Chapter Text
—chapter 1
Rain fell steadily, tapping against the glass of the greenhouse in a soft rhythm.
They hadn't met like this in sometime. Two months. Not that Bedivere would admit to counting the days since talking to her.
Not with her so close now.
Seeing Fyrellah from a distance, surrounded by some entourage of guards, or gods forbidden by his side, was much different than her being just on the other side of the room.
Vines hung lazily from the ceilings and walls, flowers growing out of pots in places they shouldn't, honeysuckles overtaking the two overgrown shrubs beside the entrance.
She hadn't looked up when he entered, her back to him and sleeves rolled up as she dug in the pot of dirt in front of her. Some vine-like plant seemed to cling to her fingers as she lifted it to place it into its new home, wild ginger curls falling into her face messily.
She was beautiful.
It took every fiber of his being not to stride across the room and wrap her in his arms and a soft kiss. Not that they had kissed… not since her wedding night..
“Bedivere?” She spoke, turning her head over her shoulder to offer a smile. A real one. Not the fake ones she gave to council meetings and political gatherings.
Something Lorcan couldn't own in this space.
She had fought for the permission for this to be her private place, something no one else was allowed to enter.
Something entirely hers.
Bedivere was the secret treasure she held on to here.
And he knew it.
“Hey, I got your message.” He spoke as he they closed the short distance between each other.
Gods she's beautiful.
Her messy bun was almost pointlessly falling off her head, framing a dirt smudge, freckled face. The warm lantern light reflected against the gold in her blue eyes as she looked up at him in the way that could eat him alive. And it probably would have if-
She looks exhausted..
Hard to see in the dim light around them, but noticeable enough to Bedivere, small bags under her eyes and the slight way she held her body as if it weighed two tons. He unintentionally reached out to her, cupped her cheek for a moment, letting his thumb rub just under her eye.
“I missed you.”
She smiled at this, not pulling away immediately, but actually leaning into his touch for a moment, before turning back to her work on her plants.
He didn't mention her exhaustion. It wasn't his place to ask. He was Erezion's apprentice, here for the ultimate form of education from the head of the council. Far from his home and under scrutiny to do his best to behave…
..which had lasted two weeks into his apprenticeship.
The moment he had set eyes on Fyrellah, the often whispered of Oracle, he had done his best to stay out of trouble. He did.
And it wasn't like she had made it easy.
Their glances turned to touches which in turn changed into something else entirely. Something new and exciting and scandalous above anything else.
Bedivere helped her pat down the dirt around her new plants, the glint of her ring sitting on the side table of the greenhouse catching his eye.
Until he had shown his interest.
Bedivere had no problem with Lorcan. He sat on the council, people loved him, he was pleasant when he spoke to Bedivere. That was the extent of their connection.
Everything changed when he began to show interest in Fyrellah.
Bedivere knew what would happen, he wasn't stupid.
Lorcan was a powerful sorcerer, and he held status. Fyrellah was The Oracle, and the youngest member of the Sol family.
So it was no surprise to him when Fyrellah had come to him, eyes unreadable and face blank, telling him that he had asked for her hand in marriage.
He had held her then, let her cry in his arms. Whatever they had, whatever was blossoming between them was stolen from them.
“Bedivere?”
Fyrellah's voice broke him away from his thoughts, her hand out stretched with a packet of seeds.
“Are you listening?” She smiled again, Bedivere's heart warming at the sight.
He smiled back, taking the seeds to plant in the next pot.
“I'm sorry. I… what were you saying?”
“I was saying, I modified these to bloom with a pop and little sparks. Something more fitting of their name..” Bedivere listened as she spoke, taking in every word she said.
How he had long to hear her voice.
Lorcan had been kind to her. That was the worst part. She wanted for nothing in life. Fine clothes, jewelry, spells and scrolls and access to things she had been excited about. She had tried to make the best of the situation, and Bedivere had been supportive.
He took his position of best friend seriously.
And for a while? It seemed like she was meant to be his greatest heartbreak.
But then he noticed.
Lorcan assigned guards to her, everywhere she went was monitored. Everyone saw it as protection, a loving husband worrying for his wife's safety.
Bedivere could still see the smirk of Lorcan's lips as he spoke to him that day.
“You're very attentive to her.”
A conversation of Bedivere stepping up to offer protection to Fyrellah, to try and avoid what he knew was going to happen next.
He already knew.
Fyrellah was pretty much isolated then. Nowhere she went was Lorcan or some guard of his far behind.
It had taken Fyrellah only a few days for her greenhouse to be finished, Lorcan the ever providing husband, but much longer to convince him of her safety in this place.
“Hey, hey. You're overwatering that.” Bedivere's voice was soft as he gently took her wrist to stop her from pouring.
A shaky laugh left her, causing Bedivere to go on high alert. There was pain there. And Fyrellah never overwatered or overpreened anything.
“I know..”
Her voice was just above a whisper now, her other hand coming to keep Bedivere's grip on her wrist.
