Chapter Text
Tubbo keeps flashing Tommy wide-eyed, terrified glances as they follow the fae down the tunnel, and Tommy doesn't -
He doesn't know what to do.
He's - he knows plenty about the fae, is the thing. Techno had known one, once, a long time before he was saddled with a pair of itinerant pups, and Tommy has learned more since meeting Ranboo. But -
- but that's not much help, when faced with the reality of a fae standing before him. Not one like Ranboo, either - the figure that had woken them up is powerful. Tommy can feel it, like static on the edges of his awareness, even if the fae hadn't already informed them that it was mighty enough to lay claim to an entire server.
Admin - creatures with the power to be admin - are rare, and fae, friendly or not, merciful or not, are mercurial.
So he follows it obediently into the dark, and Tubbo does too, and even if Ranboo wasn't cradled against its chest they would still probably have no choice.
At least - and it's a thin line of hope - its hands are gentle.
It moves tirelessly, without seeming to notice the distance they've followed it, until at last it reaches a place where the chamber broadens, opening upwards onto a cloudless blue sky. The light - bright white like morning - traces delicate patterns through the long vines trailing downwards, heavy with fruit.
There are stone steps carved into the wall of the cavern, and the fae gestures for Tommy and Tubbo to take them, trailing along wordlessly behind.
They're about halfway up when Tubbo slips.
Tommy hears it before anything - he's spinning around the moment he hears the wet moss give way under Tubbo's thought, before the yelp can even escape Tubbo's throat. He's too late, though - he was always going to be late, and Tubbo is already falling by the time Tommy can grab for his hand -
The fae is faster.
Or - not faster, maybe, but stronger. Power warps around it like a flower, petals wavering as it extends to fold around Tubbo, and then he's caught, half-tripped, and
trapped there for just long enough that Tommy can grab his hand -
- and the fae grabs his other, and together, they pull Tubbo back up onto the ledge.
Tommy - can't help it. He drags Tubbo close, against his chest, and ignores the way he protests that he's fine -
"Shit, Tubbo." But Tubbo feels fine, clutched against his chest, and maybe it's true. "Shit, thank you, thank you -"
"Language," the fae says, mildly, as it watches them - dispassionate, but maybe not cruel, because it doesn't try to hurry them along until Tommy has finally managed to prise his arms off of Tubbo. "We should keep going. You can rest when we get to proper shelter."
"Yeah." Tubbo's voice is - shaky, but the fae doesn't seem to mind that he isn't letting go of Tommy's hand. "Uh - thank you. Thank you, sir -"
That's enough to earn a silent, regal nod from the fae - and then it gestures, mock-invitingly, up the stairs, and Tommy knows better than to risk delaying any longer. He grabs Tubbo's hand and tugs him upright, and Tubbo follows him up the stairs obediently, sparing only a glance back at the fae moving quietly behind them.
-----
The sunlight that greets them at the top of the stairs spills over like molten gold.
It's not the shade of sunset, either - there's something too-perfect about the color, oversaturated but not muggy despite the mist that roils silkily between the trees. Trees which, themselves, are overgrown but not untamed - their branches pour forth trailing ivies and long cascades of flowers, and their trunks are rooted in plush green moss and pale algaes that glisten with morning wetness.
There is birdsong, in the jungle. There are other things, too, probably - Tommy isn't stupid enough to mistake the fae's power, coiling through every inch of what can only be -
"Faewild." It's Tubbo who's stupid enough to breathe the word, to put a name to a power they both recognize - although Ranboo had never had the strength to put this sort of life into more than a single, beautiful tree.
The fae - looks over at them, for a moment, as if considering that. Then it nods.
"Not mine," it says, as if to clarify. "A friend's. She's always had a gift for -"
It gestures at the grove, at the tall trees towering overhead, thick enough to be a thousand years old if not for the magic Tommy can feel.
"We'll go to her house," the fae continues, after a moment, as if it's only just decided. "My own is - a little far, maybe, to walk on foot."
The thought of facing two fae is - somehow - worse than the thought of facing one.
It's not like they have a choice, though, and so Tommy ducks his head, and scuffs his foot, and answers, meekly, "Yes, sir."
The new fae’s house is unmistakable, when they reach it.
It’s - like a living thing in the jungle, flowers everywhere around it, coiled around clean bamboo siding that’s dripping with mosses and the jungle damp. It’s massive, too - bigger than Schlatt’s manor in Manburg, maybe, except that it’s hard to tell, exactly, because it fades back into the forest like a part of it.
