Gift of the Songweaver

---

There were still so many things in the Feywild that struck Merla with a sense of awe. The great cavern that served as the heart of the Witching Court was no exception. Giant was an understatement. Vast would have worked if the queen wasn’t a giant herself, so the scale had to be raised still further. Vibrant green ferns adorned many portions of the cavern walls, mixing with the phosphorescent mushrooms to produce a level of colourful natural decoration surprising for the inside of a mountain.

The Daughter of Summer held the soft leather tube in her hands a little closer. Since her ascension, the Queen of Copper and Crystal had been inundated with countless fey wishing to gain favour with the new Fey Paramount, or so Lady Josephine had said. Merla had hoped such visits would have receded by now, but apparently Queen Nicnevin’s popularity had only increased.

Which was how Merla found herself somewhere in the middle of a long line of fey waiting to see the Queen of the Witches.

It was almost a form of entertainment for the witches, to see what these fey supplicants would offer, beg, barter or subtly try and threaten Queen Nicnevin with. Merla had no request of the new Fey Paramount. All she wanted was to give her a singing tapestry that would adorn the Queen’s walls wherever she wished.

Or be tossed onto the metaphorical pile of junk, the Queen would never look at her gift ever again.

“Remind me why I chose to do this?” Merla silently asks her winged companion beside her.

“You wanted to give the new Fey Ascendant a Song, one to commemorate her and her court’s rise in prominence,” Astra replies, glancing down at her mistress.

“And why did I think this was a good idea?” Merla pouts, glancing around at those ahead and behind her.

“Only you can answer that, Merla,” Astra says. She shakes her head a little and the light from the phosphorescent mushrooms sends ripples of violet rainbows down her mane. “But I remember you telling me it had something to do with sharing a Song.”

“Yeah…”

When Merla had been weaving the tapestry she had felt so inspired, the music flowing from her in waves into the threads that formed the story depicted. But now, in this vast chamber, she was beginning to wonder if her little gift wasn’t everything she thought it was.

Queen Nicnevin sits bathed in moonlight – reflected down from the colossal (another big word) quartz crystal wedged into the peak of the chamber. Her throne was little more than moss covering a large boulder and her robes, while beautiful, did not speak to some insurmountable prestige or power – her eyes did that, bold and absolute. As if to balance this presentation, beside her rocky seat lies a huge pile of gifts, a display of wealth that was exactly as intimidating as Merla knew it was meant to be. Statues as tall as the queen herself, jewelry that glittered with intelligence as well as luster, chests and boxes so heavily decorated that they cannot possibly contain anything other than the most expensive of gifts. The fey had been generous, or perhaps many shrewd bargains had been made.

The figure ahead of Merla and Astra is just finishing their presentation – a tall Yeti, smooth fur wrapped in a fine woolen vest, had brought a beautiful stringed viol of some form. Closing up the case and handing it to an attendant elf, she bows and moves aside, revealing the far smaller form of Merla behind.

“Your gift pleases me, Warmth of an Embrace in the Snow. You may proceed with my blessing,” Queen Nicnevin intones formally, but with seemingly genuine gratitude. Then the huge face of the Giant Queen, framed in burning copper hair, turns to look down at the halfling before her, and those powerful eyes narrow slightly in partial recognition. “Please, step forward. You are known as Merla, are you not?”

Merla does as Queen Nicnevin asks, stepping up to be just outside the beam of moonlight the giantess is bathed in, Astra a step behind her. With a grace only those who share a bond deeper than telepathy have, the two bow low before the Queen of Copper and Crystal, Merla resting two fingers on her forehead just under her diadem. After holding the bow for a beat, they both stand up.

“That I am, Fey Paramount Nicnevin,” Merla answers. “I am humbled you know my name…”

Her eyes drift over to the massive pile of offerings. Merla takes a breath and makes herself look back up to the striking eyes gazing down at her.

“…I have come to offer this gift to you. It is a Song, one to honour you and your Court’s Ascension.” Merla tilts the rather sizeable tube that rises up to double her height towards the Giant Queen, unsure if she should show it to her – or if she would even want to see it.

