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Chapter Text

BEFORE

With practiced ease, you spun your upper body to avoid contact with Saul’s kick. Hunching low, you swung your leg across the cold ground, hitting Saul hard against his feet, causing him to fall onto his back. Before he got the chance to recover, you were on top of him and in a swirl of movement you trapped him beneath you. Only at his fist pounding the floor, you relented. Andreas let out a low whistle, leaving Saul thoroughly displeased. Stepping off the training mat, your eyes met Farah’s, who gave a nod of approval, an amused twinkle in her eye. 

“Quite the demonstration out there.” Farah said sometime later as you entered the changing rooms. 

Unzipping your jacket, you let out a small chuckle, “I don’t think Saul found it very funny.”

“Saul always underestimates you.” Farah said as she walked closer, her arms circling your waist. She placed a soft kiss on your lips, and you hummed. Her kisses had a way of drawing you in, affecting you in a way no other ever could. Gazing into her warm hazel eyes for a moment you realised you could happily get lost there. Sometimes it scared you that you felt this way around her. As though nothing but she mattered in this world. Turning around, you were momentarily struck by the sensation of the very earth beneath your feet shifting. It caused you to reach out and grip Farah’s arm to prevent tumbling to the floor, “Darling, are you alright?” she asked, looking concerned. Taking a moment to respond, you said, “I think I’m going to be sick.” At that you ran across the room to the bathroom just in time and threw up. Straightening, you let out a deep sigh. Strange, you thought, it had been such a long time since you had pushed yourself this hard during training. Farah was there as you rose to your feet, softly whispering your name and gently stroking your back in comfort. She didn’t say anything else, but she fixed you with an intent look. You knew thoughts were spinning behind those eyes, as though the solution to Otherworld peace lay at the tip of her tongue. You squeezed her arm reassuringly as you passed, “I’m fine.” 

It turned out, you were not fine. Every day that passed came with renewed waves of nausea and sickness. Spells of it overcame you during the strangest times, never a pattern. Farah grew increasingly concerned, unable to persuade you to seek out Ben for advice. You convinced yourself it was an aggressive stomach virus, hoping it would pass within the next few days. It had not escaped Headmistress Rosalind’s notice either. During training, your movements were sluggish, and you were quick to defeat. She barked out your name, beckoning you to her, “I see you’re ill.” She said, crossing her arms disapprovingly. You opened your mouth to speak, but she cut you off, “I’m benching you.” 

“But-” you started to protest.

Rosalind’s eyes snapped to yours, and you fell silent, “Go back to your quarters.” She said with such finality that you couldn’t hope to argue. 

Your head hanging low, you did as you were told. This felt ridiculous, especially so close to Rosalind’s plan unfolding. Burned ones riddled the country sides, and specialists struggled to keep up. More soldiers were killed every day, marring the green hills with crimson. You, alongside Farah, Saul, Andreas, and Ben had been recruited to be a part of a specialist team equipped to tackle burned ones with magic and sword. If you were completely honest with yourself, there were times you didn’t agree with Rosalind’s methods. Sometimes you saw alternative approaches to her preferred brute force, but you didn’t dare voice it. As a soldier and her employee, you didn’t consider it your place. Under different circumstances perhaps you would have, if she considered you her equal. Rosalind had a way of holding herself in higher regards, the very air around her seemed thick with tension. Not even Saul or Farah had uttered their disagreements. At this point she seemed to be the only one getting any results, and no one was too keen to jeopardise that. 

As you made your way home you abruptly took a sharp turn out on the grounds towards the greenhouse and Ben, now more determined to find out what was causing your bouts of illness. Entering the hot air of the greenhouse, you found Ben as you so very often did; hunched low over a work bench, studying the leaves of a delicate flower which lay before him. At the sound of your footsteps, he looked up, “Oh, hello.” He greeted in mild surprise, “What brings you here? Aren’t you supposed to be out training?” 

You shrugged, “I am. It’s actually why I’m here.” You paused, suddenly feeling slightly awkward. Ben was your friend, had been for years, and for some reason it felt rather odd to come to him with personal issues of this nature. 

He placed the pincers held in his hand down on the bench, “Oh?” he asked with a questioning look, “What’s going on?” 

You sat down in a nearby chair, letting out a sigh, “I’m not entirely sure. I’ve been sick every day now for the last week.” Meeting his eyes, you were unsure how to explain it further, “Vomited a lot, that is.” You let out a nervous laugh. 

He moved closer now, fixing his concentration on you, “Nauseous too, then I imagine?” at your nod he continued, “Anything in particular that triggers you, do you think?” 

You took a moment to consider, the time in the changing rooms there had been a strong odour of coconut as you opened your locker. A few days ago, Farah had made an egg sandwich. Puzzled, you looked up at him, “Yes, actually. Come to think of it.” 

“Hm.” Ben seemed to ponder, before seemingly arguing with himself. He turned away to rummage through a cupboard at the back of the room, emerging with a thin glass vial containing a green leaf. Pulling up a chair in front of you, he gingerly removed the leaf with gentle fingers. Reaching over the work bench, he quickly found what he was looking for, “Your finger, please.” He said as he returned to face you.

“My- what?” 

He held out his hand, “Your finger.” Now more confused than before, you offered it to him. With a small prick, he pierced a thin needle through your skin, a tiny drop of blood emerged. Turning your hand, he smeared the blood onto leaf. 

You looked at him in bewilderment, “Ben? What on earth?” he had gone completely quiet and still, as he always did when excited about something. 

“Oh, right.” He said, carefully placing the leaf onto his work bench, “this is a leaf off the tree of life.” His eyes gleamed with excitement, and you could not fathom why. 

“If introduced to the blood of new life, it will cause a reaction…” he looked down at it expectantly, lying innocently before him. As if on cue, the vibrant colour green faded from the tiny leaf, growing purple, blue, then orange, before rising into the air and evaporating in a spark of gold. “Remarkable.” He muttered.

“Ben!” you raised your voice in exasperation, “What does it mean?”

“New life!” he said excitedly, gesturing towards you.

You snorted, “Ben, now is not the time for jokes.” 

“It’s… not.” He said then, growing more serious as he sat down. 

You started catching on, somewhere in the back of your mind it made sense. But how? It couldn’t be possible, “Say the words.” 

He seemed to hesitate for a moment, before giving a timid smile, “You’re pregnant.” 

Dread, as cold as ice, filled your insides and the earth spun again, “Ben…” you warned as you felt yourself slipping away. His response was swift, and he caught your arm before you slid off your chair. A moment later, he had you placed on one of the stretchers, ignoring your protests. Your mind was spinning, pregnant? How would that even happen? You looked up at Ben, feeling slightly embarrassed, “I don’t understand…” and a thought struck you like a bolt of lightening, “I didn’t cheat on Farah.” You said, fixing him with a firm gaze. 

He sighed, “I don’t think you did.” 

“Then, how?” you were utterly astonished.

Again, the question seemed to weigh on him, and he took a moment to consider, “It has happened before. Just not in a very long time.” 

“How long?” you asked carefully.

“I’ve only read about it.” As he said it, he winced slightly, afraid to add to your worry.

A myriad of questions built inside you, and you didn’t know where to start. Before you could open your mouth to speak however, he patted your hand gently, “It’ll be alright. I’ll monitor your progress like I would any expectant mother.” 

You let out a groan, expectant mother, you thought, fantastic.

A loud bang behind you ripped you from your thoughts and you heard a voice call out your name. It was Farah. How could you begin to explain? 

As she entered the room, Ben smiled softly, “I’ll give you some privacy.” 

“Wait a second, please.” You said, unsure of where to start.

Farah sat down on the chair next to the bed as you sat up and swung your legs down at the side of the it. “Are you alright, my love?” her question was so soft, piercing your chest with comfort. 

Nodding, you spoke, “I’ve asked Ben to stay for a moment to help me explain.” 

Farah looked more concerned by the second, and you realised there was nothing for it, “I’m pregnant, Farah.” 

For several moments she was stunned into silence. You turned slightly towards Ben giving him a pleading look, who seemed to catch on, “The child is yours.” He said, smiling, “A part of the both of you.” 

At that, Farah reached out and gripped your hands. Ben took it as his cue, and silently left the room, leaving the two of you in complete silence. 

You hung your head, shaking it from side to side, “I don’t know… how…” you started, feeling overwhelmed. Tears trickled down your cheeks, this had not been how you had imagined this year to unfold. You were at war; how could you ever bring a child into the equation? Soft fingers touched your chin, gently tipping your face upwards. When you met Farah’s gaze you were surprised to see that she was smiling. It made you cry even harder. She pulled you towards her in a fierce embrace, holding you tightly against her, “It’s not what we planned or could ever imagine. But permit yourself to; a child, our child.” As she pulled away from you, she smiled widely, happiness radiating of her like rays of the sun. 

You let out a shaky laugh through your tears, “We’ll be ok.” You nodded.

Farah leaned closer to rest her forehead against yours, “I love you.” She murmured.

“Too much, it seems.” You laughed, letting the reality set in. You were surprised to find that the overwhelming worry you’d felt moments ago had lifted somewhat, replaced by joy, affected by Farah’s infectious smile. 

-

Weeks passed, and Rosalind had suspended you from your duties. Though disappointed, you couldn’t argue. The specialist trade was not the place for you anymore. You had not retreated entirely however, still determined to contribute to the cause. You spent increasing hours at Ben’s side, assisting him in his research. While you were happy to know that you could still contribute, you missed the practical aspect. You’d always excelled in combat, considered yourself skilled in the art of it. Every time the thought crept in the back of your mind, you managed to focus on the reason to why you stepped back. Your hand slid down the side of your stomach, the growing swell apparent. Straightening in your chair, your eyes travelled across the walls of the library, where you’d situated yourself in a secluded section as not to be disturbed while working. You shifted, crossing your legs, and immediately wished you hadn’t. During the last week you’d discovered that nausea and vomiting were not the only side effects to pregnancy. Burning desire bloomed within you as swiftly as drawing breath. You let your head fall into your hands in exasperation. Though you knew it was a common side effect, you hadn’t voiced it to Farah. For some reason, you found you were slightly embarrassed. Completely irrational, you knew, for the two of you had a very healthy and gratifying sex life. It was precisely that which had landed you in your current situation. In the past however, you’d never quite crossed that line within the halls of Alfea. You’d both been content with the separation of business and pleasure, being ever professional in each other’s presence at work. Perhaps it was time to change that, for there was no ignoring the heat that crept inside your body, lighting sparks of desire. 

As you walked through the corridors, there was no sign of Farah. She could be anywhere, perhaps out on the grounds training or teaching a class. You sighed, resigning yourself to feeling uncomfortable for the remainder of the day. Turning a corner, you jerked your head up at the sound of a very familiar voice. Heat rose in your body, making you shiver. Farah stood at the end of the hallway, chatting to a student. Out of her uniform, she wore a pale pink blouse and dark slacks, her hands in her pockets. You smiled as you approached, waiting for a pause in their conversation, “Ms. Dowling,” you said, with all the professionalism you could muster, “May I borrow you for a minute?” 

“Certainly.” She said before turning to the student, “Any additional questions you may have, bring them to our next class. Perhaps we can have a discussion.” The young student agreed before hurrying off into the corridor. 

Farah turned to you expectantly, but you merely muttered, “Come with me”. Without turning to see whether she followed, you set off into the corridor. If Farah was confused, she didn’t say. Your eyes fell upon a door around the corner, and with a quick glace in each direction you grabbed her hand and pulled her inside. The small room was dimly lit by a small window at the top of the wall, casting rays of daylight upon you. Glancing around, you realised you’d taken Farah to a broom cupboard. It’ll have to do, you thought. Reaching around Farah, you turned the lock. Farah was completely silent, but slight concern furrowed her brows. Without pretence you pressed her against the door taking her hand. You guided it into your trousers and beneath your underwear. As her fingers touched aching flesh, she let out a surprised, “Oh.” 

“Please.” You all but gasped. 

Farah did not need to be asked twice, she crashed her lips into yours, letting out a soft moan as your tongue met hers. She tasted faintly of earl grey. You let the desire take you, felt it build within you like kindling fire. Farah did not tease, she gave exactly what you needed, understood what you wanted. Her free hand found its way beneath your shirt, traveling up the bare skin of your waist. Expertly, she swept her thumb over your nipple, the gentle touch set you on fire. With her other hand, she increased her efforts, allowing you closer and closer to the edge. She pulled her lips away from yours to gaze into your eyes, “It’s alright.” She whispered, “I’ve got you.” 

