Ooh, I'm havin' a thought.

Back to Fae!Angus, right?

Schimmelspore said something like this ages ago, that Angus as a fae could've been a changeling. Now at the time, I was thinking, "I'm not sure how that would work, especially when Rohan seems to be the better fit for it" - y'know, because Rohan has a brother (who could've been the changeling) with actual demon blood.

But like

I'm thinking now

Maybe I was being too simple about it. Or overcomplicating it or something. 🤔

Because now it seems totally obvious: Angus as the changeling that took the place of whatever human child it was.

I guess it's because I've been rereading all these threads? And one core piece of my headcanon I've always kept is how Angus first encounters Rohan by finding the kid knocked out in the middle of a forest. I don't know why it's such a vivid image in my mind - Angus hovering over Rohan as Rohan wakes up, being the first thing he sees as the world comes back into focus - but it is. The part that must've been throwing me off is how they would get there.

Rohan doesn't mention where he was before they met, which stands out, because he talks about never knowing his real family all the time. But again, I'm overthinking it: wherever he was, he wasn't with his 'real' family. And because he's obviously willing to settle down after Cathbad gives him a bed, wherever he'd been before must've been shitty enough that Rohan needed to get away from them.

So, Occam's Razor of clichés: probably a horrible orphanage. Assuming orphanages existed back then - it could've been a shitty farm that took kids in as free labour, and had the older kids raising the younger ones as future free labour. That gives me a reason for why anyone would be taking care of a baby, why Rohan knew it wasn't his real home, and why he eventually left: it sucked.

It doesn't explain that "You were stolen from me" line from Maeve very well, though. The reason I thought the changeling idea applied to him better was the 'bad deal' angle I could work in with that: Maeve traded Rohan for a monster she could use for a weapon, thought she'd been tricked into only getting a half-demon, and couldn't get a refund. 'Stolen.' Or just outright targeted by changelings and stolen that way, but 'stolen' in that sense implies a sort of "You took my baby :(" grief. Maeve isn't grieving Rohan. It's more "Hey, you ripped me off >:( I overpaid" energy.

But I'll figure out what that means later. 🤔 Whatever kind of deal Maeve made must've ended with Rohan getting taken away and dumped somewhere loveless (for him to want to leave) but loving enough for him to be fed and cared for as a useless baby. Exploitative child labour farm works for that.

The other option is, "A very nice family took me in but they all died :(" or "They were nice but I felt my destiny calling me." I could see the show picking one of those (because why would it pick Child Labour Farm), but they sound like cop-outs. Why wouldn't Rohan ever mention that family, then? To me, he doesn't bring up where he used to live either because he doesn't remember (which is what my old Fae!Angus idea was going for), or he hates them and doesn't think they're worth talking about (Child Labour Farm).

Anyway, it's important for me to sort that out in my head 'cause it clears the way to talk about Angus. Why was Rohan in the forest that day? Deliberately leaving or escaping where he was.

So why was Angus there?

I've talked about how Angus never mentions wanting to know who his family is, and how I take it as proof that he already knows. As in, Angus isn't an orphan. He's a runaway. I'm picturing a similar kind of thing as what I just described for Rohan, except this was Angus' actual family: awful, shitty, abusive, so eventually, he left. And as he wanders around, he finds Rohan.

Putting a Fae lens on it it still ends up working. Maybe even a little better? Maybe it's more grimly ironic? Because Angus doesn't mention wanting to know his family, but Rohan does, and Angus never seems bothered by that. He doesn't call it wishful thinking or a waste of thinking. Like, I'd imagine someone who ran from an abusive home saying, "Be careful what you wish for, Rohan. You might find your family and hate them. Trust me, it happens." But the closest he gets is getting mad at Rohan for placing Lugad, his blood half-brother, above the family he's been raised by. Like he's saying - well, he does say it: "You'd trust that monster out there more than the family that raised you?" It's focused on behaviour. If Lugad had been super chill from the beginning, Angus probably wouldn't've been so hostile about it.

