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I like to imagine that Scott still cared about her.
Even after everything, through all the frustration, through the shared pain, he still cared.
That when they severed he screamed and sobbed for days, longed for the second heart beating in time with his own, for the brush of skin against cloth that wasn’t there.
That maybe, after that, he looked at Cleo, his chosen soulmate, the one he had abandoned Pearl to be with, and all he felt was resentment.
Anger toward himself, toward Cleo, toward Pearl, toward the kingdom that didn’t let him live as a civilian with his soulmate, toward the world that had deemed them to be together and yet tore them apart in a hundred ways.
I imagine nothing was the same after that.
He looked. He never stopped looking.
He worried, when his own skin became marred with marks of chains and whips, he worried, not for himself, but for Pearl, for what danger she had been caught up in.
He tried to help, he asked her over and over, where are you? What’s going on? Are you ok? I can help you! Tell me where you are! but she never answered.
The marks disappeared.
They didn’t come back.
He never felt pain from her, unlike before when she’d constantly be getting into trouble, scrapes and bruises, the massively uncomfortable feeling of blood and flesh being splattered against her face making itself known far more then Scott would have liked, but he didn’t feel anything, aside from hunger.
That was the one sensation Scott could almost always count on. Hunger.
He stopped asking.
Why should he? Pearl was no longer getting hurt, she had probably escaped whatever imprisonment she’d found herself in, and she had never answered even when he had asked. So he stopped.
He told himself she was fine, she had escaped, she was back to doing whatever it was she had been doing, she was just being more careful now, and maybe food was a bit more scarce, but she was fine.
And even if she wasn’t? Well that was none of Scott’s business! As long as she kept from getting injured he didn’t care what she did! He had Cleo and that was all he needed! Let her be wild like everyone had always said she was…
But no matter how much he assured himself, no matter how much he told himself she was fine… he still noticed the marks.
It didn’t happen often, but sometimes, he’d feel it, a pull on his ankles and wrists, cold, hard, like metal, and on his face, something pushing, pinching into the skin ever so slightly.
He knew Pearl hadn’t escaped. No matter how she somehow stopped the pulling and beatings, he knew, he could feel it, she hadn’t escaped.
Somewhere his soulmate was locked away in a dungeon, chained down, starved, muzzled! And he couldn’t do a thing about it.
Scott cried himself to sleep a lot more then he let himself admit.
And now for an actual scene that I like to think happens at some point in the future:
Scott’s eyes widened as he saw her.
Her brown hair was longer now, then he remembered it being, she had grown it to mid back-
It had always only gone to her shoulders-
She was wearing a scarlet hood, it complemented her red eyes-
She had always worn blue, it made her red eyes pop-
She stood side by side with two men, one with large feathered wings and the other with a crossing scar on his face.
They looked like comrades.
She clutched his arm with her whole body, nearly toppling them both over, “Pearl! You’re gonna get my robe dirty!” She had laughed at his shouted complaint, her eyes closed in joy as she pulled him back and forth, he hadn’t wanted to show the smile that crept to his lips, so instead he rolled his eyes, pushing her off him.
They were smiling, laughing, she pushed the scarred man’s arm and the large white wolf at her side jumped on him, knocking him to the ground.
The avian man stumbled back as if he was the one knocked over, but a wide smile was on his face and he laughed as the grounded one was slobbered on by the wolf.
She laughed too, her eyes closing in joy-
Just like they always had as children-
Scott stumbled forward a step, his hand reaching out to nothing. He didn’t even notice as his guards voiced concerns, as Cleo, his wife, placed a hand gently on his shoulder, asking what was wrong.
He didn’t notice because she was there, she was right there! Pearl. Pearl his soulmate, the one he hadn’t seen in years, the one who had severed them, the one he had wished more times then he could count was alive, was ok, would come back and say ‘it was all a mistake, i should never have left, i should never have severed our bound’, the one he had sobbed over for weeks after she left, after he could no longer feel her heart beating with his own.
And she was right there.