Especially since she just received, from what Merla saw, a very fine instrument. Surely someone else has already given Queen Nicnevin a gift as equally beautiful as Merla’s. Perhaps she was wrong about this whole thing…

Feeling a gentle but encouraging mental nudge from Astra, Merla suddenly asks, “Would you like to see it?”

Queen Nicnevin says nothing, but smiles gently and nods in assent.

Tilting the tube so it is nearly flat on the ground, Merla unclasps the top and starts pulling out the seven foot tall tapestry. The fey waiting behind her start to murmur, some clearly expecting the piece to be heavy. But Merla is able to bring it out with great ease. She had threaded two long rods of scintillating clear quartz crystal through woven loops already – and in this moment she is glad she did.

Astra gently picks up the leather tube by its strap with her teeth, putting it off to the side as her mistress does a quick check to ensure that no threads were out of place. When she returns, the winged unicorn takes one of the shimmering rods in her teeth very delicately. She then positions herself so her body can be used as a form of support whilst the still rolled up tapestry is just inside the circle of moonlight.

Merla glances up to Queen Nicnevin one more time, a glint of nervous excitement sparking in her gold ringed eyes. Then she steps forward into the silvery light and unrolls the tapestry.

At first, there is nothing – no figures, no scenery or anything anywhere depicted in its threads, just a shifting, deep bluey-green space. Then, slowly, as the reflected light from the immense quartz overhead is picked up by the two quartz rods on either end of the nine foot long tapestry, the silver-white light starts to race through the weave and an outline of a figure emerges from the dark.

A woman, a giantess, floats in the air. Draped in shifting green robes, her fiery copper hair drifts around her, so lifelike to the point that it could be mistaken for being woven with Queen Nicnevin’s very hair. Below her is a pristine crystal clear lake, still as a mirror. But it is not the Giant Queen’s reflection that is seen in its waters. Instead there are vignettes of the other courts – Summer and Winter, Spring and Autumn, Twilight and Dawn, Desert and Wandering – and many more. The strongest are closest to the unmistakable flying figure of the Queen of Copper and Crystal, occupying a sizable portion of the waters, but there are so many, all arrayed in muted watercolours. An alpine landscape surrounds the lake with the distinctive and monumental mountain that houses the heart of the Witching Court seen just to the right of centre, behind the lake.

But what draws the eye more than the striking depiction of the Queen Paramount is the dark orb being held aloft with her upward reaching hand. As the silvery light from the crystal rods funnels to this central point at the top of the tapestry, the circle of threads begin to swirl with light. At first it looks like a huge, silver ring. Then the ring fills with light, becoming a big, bright and beautiful full moon. As the last midnight blue thread shifts to white and begins to glow – brighter than the crystal rods which seem to be both a source of light and how the tapestry is alight – it awakens into life.

A song begins with the softest harpsong. Everything and everyone falls silent as the tapestry begins to sing.

        Kal’dorei, Kal’dorei
        Asha’re, Asha’re
        Leyashnu, bela’thil

        Kal’dorei, Kal’dorei
        Asha’re, Asha’re
        Lei’alah, Darnassus, bela’thil

        Kal’dorei, Tel’nodel adore
        Lei’alas Teldrassil
        Kal’dorei, Tel’nodel adore
        Lei’alas anu, bela’thil

Merla’s beautiful voice, layered amongst harp, flute, drum, and oud, sings the Ancient Sylvan words as the Giant Queen’s green robes and copper hair subtly move in the wind of the music. The vignettes of the Fey courts in the lake come into focus when the light from the moon above shines down on them. But then they fade into stillness as either her hair or robes shift to block the silvery light. It is a breathtaking work of art and magic. There are collective Ooo’s and Ahh’s from the fey who have come closer to see what the Daughter of Summer has brought to their Queen.