I'm getting ahead of myself lmao

Back it up: what am I picturing here?

Fae!Angus. The fairy version, before he goes into the human world. I dunno how old he is, but from what I read in other books, he's still gonna be able to think like a child even if he's lived for longer than that. Sort of a Peter Pan situation, where he and the others never grow up.

He sees others doing their swaps. He sees the human kids come in and eventually become fairies as well when the magic passes into them: they're eating the food, they're in the realm, it all completes the transformation.

Eventually, he gets curious and goes to see what humans are like, and he finds a family he slowly gets attached to from afar. They seem nice. And nice in a way where he's beginning to understand why other fairies were making their own trades; he wants to be a part of this.

The longer he spends among his kind - loud, tricky, squabbling, childish imps - the more he wants to move on to that soft, warm home and be loved. He mulls it over for what could be ages, but eventually decides to do it.

Angus makes the trade.

It's easy. The human kid doesn't take much to lure away, and he's helped capture enough kids as part of other fairies' lures that he knows how excited everyone is to join and help. In the meantime, Angus uses his magic to become that human's perfect twin.

Except...

Well, it's still Angus. The job gets done but there are a few details missing. Maybe Angus (being so pretty in the show 👀💖) thought he'd be - like, a better-looking version of the kid as an upgrade for his new parents. Or maybe he just missed making a change or two because he didn't think it would matter. Either way, there's something ever, ever so slightly 'off.'

The family can tell. They're stupid humans, so it isn't right away. But they notice something's strange and make little comments to each other about it. Angus can hear and realizes he's gotta fix those mistakes: ears, nose, eyebrows, whatever they're guessing might be 'it,' he adjusts during the night.

But he's still 'off.'

The family starts getting tense. Then angry. First at each other, for being so lost in crazed paranoia. Then at him, for having something wrong with him. Then at each other again, for suggesting they do something about it. No matter what he changes now, he can't kill their suspicion. What he has killed is any hope of the home he made this trade for.

... So he leaves.

Just like that.

I mean, Rohan says it too: "When there's trouble, Angus is gone." Why wouldn't it already be a habit? There's trouble at this home, so he leaves it.

And maybe he's wandering back to his own kind again, or maybe he's wandering aimlessly. That second one would be interesting, as if he's not allowed to go back after he makes the trade. Like it's sink or swim out there, and even if the family you joined tries to kill you, it's no reason to go back to the other fairies. They don't live as a 'family' that way. There's no unconditional love or acceptance, which was what drew Angus into this swap in the first place.

But while he's on the move, he cuts through a forest and gets distracted from his thoughts (and rage and grief and embarrassment)... by some ginger kid knocked on his ass in the middle of this place. He goes to check it out, hovering over that kid's head, which is when Rohan starts to open his eyes.

What I like is how it fits in with the show, recontextualizing some of it. When Rohan says in the wish episode that he'd use it to know who his family is, Angus gives a wistful, uncommitted sound. Then he says it'd be a good wish, which Rohan seems to appreciate. But unlike with Ivar and Deirdre, Angus doesn't try to pivot it back to what he wants to wish for instead (gold). We know he can't relate to Ivar and Deirdre's things at all. But he can relate to Rohan's wish. He knows what sort of fantasy Rohan is picturing, because it's the same one Angus traded his life among the fae for. And deep down, part of him would still like to have that. But he's sticking with the wish for gold, because he's had his chance at that fantasy. He screwed it up. Getting it again would only be a second chance to ruin it.

Gold can't hurt him. He can't disappoint gold.

Then when it comes to Lugad, with Rohan putting so much emphasis on them being brothers - Angus can get that too. Brothers! Amazing! But the way his 'brother' is treating him, trying to kill him, Rohan shouldn't want that. He should walk away, like Angus did. And the fact that Rohan isn't walking off is driving Angus a little crazy.