Scott just about crumbled to his knees right at that moment, Cleo steadying him with a hand on his arm and back. “Scott? Scott what’s wrong? Are you feeling light headed? Do we need to go back to the castle?”
He barely heard her. He took a step forward, pushing through when she tried to hold him back with a hand on his shoulder.
He walked forward, almost desperately, his breathing picking up pace the closer he got-
thirty steps-
she was leaning over to pull the scarred man up- twenty steps-
she heaved him up and stumbled back a bit-
ten steps-
she turned in his direction, her eyes widening-
five steps and he stumbled to a stop, his breathing shaky. Their eyes were locked, Pearl’s face a mask of shock, Scott’s slack with a desperate hope he’d never felt before.
“Pearl?” His voice shook, he refused to break eye contact, as if afraid the second he looked away she would disappear forever. Again.
Her lips mouthed his name, not even a whisper, barely a breath, “Scott…?”
The two men looked between them, their eyes hard.
He took a step forward, reaching out to touch her-
to feel that she was alive, to feel the heartbeat that had been with him his whole life only to be stripped away before he could say a word-
but she stumbled back, her arms reaching out desperately to grasp something to stop her from falling.
The winged man grabbed her, holding onto her arm as if to anchor her, while the scarred man stepped forward, putting his arm out as a blockade, placing his body firmly in between them.
Scott’s expression turned to confusion, then anger. “Who are you? And why are you in between me and my-“ He had to bite his tongue before he said soulmate. This was a public area, Cleo was right behind him, he couldn’t just announce to the world that he had been lying about Cleo being his soulmate. “Friend?” He grit out the word like iron, hating the sound.
The scarred man raised an eyebrow, not moving aside from crossing his arms over his chest. “Friend huh? Well it doesn’t look like your friend is all that happy to see you.”
Scott grit his teeth, why did it matter what this person thought? He was the king! He could talk to whoever he wanted! And he would say as much! “Do you not know who it is you’re speaking to? I am the king, my word is law, I can speak to whomever I please.”
He almost snarled the words, but instead of the shocked expression and hurried apologies like he’d been expecting, the man simply frowned, looking unimpressed.
“And? I don’t think that gives you a right to be talking to someone who is very clearly not happy to see you.” He leaned in, talking in an almost whisper, though definitely loud enough for Scott to hear every word. “Especially someone who you abandoned for a fake soulmate.”
He nearly spat the words, the cold venomous tone leaving Scott to stumble back. He knew? How? No one was supposed to know!
He looked over the man’s shoulder, catching a glimpse of the winged man holding Pearl against his chest, rubbing her hair.
Oh, she had told them, she had told them everything.
Scott bit his lip, looking at the man. Clearly force wouldn’t work in this situation.
He leaned forward, practically begging as he whispered. “Please, just let me speak to her, she’s my soulmate, I just want to talk to her!”
No, he wanted to take her back with him, to his castle, where they could talk, and- and maybe fix things. Where he could apologize, where he could openly beg for her forgiveness, where he could know that she was safe at all times.
That’s what he wanted, but he didn’t say that, not to this man.
The man scoffed. “I thought Cleo was your soulmate?”
Scott winced. No. Cleo was his wife. But Pearl was his soulmate. She always had been.
He couldn’t help it as tears formed in his eyes. “Please, just let me see her, I’m begging you, please!” The man’s eyes softened. He looked at Scott with pity. The great king, degraded to a mere beggar.
He sighed, turning his head to look at the pair behind him. “Grian? Is she gonna be ok enough to talk? He seems genuine.”
Scott saw the avian frown, tucking his head down and saying something he couldn’t pick up, after a pause he saw Pearl’s hair bob up and down. A nod. Scott’s heart leaped.
Slowly the scarred man turned, letting him pass towards Pearl, though he never left the kings side.
She turned around, her face steeled. Scott gulped.
“Pearl?” He asked hesitantly. He tried not to crumble when he saw her flinch.
“Scott.” He could tell she tried to keep the shake out of her voice. She didn’t do a very good job.