AvM Tangled!AU (LemonSodaDuo)

Prologue:

In the dead of night, a lone stick trudged through the dark swamp, with only a tattered scroll and a fading lantern to aide in his traveling. Even as the mud stuck to his boots and trousers, the humidity stuck to his brow, and the ambiance of the night sent shivers down his spine, he trudged on, for those minor inconveniences paled in comparison to his reason for coming. For over a month, his newborn daughter had been growing weaker and sicker by the day. No matter how many different medicines and elixirs from across the land he and his wife had tried, nothing seemed to improve her condition.
At that point, the couple had resigned themselves to the fact that their baby girl would never get to grow up with her brother. However, one night, the male stick had been drinking away his worries in a tavern when he was approached by an old witch, notorious for her strange ramblings and odd habits. She had asked the usually proud and talkative stick about his daughter, and in his drunken state, he couldn't help but pour out all of his recent misery and sorrow. The witch had listened intently, and after a moment of consideration, she told him tales of a mysterious fungus that could cure nearly any ailment when cooked correctly. The witch who told him of this mysterious fungus had described it as a turquoise cluster of mushrooms with a foul odor and bitingly bitter flavor. Normally, the stick man would've brushed it off as an old maid's tale, but due to his desperation (and intoxication), he latched onto the witch's tale. Over the next few hours, he'd pestered her endlessly for information about the fungus, and, at the price of several emeralds, she'd disclosed all she knew about the mystical fungus and its whereabouts, even drawing a rough map from where they were to where it could be located, to which she wasn't entirely sure. The stickman had been over the moon, and he immediately ran home to show his wife. She'd been reluctant to believe it, and she was a bit upset that he'd spent so many emeralds for what might be a hoax, but it didn't take much to convince her that this may be their last hope. Not even waiting for daylight, the stickman set off in search of the fungus, traveling nonstop. As midnight approached, he finally reached the swamp on the map.
Finally, after what felt like a lifetime of traveling, the stickman had found a small cluster of mushrooms, which glowed a faint teal. Exhausted, the stickman knelt down, further ruining his trousers. He sniffed the fungus—which likely wasn't the best idea—and his nostrils were assaulted with a fury of sulfur and mulch. He sprang back up, coughing and hacking, trying to clear his nostrils of the lingering burning. After a couple minutes, the stickman finally caught his bearings. Looking around, a chill ran down his spine, making him feel like a chicken soon to fall prey to a fox. Quickly, he scooped up the fungus, and took off. As he was running, he didn't notice the trail of shimmering teal spores shaken from the fungus that had been left during his escape, but the cloaked figure approaching where the patch of warped netherwart had stood certainly did.

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As the baby girl slept soundly with her brother for the first time, the couple held each other and cried. After weeks of believing that their daughter would be lost forever, it felt like a massive weight had been lifted off of their shoulders. After they'd practically drained their faces of tears, they finally felt safe enough to sleep, finally knowing that their daughter would be safe and sound.
At a quarter to four, a cloaked figure slunk through a small woodland town. They'd been traveling for over an hour to locate their prized warped netherwart, which had been taken from their garden by a foolish stickman. The trail of spores ended at the door of a quaint, wooden house, just shiny enough for them to follow. Carefully, they took out a Silk-Touched axe and began hacking away at a weak spot in the wall. They tiptoed through the house, sipping on a lilac potion as they observed the layout. They could faintly hear the snoring of two stickpeople in the room to their left, and they carefully opened the door, which creaked enough to make the figure tense up. Thankfully, the two stickpeople sleeping in the room didn't stir at all. Since the figure couldn't see any traces of spores, they carefully closed the door, holding the knob as to not make a sound.
They ventured further into the house, searching under tables, in cabinets, and on shelves for any traces of spores, but to no avail. As they were about to give up, they heard laughter coming from the room at the back of the house. A flicker of hope ignited in their chest as they crept towards the room. Upon opening the door, they were met by a room with brightly-colored walls and two small cribs at the corner of the room. Immediately, they recognized the faint smell of sulfur and mulch, as well as the trademark turquoise spores leading to the crib closer to the wall. They couldn't help but let out a low giggle as they made a beeline for the crib, finding a small, cyan stick stirring in its sleep. In the dark of night, its sprouting hair glowed a very faint turquoise, just like the figure's warped netherwart. The figure cursed under their breath. How dare that idiot stickman waste their precious fungus on some baby. However, there was still a possible use for it.
The figure hummed an old tune as quietly as they could. As they hummed, the baby stick's short, kinky hair glowed that familiar turquoise hue, and its eyes fluttered open. Small wisps of potion effects swirled around the baby, and the figure plucked a pair of scissors from their satchel, raising them to a small lock of the baby's hair. As they shipped the lock of hair away, the glowing ceased, and they scowled. The disruption seemed to upset the baby stick, as it began to wail clamorously. This caused the other baby to wake up, joining in the wailing. Panic filled the figure as they snatched up the cyan baby and mad a mad dash out of the hole they had created in the wall. They downed another lilac potion, pouring a few drops into the baby's mouth, and ran like their life depended on it. As they mounted their horse, they could hear yelling and crying in the distance, but they didn't dare look back. Why should they feel sorry for a petty thief? Taking the baby seemed like a fair enough trade for the stickman taking their fungus, so there was no point in feeling remorse, for it was a hell of the stick man's own making.
Once the cloaked figure reached the swamp, they dismounted their horse, making sure to keep a firm grip on the baby stick. They lead their horse deeper into the swamp until they reached an area shrouded in hanging leaves and moss. The figure pushed past the vegetation and into a small clearing. The clearing was a solid patch of land, a rare sight to see in the swamplands. The ground was alive with wildflowers, cattails, and other miscellaneous plants, however, the landmark that stood out the most was the colossal, stone tower in the middle of the clearing. As the figure trotted towards the clearing, they glanced down at the baby stick, who was now sleeping soundly. They took off their hood to get a better look at the baby, noticing that its formerly dark hair had been stained a light blue. Despite the hassle it had taken to get the baby stick, the witch couldn't help but feel somewhat prideful for the baby. They began humming that same tune from before, eliciting a low giggling from the baby.
     "Welcome to your new home, Baby Blue."