“You lost puppy?” – commented Riven with a sly smile. You rolled with your eyes at him approaching you. He tilted his head to the side, smirking as he loved to see a reaction from you. You didn’t gave him one, just slowly crossing your arms. – “Leave my girlfriend alone, Riven!” – you heard being called out. From behind Riven appeared Beatrix with a cunningly smile. She moved past Riven as you pretended to bite at him. He scrunched his nose, wiggling his head in a mocking way. You licked your lips soft when Beatrix let her fingers slide down your cheek. She purred, taking a hold of you.
Beatrix swooped you up, kissing you forcefully. Riven looked a bit awkward away, tugging his hands in his pocket. Beatrix turned around; her lipstick smudged all over your lips. – “You were saying.” – asked she with a stone-cold look. Riven opened his jacket with his hands still tugged inside. He turned around, knowing not to mess with her. Beatrix turned her attention to you again, moving her fingers through your hair. – “How is my little mix.” – purred she out with a melodic voice. You locked your arm around hers, heading for class. – “Perfect, my storm.” – complimented you back.
Beatrix got wild, railing herself against you. She was clinging onto you, her one foot popping up as she took in your lovely smell. – “You drive me wild, Y/n.” – breathed she out, high on you. You chuckled as she stroke your shoulder whilst walking. Many heads turned in your direction as you entered the cafeteria, you just needed to get across, heading for class. Beatrix snarled at anyone who would dare to give you a look that looks a bit suspicious. Beatrix was very protective of you. You were like her most contained treasure. She the dragon guarding her treasure of gold with anything she possessed.
You exhaled soft at her cute but slightly dominate flair. In another hallway opened you, your hand to her. Beatrix quirked her eyebrow curiously up. From the palm of your hand sprung a root that slowly un-popped into a black rose. Beatrix gasped at your gesture, taking the rose from you. She smelled it, unable to stop smiling. She then slapped you against your shoulder. – “Au! What was that for!” – called you out, confused. – “You know damn well!” – hissed Beatrix at you, pulling a bit at the petals. You sighed deep, taking her arm again. – “A flower won’t kill me.” – said you in a weary tone.
“A flower perhaps not, mix, but a thousand might if you keep storing energy in these things.” – responded Beatrix with a wicked undertone. You sighed again. – “Alright, I promise not to use my powers for any minor things…” – answered you loud. – “Even when it means I can’t please my girlfriend anymore.” – whispered you out, lowering your voice. Beatrix had heard it, pulling you to a stop by grabbing your elbow. – “I’m just looking out for you!” – called she out. – “I’m not losing you, certainly not over a flower.” – she threw the flower over her shoulder as you tried to grasp for it. Your beautiful masterpiece, thrown away.
Taking a deep breath, took you a hold of both her arms. – “You won’t lose me… Trix… I’m… I’m alright…” – reassured you her. – “You better be!” – With her finger poked she you in the chest. Taking her hand, continued you to head over to class. You had to admire her vulnerability around you. The only reason Beatrix was so worried about your well-being is because you are what people may call a rare fairy. Not born with one, but at least five abilities. Making you kind the hybrid amongst fairies. You were an earth fairy, but also a fire, light, water, and a mind fairy. All in one.
“Morning Miss Dowling!” – greeted you, entering her classroom with Beatrix. – “Morning girls.” – replied she with a soft smile. Beatrix performed a dramatic curtsy at her to annoy her even more. – “Take your seat Beatrix.” – said Dowling with a soft sigh. You held hands with her till up to your seat. You sat down, Beatrix leaning down on it. She leaned in close, her face up to yours. She whispered some loving words to you that made you flutter. – “Today, please Miss Beatrix.” – called Farah out. Beatrix rolled her eyes with a groan. Beatrix wasn’t going to let Dowling stop her from kissing you. You shared a slow and passionate kiss where your lips felt like being glued to her.
cleared her throat as Aisha came sitting beside you. Beatrix sighed annoyed, pulling herself up. – “Already going!” – said she, seeing Farah stare unamused at her. Beatrix took her time to walk away from your desk, blowing you a kiss. You blew one back. Beatrix took her seat, sitting next to some light fairy. She glared at her just to make a statement. The last few girls took their seats, hurrying inside. Farah was standing before her desk, clasping her hands together. – “Lovely to see you all girls.” – said she, seeing Beatrix pretend to yawn. Farah didn’t let it poke her, moving on. – “Today we shall start on the practice of some more advanced magic.” – Farah leaned against her desk, overlooking everyone.
“Balance and control is very vital.” – continued she to lecture. – “If one has not the control over it’s own emotions and powers… they are certain to fail.” – Dowling started to walk through the middle. Bloom swallowed nervously. Aisha beside you, looked quickly down at her own desk to avoid eye contact. – “Perhaps a demonstration? Who would like to give it a try?” – Farah started going around desks, everyone avoiding her eye contact. She stood near a desk as the girl nearly fainted that Dowling would choose her. Dowling rested her hand on the desk, giving the girl more anxiety.
“Y/n!” – said she, looking up to you. The girl where Farah stood by her desk, exhaled deep. You made eye contact with Beatrix. Beatrix shook her head. Farah awaited your display. You swallowed nervously, getting up from your desk. All eyes on you, motioned Farah for you to walk up to the desk. So everyone could see you. – “Don’t!” – hissed Beatrix at you in a low voice. – “Mix!” – whispered she out. Her little nickname for you. Since you were her mixture of sweetness and abilities. With trembling hands went you up to the front.
Standing in front of everyone, felt you exposed. – “Use any kind of ability you prefer.”- said Farah, leaning back against some cupboards to observe. You nodded, slowly bringing your hands up. You waited for further instructions of what Farah expected from you. Beatrix was still shaking her head, trying to whisper to you to not go through with it. Farah explained what she wished of you. Closing your eyes, focused you on one particular ability. Opening your eyes shined they bright blue. Between your hands emerged water as you let it move up in a circle. The water was flowing around in a circle. You inhaled deep, seeing Farah nod.
You brought your hands slowly together allowing the circle of water to form into a ball. A small ball that was hovering from the palms of your hands. – “Wonderful!” – said Farah, clapping loud. You were in focus as suddenly you gasped loud, taking by a force. Beatrix widened her eyes at you as your eyes turned bright red. Around the ball of water that still hovering in your hand, formed a ring of fire. The fire was keeping the ball of water in place. Spinning fast around it. Girls started to gasp when from inside the ball of water emerged a bright light. The water was shining as Stella moved her hand to her mouth in shock. Your eyes were shining bright in a light color as you were breathing in a slight panic.
You had no idea what was happening. You had no true control over it as your body simply performed the actions. – “Make it stop!” – bit Beatrix out. Your head shot back, grasping for air as your eyes changed color again. From up your wrists to your fingertips came roots twirling up. – “Stop it!” – Beatrix jumped up from her seat, slamming her hands on her desk. She turned to Farah, demanding her to interfere. Farah was baffled, caught with not knowing what to do or how to stop it. Your body started to shake at the immense power you were using all at once. – “Y/n!” – screamed Beatrix out, seeing you suddenly collapse to the ground.
Everyone got up in shock as Beatrix pushed them aside. She rushed to your side, kneeling beside you. – “Y/n? Y/n?” – breathed she out, her hand trembling with fear of touching you. She touched your cheek carefully, trying to get a reaction from it. You weren’t responding as her emotions took over. Beatrix pulled you up to her lap, cherishing you into her arms. – “I’m sorry…so sorry.” – sobbed she out, rocking you gently. Farah and some other students came closer. – “Stay away!” – screamed Beatrix out with all her pain, setting lightning off.
Lightning bolted through the classroom, making them stagger back. – “Why did you chose her!” – bit Beatrix at Farah. – “Why?” – screamed she out, her words barely hearable through her cries of pain. – “B…Bea…” – mumbled you out, slowly opening your eyes. Beatrix looked down at you, wiping some hair out of your face. – “I’m here Y/n… I’m here…” – sobbed she out. You smiled soft, feeling her lips against your forehead. – “Miss Y/n… I am…I am sorry.” – confessed Farah, presenting herself humble. – “No, your not!” – replied Beatrix. She clenched her jaw, glaring deadly at her headmistress.
“To you she is nothing more but a pawn! But she is not. Y/n is not a pawn in your game. I shall not stand for it anymore. From now on, you stay away from her!” – yelled Beatrix out. You had found a bit of your strength back, pulling yourself a bit up. – “Bea… Bea…” – said you a bit out of breath. Beatrix kissed your forehead to reassure you that she was always on your side. – “We’re leaving!” – insisted Beatrix, helping you up to your feet. You clamped onto Beatrix, feeling drained from almost all your energy. Beatrix pushed everyone aside that stood in her way, leaving the classroom with not another word.
This was what she feared. She knew using your abilities to a certain level would wear you out. No one was built to contain so many abilities in one body. So you had to be extra careful when you used yours.
Just realized I hit 100 followers on this little blog of mine I know it’s not a lot in the grand scheme, but for a small fandom on a half-active blog that writes x reader for a sort of background character (she’s not a background character in my heart though), I think 100 is a pretty great milestone. I’m thankful to all hundred of you for supporting and loving every fic I put out, and most importantly for continuing to send me prompts to keep the muse coming
To celebrate, here’s a little drabble for us all.
~~~
She sat at her desk in front of you, fingers playing with the pendant around her neck (that was her grandmother’s, then was her mother’s and now was hers), flipping through a file full of paperwork. You took the time to study her, to watch her just be— the little line between her brows as she read (maybe she needed reading glasses), the way the corners of her mouth twitched every few minutes, and the way the sunlight curled through the strands of her hair, lighting them in yellows and golds that made you think of summer.
You were still staring when Farah glanced up at you, the corner of her mouth quirked up as she raised an eyebrow. “I can feel you staring.”
You just smiled at her, tilting your head as you leaned back in your chair. “Just enjoying the view.”
She rolled her eyes, but still smiled and laughed even as she murmured something that sounded like ‘cheap line’, and then she was standing and rounding her desk to stand before you, hands on the arms of your chairs as she leaned down and kissed you softly. She tasted like the strawberries you’d brought to share for lunch, and that made you sigh, stroking her cheek gently as the kiss lingered for just another moment longer.
When the kiss ended, Farah bumped her nose against yours before she leaned back to sit against her desk. “Why don’t we pack up a dinner and go sit by the river tonight? It’s supposed to be a beautiful evening, not too cold.”
“That sounds perfect,” you said, and then grinned at her. “It’s a date!”
She chuckled, raising an eyebrow at you again. “A date with your wife, hm?”
You stood, putting you hands on either side of her hips as you pecked a kiss to the corner of her mouth. “Gotta keep the romance alive, yeah?” You kissed her again, the stood up straight. “I have a class, and you have a meeting. Dinner at six?”
the shots scene never fails to amaze me. the fact that the only time where we see our trio showing their silly playful side in such a relaxed and smooth way is when one of them is quite literally on the verge of death, simply says it all. whether they were trying to make his maybe last hours more light and fun than usual or just as an old habit, the whole scene just sums up their relationship so well. as if they only feel safe to openly be truly themselves in life threatening situations, because that’s how they’ve spent most of their lives with one another. the feeling of being so close to lose your close battle partner and fear for you and your loved ones’ lives has become so familiar that it is almost like a nostalgic memory now. that it feels like home.
This is one of my fave scenes in the entire show, it did so much to flesh out the grownup characters more. The vibe I get from it is totally that this is an hold habit… just old friends hanging out together with a drink. (Much like the greenhouse scene with Farah and Ben taking care of Saul feels like they fell into a practised routine and implies a lot about their history and relationship).
Thanks for sticking with me till the end! I hope you enjoyed it as much as I did creating it
~
You took things slow after the dinner you shared, the both of you seeming to need time to adjust to having each other in your lives in a personal way once more. As slow as the progress was, it was steady, and your lives became more and more entangled as time went on. Dinner once a week became sharing lunches every other day, which became sharing almost every meal together. Long walks after dinner, your arm tucked into hers, became cuddling on the couch with a movie or two, which became sharing her bed when you were just too tired to walk the few hundred yards back to your own suite. Chaste kisses at the end of the night became heated makeout sessions that ended with your legs wrapped around her waist, which then became nights spent slowly undressing each other, mapping the contours of each other’s bodies all through the night as you shared in pleasure.
You fell into that comfortable rhythm you’d perfected so long ago, slipping into it like worn leather boots that were molded for you and you alone. Habits you’d forgotten where you had learned them suddenly started making sense again — you only bought red wine even though you didn’t mind the taste of white because that’s what Farah preferred; you slept on the left side of the bed because Farah had always slept on the right; you always picked the red toothbrushes out of the pack first, because Farah’s color was blue.
And the closer you became, you learned new habits to adjust to the people you’d become over the decades. You slept with a small nightlight now because Farah hated to wake in the pitch dark anymore, especially when nightmares chased her; you learned to dump the last bit of water in your glass into whichever plant was nearest, knowing their survival meant more to Farah than anything; you began to make tea as well as coffee in the mornings, knowing coffee made Farah too jittery these days.