When Rohan finally admits to the others that they're his family, that's when Angus gives a muted reaction. You'd think he'd be celebrating Rohan seeing the light, but no. It makes me wonder if he thinks Rohan is settling. Not that it isn't nice that Rohan agreed to it at last, but that it's kind of sad they all have to pretend this is "as good" as having a true, blood-related (by magic or otherwise) family to call his own. Angus will play into it, obviously. That's what friends do. But deep down, they all know this isn't... 'real,' right?

Maybe that's the fae in him talking.

But maybe it's the same fae that's never called Rohan anything other than his best friend. 'Almost brothers' isn't brothers, and one thing Angus might've always liked about Rohan is that they both understood this. So maybe it's sad seeing Rohan seek refuge in the delusion. But it's all Rohan has now, right? He tried to make the swap, and his family tried to kill him. Angus won't abandon the guy, but it's such a farce to call this a replacement - even though Angus tried calling them a family first, back when he was yelling at Rohan for not wanting to fight Lugad - that he's going to prove how not-a-real-family they are and ask Deirdre for a widdle kiss uwu

He can't help himself. Angus knows it's not the same thing. He's okay with tricking others, especially if it helps bring Rohan some tiny comfort, but he can't trick himself here.

It's not the same.

I'd want to follow this into an arc where Angus has to eventually go back to his people. The 'failure' - or worse, the adult, because Angus actually grew up - returning to seek help with some part of Rohan's quest or Fin Varra's riddle. Maybe for help against Nemaine. Something. And they laugh hysterically at him for screwing up his swap, but laugh even harder when they learn how far he's willing to go to help his human friends.

And they say it like the word is soaked in poison. Friends. Angus gave up everything he had to get a family, and all he has is friends?

Friends are conditional.

Friends are fickle.

Friends aren't bound to you.

Friends are a bad trade.

Angus is forced to listen to their evil, little chattering and suck it up. He can't really argue - not just because he needs their help for whatever, but because he's gotta admit they're totally right. And that embarrassment of failing so miserably with the family he tried to join comes back, eating at his mind, and ohhhhhh the other fae can feel it radiating off of him, even though he tries to hide it. So he doesn't defend himself against what they're saying. And yet what takes it from bad to worse is if he brought the others along (I'm thinking at least Deirdre here because she loves jumping in with a spirited defence of what's right) and they pipe up about the power of friendship and what close friends they've been.

The other fae, all grimy and child-sized, HOWL with laughter at this. It gets to a point where it starts to hurt (not Angus, who's only quiet because he's fuming), until they stop and switch to ask how good of friends they are when they didn't even know Angus was fae.

The others don't have an answer. I figure Rohan would, but either he's not here with them now or he seems to know to hold his tongue. One look at Angus and the storm in his eyes would be the sharpest clue there is to give it away.

I imagine Angus interrupting to 'humour' the other fairies. He's using his 'on' voice - the one where he's making a big performance of it, and the fairies are eating up what he's saying: friends are just friends, they all know that, but let's move this along and get to the help Angus came here for. The fairies might hem and haw but at least they decide to give the Mystic Knights a clue, which is more than what they had before. Angus takes it and leaves, and the others follow after him (Deirdre, assumedly, annoyed that it's letting those awful, pint-sized gremlins 'win'). I even imagine her complaining how mean it was to have Angus forced to pretend he agreed.

... Angus doesn't challenge her. He doesn't confirm what she's saying either, though. And Rohan would probably be the only one who can notice.

A real twenty-two minute episode would be too short for everything I'm seeing. We'd need a couple where he's revealed as a fae and the others adjust to it. A few where they see if he has any magic left to help in quests (eh, I'll come back to this). But then, finally, one where they go back to the other changelings, now that they've been building it up for a while. Angus' reluctance to go back would be the focus, and it'd explain why he's so quick to want to leave, too. Leaving forever isn't because the other fae won't accept him back. It's not like, "We'll kill you if we ever see you here." But it is like, "We will never let you forget this for as long as you live." And fairies? They live for a fucking long time.