Holding onto her shoulders, you let yourself fall. You let out gasps of air as rapture overtook you, dimly aware of Farah’s kisses on your cheek, side of your mouth and jaw. She didn’t cease her movements until your body stilled, growing heavy in her arms. When the air cleared, you were surprised to see your feet firmly planted on the ground, half expecting you’d be on your knees. Farah kissed your lips affectionately before extracting herself from you and reached into the depths of her pocket for a handkerchief, wiping her hands. “We haven’t done that before.” She said, a smile playing on her lips, “Very enjoyable, I might to add.” 

Catching your breath, you let out a chuckle, “Sorry for ambushing you.” A flush rose in your cheeks, “It’s another side effect, erm, increased desire.” You said, not quite meeting her gaze. 

“And since when have you experienced this?” she asked as she pulled you to her once more. 

You let yourself lean into her, “A few days.” You said nonchalantly. 

“Well, all I can say is that I wish you’d come to me sooner.”

Taking a lose strand of hair that had escaped her intricate braided bun and tucking it behind her ear, you kissed her softly, “I will.”

You parted, and she let her hand travel over the swell of your stomach as she turned, “Perhaps next time you can let me know immediately.” She smiled as she unlocked the door, “See you later.” She said softly before stepping out into the corridor, leaving you leaning against the door, catching your breath.

Chapter Text

In the weeks and months that followed, you adjusted naturally to your new circumstances. The home you were building with Farah grew warm and familiar, as though adapting to the new life to come. As your body changed with the growth of your child you experienced bouts of insecurity and Farah, ever the attentive partner, spent a great deal of time complimenting your appearance. You hadn’t thought it possible, but you fell even deeper in love with her as she expressed her adoration for you. 

In the last week Farah had been forced to spend more time at Alfea, Rosalind seemingly growing more agitated by the day, demanding the company of her specialist soldiers practically at all times.  It was during these times you wished things were different, wished you could be there too. The fact that you were no longer a part of Rosalind’s elite team stung slightly, and you felt more removed from the situation than ever before. In the past you had shared everything with Farah, acting as her partner both at work and in life. The dual nature of your relationship worked to your benefit. Equals in every aspect, you shared both triumphs and the strain of everything Rosalind demanded of you. Now, however, you found yourself having to draw the words from Farah, and she seemed to retreat into herself at times. 

Mentions of Aster Dell had begun to catch your attention, and immediately it had you on edge, a creeping feeling that something calamitous was on the horizon. Farah too, seemed apprehensive, and while she did her best to conceal it the façade fell away in the comfort of your arms at night. You hated seeing her like this, normally so sure of herself and the decisions she made. You had always known her to make the necessary choices when faced with difficult situations. It was a trait you did not attribute to Rosalind.

Rosalind had not set a clear day for the elite team’s mission at Aster Dell and yet as time slipped on you could feel the day growing closer. The unease within yourself that surrounded the mission seemed to be growing ever more persistent. A sense of foreboding began to consume your thoughts, doing nothing to help in your condition as the babe grew restless within you at your moods. Though you had no way of knowing for sure, the night came when you grew convinced that the morning would bring the final news that the time had come and, as you sat in the bedroom that you and Farah shared, you found the impact of your unease reaching its peak. 

Perching on the edge of the bed, you found yourself unable to find sleep. Your heartbeat sounded loud in your chest, and you tried to focus on taking deep breaths. A warm hand travelled from the base of your spine to your shoulder. You closed your eyes as Farah moved closer, pressing her body against your back. She placed a kiss on your bare shoulder. 

“Can’t sleep?” You didn’t respond, merely leaned back into her, letting out a sigh. “Is it the baby?” she asked softly, letting her hand travel from your waist to your abdomen, her hand coming to rest there, stroking calming circles. 

You took several long moments to answer, placing your hand on top of hers, “No. I-” you halted abruptly at the kick in your belly. You guided Farah’s hand there, and she let out a delighted laugh which made your heart flutter. Enjoying the distraction, you allowed yourself a moment to bask in the closeness between you before you parted your lips to speak once more, “My mind is racing, but with no particular thought.” you paused briefly, letting out another sigh, “I think I’m just worried about Rosalind and what she intends to do.” You finally admitted. 

Farah let out a sigh of her own, “I am too.” She whispered into the silence. 

You turned in her embrace to face her, gazing at her. She stared back, her eyes sparkling in the dimness of your room. Your eyes flickered to her lips, the need to be closer to her still becoming overwhelming. Then you kissed her. It was a kiss that conveyed everything you felt in that moment, fear coupled with the desire to keep her close. 

The kiss deepened and you lifted yourself to your knees pressing into her. Farah responded with a ferocity that you understood - she needed this as much as you did. Her caresses were gentle, hands travelling over your body as though wishing to feel every part of you. Breaking the kiss for a mere moment to draw breath, you guided her further onto the bed. You straddled her hips and removed your satin nightdress leaving yourself completely bare before her eyes. Farah’s gaze traversed your body, drinking you in as though you were the most beautiful thing she had ever seen. One of her hands traced a path from your stomach until it came to rest between your full breasts, gently stroking a sensitive nipple. You let out a whimper, your eyes flickering shut momentarily. 

Before you could get lost in the magnificent abyss of her touches you leant down towards her, meeting her lips in a kiss more desperate than the last. Parting from her lips, you started placing kisses to the line of her jaw, tracing a line down her neck until you reached her pulse point. With deft fingers you shed her nightdress, tossing it aside, wanting nothing more than to feel her naked skin against yours. 

Farah’s breaths came in heavy pants as your lips travelled further, and you revelled in it. You let your tongue circle her nipple and she arched into your touch, demanding more. As your teeth grazed a sensitive bud, she let out a long moan, a hand grasping the back of your neck to hold you close. Venturing further, you placed kisses wherever you could reach, leaving a trail down her abdomen. 

Positioning yourself between her legs was slightly awkward given the swell of your stomach, but in that moment you did not care. You looked up at her with hooded eyes and the gaze that met you was alive with want. Placing both hands on her hips, you pressed her down into the mattress as you lowered your mouth between her parted legs and ran your tongue against slick wetness. 

The sound of Farah’s increasing moans, the way her body started tensing, left you wanting more. You reached up with one hand to squeeze her breast as you intensified the workings of your tongue. With your free hand, you pushed two fingers into her, curling them in that way that you knew would send her into a state of delicious ecstasy, and Farah let out a gasp. You could feel that she was growing closer to the edge; countless times you had seen her at the precipice and each time it was a sight to behold. The short pants of her breath were the sign you needed and with a twist of your fingers and nip of your tongue, she reached her peak. Her body shuddered, and you held her, maintaining the sensations that were shooting throughout her body the best you could. She let out a deep breath, her chest heaving. 

Slowly travelling up her body, you laid down on your side, placing an arm around her back to pull her towards you. She swung her leg to wrap it around your waist, as though wanting to be as close as possible. You leaned in and placed a slow kiss to her lips. 

After a moment Farah pulled away, still slightly out of breath. Her fingers were tracing lazy patterns on your waist and hip as she regarded you. You smiled at her. 

“You’re so beautiful.” She merely placed several soft kisses to your lips in response and you wrapped your arms around her as though never wishing to be apart. 

-

After the night spent wrapped in each other’s embrace, Farah reluctantly left the warmth of your bed at the early hours of dawn. It was the day you’d both come to dread, Rosalind had summoned her elite team for action.

Stretching your tired limbs, you got up and made your way down the stairs. You busied yourself with making a hearty breakfast, knowing Farah would need something to sustain her throughout the day. You tried quieting the incessant voice in the back of your mind, worries growing heavy in the pit of your stomach. You rubbed your side and jumped slightly as you felt a warm hand over yours, “I didn’t hear you.” Leaning into her, you let out a sigh of content despite yourself. 

Farah placed a soft kiss to your temple, “and here I thought my highly trained specialist love would be on high alert at all times. Don’t tell me our child is eating away at all of those years of training,” she teased.

The morning passed sooner than you’d wished, the both of you more quiet than usual. Undoubtedly you both felt ill at ease, not quite able to find the words to distract one another with idle chat. You glanced out of the window though the sun had yet to rise. A heavy mist lay in blankets over the green fields as though mirroring your feelings of gloom.

Walking Farah to the door you could feel apprehension lying at the surface of your skin, threatening to overwhelm you. You grabbed her hand as she turned to face you, eyes brimming with tears, “Come back to me, do you hear?”

Farah’s own eyes bore the marks of unshed tears. She cradled your face in her hands, leaning close to place several soft kisses to your lips. Her hands travelled down your body to come and rest over the ever-growing bump, “I will.” She paused then, “I love you both. So much.” She let the tears fall, and you wrapped your arms around her, holding her as close as you could. 

“I love you too.”

With one last kiss, Farah turned and walked out of the door. All you could do was watch her go.

The soft thud of the door closing left you in defeating silence. You suddenly became aware of your breathing, your heartbeat fast against your chest. Steadying yourself on the wall, you took several deep breaths. You refused to succumb to fear. Grabbing your coat, you immediately left the empty house and walked the short distance to the school grounds.

Hours passed slowly between reading and agonising about Farah’s mission. Normally you’d go to Ben who you could always rely on to reassure you. Today, however, he too had joined Rosalind’s elite team to Aster Dell and you were left to find reassurance in yourself. Somehow you managed to distract yourself enough to keep the worries at bay. When you next looked out of the window, you noticed the sun was down, daylight fading by the second. 

Finally, you were brought out of your reverie at the sound of several cars approaching. From your viewpoint you could see one car coming to a stop in front of your house. You realised with a start that Farah was about to exit and enter your home and you weren’t there. Relief as you had never felt before washed over you, nearly knocking you off your feet. 

Scrambling to gather your things you haphazardly stacked the books you’d been reading as quickly as possible. Moving through the hallways of Alfea you felt for the first time that your body was not as it used to be. Swift movement was awkward, the pressure in your chest building faster than it had ever done before. The cold night air hit your face as you emerged from the school and you found it oddly refreshing, as though it sharpened your senses. 

Bursting through your front door, you immediately called out for her, “Farah?” 

Silent. Eerily silent. It made your blood run cold, but instinct told you to move up the stairs. Upon entering your room the sight unfolding before your eyes utterly broke you. Farah knelt on the floor next to the bed, her body shaking with sobs. You moved with surprising ease in her direction, falling to your knees in front of her. With slow, gentle movements you reached out to caress her cheek. 

“Love?” You implored tentatively. Her sobs grew, and she struggled to draw breath. You pulled her towards you in an embrace. “Shh, breathe Farah,” you cooed, urging her to take a breath. You stroked her back as you held her, whispering words of comfort. That her sobs seemed to subside did nothing to quell the feeling of dismay within you. Something was wrong, very wrong , you thought. 

Without letting go of her, you spoke in a whisper, “What happened?” 

“They’re all dead.” She croaked. 

The statement made you struggle to keep panic at bay, “Who is, Farah?” Your voice shook. She drew a shaky breath.

“Aster Dell.” Fresh tears filled her eyes. 

Watching as you managed to draw yourself up by the bed seemed to pull Farah out of her shock. In one swift movement she stood, taking your hand to provide support as you both sat down on soft covers. You looked at her then. 

“Tell me?” Your voice was pleading. 

Drawing a deep breath, Farah started to recount the events of the day. With every aspect of it unfolding, fear grew deep within you. Shocked to learn that Rosalind had unlocked magic previously unknown, you surmised it came at a cost. 

“I think we all knew Rosalind has always had a particular talent for manipulation, but to say the town was evacuated?” You stared in disbelief. To hear that Saul, stubborn but wholeheartedly kind Saul, had been forced to take Andreas’ life in an attempt to stop Rosalind, to warn Farah, broke your heart. 

Farah stared before her with tearful eyes, and uttered in a small whisper, “So many lives lost. How can I ever make right the damage I’ve caused?” 

“You didn’t know, Farah. We all trusted Rosalind. We relied on her to guide us through this war.” You took Farah’s hands, gripping them fiercely between your own. “Don’t bear the full weight of this. Please. You are not responsible.” Your voice was pleading, desperate for her to understand.

You knew as you spoke the words that they fell on deaf ears. You understood it was easy to say, to be the person on the outside looking in. Farah would carry this burden for the rest of her life. She would let this dictate how she lived from this point on in an attempt to make amends.

Deciding it was pointless trying to convince her she was not to blame you took it upon yourself to ensure she was unharmed. A few bruises and cuts markred her beautiful skin but thankfully nothing severe. Nonetheless you spent some time caring for her, tending to her wounds as much as her grief. 

