Chapter Text
Speaking of Fledglings—
Ludwig had a package for Technoblade. Rae generally knows the way to the SBI commune, but the directions that Ludwig had given her were much too dense to be recognizable to any.... normal person.
She sees a large, sprawling treehouse in the distance, so she must be going the right direction. Humming to herself, she picks her way across the evergreen branches, wrapping her leather sweater tighter around her chest.
It takes her a bit more than the twenty wingbeats she was anticipating before she touches down on a sky-blue landing pad.
The treehouse is much bigger in person, easily three stories high with four turrets surrounding the main treehouse. It’s walled off to ward against the snow and heavy winds that buffer constantly in this part of the world. Rae wonders how Dream can stand to make such a trip each month. Her fingers feel frozen, her body shaking from the chill as she steps into the little wooden hallway leading to their heavy oaken door.
Rae lets the raven knocker fall on the door. She’s not totally sure what the Sleepy Boi’s are like, having met only Tommy and maybe Technoblade through Corpse? They seem cool.
“Hello?” she calls. “Hellooooooo.”
There seems to be no one in the turrets. None of the storm lanterns have been lit in the windows or outside the door, in fact.
Well, Rae can’t leave this package outside.
She pulls open the door and steps inside.
Wow, this is homey .
The walls are decorated with paintings ranging from little-Fledgling style to ones clearly done by an Elder Winged. Furs drape over stools and chairs centered around a smokeless hearth, expertly cleaned and finished. The wood, from the walls to the furniture to the cupboards to the stacks of utensils and bowls on the kitchen back countertop, is all polished and shining like a looking-glass despite the many types of wood used around the home. There’s chests along the back wall, a crafting bench and little furnace smack dab in the middle of the room.
Rae places Lud’s gift on top of their circular table, laying down the card he expressly told her to remain pristine right on top. She’s about to leave when––
“OH you SHUCKING BRATCHNY!”
“Tommy?” Rae calls. She glances around, spotting a spiral staircase hidden behind a pile of furs and coats. “Tommy, are you okay?”
“I am okay, Val-ky-rae,” Tommy says, enunciating her name like he always does. “I’m just––”
A series of bangs and clangs echo from the floor above. Rae winces, her wings hovering over her shoulders as if to protect her.
“Are you sure, Tommy?” Rae calls.
(She takes one step up the staircase.)
“I am very sure, Val-ky-rae, very sure about that–– see, I am a big kāne, the biggest of kāne, you know.”
He sounds very determined to not let her go upstairs, which only incentivizes her to go up even more.
“Mmhm.”
(She’s now halfway up the staircase.)
“If I need your help–– which I don’t –– I will let you know. Val-ky-rae.”
“Yup–– what in the world, Tommy?!”
Rae emerges onto a lofted area of the main room; this clearly isn’t the second tier of the house yet, but it’s still spacious enough for a Fledgling to create their own little room.
Well. Previous Fledgling. Now Winged.
Fluffy white wings cover all of Tommy’s loft: the most seem to latch on to his little nest in the corner, but a significant amount have stuck on to his little fur coats and blankets.
The process of Molting is very painful for many Fledglings, as larger feathers take the place of the many downy feathers in the span of two phoebs. The beginning is the most painful part especially, as Fledgling wings grow bone, skin, and muscle to support the heavier, larger feathers meant for flight.
Tommy’s huddled on top of a cushion in the middle of his room, having knocked over a guitar that had been leaning on the wall. He’s cradling one of his wings in his arms, patches of pink skin barely visible amidst the fluffy feathers.
“Aww,” Rae cooes, leaning down to brush some stray feathers out of Tommy’s hair. He frowns at her, his little face scrunching up in the cutest picture of determined distaste Rae has ever seen. “What happened, Tommy? Is it your seventh birthday already?”
“No,” Tommy grumbles. “My seventh birthday was a month ago.”
“Oh.”
“Phil told me this would happen, but he didn’t say it would hurt this much,” he continues. He frowns again, crossing his arms. “I don’t like it.”
“Yeah,” Rae sighs, crouching down next to Tommy. “It’s very painful in the beginning. But it gets better, I promise.”
“Yeah,” Tommy says quietly. “Yeah, I guess it does.”
“Here,” Rae says, offering her hand to Tommy. “Let’s go eat a lot of food, because Molting takes a lot of energy, and we’ll have you drink some potions to help the pain go away for a little bit. Does that sound good?”
“Yeah,” Tommy grumbles, taking her hand hesitantly. He wobbles a little bit while standing, his wings very much not used to the newfound weight, but he’s able to make his way down the staircase without too much wincing or help from Rae.
That was surprisingly easy. She'd always seen Tommy as very much a determined, stubborn little guy, but who knows. Maybe this grumbly, sleepy side was a side of him she'd never seen before.
When Rae leaves, Tommy’s fast asleep under a huge pile of blankets, wings spread out on the top of the pile and bald patches showing more under all his feathers. She leaves a detailed letter of everything that had occurred, tucking it under Ludwig’s present.
Honestly, if she’s learned anything from this trip, it’s that she prefers to be the cool aunt.