More and more, you realized what your actions meant to Farah, and what they meant to you. More and more, you realized what you said to each other in those actions, even though you hadn’t said the words in eighteen years.
And one evening, when Farah had brought some paperwork home to finish at the kitchen table because she knew you liked to be together, even when working, you began to wonder why you hadn’t said it yet.
“I love you,” you blurted, realizing there wasn’t a reason not to, and her head popped up from her work to stare at you, eyes wide with surprise. “Or rather, I never stopped loving you,” you continued, shrugging as though this was the most simple thing. “I just stopped saying it.”
You watched as she stared at you a moment longer, her breath leaving her in a shuddering sigh.
And then she grinned, her eyes bright with joy and looking so much like the girl you first met that it made you laugh. She stood and came to you, sweeping you into her arms with a graceful gesture that made you squeak in surprise, and then she was kissing you, deep and greedy and in a way that made you want more, more, more.
“I never stopped either,” she said when you were forced to breathe. “I love you. I’ll always love you.”
You could remember the night you realized you wanted to marry her again clearer than anything. You laid tangled together in the sheets of her bed, talking of everything and nothing, the sort of nights that left your souls bared to one another.
And then Aster Dell came up. And the ghosts in her eyes clouded them until that gleam was gone again.
She told you everything — every detail, every second, every moment of that day that was burned into her memory. When she walked through those fields in her mind’s eye, you walked beside her, and held her hand through it all.
Tears slipped over her lashes when she described the ruins of the village she’d walked through. And when she began to choke on her grief, her words becoming hard and painful, you merely held her close to your heart and let all of the love you’d been holding back for years come out in a tidal wave.
And when she finally picked up her head and pressed her forehead to yours, you thought you felt something inside of her heal.
And then talk turned to lighter things. It turned to memories of the parties you threw at Alfea, and stories of your time apart; it turned to the gossip circulating the school and laughing so hard that tears rolled down your cheeks and your stomach ached, and with a comforting sort of understanding you realized that you never wanted to spend another day of your life without Farah by your side.
You thought of ways you could bring up marriage to her, thought of how to ask her if that was something she wanted again. Though you’d discussed your past and made peace with it, you worried marriage could be a sensitive topic, given the way your previous engagement had ended, and the last thing you wanted to do was upset the balance you had found with her again.
You still hadn’t thought of a way on the Saturday morning Farah had gently woken you, pressing soft kisses across your face until you stirred.
“What are you doing up?” you mumbled only half awake, and you felt Farah smile against your brow.
“I made you breakfast.”
You opened your eyes fully, raising a brow in surprise. “That’s quite romantic.”
She grinned at you and shifted until she was lying on her side. “I was hoping it would be.” She pressed one last quick kiss to your forehead before she rolled to sit up. “It’ll be ready soon if you want to get up, or I can bring it to you.”
“I’ll be up soon,” you said, frowning at the thought of getting food on the sheets.
You changed and brushed your teeth, and deemed that good enough before padding out to the kitchen, smiling at the sight of Farah pouring batter into a pan.
“When did you learn to make pancakes?” you asked her, unable to keep the teasing surprise out of your voice, and Farah shot you a coy look.
“I had young nieces and nephews, it was learn to make a good pancake or die.”
You chuckled at her dramatics and pressed yourself against her side, nosing at her shoulder in affection. “Well, it certainly smells like you succeeded.”
She hummed and turned into you, wrapping her arms around your waist before leaning in to kiss you. It was a solid kiss, comforting and strong, and you nearly melted into it before she pulled back suddenly, and you made a little questioning noise of displeasure.
She made a noise back at you that seemed to say ‘just wait a moment’ before she reached behind a jar full of spoons and spatulas to grab something you couldn’t see.
And then she showed you the ring box she held, open to show the glittering engagement ring inside.
You gaped at it a moment, completely caught off balance — in all your recent late night thoughts about marriage, never did you ever expect to receive a proposal out of the blue.
Words failed once, twice, and finally you blurted out the first thing that came to your mind. “You have those hidden everywhere?”
She let out a laugh that was half nerves, half humor. “Just the one. I was going to wait until we sat down to ask you, but — well, I just couldn’t wait.”
You stared at the ring for another moment, then looked over to her, a slow smile spreading across your face, “Marriage?”
She nodded. “Yes, marriage. But so much more, too.” She turned to lean her back against the island, pulling you along as she did. She held the box between you, a question yet to be answered, and tracing a finger down your cheek, she spoke again.
“I feared we had changed too much, in the years we were apart. I was scared we would begin again, only to fall apart. But being with you again, learning who you are, I… I realized that the people we’ve become fit just as well as the people we once were — better, even. Better because we’ve seen both sides of the coin, now, better because we’ve grown, and better because now that I remember what life is like when I’m with you, I know I’d be a fool to let that go.”
She took the ring out of the box and held it gingerly before you, continuing. “I propose to you marriage, but I propose so much more. I propose a partnership. I propose love, and trust, and faith and kindness and every bit of good in the world I can give to you. I want a life with you, this life with you. And if you’ll have it, I want a vow between us, a bond unbroken — my promise to you, for the rest of our lives.”
Farah held her breath, her proposal hanging between you along with the ring. And with a grin you thought would split your cheeks, you pulled her close and kissed her.
“Yes,” you murmured against her lips. “Yes, I want that too, yes, I’ll marry you.”
Farah was laughing against your mouth, a sound of pure joy that made your chest swell with warmth and light and love. You couldn’t seem to pull away from her, couldn’t break away from the swirling emotion in your heart that joined you together, that seemed to lift you higher and higher until you both could touch the clouds.
But when Farah pulled back and slid that ring onto your finger — you felt like you were home.
You fussed over your outfit for quite some time, feeling like you were sixteen and getting ready to meet Farah at a party (but this time you didn’t have any suitemates to help you). You finally settled on a comfortable blouse and trousers, and you had to step away from the mirror and tell yourself you weren’t allowed to change again when you itched to turn back to your closet.
It’s not like it matters what I wear, you said to yourself as you sat down on your couch, away from anything reflective. We’re just trying to be friendly, that’s all. She knows what I look like, I don’t need to dress up for this.
But then why did this feel more important than a first date?
You texted her asking when she wanted you over, and she responded quickly that you could come over any time. Taking a deep breath and with one last look in the mirror, you grabbed a bottle of wine and walked the short distance to her cottage.
You knocked, and admired the runes etched elegantly over the door as you listened to Farah move about inside before the door opened, revealing her in a smart blue dress, barefoot and holding a dish towel in her hand.
“Good timing,” she said with a small smile, stepping out of the way to let you in. “Dinner will be done soon.”
Your stomach dropped a little and you looked at her with wide eyes. “You didn’t have to cook everything — I could have helped.”
She waved her hand dismissively. “It’s alright, I didn’t mind.” She laughed a little, and then gave you a smile that could only be described as bashful. “In all honesty, all I did was put the chicken in the pan and cover it.”
You chuckled a little. “A proper chef, then.”
She returned your laugh, and then awkwardness prickled at the back of your neck as silence descended over you. Desperate to break it, you held out the bottle of wine to her. “Well, I brought the other half of dinner.”
She smiled, taking it and glancing at the label before looking back at you. “Most important part.”
Silence descended again, and you rocked on your feet a moment before Farah gestured to the kitchen. “Come in, please, I won’t make you stand in the doorway all night.”
You toed off your shoes while Farah fished out a corkscrew, deftly opening the bottle and pouring two glasses. She handed you one, then held hers up and tilted her head in question. “Anything we should toast to?”
You opened your mouth, thinking, then smiled at her and raised your own glass. “Friendly.”
She smiled at your reference, then lightly tapped her glass with yours. “Friendly.”
Trying not to gulp your wine, it made you feel better that it seemed like Farah was trying not to do the same thing. As poised and elegant as she always seemed to be, at least you both were feeling the awkwardness of the moment.
“So,” you said after a long minute, trying to think of a topic. “How was your day?”
She nodded a few times. “Good, it was good. Busy, the end of the school year always is.”
“Oh?” you asked, doing anything to keep the conversation going.
Farah nodded again. “It always is, but especially this year, with…” she waved a hand as though to say everything that happened earlier that’s too difficult to put into words because it would take too long. “Luna seems to have accepted my tenure as Headmistress again, but I have to wonder if she’s just biding her time to catch me off guard, so I’m trying to keep all of our business meticulously neat.”
“That sounds exhausting,” you said, and Farah tilted her head in agreement. “Though, I imagine that’s better than preparing for the war Rosalind thought was coming?”
“Yes,” she said on an exhale, nodding. “I’d much rather prepare for a scathing audit than prepare for another war.”
Her eyes dimmed a bit when she mentioned war, and she stared hard down at the tile floor, running her foot along one of the seams. Awkwardness blanketed you again, and unsure of how to break this one, you took the chance to look around her home. It was different from the one you used to share, of course, being that she now lived in the Headmistress’ quarters, but in so many ways, it was… the same. The furniture was newer, but was still in the dark brown shade you remembered from before. You’d never seen the blanket thrown over the back of the couch before, but it’s purple color was one you knew she was fond of. The fireplace was a luxury you hadn’t had in the suite you shared, but the mantle proudly displayed pictures, just like the pictures you’d displayed on tables and shelves in your old home. The bookshelves, packed tight with books and trinkets and plants, looked just like they did when you lived together (though the plants were new), and you thought if you looked at the books closer you’d see some of the same volumes she’d had seventeen years ago.
“You haven’t changed much,” you said softly, mostly to yourself, but the way cocked her head told you she’d heard.
“No?” she asked, equally as soft, and you fought the blush rising on your cheeks.
“I just mean—“ you gestured around the room with your glass, “this all looks similar to… well, before.”
You couldn’t quite bring yourself to mention explicitly the time you lived together, and from Farah’s nod, it seemed like she couldn’t say it either.
“I like things a certain way,” she said with a small smile, taking a sip of wine. “I suppose that way hasn’t changed much over the years.”
“Not a bad thing,” you said in an effort to fill the silence, and the smile Farah gave you was much more strained, though you didn’t know why.
She turned suddenly to the stove, lifting the lid and turning the pieces of chicken with a fork. “These will be done soon.” She nodded towards the fridge. “It’s not much, but I think there’s a frozen bag of green beans in the freezer.”
You nodded and pulled them out, setting them in the microwave before returning to your spot and cocking a hip against the island, desperately trying to think of a conversation topic before she turned back from the stove.
When you both had settled in again and taken sips of your wine, you decided the school would be a safe topic. “You’ll never guess what I confiscated from a student a couple weeks ago.”
Farah gave you a tight lipped smile, like she was trying to suppress a grin threatening to break through. “I have a drawer in my office that would suggest I’ve seen it all, but tell me anyway.”
“Do you remember those smoke bombs that Saul and Ben made one year in the greenhouse?”
Farah’s eyebrows shot to her hairline, and then she did grin this time as she laughed half in disbelief. “You’re kidding.”
You shook your head solemnly, biting your lip to keep back the laugh that wanted to break free just from hearing Farah’s. “Unfortunately not. All I could think about were the soot stains Saul had when he accidentally dropped one while I was very gingerly carrying them to dispose of them.”
She laughed harder, dropping her head in memory. “I’d forgotten about that. I’ll have to remind him next time I see him.”
You snorted. “Let me be there when you do?”
She nodded, still chuckling, then sighed and shook her head. “It’s good to know teenagers haven’t changed over the years.”
“No, they haven’t,” you agreed, and it was quiet for a moment before you continued. “I’d forgotten what it’s like to work with teenagers. A lot of the recruits for the army were teenagers or early twenties, but it’s different. There’s so much change between being in school and being in the army.”
Farah nodded. “It is different. There’s still an innocence when they’re in school. One I wish they could keep longer, but…”
But, you thought, and took a sip of your wine. We know all too well about losing innocence too quickly.
You both seemed lost in thought for a moment, and then Farah took a deep breath, setting aside her wine glass. “I will admit the smoke bomb is a new one, though I bet my drawer contains even more surprising objects.”
“First,” you said smiling, “it’s rude to turn this into a competition, you’ve had years to gather items.” She smiled back at you, and you gestured with your hand. “But continue anyway.”
Conversation flowed easier between you then, settling like a river does after a storm as it continued into dinner, and even the moments of silence you had became less awkward as you started to be comfortable in each other’s presence again. Olive branches were extended and taken, and for a few, fleeting seconds, it almost felt like it had when you were young.
When you’d both finished your meal, Farah stood and took your plates to the sink and wrapped up the remaining chicken before putting it in the fridge.
“This was a good dinner,” you told her as she came back to the table, not bothering to hide the surprise in your voice. “When did you manage to learn to cook?”
Farah shot you a coy look as she sat down again. “Twenty years is a long enough time to learn a couple dishes.”
You laughed and took a sip of your wine. “Fair enough. You were always good at learning.”