So Angus finally getting hit with that insulting barrage - the most excruciating thing he's experienced, even if he's being stonily silent about it now - brings on an entirely new dynamic among the others. That word felt soaked in poison because it was poison. Angus is suddenly pulling back, more aloof and cavalier with them. Getting him to be a part of the team is now a 'favour,' and it's like he's more and more annoyed by how many of these 'favours' he's handing out. Eventually, with the others trying to corner him and find out what's wrong, guessing and suspecting and whispering about the something that it might be, he snaps. The words sound mild, maybe, but they show how hollow Angus feels after having had this rot away in his mind.

"I get it," he says, while being smothered by these people who don't have a reason to be this close and in his face all the time. "We're friends. But we're only friends. I don't need to do everything you ask just because of it. It's friendship, not a contract. It's not as if we're married."

This is sort of what I'm saving Rohan for. Because I think this is where he gives his wistful, uncommitted sound. This is what he went through when he was trying to accept the others as 'good enough,' because forcing himself to give up his dream of a perfect, blood-related family wasn't easy. It's what he himself wanted his whole life. And Angus gave up his life among the fairies to get it, and he failed. Trying to be satisfied with friends, in the way Rohan knows Angus is imagining?

It's another bit of a recontextualization of the wish episode again: Rohan was the one to sit the others down and talk about the value of friendship. He understands what it's like getting so caught up in a dream that you lose sight of what's in front of you. But he's not the same as Angus, who made excuses and said Rohan needed time alone when the 'Maeve is my mother' secret came out. Instead, Rohan'll tell the others to be gentle, and to be patient, but to keep their hand of friendship outstretched.

The changelings had all chittered that friends were fickle and conditional, right? That was what Angus had to be thinking, Rohan will explain. Now, more than ever, they have to prove they're not going to leave him - or let Angus leave first in some twisted point about being abandoned. He's a flight risk, remember? They know what he's like.

This is the plot that an episode could follow. The one before it could be the set-up to go and see the other fairies, which lets this one follow Angus reuniting with them, hearing what they say, falling back into those conscious beliefs, and withdrawing in an angry, confused, and humiliated panic. It's to get the other Mystic Knights slowly luring him back to them, refusing to give up, and believing in him enough (thanks to Rohan) to finally drop the "What's wrong what's wrong what's wrong something's wrong something's wrong with you what's wrong" interrogation. They force themselves to let the tension fizzle away. Angus tests it, suspects it, but they either don't react or they tell him to cut it out because he's treating them poorly. It's almost like... kinda psychological warfare, in a way? Where they're purposely refusing to engage and making him confront the fact that he keeps expecting the worst from them.

This would be playing out as they follow the clue they were given. Maybe it was a fetch quest, because I want the episode to end with Angus coming back to other fae. The clue could've been to a McGuffin, and only with that McGuffin will the changelings give the Mystic Knights what they were here for. It's far off - really far off - to let it take a few nights around a campfire. That's perfect for Angus to storm off when he's hit his limit. He can go get firewood or something, returning the first few times to hear them talking about him. Then Rohan does his intervention. Then the talking stops. Or at least it moves to regular chitchat of close friends making the most of a miserable fetch quest together.

The audience would know about Angus luring the human kid he swapped with out into a forest. That's because I want Angus to be in a forest when he finally has his epiphany.

The human kid? The one who's now transformed? That kid follows after Angus purely to ask him questions.

It's awkward, obviously, for Angus to come face-to-face with... well, essentially his own face. Just child-sized. And the original. It's a little off from his own still, but the human-fairy skips right by all that.

"What's it like being an adult?"

"How did his human life turn out?"

"He lives near a castle now?"

"He's a magical knight?"

"What are the fairies in Tir Na Nog like?"

"What does he do all day?"

And Angus, maybe a little surprised and speechless, stammers through a couple of answers before he launches into the great adventures that he's had. The human-fairy's captivated - it all sounds fun! Angus doesn't realize for a moment but... yeah. He agrees. It's been fun. And he means that as the fae do: his kind absolutely worship having fun. They barely stopped screeching and playing long enough to send the Mystic Knights out here - in fact, they didn't stop playing. The only break they took from tumbling around was to laugh hysterically at Angus' failure, which was fun for them in another way. So for him to say it's been fun, and to mean it...?

