Chapter Text
No one expected their reunion to be ebullient. Screams of joy and blissful tears were a long lost memory between these two. Instead, the comfortable silence harboured meaningful glances and years of unspoken certainty.
« Why did you tell them you didn’t survive Rosalind’s curse ? » It was Saul who broke the stillness of the room first. And though his words could be read as reproachful, his voice was imprinted with a gut wrenching sadness.
The Fairy’s eye drooped and her pupils couldn’t quite meet his as she answered. « Because I didn’t, Saul. » Her fingers traced the ghost of her last words on her lips, finding healing in physical touch. But despite how heartbroken she visibly was, she also breathed acceptance. Silva, on the other hand, wouldn’t even meet her halfway.
« Don’t lie to me, Fa. You’re not… dead. » His unconfident murmur tasted like poison and betrayal in his mouth. « I can feel it ». One hand on the heart, the other materialised the space between them. For the first time in months, he was able to verbalise the reason of his uneasiness. Contrary to what he was told or made believe, there was one thing that meant Farah couldn’t be gone. One thing that no one else could see, or feel. One thing that no one could take away from him. The bond. The invisible connection between a fae and her specialist, between him and his fairy. And it never vanished.
« It doesn’t matter. I’m too far gone now. » Dowling was trying to keep her calm and be the voice of reason for the both of them, but it was obvious she was starting to become agitated. « If you can feel me, then you must know I’m withering away. » And it was true. The bond was there, but barely. And it was flickering more and more with each passing day, becoming overtime she shadow of what it used to be. Saul had even started to question it, wondering if he was imagining everything, if wishful thinking was getting to him or if it was phantom pain, bittersweetly tortured by a severed part of himself. But now that he was proven right, he wasn’t about give up.
Crossing the few steps splitting them apart, Silva took Farah’s hand in his before telling her, invoking every last bit of persuasion he could muster : « But you’re still here. And if you’re still here, it means you’re not there, not yet. There’s a glimmer of hope I can’t let go of. »
She wasn’t angry, not anymore or not yet perhaps, but she was hurt and oh so exhausted. Without dropping his grasp, she asked, pulling back the ocean in her gaze. « Do you think I want this ? Do you really think, after all the students have been through, after all that we’ve been through… All I’ve given the school and everything it gave be back, and more… That I would choose to surrender ? » The rarest of sights, a single tear, rolled down her cheek. « But I just don’t have this fight in me… Hell, I don’t even have anything to fight with ! »
Her body was six feet under, every last bit of her magic suspended in mid-air to create the illusion of her self and therefore stretched too thin to be usable for anything else, she merely was the shell of what was once one of the most talented fairies alive. But her specialist saw it in a different light.
« Then look at what you need to fight for. And look at those who will take it on for you. » Holding her chin up to make her face him, he beamed of strength and determination.
« Look at me, Fa. We can do anything. »
Strong arms embraced her, holding her tight until she finally caved in and allowed herself to relax against his chest. There, weeks vanished, anguish faded out and the yearning for a life she was so close to losing started to shine meekly but bright. And although they both felt whole for the first time in way too long, their hug was hollow, desperately missing the blood pumping beneath her skin and her heartbeat racing his. The illusion could hold incredibly well the test of sight, but hardly fooled well-rehearsed touches.
« I wouldn’t even know where to start. » Following her admission, Saul drew a smile that could barely hold his relief.
« Help. We gather all the help we can get. »
Oh the irony. A natural at everything, from most kinds of magic to Otherworld history and politics, Farah had always struggled with the idea of delegating. On relying on others. It took her specialist years to even come close to gaining enough of her trust for them to build a working relationship. And it took a lifetime supply of trauma for her to fully allow him - and Ben - in. It worked, no one could argue otherwise, not even her. She would even go as far as to admit that it was pleasant. But opening up more, especially in such a vulnerable state, was dizzying. They could fail. They could all fail. They would all fail. And she would be in no position to take on the burden of the blame this time.
Now, the only way forward was down an unraveled path, lead by blind scouts with soaring hearts.