Chapter Text
Years had come and gone, and Tommy was no longer a clueless child. As he grew, he had come to realize how vague his promise was. He hadn’t been aware of how long into the future he’d be sparing his time to the magickal trio. It wasn’t bad, far from, but it consumed his life entirely at times.
Initially, when he shared his stories of the fae, he was met with gentle coos. He was just a small child with an extremely active imagination, as far as anyone was concerned.
Tommy was older now, baby fat almost gone and childish charm had faded many moons ago. He had since learned that people did not appreciate his tales, they only served to start mass unrest among the community, at the worse, he had heard whispers of a golden haired changeling. It hadn’t taken long to realize they were speculating about him.
So he learned to hold his tongue, and the rumours had petered out.
At first, he had tried to avoid the little clearing he had found as a child, but anytime any one of them wanted him, there was an undeniable pull. It wasn’t pleasant to be at their beck and call, he had a life of his own, but the trio had become somewhat of a makeshift family over time.
This time when he follows the pull it’s Wil, the poet. “Sunshine!” He greets, flashing his too straight, too wrong teeth in an imitation smile. “Oh, won’t you sit by me today?” He asks, patting the spot next to him in the fairy ring.
“That’s cheap trickery for you, wordsmith. Paint your words pretty for me and maybe I’ll consider it.” He wouldn’t consider it, he loved everything back home far too much to give it up, but Wil’s laughter filling the air was worth the lie.
“Gremlin child,” the fae taunts, leaping up from his spot and sauntering over to where Tommy stood. “Shall we take a walk then? If you aren’t ready to join us just yet.” They both knew Tommy would never be ready to join them, the only way he’d go with them was if he ever slipped up.
Tommy had years of experience though, it would never happen. “Where to this time?”
“You tell me, Adventurer.” In all the years, Tommy had never given another nickname. Most of the time, the fae tended to stick to saccharine pet names they had come up with, but occasionally, if the situation called for it, he was Adventurer.
It never failed to make him smile, as much of a conundrum it was that he found himself in, he was still grateful for his past self and his tendency to find himself in trouble. “Maybe we could go to that flower field I found with Tech, most of them hadn’t bloomed yet.”
He had quickly learned that Tech— the soldier— was far more than the silly title Tommy had called him at their first meeting. Soldiers were pawns, something he learned from the stories Tech told. The fae was far more adjacent to a warrior. But there were so many stories with so many different plots that Tech told, that it felt wrong to reduce him to one aspect of his life. And while Tommy initially cringed at the power barely half the fae’s name held as it spilt from his mouth, but had grown to find comfort in the way it sat heavily on his tongue.
“Maybe, or what about a lake?”
“Why even give the illusion of choice, Bard?”
“The same reason we always do,” Wil muttered, walking ahead. Tommy had grown a lot but he still struggled slightly to keep up with the brunette and his ridiculously long legs.
“What?” Tommy asked, rushing forward and slinging an arm around Wil in order to keep him at a more reasonable pace. “What’d you say?”
“Nothing, dear. There are plenty of flowers at the lake for you to distract yourself with.”
“Whatever, you just want to see the fish.”
“Hm, the salmon are in season aren’t they?” Wil jested, a wide smile taking over his face, Tommy couldn’t help but to smile back. “Race you there!” And even though Tommy had no clue where he was going, he found himself racing ahead of Wil. The forest would guide him there safely, just as she had many times before.
Unsurprisingly, Wil— the tall fucker— was the first to get there. The cruellest part was that he wasn’t even winded. Tommy plopped down in a patch of moss, looking up at the canopy of trees and attempting to catch his breath. “It’s not fair how fast you are, this is your forest, of course, you’re quicker in it.”
“I’d be quicker outside of the forest too,” Wil said, looking over to Tommy from where he sat near the lake.
“That’s absolute bullshit.”
“You calling me a liar, dearheart?”
Tommy’s breath caught in his throat, although they were loose on the rules, there were some things they were adamant about. The truth was one of those things. “Of course not, Wil,” he said, ignoring how the name felt stuck in his mouth for a moment. “I’m just saying you’re overestimating your ability, I’m just a bit out of my element here.”