It towers, against the blue sky, enormous and wordlessly foreboding, because even if it doesn’t belong to the server’s admin, Tommy knows a seat of power when he sees one.
The second fae is dangerous, then. Not that it can put them in much more danger, with the admin just behind them, power coiled around him like a snake.
The admin passes them, as they approach the stairs - woven into thick vines, like they’re as much a part of the plant as a concession to the structure being a liveable house - and ascends to the door, which swings wide like an invitation at its touch.
The name he calls fizzles, as it reaches Tommy’s ears, as if hidden by magic. The admin must receive some response, though - it ducks its head, for a moment, respectful, before stepping through the sweeping arch.
“Come in,” it adds, when Tubbo hesitates behind it, turning to gesture for them to follow, and the two of them only have a chance to share a look before following it into -
- well, the unseen fae’s house is - homely, almost.
The entryway is, at least. It’s not small - there’s plenty of space inside the structure, and the room they’ve come into is broad and open, with a high, vaulted ceiling. But there are flowers everywhere, pushing up through cracks in the wood and around a set of almost-human furniture - couches, and a low table between them, and what almost looks like a carpet but is, on closer inspection, delicately layered, living mosses, green and red-tinted, arranged in neat rings and growing through the wood.
Even the walls are papered in thin, concentric lichens, and there is ivy festooned above the wild, unglassed windows, gold flowers and bright red berries hanging heavy and perfuming the air with a sweet, peppery fragrance.
Beyond the living room, there’s a kitchen, only half-seperated by a low wall, and facing away from them -
If Tommy had never met Ranboo, there would still be no question in him that this was a fae.
“Good afternoon, Xisuma,” it says, turning as they come in, setting a pot down and considering them with an eerie grace. “This is a mess you’ve brought me, isn’t it?”
It hasn’t bothered to try to look human. That’s the first, most striking thing - but it has a human face, almost. Human-looking lips, but its nose is flattened, like a fawns, and its cheeks are dappled with white specks on tan, rather than freckles. Its ears, too, are animal, and its legs are wrong, clothed but obviously not bending like a knee would, with little cloven hooves sticking out the bottom.
There are flowers in its hair - it’s crowned with them, and they trail like a mane down its back. The flowers aren’t cut, though - or if they are, they’re woven in carefully to hide the stems.
Tommy is pretty sure they aren’t cut. They seem to grow from it, instead, rooted and tangled around the sweeping, bone-white horns.
The eyes - they aren’t human at all.
Still, it approaches them gracefully, as if considering them, and Tommy can’t help but freeze before it, stilled like a rabbit pinned by a falcon’s cry. It reaches for him -
And its touch is gentle. Its fingers are blunt, and soft, and careful as they trace along his cheek, thumb brushing over a dried, scabbed scrape.
“Let’s get you boys cleaned up,” it says, and settles that same hand on his shoulder, guiding him towards a couch.
Tubbo follows, looking as lost as Tommy feels, but not daring to question either. The admin settles on another chair as the deer-fae pushes Tommy down, into the seat, and bustles off to do - something.
“You can call me Gem,” it says, as it returns, bucket of water in its hand, rags - clean ones - looped over the handle. It looks more human, coming back - some of the animal characteristics are more fuzzy, and the horns have faded to short, blunt things, and Tommy recognizes a human seeming well enough.
He knows, from experience, that it doesn’t make you any more human.
Still - it’s enough for Tubbo to remember his manners, and manners are everything to the fae. “My name is Tubbo,” he says, and there’s a little glister of power to it. “And this is To-”
The admin cuts him off before he can finish with a single, raised hand.
“You shouldn’t give your names to fairy,” it says, softly. “Names have power.”
And - maybe if they were human, the warning would be necessary, but Tommy knows enough that -
“It’s not my real name,” he says, quietly, wilting back a little as the admin’s gaze settles on him. “We - know better than that, sir. It’s - I go by Tommy.”
“Ah.” The admin settles back, and its fingers run down Ranboo’s shoulders gently, the squirrel still still and quiet in his lap. “My apologies. Tommy, Tubbo. You may call me Xisuma.”
“Sir.” Tubbo ducks his head, and Tommy doesn’t meet the admin’s gaze, either.
“So what brings you boys to the server?” Gem asks, voice mild as she dips one of the rags into the water. “I mean - did you find your way over the border, or…?”
