor, or his mom, too caught up in her own difficulties to pay mind to anything else.

He wasn't even sure if they even realized it when he had disappeared…so he hadn't left behind anyone, especially not someone who was suffering…so he did not know why he felt so strongly about it.

"If Theo won't go. I won't." Eleanor crossed her arms and sat on his bed. Rosebud and Siofra exchanged looks and then smiles.

"Aw, such a loyal Foxy."

"Oh, how cute! You three really are our little musketeers; all for one and one for all, we understand, you little Darlings. Once Edmund is all better, we'll be sure to throw you three a special little party."

"But for now, I'm sure Finch can come up with something fun for us to do while I go make us some dinner." Siofra gave him the kind of smile he had always wished his birth mother would have given him, at least once. "I'll even make it by hand, so that it tastes extra special for my sweet little Foxy."

He watched as Siofra and Rosebud headed downstairs and nudged Eleanor.

"Are you sure? You love parties."

"I'm sure!" She proclaimed, head held up high, but the look of longing in her eyes told him that if he were to change his mind, she'd come along with him in a heart-beat. "Uncle Nova will just need to throw us a gigantic party in honor of Edmund's recovery! Anyway—-!" She leaned in close in order to whisper. "If you not well enough, I can go get it tomorrow for you."

He blinked, confused. "Get….what?"

Eleanor pursed her lips, and in an angry gesture pinched his ear, making him squirm. "Hey! We sneaked into the Grove of the Tree Mothers and risked getting into big trouble just so you could ask Jorgen to bring the picture of your sister tomorrow, and you forgot?"

A picture of his…..?

He held onto his head as a sharp pain flashed through his brain; that's right! How did he forget….? After he got sick, his mind had gotten really fuzzy…maybe he had lost a few hours of memory…? Weird.

"That's right. I…I had forgotten her name, so…I asked Jorgen to bring a picture so I could see if…the face I'm remembering was really hers…."

….He had been a Kinder for thousands of years; it was normal for his memory to become fuzzy, but….he had never thought he'd forget his sister; she had been the one light in his human life…and he had promised her that….

….He furrowed his brows.

"What's wrong?" Eleanor nudged him.

"I….can't remember."

"Remember what?"

"A promise…I remember I made a promise to Agnes—no, Agatha —" He corrected himself; he had misremembered her name for so, so long…. "But I can't remember?"

"Does it even matter now?" Eleanor hunched her shoulders and jumped off the bed. "Everyone we knew as humans is long gone by now."

"No….I guess….it doesn't."

"Come on, cheer up." Eleanor kept her voice low, but lowered it even further. "If your worried, I'll pick up the picture tomorrow and pass it to you so Siofra and Finch don't find out."

"Thanks." He smiled at her, grateful. He loved his Fey Parents and they had given him a perfect life here, but if there was one thing he did not like, it was that….they never let him talk about his sister….but maybe that was because, whenever he did think about her too much…his heart really ached.

Aelar's POV

"Edmund, hey there, time to wake up." Aelar called softly, giving the boy's good wing a gentle shake.

His Kinder, never one to wake gracefully, furrowed his brows and mumbled something incoherent—something about finishing his cake. Probably dreaming of food again.

Aelar chuckled. His little Eddie loved to eat, and he loved feeding him. But if he gave him sweets too often, the excitement dimmed. He preferred the way Edmund's face lit up when he had been made to wait—a day or two without treats, and then, suddenly, a great big surprise waiting for him at home. The sheer delight in those bright eyes made it all worth it.

His gaze flickered to Lillixia, who stood quietly behind him, her hands clasped demurely, her head slightly bowed, cheeks tinged pink. He glanced away quickly, certain that if he looked too long, his own cheeks would heat as well.

He could conjure food, but he was more an artist than a cook, and while his creations were beautiful, he could never quite tell if they tasted as good as they looked. Lillixia, on the other hand, had a true gift for baking—everything she made, she made by hand, no magic, just skill.

She had baked plenty of treats for the party Nova was throwing tonight, but since Edmund wouldn't be able to attend, she had made a few special sweets just for him.