That night you lay in bed, unable to find sleep. Farah too was awake, undoubtedly going through the trauma of the day over and over. All you could do was stroke her back, whisper occasional words of affection and just be. As the hours crept by, you became increasingly convinced that Rosalind had ulterior motives. Stopping the burned ones was a means to an end. Whatever that end was, you knew that you did not want your child anywhere near her. 

In the days that followed, your group of friends grew increasingly concerned about Rosalind. The realisation that their mentor was not who she seemed to be shook them all to the core.  Rosalind had become gradually more secretive and impatient in her actions and towards the people around her. Rumours were spreading that she’d used magic on students in questioning them, threatening expulsion if they did not yield the information she wanted. Alfea itself, once a school with a splendid reputation, became stained by Rosalind’s wrath. She seemed impulsive, growing more desperate with each day. As time passed since the events of Aster Dell, your conviction that you did not know the whole truth only strengthened. Something else was going on, something that Rosalind did not want anyone else to know. 

Each day that passed you could feel the life within you growing and forming into something so much more than just a concept. With the growth of your child too came the clarity of your situation. To remain in the Otherworld had begun to feel like a noose hung before you awaiting your necks. Though neither you nor Farah had any real wish to leave the world you knew and loved so well behind you, you were beginning to understand that you would never truly find safety or peace whilst you remained. You could not, and would not, bring your child into a world where safety was a question rather than a certainty, and so a plan began to unfold between you. Once the child was born you would make your escape - anything to ensure that no harm would come to your little family.

Chapter Text

Sitting in the living room, a book perched on your lap, your concentration drifted to your increasing feelings of discomfort. There were aches in places you had previously been unaware of, muscles sore and swollen in a way that you hadn’t imagined possible until recently. Now well past the eight-month mark, you felt the pregnancy taking its toll. Unable to remain still, you gingerly rose to your feet. Every movement seemed slow, and you had to remind yourself that this was normal, no matter how frustrating your constant awareness of everything that you could not do was becoming.

Walking up the stairs and into the hallway you paused outside the guest room. Your eyes cast over the room slowly, falling upon two bags stacked neatly on top of each other. Your gaze remained fixed upon them for several moments, as though bringing some comfort to settle your mind. Soft rays of sunlight streamed through the large windows, and as you took in your surroundings you felt a twinge of regret at not being able to raise your child here. This warm and, above all, safe home which you’d built with Farah over the years had nestled itself deep within your heart and there was a pang of sorrow at the knowledge that soon you would have to leave it all behind. You had created so many fond memories here with Farah over the years: arguments over silly things in the kitchen; kisses shared as you snuggled in bed; each day that had passed as your child had grown within you and you had supported each other for when the day would finally come that you would be mothers. Each memory brought a smile to your face as you leant against the doorframe, only finding yourself pulled from your musings when you heard the entrance door shut downstairs. Farah was home and your smile only grew at the comfort that knowledge brought.

“Darling?” Farah called up the stairs.

“Up here!”

A moment later Farah stood behind you, a hand coming to rest at your stomach. Turning slightly, you place a soft kiss on her lips. “Hello.”

Farah hummed. “You know you shouldn’t be packing anymore.”

“I’m not, just looking.” You mused.

Farah brushed soft fingertips down the length of your arms, sighing. Taking your hand she led you down the stairs, close to your side as always, anxious about your safety. Sitting down once more on the sofa, Farah opened her mouth to speak, hesitating slightly. “I’m not sure this is of any significance,” she paused, biting her lip, “but Rosalind approached me today.”

“Oh?”

“She asked about you. She wanted to know when the baby is due.”

You frowned, slightly puzzled, “She hasn’t shown any interest before. The past few months she’s barely acknowledged me when we’ve crossed paths.”

Farah let out a heavy sigh, “Exactly. It may be nothing, but I have a feeling…”

You nodded in agreement, “The sooner we leave the better.”

Closing her eyes, she leaned close to place her forehead against yours. For several long moments you stayed perfectly still, taking comfort in the closeness between you, not quite ready to face reality just yet. If only you could remain in this little safe bubble forever.

-

Farah was cooking in the kitchen when it happened, a twinge in your lower abdomen.The pain began as an ache but quickly escalated into something stronger and more aggressive, as though your insides were trying to rip themselves apart. You let out an involuntary gasp in surprise. Farah did not miss it. She moved immediately to your side, concern apparent in her eyes, uttering your name in a careful whisper. You waved off her worry.

“It might be a mock contraction, I’ve had them a few times.”

Farah arched an eyebrow as she appraised you. “Mock contractions?” she turned, reaching for her phone, “I’m calling Ben.”

“Wait!” you said quickly, “Can’t we wait a bit? If it doesn’t happen again we’ll know it’s nothing to worry about. If it does then, well…”

Taking several moments to consider, Farah placed her phone back in her pocket, “Alright, but the moment I see you in pain…” she warned.

Giving her a smile, you nodded. Somewhere in the back of your mind you knew there was nothing “mock” about the pain you were feeling, yet you weren’t quite ready to voice it, not quite ready to have Ben fussing over you. If you were being honest with yourself, you weren’t quite ready to leave your life in Alfea behind.

Not even an hour passed before Farah had Ben on the phone. You stood in the kitchen, leaning against the counter, swaying gently from side to side until the pain passed. You didn’t quite hear what Farah was saying to Ben and hadn’t realised the conversation was done until her warm hand was on your back, “He’ll be here in a couple of hours, since your waters haven’t broken.”

You looked up at her, leaning into her arms, wanting to be close to her. She held you gently yet securely to herself, placing soft kisses to the side of your head, “I have been advised to draw you a warm bath. It might ease the pain for now.”

Leading you up the stairs she took slow steps, taking care to monitor you for more pain. You found the journey strenuous, taking several deep breaths and having to pause once or twice before finally reaching the top. Once in the en-suite bathroom, Farah let go of your hands to turn the taps, adjusting the water. She rolled up the sleeves of her grey satin blouse, shooting you a reassuring smile. As she moved around the room, you felt another contraction growing within you. “Farah.” You said in a low voice.

She moved swiftly to you, allowing you to lean into her, your head resting on her shoulder. As the pain grew you hummed a low moan. Farah stroked your back, whispered words of comfort in your ear. The contraction passed within the next minute and Farah started helping you out of your clothes, shedding each layer with gentle fingers. With each inch of exposed skin, she placed gentle kisses: on your shoulder, the top of your spine and each of your wrists. She took care to help you ease into the warm water. You let out a sigh of relief as the warmth enveloped you, lulling you into a sensation of ease. Farah pulled forth a stool, sitting down next to the bath and caressing your cheek. The adoration in her eyes as she considered you was all-encompassing and sincere. You felt a rush of gratitude towards her then, realising that you would not be the person you were now without her.

A few moments later, you let out a small laugh, “I don’t want to be naked when Ben arrives.”
Farah laughed too, and you realised with a twinge of regret that it had been a while since you’d heard that wonderful sound.

“I’ll make sure you won’t be.” She furrowed her brow, “You do realise you’ll have to be in some state of undress?”

You swatted her shoulder playfully, “I know! He’s still my friend, and there are some parts of me that are not for him to see.” Your eyes twinkled with mischief, “Those are for your eyes only.”

Farah grinned, “Indeed.” She leaned in and kissed you. It was languid, and you enjoyed the feeling of her lips upon yours, the soft caress of them acting as a welcome distraction from the continued stabs of pain that seemed to grow ever more insistent.

The birth passed in waves of pain, the ebb and flow reaching new peaks as it crashed into your body time after time. The sound of Ben’s voice seemed distant, as though in another dimension. Dimly, you were aware of Farah’s touches, her soft hands caressing your cheek, stroking your arms. She applied a damp washcloth to your brow, placing kisses there as she did. Your sole focus was upon listening to your body, instinct telling you what to do.

At one point exhaustion threatened to take you, giving you pause. Then Farah’s voice spoke softly in your ear, her hand on your knee as she sat next to you on the bed, “You’re almost there, my love. A few more pushes, now. You’re doing so well.”

Your breath came in ragged pants. The pain started steadily, mounting as your body communicated what to do. Ben echoed Farah’s words. Almost there.

With a wave of newfound vigour, you pushed. The pain of it was worse than you had ever felt, surely this was nearing its end. Your mind could not form coherent thought, so consumed by it all. Thankfully though, the moment you felt as though you had no strength left the pain left your body.

Your daughter was born in a flurry of sound, her piercing cries bursting through the silence of the room. Sights and sounds that had a mere moment ago been muted through your perspective returned. You heard yourself crying, tears of joy rolling down your cheeks as you extended your arms for her. As Ben placed her into your arms, you felt emotion as you had never dreamed of before. Love and happiness overwhelmed you as you looked down at the little face staring up at you.

Turning your head, you noticed Farah crying too, her hand reaching out to carefully stroke her daughter’s cheek. She met your gaze then and leaned in to place a soft kiss on your lips, “She’s so beautiful. And I’m so very proud of you, my darling love.” She whispered and shifted her gaze to admire her newborn daughter. Her head leaned to rest on your shoulder, and in that moment, you felt the earth still. Nothing but the three of you mattered in this world. Looking down at the little girl in your arms, you took time to truly consider her. Still marred by birth, her skin was bloodied and her hair sticky. It didn’t matter. Her blue eyes gazed curiously up at you and her delicate little lips parted in a silent greeting.

Farah, whose hand was still caressing the baby’s cheek said, “We are so, so, happy to meet you, little love.” Farah’s term of endearment warmed your chest and the small sounds coming from your daughter convinced you that she too approved.

Ben cleaned the mess of the birth in a matter of minutes and the room looked almost as pristine as it always did. You felt refreshed with a change of clothes, the pain of the birth a distant memory. Farah had taken your daughter to get her cleaned up and dress her, speaking to her in soft tones as she went.

A mere hour later you sat in bed, Farah at your side, reverently gazing at your daughter as she nursed. Farah let out a small chuckle at the sound of the little noises escaping the tiny girl, “What do we call you, little love?”

You smiled, there was a name you had thought of weeks ago, but it wasn’t until now that you realised it may be perfect. “What do you think of Faye?”

You looked over at Farah, whose eyes were brimming with tears. “Perfect,” she whispered, placing a kiss on your lips.

Abruptly an ear shattering crash shook the house. In bewilderment you thought of Ben who was downstairs, insisting on monitoring you throughout the night. Farah shot up from the bed as Faye let out several piercing cries. The sound of heavy footfalls approached, running up the stairs two steps at the time. The next moment Saul appeared in the doorframe looking flustered.

“She’s on her way.” He managed between gulps of air.

“Rosalind?” Farah inquired.

Saul nodded. “I think she…” he hesitated, looking over at you as you attempted to soothe Faye. “She’s coming for the child.”

You felt as though a weight of lead was dropped on your chest, terror rising within you with each breath. “Why?” Your mouth ran dry as you spoke.

Saul shifted, looking anxious. “She seems convinced the baby is the key to unlocking ancient magic. There’s no logic to any of it - she seems unhinged.”

A thousand questions tumbled into your mind but you pushed them out of the way. “Farah, take her and go.”

Farah looked at you, thunderstruck. “I’m not-”

“I am in no state to escape, let alone leave this bed. Please, do as I ask, for our daughter.” Hot tears ran down your cheeks.

Farah sunk onto the bed; she parted her lips to speak but found herself unable to form words. She leaned towards you, her forehead touching yours. “It’s an impossible choice, my love.” As she pulled away slightly, there was a look in her eye from which you understood she’d accepted your request. In the depths of her hazel eyes you saw so much: the eternal love she held for you yet coupled with unending despair brought on by your current situation. The mere notion of being parted was gut wrenching, but this was the only option. You would both make any sacrifice necessary for Faye; she was all that mattered now.

Farah moved with frantic urgency, packing a bag and several other supplies.

“Saul? Guard them with your life.” You knew it was a grand request, but you also knew he could keep them safe.

His eyes narrowed in worry, “What about you?”

“They must be the priority.” You said, an air of determination to your voice.

He nodded, “I will keep them safe; you have my word.” You felt a rush of gratitude towards him, knowing he would do anything in his power to protect them.

You wanted to spend the remaining time trying to memorise as much about Faye as you could, certain that being parted from her would tear your very soul apart. How could this little creature you’d only just met matter so much? Her bright blue eyes, the tiny fists held against her chest, the wisps of red hair on top of her tiny head. You would memorise it all and keep it locked away in your heart until you were reunited.

A loud bang sounded from downstairs, larger by far than before.

“She’s here!” Ben shouted up the stairs.

Farah ran into the room, positioning herself in front of you, eyes glowing pale blue. Saul knocked the quiver and drew his bow.