He's surprised by how happy it makes him.

It feels nostalgic.

But - look, he's not going to be face-to-face with the face he stole and not ask questions of his own. Angus wants to know if the human-fairy's angry at being kidnapped.

The human-fairy - who can't be more than six, which lines up with how young I imagine Rohan was when Angus found him (adding a bit more nostalgia to that too) - shrugs and says he isn't sure. Being with the fae is a lot of fun, and it's been so long since he's seen his family that he doesn't quite remember them. He doesn't feel compelled to find them, though, and that's because it's almost like he never left.

And Angus stops the boy to ask what that means. 'Never left'?

The boy says even though he can't picture his family's faces, he remembers how it felt to be with them. And as the only other person who's lived in the same families as Angus, he can say pretty confidently that the fae make him feel the same.

They're not the same. The fae are loud and sharp and exciting. His family felt... softer. Cozy. Peaceful. But he feels the same about them. They're both home to him. He used to only have one home, but then he became a fairy and now he has another.

So... the boy doesn't want to go back?

The human-fairy shrugs again. Maybe one day. When he's ready to settle down and be a boring oaf of an adult. "But you don't sound boring," the boy says, through a sharp, shark-like set of changeling teeth. "Maybe I'll go and be a magical knight too."

"I think there's only six," Angus says.

"There will be," the boy answers.

Their teeth are sharp. On many levels, that vicious little grin is pointed.

... Nostalgic. The spark of this threat - the game in it - breathes life back into a part of him that Angus thought had died. Grinning back in a way that would've been just as sharp if he had those teeth, he tells the boy, "Try it. Fair's fair."

"Don't make it easy," the boy says.

On that faintly deliriously hum of fun, the boy takes his leave. The challenge was made, the game's been set, and maybe someday Angus will have a changeling trying to swap back.

... Not into a family, though, as they usually would.

The epiphany comes. Gentle and soft and cozy.

It would be into a family, Angus understands. That's what the others are to him.

They're not the same as the fae, but he knows what that human-fairy meant by it: they feel like home. The people he'd tried to swap into never did. Understandable. He can admit that now. But the way the others have taken him in, and how they haven't changed even knowing what he is...

They're fun.

He might be practically human now, but it's still the most important thing to him. Fun can mean loving and loyal and - unbelievably - even quiet. But it's all fun, isn't it? To him anyway.

The other fae would howl again if they heard that. But deep down inside of him...

... He's okay with it.

He cares. He still cares. But he doesn't feel the anger and grief at the thought of them laughing at his failure anymore. When he thinks about it, yes, he botched the swap he was trying to make. But he didn't botch the swap that he got.

It's interesting.

Being consumed by such a calm realization...

He doesn't even jump when he hears the leaves crunching behind him. Somehow it makes perfect sense for Rohan to arrive, and to find each other in another forest.

Rohan asks him if he's ready to leave, putting a hand on Angus' shoulder. It isn't a tug. It's just an offer to join them at the campfire.

And it's night.

Angus lured that human kid into the forest at night back then.

The flicker that thought stirred awake fizzled out before he even named its emotion.

It'd been daylight when he and Rohan first met. But when Rohan woke up, Angus didn't need to lure him into going anywhere. Rohan was already leaving his own home, so the two leaving the forest together made sense. In fact, Rohan practically followed Angus out on his own. For no reason.

Just for fun.

And that thought, almost overwhelming him, was friendship. Angus couldn't speak around it, but it must've been clear on his face, because the hand on his shoulder gave a short squeeze. Time to go home, he figured. Back out together again.

He'll be quiet at the campfire, but it's restful now. He'll see the not-so-secret looks to Rohan, asking if something's wrong. And he'll feel Rohan's even-less-subtle, relentlessly confident answer:

No.

Because Angus is fine.

