Chapter Text
Marianne had never liked being stared at. So, it was just her luck to be born a princess, where one was often stared at en masse, and expected to be regal and serene under each and every last scrutiny. The only person whose staring she usually enjoyed was Bog’s, because his eyes were always full of some combination of awe, adoration, and her favorite, lust.
But that was not the case now. In this horrible moment, his expression held no awe, adoration, or lust. Instead, the look he was giving her was similar to the one from two years ago; when he thought she was playing him for a fool while her army snuck up on his castle without its king present. Except, this time, there was no anger blazing away in those orbs of blue-fire. Now, they were guarded and stony, like two ancient ice glaciers, holding only the distrust, and the sadness; and it was so much worse.
It was heartbreaking.
She had prayed she would never see that look on his face ever again.
The last, and only, time she’d seen it this exact way before, was while they were waiting for Dawn to be fetched from the dungeon. Bog had stepped back away from her when she’d refused to give a verbal answer to the ‘Is that the guy?’ question. The slimy, pompous guy in question was still making those stupid cockroach noises, and she wanted nothing more than to beat the tar out of him with her bare hands, if it weren’t for the goblin guards restraining her arms. Instead, all she could do was look to Bog, but her body had frozen at what she saw.
He was staring at her with no more emotion than a granite statue. The dazzling light she’d seen in his eyes during their spar, and their flight through his stunning kingdom under the moon, was gone. His gaze was empty, forlorn…
…dead.
Feeling a shot of anxiety at the sight, she’d tried to say something, anything, and had even instinctually moved towards him, but the goblins held her back with duplicate growls, and Bog turned from her at the same time, striding down the dais steps to meet Dawn when she appeared. She’d been at a loss for words until her sister arrived. To this day, she couldn’t even really remember what she’d said, but when his harsh, doubting expression melted into a sorrowful gleam of surprise and hope, she’d renewed her struggles against her captors.
That was the moment she realized that, without meaning to, she’d found him, and she’d be damned if she let him go.
His near brush with death only minutes later, had destroyed her. Of course, she was happy and thankful that Dawn was no longer under the influence of that awful potion, and had finally realized her feelings for Sunny; but, to this day, she had no idea what she’d said to her or what her hug had felt like. What stood out in her sensory memory, was the scorching burn of tears in her eyes and down her cheeks.
Other than that, she was completely numb. It was like her own soul had fled from her body, leaving behind nothing but a walking, talking bag of flesh. There was just…nothing.
Until a wounded, but very much alive Bog, flew up from the wreckage and over her head. The joy and life bubbled up from her stomach and exploded in her chest like a volcano.
Now, she was back to square one, only this time, there was no cheating ex to blame. Only herself. She felt nauseous and naked (and definitely not the good kind of naked she normally felt around Bog sometimes).
Oh God, she couldn’t stand this another minute. She wanted-needed-nothing more than to banish the shadows from his face. And to do that, she had to talk to him. She still wasn’t sure exactly how she was going to begin, but as more seconds ticked by, she knew it didn’t matter. The important thing was to start, and the rest would follow.
Just do it and get it over with. Like ripping off a sap bandage. Open your mouth and make words.
Clenching her fists, taking a deep breath and squaring her shoulders, like she used to do before giving an oral report during her childhood school lessons, she finally spoke.
“Okay,” her voice was shaky, but determined, “Bog, I……I’m sorry. I didn’t… I didn’t think it was that serious. Honestly, I thought I’d be back on my feet in just a couple of days, but……I know that…really doesn’t matter, at this point. I shouldn’t have kept it from you, and I shouldn’t have gotten Dawn involved. I never meant for this to happen. I’m really sorry.”
Bog didn’t say anything for a long while and Marianne was dismayed to see the darkness in his eyes remain steadfast. She was so unhappily focused on that fact, she almost missed his short, quiet question.
“Why?”
“…What?”
“Why did ye do this?” His tone was the perfect auditory representation of his stormy, cynical eyes. “I dorn’t care about how, but I deserve to know why.”