Edmund was resting in a room at the clinic, but Piper had fixed these rooms to be easily altered to suit whatever made a Fey-Parent's Kinder feel most at ease. He and Lillixia had worked together to transform the sterile space into a dream-like confectionery wonderland.

The walls were painted in soft pastels, swirled like the inside of a candy shell, and the air was sweet with the scent of vanilla and caramel. Delicate sugar-spun vines trailed along the ceiling, glimmering like spun glass. A bed of plush marshmallow cushions cradled Edmund, and above him, a canopy of lacy frosting draped like spun silk. Floating orbs of warm golden light bobbed around the room like sugar pearls suspended in the air, adding a gentle glow.

Given Piper's usual sweet-themed decorating tendencies, she would probably approve of how they had made over the room—but he was mad at her right now, so he would have done it even if she hadn't.

"Ed…." He called again, but Edmund only grumbled and tried to roll over—though it was more of a sluggish wiggle, considering his newly reattached wing was secured in a sling.

"Oh, umm, I think he might need a little more rest…" Lillixia murmured, sounding worried.

"Nah," He stated with confidence, straightening up. "As soon as he gets a whiff of the frosting, he'll wake up. I know my Eddie!"

He turned and retrieved a cupcake from a nearby table, a truly decadent masterpiece.

The cupcake was enormous, almost comically so, its base wrapped in an intricate golden filigree liner. The cake itself was a deep chocolate, rich and moist, and topped with a towering swirl of whipped frosting—marbled pink and white, like strawberry cream clouds. Shimmering sugar crystals dusted the frosting, catching the light like crushed gemstones. At the very peak sat a delicate spun sugar butterfly, its wings so thin and translucent they looked as though they might flutter away at any moment.

He grinned. "I can't wait to see the look on his face when he wakes up a sees this!"

"I, well, put a lot of work into it." Lillixia twiddled her fingers, shuffling her foot, her head was still down but a slight smile crept onto her lips. "I know how much Edmund loves my cooking…he um…once told me that I cook like a mother…or at least…the kind of mother he would like to have."

"Hm. Yeah, Edmund's mother never did much cooking. I don't think she would have, even if she'd had the ingredients. I'm grateful Nova managed to get him out of that place. Thistledust was right… my Ed wouldn't have had any chance at happiness if he had stayed human…"

The thought struck a chord deep within him, for he, too, had known the feeling of feeling helpless and powerless to ever find any form of happiness. Lillixia sighed, looking downcast. Perhaps she was feeling sympathy for his Kinder, she was such a nice girl.

Edmund awoke, groggy at first and then, his eyes snapped open seeing the cup cake, and he shot up in bed, wincing at the pain in his freshly attached wing.

"Cake!"

"Hehe, oh, silly thing—I knew you'd wake with the smell of frosting." He drew the cup cake back, fearing the boy might be so eager he'd stick his head in it. Lillixia tip toed behind him and daintily offered a fork before taking her place across from him, sitting on the other side of the bed, staring down at her feet.

"Daddy Aelar, Aunty Lillixia! What happened….oh yeah, owe, hahaha." Edmund winced and then forced a laugh, even as some tears sprang to the corners of his eyes. "That was….really scary and really painful."

"I'm so sorry, Edmund….it's, um…my fault. I should have waited to talk with Candy….I just…got so emotional that I….oh, I really am sorry." Lillixia apologized.

"Whose Candy?" Was Edmund's response to Lillixia's apology, tilting his head, confused.

"That's Piper's original name, silly." He poked Edmund's squishy little cheeks. "I told you that so many times, you forgetful little thing!"

"Oh yeah! Haha, I forgot! She looks more like a Piper then a Candy!"

"Your not upset with me…um, are you Edmund?" Lillixia asked earnestly, gingerly touching Edmund's injured wing. "Does it hurt bad…?"

She was as sweet as the things she baked, he thought, admiring her.