“We were - being chased,” Tommy manages - then can’t hold back a hiss as the towel is pressed to one of his cuts. It doesn’t hurt too bad, though - not as bad as getting caught in the bramble that had cut him up the first time. “One of the villages - I think they were north of here? They -”
He scrambles for a lie, one that will sound good to the sympathies of fae, and settles on one maybe too quickly. “They found out that ‘boo was a fae,” he says. “And - he’s not powerful enough to handle a whole village. So we had to run, but they weren’t - they weren’t planning to let us escape.”
“They had stumbled into the caves,” Xisuma adds. “Chef let me know that they had settled in at one of his old mining camps.”
“We didn’t know we were on a server,” Tubbo adds hastily. “I mean - we didn’t realize one was even out here - we didn’t know we had crossed your borders.”
“Ah.” It’s said like - like the fae is making sense of something, and it dabs a little more at Tommy’s cuts before rising to its feet in a single, smooth motion. “Let me get you some potions. They’ll need a proper bath, X, this is a little much to tidy up with just a washcloth.”
“I’m sure that can be arranged.”
It’s the first time that Tommy has seen the admin smile. It seems to - relax, on its seat, as the deer-fae moves back into her kitchen, settling back into the cushions to regard them with pale, glowing eyes.
“We’ve had trouble with some of our neighboring villages before,” it muses. “I might have to go and - remind them - why they don’t harass fae in my woods. I’m sorry - that must have been terrifying.”
“It was - yeah,” Tommy agrees helplessly. “It was. You’re not -”
He trails off, not quite brave enough to ask what that reminder might entail, but the fae is terribly perceptive.
“I don’t, as a rule, kill humans,” it says. “Don’t worry. But - fruit rotting on the vine, animals breaking loose and running wild, wood rotting and refusing to light - there are lots of little ways to make sure they remember where they live. This whole mountain is mine, even if I keep my server to the upper half.”
“Ah.”
That - settles between them in silence, for a minute, because that’s - terrifying, honestly, the thought of a fae powerful enough to extend their domain so far beyond the walls of their own claimed land. But the admin’s gaze is still warm, where it settles on them.
“You three, of course, are welcome here,” it says. “At least while you recover. We’ve got a community up here - a few other fae, and a small group of hybrids and - other races. It’s rare we have visitors, but I’m sure no one will begrudge you a chance to rest.”
Tommy wants to get off this server. He can see, in the flick of his eyes, that Tubbo does, too - there’s a wordless, pressing threat to the idea of being trapped amongst fae and hybrids and whatever other creatures Xisuma considers worthy of his server.
But fae hospitality is not to be spurned, and Tommy knows that, too, especially when it’s offered freely and Ranboo is still helpless in the admin’s hands.
“It would be an honor, sir,” he says, ducking his gaze and forcing himself to smile so the admin can’t see that it doesn’t reach his eyes. “Thank you for your generosity.”
“Why don’t you stay here for tonight?” Gem says, ducking back into the room when the quiet lingers a moment too long after that. “I’ve got some extra space in my loft, and I’ve got some extra towels - there’s a waterfall behind my house that should be warm enough for a bath, this time of year.”
“That would be - thank you, Gem.” Xisuma watches as it holds out a glimmering pink bottle, and is polite enough to ignore the way Tubbo stares at it like a coiled viper. “I think that would be for the best.”
It doesn’t leave the choice up to them, which might be a mercy.
“Drink,” Gem says, when Tubbo hasn’t taken the bottle after another uneasy beat. “It’s just a healing potion.”
He takes it, but Tommy can’t miss the slight waver in his hands, or the flicking, uneasy glance. There’s nothing that refusing is going to get them, though, and after a moment, he swallows it down.
There’s a beat, while the magic catches up around him - and then Tommy can see the way he slumps against the couch, as the potion heals away aches and pain and soreness. Tommy’s used potions before - not often, but enough that the relief is familiar, and instantly recognizable.
He doesn’t hesitate when the fae offers him a glowing pink vial of his own.
It tastes awful, but the feeling of his skin knitting closed and scrapes fading to pale pink traces against the tan of his skin is almost instantaneous. It comes with a tiredness, though - something bone-deep and unpleasant and not entirely exhaustion.
The fae seems pleased by his obedience, anyways.
Its gaze settles on the other fae. “In that case - Gem. May I leave them with you? I should go check the border, and make sure we don’t have any - less friendly uninvited guests.”
Gem smiles. “Of course, Xi. I’ll see you in the morning?”
“If not, I’ll send word.” The admin rises, gracefully, to its feet - then looks down at Tubbo. “Here -” it says, and reaches out, and Tubbo scrambles to accept Ranboo as he’s offered, still limp. “He should be awake by dawn. If not - well, Gem is a better healer than I am.”