“Out of your element?” Wil scoffed. “You’ve practically lived here since you were little more than a babe.”
“Visiting is not the same as having her magick run through you, I know that, Odist.”
“I still bet I could outrun you without her help, do you want to race? If you win you get bragging rights and if you lose, you get to feel her magick, truly .”
“I do not wish to make a deal with you,” Tommy says as plainly as he can and Wil doesn’t even bother to look disappointed. It was a cheap throw in a long game of cat and mouse. “I would win though.”
“You could try your luck this time, little star.”
Tommy laughs, closing his eyes and taking in as much of the sun as he can. “I don’t trust the odds.” He says simply. Other than Wil’s pestering, this moment is perfect. She keeps too much sun from reaching him so it’s a comforting warmth instead of the heavy onslaught it is back at the village. A soft breeze blows through and Tommy mutters his appreciation— not a thank you, never that— to the forest.
“Sometimes I fear you love her more than me.”
Tommy goes to joke but the words get stuck in his mouth, something about Wil’s tone is far too serious. “I don’t,” he says softly, opening his eyes.
Wil watches the fish swim with a careful eye and then speaks in an even more careful voice. “Can you tell me? I know you aren’t lying, I can feel it. It’s just that you slip through our grasp, even after all this time. I fear one day I may lose you.”
“I love you.” He doesn’t promise that he’ll never be lost, he can’t as much as he wants to reassure the fae— as much as he wants to reassure his brother. “I love you all far greater than I ever remember loving anyone before.”
“Then why won’t you just give in?” Wil all but whines.
Tommy can’t conjure a proper answer. The rules for one— rules made by people who feared his family . It was the principle then, he had been playing this game for too long to quit now. “I just can’t,” Tommy says and it feels halfhearted.
Wil takes the answer, for what it’s worth, and they spend the rest of their time by the lake in silence. Wil only walks Tommy halfway to the forest boundaries, leaving the blonde to walk the rest of the way by himself.
It’s not the first time it’s happened, and Tommy is certain it won’t be the last. Wil, ever the dramatic, tends to throw fits when the blonde doesn’t jump at the chance to cross the line he had been toeing for years. He doesn’t ruminate on it, instead returning to the village.
It was nearing sunfall and Tommy was hoping to make a quick meal before retiring to bed. His plans are foiled when a short brunette comes sprinting towards him. “Tommy!” Tubbo shouts, practically ramming into the blonde. “Tommy, there was a man and he was talking about the forest fae! He had gathered most of the village and he was telling them all that he saw a boy that looked like you talking to the fae while he was travelling. He’s trying to convince them to kick you out.”
For a moment, all Tommy could do was blink, digesting the information. “What?” Years he had spent cautiously, making sure not to tell anyone in the village— other than Tubbo— about his day trips, taking a long way around so no one would catch him coming out of the forest.
“Tommy, you need to hide. I’m sure it’ll blow over again but now is not the time that you want people to see you,” Tubbo spoke, pulling the blonde in the direction of the barn. The barn, as they called it, was little more than a shed, but when they were younger it felt much larger.
They ducked inside and Tommy took a seat against the wall, ever thankful for the fact that Tubbo made them clean the barn at least once a moon cycle. Though he didn’t have to deal with dirt clinging to his clothes, he did have to deal with whatever slander the traveller said— even if it wasn't slander in the slightest.
Tommy hadn’t seen a traveller, in fact, he was always deep enough into the forest during his talks with the trio that nobody should have seen him. The forest protected him enough to not allow anyone to see. How this could have happened is beyond him.
“Are you okay here, bossman? I’ve got to get back before my dad does.”
“Yeah, it’s fine. You can go ahead,” Tommy said, throwing Tubbo a weak smile. He watches the brunette leave before he slumps in on himself— knees pulled to his chest and head tucked between them.
This would all be fine, everything would be okay. Or at least this was the mantra Tommy repeated until sleep finally overtook him.
He awoke suddenly in the middle of the night, a crick in his neck and an irresistible urge to return to the forest deep in his bones. He stands, stretching out and wincing when his bones crack.