Marianne bit her cheek and forced herself not to fidget. Logically, she knew he would likely ask her that eventually, but heaven help her if it wasn’t the hardest thing to explain without sounding callous or cruel, despite her intentions. She’d hoped she would have some more time during their exchange to formulate a better answer. No such luck; the time was now.
“I…” her gulp turned into a loud cough to clear the lump in her throat, “I just didn’t wanna…w-worry you.”
She winced at the stupidity of her reason after all that had happened. All Bog had done was worry!
“Why not?” He flatly demanded. “Dorn’t I have a right to know?”
Damn. After how dumb her last explanation sounded, she really didn’t want to answer that and top herself, but she had no choice. She had put him through hell.
“Of course you do, Bog! I was……I was just afraid that…you’d…f-freak out and…then you’d come over here and......fuss over me when it…seemed like it was nothing but a simple cold.”
Bog continued to glare at her.
“That’s it?”
She swallowed again at the new, slight edge in his voice and gave a heavy sigh before nodding pathetically.
“How do ye know I would’ve reacted that way? I’m a full-grown adult, Marianne. Do ye really not think I can control myself?”
Regardless of Bog’s still low, dry tone, the relentless staring was finally beginning to make her nerves itch, and when Marianne got uncomfortable, she got defensive.
“No, Bog.” She frowned and made the grave mistake of averting her gaze, so she failed to see the growing flare of anger in Bog’s eyes. “But I have seen you get upset over arbitrary scratches and bruises I get when we spar or explore the Dark Forest, so I…I didn’t know what to expect. You know I can take care of myself; I was just trying to……to avoid a scene, I guess. I-I don’t know! I wasn’t thinking! I said I was sorry! You have no idea how much! That’s why I wanna know about these!”
She clutched the pile of letters in her hand. The crumpled edges flared out like some sort of grotesque flower. Her glower was aimed straight at it, as if willing it to burst into flames.
“Bog, how could you think that I’d want to ‘terminate our courtship’? A few weeks of silence and you automatically think that I don’t love you anymore? Why on earth would you-?”
“WELL IF YE CAN TAKE SUCH GOOD CARE OF YERSELF, WHAT ELSE WAS I SUPPOSED TO THINK?!”
He hadn’t meant to yell, she knew that, but when he saw the spark of fear in her eyes as she flinched and the letters drifted to the floor, Bog turned, and with a deafening roar of self-hatred, slammed his fist into the wall, hard.
Marianne almost cried out in alarm, terrified that he might’ve broken his hand, but it amazingly came away from the newly cracked stone without any misshapen fingers or blood visible. Sometimes, it still shocked her how incredibly strong he was.
As the last echoes of his punch faded away, the drowning silence returned full force.
She couldn’t see his face, but the drooped wings and bare quiver in his shoulders, spoke volumes as to his anguish. Like a dying leaf, the clawed hand that had so rigidly gripped his staff loosened and sank off the metal, leaving it propped against the wall. When he at last, turned back towards her, she gasped at the tearful hurt in his eyes. His stare stayed rooted to some nondescript spot on the floor.
“The thought that ye might be…sick or injured…” he said with slow hesitation, like a repentant child, “…never once crossed my mind…because I know that. I know ye can take care of yerself, and that ye do; all the time. I never expected somethin’ like this to happen to you. So, I had nothin’ left…but my doubt. I’ve spent so long seein’ myself as nothin’ but a hideous beast…incapable of bein’ truly loved by anyone. Yer the first person that’s ever claimed to love me as a mate…and when ye wouldn’t answer……I thought……ye’d left me.”
After what seemed like an eternity, he dragged his gaze up to meet hers, and all at once, there was nothing else in her world but him. He went on as if under torture:
“Then I learned…what was really happenin’……and that ye’d deliberately kept it from me. It…tore me apart…….and it still is…because ye only did it to keep me from possibly overreactin’. But……deep down, barrin’ my own fuckin’ insecurities…I know I never had any reason whatsoever to think…ye wouldn’t want me anymore……until I found out about all this.”
Something transformed in his eyes; something indescribable, but it made Marianne feel as if a red hot blade pierced her gut and a rising, phantom shriek rang in her ears.