That gets a snorted laugh from the other fae - a heavy breath like a deer’s huff.
“Go, Xisuma,” it says. “I’ll get them to bed.”
The admin nods -
And drops away, so suddenly that Tommy can’t help but jerk back. A shadow pools on the floor, thick and ink-black, and seems to flow into the shadows, tracing along their edges towards the door like the silhouette of a falcon’s shadow on a ridgeline.
It glides away, and the sunlight flickers like a candleflame - just for a moment, and then the shadow is gone, and the sun seems brighter than before.
-----
There’s an awkward, stilted moment in its absence.
Then Gem turns, back to Tommy, and smiles in a way that doesn’t quite reach its eyes. Its gaze is soft, though, not any more frightening than its nature already makes it -
“Children,” it says, like it’s reminding itself. “You - should probably eat, shouldn’t you? Or has Xisuma fed you already?”
Tommy looks over at Tubbo, swallowing helplessly, and Tubbo’s wide eyes look just as unsure -
But the fae snorts, and stamps one hoof lightly against the wooden floor, a sharp, clicking thump.
“Oh,” it says, voice softening at the edges. “You’re - scared, aren’t you?”
It - doesn’t sound like the sort of question that needs answering. It wouldn’t be, if a human was asking, but ignoring a fae can be an insult, probably -
“Yes, sir,” Tommy says, and the fae seems to consider that.
“Ma’am,” it corrects him mildly, clopping lightly over the wood to settle on the low table, close enough to reach out and touch if it wanted to. “It’s alright. I’m sure this must be scary for you. On a new server, away from anyone you know…”
“Yes, ma’am.” The words sound small in his chest. “I - we haven’t eaten, no.”
That earns him a smile, and the fae reaches out and cups his cheek lightly for just a moment before rising again.
“Well - that I can fix, at least.” She steps back over to the kitchen, and stretches up to retrieve a set of carved wooden bowls from above the counter. “I’ve made some soup, and I think I have a little fresh bread - a warm meal will help, I’m sure.”
“Thank you, ma’am,” Tubbo says, almost automatically - but his hand reaches out, fingers wrapping around Tommy and squeezing in unvoiced concern.
The fae seems to anticipate their worries, though. “I promise,” she says, with all the graven power of a fae’s word - “that any food you take from me will not be intended to work an ill against you, or to lay a magic on you without your consent.”
They’re human, and Gem is a fae.
Ranboo could probably point to whatever loopholes the fae could use against them - but Tommy isn’t that clever. Tubbo - must not hear anything wrong, either, though, because after a moment, he ducks his head in gratitude -
“Thank you, ma’am,” he says, again, and takes the bowl, shifting Ranboo to his knee to let him hold it steady.
It’s Tommy, though, who takes the next bowl, and the first sip.
It tastes -
It tastes like soup, which shouldn’t feel so strange. It does, though - the thought that the fae is just feeding them -
He eats, anyways. It’s - good.
After a moment, Tubbo follows his lead, a little awkwardly with only one hand. Gem’s gaze turns to him, and Tommy can watch her watch Tubbo out of the corner of his eye as he eats -
Until she notices him.
He can’t help but flinch as she smiles. “I’m sorry,” she says. “I’m making you uncomfortable, aren’t I?”
“No -” he starts, and Tubbo tries to protest too, but almost chokes on the soup. “I mean - of course not, ma’am, I’m sorry -”
“It’s rude to lie to a fae, Tommy,” she says, the words mild, even though terror makes his throat clench at the suggestion. “It’s okay, though. Like Xisuma said, you’re welcome here.”
“I’m sorry -”
“You don’t have to apologize,” she says, and rises to her hooves. “I know this is probably a lot for you. Why don’t I - go out, for a while? There are bedrooms up the stairs -”
She gestures, and Tommy notices them for the first time, half hidden by ivy and the swirling curves carved into the wood.
“- the only doors that will open,” she adds. “You two can make yourselves at home. Get some rest, and I’ll call you back down around dinner?”
A part of him feels like he should protest - it must be rude, to make someone leave their house for you -
But he ducks his head in gratitude instead. “That would be - thank you, ma’am.”
Gem smiles at him. “Get some rest, if you can,” she says. “If you need anything - just let me know, okay? We’ll take care of it.”
Then she turns -
Tommy considers it a mercy that she just walks out the door, still mostly human as she strides out into the jungle.