Chapter Text
-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-
Thickly wrought iron chains linking his shackled wrists and ankles together hang loosely and drag heavily along the uneven floor, as he’s guided down the corridor and through the large, open doorway. Either side of him the two Solarian guards escorting him are forced to grip his arms tightly as he stumbles from the weight of his restraints. Around him quiet murmurs echo off of the vast chambers walls but his head remains bowed, too bone weary and laden down to even bother attempting to raise it. Once into position he is forced to his knees and the momentum of the action causes his weary body to sag towards the ground until a harsh whisper of magic tugs his chains upwards, keeping him both upright and stationery. Sharp cobbled edges of stone tear into the knees of his ragged combat pants, he’d been irked before for not having been offered any other clothes during his stay but now, none of that even matters. The disgusting smell of his own unwashed skin burns his nostrils, the hosing down with icey water he’d received sporadically not nearly enough to eliminate the dirty stench, or salvage his grimy clothing. His mind wanders to the shallow grooves in the wall of his cell, forged by his own hand and a loose stone to mark fourteen days of sheer hell. Prison is not for the faint hearted but for every exhausted breath he inhales, a hollow void in his chest causes twice as much pain, the place where his fairies bond used to be now nothing more than an empty dark hole.
Time drags on as for several long moments the chatter continues, but his eyes don’t stray from their fixation on a spot just before him, not even when a raised voice commands silence over the room.
“Saul Silva, you are brought before us today charged with the attempted murder of Andreas of Eraklyon. How do you plead?” Lunas voice is vacant of emotion, her regal persona fully in place as she addresses him. She was his friend once, long ago and though she’d perhaps never truly been an ally, he’d always expected her to be fair.
He should fight, Farah would undoubtedly want him too but he no longer has the energy or the will, the tortuous thought of living in a world without her is too inconceivable. “Guilty.” The word tastes bitter on his dry tongue, but it’s the truth. Regardless of the circumstances and the consequences of Andreas’s own actions he is without a doubt guilty of the accusation.
At her silence he draws in a ragged breath and finally raises his head to meet the piercing blue eyes belonging to the Queen of Solaria. Seated on her throne at the far end of the room she’s flanked either side by a dozen chairs, the left side he suspects is her council dressed in their court apparel and the right seemingly holding spectators, only a few of which he recognises. The nameless guards stand to attention at his sides, hovering readily in case he should he decide to attempt an escape but it is truly the last thing on his mind. Watching her carefully he doesn't miss the fleeting expression of pity or perhaps shame that crosses her face but it is gone as quickly as it arrived.
“Then it is with a heavy heart that I condemn you Saul Silva to death, here and now by sword.” He bows his head once more, fisting his hands as someone nearby gasps. It’s not a surprise, his crime should be punished in such a way but perhaps he’s been harbouring a little more hope than originally thought. It’s better than life imprisonment anyway, the silence and solitude already affecting his fraying sanity.
Closing his eyes he waits, sensing for the moment that the guard beside him unsheathes his sword and moves to stand at his back. Would he have done differently? If this were to be the outcome would he have spared his former best friends life or perhaps ensured he’d actually ended it? Behind him the chambers main doors suddenly blow open with such force that the heavy oak frame rattles as a deep commanding voice bellows out across the room. “Stay the execution!”
Unable to turn he snaps his gaze back up instead towards the flustered Queen who jumps up from her seat, her expression tightly pinched as she hisses at the interruption. “Roderick, what is the meaning of this?!” The name of his potential saviour is familiar but even as he wills his tired mind desperately to recall it, it slips through his grasp.
“Stay the execution! There are urgent matters to be discussed and evidence to bring to light. As of this moment Saul Silva is under my protection and any move against him will be seen as an act of war.” Shouts break out amongst the council, a vast contrast to the whispers from before as objections are spluttered here and there. Luna ignores them all, her narrowed gaze remaining on the man he cannot see.
“How dare you?” Her flushed face matches that of her pink court dress as she takes a step forward, her regal crown worn only for such an important occasion, slipping slightly on her head.
Heavy footsteps echo throughout the room, bouncing off of the walls that are weathered with age and her eyes widen almost comically. His saviour apparently hasn’t come alone. “You are about to murder a man who is guilty of nothing more than self defence.”