You stared at the wine left in your glass as you both fell into a silence, not quite awkward but not quite comfortable either. When you managed to lift your eyes up to Farah, there was an odd, melancholic look on her face, one she masked when she noticed your gaze, but it was too late.
“What’s wrong?” you asked gently.
“Nothing,” she said in a voice so convincing you nearly believed her, but you’d seen that look.
“Farah,” you said, trying to keep the exasperation out of your voice, “if we’re going to salvage this, we have to talk to each other. I get we all have our private things, but we can’t fall into a cycle of lying to each other.”
She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “You’re right,” she said, and gave you a small smile. “I was just thinking about the last time we had dinner together like this.”
You dropped your eyes to the table for a moment, then looked back at her. “When I… our engagement dinner,” you said instead, and gave her your own small smile. “I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t thought of it either.”
“How things have changed,” she said with a little chuckle.
“Yeah,” you said with a little nod. “But then, not really, either.” Farah tilted her head as though confused, and you shrugged. “We’re still at Alfea,” you elaborated, and both of you smiled. “Maybe a few years older, but I’m pretty sure this is the same tablecloth as that night.”
She grinned then, and smoothed a hand over the wine-colored fabric. “They’ve held up over the years. No reason to get new ones.”
You laughed, and when there was a moment of silence between you, you continued on. “We were ready to start something new that night. And… I think tonight is similar. Maybe not something as deep and life changing as then, but…” you trailed off, feeling silly for bringing up the notion, but then you met Farah’s eyes and something passed between you that made your heart jump just a little.
“Something new,” Farah said slowly. “Friendship?”
“Maybe,” you said after a beat, wondering if she was teetering on the same precipice you were. “Friendship, or…”
Both too scared to say it, to even begin to voice out loud the idea of something more, something like what you once had been, neither of you spoke. Then Farah stood, and you watched her walk back towards her bedroom. Confused, you heard the sound of a drawer opening and closing, and then she came back to you and sat down, holding something in her hand that you couldn’t see.
And then she set down the ring box you’d given her all those years ago, open to show the glittering diamond inside, just like you had done on that night.
“I kept it,” she said after a minute, and you couldn’t take your eyes off of the ring. “All these years. I tried many times to get rid of it, and was told many times to get rid of it to help myself heal, but… I couldn’t.”
You managed to tear your gaze away to see her sad smile, to see her own eyes locked on the ring. “It was one of the few things I had left of you. I suppose I kept it for that, and to… remind myself of where I went wrong.”
That broke your heart, more than leaving her, more than the years you’d spent apart knowing she was out there. “You didn’t go wrong,” you murmured, and that made her look up at you. “I mean,” you chuckled wryly, “you made mistakes — hell, I made a lot too. We were both responsible for that. But you didn’t go wrong.” When Farah just stared at you, you sighed. “Rosalind was… good at spinning a web. I didn’t know her as well as you, nor did I work as closely, and still even I was caught up in her lies, her stories. Was still caught up in them even after I left. It wasn’t until many years later that I recognized the depth of her hold, and so the fact that you, her protégé, managed to get out at all…”
You sighed again and reached out to spin the stem of your wine glass, staring at it sliding against the tablecloth. “I guess I’m just trying to say that you’re not at fault for how tight she kept your leash, nor for the blinders she put on you. And even with that, the fact that you saw who she really was in the end, saw through her lies and rose up to stop her? That tells me that you didn’t go wrong.”
Something in the corner of your eye moved, and you looked up to see twin tears spill over Farah’s lashes and down her cheeks. “Farah,” you breathed, made to stand, but quick as anything her hands shot out and gripped yours, clinging like a lifeline with the ring box still sitting in between your joined hands.
“I,” she started, voice wobbling before it steadied. “I have been trying to convince myself of just that for eighteen years. For eighteen years, I have known that in my head, but in my heart—”
You could see it in her eyes, everything she wanted to say to you, and in a moment of courage you stood from your chair and came around to hers. So slowly you felt like seconds were dragged out into eternities, you sat on her lap like she had on that night. Her hands came to your waist, and she was as warm as you remembered her being, warmer still when you pressed close, twined your arms around her neck, and just when you felt like you’d drown in her bright, brown eyes, you leaned down and brushed your lips over hers.
Your kiss was gentle, hesitant, but the fact that the shape of her lips was the same as all those years ago made you want to weep. It was new, it was known, it was awkward, it was intimate, it was everything you’d forgotten you’d missed in your life, and everything you wanted for the years to come. For a moment, it was all that existed; all that you needed to live.
Farah took a deep, shuddering breath against your lips and gripped your waist tighter, suddenly putting an urgency into the kiss that made you sink into it and let out a small noise against her mouth. When you cupped the nape of her neck, tangling your fingers in the hair there, Farah let her hands drift up and down your back, and you found yourself curving into her touch, its warmth like a balm against your skin.
You pulled away and your eyes fluttered open to meet hers, and dimly you realized you hadn’t been this close to her in eighteen years. You studied her, relishing in the luxury to look so openly, so freely, to study her features like you had once before. The lines on her face were new, and for a moment you mourned that you hadn’t been there to see them form, but then excitement slipped through you at the prospect of mapping them, memorizing them, knowing them better than anything else in the world.
You shivered, more from emotion than anything, but Farah felt it and saw the goosebumps on your arms. She looked over your shoulder, and when her eyes began to glow, you turned your head and watched as a small flame appeared in the fireplace, building and building until it was a comfortable blaze.
Turning back to her, you smiled softly, and couldn’t stop yourself from cupping her cheek. “I always loved when you did magic.”
She returned your smile and ran a gentle hand down your spine. “I remember.” Her voice was rough, and those two words meant more to you than anything else she could have said.
“I remember everything, too,” you whispered, and the weight of all those memories you’d kept so carefully locked away pulled at you until you had to lay your forehead against hers. “Every moment with you, every piece of knowledge I learned about you, all of it, I remember it all.”
“How could I ever forget some of the best moments of my life?”
You kissed her, hard, another tidal wave of emotion brought on by her words threatening to choke you. It felt like she was the air you breathed, the lifesource needed to bring your soul back to a glorious light that you’d forgotten it once possessed. For one moment she was the last solid surface in an overwhelming sea, and you clung to her from fear of drowning.
Her teeth pressed against your bottom lip — not hard enough to hurt, but enough to make you gasp at the sensation, your throat catching in a breathy little sound.
“You make the same noise there,” she said, voice choked with emotion, lust, love, a million things you couldn’t begin to describe, “when I used to do that.”
“Keep kissing me,” you returned, voice choked too with all the nameless things, “so I can see if you make the same noises too.”
“I did not have a hand in that!” you exclaimed while laughing, carefully mixing in the sauce you’d just poured over your food. Neither you nor Saul had any classes or meetings the period after the lunch hour, and over the past few weeks it had become routine for you both to grab some of the last meals from the cafeteria and share them at the now empty tables, quickly falling into the rhythm of friendship you’d so dearly treasured during your days at Alfea.
“Yes, you absolutely did,” he responded through a mouthful of rice.
“No way.”
“Yes way.”
You snorted at his choice of words, and angled yourself to face him more directly from your seat next to him. “‘Yes way’, really, what are you, twelve?”
“Don’t dig on my language,” he said after swallowing. “The point is, you should have shared in the punishment for getting that cow in the school.”
“I’m sorry, did you see me leading it through the hallways?”
“No, but you were the instigator, that’s just as bad as being directly involved.”
“Oh, please,” you said with a laugh. “Farah planted half of the ideas for the shenanigans you two got into — if that’s going to be your argument, then she should share culpability.”
“She did not! We got into trouble all on our own.”
“Oh, I’m not disagreeing with that, but who came up with the idea to try to make wine in the greenhouse? Or for that party you threw your fourth year, or for that thing with the stop sign?”
He was silent a moment, thinking, and then his jaw dropped and he set his plate aside. “Son of a bitch, that was all her. How did I never know that?”
You gave a faux noise of pity and reached out and put a hand on his shoulder. “I’m sorry, did I just ruin your reputation as a trickster?”
“Yes, you did, and you’re going to have to work very hard to restore my self esteem,” he said in a mock serious tone, and you couldn’t help but laugh, rubbing his shoulder affectionately.
Heels on the stone floor echoed through the room, and you looked up to see Farah pass by. For a second you were still, and then slowly you sat up straight, putting your hands in your lap, but definitely not before she saw how close you and Saul were. For a long moment, you stared at each other, and then she cooly glanced back to the file in her hands, walking on as though she never saw you as Saul turned to look at her.
He turned back to you as Farah disappeared from sight and gave you a sympathetic look. “Still awkward around her?”
You gave him a look that said what do you think? “We haven’t really interacted since… Well, since that day in her office.”
“Wasn’t that pleasant,” he said flatly, and you gave him an equally flat look.
“Let’s switch places, see how smooth you are.”
He nodded as though to say fair enough. “I know it’s only been a few weeks, and you guys have a lot of history, but do you think you’ll ever be in a place to…” He shrugged, a gesture that could have meant anything from not be completely awkward around each othertofall madly in love again.
You stared hard down at your plate, pushing food around. Those were questions you had been avoiding thinking about yourself. “I don’t know. Everything’s so… real, being at Alfea again. It’s overwhelming to think about sometimes.”
He nodded, pushing food around on his own plate.
“When I first left, I used to imagine how this would go,” you said quietly, not sure why you felt the need to tell him. “Not this scenario exactly, I never did imagine her giving me a job nearly two decades later.”
He chuckled and nodded in agreement, and you continued. “But I imagined what I’d do, what I’d say, if we saw each other again.” You gave a wry chuckle. “Needless to say, I was very wrong.”
“I don’t think you can predict stuff like that,” he said gently, and you looked up at him with curiosity. “Stuff like this, I think it changes from moment to moment, and I think you sort of have to react the best you can in the moment you’re in and… leave the rest up to fate.”
“That’s very poetic,” you said, fighting against a smile. “You should make a career change.”
He snorted and nudged you playfully, making you laugh.
“Really, though, that’s…” you started again, “comforting to hear. Thank you, for saying that, and for listening. I know me being here puts you in an awkward position.”
He smiled softly at you. “I won’t disagree that I’m in an awkward position, but it’s not just because you’re here.” He stood up with his plate, leaning over to press a quick kiss to the top of your head. “I’d rather have you here than not. I gotta go.”
You smiled. “Such a charmer, tell me why you’re single again?”
He gave a wry laugh. “That is a little story between me and a guy who tried to kill me.”
“And I thought my love life was messy.”
“Yeah, count yourself lucky,” he chuckled as he threw away his food. “You could be me.”
That made you laugh again, and you waved over your shoulder. “See you later.”
He waved back, and you took a moment to be thankful that some relationships didn’t change, regardless of the years between them.
~~~~~~~~~
Farah poured herself another shot of vodka, dimly wondering why she was even bothering with her glass anymore.
Because that’s what a drunk would do, she thought bitterly, and damn it all to hell if she was a drunk, drinking alone and straight from the bottle while on school grounds. She may be drinking alone, and she may be on school grounds, but she couldn’t quite cross that line.
She couldn’t drink in her office anymore and hadn’t been able to for years, the uncanny feeling that Rosalind was watching her with a raised eyebrow from her prison below too unsettling, despite having seen her body lying cold on the Earth (and despite having been the one who killed her). Instead she sat in the courtyard near the assembly hall, the place her, Saul and Ben tended to sit when they got together after hours, but she couldn’t bear to go home, the uncanny feeling that shewas close enough in her own suite to see the mess she’d become also too unsettling.
How could she have been so foolish as to think she could handle this? This mistake of bringing back the woman who’d broken her heart and bruised her soul, why had she done this?
She’s here for the students, the rational part of her brain whispered. There’s no one better than her to keep them safe, and it’s your job to do whatever necessary to keep them safe.
Job be damned, the hurt, angry part of her mind spat back, all the louder with drink and easier to listen to, especially when her face kept drifting back into her mind.
Her face, bright with the sweet smile she’d nearly forgotten how much she loved. She’d been laughing and happy, and more beautiful with age than the last time she’d seen her. And then the moment she walked by, it had been like a cloud had come over the sun, dim and dark and nearly as heartbreaking as the day she came home to find her gone.
And embarrassingly, upsettingly gut wrenching when she saw it had been Saul she’d been smiling at.
“Didn’t expect to see you here.”
As though she summoned him, she looked up to see Saul standing before her, and the flare of anger in her stomach made her want to be sick before the guilt was swallowed by the ice spreading through her heart.
“It’s my school,” she said flatly, cooly, and he raised his eyebrows, looking between her and the bottle that sat in front of her.
“Never said it wasn’t,” he replied, just a touch of ice in his own voice, and that made Farah’s blood burn all the more.
“You certainly walk around like you own the place — you and her.”
His eyes widened a bit in realization, and he crossed his arms as he leaned his shoulder against a pillar, his voice soft when he spoke. “Is that what this mood is about?”
Dimly, she realized her temper was nonsense and unwarranted, but the venom in her mouth, fueled by alcohol and very little food, quickly burned out any rationalizations in her mind. “Don’t belittle this into nothing more than a mood. You liked her too, back in the day, but she chose me. But now that she’s back and I’m out of the way, you couldn’t help but walk all over the shattered remains of what we were.”