Everything happened in a flash of light, shouts bouncing off the walls, piercing your eardrums. With horror you realised they were too many; soldiers spilled into the room one after another, stepping over their fallen comrades with little regard for their loss. Saul and Farah fought valiantly within the confines of the bedroom walls. Farah’s magic illuminated the room, crashing against soldiers in a ball of fury. In close combat Saul triumphed, knives slashing effortlessly in each of his hands. It was no use, however. Rosalind must have known they would not relent easily, perhaps even not at all. In a flash of blinding light Saul was subdued and Farah pinned to the wall.

You cried helplessly as you sat, clutching your daughter close to your chest. Rosalind stepped out from behind one of her soldiers, smiling that sickeningly sweet smile that she always favoured, magic evident in her gaze. “Congratulations on the birth of a healthy daughter.”

You didn’t respond, frozen in place.

She circled your bed, sitting down on the edge. You could hear Farah’s gasps of pain and it twisted your insides to see her struggling to free herself. Rosalind leaned over you then and you tried desperately to make your body move. It was futile; completely drained by labour you had no strength left in your body. Rosalind watched you in your attempts, sickening mirth dancing in her eyes. Finally, with surprising strength, she pried the infant out of your arms.

“Rosalind, please…” you begged. Faye let out a heart wrenching wail.

Taking the child in her arms, Rosalind gave a conceited smile. “Don’t worry, I’ll see to it that she’s properly taken care of.” But you couldn’t just let her go so easily and as she walked away you made a last desperate effort. Drawing upon strength you had previously believed impossible you rose from the bed and stood on trembling legs.

“Rosalind, I beg you Please don’t take her from us. I’ll do anything! Anything!” The headmistress appraised you for a moment, as though considering your desperate plea, but without another word she turned and left the room.

Anguish unlike any you had ever felt crashed into you with such force that it knocked you to your knees. You felt wetness between your legs and, upon looking down, you saw blood trickle down your thighs and onto the floor. You couldn’t find it within you to care, your body and soul consumed by a numbness that seemed immovable.. Perhaps it was the loss of blood or the immense distress, but with the next intake of breath it was as though the world slipped away and left you plummeting into darkness.

Chapter Text

NOW

As Bloom Peters stepped through the boundary and onto the grounds of Alfea, the very air around her shifted. Her mere presence stirred a force that had not been witnessed in the Otherworld for sixteen years. 

Alfea College had always been pristine; heavy stone walls adorned with glass-stained windows made the school a sight to behold, like something from a storybook to those who had never witnessed its grandeur. Finally recovered from the painful history with Rosalind Hale at the helm, the school was once more restored to its former glory. Much of the credit  for the school’s recovery had to be attributed to the Headmistress Farah Dowling and Headmaster Saul Silva. The original trio who had worked under Headmistress Hale had vowed to remove the taint of  her rule from Alfea and continue the work of educating the future of the Otherworld. Rosalind, in stasis for her actions at and after Aster Dell, seemed a distant memory of the horrors past. 

There was, however, one secret about Alfea that few knew. At the conclusion of the war an addition had been made to the walls of Alfea; an extended wing of rooms were built that branched out from the school, restricted to all but the trio themselves. It had existed for the past sixteen years and none questioned nor knew of its use. 

All but one room remained in darkness. Said room was dimly lit, adjusted to simulate the first rays of sun in the morning. Nothing out of the ordinary set the room apart: a bed and nightstand stood in the centre; A single chair stood facing the bed looking worn, as though it had been occupied often; at the nightstand stood a bouquet of fresh white roses, a small note in slanted handwriting with the words, “my love” written upon it nestled amongst them. In the bed lay a limp form, chest rising and falling with each breath. She was alive, yet not - unable to move or speak. Limbs that had not shifted in many years lay still under the cover of soft blankets. Care had been taken in her appearance and it looked as though she was merely sleeping. 

In the moment that Bloom Peters stepped foot onto the grounds of Alfea, the still figure moved. To the unobservant it would have gone unnoticed. Slender fingers twitched as the air around the grounds of Alfea shifted in response to new magic. Something was changing.

-

Headmistress Farah Dowling sat behind the desk in her office sifting through the profiles of new students. Sunlight penetrated the stained-glass windows behind her desk to cast rays of colour throughout the room. Losing concentration, her eyes fell upon the tattoo around her index finger, and she absentmindedly ran her thumb over the greying lines. Slumping back into the chair, her mind started wandering. 

Over the years that had passed, Farah’s sole focus had been upon setting right the wrong that had been inflicted. The part that she played in the destruction of Aster Dell could never be undone. Her failures in protecting her love and daughter never ceased to haunt her. Every day her mind drifted to who her daughter might have been had her life not been taken so prematurely by Rosalind. Every day she thought of her love, how much she wished she could be there by her side. There was so much loss, so much pain, that Farah often felt overwhelmed. When she became headmistress, she made the decision to become a figurehead, to project strength. The admission of mistakes would invite uncertainty, and uncertainty was the one thing she could not afford. Thus, she built walls around herself to be the teacher and headmistress her students required. None could deny its effect on Alfea. 

Her reverie was broken by the knock at the door, her assistant Callum peeked his head into the room, “Your 1 o’clock is here, Ms Dowling.” 

“Thank you, Callum. Show her through.” Her eyes fell upon the file before her, a name at the top of the page, Bloom Peters. Farah let out a sigh, the complication of it causing a dull ache in her head. She was the changeling, the girl who no one knew anything about. She’d have to tread carefully. The sound of footfalls caused her to look up, and with a jolt she felt a twinge of familiarity looking at her, though she couldn’t quite place why. Pushing the feeling away, she smiled, “Hello, Bloom.” 

The girl stood timidly before her, looking uneasy as her eyes flitted around the room nervously. Farah gestured for her to take a seat,her hands in her lap and her knee bouncing up and down. 

“You’ll start with the basics. Learn to use your magic slowly but safely.” Picking up a pen, she turned the page of Bloom’s file.

Bloom looked hesitant, “When you say slowly…”

“I mean it. Magic can be dangerous as you well know.” Her voice softened slightly at that, aware of the accident that had led her to Alfea. 

At that Bloom looked away, unease settling over her. Farah resumed telling her about Alfea, her proud voice talking about the school’s graduates and their triumphs. She spoke as though she wanted to convey the importance of learning to control one’s magic, and she noticed Bloom’s attention sharpening with every word, “They shape the Otherworld.” She concluded. Farah sat back in her chair, arms gesturing to the walls around her, “If you succeed here, you will too.”

Bloom left for her dormitory, and Farah sat in her high-backed chair feeling puzzled. Why did this girl seem so familiar , she wondered. With a sigh, Farah swept the thought away, attributing it to mere coincidence, resuming her reading. 

-

From the moment Farah had met Bloom on her first day she had decided she wanted to keep a close eye on the girl. The desire to do so did not diminish at the increasing number of unsettling events unfolding at her school. Now, as Farah stood gazing at the bloodied body of a farmer just at the perimeter of the school, she felt even more certain about her need to keep an eye on Bloom. 

Saul stood next to her, his arms crossed, “It’s fresh.”

“Maybe a wolf?” Farah guessed, afraid to see the truth of it.

“Or a bear.” Saul added as his eyes flitted to hers for a moment. “Could’ve gone out to protect his herd, got surprised…” he mused, though sounding unconvinced. 

Ben approached the limp form, his gaze moving methodically over it, “I’m happy to continue the guessing game, but-” his words were cut off as he bent to the corpse, removing a thick oily residue from a gash in the victim’s skin, letting out a sigh, “This is charr residue.” He held out his blade for the others to see. 

Saul’s worried gaze flitted to Farah who felt a wave of unease wash over her though she managed to maintain a stoic expression, still shifting slightly on the spot.

“How long since the last sighting?” Saul inquired.

Ben stood, “About two decades.”

“Sixteen years.” Farah spoke over Ben, “Rosalind was relentless.” 

“It could’ve been hiding in the mountains-” Saul started to add.

“She killed all the burned ones.” Farah’s voice grew unsteady with the mounting dread.

Turning towards them, Ben added, “We thought she did.”

“Ben, what we think is irrelevant.” Her voice was urgent now, “The barrier is doing its job.” Farah appraised her colleagues for a few moments, fixing them with a meaningful look, “Until we know something for sure let’s clean this up before gossip starts.” Hands buried deep within the pockets of her pale blue coat, she turned, leaving Ben and Saul in silence. 

This was the most important part of Farah’s job as headmistress, maintaining calm. Panic would only make things worse and she would do anything in her power to prevent her school from succumbing to chaos. Nevertheless she had to admit to herself that something about this did not sit quite right. Farah didn’t believe in coincidences and the notion that Burned Ones had returned at the start of the new school year, almost exactly in line with the arrival of Bloom Peters… Whilst she in no way thought the young girl had anything to do with their return, Farah was finding it hard to believe that none of this wasn’t connected. On top of everything else, the reemergence of the Burned Ones was now dragging up thoughts of Rosalind. The mere recollection of her name now had Farah entirely on edge; her former mentor had wrought havoc upon her life that could never be restored, and for that Farah would never forgive her. 

-

Out on the school grounds Bloom stood alone, growing increasingly frustrated as she sought after even a spark of her magic. Staring at the palm of her hand expectantly, she felt disappointment wash over her as nothing happened. She withdrew her phone from her pocket and, for the hundredth time, she started scrolling through the photos of when she last accessed her magic outside of Alfea. Each image was more horrific than the last: the charred shelving over her parents’ bed; destroyed carpets and rugs from the floor; the bed itself, once devoured by flames, now barely recognisable as a bed at all.  A wave of despair rose within her and she felt magic close at her fingertips. She summoned the flame to her with little effort, letting the mounting feelings of anguish take hold of her. 

Elsewhere in the grounds of Alfea, within the walls of the dimly lit room, the closed eyes of the woman in the bed started to flit back and forth. In tandem with the growth of Bloom’s flame, so grew the woman’s movements. The twitch of her hand alerted Ben who, having just entered the room, almost dropped the monitoring equipment that he was carrying in shock. With bated breath he watched her.  For a moment she was still, so still that Ben had almost convinced himself that he had imagined it, then all at once he watched as her head rolled from side to side as though she was dreaming. 

Ben had cared for this patient for sixteen years and never had he observed any sign of life other than her steady breathing. Lowering himself into the chair facing her he absently withdrew his phone from his pocket. With his gaze flicking between the screen of his phone and his patient his fingers moved quickly across the screen, writing a message to the headmistress.

-

Within the confines of her office walls Farah was unable to shake her growing feelings of alarm. Pouring herself a cup of tea she raised her palm, letting her magic flow freely from her. As she did the door to her office swung shut with a heavy thud. Leaving her tea she rose, once again drawing upon her magic to open the hidden passage into the dungeons. She just had to make sure that Rosalind was still there if only to set her own mind at ease. 

Heart hammering in her chest, Farah took hurried steps down the stairs. She felt it before she saw it; a layer of glimmering magic obscured Rosalind slightly from view but there stood Headmistress Hale’s magical prison, as strong and reliable as ever. Her face looked oddly peaceful behind the barrier of stasis, yet Farah felt anger bubble within her at the sight. She turned to leave, reassured that Rosalind was still where she belonged. 

Sat behind her desk once more, Farah’s phone vibrated on the wooden surface of her desk, drawing her attention. It was Ben: ‘Restricted wing, now.’ Farah blinked several times as she read the message. The familiar feeling of dread settled in her stomach once more. Was something wrong? 

Chapter Text

It felt as though Farah could feel her heartbeat in her throat as she stood outside the door to your room. Ben’s text had been so vague and the terror of what she might come to face once she pushed past that door was almost too much to handle. She was not a woman of belief by any stretch of the imagination, but in her heart she prayed to any God that would listen that you hadn’t given up on her and left her here alone.

A deep breath. Farah steeled herself for what was to come. Pushing open the door, the room opened up to a scene that had become far too familiar to her eyes, and yet it was altered from that which had become the norm. The room lay as it had always been: the bed was neatly made over your limp form, the nightstand at its side holding the roses that Farah had brought for you only a day prior. The chair that she had spent many an evening sitting in, holding your hand and telling you about her day, still stood facing the bed in its usual position. The difference was in Ben. He was bent over you, checking your temperature, your pulse, anything that he could think to check. His movements were sharp and rushed and Farah felt her heart constrict uncomfortably at the harried look in his eyes. Around the flowers on the nightstand lay plants and vials of a multitude of substances, some open whilst others remained corked.