She liked to make beautiful things that gave comfort through taste; while he liked to make beautiful things that could be admired with the eyes. Lilixia was beautiful to look at too….such a graceful girl, as dainty as a flower with beautiful manners. He could call every aspect of her beautiful….except for when she cried; but everyone was allowed a few flaws, something too perfect wasn't beautiful.

"It hurts, but not too much. And, really, its ok, Aunty! But if you really feel bad, you can give me a great big kiss right here!" Edmund reassured, batting his eyes at Lillixia as he pointed to his cheek. With a laugh Lillixia complied with a bird-like peck.

Lucky little Edmund!

He was, however happy that his Kinder liked Lillixia too—not in the same way he liked her, of course….but like a loving big sister, maybe? In any case, he was pretty sure that Edmund would easily adapt to having her around their home….

…..Of course, he could only day dream of it; the sad truth was that, this evening, watching over Edmund had been the longest time they had ever spent alone together.

He just wasn't any good at talking to girls and Lillixia….she was so sweet and kind to everyone, what if all she thought of him was a friend and he made a fool of himself by asking her to court him? He had made a fool of himself many times in his days spent living as a human. What if he did it again by completely misreading the situation?

Simpleton, backwards, dullard, imbecile; he had heard them all.

There had been a girl he had been madly in love with once, when he still lived as a human. A lovely girl who treated him with kindness and compassion and he had been positive she had affection for him….when in truth she was only pitying him.

Maybe Lillixia was just pitying him too—because, even among the Fey he received the same insults about his intelligence.

"Daddy Aelar, am I going to be ok?" Edmund looked over at him, or tried to, his attention got grabbed by the giant cupcake he was still holding.

Edmund always looked at him like he was smart and knew everything; the boy made him feel very capable and he tried to be responsible by teaching him right from wrong….though, when Edmund misbehaved it was really just too cute.

"You'll be fine." He held a fork full of cupcake out to him and Edmund eagerly took it into his mouth; chubby cheeks glowing. It was so hard to believe that when the boy had first came to Fey World he had been skin and bones.

He always choose chubby Kinder forms for Edmund whenever he made a new body for him; a look as far away as possible from the emaciated figure he had come here as.

Looking at that painfully skinny body hadforced him to recall such bad memories of his own time as a human.

Starving was painful.

"Once your feeling better, I'll make you a new body, one with hands, but you'll need to promise not to steal anything."

"Promise!" Edmund swore, looking extremely happy; but he knew he'd break that promise. Theo and Eleanor would put him up to doing a prank and he had no backbone to refuse.

….Just like him when he had been human. Other kids, and adults too had taken advantage of his 'simpleness' to get him to do bad things, knowing that if they twisted their words right, he wouldn't even realize he was doing bad.

He chuckled, wiping frosting from Edmund's mouth. "Such a messy boy! so, tell us, how do you like your room? Lillixia and I fixed it up for you; I think we did a great job together! Since Piper loves sweet-themed decorations herself, I'd be really surprised if she doesn't keep it this way."

"Oh, p-please don't mention her right now…." Lillixia squirmed. "I don't even want to think about how terrible things went….I feel just so awful!"

"I'm sorry…" His cheeks turned red; he had thought it would be ok since Lillixia had just spoken about Piper herself in her apology to Edmund, but apparently mentioning the name had been a bad idea. He did not understand why, but he wasn't a good thinker.

"Aunty Piper is just sad; my mom was like her—when she was sad, she acted mad. I'm sure whatever Aunty Piper said to you, Aunty Lillixia, that she did not mean it." Edmund tried to reassure Lillixia, who looked down at her feet, awkwardly.

He gritted his teeth. He hoped that not too many of Edmund's memories of his human life had gotten dragged up. How many of the memories he had painstakingly blurred had been restored to him because of what happened?

Oh well, at least his 'Attachment' had remained shrouded….several times he had almost recalled—her— the person he must not recall under any circumstances.

It was true what Piper said, that he might not have read up too much about Kinders beyond the basic care, but he did know that nearly every Kinder had one strong attachment to their former human life; and that, if they recalled it—-they could end up breaking.