Going back to the changelings after their stupid game of fetch has a different sense of frustration now. It's more like annoyance at having to have walked so far and jump through their hoops, all to predictably lose for their enjoyment.

Angus knows what he's heading into. He's known from the start that it was all a silly waste of time meant to 'shock' them with that reveal. But whatever help they were after was locked behind this stupid charade, so he was sucking it up and playing his part, hating that he had to play pretend.

But he didn't hate himself for going back.

It suddenly felt like running into his old pickpocket friends. They were fun, sure, and familiar, but the kind he'd moved on from by now. Outgrown.

So he still wanted to get this over with.

Improvements were improvements though, and Deirdre's complaints from behind him as he lead others through winding the passages - which still felt so burned into his very being, not even needing memory to navigate - was something he appreciated. He wasn't looking forward to this. They were going to be mean. They always were. That's what made them, them. He used to join in, too.

And of course the conversation went exactly as he thought it would.

... Right up to the split second before he handed the McGuffin over.

That deep, long-forgotten, nearly buried fairy blood suddenly hummed in his veins with glee.

It was the same hum as the other changelings were making: anticipation and delight over what was supposed to happen. And he stopped, because he knew exactly what to do.

"Ivar," he said, abruptly handing the McGuffin over. "You're polite. You should give the speech."

Ivar, obviously, wasn't expecting there to be a speech, but trusted Angus to know his own people. And Angus knew Ivar.

He knew all of them.

With how long Ivar took to get through a formality, Angus had plenty of time to feel both of his families in one place. And he could feel Rohan staring, proud of Angus but a little smug about being right. That was perfect too, though. Smug was icing on the cake for this.

Ivar gave his speech. Lovely. And he bowed. Lovelier. And the prince gave the McGuffin to whoever seemed to be in charge for the hour.

That kid, in the same fluid motion it used to pick the McGuffin up, fuckin' threw that shit at a wall and made it shatter into forty pieces.

Then they all cheered.

Angus had to admit the look of horror on the others' faces - even wiping that smug part off of Rohan's - was phenomenal. He couldn't outright laugh (technically this was a joke on him too, since he'd had to get the McGuffin), but he earned getting to smile wide enough for the family resemblance to come shining through. Hundreds of tiny, shark-sharp chattering teeth were flashing through this cave - and so were Angus' 💖

"You said we needed that," he hears Deirdre shrieking in outrage over the sound. "We came to you for help-"

It's a special, extra thrill for Angus - and Angus only - to watch the princess get to work. The fear she put in the changelings? Equally as phenomenal. And in the horrified silence at the end of her outraged tirade, and at their shocked, shark-toothed mouths hanging open and beady eyes going wide, Angus felt it sink in.

And he howled in laughter.

Which was great, 'cause even though the changelings didn't seem to get the joke (too sophisticated for them, he supposed), knowing there was a joke at all - because Angus would know; he was one of them - broke the tension again. The fairies finished up their prank, handed them the real help, and Angus waved goodbye before leading the others outside. Deirdre didn't need his help this time, since she practically seethed her own way out through the rock. That was fine, 'cause the changelings didn't even notice he'd said goodbye. They were already back to scratching and biting and laughing.

Hilarious. All of them. And fun.

"I can't believe you used to be one of those," Deirdre spits when they're back in the open air.

"He's still one of them," Ivar says, defending Angus' honour.

"Well..." Angus thinks about that. "I am and I'm not." That used to be his home, after all. He used to be just like they were. The difference was simple but undeniable. So he shrugs. "I grew up."

Cue Deirdre ranting about how she wished they would all grow up. Those mini-monsters wasted days of their royal lives just to smash that trinket right when they had it? It was disrespectful - did they even know who she was?

They did. That's why it was funny.

Rohan's been at his side. Not asking, but close enough that he might as well have asked.

Is Angus all right?

Angus doesn't the answer the not-question.

He only suggests, "Back home, then?"

Rohan understands.

It figures. Who'd know Angus better than his best friend?

(it takes less than an hour for angus to whine about how far everything always is)