“Ben, what’s going on?” As though finally collecting her thoughts, Farah pushed from the doorway into the room, hurrying to your side on the opposite side of the bed to Ben. Almost instinctually she laced her fingers with yours, pulling your hand to herself as though you could receive any comfort from it in your current state. In truth she was seeking the comfort of your touch for herself.

“She moved. She moved Farah.” There was almost panic in Ben’s voice as he looked at Farah in earnest. “I haven’t seen so much as a twitch of a muscle from her in sixteen years and now… I don’t understand. Nothing else has changed.”

To Farah, it felt as though time stood still. She looked down at you, right now still laying motionless in your bed. Farah’s lips parted as though to speak but no words seemed to come. She had refused to admit it, but after all of these years a small part of her that she kept locked away deep inside had begun to wonder if it would be kinder to let you go. She never could have done it, of course. She was too stubborn, too selfish, to dream of accepting that perhaps she would never get you back.

“She moved?” she asked softly, a tremor in her voice when she spoke.

“As though she were only sleeping. Her fingers twitched. She turned her head. She’s in there Farah; she has to be.”

Hope seemed to grip at Farah’s heart for the first time in a very long time and she found herself dropping to her knees at the side of the bed. Lifting your hand, still entangled with her own, to her lips she pressed a kiss to your wrist, then your knuckles. Tears threatened at the corners of her eyes but she refused to let them fall. Not in front of Ben. Perhaps later, in the dark of night when you were alone as you always were then. For now she simply whispered into your skin.

“I’m here, my love. I’ve got you. I’ll find a way to bring you back to me.”

She hadn’t expected it, but as the last word left her lips your hand squeezed tightly around her own and Farah felt a wave of emotion envelop her. Her resolve shattered in that moment and the tears she had been so valiantly holding back broke loose from their imprisonment, running freely down her cheeks.

-

Bloom pulled the picture of herself and her parents towards herself, a thousand memories flooding her mind. Not all of them were happy, but so many were. She was struggling to comprehend the reality of it all. She was a changeling. These weren’t her parents, and yet they had raised her, loved her. She had hurt them beyond measure and still they loved her.

“Is that your family?” Bloom startled as Stella’s steps grew closer, her heels clicking on the floor with each step. That was certainly the question that Bloom was now asking herself - were they really her family? “I get homesick too sometimes.” Stella continued, reaching out a hand to take the picture from Bloom’s own. She looked at it for a moment. “My mum… honestly, if she didn’t force me to go here, I wouldn’t. I’d live at home, go to school, just have a normal life. You know there’s no shame in that - no shame in wanting to be home.”

In truth, Bloom didn’t know what to think. A part of her did want to be home, to live her life, to forget everything that she had learned about fairies and magic and changelings. Everything was so much simpler before. So she and her mum had fought, that was normal. She had been normal… until she wasn’t.

“If you want,” Stella continued after a pause, handing the picture back to Bloom, “you could borrow my ring. You may have to go a little way past the barrier, but there’s a gateway in the old cemetery that can take you back home.”

“You… you wouldn’t mind?”

“Not so long as you get my ring back to me safe and sound.” Stella smiled slightly, slipping the ring from her finger and holding it out before her. “A visit home could do you good.”

-

Farah’s mind was racing as she made her way back to her office, the possibilities of what this change in your condition could mean pulling her in every direction. She hadn’t wanted to leave you at all; she had told Ben as much as he ushered her out of the room, insisting that he needed time and space to run more tests on you and assuring her that he would call should anything change. All Farah wanted was to stay by your side, unable to bear the thought of you waking up there without her.

“Headmistress Dowling, you have to come quickly! We think Bloom might be in danger.”

It wasn’t until she heard Aisha calling to her that she realised that three of the girls were running towards her, all seeming winded as they came. At first the words didn’t register, her mind already far too crowded to take in any new information. It wasn’t until Bloom’s name came into it that her mind focussed enough to take in Aisha’s words.

“What happened?”

“Stella gave Bloom her ring, the one that…”

“I know what it does.” Perhaps her voice had been a little too sharp there but at present Farah had too much going on to be patient. “Where is she?”

“She used the gateway in the old cemetery to go home to the First World.”

The gateway in the old cemetery was a long way out, Farah knew. It was so far past the barrier that there was no telling what could have happened with none of them any the wiser. Cursing under her breath she thanked the girls curtly, almost pushing past them as she ran in the direction that Bloom must have gone in earlier that evening.

It still puzzled Farah that in such a short period of time Bloom had become such a pressing concern for her. She cared for all of her students of course, discouraging any form of favouritism from all her staff. She wanted each and every one of her students to be safe and happy, and to thrive in their time under her care. Bloom was different though; the girl carried an air of familiarity with her that Farah couldn’t shake, and it scared her a little that she felt as protective of the fire fairy as she did.

Crossing the barrier Farah pulled herself from her thoughts, it would do no good to anyone should her distraction lead to her own death as well as Bloom’s. She climbed over tree roots and dodged branches as she found the shortest route to the cemetery that she could. As she went, Farah allowed her magic to consume her, pushing it out into the air around her to scan for signs of any hostile life: Burned One or otherwise. For a long while there was nothing, no sign of threat at all, and she began to wonder if the girls had been concerned for nothing. It wasn’t until Farah reached the gateway that she heard it.

Amplified by her magic, Farah could hear the growls of the Burned One just beyond the open door. She approached slowly, knowing that she had no back up here and that catching the creature unaware was her one hope of overpowering it. Under normal circumstances she should have called for Saul at the very least, but there had been no time.

Hadn’t they thought that this part of their life had been left behind them? Sixteen years since the last sighting of a Burned One. The one good thing that had come out of Rosalind’s manipulations and cruelties had been their extinction - the bitch couldn’t even do that right. Just the thought of Rosalind had rage rolling in Farah’s gut, a merciless fire ready to destroy anything in its path. She held onto the emotion - it could be of use.

Pushing past the door Farah found herself in what appeared to be an abandoned warehouse, and a familiar one at that. This was where she had found Bloom not so long ago, frightened and heartbroken, confused about how she had done what she did to her family. The ache in Farah’s heart joined the rage in her stomach; the girl didn’t deserve the suffering that had been inflicted upon her. Farah wasn’t about to let a Burned One do even more damage than had already been done.

She was just trying to hone in on the exact location of the Burned One when a cacophony of sound seemed to expel itself from the walls themselves. Hurried footsteps were followed by growls and roars and then out of nowhere Bloom seemed to fly into the room, her eyes wide with terror. She came to a halt right before Farah, a flash of confusion crossing her features.

“Don’t stop now,” Farah urged, pointing towards the door that she herself had just entered through.

The creature dropped from the ceiling above and Farah turned her full attention to it, eyes glaring white as she sent it flying back with one hand, the other closing Bloom and the Other World out so as to contain the threat. A gnarled arm clawed at where her head had been as she ducked, trying to back it into a corner to stop it moving so much; she would need it still if she were to isolate what was left of its mind and bring it to heel.

She knew she should kill the thing - it was a threat, that much was glaringly obvious. Despite knowing better though, Farah had to keep it alive. What if this wasn’t the only one? What if Rosalind’s attempts to wipe the Burned Ones out had not only failed but had in reality barely scratched the surface? No, they needed to know for sure and the only way to do that would be to read this one for clues to the scale of the problem.

Though it took some manoeuvring and several near misses with one claw or another Farah somehow managed to get it into a corner. She channelled her rage at Rosalind and the pain that she felt for Bloom and her situation, focussing the emotions on one thought - calm its mind. It wasn’t an easy task but the emotions she was channelling were strong and after a moment the Burned One almost went limp before her, still upright but compliant. There was a shed in the forest that she could take it to; a few chains and some Zanbag oil ought to be enough to keep it contained until she could speak with Saul.

-

As expected, Saul didn’t understand the decision that Farah had made. As far as he was concerned the Burned One that she found should be dead. Though they had been discussing it for some time now he still wasn’t shifting on the matter. He didn’t understand that she feared there was more to this than they were seeing thus far. How could there not be when all of this had started the moment that Farah had brought Bloom back to Alfea?

“I found a changeling in the first world.” Saul gaped at her, letting out a deep breath.

“A changeling?” He shook his head in disbelief. “I’ve not heard of one of those in centuries.”

“Yet there she was,” Farah trailed off momentarily, “left sixteen years ago, right around the time the last Burned One was spotted.”

Saul’s gaze flitted anxiously, as though connecting the dots. “You think it’s all connected.”

Farah took a breath, trying to convince herself that she was losing her mind but knowing that there was a chance that she was right. “I’m struggling, Saul.” she admitted. “Rosalind kept so much from us.”

Saul could read between the lines of what Farah had said. This wasn’t only about the Burned Ones, nor the changeling. All of this was tied up in matters that were far more personal for Farah and he could almost feel her pain as she looked to him for support.

“I’m worried about the students. The Alfea they know is very different from the one we attended.” She paused. “They have so much life to experience. Even if this world were safe, what they’re going through can feel impossible. But this world isn’t safe, and I don’t know how long we’ll be able to protect them from it.” Farah looked to Saul then, “I know you feel it.” she hesitated, “the…shift. They’ve had order for so long they don’t know what chaos feels like.”

As she turned to face the window once more Saul uttered: “they might soon.”

A silence fell between them for a moment until Saul’s hand came to rest on Farah’s arm, squeezing it gently. She looked at him with wide eyes, the myriad of emotions that she had gone through that evening finally catching up to her.

“Ben told me what happened in the restricted wing…” A bitter breath of laughter fell from Farah’s lips and she covered her face with her hands.

“Why now?” She asked. “Why, after all this time, does she finally start showing signs of life when everything seems to be falling apart?”

Saul smiled tightly, sighing as he spoke. “To give you hope when you most need it?”

“Hope… How am I to feel hope when we face a new threat from the Burned Ones, the woman I love most in this world seems to be hanging in a state of limbo that I still can’t break her from and Bloom…” Her voice trailed off as she looked down at her hands.

“Bloom?”

“She’s just the same age as Faye would have been.” Farah’s voice broke at the admission and Saul ran his hand down her arm to take hold of her own hand. “I can’t help but want to protect her… I can’t let another innocent child…”

It was too much. It was all too much and despite herself Farah found herself crumpling into Saul’s arms as he held her.

“I know,” he hushed her, patting her back with as much care as he could. There were no words that he could offer to mend her broken heart so he simply held her, trying to hold the broken pieces together as best he could.

Chapter Text

Lessons with the first years were always one of Farah’s favourite parts of a new year, however she was struggling to find the same enjoyment having watched Bloom struggle so much in the stone circle just moments ago. The following conversation where she had been challenged on her lies by omission did not help her mood much. She knew that she had been wrong to keep the truth from Bloom, and yet in her heart it had still felt right to protect her. Farah knew the pain of losing her own child, she hadn’t wanted to watch Bloom go through the pain of losing two sets of parents - one known and one unknown - all at once. 

As Farah made her way back through the grounds of Alfea she made sure to take the route past the specialist training ground; she felt that she needed comfort today, and nothing brought more comfort to her than feeling closer to you. While it had been more than sixteen years since she saw you fight on the training grounds, watching the others reminded her of you, though few could truly compare. As she watched, Farah caught sight of a female specialist bringing a male opponent to the ground in a way that was almost reminiscent of you. Seeing it made her grin, a wave of satisfaction washing over her. 

A memory was called to mind. In the early days after the end of your education at Alfea Farah had often found excuses to stray from her path to wander past the training grounds and watch you. One summer she remembered pausing mid step as she watched you and Saul sparring. The two of you had opted for real blades in place of training swords and her mouth had gone dry at the way that you handled the weapon with such ease, spinning it around you as though it posed no danger at all. Each time you hit out at Saul he appeared to only just stop your attack, clearly struggling to keep up with you. At your last hit you caught his heel with your own toe, sweeping his legs out from beneath him and pinning him to the ground with a foot on his chest and your blade at his throat. Farah hadn’t thought that you had known she was there but as Saul had held his hands up in surrender she had heard your voice projecting into her mind as though you had willed it so: “are you impressed enough to let me buy you dinner?” 

Shaking the memory from her mind Farah continued upon the gravel path, winding around the training ground and into the forest away from prying eyes. She entered the restricted wing without pause, the desire to be close to you growing with each step. The hollow feeling that had settled in the pit of her stomach during her conversation with Bloom was gnawing away at her with every passing moment. Just feeling closer to you would not be enough today - she needed to see you.. Even in your current state, it was only ever you that she would go to in her times of need. 

