#disappointing lack of faeries content around here so i am taking a quick break from pv and sm content

[thebiscuitlabryinth]

Faerie Cookies are born with a song on their tongue, and a tune in their hearts – a gift from the trees, and the wind, and the moon. Music is baked into their very dough, which is why it is considered the purest form of communication, and why all their records are scribed in sheet music.

It is natural for a Faerie Cookie to hum their own melody when idle, almost compulsive, as if it cannot be contained by their body. Even Elder Faerie Cookie, wise and great, cannot resist the pull. When he serenades the sky, everyone stops to listen and harmonise, his voice strong and breathtaking even among the perfect tones of the voices of the Faeriewoods.

The only Faerie who doesn't sing is Mercurial Knight Cookie.

Really, in all the years Silverbell Cookie has known him, he has never heard a single note from him. He's always found it a little strange, compared to the neverending symphony that is the rest of the kingdom. Even compared to the other Silver Knights, who are more careful about following their songs' urges but still tap the rhythm along their weapons, Mercurial Knight is unique in his absolute lack of music.

Silverbell has only ever brought the topic up with him once, in a moment of pure impulse when he thought it was just the two of them.

"Why don't you sing?" He had asked, words blunt but softened by the sweet harmony of his own tune, melting into the sentence from his earlier humming. His bells had chimed along with it, stopping abruptly when he realised he had spoken aloud, with a little tinge of embarrassment. Still, he hadn't backed down, simply smiling sheepishly. "I've been meaning to ask. I don't think I've ever heard you before."

He hadn't said that it was strange, because that wouldn't have been very nice, but he had still heard it beneath his own words, despite his best efforts.

Mercurical Knight took no offense, though he rarely does with Silverbell. Instead, his expression had pinched slightly with confusion, glancing over at him. "Because there isn't any need for me to. My duty is to the Guardian. I cannot allow myself to be distracted by something trivial like singing."

It had been an earnest answer, and exactly the sort of answer Silverbell should have expected, but he had still found himself surprised. "But how do you ignore the call of your song? I know your oath is your highest priority, but I can't imagine always resisting its call."

Silverbell, himself, feels the pull of his melody at least once a day, if not more. To constantly resist it, he had thought, would surely drive him crazy.

"I don't have a song." Mercurial Knight had replied easily, as if that hadn't immediately shook Silverbell to the core, disbelieving. That was even crazier – no melody at all, not a single note floating within his head? Wasn't that lonely?

Mercurial Knight, who had become very familiar with Silverbell by that point, seemed to read his mind, the slightest amusement in his eyes. "It is as I always say. On the day the Silver Blessing was bestowed upon me, I cast aside everything. My flavour, my scent, and my song. Whatever it may have once been matters very little to me."

Silverbell had been unable to respond immediately, trying to fathom it. During his stunned silence, another voice had arrived to answer in his stead. "Does that not simply mean that the song you now carry is that of the Silver Tree instead?"

Silverbell had jumped a little, startled by Elder Faerie's appearance, and had hurriedly fixed his posture, well aware that he was still on duty. Mercurial Knight adjusted his posture too, though considering it had already been perfect before Elder Faerie's arrival, it hadn't made much of a difference.

Mercurial Knight had hesitated for a moment, before inclining his head in a slight nod. "If you say so, Your Majesty, then I must believe that to be true."

Elder Faerie, in all his brillance, had approached them with grace, a knowing look on his face. Of course, if Silverbell could tell Mercurial Knight had been doubtful, Elder Faerie certainly could.

"You may have not felt the urge yet, but not all songs surface frequently. Even I only feel mine on rare occasions." Elder Faerie had explained, almost gently. "The Silver Tree's song will surely come to you when the time is right."

It was Mecurial Knight, then, that had been at a loss for words, blinking slowly. He had glanced away a moment later to regain his composure, in a way Silverbell would dare say was shy. "...Thank you for your kind words, Your Majesty, but it truly doesn't matter to me. Silverbell was asking me about my song, that's all."

Elder Faerie had hummed in understanding, looking towards Silverbell for a split second, before returning his attention to Mercurial Knight. "Well, that doesn't make my words any less true." Then he had smiled, an elegant, mysterious curve. "There's no rush, of course, but I do hope to hear your song someday. You know, I have a feeling both of your voices would harmonise quite well."

Mercurial Knight had, somewhat helplessly, declared that he would be honoured to share his song with Elder Faerie if it ever arose, and that had been the end of it.

Or maybe this was the true end of it, because the opportunity to share his song with Elder Faerie had now been swept away by the winds of time, never to return.

Faeries do not mourn. To return to the soil beneath the Silver Tree is what awaits all of them, eventually, so they do not mourn. They only celebrate and honour the lives that were lost, and to do that, they organise a grand feast.

The atmosphere is light and jolly, a celebration of Guardians both new and old, and Silverbell is lingering by Mercurial Knight's side, a cup in his hands. Usually, he would have flitted off to mingle with the others by now, but after everything that has happened today, he feels like he should stay with him, at least for a few moments more.

The Silver Tree stands tall behind their backs, the evils within trapped securely once more, and its shadow falls upon Elder Faerie's final moments. Silverbell's eyes linger on the place where they watched him disappear. Inexplicably, it does not feel like he is gone.

A melody, low and stilted, imperfect, begins to drift in the air, curling around them. It takes Silverbell a moment to realise it, and when he does, he lets out a tiny gasp.

Mercurial Knight is singing.

He turns to watch him with wide eyes and, mortifyingly, they feel damp as he does. Silverbell doesn't cry – his voice is too high, and his eyes naturally dewey, so he hates to makes himself seem any weaker when he is a perfectly capable knight – but it almost feels like a near thing.

After all, music is the purest form of communication, and he is hearing Mercurial Knight's song for the first time.

It takes Mercurial Knight a moment to find his footing, but when he does, his voice smooths out, running rich like liquid silver. All Faeries have voices designed for song, so it is no surprise that it is beautiful.

Mercurial Knight does not look at him as he sings, steady but still quiet. Instead, he holds his glaive perfectly straight, his gaze lingering on an invisible grave. It is bittersweet, a gift come too late, but the song itself is not sorrowful, because the Faeries are not in the habit to mourn.

No, the tune is powerful and majestic, determined and confident. Before long, Silverbell finds himself drawn into it, his bells tinkling on beat as he sings along.

As it turns out, Elder Faerie was right, as he always is. Their voices blend together wonderfully, slotting atop one another as if they had been waiting endlessly for the opportunity. They sing, and sing, and sing, and though they barely look at each other, Silverbell feels closer to Mercurial Knight than he has ever been.

He hopes, somehow, Elder Faerie is hearing their duet. It's dedicated to him, after all.