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"Thank you for trusting me. Thank you for saving me.”
“I am never listening to you again!"
Fearne kicked Ashton straight in the face. And with that, she turned on her hooved heels and walked away.
In an earlier time - earlier that same day, even - Fearne would have said her piece, punctuated in such a violent fashion, and that simply would have been that. It's not as if she hasn't done her fair share of impulsive, arguably incredibly stupid things herself. The world is full of shiny things, after all, and Fearne's most natural state is one of wanting. Wanting what she can have; wanting what she can't have even more. Her general rule of thumb, before she met Orym at least, was that if she wanted a thing, she would simply take it. No one would be expected to do otherwise, in the Feywild.
So she had always understood Ashton. Their little game of back and forth thievery made sense to her in a way none of the rest of her interactions in the mortal world did. The others called Ashton ‘broken’; hells, Ashton themself did that. But to Fearne that was never true. More than any of the others, Ashton knew how to have fun. How to be mischievous. And while they'd never admit it, Fearne could tell they saw the beauty in the world around them.
And they were beautiful, too. Not that Fearne had ever told them as much, but it was true. Not just hot, but beautiful. Their gold-forged cracks, the opalescent and incomprehensible shine of their mind through the pieces of their once-shattered skull. To have been so crushed by the world - literally - and to come back stronger, more determined, more utterly unfathomable…
Ashton was precisely the sort of shiny, captivating existence that Fearne had always found completely irresistible. And that was before she got to know them.
So when the Hells finally got their hands on the one (very shiny, very powerful) thing that Ashton had always wanted, this one and only shiny, powerful thing that Fearne was too terrified to want for herself… Honestly, who was she to tell them no? Who was she, of all people, to tell them not to try this risky, impulsive, incredibly stupid thing?
And then they asked it of her, specifically. Came to Fearne, took her aside, called her hot and got her all flustered in a way that didn't feel very her, and told her they trusted her. Her, more than any of the others in the Hells. Her, more than anyone.
Because he knew she understood.
If she had reservations before then, and she absolutely did, they melted away at "I trust you."
Okay, maybe not entirely away. But Ashton had so much faith in her. How could she not be there for Ashton in the way they were so fully convinced she would be?
When Ashton looked at her so earnestly...how was she supposed to say no?
And then, they kissed her. And then, they said it would never happen again. And then, she had to watch in helpless horror as they died, shattered into thousands of pieces, all while begging her, forcing her, not to intervene.
They knew there was a more likely chance than not that what they were about to do would kill them, slowly and violently, and they made her watch.
Well, fuck that, and fuck them. Honestly, a single hoof to the face was far, far better than Ashton deserved.
But she'd wait until he was properly healed up before the next one.
This wasn't the sort of thing she could just yell about once and move on from. This wasn't something Fearne could just...forget. Watching Ashton shatter, and the way the breath was crushed out of her chest in the seconds of time that drug on into eternity before Deanna's ring rewound time and fate to unbreak him…Fearne would never forget that as long as she lived.
And fae live for a very, very long time.
---
"Fearne, honey?"
Fearne wasn't sure how much time had passed when Imogen's soft accented voice broke through her thoughts, coming through the door to the room in Whitestone castle which had been set up for the girls to share.
"You can come in," Fearne said, with a forced cheerfulness that came out more like indifference. "It's your room, too. And it's not like you just exploded while I stood there watching."
"Not this time," Imogen said, with a weak, self-deprecating little chuckle, as she slipped in through the door and closed it gently behind her.
Fearne, sitting on the bed and facing the opposite wall blankly as she had been for who knows how long already, didn't look up at Imogen's entrance. But she didn't shoo her away, either. Imogen, taking that as at least a tentative welcome, stood in place by the door, giving Fearne the space to set the tone.
"I just wanted to come see if you were alright," Imogen started, gently.
"Of course I'm not alright!" Fearne spun to stare Imogen down, wildfire flaring in her eyes and voice somehow magnified and hollow-sounding all at once - but to her credit, Imogen didn't even flinch. She stood, placidly, hands folded together, waiting Fearne out. In another heartbeat, the flare was gone, leaving only a plaintive doe-eyed mournfulness that Imogen took as an invitation.
"I'm sorry," Fearne said as Imogen came and sat right up beside her on the bed, leaning her head into Fearne's shoulder and placing one hand gently on her lap. Fearne took it without thinking and leaned into Imogen's touch. It was nice, just having someone close by like that. Nana Morri was wonderful, but not exactly the cuddling type. The Crown Keepers had taught her the value of a good snuggle, though, and right at that moment, she was grateful for the presence of someone solid. Someone who was in one piece, not a thousand. Someone trustworthy.