“This man belongs to Solaria, it should be no concern of yours.”
“Perhaps, but I suppose I don’t need to remind you of his relationship to my own court? Now we can discuss these matters privately or before your council if you’d prefer but I see no reason to continue this ridiculous debacle.” For a moment he's uncertain whether he should even be thankful for a second chance at life, the temptation to join the woman he loves in sweet oblivion slipping through his fingers with every word from their lips but the more he thinks on it the more certain he is that Farah would want this, would want him to live even when she is no longer able.
Rosalind and Andreas had been nothing short of gleeful when they visited him to break the news of his fairies death to him, and the urge to reach through the bars of his dingy prison cell to sever his former captains head from her body, had been almost too much to take. It's all to easy to recall the wicked smirk on the vile woman's face as she bragged about it and he's honestly surprised that neither of them appear to be present to witness his sentencing.
“Release him Luna.” He watches as she chews her lip thoughtfully before nodding her acceptance and as the guards beside him reach to free him from his shackles he watches as she silently dismisses everyone but her council. Clearly eager not to be caught in whatever this mess is the witnesses don't hesitate to disperse and only then does she sink back into her chair. The locks securing his shackles snap open and he rubs his raw wrists eagerly, wincing at the dried blood on his skin and the sharp pain that shoots up the length of his arms. There’s a rustle nearby and a heavy clatter beside him as he turns to meet the warm but concerned gaze of the elder man crouched on his left. “You alright Silva?”
Holy shit.
The identity of his not so mysterious saviour slams into him and his breath leaves his lungs with a fierce whoosh as he nods, the man’s hand resting briefly on his shoulder. Though it’s been more than a decade since he last laid eyes on the man in question he appears not to have changed a bit. Hair as white as snow is held back from his face in a low tail at the back of his neck, and the wrinkles on his face and around his green eyes don't distract from the soft looking beard that frames his thin mouth and trails down to his collarbone.
A tell tale and all too familiar magical touch brushes gently against his mind, a simple caress that speaks of great power but there’s no invasion into his thoughts, the gesture nothing more than friendly. “Thank you.” He rasps and is surprised to find that he actually means it.
The man smiles warmly before clambering to his feet, shrugging off the aid that attempts to assist him.
“What is it you think is so pertinent to discuss Roderick?” Lunas nails tap impatiently on the arm of her wooden chair, the bored expression on her face a clear facade. The powerful male fairy nods to someone behind him and then gentle but firm hands help raise Saul to his feet, before leading him over to the abandoned set of chairs as the Queen tracks their movement with a frown. He drops heavily into one, stretching his legs out in front of him as he watches the two royals face off.
“I’ve been hearing some frankly disturbing rumours circulating, regarding the treatment of the students at our school.” Luna openly blanches, her gaze flickering quickly to the council leaders before settling back on the man in the centre of the room. At almost eighty years of age Roderick stands unaided and strong, his posture seemingly perfect beneath the weight of the armour he wears. The blue and silver emblem representing his kingdom decorates the breast plate and a thick cloak in matching colours hangs from his shoulders. “Extreme disciplinary measures, torturous training sessions and missing people.” The king counts them off on his fingers, his brow pinched tightly.
Saul flinches at the news though it is unsurprising, Rosalind has always been vicious in her demented ideals of teaching.
“I’ve heard no such things.”
Roderick smiles, his teeth glinting in the glow of the lit sconces along the walls. “I’m aware of that too, according to my sources students are afraid to approach you on the matter as they believe you aren’t only aware but are supportive of the new methods.” The queen of Solaria pales, the blood draining from her face.
“Need I remind you that my daughter is enrolled there, I would never allow her to come to harm.”
“While I’m glad to hear that your majesty it leads me to one of two conclusions. Despite her wicked past you knowingly allowed Rosalind to take control of the school and gave her free reign. Now, either you’ve grown foolishly negligent to the laws of humanity since I saw you last or you are remaining blissfully ignorant because she holds something over you. Perhaps the threat of Stella’s well-being?” The man’s armour chinks as he steps forward, his cloak billowing around his feet as he raises a single hand to still his small group of soldiers behind him; levelling her with a hard stare. “Which is it?”
