Chapter Text
Wilbur disappears for a moment, the air rippling as he slips into the circle, no doubt to call in his favors. Theseus remains right in his father’s arms, content to bask in the sun that warms his skin. The spring sunshine kisses freckles across his arms and cheeks as the lingering smoke in the sky parts now that the fire is out. Philza runs his fingers over his hair, its euphoric, nostalgia washing over him now that all the blocks in his mind have crumbled to dust. He can almost pretend that he’s home right now and the past few years have been a really bad dream.
The forest around them still smells like ash and smoke, the singed trees shaking out their soot cover branches and leaning in mourning over their fallen brethren. Their creaking trunks echo around the damage like a solemn song. The fire was smothered between the time of him dying and awaking, he thinks, but he can’t seem to piece together when and why, details fuzzy from the time-loss.
Technoblade is still looming over the hunters, probably to intimidate them and keep them from making plans to try and escape. His eyes keep flitting back to Theseus though like he wants to rush over to him and say something. Theseus just shoots him a little smile which Techno returns with a little quirk of his mouth.
It’s quiet, deathly so. The forest is waiting, making sure nothing else will harm the life within. The branches seem warier of the fae now, not reaching out to protect them like they once did, they pull away in fear. Theseus feels a little guilty about it. Even the soft petals of the circle Wilbur slipped into seem a little wilted, their petals twisted up to protect the important parts of the flowers. The grass parts around their feet, not idly brushing their legs anymore. He catches some of the new growth, saplings, and sprouts that were spared in the fire, slipping deeper into the fuller part of the forest, guided along by urging branches.
His father hums a little, seemingly unbothered by the forest’s new eversion to them, rocking back and forth slightly, “How was your mother?” he rasps, voice still shakily.
“She was good, happy to see me. She told Techno to come to visit more often,” Theseus responds, glancing at his offending brother. Technoblade gives an ear twitch, clearly having heard him but he doesn’t say anything.
Philza laughs lightly, “She's been telling me that for years, Techno is in a whole new ‘never dying’ phase,” he clears his throat, “ I’m sure he’ll calm down now that you’re back home.” It’s like he’s scolding a teenager rather than a fully grown fae. Techno huffs from where he stands guard.
Not even a second later, Wilbur stands before them, looking less rumpled up than when he left. Probably changed his clothes and fixed his hair before meeting with the other fae. Theseus huffs a laugh into his father’s green overcoat as the memories of Wilbur’s pretentious nature flick by in his mind. With a glance at him, and a nod, Wilbur steps through the flowers, although the part under his feet to avoid his touch.
Behind him, a few more fae flick into view, the most notable of them is short with a long scar down the side of his face that shifts around like it cuts through his glamour. He has soft yellow-feathered wings, smaller than the one Phil has him wrapped up in, and dark hair. The other faeries seem to be under his command.
He and Wilbur speak for a moment before he, and his men, travel over to where Techno stands. The yellow-winged man dutifully stays out of Techno’s way as Theseus’ older brother leaves his post to see his family, giving the yellow-winged faerie a glance and a snort as the other takes another dramatic step back.
Techno grumbles something under his breath as he approaches before he nudges Wilbur affectionately with his shoulder and greets Phil with a press of their foreheads. Theseus gets a hair ruffle that lingers for a second as Techno probably debates whether being more affectionate is worth the reputation of being soft.
“Q has it handled,” Wilbur says, using something that is definitely not the yellow-winged man’s true name, “Can we go?”
Wil isn’t really asking as much as he is begging because he’s pulling their father’s coat like a child. His pout shatters whatever sort of effect of prestige he was trying to garner from the other faeries with his outfit change, in Theseus’ opinion, but the faeries just look the other way, well, all but Q, who chuckles a little. He’s quiet after Techno shoots him a blood-red glare. Philza just chuckles, allowing himself to be pulled, Theseus in tow, towards the circle. Techno follows behind, his eyes never leaving Theseus. The flowers of the circle do their best to stay out of the less than careful footfalls of his family, but Theseus tries to make sure he doesn’t step on any of their delicate petals.
As soon as they pass the threshold of the circle, it's like his lungs inflate more than they ever have in his life. He gasps like he was punched in the stomach before exhaling cool air. He looks up at his father in surprise as the air around him tickles his cheeks with how potent the magic is.