They sat in silence now. Bedivere watched her, waiting for her to be ready to speak. Something was wrong.
He didn't notice the tears at first. He had only ever seen Fyrellah cry once since this began. Since that first confession of Lorcan, she had been almost calculated in her emotions. Something very much unlike her wild, ambitious behavior that Bedivere knew was actually her.
But now she was crying in front of him again. Softly at first, her lips trembling as she tried to hold whatever it was inside.
“..he hurt you?” Bedivere spoke first, keeping his voice a thin line of assumptions.
“No”
She snapped back at him then, moving away from his touch and backing away from Bedivere. Her knuckles gripped each other until they turned white under the soil that covered them.
“I… no… he didn't hurt me.. I mean…” her voice cracked a little, Bedivere moving toward her even as she turned away.
The splash of the water basin as she scrubbed at the dirt on her hands and arms now made Bedivere pause. He watched her scrub them harder and harder, skin turning raw.
Something was very wrong.
“Fyrellah.. fyrellah!” Bedivere called out to her as he made his way over, stopping her hands from scrubbing gently.
“Please… talk to me”
Silence. Drawn out and heavy between them. She didn’t look up at him as she spoke, half of her face hidden behind a now completely loose mess of wild curls. He could still see her tears though.
Her voice was a whisper, Bedivere almost unsure if he heard her correctly.
“I'm pregnant..”
Vertigo hit Bedivere for a split second.
The world spun for just a moment but snapping back into place.
No.
He had barely enough time to hold himself together as Fyrellah fell apart in front of him, her hand coming to cover her mouth as she collapsed to her knees.
Bedivere got on her level immediately, pulling her to his chest. He wasn't sure how to handle her grief at this moment. But holding her seemed like a good start.
“I don't want this, Bedivere…. Any of it.” She sobbed into his chest, releasing the emotions she had.
“He talks to me like I belong to him. Like this child is already his to own.”
Bedivere stayed quiet, letting her cry and vent all she wanted. Not that he could speak through how tightly he held his jaw.
Bedivere was kind. His mama had raised him to be a good man, and he wasn't going to deny it to anyone. He believed in the good of the world…
..but he wasn't unaware of its evils.
And the rage that was currently snaking its way through his veins, like ice blossoming on a frozen window pane, was also something he could say was because of his mama.
His sense of justice would usually prevail over his obligations.
With Fyrellah so small, exhausted and crying in his arms? For once his justice felt like an obligation.
“I can't do this anymore, Bedivere…” her voice was muffled against his shirt, her hand holding tight to the fabric.
“You don't have to, okay? I.. I can fix this.”
“Bedivere…”
“No I- I can. I just- we just-”
“There's no fixing it, Bedivere!” Fyrellah yelled at him then, standing up and turning away from him.
That hurt.
Her shoulders shook, her posture defeated. He stood behind her, keeping the distance if it was what she needed, watching her continue crying into her hand.
A cold, cracked laugh escaped her for a moment, scaring Bedivere slightly.
“You should hear him talk.” She turned slightly towards Bedivere, hand on her stomach now.
“How beautiful his child will be. All the things they'll be able to do…”
To an outsider the conversations would probably sound pleasant, proud.
Bedivere wanted to puke.
A memory came to him. Of Lorcan.
A diplomatic dinner.
Lorcan laughing, talking, Fyrellah by his side. Bedivere and Erezion had approached, much to his dismay, but the chance to be so close to Fyrellah had been worth it at the time.
Something Lorcan had said to him now stood out.
He had of course brought out his pet. A prize possession that he tended to brag about endlessly. A small phoenix. Everyone else would oooh and ahhh over the poor thing.
All Bedivere could see was its clipped wings.
Lorcan had been regailing them about how difficult it had been to tame his pet.
How wild things settle eventually.
The way he had glanced at Fyrellah as he said it. The way his hand on the small of her back was ever present. The way Bedivere could almost watch her shrink.
“I'm just part of his collection, Bedivere..” Fyrellah spoke in a tired voice now, not looking at him as she spoke..
“And now he's got something new to add.”
Bedivere did walk up to her then. He made sure she was okay with his touch, gently brushing curls away from her face. She looked up at him again, a broken version of the woman Bedivere knew her to be.
“Let me talk to Erezion. Please. I…”
“No Bedivere. If he finds out-”
“I know.. I'm… I won't let you keep enduring him.”
Bedivere spoke of a finality that he didn't realize he was making. Fyrellah began to sob again at his words.
The rest of their evening was spent much like this. Bedivere spoke very little, allowing Fyrellah the freedom of her voice. Of her tears and anger at her situation.
It was hard to say goodbye. It was hard to not kiss her as they embraced.
Bedivere watched her form turn into shadow as she made her way back to her quarters. To her prison cell.
The rain had stopped, the clouds clearing to reveal a star lit sky. The moon was new, blinked out against the dark of stars and sky around it. Yet he could still see its faint outline when he looked up.
Under the darkness he swore he would find a way to fix this. To save her.