“You……” Bog’s trembling voice was weak and miserable, a mere breath away from a sob, “ye just can’t…do that to me. Ye can’t…treat me that way, Marianne…….ever.”
Marianne’s head spun with the…surrealism of this moment. In this very room, when she was nothing more than a rambunctious, young sprout, he was the living embodiment of all her nightmares and ghost stories. The ruler of monsters that would hide in her wardrobe, or under her bed, waiting to snatch her away and gobble her up if she didn’t listen to her parents and behave herself, like a good little girl. There was a time, long ago, where in her mind, he, and everything associated with him, was pure fear and evil.
…and now there he was…
The love of her life here and after, standing before her in all his dark, spikey glory. This strange, utterly beautiful and kind creature of the night that loved her like no other, with his bleeding heart open wide, and his eyes so wounded and vulnerable. All because of her.
Then it hit her like a wasp sting.
She’d treated him the same way Roland had treated her.
Even if the reason for deception wasn’t the same, a lie by omission was still a lie at the core, and she couldn’t count how many times Roland had made excuses like:
Sorry I’m late, darlin’. Just got tied up with a few things.
Had somethin’ to take care of; nothin’ you need to worry your pretty head about!
I was just busy, Buttercup. It ain’t easy bein’ Captain of the Guard!
Marianne almost fell off her vanity stool at the realization and assaulting recollections. She could scarcely draw breath as a wave of burning tears filled her eyes, and acute nausea churned her insides. The overwhelming guilt was like an incubus laying its full, crouching weight upon her shoulders and reaching in through her back with its demonic hand to crush the air from her lungs.
She had shown such blatant disrespect to man she loved, how could he ever forgive her?
Perhaps that was the crowning moment of her selfishness, but the panic that spiked within her at the thought, forced her to stand on wobbly legs and timidly approach Bog as if he were a spirit that might vanish in less than a blink.
But he did not leave her. Though his woeful expression remained in place, he opened his arms to her and she immediately threw herself into his chest, clutching at him and weeping her dreadful remorse and shame.
“I’m sorry, Bog! Oh God, I’m so sorry! I love you so much! It’s all my fault! I never meant to do this to you! I’m sorry! Please, forgive me, Bog!”
“Marianne-”
“I swear, I’ll never keep anything like this from you ever again! If I get so much as a paper cut, you’ll be the first person I tell!”
“Marianne-”
“I promise! Bog, I love you! I’m so, so sorry! I didn’t-!”
“Shh, shh-shh…” Bog hushed, wrapping his arms even tighter around her waist, “that’s enough, Tough Girl. Please, just calm down.”
The princess chewed her lip to keep her mouth shut, but she couldn’t help the sniffling. As Bog held her and absentmindedly stroked the base of her wings, she wondered if she was the one shivering or if it was him. Or were they both doing it?
“I forgive ye, luv.” He said after what felt like ages, tucking her head under his chin. “I’ll always forgive ye. I love ye.……and I’m sorry, too. I should’ve had more faith in yer feelin's fer me, and not been so quick to assume the worst. Ye dorn’t need to tell me about every single paper cut.”
She melted at his soft chuckle.
“We’d spend the whole day countin’ every wee nick after only sparrin’ fer an hour. We’d never get anythin’ done. I just…want ye to let me know what’s goin’ on, and be honest with me. That’s all.”
“I will, Bog.” She nodded, unable to contain her smile of profound relief. “I will.”
“And if I do overreact, then just punch me again, okay?”
“Thanks, but after all this, I think I’d rather kiss you instead.” She giggled. “And I want you to really practice seeing yourself the way I see you, because I can assure you, you’re never gonna lose me.”
He tilted her chin up to meet his tender, limpid eyes. His thumb gently caressed the blossom shape of her blush and she momentarily forgot how to breathe.
“Good to know.”
Then their lips met in a yearning and exultant kiss that carried more healing than medicine could ever hope to offer, and Marianne knew, from the depths of her being, that though they weren’t perfect, and more mistakes would likely be made in the future, both of them would fight tooth and nail to overcome whatever problems formed, so they could stay happy and healthy, side by side.