Phil just smiles at him and gives him a little squeeze, “Feels funny?” Theseus nods but follows his family into the light on the other side of the circle. He isn’t sure how he’s never noticed it before, the glow of it drawing him in like a moth to a flame. Wilbur passes through first, arms sweeping wide to catch the light between his fingers. Theseus can’t help but hold out his hand as they pass through as well, his memories from using the gate are fuzzy and whimsical, something rare and mystical to him.
The light greets him like a friend, the rays twisting around his fingers like a hand grasping his own, it pulls a little, making him stumble in surprise. Techno laughs behind him, “What did you expect? You’re teasing it after bein’ gone for so long.” Teasing? Is it alive?
His confusion must show because his father is quick to elaborate, “The barrier, or gate, is like the trees, it lives and has magic but it’s more like a spoiled dog than anything.” The light dims for a moment before it comes flickering back playfully just as bright as before, “You can pass through, it’s just happy to have one of the lost returned.”
Theseus nods before leaning into the light, if he holds his breath that's between him and the barrier. It hums with joy once he dives in, the magic-making his skin warm and almost making him sneeze. It’s only a moment before he’s on the other side.
He can hear Wil laughing at him and the murmuring of Techno and Phil crossing but he’s too caught up in the land that sprawls in front of him. It’s snowy, like all his dreams recalled, the glow of it shining like stars. He can see snow-covered flowers dotting the landscape but they do not wilt. The cool wind that wraps around him like a hug does not chill him like the winter winds of the village. He’s not cold, his pants and shoes are not wet but he stands in the snow all the same. Breathing in deep, he feels like he’s just taken a mouthful of air after being underwater. It’s everything he remembers.
Wilbur snaps him out of his thoughts with a hand on his shoulder, “You alright? Not feeling funny?” He doesn’t look too concerned but the honey-gold of his eyes twinges just a little more yellow. His face and body look less and less like the human glamour he wears and more like the faerie he is as the air wraps around him.
“No, I feel fine,” Theseus says, looking at his hands expectantly, waiting for them to twist back into shape, like his brother just did/
“It’ll be a little longer before he changes, Wil, ” Phil says into the cold air, his words catching the breeze and molding it to be used to speak, “ and he’s been gone long enough for the change to make him feel a little ill.”
Eyes widening, Wilbur puts his hand to Theseus’ forehead, pushing his hair out of his eyes, “You don’t feel sick, do you? Oh gods we have to get you home.”
He grabs Theseus under the arms and begins to lift him before Techno steps in, “Alright, calm down, he’s not gonna die, again, from changin’ back,” he pauses for a moment as he guides Theseus back to the ground and looks to their father, “Right?”
Philza shakes his head, “ It won’t kill him, but we should get him home, rest is going to be crucial.”
“Then let's go, c’mon, you can play in the snow when you feel better,” Wilbur actually scoops him up into his arms this time and begins to walk towards what Theseus knows is the path to their home, nestled between thick trees and rolling hills. Wilbur only gets about three steps before Techno swoops in to take him out of his brother’s arms.
Wilbur gives a squawk of surprise and goes to speak but Techno cuts him off, “You’ve had enough time with him, my turn.” He takes off running the second the words leave his mouth, stepping on top of the snow as if he weighed nothing. The breeze laughs along with them as they barrel through the snowy hilltops, Wilbur at their heels.
Theseus grabs onto the fluffy fur collar of Techno’s cloak as they dash over the snow, he hasn’t been able to get a word in about them tossing him around but he’s having too much fun going along with the ride. At some point, Techno just begins to slide over the powdered hills, his feet acting more like skates than actual shoes. Techno must think they’re in the clear because he lets out a hearty laugh, only holding Theseus tighter. He begins to laugh with him before two arms grab him by the shoulders and he’s being lifted into the sky.
He gives a shriek of surprise but turns to see his father’s kind eyes as they lift higher and higher into the air, cabin in full view. Philza just smiles hard at his sons shouting at him below between wing beats. Theseus catches a few curses thrown at his father but most of the chatter is about how wings are ‘cheating’.
Turning his face into the wind, which is definitely parting so that he can actually look forward without it blowing in his eyes, Theseus just beams, excited for what is to come.