“Farah,” Saul interrupted, voice low in warning, but Farah glared at him, eyes burning in a way that could make a grown man shiver.
“Don’t,” she said in an equally low voice, and much more dangerous. Standing from her seat, she stalked towards him. “Do not play me for the fool. I know what I see, mainly because neither of you bother to hide it,” she sneered. She was face to face with him now, and neither refused to back down. “You just couldn’t help but finally get what you wanted, hm? You just couldn’t wait to get your hands on her, could you?”
“Hey, back off,” he said in a sharp tone, and Farah jerked as though she’d been slapped, stumbling backwards as the weight of her words suddenly caught up to her.
“Oh, gods,” she murmured as her back hit the wall, and she slumped to the floor, burying her head in her hands. “I’m sorry, that was…” she let out a hiccuping little chuckle that sounded nearly like a sob, and dropped her hands to her lap, “horrendously rude, especially to my best friend.” She hung her head, shaking it. “I’m sorry.”
Saul let out a sigh, and walked over to slide down the wall and sit next to her. “You’ve certainly seen me do some stupid shit. I think you’re allowed to have your moments.”
“It was one hell of a moment.”
Saul chuckled, and grabbed one of her hands, squeezing it. “I’ll agree with you on that. But all’s okay.”
She leaned her head against his shoulder, letting herself sit there for a moment before straightening again. “I never knew the extent that jealousy could wreck a person.”
“Farah, you know nothing is going on with me and her. I know what she meant to you, and what you mean to her.”
Farah snorted. “I don’t know if I mean that much to her anymore.”
“You do.” When Farah shook her head, Saul sat up and gripped her arm. “Farah, I wouldn’t lie to you about that. I see the way you are around each other the moment one of you enters a room, or the way she looks after you when you leave. What you guys had isn’t just some distant thing for her, and it certainly isn’t for you. I wouldn’t get in the way of that, no matter what happens between you now.”
Farah gave him a small, sad smile. “I think that ‘thing’ is too royally fucked up now for anything to happen.”
“Sometimes the best things start out being royally fucked up.”
“Name one.”
“I’m trying to cheer you up, stop countering me with logic.”
Farah gave a laugh, a genuine one that made Saul sigh with relief. “Maybe this will be one of those things that defies logic.”
“That’s the spirit,” he said and sat back against the wall. “I think if you talked to her, really talked to her, you could work it out.” She made a quiet, considering noise, and he continued. “I don’t think that ‘thing’ has run its course, Farah. You two were the best of us, when we were young. The ones who were meant to last. I don’t think that’s changed, even after… everything.”
“Everything,” Farah echoed, then sighed and nodded before raising an eyebrow at him. “Since when are you the responsible one?”
“Apparently when you’re too drunk to be responsible for me.”
Her lips curled into something like a smirk. “We do usually get drunk together.”
“Yeah, and I much prefer that to being the responsible one, hand me the bottle.”
Chuckling, Farah stumbled to her feet and grabbed the bottle, handing it to him as she plopped down on the floor again. “Better catch up, because I’m not done with my self-pity yet.”
“Gods, you’re a sad drunk,” he said, taking a drink from the bottle.
Farah snorted, resting her head on his shoulder again. “Let’s see how happy you are when you have to work with your ex-fiancee.”
“I have an ex-boyfriend that I killed show up from the dead and throw me in prison, does that count?”
Farah sniffed, thought for a moment. “Yeah, okay.”
“Should we call Ben and see if he wants to join? We all haven’t had a good mope party in a while.”
Farah nodded and reached for her phone. “I could use another audience to cry to.”
No matter what happened between you and her, Farah thought as Ben promised to be there with an extra bottle of wine, at the very least she would always have her friends.
~~~~~~~~~
Your time at Alfea passed mostly with ease — you spent most of your time training, focusing mainly on your group of fourth years that had aspirations to enter the Solarian army. Most of your faculty meetings luckily only consisted of other Specialist trainers, and as for the ones that did involve the Headmistress, you simply repeated the word professionalism to yourself over and over again whenever your mind tried to stray too far into dangerous territory.
And that worked, most of the time. And the other times, you simply excused yourself from the situation until whatever feelings of awkwardness or, more frustrating, longing, had passed. But as the year came to an end, Farah began to observe training more and more to evaluate the overall progress of the students, and try as you might, your normal techniques to keep your mind on a neutral topic were beginning to fail you.
It was a cold, misty day, one that made you wish you were the one sparring if only to warm up, when you spotted Farah enter the training pitch, and those around her seemed to straighten subconsciously just from the presence she commanded. She wore a smart navy coat, accentuated with a belt that fit snug around her waist and a red scarf, and for half a second you were wondering about how that waist would feel underneath your hands when you snapped yourself out of it, redoubling your focus on the pair of students you were observing.
But as it always was with Farah, you couldn’t keep your eyes off her. She demanded attention even when she didn’t try to, with her powerful, confident stride, her sharp eyes that felt like they saw everything, and as hard as you tried to focus on your students, your gaze was drawn to every flash of red in the corner of your eye.
When she walked around the other side of the platform you were at, your eyes locked, and that sharp stare focused on you made your heart beat double. Though her stride never broke, she held your gaze for what seemed like an eternity. Could she feel that connection, too? That pull, that magnetism that made it impossible to look away, did she have to fight against it like you did, every time you were near? In moments like this, did she feel that link between you, fragile from disuse, but still alive even after all the years?
“Ma’am?”
One of your students called to you, and you tore your attention back to the pair, only to realize they’d finished the drill you were assessing. You nodded once, trying to project confidence, then gestured to the mat with a jut of your chin. “Again.”
When you looked back to where she had been, she was gone.
Drills continued without a hitch, and it wasn’t until later that you saw Farah again, coming from the other half of the pitch. Her long legs ate up the distance as she walked directly towards you, and out of habit you glanced around to see who else she might be looking for, but when she nodded at you in greeting, you realized she really had come to speak to you.
“Farah,” you said as she approached, nodding back at her as you did.
She stood next to you and looked out at the sparring students, observing them for a minute before speaking. “You’re a good instructor.” She looked back at you and nodded again. “Your time in the army has honed that skill.”
“Thank you,” you said, then let silence fall as you observed their drills. “I can’t take all the credit, though,” you said after a bit. “They’re extra motivated this semester. From recent events, I believe.”
Farah tilted her head up in acknowledgement, shifting to clasp her hands in front of her. “I wish they didn’t have to be, but it’s good that they’re prepared to fight. I still don’t know if they’ll need to or not.”
You were quiet a moment, taking in the gravity of that statement. “Regardless, they’ll be ready.”
She nodded again and watched the students for a little while longer, then turned to face you when you signaled for the groups to switch partners. “As we near the end of your contract term, I would like to meet with you to discuss your future as an instructor.”
Well, she hasn’t fired me outright, you thought cynically to yourself, then shook away the thought. “Of course. Just name the time, I’ll come to your office.”
“I’m free this afternoon, if you would be willing to come by after you finish training?”
You nodded. “They’re almost done here, I can be up shortly.”
“Good,” she said, and then after a moment, she gave you a small smile as though to reassure you. It was easy to return it, you realized, and you thought you saw a flicker behind her eyes when you did.
She turned back to the mats then, and stood by you while you observed your group work through a circuit of exercises. That was easy too, you realized, just to stand by her in a comfortable silence, and when she finally turned and walked away, you felt just a twinge of sadness watching her go.
Farah was in the back of your mind during the rest of the drills, but you managed to finish your duties competently, and then dismissed your students with praise on how much they’d accomplished this semester. As they milled about and began to disperse, you gathered your things and made your way back to the main building.
Her office door was open when you arrived, and she was standing in front of a tall file cabinet, deftly flicking through the tabs with a look of concentration. You knocked softly on the door jam, giving her a small smile when she looked up.
“Come in, please,” she said, returning your smile. “I’ll be just a minute.”
You nodded and stepped in, making your way to the sitting area as you looked around the room. The last time you’d spent any period of time in her office, you’d been too taken aback by meeting face to face with your ex for the first time in seventeen years that you hadn’t noticed any of the decorations. But now that the sight of Farah didn’t feel quite like a punch to the gut anymore, you were able to take in the peacock blue walls, she always did look good in blue, the bookcase after bookcase all packed tightly, the odd assortment of trinkets she had scattered neatly about, and the potted plants she had sitting on nearly every flat surface.
“I don’t remember you being that good with plants,” you blurted out before you could think, but Farah just smiled faintly as she took a seat at her desk.
“Terra, my niece — Ben’s daughter — she grew many of them for me.”
You couldn’t help but smile at that, wondering briefly what she was like as an aunt before you refocused yourself on your purpose here. “You said you wanted to discuss my future here at Alfea?”
“Yes,” she said as she gestured to the chair in front of her desk. “Please, sit.”
She arranged a small stack of papers as you did, straightening them before tucking them neatly into a manilla folder which she placed in front of her. She folded her hands on it, then looked back up at you. “As I told you at the beginning of your contract, I hired you on a preliminary basis, to provide extra protection and better training to the students during a tumultuous time. Though there are many unanswered questions surrounding the coup that took place earlier, I do not believe the school is in as dire of a situation as I feared. In part, I believe, because of your presence.”
“Thank you,” you said after a moment of shock. “I’m glad to hear I’ve done well here at Alfea.”
“I can’t deny the effect you’ve had. There’s a higher percentage of our newest graduates being headhunted by the Solarian army, as well as a higher percentage of graduates opting to stay here as Specialists to continue to train students and defend the school. The first year groups have advanced more than previous years, and there’s a lower dropout rate this semester, despite the challenges we faced earlier this year.” She sat back, resting her elbows on the arms of her chair. “I cannot say you were the only cause, but you were most definitely a factor in that success.”
You nodded again in gratitude, and Farah continued. “Which is why I would be a fool not to offer you a more permanent contract.” She picked up the manilla folder and placed it in front of you. “I took the liberty of drawing one up for you. This contract is for three years, at which time evaluations will be done and the contract can be renegotiated by either party should it be necessary.”
You opened up the folder, a precursory glance showing you it was very much similar to your contract now, only for a longer time.
“You don’t have to sign it now,” Farah continued. “You can take the contract, read it over, think about your decision. I only ask that I have your answer within two weeks.”
You continued to flip through the contract, skimming each page, until you reached the last page and saw the tab Farah had put there, indicating where you should sign. And for some odd reason, that tab made your heart melt. It was such a small, detailed thing, and so Farah that you had to bite back a smile at the sight of it (and bite back a laugh at the little Alfean logo stamped on the end of it —soFarah).
“I don’t need to think,” you said, staring at the tab a moment longer before looking up and grabbing a pen. You signed your name, right underneath her elegant signature, before closing the folder and handing it back to her. She looked mildly surprised as she took it from you, and you sat back in your chair, feeling like you needed to explain.
“I like it here — more than like, really,” you said with a little chuckle. “I spent a large part of my life here. In some ways, it’s still like home for me. And my position in the army, that was just a job, but being a teacher here is more than that, it feels right, it feels good.” You shrugged, staring down at your hands. “Teaching the kids is wonderful, and the people here…”
You trailed off, feeling like you’d slipped into dangerous territory when you realized one of those people you were about to praise was her. She’d become something of a comforting presence without you realizing it, an ever-present, distant figure that you knew was looking out for the school protecting everyone. It had become comforting to have her in your life again, and that thought was…
“Thank you,” you said suddenly, standing up from your chair, “for this opportunity. I’m pleased that I’ll be continuing to work here for the foreseeable future.”
You turned towards the door with some desperation, thinking you had to get out of there before your thoughts traveled too far down a path you couldn’t call them back from, before they strayed towards thoughts of Farah when you were young and thoughts of what Farah could become and—
“Wait,” she said with a desperation that made you pause and turn around again, and for a moment she looked like she did when you were both twenty two and fresh to the world. She stood, fingertips pressed to her desk, and seemed to flounder a moment before speaking. “I… I’m sorry,” she looked down at the polished wood, and a small tendril of hair fell over her forehead, “for the way things happened when…” she seemed to flounder again, then looked up to meet your eyes. “The last time we saw each other.”
You’d last seen her just hours ago on the training grounds, but somehow you knew that wasn’t the time she was talking about.
“I chose a madwoman over you,” she continued, her voice soft. “Chose to try and please her over the promises we had made, and I’m sorry for that.”
A rush of emotions pulled at your heart, pulled you so that you didn’t know what to think, what to feel. You just stood there, paralyzed by the war raging in your mind and your heart. Stood there for just a bit too long, it seems, because Farah’s face fell just a little, and she sat down in her chair again.
“I don’t say this with any expectations, to be clear. I only say it because it’s what you deserve to hear, and because I’ve wanted to make that apology for a long time.”
You opened your mouth to speak, then closed it again. Swallowed and cleared your throat, then tried again. “Eighteen years is a long time. Long enough to move on, but… I didn’t realize how much that would mean to me. So thank you.