“Perhaps this is a discussion best conducted in private after all.” She nods towards the advisors and they too begin to leave even as Roderick barks out an empty laugh.
“And that is answer enough is it not?”
Luna bristles, watching as the door finally swings shut with a heavy thunk. “I assure you that whether you find my decisions questionable or not, I was truly unaware of the situation. I will be personally investigating these matters immediately.” Oddly enough he believes her, despite Rosalind’s likely threats against her it’s clear she is truly appalled by the reports.
“We will investigate. The school may be under your jurisdiction Luna but it is still half mine. Which of course brings me to the most pressing matter.” The queen squirms in her chair, casting her gaze fleetingly to him as if to check he’s still present. Crossing his legs he waits, a sickening feeling in his gut. “Where is my daughter?”
“Farah has taken a leave of absence. A sabbatical I was told.”
The king erupts, fury pouring from him as he takes yet another step forward. “Lies! I suppose Rosalind told you to say exactly that didn’t she? But I can tell you with utmost confidence that it would be a cold day in hell before Faragonda willing handed her position over to that abomination!”
“I assure you I have no idea where Farah is.”
“Perhaps not, but my concern is that you seem to not care to find her. The kingdom of Saladin has dutifully kept to the terms of its treaty with you over the years, provided aid and helped where we’ve been able but let me make this very clear. If that woman has harmed my daughter in any way and is not punished for it, you can consider our alliance dead and buried.”
“You can’t-“ The nausea swirling in his stomach reaches a crescendo, sending acidic bile up his throat and into his mouth as the words settle in his mind. He’s going to have to tell Farahs father what he knows, and speaking the words out loud seems impossible.
“I can! If Stella went missing under my care would you not threaten the same?” The Queen deflates, sinking into her chair. “Your parents were good friends to not only my kingdom but to me and I agreed to keep the alliance when you took on the throne because I believed you to be as nobel as them. If that is not the case-“
“Farah and I may have had our differences as of late but I would never condone an act of violence against her, never. If what you say is true then it’s clear we urgently need to locate her and if Rosalind is guilty of any crime she will have to be dealt with.”
“And yet for all your talk you would today have put my daughters soul mate to death.” This time Lunas fury reddens her cheeks, her chest heaving from their heated argument.
“I had no choice!”
Roderick stiffens, his eyes narrowing to slits and darkening to a grey slate. “You know full well what happened at Aster Dell that day.” The mention of that horrific day sets his blood pounding, sweat beading across his filthy forehead. How naive they’d been to so dutifully and blindly follow Rosalind but no one had taken it harder than Farah. Her compassion for the lives taken and her role in their deaths something that still torments her.
She stands, her anger pushing her to her feet as she shifts on her heels. “I had their verbal recounts yes but with Andreas very much alive and pressing charges you should know yourself that my hands were tied without any physical evidence.”
Despite the kings clear frustration with the other royal he nods firmly once, his arm raising to crook a finger over his shoulder and a soldier steps forward with a thick manila envelope. “I have your evidence.” The short downy haired man bows respectfully once and approaches the queen, handing off the envelope before return to his position behind his King. Saul watches with rapt attention as she tears it open and drops gracefully back onto her throne, her face paling as she studies the pages before a small smile graces her lips.
“Where did you get all of this?” Farahs father smirks, tipping his head thoughtfully.
“I think that is a discussion best left for tomorrow when you've had time to properly review the information. It was a long journey and my convoy and I could do with some rest, as I imagine Silva likely could too.” His eyes flicker to him but he looks away back to Luna who looks strangely relieved and she smiles at him, nodding once. Her fingers disappear down the outside of her throne where he suspects there must be some kind of call button, for the doors open once more and her head guard steps quickly inside.
“Arnold, show our guests to their quarters and see that Silva is provided with what he needs and is checked over by a medic.” The man nods and gestures towards the exit and he stands, swaying on the spot until Roderick appears beside him, wrapping a supportive arm around his shoulders. His eyes find his face and he can’t help the appreciative thank-you that whispers from his lips as they're led from the room.
-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-