______
Turns out they weren’t being dramatic about how badly the ‘change’ feels. It doesn’t hurt, per se, but it defiantly aches. His fingers throb and his teeth hurt, his lower back feels like it’s on fire and he just feels dizzy. All of his family is fussing over him, Wilbur can barely stand to leave the room he’s in, his old bedroom that was left untouched. Techno looms in the doorway but mainly just stands outside in the hall. Phil makes trips in and out with things they need, like food, water. All and all, not a very fun time.
It’s about a day before he can sit up again, and three more before he’s out of bed. Wilbur looms behind him like a shadow. Techno is always in the next room over. Philza fusses like a mother hen. He tries to tell them that he’s feeling better, way better actually now that the sight of his own hands doesn’t send him spiraling, but they all just insist that he take it easy.
He enjoys the company, oftentimes happy that he doesn’t have to seek them out, his anxiety that they might not love him as much as they used to wash away with every time Wilbur climbs into bed with him because the one night he didn’t Theseus had nightmares, every time Techno sits in his room reading to him and teaching him to read after he found out that he never learned, every time Philza whispers to him in his low voice answering any question Theseus has.
Days meld into weeks and he’s outside running around with the trees that cradled him as a baby. Tail, that he is overjoyed to have, lashing as he chases his brothers through the wood. They play with him between and during their little ‘lessons’, a little class of sorts where they teach him how to read better and how to avoid falling victim to another hunter’s tricks, not that he ever wants to see a human again.
When his brothers are away at meetings, his father takes him to the city, where fair folk walk shoulder to shoulder with all kinds of creatures. They go to get sweets at one of the little shops he has bleary memories from. His father shows him the court building, a grand thing that stretches indefinitely out into the wilderness, build of ice and snow. He fits in here, no patterns to dodge between and spiteful people to avoid, just fae folk just like him.
Every day is different but finally, he can rest. The call, the rope, the door, whatever it was that sung to him is quiet now. Content. Now he breathes easy knowing he has a place to fall where he will always be caught.
He clicks into place like he never left. A seat by the table, his spot on the floor by the couch, his room, his place in his home never altered, never changed. They love him, and he loves them. He has and always will belong here. A too strange boy with new, or old, too long claws, a strange tail, and shifting sapphire eyes, with his too strange family.
Falling into his place in the living room, leaning on the couch, Theseus sighs, content. His father is in the kitchen, probably making tea or a quick snack. Techno is sitting in his reading chair, flipping the pages of his book every so often, his hair tied up in an intricate braid. Wilbur is prodding at the fire, well more so arguing with it because everything thing here seems to have a mind of its own. Theseus just closes his eyes and relaxes, basking in the quiet company.
Someone plops down heavy beside him, pulling him to lean on their shoulder. He doesn’t even have to open his eyes to know it’s Wilbur. Going slack in the gentle hold, Wilbur idly runs his hands through his hair, “Hm, you’re quiet today, Thes.”
Theseus opens his eyes and glares a little, he opens his mouth to start screaming or shouting just to be a bitch but Wilbur is throwing his hand over his mouth before he can, “No, Techno will kill us both if you start that.”
The brother in question glances up momentarily before returning to his book, “So he does have a brain.”
Wilbur flicks him off with the hand that was covering Theseus’ mouth, freeing him from his temporary muzzle, “I’m not sure if he does.”
Whipping around to face him with an offended face, Wilbur grabs him by the shoulders, “My dearest little brother, how could you do this to me?”
“I haven’t done anything,” Theseus blinks at him innocently, “I think you might be losing it.”
“Hearin’ voices, Wil?”
“Like you’re one to talk.”
Techno snorts, Theseus doesn’t get the joke but whatever. He just leans back into Wilbur, huffing.
“Gremlin,” Wilbur mumbles but he goes back to playing with his hair all the same.
Philza returns from his kitchen adventures, he hands Techno a cup of tea before rounding the sofa and sitting down on it. His wings spread over the seat, black feathers catching the light of the fire. They all fall quiet again, Techno reading, Phil sketching in the little book he brought with him, Theseus and Wilbur resting.
It’s perfect. This is where he always belonged. He feels no need to carve himself a place because his family simply parted to allow him back in. He knows they would do anything to keep him here, nothing could take him away again. It’s safe, he’s safe. Techno promised, and he trusts him like he trusts Phil and Wilbur. Nothing will take him again.
He dozes against Wilbur’s side, knowing that he’ll always be allowed to. This is his reality now, not just an ideal dream. He smiles to himself, happy at last.