Archive of Our Own ^beta

Saul runs as fast as he can. The trees are flying past him as he tries to reach her in time. He does not even want to think about the possible consequences if he doesn’t make it. So he ignores the burning in his lungs and pushes himself further. He has to make it. He has to save Farah.

There, in the distance… He can finally see the first gravestones appearing between the trees; he’s almost there. Just a little further… Saul is willing himself to go even faster, despite the stinging pain in his right leg that tells him that he has overdone it. But there is time to worry about that later, after he has found her.

He does not slow down when he reaches the path that leads across the graveyard. He just continues, leaves crunching underneath his feet, not caring one bit about his own safety while he’s frantically looking around to find a trace of his fairy.

At first there is nothing but the trees and the endless-seeming rows of headstones. No sign of her, no sound aside from the thumping of his feet hitting the ground.

Then he sees her, and his greatest fear comes true.

Farah is lying on the path just to the side of one of the benches. She’s not moving and her body is covered in blood. There is so much of it… Too much, the soldier inside him knows.

Banishing the thought, to keep his rising panic at bay, Saul rushes over to her and drops to his knees next to her prone body.

It’s a horrible sight. There are deep gashes all over her torso. Her limbs are broken in multiple places judging by the unnatural angles they are in. It is impossible to tell if she’s still breathing, but Saul has a sickening feeling that he already knows the answer.

“Farah,” he gasps her name and ignores the sticky wetness that is seeping through the fabric of his pants where his knees touch the earth.

When the fairy does not react, he reaches for her blood-splattered neck to check for a pulse. Nothing.

He is too late.

“No, Farah. Please,” he begs as he reaches out one hand to gently caress her cold, lifeless face. “Come back to me.”

***

With a start, Saul wakes, his eyes open wide, heart beating wildly in his chest. He is breathing hard and his body is covered in cold sweat. Surrounded by darkness, he reacts on instinct and pushes himself up on his arms in order to get up and face whatever is out there, before he realises that he is in his bed and that there is no threat.

Just a dream, he tells himself and lets his head fall back onto the pillow.

He covers his face with his hands, rubbing it as if to wash off the memory of the nightmare that still haunts him and takes a few deliberate, slow breaths, in an attempt to calm himself.

It is not the first time he’s had a dream like this. The fear of losing her has haunted him ever since he felt their bond for the first time. That warm tingle in his chest that told him she was the other half of his soul, that intensified his need to protect her and keep her safe at all costs because a life without her seemed impossible.

And who could blame him for worrying? They have seen so much, have been through so much together. The war with the Burned Ones, Rosalind… It’s only natural that he is worried about losing her. After all, they’ve had a few close calls over the years and she is one of two people that mean the world to him.

So the nightmares have become a constant companion. But now, now they are also his reality.

Whenever they troubled him in the past, he would reach for her, find her sleeping body next to his and pull her into his arms to feel her warmth and the slow beating of her pulse, to assure himself that she was alright.

But ever since he returned to Alfea, the spot next to him has been cold and empty, a stark reminder of her absence, and the bond, which would let him know that she was safe when they were apart, is gone. No matter how much he tries, he cannot reach her. Instead, he only feels the pain of loss.

Saul’s next breath turns into a strangled sob. Confronted with the cold, harsh truth, he can barely hold it together. Farah is gone and while he puts on a brave face every day in front of the students, here in the darkness of his bedroom he struggles to keep up this facade.

Instead, he finds himself facing his demons, his biggest failures, his greatest losses and they threaten to tear him apart. Sometimes he wonders how much more he can take, because despite what he may have said to Sky, he is not one of those unshakable fighters, no matter how much he might want to be.

Saul is about to just give in to the pain and the tears when a low rustling next to him catches his attention.

He rubs his eyes one last time to get rid of the additional moisture, unwilling to let his weakness show, and rolls onto his side, before turning on the small lamp on his bedside table.

Next to it sits a potted plant. A small, green fern. Saul smiles sadly at the sight of it.

It is both the best and the worst thing about this whole mess. A sign that he has not lost her forever even though she’s not in his arms right now.

As soon as the thought goes through his head, it is replaced by another. He does not even hesitate for a second.

Saul sits up and carefully picks up the pot before he draws it to his chest and puts his arms around it. Then he closes his eyes and inhales slowly, counting the seconds as he does. One, two, three, four. He holds his breath for a moment and lets it out again. One, two, three, four.

He should feel ridiculous. Sitting here cradling a potted plant. But it’s all he has left. It’s as close as he can get to Farah these days.

The rustling continues and is soon joined by the distinct smell of lavender, which can only mean one thing: Farah has changed her form.

Saul knows that the plant she has turned into is not a coincidence, but a deliberate choice. It is her way of soothing him. The only option left to her in her current state, and it breaks his heart. She should not be doing this. What little magic she has left is precious, she should not be using it to comfort him. He does not deserve that. Not when he wasn’t there to protect her when she needed him.

He can almost hear her voice in his head. I can take care of myself, Saul.

And she can. His stubborn, wonderful fairy is a force to be reckoned with. She proved it the day she faced Rosalind. Her body may be gone but killing her was not enough to destroy her.

It does not, however, change the fact that it is his damn duty to protect her, whether she needs him to or not. It is his job and he blew it.

Once more his eyes start to burn with unshed tears and his throat feels tight. The calmness he was trying to reach is slipping from his grasp again. Saul swallows and takes a few shaky breaths in an attempt to compose himself.

“Don’t waste your magic, Farah. Not on me,” he says, his voice a little hoarse from sleep and the tears he’s holding back.

He knows that she would disagree, but he does not deserve her kindness, no matter how much he longs for it, longs for her. The truth of the matter is, he did the one thing he swore he would never do. He failed her and he will never forgive himself for it.