That's why he couldn't let Edmund remember that girl….

….Even though it had been what made him love Edmund so much that he had wanted him as a Kinder, even though before having met him, he had never really fancied one; thought it would be too hard to care for.

He still remembered when Edmund-who then was little more than a little bag of skin and bones had came to Fey world, and he, by a draw of lots was put in charge of giving the Trial of the Forest.

He had been so sure that Edmund wouldn't be able to make it through, not with how hungry he looked and how skinny he was….

Truth was, Edmund had stolen some snow berries from the entrance, and had shoved them into his pocket…..but the rule was technically not to eat them, and fair enough he hadn't…

….He had wanted to bring them home.

To her.

Of course, Edmund never got back 'home,' instead he had been given a new home—a much happier one.

"…Candy, she always acts mad….but, your right, she will always hide it when she's sad. I….I really should have been more delicate about things….despite how she acts, I do know Piper loved her mother….and yet, I was so hysterical, I just blurted out lots of stuff and…" Lillixia dabbed the corners of her eyes with a handkerchief.

"Piper isn't like my mom; I'm sure if you say your sorry, she'll forgive you." Edmund looked from Lillixia, to him. "Anyway, wasn't Uncle Nova throwing a party tonight?"

"Yes, but, Piper says you need to stay in bed."

"Awwww!" Edmund looked crushed and he ruffled his feathery hair.

"Don't be like that; look around, we made you your own sweets party."

"Yeah, but Uncle Nova's parties have games and shows and….lots of stuff! The food here looks good, but….what else is there? I want to have fun too!"

"Spoiled." He chided, affectionately tugging on one of his feathers.

"Your very weak right now, but umm….maybe we can tell you a story?" Lillixia suggested. "Um…Aelar, h-how about you tell us a story a-about when you were a human? I'd like to know more about you—I—um, I mean, more about what life was like for you Changeseeds. It is…very interesting to hear about…."

"Oh, yeah! I wanna hear about daddy Aelar's life as Billy Bob!" Edmund snorted and he felt his cheeks go red.

What an embarrassing story to tell to the girl he had a crush on and to the boy he had been raising to look up to him; but….he couldn't turn down a request from Lillixia….

"Ok…." He took a deep breath. "Well, er….this is the story of a boy named Billy Bob…"

Edmund snorted, and he rose a brow at him, making his Kinder place his good wing over his mouth as he tried to subdue a laugh, but failed. Was Billy Bob really such a bad name….? Who was he kidding? It really was.

"Ahem! This here is a story about a boy named Billy Bob." He cleared his throat, his cheeks turning redder. "He was born in the late 1700s, in a small farm town in Virginia. It wasn't much, just a place where folks worked hard to get by. His mama was Margaret—only nineteen, simple-minded, and not much to speak of. Her family was the same way—backwards, unrefined, and just plain odd. People in town didn't think much of them, and mostly tried to avoid getting mixed up with them."

Truth was, his mother's family was known for cousin marriage and was pretty much looked down on in the community as being nothing more than a bunch of backwards and unrefined folk, who all had a 'strangeness' to them.

He wasn't going to tell that part to Edmund and Lillixia however.

"Margaret, however, was a very religious girl. She prayed several times a day, every single day, without fail. She couldn't read, but she always carried a small Bible—a family heirloom—wherever she went. She truly believed that one day, her faith would bring her a blessing.

One evening, while fetching water from the well, she came across a man—an impossibly beautiful man. There was something otherworldly about him, too perfect to be real. She yielded to him, and by morning, she woke up in her own bed, the stranger gone. She figured it must have been a dream."

Lillixia blushed, looking away with her cheeks burning red, but a small smile on her face, while Edmund rose his brows and couldn't hide his smirk—an innocent child he was, but—one who lived in a one room house with parents who had a very active sex life, so he knew very well what 'yield' meant.

Honestly, he had censored it more for Lillixia's sake than Edmund's.

"Eventually, Margaret realized she was pregnant. Since the only intimate encounter she'd ever had was in a dream, she became convinced she was the next Virgin Mary. In a feverish excitement, she announced it to the entire community.