The village was asleep as he snuck into the forest, a fact he was grateful for. He can’t imagine being caught now.
When he makes it to the clearing, he sees Tech, pink hair with flowers braided in glistening in the moonlight. “Why’d you call for me this late?” Tech doesn’t startle, nor does he turn around to face Tommy.
“You’re too restless to sleep tonight,” the fae speaks, running his fingers through the grass. Tommy makes his way over, sitting next to Tech. He’s careful to avoid the ring, where the fae is sitting half in, half out.
“I wasn’t,” Tommy said, and it wasn’t entirely true. He felt restless, anxious energy thrumming under his skin, but he had also managed to fall asleep in the barn. So it’s not entirely a lie either.
Tech must be able to see the half truth for what it is because he sighed, looking over to Tommy. “I was too restless to sleep then,” he corrects. The blonde wasn’t expecting that, as close as they were, Tech was always the most closed off out of the trio.
“Would you like to talk about it?” He asks and Tech shakes his head. Tommy hadn’t expected to fae to want to divulge, but better safe than sorry. “Fine but I’m not going anywhere tonight.” Occasionally, when he was called out after the sun had set, they’d explore the forest. Just to see what she offered when the waking hours were over.
“You fall short of your title then.”
Tommy laughed, occasionally that sentiment was correct. He could think of a handful of times he had failed to meet the expectations his title set for him. To be fair, some of the experiences— especially those dealing with magick— tended to be a bit too overwhelming for him. “Adventurers would be nothing without rest.”
“That’s untrue, I once knew a man who explored the entirety of the land without shutting his eyes once.”
Tommy hummed, leaning into Tech’s side. Restlessness fading as Tommy leeched off of the comforting warmth. “Tell me about him, won’t you?” Tech’s stories were far from rare, but Tommy valued them as much as one would a priceless object.
“Of course, treasure.” And he did, he told the whole story even though Tommy had fallen asleep halfway through.
The sun was nearly gracing the middle of the sky when Tommy blinked awake. It was rare he fell asleep here, but it was always the best rest he could ask for. Especially now, wrapped up in his brother's arms, he was fully and entirely safe.
It’s nice and warm, at least until it isn’t. It's nearly midday and Tubbo has probably found time to check the barn and see that Tommy wasn’t there. He pried himself from Tech’s grip, a practised art he had perfected and started making his way back to the village.
He got turned around a few times, having to brute force his way out of the forest in the end. Usually, when she would mess up his route, he would just stay longer, but Tubbo was waiting for him. Keeping a frantic Tubbo waiting was practically a death sentence.
Reminiscent of the last time he left, there was a body barreling in his direction. However, this time instead of being Tubbo knocking into him, he is met with one of the villagers tackling him to the ground.
“What the fuck?” He screeched, trying to push the man away only to be pressed harder into the ground. “Let go of me!”
He heard a chatter around him, other townsfolk gathering around to watch the spectacle. “Why? So you can lead those monsters here, changeling ?” The man spat the word out like venom. To talk badly about fair folk was against the rules they had set, or at least Tommy thinks it is, so this all feels a little taboo.
“They already know where the village is, asswipe. They’re our neighbours.”
“So he has been speaking to them, just as the man had said,” someone from the crowd calls. The weight on his back increases tenfold and his ribs scream under pressure. He can’t get a word in lengthwise, mouth covered in dirt and lungs barely getting enough to breathe, let alone speak.
“He’s working with them to take out the village! They never liked how close we lived to the forest, I told you all!” Another voice spoke. It was a foolish claim, they didn’t care as long as the villagers kept to themselves and didn’t wander into the forest— not that she’d let them get too deep.
“We should just exile him to the forest, they’ve likely claimed him if he’s not dead yet.” There were a few hums of agreement.
“He should be punished for plotting against the village!” Someone else threw out as if this was a sovereign state and he was a war criminal and not just a boy who had accidentally bit off more than he could chew.