Entering the familiar room, Farah’s eyes fell upon your still form as she removed her coat, flinging it onto the chair. Stepping closer, she took your hand and whispered, “hello, my love.” She leaned down and placed a kiss on your forehead. Farah sat down in the chair, still holding your hand firmly between her own. She spoke then, telling you about the young girl that seemed to take so much of her attention, and the increasing need to protect her. She told you of the strange desire she had to take Bloom into her arms and tell her it would be alright. In her mind she could almost hear your voice telling her that often feelings spoke more truth than words; that perhaps her emotions were trying to tell her something. She quickly shook the notion away, certain that she was trying to convince herself that there was something more going on with Bloom than she could yet see.

“I wish you were here.” Farah croaked, feeling overwhelmed by emotion as she so often did in these moments alone with you. She gave a start as she felt your hand squeeze between her own, and her eyes shot up to your face. Your own eyes remained closed, but seemed to flit back and forth behind your eyelids. At that moment, the door swung open and Ben appeared.

“Ben.” Farah breathed, fixing him with a surprised stare.

He walked around the bed to his monitoring equipment before asking. “She moved?”

Farah swallowed. “Yes, she squeezed my hand.” 

Ben didn’t respond, merely looked upon the chart now held in his hand. “She seems to be improving.” he mumbled, as though it wasn’t the most significant news in the world to Farah. 

“She’s improving?” Farah rose from her chair without dropping your hand. 

“Increasing movements. Significantly increased brain activity..” Ben paused in his listing from the chart he held in his hands, frowning slightly at a specific line on the chart.”Did anything else happen just a short while ago?”  Farah racked her brain but could think of nothing but the squeezing of her hand. Beyond imaginings of your supportive words in her mind, what more could have happened?

Ben’s frown deepened but he nodded absently. Clearly he was thinking something but at present he didn’t seem inclined to share. Ben was a dear friend and Farah cared for him deeply but she did so hate when he reverted into his mind like that. Were it not such an invasion of privacy she would push into his head and see what he was thinking for herself. As it was she was unwilling to do so and instead snapped, “Ben!”  

He looked up abruptly. “Sorry,” he smiled meekly, “I can say she’s improving. What I can’t say is when or if she’ll wake up.” At Farah’s look of dismay he quickly added, “in my professional opinion I think it’s more likely she’ll wake up than not.” 

Though a mere sliver of hope, Farah took it. You had indeed shown more improvements over the last couple of weeks than you had done for the previous sixteen years. It was enough to make Farah believe. 

She remained as Ben worked, adding notes to his charts, adjusting the varied coloured wires that ran from your body. When he finally left, Farah was left alone with you. Gazing upon your face, she leaned down and cupped your cheeks, placing a featherlight kiss to your lips. “Come back to me.”

As Farah rose once more, she grasped your hand and was only a little surprised as it squeezed hers in return. Farah felt certain in your response and she left the room feeling more elated than she had felt in a very long time. 

- 

By the time that Farah had made it home that evening she felt as though every iota of energy had been sapped from her body. The start to the year had already drained her. Between the issue of the Burned Ones, her worries concerning Bloom and the changes in your condition it felt as though every waking hour had her mind working in overdrive. Exhaustion had embedded itself in the very marrow of her bones but, as she finally found her way to bed, the relief that she experienced as she sank into the mattress was only brief. 

It still felt wrong to sleep in the bed you had shared without you. Sixteen years may have passed but the emptiness beside her still haunted Farah’s dreams. More often than not she would end up relocating to the sofa by the fire - the memories of you less potent there, though they still remained ever present. It allowed her to find rest at least, if only for a short while. 

Tonight was no different to those that had preceded it. Though Farah made a valiant effort to stay in bed, rest simply would not find her there. After moving to the sofa she buried herself amongst cushions and blankets, closing her eyes tightly and willing sleep to come. 

-

Farah stood, watching the sunlight drift through the window. A vision of green meadows offered a spectacular view and she knew at once where she was. A familiar warmth settled in her body, a feeling of being home. Her gaze travelled to the cot that stood against the wall, and the small sleeping form within. 

To Farah the child looked about two years old. Instinctually, she reached out and stroked her daughter’s cheek, as if to wake her. “Hello, little love.” 

Faye stirred, her eyes slowly blinking open. Farah’s hand came to rest on Faye’s round belly, her thumb stroking soothing circles. “Time to get up, sweetheart.” 

How did she know that?

Her eyes now alert, Faye stretched her arms out to Farah, who immediately bundled her up in a warm embrace. The girl slumped against her, completely relaxed and safe in her mother’s arms. Her head lay against her shoulder and Farah used her free hand to stroke up and down her daughter’s back. Settling into the rocking chair, Faye now lay in the crook of Farah’s arm, her eyes gazing intently up at her. For several wonderful moments Farah was consumed by her daughter, whispering soft words of comfort, spending time caressing her cheek and swiping a thumb over her tiny eyebrow. It felt as though this must have been the most wonderful thing in the world.

“It’s been two hours already?” your soft voice drifted through the doorway. 

The sound took her breath for a second, though Farah couldn’t explain why. “Hm?” she responded, unsure of what you were asking.

You moved into the room, kneeling beside the chair, your fingers stroking Faye’s cheek. “I didn’t realise it was time to wake her from her nap.”

Farah didn’t reply, but dared to turn her head towards you, as if to make sure you were real. Your eyes met hers and Farah let out a sigh of relief as she dropped her forehead to yours. As you slightly drew away from her Farah leaned in to place a slow kiss to your lips.

You hummed. “Imagine, this could’ve been our life.”

Farah blinked, confused. Could have been? “Pardon?”

Caressing her cheek, you chuckled. “I said, imagine, this is our life.” 

Slowly the scene shifted to darkness. 

The darkness grew hazy, turning grey then white. A warm orange glow intensified through the lightness and before Farah the image of the living room of your home materialised. The place hadn’t seemed this homely in nearing two decades since everything that happened. Wait. All of those terrible things that happened - she remembered now. This couldn’t be real. Was she dreaming? 

As she looked around her, Farah noted things that seemed out of place from the room she knew she had closed her eyes in not so long ago. Your sword, which Farah knew to be by your side of the bed, was propped up by the door as it used to be after you came home from a long day of training and couldn’t bear to carry it any further. Through the doorway to the kitchen she could see a mess of dishes that had seemingly been forgotten half way through the process of being washed. The coat rack by the door, however, was the most jarring change of all; where her own two or three coats usually rested there was now barely room to hang anything else. Some of the contents of the coat rack were still clearly hers, some resembled coats that you had worn over the years, but there were others that could not have belonged to either of you. Delicate little coats, as though they belonged to a child-sized doll, were hung in amongst the mess of fabric. Some were tasteful in colour and design, clearly chosen by an adult, whilst others were those awful, gaudy, pink numbers that only an exuberant child could have selected. 

Farah’s breath caught in her throat as she took in her surroundings. It wasn’t possible.

“Faye, you need to hurry up or Mummy and I will be late!” Your voice echoed from somewhere out of sight. Farah felt tears welling in her eyes. This had to be a dream. The sound of your voice calling your daughter’s name - referring to Farah herself as ‘Mummy’ - she thought she would break just hearing it. 

Glancing over to the stairs she listened as a cacophony of little foot falls approached the summit. Reaching the top, the foot falls paused. There was a ruffle of clothing quickly followed by the sound of something slowly sliding down the steps one at a time. As Faye reached the last step and stood from where she had slid down on her bottom, Farah’s heart almost shattered. 

She was such a delicate little thing, all red curls and rosy cheeks. To look at her Farah thought she could be no more than four years old, yet she was so much bigger than Farah remembered. Careful little hands straightened the green skirt that Faye wore over her white jumper. The little girl reached up to her hair, ensuring that her little curled bunches were still in place. When she was finally satisfied her eyes lifted, catching sight of Farah as a bright grin spread across her face. Little legs bounded Faye towards Farah and she came to a stop right at her mother’s feet. 

“Mummy look, I dwessed myself.” Faye gave Farah a spin, clearly very proud of her achievement. 

For her part, Farah was struggling to find words. Slowly she sank to her knees before her daughter. Faye’s smile never faltered and Farah’s wide eyes swept over the child, taking in every inch of her as though she could disappear at any moment. The insistent pounding of her heart within her own chest reminded Farah that she was, in fact, alive and well herself, though every ounce of sense that she possessed argued that both the reality of this moment and her own continued life simply could not be real. 

Oh, but Farah wanted this to be real so badly that it hurt. She lifted a shaking hand to Faye’s cheek, gently drawing the back of her knuckles over the delicate skin there. She caught the blue eyes that blinked up at her with such trust and adoration and her heart ached to never have to look away. “You are perfect, sweetheart,” she heard her own voice whisper. Faye’s grin only grew and she threw the whole weight of her little body into Farah’s arms, only just being kept from slipping down to the floor by Farah’s quick reactions. 

Behind her a cough drew Farah’s attention and when she turned she caught sight of you, leaning in the doorway to the kitchen and watching the interaction. A fond smile was painted across your lips and your gaze was soft where it lay upon her. Farah felt a familiar warmth blooming in her chest at the sight of you, one that had been notably dulled in recent years as she attempted to hold onto what little hope she had left. 

“This is cosy,” you murmured, “can anyone get an invite, or is this a Faye and Mummy only kind of moment?” 

“My love,” Farah breathed as she took you in, almost transfixed by your beauty. She had almost forgotten how mesmerising your eyes were: the way that they lit up whenever you looked at her; the light scrunching at the corners when you smiled; the long eyelashes that made you appear as an old-Hollywood starlet as you blinked slowly and purposefully. 

Just seeing you and Faye there before her felt to Farah as though her heart was beginning to piece itself back together. Lifting herself from the ground once more she touched Faye’s hair gently, her eyes still fixed on you, as though she were afraid of losing contact with either one of you. A tug pulled on Farah’s heart and she floated towards you like she was being pulled by an invisible tether. She gathered you into her arms just as soon as she was close enough, tightly coiling herself around you. She pulled you into a deep kiss, sighing as she finally felt the pressure of your lips against her own for the first time in so long - Gods, it felt like home . 

“What was that for?” you asked, giggling softly when you eventually pulled away. Farah still held you close, her arms firmly curled around your waist, and she pressed her forehead to your own, just breathing you in. 

“Must I have a reason to kiss you?” she asked; you shook your head slightly. “You have no idea how good it is to hold you,” she whispered. 

This was all beginning to make sense now. Of course this was all a dream - a beautiful, comforting dream, so unlike any she had had in a long time. She wasn’t really holding you, and Faye was long gone, yet it felt real enough that Farah wanted to bask in the glow of it forever. 

“I’ve missed you too Farah… sixteen years…” What? As Farah looked at you the image distorted slightly. Your voice sounded closer somehow - more solid. But if this was a dream then how could this iteration of you know that sixteen years had passed? 

“What did you say?” Farah asked, a frown creasing her forehead as she watched the image of you flicker once before the edges sharpened and she was left gazing down into the eyes she loved so much once more. 

“I said, I was only gone ten minutes…” you answered, a hand moving to cup her cheek. “Are you feeling alright sweetheart?” The concern in your eyes had Farah’s heart racing once more, and she nodded her head with a smile, trying to convince herself that nothing out of the ordinary had just happened. 

“Never better,” she reassured, pressing a kiss to your forehead. Strange as this dream seemed, she knew that she didn’t want it to end. The opportunity to have you back - for the two of you to be mothers to Faye - was too alluring for her to fight it. 

Feeling a tugging at her trouser leg, Farah glanced down to find Faye watching you both. 

“Mummy, we have to go! Want to see Tewwa at the gweenhouse!” 

“The greenhouse?” Farah echoed. 

“Well where else would she go whilst we work? We organised it with Ben last night, remember?”  

Once more, the scene slowly shifted. Farah was beginning to think that this was no ordinary dream, yet she was unwilling to tear herself out of it. She wanted to be with you and Faye in any universe, even one that had the potential to be malevolent.

The ground beneath her feet shifted and for a moment Farah felt weightless. Then, as though nothing had changed, she stood firmly planted on the ground. Though standing in the dark Farah felt warm air against her face. As she managed to focus her eyes fell upon the greenhouse engulfed in flames. 

“Farah,” your alarmed voice all but shouted towards her, “Faye and Terra, they’re inside!”

Before Farah had the chance to respond you started running towards the flames. Terror gripped her but she sprang into action, drawing upon familiar magic, summoning it to the tips of her fingers. The horror-striking shrieks of children penetrated the sound of the flames, and it was the most frightening sound Farah had ever heard. Dread as she had never felt settled into her bones and it took all of her effort not to let it consume her. As she came to a halt, her eyes were drawn to Ben who was headed straight towards the flames. She raised her hand to pull him away, permitting magic to leave the restraints of her body. 