People had always seen her as a bit of a joke—a foolish, backward girl who believed in old superstitions and spoke of strange things as if they were real. But nothing compared to this. Now, she was claiming she was about to give birth to the next Messiah."

"Oh my!" Lillixia put a hand to her mouth.

"You must have gotten picked on a lot!" Edmund cringed and he sighed.

He had been more then just 'picked on' because his mother's foolish claims.

"Anyway, everyone in town was sure that some rascal had taken advantage of the 'poor stupid girl.' My grandparents were, of course, ashamed. But Margaret? She refused to let go of the idea that she was the next Virgin Mary." He rolled his eyes.

Sure, she was his mother but he did not remember her very well, mostly he had grew up being taunted with the stories about her and honestly, he resented her….feeling that he was viewed as foolish as he was, because he was her son.

"The Fey who took advantage of that poor girl was shameless…." Lillixia murmured, cheeks burning. "I, um…know that many Fey did have…um…night time…meetings… with humans but to take advantage of a girl who was—-um….so…..innocent…was r-really not right."

"Never found out who he was." He confessed, feeling a little disheartened. He knew 'innocent,' was just another word for 'foolish,' but Lillixia was too nice to say something like that. He hoped….she did not think he was as foolish as his mother had been.

"Never? Aren't you curious? I, um…think you could likely find him if you, wanted to try…I, um…could maybe help?" Lillixia offered, but he shook his head.

"Not really interested, to be honest. I know a lot of Fey during the Dark Days liked to mess with humans. They usually went for the better ones, but maybe he just seduced a girl like my mother on a dare or something." He shrugged. "And if he really fancied her, doesn't say much about his taste in things."

"Daddy Aelar, that's not nice!" Edmund protested with a gasp, using his good wing to give his arm a little slap.

"Edmund's right." Lillixia chided gently, but with a soft smile. "She's your mother, you should speak with a little more respect."

"That I can actually admit to being the son of that loon is all the respect she's getting from me!" He laughed. "The people in the community mocked and pitied her, but Margaret didn't care. In her mind, she was carrying a divine child—one whose birth would change the world. Despite all the ridicule, she kept saying her son would be a miraculous gift, destined for something greater than any ordinary child.

Of course, when Billy Bob turned out to be… well, normal, everyone laughed and held her claims against him. Margaret was so mortified that she threw herself into the well."

"Oh!" Lillixia gasped, with pity.

His mother did not deserve pity. He hadn't went into full details, but after he failed to live up to her expectations; his mother became convinced instead that she had been seduced by the devil; after putting him through torture to 'snuff out the sin she made,' she decided to cleanse herself and the world by taking them both into the pits of hell and had thrown him into the well first before jumping in herself.

He had miraculously survived—but that only fueled the rumors about him in the community; with many convinced he really might have been sired from some demonic entity.

He…did not want to talk about that though…especially not to Lillixia and Edmund.

He tugged at his collar. "A-anyway! Um, well... Billy Bob's grandparents begrudgingly raised him. He never really escaped the rumors and gossip about his mother. People often called him 'fool's child' or 'the devil's spawn.'

One day, the other kids caught him, tied him to a plank of wood, and shoved some barbed wire on his head—then left him in the woods. You know, the whole 'Messiah' thing..."

"Oh, how awful—!" Lillixia tried to reach for his hand, but he shyly kept it out of reach. Edmund cast him a dry look that seemed to say 'really?', but he ignored it.

"They forgot about me, and I stayed like that for weeks—starving. I was—eventually found by some Fey, curious about why I'd been left there like that. They discovered I was a Changeseed and they decided to return me to live among my kin."

A bitter taste filled his mouth, and much to Edmund's protest he stole a fork full of his cupcake.

There was much more to his story then that, but….he did not want to go into those details.

….He couldn't.

They still hurt to much for him to relive.

It had been thousands, upon thousands of years since then….but some emotional scars never healed enough to speak of….they always remained, hidden away unseen, but always there.