She nodded, and in the spirit of things, you spoke the apology that had weighed heavy on your tongue for so long. “For what it’s worth, I’m sorry for just… leaving. I never gave you the opportunity to defend yourself. Or never really talked about what was bothering me, or what I expected out of… us. So… I’m sorry too.”
Farah smiled a little, then nodded again. “We were young and foolish. Perhaps that’s not the reason for everything we did, but… thank you for the apology.”
You recognized her words for the acceptance of your apology that they were, and so you sat down in front of her desk again — your own acceptance of hers.
“I still—” you started, then paused, wondering how best to explain it, “miss you. The company we had together, how well we got along.” Her features were unreadable, and with a pang you realized it was just because you didn’t know her face well enough anymore. “If my time here at Alfea is going to become permanent, then I’d like for us to be…” you grasped for a word, what did you call people who were once engaged and now faced working together for the foreseeable future? “Friendly.”
She gave you a small smile, and you couldn’t help but return it. “Friendly,” she echoed, and then nodded. “I’d like that too.”
You both seemed to run out of words, so you stood, turned to leave. But then stopped again. Turned and blurted your words before you could overthink them. “I don’t have anything for dinner tomorrow.”
She stared at you. Then smiled faintly and cocked her head. “I have a marinade I was going to throw together.”
You let out your breath in a relieved huff, smiled at her. Twenty years and she could still read your mind. “Mind if I join?”
The trip to the city didn’t happen that weekend, or the next, or even the one after. Rosalind ordered a mission the day after your engagement, one with just “her four”, and one that very obviously didn’t include you. Three weeks with no news, three weeks with your ring newly on Farah’s finger but your bed empty, a deliberate three weeks away you knew Rosalind did on purpose, a glaring response to that glittering ring on Farah’s finger.
They came back, safe and unharmed, and Farah was once again in your bed, and new plans were made for a ring. And two days later, Rosalind’s Four were off again.
Five months like that, five long, lonely months you were alone, having to be content with the snatches of time you got with Farah. She hated going as much as you did, apologized every time her bags were packed again by the door, and though the ring on her finger was enough to keep you calm for a time, the longer yours remained bare, the more the sight of it made your stomach sink.
But you banished all of those dark thoughts, for this weekend was your anniversary, and in a rare phone call Farah managed to get to you, she’d told you that she’d be back in time for it, and Rosalind had promised they would have a week off, ‘special for the lovebirds’, Farah had told you.
She came back three days before your anniversary, and for three glorious days you got to bask in the knowledge that Farah would be home, would be the first thing you woke up to and the last thing before sleep. She would be there for your anniversary, and the day after that you would finally get that ring, would finally be able to feel like your engagement was complete.
On the fourth day you woke up to her, kissed her awake. Kissed her goodbye that afternoon when you went out to get groceries for your special dinner that night.
And came home to an empty house — her duffle bag gone, and a note on the table that said I’m sorry.
Promises broken, veiled by the thin excuse of Rosalind’s orders. Rosalind would always be what she was, would always play the dirty game to pull Farah away from you, to keep you from ‘distracting’ her, to keep her sequestered and alone and all for herself.
But Farah didn’t have to obey.
You cried all that night, drank the bottle of wine you’d bought special for your anniversary. You didn’t allow yourself to cry the next few days as you took a hard stock of where you were, where Farah was, what you wanted to do next. But when you began to pack up your things, began to empty out your drawers and untangle your presence from Farah’s in the home you shared, you let the tears fall again.
You left your key on the kitchen table. Rubbed your thumb over your bare ring finger, and wondered if you would’ve had the guts to leave the ring behind if you had one.
And climbing into your car, watching what had been your home disappear in the rearview mirror, you let your heart shatter.
~~~~~~~~~
Three weeks after you left, in your new apartment in the city, news came of the eradication of the Burned Ones, along with the news of Farah being instated as the Headmistress of Alfea. Others rejoiced — the stories of families and villages being ripped apart would be a thing of a past, but despite that you knew something had happened. Rosalind never would have given up her position willingly regardless of what she said of Farah being her protégé, you could see that clearly now. The more you looked, the more you couldn’t find any news of her other than a vague notice of her death, and why was it that Rosalind, the woman responsible for the death of the Burned Ones, wasn’t being mentioned anywhere?
Something had happened to Rosalind’s Four — or three now, as you learned of Andreas’ death too — and you could see it was something terrible in a portrait of Farah that was circulating the newspapers. The ever-present gleam in her eye was gone, replaced with something darker, and there was a hardness around her mouth that you’d never seen before. When you dug out the single picture of her you’d kept and compared them, you nearly couldn’t recognize the woman in the newspaper.
With Rosalind gone, the weight of Alfea would sit solely on Farah’s shoulders. You ached to reach out, ached to go home to her, ached to pull her close and chase the darkness from her eyes. Nearly did one night, keys in your hand and ready to drive all night until you fell on her doorstep.
But news came that Farah had expanded Alfea’s leadership to include Saul as Headmaster of the Specialists. Ben had been made a full Professor of Botany, and the staff continued to expand to include Ancient Runes and Languages, Magical Theory, Solarian History, and countless other topics that would teach the students of the world beyond Alfea.
Alfea’s weight wasn’t Farah’s alone anymore. She wasn’t alone anymore. Whatever had happened to them, it seemed as though good had come out of it, and who were you to muck that up? She had made her choice, just as you had made yours.
Farah dear, you thought, feeling as though you were saying goodbye. For what it’s worth, Alfea couldn’t be in better hands than yours. I’m glad you’ve found your calling.
And pushing aside the thoughts of what could have been, you set out to start a new life.
~~~~~~~~~
Farah set down her glass as the last of the drink burned its way down her throat. Her eyes drifted to the bookshelf as they always did recently when she was in Rosal— her office, and she lifted a hand to feel the ward she’d placed there intact. Only three people in the world knew that ward was there, and still she feared the day she might find it broken — from the inside or the outside, she didn’t know which she feared more.
She’d redecorated her office, tried to make it feel more like hers — not that Rosalind had ever used it, she’d always preferred the war room as her place of command. But despite the books, the trinkets, the warm light she’d brought into the room, she could still feel the ghosts that lingered there — Rosalind’s hand on her shoulder, hissing in her ear that she was in over her head, the licking heat of the flames she’d help set at Aster Dell, the pleading cries of the people she’d killed.
The choked voice of her darling love, asking her why she’d left her all alone. Why she’d chosen to kill all those people over having an anniversary dinner.
I didn’t know about them, Farah thought as she closed her eyes, pressed her fingers to them. I can’t be blamed for what was kept from me, I didn’t know.
But couldn’t she be blamed? Blamed for blindly following orders, blamed for refusing to see the signs, blamed for leaving when she should have stayed, blamed, blamed, blamed.
Farah pushed up from her chair and paced to the other end of the room, pressing her hands to the wall as she bowed her head, taking shaky breaths until the nausea passed and the screaming in her head stopped. When it did, she opened her eyes, and saw the chain dangling around her neck swaying just a bit with her movement. Because it hurt to do so, she pulled it from her shirt to stare at the glittering ring on the end of it. Only Saul and Ben knew it was there; they’d been there when she’d taken it off her finger and put it on the chain, then gone to Rosalind and told her she was ready to do whatever necessary to end the war.
And the war was over, and Rosalind as good as dead and Andreas truly dead. And you were…
She wanted to find you, wanted to scour the Earth and all its realms until she fell at your feet and begged. But how could she face you now, knowing she was a murderer? How could she drag the weight of Alfea with her while she searched for you?
Besides, people who didn’t leave a forwarding address didn’t want to be found. Things were better off this way.
She closed her fist around the ring, felt the diamond dig into her palm. Wherever you are, my darling, she thought, and tears welled in her eyes and fell to the floor. I only hope that you’re happy.
She dropped the ring back into her shirt, straightening as she wiped her eyes. Alfea was hers now, and dwelling in the past wouldn’t do it any good. Her self-pity would only weaken it, and the school needed to be strong, needed to be a haven to students that would protect them and show them the light in the world.
Never again would her students be used the way Rosalind had used her, used all of them. That was a promise she intended to keep, and so turning back to her desk and its mound of paperwork, she began to work.
~~~~~~~~~
Seventeen years passed with little event. You worked, you lived, you had a good life, and while the pain of your broken engagement dulled you for a time, the pain lessened until it was barely an ache, and Farah was nothing but a fond, distant memory from your life before.
If only you knew how that would change.
The note came in a plain white envelope with no return address, just your name neatly printed in the center. Confused, you dropped the rest of your mail and opened it up, pulling out the papers inside.
I don’t know what you’ve heard about Alfea in recent months…
There was no other introduction to the letter, and still no return address. The handwriting looked vaguely familiar, and you flipped to the last page to see if the sender had left any clue as to their identity.
And nearly fell to your knees when you saw the name Farah Dowling scrawled there.
With shaky hands you flipped the letter back over, stumbling to sit in a kitchen chair as you scanned the letter as fast as you could, wondering what Farah Dowling could want from you after seventeen years.
I don’t know what you’ve heard about Alfea in recent months, but I doubt much of it is true — Luna has tried to mitigate damage to the Solarian reputation. While the truth is complicated and dark, I will attempt to write the essence of it here. Rosalind did not die seventeen years ago. She committed atrocities against the village of Aster Dell, and when we discovered what she’d done, we locked her in an eternal sleep as punishment for her crimes. We believed we had defeated her, but one year ago, a student of hers infiltrated Alfea and began a cascade of events that ended with Rosalind being awoken, Saul in prison, and Ben threatened with the lives of his children. Our hands were tied; when I learned of her escape, I knew she would dispose of me, and went into hiding before she could harm me and began planning how to overthrow her once again.
I write to you not in search of pity or sympathy, but in search of help. I have successfully taken back Alfea, but I believe the threat is not over. Rosalind kept many things from me and is even more powerful than I realized, and what tricks she may have left I cannot anticipate. Alfea continues to be in danger. You continue to be one of the best Specialists that ever came through this school, and Alfea will need its best protectors to keep the students safe.
I am asking you to be one of its protectors. I offer you a contract of professorship — should you accept, you would train the students and prepare them for what may come, as well as watch over Alfea with the rest of the staff until we can ensure any threat has dissipated. I can provide you with more details if you need, or if you would like to negotiate the terms before signing the contract, I am open to that as well. I understand that our history may make this a complicated decision, but know that I do not ask for myself. I am only looking out for my school and my students, who do not deserve the cruelty they were subjected to underneath Rosalind.
I ask that you contact me within three days should you be interested in the position. I apologize for placing such a time constraint on you, but with the danger I fear is out there, I must make decisions quickly.
I hope you are well, and hope you will consider my offer carefully.
Farah Dowling
You let out a shaky breath, tossing the letter on the table as you sat back in your chair. The shock of Farah writing to you had been quickly usurped by the shock of the information contained within it. You’d known Rosalind to be manipulative, but never thought she’d do something so heinous that they would put her into an eternal sleep.
You picked up the letter, reading it again to try and gain any more information from it, but it was infuriatingly cryptic. Never was one for writing explanations, you thought bitterly, then scolded yourself, no, you would not become the bitter ex, especially not over a relationship from seventeen years ago.
She sounds worried, you thought as you read her letter yet again, and thought about how difficult it would be for you to reach out to her. To flat out offer me a position at Alfea without the expectation of any sort of negotiation, she must be desperate. Except desperate wasn’t the right word, you realized. Protective, you amended. Protective enough of her school to put aside her pride and reach out to you.
Three days to decide. Three days to pace, to wonder, and, you realized with surprise, to worry for her and the threats she spoke of.
Seventeen years apart, and the piece of your heart that permanently belonged to her was already fluttering. Always had to make things complicated for yourself, didn’t you? you thought to yourself as you shook your head, realizing that you’d already made up your mind.
In three days’ time, you’d be going back to Alfea.
~~~~~~~~~
You resigned your position from the Solarian Army the next day, then began packing your bags. You had no idea what you would need, had no idea even how long you’d be staying, and decided being over prepared was better than under.
With the contract signed and your instructions for arrival clear, you packed up your car and set off for the place you never thought you’d see again. Nothing like a reunion with your ex who’s giving you a job, you joked to yourself as you drove, attempting to tamp down the nerves bubbling up in your stomach the closer you got. What did you say to someone after seventeen years? Better yet, what did you say to the woman you were going to marry before you left her without a word?
You still didn’t have an answer to that question by the time you pulled up to Alfea. What could possibly go wrong with winging an important meeting with your new boss, you thought to yourself, and then chuckled. At least I’ve already signed the contract — not like she’ll fire me after two days.
Probably.
You’d been too distracted by the situation as you drove up to Alfea to notice anything, but as you got out of your car and started towards the main building, you finally realized just how different the school looked. They were the same buildings — you recognized that alcove from when you’d tugged Farah into it one day — no, don’t go there — and you recognized the courtyard from the countless times you’d had your students drop down for a rep of push ups during their laps around the school, but now it was all so… light.