And to think, not too long ago Orym had asked Fearne to be prepared to kill Imogen if she betrayed the party for her mother, if she lost control.
Why, why, was Fearne always the one responsible for the Hells’ life or death?
"I don't...know why I snapped at you," Fearne said finally, primly, not moving away.
Imogen just squeezed her hand. "Well I do. I've been angry at the world enough times to know that sometimes it blows back on people who aren't exactly responsible. I don't mind takin' a few hits if it helps you feel better."
"It doesn't," Fearne replied, simply. "I'm not angry with you. I don't think I'm really angry with the world, either."
"Just someone who feels like the whole world?" Imogen's words were gentle, as if she knew exactly what a gut-punch they'd be and was hoping to soften the blow. If so, it didn't work.
Fearne felt a little light-headed.
"We don't have to talk about it," Imogen said, after a long silence. "But I'd suggest you take a few breaths, at least."
Fearne exhaled sharply, then took in a nice deep breath. The ringing in her ears subsided a touch. Another breath, and she felt almost steady. Almost.
"Are they okay?" Fearne finally asked, tensely.
"Ashton, or everybody else?" Imogen asked dryly, clearly knowing which one Fearne had meant.
Fearne chuckled, surprising even herself. It wasn't like any of this was in any way funny, but…
“We really are all kind of a giant mess, aren't we?" She laughed again, and while it still held a dark edge, there was a hint of softness to it too.
"After everything we've seen and gone through in the past few months? Hells, the last week, even. I'd be a lot more concerned for us if we weren't a giant mess after all that." Imogen turned her head and leaned over slightly to meet Fearne's eyes, giving her a warm smile. She let out the smallest sigh of relief when Fearne responded with a tentative smile of her own.
But then Imogen's face went grim. "They're... recovering, if that's what you mean," she said finally. "Doesn't seem like there will be any lasting damage, once they've had some time to rest."
"Oh, there will be lasting damage," Fearne said, eyes narrowing. "I'm going to make sure of that."
Imogen barked out a laugh. “You and all of us, honey. Believe me."
Fearne looked away toward the wall again and sighed.
"Nobody is really talking to them," Imogen added quietly, resting her head back on Fearne's shoulder. "Letters made sure they weren't actively dying anymore and then wheeled right off. You know you've gone and fucked up when not even Letters has anything kind to say."
When Fearne didn't respond immediately, Imogen squeezed her hand again, but looked over at her intently. "Fearne...did he tell you what he was going to do? Why didn't you warn us? Maybe we could have-"
"Stopped him?" Fearne snapped, a bit sharper than she meant to. "You think I didn't think of that? You think I haven't been sitting here staring at the wall going through it in my mind wondering over and over all the things I might have done differently or how even the tiniest change would mean they were dead right now?"
"No," Imogen said, cutting her off. Then, in a smaller and gentler voice, said, "I was just wondering if maybe they…forced the matter. It just doesn't…it just doesn't quite strike me as something you'd do."
"You don't think I'd do something reckless and impulsive?" Fearne asked, turning to look at Imogen with a raised eyebrow. "Because some of the most fun I've had in my whole life was when I-"
"No. I meant you standing there watching Ashton killing themself like that. Watching them hurt at all, even. Without doing everything you could to stop it."
"Oh." Fearne's face fell, and she felt her stomach drop along with it, for about the thousandth time that day. "Well...he told me not to. Interfere, I mean. He made me promise. And he said I was the only one he trusted to-"
“Ohhh, the way I am about to shatter that man all over again," Imogen growled, balling her fists and standing abruptly, but Fearne caught her arm and pulled her back down.
"It was my choice," Fearne said earnestly. And then, more hesitantly, "I mean, he asked me to promise him, but I could have said no. I just wanted..."
"To make him happy?" Imogen finished, a touch of understanding in her tone.
"...to deserve it," Fearne finished instead. "The way he was looking at me. Like I was the only one in the whole world who could ever understand him. Like maybe, if he really could depend on me, that someday I might even be someone he'd..."
"Love?" Imogen offered, very quietly.
Fearne said nothing. She wasn't sure that was the right word for what she was feeling, or had been feeling before all this at least. But she wasn't sure it wasn't the right word, either.
"For what it's worth, Fearnie, I do believe Ashton loves you. Loves all of us," she emphasized, before Fearne could protest. "In the way they're able to. Which is a really fucked up way sometimes," she added, eyes narrowing. "But even if their actions are downright idiotic - and that is the most generous way to describe this - I do think their intentions are solid. Their heart's in the right place."
Her eyes steeled. "But Fearnie? Ashton didn't just act like a reckless idiot this time. They didn't just attempt some stupid thing for the supposed sake of 'the greater good.’ It'd be one thing if they'd done this on their own. But they didn't. They forced you to watch. As they died." She shook her head at the words as she said them, trying to shake the image from her brain.