As Merla looks back up at the Queen she realises with a small start that there are two women sitting on the throne now, blurred into one another. One is leaning forward on the throne, tilting her head to regard the tapestry from different angles as the scene plays out; the other is sitting back, her eyes closed and calm, listening intently to the music. As the performance of the tapestry finally fades, both figures sit back up realigning into a single figure, and after a long held moment, the Queen Paramount lets out a contented breath.

“Magnificent.” Her tone is calm, regal even now, but warm with joy. “Your gift is well received, Merla of Summer. I have seen innumerable impressive works of art, even just today. This is… thoughtful.” An eyebrow twitches up just slightly, “And flattering. Your work is immaculate. Well done.”

Merla’s smile is dazzling. She bows low in gratitude. “I am pleased to hear you say it, Fey Paramount.”

Queen Nicnevin gestures and a small flock of sprites emerge from the shadows and pick up the tapestry by the quartz rods, holding it up closer for her inspection. There are some murmurs from the crowd, clearly this level of interaction is unusual from their queen. Her eyes flicker over it, irises changing colour a few times like lenses. She nods, satisfied, and the sprites return the tapestry down to where Merla had unrolled it.

“Your work is intricate, Merla, and I respect it.” She sits back in her throne, looking out over the assembled court. “In my realm, you shall be known as Songweaver. Depart in peace, Merla Songweaver.”

Merla feels a tingling sensation run down her spine at the name and her smile becomes more earnest.

With a nod to the sprites, she starts to roll the tapestry up again, the song fading as the silvery light leaves the threads, once more returning to that stage-black state with its deep swirling bluey-green clouds. Astra helps her mistress as best as she can and, as quickly as she brought it out, the singing tapestry is once more in the large leather tube being handed off to the elf attendant from before.

“May this Song bless the sunny days and moonlit nights of your rule, Fey Paramount Nicnevin,” Merla Songweaver says, bowing together with Astra once more, the synchronicity a subtle flourish all of its own. Before turning away she hesitates, wondering if now is the time to ask about the Aegis Accords and the guarantorship the Fey Courts have to them. But Merla sees the long line of fey and feels the moment has passed.

As she steps away from the pool of moonlight, and Nicnevin’s attention moves to the next fey in the procession, a figure steps up to walk beside Merla.

“An impressive effort, young halfling. Nicnevin is careful with her thanks, fey being what we are, and to give you a title is about as close as she gets. And Songweaver is a fine title indeed.”

Merla studies this Fey, one eyebrow raising in curiosity, her pleasant smile steadfast as a midsummer’s sun. The woman beside her stands nearly seven feet tall, poised with bright, well-kept green skin. The flowing black cloak and tall hat was almost laughably stereotypical for a witch’s outfit, but she seemed to wear it like a mantle, a uniform of office.

“Sister Sunbeam,” she introduces herself. “Itinerant ambassador for the court. Pleasure to make your acquaintance, Songweaver. Can I assist you with anything before you depart?” Her eagerness, though unmistakable, does not appear to have an ulterior motive. But Merla is aware of what Queen Nicnevin had just done, and this is a court of opportunities.

The tingling sensation has not gone away either.

“The pleasure is also with me, Sister Sunbeam,” Merla says. “Itinerant ambassador, you say? Hmm, perhaps there is something you could assist me with. It concerns those on the Material Plane – an alliance of nations and a certain Accord that the previous Fey Paramount signed as guarantor…”

“Oh?” Sunbeam arched an eyebrow. “I presume that would be the signing that cost Queen Sarastra, may-her-evening-be-ever-glorious, her life? What is your question?” Her expression was schooled, patient, careful.

Merla is also very aware that this is a court of bargains and deals. That is not what she came here for today. But any information she wishes to find out could come with a price. Astra stands behind her mistress, a steadfast beacon, but also a large and sparkly backdrop that could be very distracting for those easily persuaded to look.

