Work Text:
BAZ
Snow stares past me, at the trunk of the tree I'm resting my head against, her blue eyes barely hiding her nervousness and apprehension, her fingers tracing absent minded circles on the forest floor and her long, wild, bronze curls dancing in the wind murmuring through the woods.
“Are- are you even listening to yourself?” I ask, my eyes wide but my tone monotone and bored. Of course my heart is racing like a thousand charging horses but I can't show her that.
I can't show her how badly I want what she's suggesting. I can't show her how badly I want her.
“I am, Baz, I am.” She sighs, finally meeting my eyes, making my stomach do an involuntary flip. I hate the power Susan Snow has over me. I hate that I'm disgustingly soft for her smiles and the moles and freckles that adorn her skin the way constellations adorn the night sky. Yet, I can't help but fall in love with her more and more with every passing moment.
“You can't just run away!” I say, rolling my eyes. “You're a princess, you can't just abandon your people.”
“I'm not abandoning anyone.” She huffs and I raise a brow at her in disbelief which makes her sigh and raise her hands in defeat. “I mean I kind of am, but it's not like I'm leaving my people to fend for themselves. Percy will take over if I leave.”
“And then what? You'll just come and live in the woods with me?”
“Sure, why not?” She shrugs and then grins wickedly at me. “You and me, Baz. We'll rule the woods together.”
“Shut up, Snow. What'll happen if the Mage sends her men to find you?”
“They won't be able to find me, unless you allow them to.” She gives me a cool look. “I know you can hide your cottage.”
I mean I am a witch. The most powerful witch in all of Watford, I'm my father's daughter, of course I can do that. I'd even love to do that, keep Susan with me forever and let the world go fuck itself.
I can almost imagine us spending the rest of our lives together, prancing in the woods, laughing and sitting on rocks and dipping our feet in the cold water of the stream, dancing in the moonlight, ageing together, never having a single care in the world.
Snow might even fall in love with me.
I don't even know why I'm protesting her decision so much. (It's probably because I'm stupidly self destructive) I've adored her ever since the day I met her, when she'd got lost in my woods and found my cottage by mere luck. She'd asked me for a place to spend the night and some food for a horse. I did it, entranced by her beauty and her cheeky sense of humour as she warmed herself in front of the fire crackling in my hearth.
I don't know when one visit turned into a second one. Then the second into a third till she was knocking on my door almost daily. I don't know when we became close friends. I definitely have no clue when my silly little crush on her became so much more. I don't know when I fell deeply and irrevocably in love with her.
“Baz? Hello? Are you there?”
I startle out of my thoughts to find the subject of my daydreams waving her sword callused and freckled hand in front of my face. Sneering at her, I swat it away.
“I can hide you in the woods.” I say, picking up the conversation like I hadn't just zoned out. “But I can't understand why you're suddenly so keen to run away.”
Snow sighs, drawing her knees to her chest and setting her chin on top of them. One of her curls is falling in front of her eyes and I have a wild urge to tuck it behind her ear, and tenderly caress her cheek but I control myself. I'm truly repulsed by how soft she makes me.
“The Mage wants me to marry Auguste Wellbelove.”
I feel myself squint at Snow.
“I thought you liked him. Shouldn't you be happy?”
Snow laughs but there's no humour there. It sounds strange, half bitter and half sad.
“Auguste and I are friends, Baz.” She mumbles. “He's like my brother and he's just as unhappy with this arrangement. This marriage is being done just so the Mage can acquire more power because the Wellbeloves are very well respected.”
She sighs, like she's carrying the weight of the world on her shoulders, and stretches out her legs in front of her, her boots rustling the leaves. She pulls at the fabric of her white pants, the other hand toying with the dagger hanging on her waist belt. The silence is palpable and I'm holding my breath, like I'm waiting for something to happen.
“I want to marry someone who I love. I- I don't want to be tied down in an unhappy marriage.”
She turns her head to look at me, her plain blue eyes boring into my grey ones. My heart stutters under her steady gaze and I can feel the heat rise in my cheeks. A thousand secrets are exchanged, feelings are bought to the surface, the world stops moving and words are not even spoken.
“And do you,” I whisper, my words ringing loud in the quiet woods, my hand moving against my own will and clutching hers. “love someone?”
Snow squeezes my palm, her nails digging slightly into my flesh.
“I do.”
“Who?”
There's a moment's pause and yet it feels like centuries pass, like kingdoms rise and fall, like the woods wither in winters and flower again when spring tiptoes in countless times during that one moment.
“You.”