From the corner of her eye she saw a streak of movement as Saul ran into Ben, trapping him in his grasp to impede his movement. Ben struggled against Saul. “No! I have to-”

“You can’t help them if you’re dead!” Saul shouted over him, pinning him to the ground. 

Farah stood stunned for a moment until your voice spoke loudly above the roar of the flames. “Farah will use her magic, we will bring them both back. I promise.” You said, conviction clear in your voice. 

Without another word, Farah moved to your side and the two of you faced the flames, towering above you. At once Farah focused her mind, pushing the fear away and channelling her magic at the flames. A burst of water forced itself through the wall of flames and it took all her strength to maintain it. As soon as the opportunity presented itself, Farah watched as you ran into the opening and towards the shouts of Faye and Terra. The adrenaline that surged within her was all that maintained her, the worry for you and Faye humming steadily in the back of her mind. Expertly, she controlled the stream of water, manipulating the movement of the flames. Farah watched in trepidation, her sole focus upon your figure re-emerging. 

Minutes seemed to pass. Why was it taking so long? She steeled herself, about to enter the flames behind you, as she saw a familiar figure moving towards her. Faye, now grown into a young girl of about ten, ran towards Farah, her auburn hair matching the colour of the flames that danced too closely around her. Close behind her you emerged, carrying a child the same age as Faye in your arms. Faye crashed into her and Farah had to steel her body, preventing herself from toppling over. 

Another second and finally you emerged, the Greenhouse crashing in on itself the moment you stepped out of the flames. No longer held at bay with Farah’s magic, glass shards tumbled to the ground and collapsed in all directions. Grasping Faye’s arm, Farah leaped out of the way pulling her daughter away from the remaining danger. Finally at a safe distance Farah knelt in front of Faye, holding her face in her hands, examining her. Turning her head this way and that, she saw no sign of injury. Relief flooded her senses, and Farah pulled the girl into a tight embrace, cradling her head. The next moment, she felt a familiar weight against her as you threw your arms around the both of them. 

“Oh, Faye,” you breathed, “what happened?” Faye let out a wail, and for a horrible moment both you and Farah were worried that perhaps she was injured after all.

“It was my fault,” the girl managed between sobs. 

Farah gently grasped Faye’s shoulders to face her. “What is little love?”

Faye gasped for air and you stroked her back reassuringly. “Take a breath, sweetheart.” 

“It was me,” she said in a low voice, as if ashamed. “The fire. At first it was a little flame in my hand, and the next minute I couldn’t stop it.” Faye let out another sob. Farah exchanged a worried look with you. 

“Terra is fine, honey, just a little burn. You’re both safe now.” You said, choosing to reassure your daughter rather than voicing the concern at the strength of the magical flame she’d summoned. You pulled her into an embrace and Farah joined her arms around the both of you. You were all safe, that was the most important thing. The magical flame would have to be addressed at a later time, but Farah knew she would be more than capable of guiding her daughter in learning to control her magic. 

A shift in the image like a glitch in an old computer. Farah’s arms dropped to her sides, the solid forms of you and Faye vanished from her grasp. She looked around, panicked, but the greenhouse was gone too. Everything that had surrounded her moments ago was gone. Another change in time . This was the most complex dream Farah could remember ever having experienced. 

Around her walls began to form - familiar walls - specifically those of the bedroom that she shared with you. The light in the room was soft and beginning to grow greyer as evening approached. You were sitting on the far side of the bed with your back to her, your shoulders slumped and your head held in your hands. Farah didn’t know when this was supposed to be, nor what could have happened; all she knew was that the air of tension radiating from you made her heart feel as though it were on the verge of collapse. 

“Darling?” Her own voice was hesitant as she stepped closer, coming to rest by your side. Farah lay a comforting hand at the base of your neck, her thumb tracing delicate circles there in an attempt to calm you. 

“I’m not changing my mind,” you snapped and a frown creased Farah’s brow as she tried to place what had caused such anger in you. 

“I’m going to need a little more information than that sweetheart,” Farah coaxed. “What exactly is it that you’re not going to change your mind about?” 

A moment of quiet passed. You took a deep breath as you lifted your head to look at her, as though preparing yourself for an argument. For the life of her Farah couldn’t place what you could possibly have disagreed on. 

“Faye isn’t going to that damned specialist party of Saul’s. Every bloody year some disaster or another comes of it: students with alcohol poisoning, destroyed school property, the year that boy threatened to jump off the roof! Absolutely not. I will not see my baby being dragged into that mess.” 

It took all of Farah’s strength not to break into a fit of laughter. She remembered the first of the now annual specialist parties that Saul had thrown many a year ago. She also had a clear recollection of the two of you getting so drunk that you thought it would be funny to break into Rosalind’s office and make out on her desk. You hadn’t even been together then and it was the first time you had kissed her. The irony that now you were trying to keep your daughter from such antics was just a little funny, though Farah had a feeling that you wouldn’t see it that way. 

“Darling,” she started after collecting herself into some semblance of calm, “do you not think you may be being a little unreasonable? After all, Saul didn’t organise the first of those parties alone. You and I…” 

“You and I were in our final year. It was meant to be a farewell to our youth. Faye is still a child.” 

“She’s sixteen.” It was unclear how Farah knew that particular fact, but as the words passed her lips they felt right. 

“She’s our baby Farah!” 

There were tears welling in your eyes as Farah caught your gaze and instantly her heart ached. She hated to see you so upset, and hated even more to see your family be the cause of that pain in you. Carefully she lifted a hand to cup your cheek but you batted her away, wiping furiously at your eyes to keep from letting them fall. Farah could only sigh in resignation. 

“Did you say that to her when she asked if she could go?” Farah asked, curious as to how badly the two of you had fought. She knew how your temper could be and wanted to understand what she was going to have to do to put things right. 

“No. I told her the truth. I said that I loved her too much to allow her to put herself in harm’s way.”

“And I imagine that didn’t go down too well.” You huffed in response. 

“She told me that she wasn’t a child and I couldn’t control her forever. I blame you. That bloody independent streak of yours must be genetic.” Farah chuckled slightly at that and as she caught your eye she noticed a slight smile pulling at the corner of your lips as well, though you were trying to conceal it. 

“Would you like me to speak with her?” 

“I don’t know; are you going to let her go to the party?” The look that Farah turned on you made no promises either way. You sighed in defeat. “Fine. But if anything happens to her, Farah I will be holding you personally responsible.” 

The next moment Farah found herself outside the door to the room that you had intended to be Faye’s nursery. She didn’t remember leaving your room. As she stood there a flash of a memory crossed her mind. Watching as Rosalind walked down this hall with a newborn Faye in her arms. Farah herself powerless to stop it. The way that your body collapsed to the ground like a puppet cut from its strings. 

The images were gone as soon as they started and Farah knocked on the door. No response. So you were both sulking - like mother, like daughter. 

Stepping into the room Farah froze. On the bed in the centre of the room lay the figure of a girl who was becoming more familiar to Farah by the day. Red hair was fanned out over the pillow and blue eyes glared up at the phone that she held above her face, stubbornly refusing to look away from the screen. 

“Bloom?” No, that was wrong. These dreams were about you and Faye. Why was Bloom here? 

The girl scowled as she turned to look at Farah, at first seeming confused before she rolled her eyes. 

“Nice thought but I don’t think Mama’s going to fall for me pretending that I’m not her precious little daughter who must be protected at all costs. Why Bloom?” So she was Faye, with Bloom’s face… the girl’s last question was a very good one - why had Farah’s subconscious chosen to give her teenage daughter the face of Alfea’s newest student? 

In her mind Farah heard your voice, though it wasn’t the voice of the you she had just been speaking to. This version of your voice sounded richer. It sounded like the you that would whisper to her in the dead of night when the world was asleep and you wanted Farah to truly hear what you were saying. “Don’t you see it yet sweetheart? She’s important.” 

“Mum?” Faye asked. She had put her phone to the side now and was sitting, watching Farah intently. 

“I’m sorry darling, I was just… lost in thought.” Farah sighed as she moved further into the room. Only, she didn’t move further into the room. One moment she was at the door and the next she was sitting at the foot of Faye’s bed. “You know that your mama doesn’t mean to try and control you, don’t you?” 

“Funny, it sure seems like that’s what she wants,” the girl grumbled, picking at a loose thread on the cushion that she held in her lap. 

Farah pursed her lips for a moment as she considered how to handle this. There were things that neither you nor she had told Faye about the day she was born. Things you thought she never needed to know. 

“We nearly lost you once you know. The day you were born someone tried to take you from us. We fought so hard to keep you. Your mama nearly died trying to get to you.” That wasn’t right. That wasn’t this reality. Faye was here. Rosalind didn’t take her. 

A flash of something. Faye’s wails as she was taken from your arms. Farah could feel herself being pinned to the wall. Held back to stop her from getting to her child. Then a different flash. She fought the soldiers off. She pulled Faye from Rosalind. She fried the bitch’s brain with her mind alone. No. That didn’t happen. 

“You never told me that.” Faye murmured, Bloom’s facial expressions painted with shock. 

“We didn’t think you needed to know. Your mama loves you so much Faye. She only wants to keep you safe. I know it’s only a party, and that we raised you to be sensible, but that doesn’t stop her from worrying.” 

“I won’t do anything stupid Mum, I promise.” Farah lifted her hand to Faye’s cheek - Bloom’s cheek - and the girl let her. 

“I know you won’t, little love,” she whispered, “but before you go I need you to do something for me. Go and talk to your mama. She can be prickly and stubborn and overprotective but she only wants what’s best for you.” 

Faye nodded and gave her mum a smile. She stood from the bed. Another flash of memory as you pulled yourself from your birthing bed, begging Rosalind to give your baby back to you. 

The images that followed were confusing, and caused a rush of fear. Some scenes Farah was certain were true, others she didn’t quite recognise. Faye stood, smiling at her before turning into the hall. Rather than walking into your shared room to speak to you, her form flickered, shifting into Rosalind carrying a crying infant away from her. Abruptly, Farah felt herself restrained, unable to move or speak. Then she heard the dull thud of your body slumping to the floor. 

-

Farah awoke with a start. For several bewildering moments she felt as though she was laying in bed, your arm draped over her waist. Blinking several times she realised she still lay on the sofa, the weight across her waist a heavy blanket that had twirled itself around her body. The wave of disappointment that hit her was enough to bring tears to her eyes. Anger overtook her- how could she let herself dream like this? It was as though she’d lost both you and Faye all over again. She abruptly sat up, furiously tearing the blankets away, freeing herself from the delusion. 

Rising from the sofa, she walked to the fireplace, staring fixedly into the glowing embers. Her mind returned immediately to the dream that had been as vivid as a memory. Faye was perfect, absolutely and completely perfect: soft auburn curls twisted around her face; the blue eyes that had appraised her; her voice that spoke to Farah with an adoration only a daughter would. The dismay she currently felt was like a physical pain tearing at her very soul. And then there was you: beautiful as ever- a twinkle in your eye and flashing her that special smile reserved just for her. 

It had been years since she’d had a dream like this. Farah’s mind spun, searching desperately for a reason. Why now? She had a sinking feeling that this hadn’t been an ordinary dream. The words you had whispered in her ear still rang loud in her mind. And then a thought occurred to her: Bloom. Why did you seem to know about her? Why was she important? The myriad of questions threatened to overwhelm her. 

In the past, Farah had locked the memories of her daughter into a neat box in her mind, only to catch occasional glimpses of her when she could no longer keep them at bay. Now, however, there was no locking her family away; it was time to confront the trauma of her past.

Chapter Text

In the days that followed Farah was reeling. The images of her dreams seemed to haunt her every move and she was unable to quiet the incessant questions drumming at the back of her mind. The voice that sounded loudest amongst them was yours. She found herself scared to sleep, fearing that she would be plagued with more dreams that caused her to miss you more than she could ever express. It was like a physical yearning  to be closer to you than was currently possible had settled into her very bones and could not be shifted. The notion of the dream being more than it seemed had solidified too and Farah had jotted down the words spoken in the exchanges between you. In particular she focused on the moments when the image of you had glitched, as though you - the real you - had been trying to tell her something. Sitting in her office, shrouded by the shadows cast by the trees outside her window, Farah stared at the two sentences before her:

Imagine, this could’ve been our life.

I’ve missed you too, Farah. Sixteen years. 

There could be no other explanation; it was as though you were trying to communicate with her. Though Farah was afraid to believe it, she was beginning to hope that you were telling her that you were still in there somewhere, reaching for her.  What could not be explained, however, was that these changes in you seemed to coincide with the arrival of Bloom at Alfea. It was maddening to Farah, holding the pieces of information within her grasp and yet not quite being able to put them together. 