“The threads that tie the Feywild to the Material Plane run deep – deeper for some than for others,” Merla starts, her smile becoming a bit more friendly. “What happens in one realm affects the other. My questions are thus: With our new Fey Paramount chosen, will she honour the final act of her predecessor, or will she rescind the decision? To what degree or in what spirit will Fey Paramount Nicnevin honour the Aegis Accords?” An innocuous shadow passes over Merla’s face, sharpening her already more fey-like features to the point that any trace of her hin-heritage is gone. “How will the Queen of Copper and Crystal have the Fey Courts fulfil the role of guarantor?”

Sister Sunbeam turns to look at Merla directly. “Very specific questions for a weaver,” she says, not unkindly. “Your reputation precedes you, young Copperkettle. I would be happy to answer these three questions, merely for the honour of being remembered well by you next we meet. Sounds amenable?”

“So long as the answers are to the best and fullest of your knowledge honest and true, I will remember you well Sister Sunbeam,” Merla says, inclining her head in agreement.

“Excellent then, Songweaver,” she steps smartly ahead and spins around, seemingly in presentation mode. “Let me preface by saying that I can only speak from what I have heard, or believe to be true. The only one who could be absolute about the Queen’s own mind is the Queen herself.” Pausing for a beat to let the warning sit, she begins to speak very rapidly and animatedly, ticking items off on her long fingers.

“To your first question, my understanding from speaking to her majesty is that she has no intention of dismissing any standing agreements. Her predecessor signed the Accords, so she will honour them.

“To the second, she will honour them in full, to the best of her abilities, with some caveats around the fact that she is still coming to terms with the many responsibilities and demands for her time that the Ascendancy has placed upon Nicnevin.

“To the third, I do not know the specifics of the clause, but if the Queen is required to step in at some point to enforce where the Accords fail to do so, she will look first and foremost to provide that strength herself. Standard practice in such matters is for this sort of effort to only be delegated out to other courts if there is some great necessity for it or some other personal interest, and even then only with appropriate balance and compensation.”

She stops, and takes a long breath. “Do these answers satisfy you, Songweaver Copperkettle?” She seems to be addressing Merla in different ways throughout the conversation, testing out the new appellation in different formats.

Merla can feel Astra trying to hold back amused laughter at the speed-run of information Sister Sunbeam just gave them. It was an interesting way to tell her, but Merla appreciated it. Some fey cannot help being who they are in any situation but do their best to make it less tempting to fall into familiar habits. She clearly meant to leave a good impression too, and it was that more than anything that saw the corner of Merla’s mouth lifting up ever so slightly.

“They do, Sister Sunbeam,” Merla answers. She gestures to where the Giantess sits listening to a redcap make their bid to gain her favour by offering up his cap, stained a rich and deep crimson, the proof of his cunning against his enemies. “It is quite the responsibility Queen Nicnevin has now. I can only imagine how much she has to do. I appreciate you taking the time to answer my questions. As for how to address me, in my Court I am called the Daughter of Summer or Lady Merla. But here…” She smiles. “Merla Songweaver, or just Songweaver, will be good.”

As she says the title, the tingling sensation finally settles somewhere deep under her skin.

“Then, Merla Songweaver, it has been a pleasure to make your acquaintance. I truly hope our paths cross again in the future.” Sister Sunbeam bows slightly, out of respect rather than deference, and sweeps away into the shadows of a nearby tunnel.

Merla stands there a moment longer, feeling as if something has shifted in the status quo. The first time she had felt it was after the Rift War when she took the first step on her current path.

“Shall we return home?” Astra asks softly. She comes up to Merla’s side and bumps her muzzle into her chest, an attempt to break her reverie.

“Do you remember when I asked if you think it is possible for someone’s Name to change?” Merla asks unexpectedly.

Astra regards her mistress for a long moment before answering. “I do.”

A small, ever so slightly wondering and wicked smile lifts the corner of her mouth. “Perhaps it truly is possible,” Merla says, her blue and gold eyes shining. “Come, let’s go back to Daring.”

Merla spins around, pink and blonde tresses fanning out with a flair, before walking towards the Mountain’s exit, a slight skip to her step and a song in her heart.