"I told you. They didn't force me. I chose-"
"Fearne." Imogen looked her straight in the eyes, not giving her the chance to look away. "You tell me. At any point - any point at all - during all of this, did you ever truly feel like you had a choice? Really feel it?"
Fearne frowned, sat with the words. And as they truly sank in, a look somewhere between horror and bone-deep disappointment took over her face.
"I... I wanted to help him get what he wanted," she said, shaking her head. Trying to convince herself more than Imogen. "I wanted-"
"To watch him go up in literal flames? To crack apart like-"
"Of course I didn't want that!" Fearne practically yelled, before abruptly shutting her mouth. She didn't realize she was crying until Imogen reached up and wiped away the tears with a jacket sleeve.
"That's what I'm saying, honey. Of course that's not what you wanted. None of us would have ever, but you?" She shook her head. "Fearne Calloway, you are one of the sweetest and gentlest and most caring people I have ever met. You have got the biggest heart of all of us. And Ashton...knows that."
She frowned, and shrugged slightly, looking deep into Fearne's eyes to hold her gaze.
"I can't say if it was a conscious decision, or intentional. Knowing that emotionally immature idiot, probably not. Only Ashton knows that. But Fearne…they do know about you. They know how much you care about them. They know how you feel about them. And they took advantage of that to get what they wanted." Imogen's tone twisted into something darker, more bitter. "I love him too, Fearne. Maybe not - well. But I love him, like family, for better or worse." She took both of Fearne's hands in hers. “But you say the word, one single word, and Ashton's gone from here. You hear me? If you never want to forgive them for this, every last one of us would support you in that."
When Fearne didn't immediately respond, Imogen sighed, and leaned back on her hands. "Even good people with the best of intentions can really fuck up sometimes. And sometimes, no matter what they were trying to do or what their reasons were, they cross a line. One they just can't ever uncross."
Imogen's lightning scars flickered slightly for a moment, before settling back down. She looked at Fearne sideways. "How things go from here is entirely up to you."
That wasn't what Fearne wanted to hear. She wanted to hear that even the worst transgressions could be mended. That any bridge with enough love behind it could be rebuilt. That trust shattered into a thousand bits of gems and granite could still be brought back together again as if time itself had been rewound.
And yet...for the first time that day, she felt like she could finally breathe.
"Hey, Imogen," she said, after letting silence hang between them for awhile. "You and Laudna..."
Despite everything, when Fearne managed a little conspiratorial smile, Imogen returned it with a sweet little one of her own.
"Yeah, Fearnie?"
"I really am happy for you both. I mean it's been super obvious you were in love with her like since the very first time we met you, so I'm kinda surprised it took this long, but-"
Imogen coughed and turned bright red. "Was it?" she asked, voice a slightly higher pitch than normal. "I mean I didn't even realize it myself until Bassuras, but I guess maybe it's more obvious when you're not in the middle of it..."
Fearne nodded sagely, but then her smile faded a little bit. "Well, Bassaras was actually what I wanted to ask about."
"What... about it?" Imogen said, shifting uncomfortably and no longer smiling.
"You don't like talking about it, do you?"
Imogen shook her head slightly. "It wasn't a good time, Fearne. But if it would help you to hear about.."
"Well it's just…that all happened because Laudna broke your rock, right?"
" Yeah - but she didn't mean to!" Imogen added quickly. "It was more complicated than that, I mean there were other factors, the rock was influencing me and Delilah was influencing her, and I wasn't being honest about my feelings and it was all a great big mess, but…but yeah, that's what started it. And afterwards, even when I knew for sure she didn't mean to do it, I just...wasn't ready to forgive her yet."
"When it happened," Fearne said, wringing her hands together and looking away, "did it feel like she had taken your whole entire heart in her hands, and then exploded it into a lot of tiny pieces, and then stomped on all the pieces with her hooves?"
"Well, Laudna doesn't have hooves, but-" Imogen started with little chuckle, before realizing Fearne was crying again and walking it back, reaching out to wrap her arms around her.
"Oh, Fearnie. I'm so sorry. I don't really know what to say to you right now. I don't think there's anything I can do to fix this for you. But I'm not going anywhere, y'hear?"
Fearne sniffed. "Just... tell me how you did it."
"How I did what?"
"Forgave her.”
Imogen’s face pinched with worry, but she didn’t respond, waiting for Fearne to elaborate.
“I don't...I don't know how you did it. But now you're all..." Fearne gestured vaguely. "Together and in love and happy and all. Which I still think is great, by the way. But clearly you figured out some trick to it, so, tell me what it is. Please. How'd you do it?"