It feels happy, you realized with a bit of a shock as you entered the main building. The Alfea you’d attended had been dedicated to turning its students into hardened warriors, but this Alfea… this Alfea felt like a school.
You felt a bit like a tourist as you walked through the halls, gaping at every turn, had the stone always been this white? I would’ve remembered the vines climbing the walls, right? Was the light coming through those windows always so… pure?
Farah’s instructions had been for you to come to her office, and with a jolt you realized you couldn’t remember where that was. Rosalind had always used the war room instead of a regular office, and with the shock of the school looking so differently, you felt completely turned around.
You stopped a student in the wide courtyard near the center of the school. “Excuse me, where’s the Headmistress’ office?”
He pointed down a hallway to your right. “Down to the end of a hall, then take a left, it’s down that hallway.”
You nodded. “Thank you,” you said and then set off that way, trying not to gawk at the stained glass rimming the windows.
Rounding the corner, you started poking your head into doorways, trying to find which one looked the most like a Headmistress’ office. Would it be too hard to put room numbers on the doors?
“Can I help you?”
In the fifth door, a girl with long braids, some of them dyed blue, looked at you interestedly, and you took a step into the room. “Yes, I’m looking for Headmistress Dowling’s office?”
You heard a thump off to the side, like something being dropped, and you looked to see stairs leading up to another room — that’s right, there was an office here — the door open in invitation and—
Farah.
For a moment, she was a stranger; seventeen years had aged you both, and you couldn’t recognize the woman she’d become. Then you blinked, and for that moment she was exactly as she had been, young and chipper with a cheeky grin that left you defenseless. Then the next moment, all of that shattered, and she became something of a mix of the two — the Farah you’d known and the Headmistress that stood before you now, and you couldn’t tell just what that did to you.
“It’s alright, Aisha,” Farah called from behind her desk where she stood, her eyes still on you, and goddamn if her voice didn’t make you shudder out a breath. “She has an appointment.”
The girl nodded in the corner of your eye, but you hardly noticed. You felt like you were in a dream as you walked up the stairs, Farah goddamn Dowling, in the flesh, like somehow you hadn’t believed all of this was happening until right now when you were faced with her ten feet away.
You’d been standing for too long without speaking, and you mustered up the words, trying to remember how to talk. “Ms. Dowling,” you finally croaked out in greeting, and such formalities felt strange on your tongue.
She blinked, once, twice, and you noticed that the gleam in her eye that you’d known so well was back, if softened from what you remembered. “My, ah,” she started, then cleared her throat. “My staff usually calls me Farah.”
You nodded. “Farah,” you repeated, and that too felt strange on your tongue. Maybe it’s just her name that’s strange, you thought to yourself and nearly giggled in hysteria, why did I think this was a good idea?
“I’ll let you two talk.”
You hadn’t noticed the man in the room, too overwhelmed by the realization that this endeavor to work for your ex was a ridiculous one, but when you finally looked at Saul Silva, you broke out into a grin.
“Saul,” you breathed, and laughed when your old friend wrapped you in a hug. “It’s been a long time.”
“Too long,” he agreed, and stepped back, clapping a hand on your shoulder. “I’ll catch up with you when you’re done here — meet me on the training grounds?”
“Sounds great,” you said, and as excited as you were to reunite with your friend, you couldn’t help as your gaze drifted inadvertently back to Farah. Noticing, he cleared his throat and gave you a smile that seemed to say good luck before reaching for his belongings.
The silence was painful as Saul gathered up his things, and finally Farah gave you a small smile. “How was your drive?”
“Fine,” you replied, sounding more curt than you’d meant, but it was either that or give in to the overwhelming emotion that was crawling up your throat. “But long. Do you mind if we keep this short? I’m a bit tired.”
Farah looked taken aback for a moment, fuck if you had to go fuck it up immediately, but then a mask settled over her features and she sat down in her chair. “Of course, I understand. Please, take a seat and we can get started.”
Her voice was pure professionalism, and you squashed the pang in your heart that bubbled up. Professionalism is exactly what we need, you told yourself as you sat. Any history we have shouldn’t interfere with our ability to work together. Can’t interfere if I’m going to make it out of this with my sanity. I need to be nothing more than a new hire.
Saul’s gaze flicked between you and Farah for a tense moment, but you steadily ignored it until you heard the door click closed behind him.
“As I mentioned when I sent it to you, you’re here on an interim contract,” Farah started without preamble. “As I am unsure of the exact levels of protection that Alfea needs, I hesitate to hire anyone permanently until the threats are better understood.”
You nodded; this was good, these were the details you could focus on. “I understand. I’m just glad I can help protect the students while I’m here.”
Farah looked at you for a long moment, then folded her hands on her blotter. “The school has changed since you were last here. Rosalind’s style of teaching hadn’t been seen for sixteen years, until she returned. I intend to make sure they’re never seen again.”
This was a test, you realized, you’d presented plenty of them to the recruits in the army to recognize it. “I was never a fan of her teaching,” you said evenly.
And held her gaze steadily as she seemed to gauge your sincerity. No magics involved that you could feel, but that didn’t mean her stare felt as though it pierced your soul, and you wondered (not for the first time) what exactly Rosalind had done to warrant such paranoia.
“Good,” Farah said finally, and then pulled an envelope out of a drawer. “Saul can give you the details about your responsibilities since you’ll be reporting directly to him. For now, there are a few administrative documents you need to sign and return to me at your earliest convenience.” She placed the envelope in front of you. “The keys to your suite are in there as well — I’ll have Aisha show you to yours when you’re ready.”
“I remember where they are,” you interrupted, picking up the envelope, and for a moment you saw surprise in her eyes, like she wasn’t the only one who was trying hard not to think about the nights spent together in those very same suites.
“Right,” she said, then busied herself with straightening the papers on her desk. “Then there’s nothing more I need to say for now, if you want to go and rest. Do you have any questions?”
You nearly said no, wanting just to leave and try to sort through all of the emotions still sitting in your throat (or maybe shove them in a locked box and never think about them again), but you still didn’t know what had happened with Rosalind, and Farah hadn’t offered up any answers, and you refused to be the only person on the campus who didn’t know what had happened.
“You said that anything I might have heard about Alfea in the past few months might not be true because the Queen kept things quiet.” You waited a beat, wondering if she would jump in. “What really happened?”
Her gaze shifted down to her hands, and her commanding presence seemed to shrink a little. “I made a mistake.”
She stood from her chair and walked to the windows that looked out over Alfea’s grounds. “The truth is long and complicated, as I said. If you’re tired, it may be better to have this discussion another time.”
“If I’m going to be protecting this school from the threats it’s recently received, then I need to know what exactly those threats are.” You held your ground with the same professional dispassion she had in her voice. When she didn’t turn from the windows, you thought you were going to have to argue with her for this, but finally she came back to her desk and sat, back ramrod straight as she spoke.
“Seventeen years ago, Rosalind had tracked a cell of Burned Ones to the village of Aster Dell. The last cell in existence, or so we thought. She told us that she had evacuated the people, and to destroy the Burned Ones, we needed to destroy the village.”
Dread settled in your stomach, nearly overpowering all the other emotions of your reunion as Farah spoke.
“So we did as told. When we discovered her lie, and discovered the people…” she trailed off, and for a moment you thought back to her picture in the newspaper you’d seen when Farah had first become Headmistress. The darkness you’d seen in her eyes suddenly made sense.
She walked you through everything that had happened since — finding Bloom in the First World, Beatrix’s infiltration of Alfea, Rosalind’s return and subsequent coup, and her attempt to murder Farah (your throat closed when Farah told you about Rosalind snapping her neck, but you tried not to think of that).
“That brings me to the now. I launched my attack four days ago and succeeded, but I don’t know how strong my hold is on this school. Though Rosalind is dead, I don’t know who she may have set up to take her place, or if Luna is going to be particularly receptive to my reinstatement, and that’s to speak nothing of the threats Rosalind thought were coming.”
“You believe this… Dragon Flame war is really coming?”
“I don’t know how sane Rosalind was, in the end,” Farah spoke slowly, each word measured and precise. “Seventeen years locked in unending sleep is a dark place to be. But Bloom holds more power than I’ve ever seen in a fairy. And if Rosalind was right about that…”
The silence between you was heavy, the threat of what may come settling over you like a dark cloud. “I can see why you wanted to hire extra help this semester.”
Farah’s lips curled into a smile before you even realized you’d made the joke, and for an instant you were blasted back to when you were twenty years old and would have kissed that smile off her lips just because you could.
And then that second of normalcy shattered, and reality came crashing down.
You stood abruptly from your chair, grabbing at the envelope as you avoided Farah’s gaze. “Thank you for telling me the truth. Knowing that greatly improves my ability to protect the school and prepare the students for what they may face.” The terse professionalism was back in your voice, but you couldn’t bring yourself to try and soften it into anything more friendly. Friendly isn’t what you needed, anyway.
“You hold a heavy weight with these children,” Farah said, her voice just as distant as yours. “We all do.”
You looked up and held her gaze for a moment, the gravity of her words sinking in. Then she looked down at the paperwork on her desk, picking up a pen in a clear dismissal. “Good luck with your classes, and don’t hesitate to make an appointment with me should you have any questions.”
Perfectly professional. “I will, Farah. Thank you again for this opportunity.”
And without another word from either of you, you turned and left her office.
You slowly made your way out of the school, lost in your own thoughts. This could work, you told yourself, nodding as though to convince yourself. Keep it professional, avoid any conversations of the past, and don’t crack jokes around her that make her smile and you think about kissing her. You kicked yourself for that last one, people smile all the time, that’s what they do, if you can’t handle one person smiling then maybe you shouldn’t be here.
No, I can handle this, you repeated to yourself over and over as you made your way to the faculty suites. Soon enough I’ll be busy training the kids and I’ll rarely have to see her. It’ll be just like any other professional relationship.
Well…
Probably.
~~~~~~~~~
You dropped your stuff off in your new suite and changed into athletic clothing before making your way to the training grounds to find Saul. Once again, you marveled at just how much the campus had changed since you were a student. It had reeked of war in Rosalind’s days, dark with the fear of death and the dangers that she’d warned of lurking around every corner. You hadn’t realized just how dark it had been until now, seeing it in all of its glory of light. The school was nearly alive with hope and safety and the boundless potential that seemed possible as you walked across the lawn.
And there’s the difference between Rosalind and Farah, you thought to yourself, finally admitting that the woman was just going to be ever-present in your thoughts today. In the face of danger, Farah still chooses to imbue her school with light.
“Over here!”
Saul’s voice pulled you from your thoughts, and you looked to see him waving at you from a mat on the training pitch. You waved back then jogged over to meet him.
“So, how’s it feel to be back?” he asked you without preamble the moment you stepped onto the mat, and you gave him a flat look.
“Hello Saul, nice to see you again too.”
He rolled his eyes at your teasing, then waved his hand in a go on motion, and so you tried to nod as confidently as possible.
“It’s fine,” you said, nodding again as though that would drive your point home. “Good, even. I’ve always loved Alfea, I’m proud I can help continue its legacy.”
He raised his eyebrows as though to say that’s not what I was talking about, but luckily he dropped it. “Stretch out, let’s see if you remember how to fight me.”
You tsked indignantly at his jest, bending over to touch your toes. “You this impatient with all your new hires?”
“Only the ones I like,” he teased back, and you sent him a coy look as you sat down to stretch out your back.
“Ready to get your ass kicked?” Saul ribbed when you’d both warmed up, and you snorted.
“I’ve been working for the Solarian Army for seventeen years, I don’t think I’m going to be the one getting my ass kicked.”
He raised an eyebrow at you. “Someone’s gotten cocky.”
You flashed him a grin as you took your stance, and waited for him to make the first move.
You bested him with a knee on his chest, grinning at him as he tapped out. “I guess you were right,” he grumbled playfully as you helped him up. “You’re in good shape.”
You raised an interested eyebrow at him, grabbing a hand towel from the side of the mat. “You’re not too bad yourself. But still not as good as me.”
He laughed and shook his head. “Reallycocky.”
You shrugged and passed him the bottle of water he pointed to. “I suppose you were just in a battle, I can’t judge you only on your performance today.”
“Yes,thank you,” he said, tossing the water bottle to the side again. “Let’s see you get beat up a little and then try to spar.”
You laughed a little, but the humor died quickly. “How bad was it? The fight, I mean.”
It was his turn to shrug. “Not bad. Not great, either. Farah had a lot of anger, and in the end I think that helped us win. Or really, helped her do what needed to be done.”
“I can see why she’d be angry. From what I heard about everything…”
You trailed off and Saul nodded, an understanding passing between you. Then raising an eyebrow, he nudged you with an elbow. “So, what’s it really like being back?”
“I said it was fine,” you said, hoping playing dumb would work, but he just gave you a flat look.
“Sure, as a professor it’s fine. I meant being back as…”
“The woman who broke Farah Dowling’s heart?” you finished helpfully.