The crowd fell silent at the claim, either debating it with themselves or too pusillanimous to say anything. At least until someone else spoke, “I don’t think that’s a good idea. If they’ve truly claimed him.” It’s good to know there’s at least one person with common sense in this godforsaken place, well other than him and Tubbo.
Fuck, where is Tubbo? He was not going to be happy about this scene. “They wouldn’t send him back so willingly if there was a claim,” the man pinning him spoke. “I agree with Jared, he should deal with the consequences of his actions.”
There is very little time between when the weight atop of him disappears, lungs working overtime to get back what they lost under strain, and when a blinding pain lights in his head.
Something warm and heavy slides across his forehead, a sensation he can barely focus on before the pain spreads. Harsh kicks are delivered to what feels like, and what probably is, the entirety of his body.
He’s not sure how long it goes on for, losing focus early into it. Tommy nearly feels like he’s floating, if he ignores the pain that feels somehow like the most excruciating thing he’s gone through and something that’s not even happening to him at this very moment.
Tommy refocuses his vision as he’s picked up from the ground, slung over someone’s shoulder and jostled in a way that’s so harsh it’s got to be purposeful. They stop not long after and he’s tossed to the ground at the entrance of the forest.
Moss curls around him and he breaks. The villagers are gone now, leaving just him and the forest. His sobs ring out into the tree line, they sound too loud but she’s probably amplified them to help his family find him quicker.
He lets a mix of saliva and blood run down his chin as he tries to sit up, uncaring of how gross it is. A loud gasp cuts through his cries, body protesting at the movement. Tommy lays back down and winces at the feeling of his back against the ground, it’s only a slightly better pain than it is sitting up.
As much as he wants his family in this moment, he can’t move to get to them. This fact only serves to upset him more. Sobs wrack his body so hard that it makes his ribs but he can’t stop, he wants his brothers and his father and for this pain to stop.
The sounds in the forest come to a sudden stop, and Tommy knows that at least one of his wants will be fulfilled.
A figure comes practically flying at him and he smiles up at them. “Dad,” he calls and though he had never called any of the fae family out loud, the man looks pleased with the title.
Any satisfaction at the name is wiped away the moment Phil scans over Tommy’s injuries. “Oh, dove. What happened to you?” He asks, practically collapsing next to Tommy. The fae’s hand reaches towards the pouch at his waist.
Tommy watches with curiosity, he has asked many times what was in there but never received an answer, only a vague proposition of a deal. “Didn’t know this is wha’ it took ta see,” he said absently.
His eyes widen as Phil pulls out a potion. Those were rare, or something far above rare. Only the richest of the rich had those. Or at least that’s how it was for humans. It makes sense for fae to have better access to potions, their land was overrun with magic whereas here you’d have to be skilled in honing magic to be able to make even the weakest of potions.
The deep colour of this one suggests it’s far from weak. “Here,” Phil says pushing the potion forwards. “Drink it.”
“Promise,” Tommy breathes out, holding onto his side. “Promise me this doesn’t ‘ave an attachment, promise that you’re not trickin’ me.”
“You insolent child,” Phil spits, a fearful sort of anger painting his words. “You’re injured— you could be dying and you’re worried about such miniscule things? Who cares if this is trickery? You’re ours, you have been since we laid eyes on you.”
“Please,” Tommy begs, though he’s not sure what he’s begging for, for his freedom or for his family.
Phil sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Fine, I promise that this gift comes from a place free of malice and you will not owe any one of us for this. Potions don’t count as fae food either, so you’re fine in that regard. Now drink the healing potion, mate.”
Tommy takes the bottle in his shaking hands, staring at the way it glitters in the sunset. Phil had taken the cork off, a fact he’s grateful for, he’s not sure he would have been able to do it himself. He nearly chokes on the overwhelming taste of melon but continues swallowing when the pain in his sides decreases monumentally.
“You can’t go back to your village,” Phil says after a while. Tommy just nods in response. “You can’t leave us either.” And this is how the game of cat and mouse ends. Tommy can’t go back home and though he could stay in the forest, he’s certain she would be more pleased if he found home with his family. “It was always meant to be this way, songbird.”
And the fae was right, Tommy had been theirs from the very beginning.