Imogen shook her head, but continued to hold Fearne close. Her eyes were wet too, but she held the tears back as best as she could; this was about Fearne, not her.
“I don't think there is a trick to it, love. It's like I said: yes, she hurt me terribly, and that made it hard to trust her again at first, but in the end I knew she hadn't done it on purpose. That she'd never hurt me on purpose. So I just couldn't stay mad at her for it."
"Do you think Ashton did it on purpose?" Fearne asked, so quietly Imogen barely heard her.
Imogen frowned. Hard.
"I wish I knew, Fearne. Ask me yesterday and I woulda said that even in their stupidest moments they'd never intentionally hurt their friends. And I'm sure they had some grand idea that they were gonna be the hero and everything would turn out just fine somehow without putting even a single thought into how the rest of us would feel, but-"
"Oh, no, they thought about that," Fearne interjected. "They told me that they thought we'd think it made for a great story if it all went wrong. Right after they kissed me."
"I'm sorry, they said wha-- they did what?" Imogen sputtered, scooting back to get a good look at Fearne.
Fearne shrugged. "Right before they said it'd never happen again. Though I suppose if they really had died, that would have been true."
"Fearne!" Imogen grabbed her by the shoulders. "They did die! Right in front of us! And they made you promise to stand there and watch if it happened! And they had the absolute gall to kiss -- oh when I am done with that idiotic asshole he is going to wish he'd stayed dead."
"I didn't mind the kiss," Fearne said in a small voice. “It was the parts before and after that that sucked a little."
"...Fearne, has anyone ever told you that you have a gift for understatement?" Imogen shook her head and sighed. "Look, I told you I would let you decide what the right move is here. And I will, because unlike some people," she said through gritted teeth, "I actually keep my promises. So all of us will follow your lead here. But if you're asking me if he did what he did to you on purpose?" She shrugged. "Honestly, I don't know that it matters. Because even if they didn't mean to hurt you, Fearne, what they did to you wasn't just an accident. This wasn’t some little broken rock. It was cruel. And if they'd stopped to think about that for even a moment, maybe they'd have realized that."
"I guess... they must not really care that much about me if they didn't even stop to think about how I'd feel, huh?..."
Imogen's shoulders slumped.
"Now I didn't say that. Ashton's clearly got a lot of heart. I'm sure somewhere in that twisted crystal head of theirs, they somehow got caught up in the idea that this really was the best thing for everyone. But it's gonna be damn hard enough for me to ever trust them again. And they lied to me, Fearne, but they didn't ask me to lie to my friends or to stand there and not interfere as they melted to death, and they didn't play with my feelings to make it happen."
Imogen chewed on her lip, then really quietly added, "I love Laudna more than I love my own self, Fearne. And maybe...maybe if she asked me to keep a secret from you all, I'd do it. Maybe if she asked me to let her make a stupid choice, I would, and I'd support her in it even if it meant covering it up for her. I can't even say that given the opportunity, I wouldn't do something incredibly stupid to save you all, if I was real convinced it would work and there was no other way.
"But I would never, ever force Laudna to sit there and watch me explode without even trying to stop me. And if I knew whatever stupid thing she was about to do was more likely to kill her than not..." Imogen’s voice lowered to a growl. "I'd do every single thing in my power to stop her. If she tried to claim that meant I didn't love her enough, or trust her enough? If she forced me to just sit there and watch, and made me feel guilty if I didn't?" Imogen took a deep breath. "I don't think I could forgive that, Fearne. Not even from Laudna."
Fearne watched her almost warily, letting the words sink in.
"If she did that to you, you wouldn't love her anymore?"
Imogen's hard expression melted.
"I don't think there's any force in the world that could make me not love Laud as much as I do. But even if I never stopped loving her...no, Fearne, I don't think I'd be able to trust her after something like that. I don't think I'd ever look at her the same way again."
Fearne wouldn't meet Imogen's gaze, but her tears had stopped, at least for the moment. She gazed off into space toward the wall.
"Do you think I'd feel better if I kicked them a few more times, at least?"
Imogen let out a choked laugh. "Honestly, it couldn't hurt to try. Maybe I'll give it a shot, myself. Best to try it more than once. You know, for science."
Fearne finally met her gaze at that, with a small but genuine smile. "Thanks. I wasn't entirely sure if that was the fae approach to this, or a normal human response."
"I think you're as human as they come, Fearne. In all the ways that matter, at least." Imogen stood, and held out a hand for Fearne to take. "Now come on. We've confined the idiot to their room for the night to think about what they’ve done while the rest of us get as drunk as we deserve to, after that. And it wouldn't feel nearly as satisfying without you." She smiled. "Besides, I know Orym's been looking for you too."
With one last sigh but a tentative smile, Fearne took Imogen's hand and followed her downstairs.