“I was going to say the one who got away, but yours works too.”
You let out a little chuckle, staring out over the training grounds to avoid Saul’s gaze. “It’s… hard to describe. Everything ended so abruptly, we never really had closure. So sometimes I look at her and I can tell it’s been seventeen years since we last saw each other, and other times it’s almost like we were engaged yesterday. She’s both the person I know best in the world and a complete stranger.” You laughed a little and shook your head. “Doesn’t really make sense, does it?”
“It does,” he said, and you were surprised by how relieved you felt. Glancing back at him, you gave him a grateful smile, bumping his arm with yours.
And then noticed the bruising on the side of his face, a sickly green color that was much older than the bruises he had from the recent battle.
Reaching out, you gently touched the bruising. “Where did this come from?”
Saul let out a sigh. “Prison’s a hard place,” he said, and a cold shard of dread sliced through your stomach.
“You mean…”
“The interrogation tactics they used weren’t exactly civil.”
“Saul,” you uttered out his name before you could stop yourself, your heart squeezing tight as you studied the bruising. “Oh, Saul, I can’t imagine.”
He gave you a small smile, nodding in understanding. “It’s not the first time I’ve been knocked around.”
“Yeah, but you deserved all of those,” you said in an attempt to tease, but you couldn’t tear your eyes away from the discoloring, couldn’t stop imagining what had happened to him. “This was just… cruelty.”
There was a long moment between you, and then the sound of someone clearing their throat came from behind you. Turning to look at who it was, you started at the sight of Farah, looking coolly between Saul and the hand you still had on his cheek.
“Farah,” you said, still trying to get used to the feel of her name in your mouth again, and you dropped your hand and turned to face her. “Is there something I can help you with?”
“I came to speak to Saul,” she said, only sparing you a glance before turning her attention completely to him. “With classes starting again soon, I wanted to confirm scheduling with you. Do you have time now?”
“Sure,” he said with a nod towards his belongings. “Just let me grab my stuff and I’ll be right up.”
She nodded stiffly before turning and making her way back to the school. “I know I’m not the favorite person right now,” you said as you watched her walk away, “but that was pretty chilly, right?”
“Very chilly,” Saul agreed. “But you weren’t exactly welcoming in her office earlier, though.”
You sighed, you had been aloof in her office, shutting down any attempts of personal connection while you’d flat out hugged Saul. “I suppose I was. This is going to be a fun semester for you, isn’t it?”
“What, because I’m working with my best friend and her ex-fiance? Nah, it’s gonna be great,” he said with a grin, which then softened into something sweet. “I really am glad you’re back, though.”
It was your turn to smile at him. “Me too. As confusing as all of that is,” you said with a glance in the direction Farah had gone, “I already like being back. I missed you.”
“I missed you, too,” he said, slapping your arm affectionately before gathering his things. “See you tomorrow? I still owe you an ass-kicking.”
“Yeah, like that’s gonna happen, old man,” you teased, and he gave you an incredulous look.
“You’re two years younger than me.”
“And don’t you forget it,” you replied, and he laughed, waving goodbye as he started towards the school.
Watching him go, your eyes drifted to the windows of Farah’s office, and you couldn’t help but wonder if she was sitting in there right now — maybe even standing at the window, looking back out at you.
You shook yourself out of that thought, pushed it far, far away. An interesting semester, indeed.
Your relationship blossomed after that night, becoming an easy thing that made you feel as though you’d known Farah all your life. She wasn’t just your girlfriend, but she was your best friend too, your partner in crime, and every time one of your suitemates came home crying over another lost relationship, you couldn’t help but feel thankful that you and Farah had been in sync from the start.
Saul, Ben and Andreas became your friends too, and soon you were one of their group, not just as Farah’s girlfriend, but as yourself. As you continued to outpace your peers, Rosalind moved you into third and fourth year groups, and you began to train with your friends too, sparring with Saul and Andreas, learning to work with fairies of different elements (though you could admit Farah was your favorite to work with), and combining the skills to take on the illusioned Burned Ones Rosalind challenged the students with.
Two years passed quickly under the grueling training you were put through, and then Farah’s last semester came, along with the brutal tests her and the other fourth years were put through to receive their designation as an Alfea graduate. She, Ben, Saul and Andreas all passed with flying colors, but at times, when you were cleaning yet another cut or wrapping her ribs yet again, you couldn’t help but wonder if there was a better way.
But nevertheless, Farah graduated, and though you’d encouraged her to do whatever she felt was the right thing for her future, you were more than relieved when she chose to become a soldier at Alfea under Rosalind’s command, moving her belongings across the campus to the barracks that sat there (though just a few stayed in your room, and more often than not when she wasn’t out on a mission, she slept in your bed rather than her own).
You completed your time at Alfea, needing to finish the academic side of the school, though your training mostly consisted of coaching your classmates in technique and form when you weren’t practicing with the soldiers in the barracks. Soon enough, your own fourth year tests came, and it was Farah’s turn to bandage you after every trial. You passed with some of the highest marks in Alfea’s history, something Farah rewarded you very handsomely for, but when a day couldn’t pass by without earning another bruise, scrap, or scar, you wondered again if there could be a better way.
Your graduation came, and it was your turn to move into the barracks, just as they’d begun to buzz with excitement. The war was far from over, as Rosalind liked to warn nearly every day, but Burned Ones were becoming harder to find, and even harder to hunt. They needed to be eradicated for the realm to know peace, but the ones that were left were becoming too dangerous for standard troops to hunt — and survive the endeavor. She needed a specialized team, an elite force that she would lead herself all over Solaria as they tracked the creatures, and she announced that within a few weeks she would be making her selection.
To no one’s surprise, Rosalind’s team consisted of Farah, Saul, Ben, Andreas — and you. Two pairs and an extra Specialist for support; an excellent ratio, you thought as you packed up your bag and set out on your first mission. It had been like nothing you’d ever experienced before — the fear, shock and adrenaline of the moments the five of you worked together to bring the creature down would be burned into your memory for the rest of your life, moments, you realized after the fact, where nothing was controlled and everything was on the line.
Still, when Rosalind called, you would go. The excursions would never last long, usually about three days, and there would be weeks in between each hunt as Rosalind tracked down the latest sightings and attacks. During that time, the five of you worked as instructors at Alfea, training the next generation of students as you waited for the next news from Rosalind.
Until one day, Rosalind’s summons didn’t include you.
She claimed that because Alfea was short on instructors, one of you needed to stay behind to continue the training, and as you were a good instructor and the Specialist without a partner, you were the best candidate. Besides, she reassured, this mission may not turn into a hunt, as the rumors she’d found might be unreliable, and the next hunt would come along before you knew it.
But when they returned, Farah told you how they’d tracked and killed two Burned Ones. And although you were included on the next mission, you weren’t included on the two after that.
You didn’t mind teaching — quite liked it, actually, but couldn’t help but take to heart your exclusion from the team, especially when it meant you had to say goodbye to Farah and send her off knowing first hand of the danger she faced, all the while you were safe at home and left to wonder if she was okay.
For years, the trend continued, and your presence on the team continued to wane, to the point that Rosalind began calling them My Four, a title that felt like yet another thorn in your side. Farah tried to argue for you to be included on the missions, but Rosalind wasn’t a woman to cross, and it seemed that every time the subject came up, Rosalind’s Four would be off on an excursion longer than the last, and it began to feel like a nasty game of tug of war with Farah as the prize, and Rosalind was determined to win.
Still, you managed to make good use of those years, despite your feelings of being left behind. Your students flourished underneath your instruction, even if you had to be hard on them at times, and you furthered Alfea’s reputation of being the finest school in the realm. But the best, the best use of all those years was the day you and Farah moved in together. You argued to Rosalind that with your increased teaching responsibilities, you were entitled to a faculty suite on campus instead of a mere bed in the barracks. To your surprise, she’d agreed without fuss, and the moment you’d stepped out of the war room you’d run to Farah, tackling her in a kiss as you breathlessly told her to pack up her things — you were moving in together.
The next three weeks had been spent unpacking, arranging, shopping, and reorganizing, but by the end of it, you had a cozy home that was yours. Everywhere you looked, you could see your combined presences, little touches of each other that melded into a cohesive, loving atmosphere, one that made your heart skip a beat every time you opened the door.
Even after months of living together, joy still fluttered in your chest every time you turned the key in the lock, knowing it was yourhome, and infinitely more precious than just a bed in a barrack. And even more than that, every time you opened the door and found Farah folding laundry or working at the kitchen table, the love that filled your soul could bring you to your knees.
She was sitting on the couch this time when you opened the door, a mirror in hand as she studied herself, and you felt your jaw drop a bit at the sight of her new hairstyle, something akin to a warrior’s braid, and so different from her normal braid that you nearly didn’t recognize her.
“Woah,” you said, having to take a moment to stare as you toed off your shoes. “New hair.”
Farah smiled at you, smoothing a hand over the braid that led into her ponytail. “Yes, I decided to try something different. What do you think?”
“I like it,” you said, pressing a kiss to her cheek as you sat down next to her. “It looks very military.”
She raised an interested eyebrow, dropping the mirror to turn towards you. “Military?”
“Yeah,” you drew a hand softly over her cheek, tracing the lines of her cheekbone and jaw. “It makes your face look more… defined. Sharper, stronger. Like a warrior.”
She raised the mirror again, tilting her head to study the sides. “That’s not a bad thing. Rosalind said the braid was a bit girlish, anyway, so sharper and stronger is what I want.”
You frowned a little, watching as Farah continued to study her hair in the mirror. “She said that to you?”
Farah opened her mouth and seemed to hesitate a moment, but then she shook her head, chuckling a little. “It sounds bad out of context, doesn’t it? She didn’t mean it like that, just that the long braid is a hazard — someone can grab it and I would be very much at their mercy. This,” she gestured again to her hair, “is safer that way.”
Your frown lingered, not entirely convinced that’s what happened between her and Rosalind. But Farah was one of the strongest people you knew, and never had you known her to take abuse quietly. Surely Rosalind couldn’t have meant anything that horrible, if Farah wasn’t angry or hurt about it.
Right?
And Farah liked her new hair — you could see that in her eyes the longer she looked in the mirror. Who were you to argue with that?
“Well, safer is certainly what I want,” you said, and you couldn’t help but press another kiss to her cheek before you rose and walked towards your bedroom. “I know you trained all day, but are you up for a spar? I’m wound up.”
You could hear the smirk in her tone, the way it practically dripped from her voice. “I think there’s other ways to help with that, but if you want to spar first.”
That made you snort, smiling as you pulled off your shirt to change it. “Spar first — whoever wins can be on top.”
~~~~~~~~~
“Don’t let your footwork get sloppy — if you can’t keep your feet on the mat then you certainly won’t keep them out in the field — again.”
You coached a pair of third years while they sparred, observing long enough to see the girl tighten up her form in response to your comment, before nodding in approval and moving on to the next group. You made your rounds, doling out praise and critiques as necessary, and a few minutes later you blew your whistle, signifying it was time to move on to the next drill.
You watched as your students shifted and prepared for the next exercise when a figure in the distance caught your eye. You squinted, peering through the light mist that hung in the air, and then felt your breath catch in your throat when you realized who it was.
Farah.
They were back, finally, it had been one of their longest missions yet, and though you knew you should finish up your training duties, you just couldn’t do it, Farah’s pull was too much to resist.
“Finish up your drills and then you can be done for the day,” you told them, eyes still locked on Farah. You took a step in her direction before thinking better of it and looking back at your students. “And do them well. If I hear any word of you slacking on them today I’ll have you out here until you can do all of them perfectly five times in a row.”
The threat seemed to be enough to motivate the kids, and satisfied, you started towards Farah. You’d barely made it ten feet away from the mats before you broke out into a run, grinning as Farah started towards you too.
You met in the middle in a tangle of limbs and laughs and kisses, pressed anywhere you could reach, not caring where they landed because the fact that you could touch her was good enough for the moment.
“You’re back, I can’t believe you’re back,” you said in a rush, pressing your nose into her hair because you missed the way it tickled you at night.
“We’re back,” she breathed out, and then she pulled you up into a sudden kiss, one that knocked the breath out of you as you let her taste, her warmth, her scent surround you.
“And we’re going to be back for a while,” she murmured against your lips, a phrase that made excitement zip through your stomach, and you pulled away to look her in the eyes.
“How long is a while?” you asked, and Farah grinned at you.
“At least six weeks, but maybe even to the end of the semester. We might take day, two-day trips here and there, but no long excursions. Rosalind wants to be back to teach and plan out our next moves.” She ended on a laugh as you threw your arms around her neck, and she wrapped her arms more securely around your back. “And to let us rest, I think. We’ve been gone so much.”
“So much,” you agreed, and then pulled back to study her face — they’d been nothing but soldiers on the ground for months, years even, and their safe arrival suddenly gave you room in your stomach to worry about what kind of toll that took. “Are you alright?”
Her smile faded to something more strained, and she leaned forward to rest her forehead on yours. “I will be. Now that we’re back, I will be.”
She felt somehow fragile in your arms, and in the moment it felt like you cradled her more than held her.
“Let’s go home,” you murmured in her ear, and you let out your breath in a sigh when she nodded.
Later, as the afternoon was turning to dusk, you lay curled in your bed, tangled in the sheets as you fondly watched Farah unpack her bag, moving around the room as she put everything in its place. It was rare now she was back long enough to warrant unpacking completely, and she’d been so excited to get started that she’d leapt out of bed the moment she could, smiling broadly as she stated she was going to bury her duffle in the backyard when she was done so she’d never have to see it again.
There were times you felt like you lost her underneath all the military — the rough, sharp, gritty edge of war she seemed to carry with her all the time, so different from the girl you’d met all those years ago. But times like these, watching her fuss with her possessions, and so engrossed in the details of them you knew the elegant roll of her shoulders wasn’t an act but was simply how she moved, you felt like you found her again.
When she pulled out the picture of the two of you that she carried — a candid Ben had managed to take a moment after you’d lept onto her back in a hug — you felt tears prick at your eyes, knowing she still carried it years later, even now that is was frayed around the edges and starting to fade.
And then thought about the fact that she had to carry a picture of you because you weren’t out there with her — despite still claiming your title of being one of the best Specialists to come through Alfea.
“You said you might be taking some short excursions during the semester,” you asked, trying to sound casual as you picked at the edge of the sheet. “Do you think I’ll be asked to come on those?”
She turned her head to look at you before looking back at the shirt she was folding. “I’m not sure, with the classes in session. I’d have to ask Rosalind.”
“So she can turn me down again?” you tried to keep the bitterness out of your voice but failed miserably, and Farah turned to face you fully.
“Rosalind has her reasons — we both know that.”
You sat up, indignancy pricking at your nerves. “You’re taking her side?”
“Sweetheart, you know that’s not what I meant,” she placated, but a fire had started low in your belly.
“So what did you mean?”
“I—I mean that Rosalind has a reason.” She sat down next to you, sighing. “Look, even I can’t figure out what it is — you’re right, I don’t know why you’re not being included anymore, you would be an asset out there, but I know she has a reason for everything she does.” She took your hand between hers, threading your fingers together. “I’ll ask her, okay? She’ll explain it to me, and if it’s not a good enough reason, then I’ll argue that you should be included.”
“Okay,” you murmured quietly, trying to tamp down the anger and fear crawling up your throat. Feeling suddenly silly, you wrapped your arms around Farah, burying your head into her shoulder. “I’m sorry I was snippy with you. I know none of this is your doing.”
She kissed your hair, then pulled you closer to her until you felt like you could melt together into one. “I know, it’s alright. I can’t imagine how frustrating it is in your position.”
Fear came creeping back, and you gripped Farah tighter. “I’m just… I’m just so fucking scared every time you leave. And I’d be scared no matter what, but if I got to leave with you, at least I would know that—that I could be there, that I could watch out for you and do everything in my power to keep you safe. But instead I’m here, and I trust Saul with my life and yours, but it’s different when I’m stuck here to wonder what’s happening and where you are and—”
“Shh,” she shushed gently, rubbing a hand up and down your back before you could ramble yourself into a panic. “I know, darling, I know.”
When you gripped her tighter, she did the same, and pressed kisses everywhere she could reach until your chest relaxed and you felt like you could breathe again.
“I’ll ask her tomorrow and get a straight answer,” she murmured. “Tonight, let’s just forget that she, this war, and the whole world exists.” She pressed her forehead to yours, closing her eyes. “Just us.”
“Just us,” you whispered back, and did your best to try.
~~~~~~~~~
The more you thought about it, the more you realized that it had been years since you had the guarantee of having Farah home for months. Rosalind often brought them back during each semester so that they all could teach, but it would often be interspersed with excursions out to track down nearby Burned Ones. Even when they didn’t leave for a few weeks or months, the looming knowledge that at any moment Rosalind might summon them out to hunt tended to sour the time, Farah constantly living half packed and ready to leave.
But now she was here, her duffle bag stowed away, and you relished in the luxury of routine. You were able to wake together, get ready together and kiss goodbye as you went off to teach your respective groups. Lunches were spent in a large group with you and her, Saul, Ben and Andreas, and then your nights could be spenttogether, no matter what you did. It was the kind of life you craved for the both of you, and nothing could spoil this time you had with her, not even Rosalind’s excuses of why you still couldn’t accompany them on future excursions.
“She says it’s because you don’t have a permanent partner, like I do with Saul or Ben has with Andreas,” Farah told you the day she asked Rosalind.
You scoffed as you scrubbed harder at the dish you were cleaning, handing it to Farah to dry when you’d rinsed it. “I’ve been on hunts before — I don’t think an extra sword out in the field is ever going to hinder you — it’s a bullshit excuse and you know it.”
“I do,” she agreed gently, setting the dry plate in the cupboard. “But when Rosalind makes up her mind…” she trailed off, the both of you knowing just how stubborn the woman could be.
“So, let’s find you a fairy to work with,” she said, shutting off the water and pulling your still soapy hands into hers. “We know you could come with us, but if Rosalind isn’t going to allow that, let’s play by her rules and still get what we want.” She wiped at your knuckles and pressed a kiss to them. “I know you’re friends with some of the fairies in the barracks. If there’s one that’s up to the challenge, start working with them, and soon enough Rosalind won’t have a reason to keep you here.”
You sighed, melting at Farah’s gentle touch. “I suppose you’re right.” You leaned into her and pressed a soft kiss to the corner of her mouth. “I’ll start asking.”
Farah smiled brightly at your agreement, but privately, you couldn’t help but think a partner still wasn’t going to change Rosalind’s mind.
A few days later, when Farah had fully settled back into your home, she told you about the hunt they’d returned from, and reassurances already on her tongue, she told you that this time, she’d been cut by a Burned One. Panic seized your throat at those words; though she’d had her fair share of bruises, this had been her first cut, and as miraculous as that was, you still made her show you where the cut had been, just so you could study the skin and make sure it was really healed.
She was a soldier, you her lover, and while you both knew the risks of war, you’d never come so close to actually facing them. Your heart had leapt to your throat when she told you how the infection had burned through her blood, how it had spread across her skin and her vision had changed, and though Saul had killed the creature only minutes later, she said it had felt like an eternity.
Through the bile that had settled in your throat and the ice that had clamped around your heart, you realized you wanted Farah forever — something you had known since your third year at Alfea, but in seeing that it could be taken away so quickly, you realized you wanted the world to know you were hers and she was yours.
You wanted to marry her.
You had an unspoken agreement that you would be married someday after the war. You hadn’t cared about when it would happen, knowing your relationship didn’t need to be ensured with a ring, but staring at that faint scar on her thigh, you wanted your own mark on her, in a way. You wanted everyone to see it, everyone to know she was loved, but most importantly, you wanted to know that, as bleak as it was, should Farah ever be cut again, she would have your ring to look at and know she needed to fight to come home.
It took you nearly the rest of the semester to plan it out; the normalcy of routine made it difficult to go to the city alone to pick out a ring, but you managed without arousing suspicion. Then came the challenge of deciding what you would say to her — that alone nearly dissuaded you from proposing, but the desire to see the ring on her finger kept you at it, and after weeks of writing, practicing, and rewriting, you finally had the words you felt would be worthy of the moment.
You debated if you should take her to a nice restaurant, something your lifestyles rarely allowed for, but decided against a more public display, knowing Farah would be more comfortable in an intimate setting. You thought about waiting for a clear night and taking her on a nighttime walk, then asking her to marry you underneath the moon and stars, but you could admit that you wanted the romance of candles and flowers and of an intimate, elegant dinner that ended with the best moment of your life. So finally, deciding that you’d waited long enough, you asked Farah to have a private dinner with you one night, and attempted to hide your excited nerves when she agreed.
You made her favorites, wanting every moment to be perfect, and spent the dinner laughing and talking until the rest of the world faded away and it felt like you were falling in love with her all over again.
When your plates were empty and the wine was buzzing pleasantly through your veins, you ran through your speech one last time before you gave Farah a bright smile. “Time for dessert.”
She made a pleased little sound as you rose and went to the kitchen. “Dessert, too? You spoil me, darling.”
You chuckled a little and picked up the decadent chocolate layered cake you’d made with a layer of raspberry in the middle, just how she liked it. “You deserve to be spoiled,” you told her, and meant it sincerely.
And taking a steadying breath, you pulled open a drawer and picked up the ring box you’d hidden in there earlier that night.
Tucking it into your pocket, you went back to the table and set the cake down in the center of the table, grinning at her look of delight. “Darling, I knew you outdid yourself, but this is truly spectacular.” She gave you an impish look as you sat down again. “Are you sure there’s not a special occasion I’m missing?”
You smiled at her, and steadied yourself again as you reached into your pocket. “Well, there might be…”
And opening up the ring box, you set it down in front of her, watching as her eyes went wide, her shoulders rising as she gasped in surprise at the sight of the glittering diamond ring inside. She stared at it for a second, then two, then her gaze popped up to you, mouth working as she tried to form words.
“There might be something, depending on what you say tonight,” you said, trying for humor in your voice to cover up your nerves.
Farah did laugh, her hands coming to her cheeks as she glanced at the ring and then back at you, her mouth spreading into a wide grin. “Are you asking me to ma—”
“Don’t ruin my moment!” you interrupted half in jest, making Farah burst out in laughter until you were both giggling until tears ran down your face.
You wiped at the tears on your cheeks, taking deep breaths to try and quiet the hilarity bubbling in your chest. “This is not how I saw my proposal going,” you said, making Farah laugh again.
“Well, then,” she said, stifling one last bit of laughter before her eyes met yours, and the magnitude of the situation sunk in for the both of you. “Tell me what it was going to be?”
For a moment, you just studied her — fine bones, soft eyes, every inch of her that you knew so well, all bared before you in this moment that would change the rest of your life, and so perfectly beautiful it felt like your heart would burst. Smiling gently at her, you took a slow breath, and began. “From the moment I first heard your laugh, I’ve been in love with you. And then, better than my wildest dreams, you became my best friend, my partner — the person I love most in this world. My life is brighter with you in it. There’s a comfort to my days knowing I get to come home to you, and that you’ll come home to me.”
You took another second to just revel in the moment — Farah, your love, and nothing else. “Without a doubt, you are the woman meant for me. Any day I spend side by side with you is a day I consider well spent, and I want to live the rest of my life that way, knowing that no matter what, come rain or shine, I will always have you, and you will always have me.
“Farah Amelia Dowling,” you said reverently, and she let out a watery chuckle of pure joy, “will you give me the honor of becoming my wife?”
She was nodding before you even finished your proposal, and when you had, she uttered out an emphatic, “Yes,” before she was out of her seat and nearly tumbling into your lap, clumsy in her desperate attempt to kiss you. You were both laughing when her lips finally met yours, but you managed to hold the kiss together, wrapping your arms tight around her, intending in that moment to never let her go.
When the kiss finally ended, she brushed her nose tenderly against yours, her eyes warm and bright with joy and tears, and only when she gently cupped your cheek did you realize you were crying too.
“Darling,” she said in a voice soft and sincere.
“My love,” you responded, and the way her face lit up could have brought you to your knees.
“Put it on, then,” she said suddenly with a teasing grin, making you laugh as you reached for the nearly forgotten ring box. Plucking out the ring, you grabbed her hand and pressed a kiss to her fingers before you slid the band on, noting proudly that it was a perfect fit. The diamond glittered in the candlelight, looking so stunning against her skin that you lost your breath, and the thought that that was your ring, your promise to her, your symbol of your love on her finger made you swell with pride and love and tenderness and a million of other things beating against your chest.
“I love you,” you said, unable to hold it in anymore.
“I love you, too,” she responded immediately, and the words made you melt, no matter how many times you had heard them.
“This weekend, let’s go to the city, find a jeweler,” she said suddenly, nearly squirming on your lap with excitement. “I want to get you a ring, too.”
You nodded earnestly, feeling like your cheeks would split from your grin. “Yes, I’d like that, I want a ring, I want a ring because we’re going to be—”
“—married,” Farah said the word the same time you did, making you both laugh as you wrapped your arms around her neck, pressing your forehead against her cheek and placing kisses wherever you could while she clung to you.
Married. Your wife. All of that was yours, your future with Farah, your love for her, forever and always.
As someone who grew up with the og Saturday cartoon I will say I’m not the biggest fan of the Netflix Winx show.
Bloom is not a likeable character in fact I’d hazard at comparing her to Denethor but that’s just me. Whatever. There’s some other stuff that could be potentially problematic, but I binged all of season one so it’s safe to say I like it - as a separate piece of work.
I WILL FUCKING SAY THOUGH. The best fucking scene is watching Farah, Saul, and Ben commiserating over some agave juice and war stories and acknowledging that these fucking teens think they’re so sneaky when these beautiful old fucks were in fact the ones that broke those rules first.
The thing that makes this worth it is the profs.
Please, Netflix, if you’re gonna give us anything more - give us more of that