In an attempt to organise both the information and her mind she had spent hours researching anything she could to try and make sense of it all and had managed to sort files and records into three different piles: one concerning Rosalind, one about you and one regarding Bloom. The more she read about Rosalind, the more a burning anger rose within her. Rosalind was cunning, manipulative and cruel and Farah could only regret that she had once looked up to her as a mentor. Everything Rosalind had taken from her, thanks to Farah’s own blind belief in the woman, could not be restored, nor forgiven. 

Her thoughts having strayed, it took everything in Farah to centre herself once more. She took several deep breaths before her emotions fell away and she managed to refocus her mind on the task at hand. While Farah had spent much time contemplating the events of the night her family was torn apart, she hadn’t truly uncovered Rosalind’s motives. If she were completely honest with herself, she hadn’t really wanted to know the truth at the time - too consumed by grief. However, she was starting to realise that perhaps now was the time to uncover the whole truth, no matter how painful. 

At that moment, and with that thought playing on her mind, there was a soft knock on Farah’s office door and she quickly closed the files in front of her. “Enter,” she said, her voice sounding too loud in the silence of the room.

Ben entered, gently closing the door behind him. He considered Farah for a moment, taking in the worn expression on her face. “Hello Farah, how are you?”

Farah had to suppress the urge to roll her eyes. He meant well and she knew that, but her own wellbeing was the last thing on her mind at present. “Ben, the changes in her..” she paused, whispering your name as though fearing to say it out loud, “have you any news?” 

Ben shifted as he settled  in his chair, looking momentarily uncomfortable. Farah didn’t need her magic to tell her that he was withholding something. “I have used various different magical substances, among others the kingsfoil, a fascinating plant with healing properties, to see whether it may-”

“Ben!” Farah interrupted, knowing all too well that Ben had a tendency to ramble distractedly when he was trying to avoid answering a question. “Please, just tell me.”

He sighed, slumping slightly in the chair situated opposite Farah’s desk. “I have been monitoring her more closely since she first started showing signs of,” he hesitated, “improvement. It seems to me that the reason she’s unable to wake is somehow connected to Rosalind, or rather, her magic.” 

Farah’s features shifted, distorting in her shock and she stared at Ben, wide-eyed. “What?” she uttered in a small voice.

“Postpartum issues aren't the reason for her coma. I have suspected for a while that something else happened that night, but it wasn’t until recently that I managed to place the magical signature.” 

Farah rose from her chair, gripping the sides of her desk with both hands. “ Why didn’t you say anything sooner?” she questioned, her voice shaking with the effort not to shout. 

Ben had the decency to look apologetic. “I didn’t want to say anything until I was sure. I couldn’t bear giving you false hope, Farah.” 

At that Farah softened slightly; she didn’t like that Ben had kept the truth from her but she appreciated that he had done so with the best of intentions. “So you’re saying Rosalind placed her in a coma?” 

“There was always a unique sense to Rosalind’s magic and she had a knack for leaving particular tells that identified her. I used a magical substance to pick up trace elements of the magic used.” Ben paused, looking over at Farah. “You can think of it like a sort of magical fingerprint process.” 

She looked at him expectantly. “And?”

“It was as though she was covered in a veil of Rosalind’s magic.” Ben said.

Farah sunk back down into her chair, unable to wrap her mind around Ben’s words. Rosalind. How had she not seen this coming? How had she not thought to find out for herself? The guilt and self doubt threatened to overwhelm her and she closed her eyes for several long moments, gathering herself. 

“Show me” she said, her voice stern once more.

Ben looked at her in question. “I- what?”

Farah rose from her chair, making her way around the desk and towards the door. “Show me. I need to see what Rosalind did to her.”

Understanding flooded Ben’s expression and he simply nodded, following her out of the door.

-

Once again, Farah found herself standing within the confines of your room, her eyes fixed upon your still form. She marvelled at your beauty, even in this state. While sixteen years had passed, just seeing you caused a familiar warmth to rise in her chest. 

A beat and Ben’s words started to settle in her ears. Rosalind had done this; she had taken you from her. Farah’s heartbeat thrummed in her ears and it took all of her strength not to crumble to the floor. For some reason all of the pain she had felt at losing you seemed to crash into her anew. She swayed, eyes blurring with tears. A steadying had grasped her shoulder. Ben stood close and without uttering a word he offered what little support he could. 

Farah cleared her throat in an effort to bring herself back from the brink of crippling grief. She moved from Ben’s grip, positioning herself on the opposite side of the bed to permit Ben the space he needed. 

Taking your hand, Farah held it tightly between her own as she watched Ben set to work. He moved swiftly around the room, gathering various vials and pouring the contents into a metal container. Suddenly, thick wisps of smoke bellowed out of it, filling the space before Ben rapidly. 

“What’s happening?” Farah asked, slightly alarmed. 

Ben swung it gently in the air, encouraging the release of smoke. “It’s called Rashovnik, it’s a Slavic herb with intriguing magical properties.” At the glowering look from Farah he quickly continued: “it is said to have the power to unlock powerful magic.”

Farah could only stare as the smoke enveloped you, covering you in soft pillowy clouds. Abruptly, the hairs at the back of her neck prickled as though danger was imminent. It was not a foreign sensation; she had felt it many times before, specifically when facing Rosalind. As soon as the feeling had come, it was gone. Slowly, the smoke around you dissolved like fog under the sun. Farah watched you intently and, as though a weight had been lifted off your chest, you heaved a deep breath. 

Ben had taken hold of your other wrist, evidently monitoring your pulse. He looked up at Farah. “If I recall correctly, you have been hesitant to enter her mind in the past?” he asked tentatively. 

“I felt as though it may be an invasion.” Farah met Ben’s gaze, finding it difficult to form words.

“Perhaps part of the explanation for that feeling lies in Rosalind’s magic. Could the magic she placed here have acted as a barrier?” Ben asked, gently placing your wrist back down onto your bed.

Farah took several moments to consider. “Almost certainly,” she said finally, absentmindedly stroking the back of your hand with her thumb. “The thought that she’s been under Rosalind’s magic all this time…”

“We couldn’t have known.” Ben cut in. “We assumed her coma was brought on by the excessive blood loss. I managed to stabilise her, though I didn’t think it would be enough for her to recover.” 

“And now?” Farah asked expectantly.

Ben sighed. “Things have happened in this room that have no natural explanation. I’m willing to believe just about anything now.” 

Hope tugged at Farah’s insides stronger than before. Could there be a real chance to have you back? The guilt she had carried about having kept you alive all these years when things had looked hopeless seemed to lift ever so slightly; it could all be worth it. 

“Perhaps you’d like to try your magic, Farah?” Ben inquired softly.

It took several moments for Farah to respond. “Mm.” She merely nodded as she lowered herself onto the side of your bed. She leaned across you, placing her hand onto the soft mattress just above your shoulder to support herself. With her other hand she caressed your cheek. “Forgive me, my love.” 

The magic that was an inherent part of her lit her eyes a shade of pale blue and she let it flow freely into you. At once she was watching you in your bedroom, clutching a wailing Faye to your chest, tired and afraid. Farah’s stomach twisted uncomfortably in anticipation of what was to come. Living through this once had been enough. It was as though she was watching scenes in a movie she had no particular desire to see again. The overwhelming thought in her mind however, was that she had to know. 

The next moment Farah watched as Rosalind subdued her. How bizarre to watch herself in such a position - worse still that she was unable to change the outcome of that night. She had to remind herself that this was a memory and that she was powerless against it. That didn’t mean it wasn’t painful to witness. As Rosalind tore Faye from your arms Farah forced herself to remain focused on you. She watched as you struggled to your feet and saw the blood running down your legs. This time she was unable to stop herself and she lept to your side. She reached out only to find that she couldn’t touch you, as though you were a shimmer, a trick of the light. Refocusing her mind once more Farah realised that from this point on she had no memory of her own when it came to this night. 

You pleaded with Rosalind, and Farah could see the hatred in Rosalind’s eyes as she appraised you. The next moment you collapsed and Rosalind smiled. “Take her,” she ordered, her voice cold as ice. “I have plans for her.” She didn’t make an effort to calm the crying babe in her arms, seemingly having no interest in Faye. Several soldiers approached your prostrate form, unceremoniously heaving you off the floor and dragging you behind them after Rosalind.  

White, hot rage consumed Farah, and she was about to unleash her magic, memory be damned. Suddenly, the room around her dissolved and Farah was momentarily confused. She stood alone, nothing around her but empty space. It was as though a void had consumed her and whisked her away from you. Fear sparked at the back of her mind, then a sound like voices somewhere in the distance. She moved towards it and noticed it growing stronger with every step. She quickened her pace and halted abruptly as the voices finally grew loud enough for her to understand. 

“She’s stable?”   One voice asked and Farah felt the anger beginning to simmer within herself once more -  it was Rosalind.

“ Yes, ma’am. ” A man’s voice spoke. This voice was one that Farah didn’t recognise.

“And the babe?” Rosalind questioned.

“Fine. Stubborn little thing.” The man responded.

Rosalind chuckled. “ Good. I’ll take her in the morning. ” She paused, then uttered your name. “ Is she all prepped? ” She asked.

“ She’s ready for the procedure. ” The male voice replied.

“ You’ve done well, Hastings. You may leave. ” Rosalind said. 

A moment later Farah could hear a door falling shut.

There was a stretch of silence before Rosalind spoke once more. “ Well, well. A child with Farah Dowling? ” There was contempt in her voice as she spoke. “ You have no idea what a miracle she is, do you? ” She seemed to ask you, though there was no response. 

That was enough, Farah could hear no more. With a deep breath, she ceased the flow of magic and she found herself perched on your bed once more. For the first time in all these years there was something tangible - new information. She leaned down towards you and pressed her cheek against yours as she whispered: “I will bring you back to me darling, just hang on a little longer.” She straightened. “Ben, hand me a pen and some paper please.” Her voice was calm as she spoke.

Ben scrambled to find it, handing it to Farah as quickly as he could. Immediately Farah scribbled down a few thoughts. Rosalind had said she would take Faye in the morning. She hadn’t said take care of , or deal with . Farah didn't dare hope, but was determined to find out what Rosalind had done to her daughter.  Then there was the procedure she had performed on you; what had she done and why could Farah not remember you having been taken? Farah felt a wave of newfound resolve, feeling she was now closer to uncovering the truth than she had ever been before. She would figure this out and find a way to bring you back to her - nothing in the Other World could stop her. 

-

For days following her foray into your mind Farah felt as though the universe had it in for her. All she wanted to do was to keep looking, researching, to find out what exactly had happened to you and to Faye. Despite her best efforts though, there were other pressing matters arising that needed her attention. 

During her working day Farah was pulled in every direction following the growing issue of the possible new uprising of the Burned Ones in the woods surrounding Alfea. Saul was injured in an attempt to move the Burned One that she had captured and though they were doing everything that they could, it was looking less and less likely that they would kill the damned thing in time before… No. No, Farah would not entertain that thought. She had lost too much already, she would not be losing a friend on top of everyone else who had been taken from her. 

In the moments when she did step away from work she wasn’t sleeping. Hours would pass by as Farah poured over books and files searching for answers. She worked through old tomes about rare magics trying to pinpoint what Rosalind could have meant when she had insinuated that Faye possessed some special power - that she was a miracle . She pawed through piles of papers that Rosalind had written, looking for any hint as to what she had known and why she had done the things she had to tear apart Farah’s family, the one happiness that she had had. None of the research that she did, however, came to anything. 

By the night of the specialists’ annual party Farah simply didn’t have it in her to research any further. Saul was in an ever worsening state, the Burned One who had attacked him still hadn’t been dealt with despite the one that had been tracked being killed, and Farah was no closer to the personal answers that she was seeking than she had been days ago. She had allowed herself the evening in the company of her friends in the hope that perhaps some good news may come her way. Now it was feeling as though no hope would ever come, with who knew how many Burned Ones threatening the safety of her pupils on top of everything else. 

“A single Burned One is now at least two, who knows how many more are out there,” Farah snapped at Ben, her frustration finally getting the better of her. She was just so frustrated with her inability to solve any of the issues that she was facing at present. “It’s my job to worry about it Ben - to fix it.” 

“You will,” Ben reassured. The certainty in his eyes was somewhat comforting despite Farah’s doubts. 

Out of nowhere Bloom came storming towards where they were standing, her phone clutched in her hand and fury burning in her eyes. As Farah turned sharply at the sound of her approach her heart sank. She didn’t think she had it in her to be the girl’s guiding hand tonight, no matter how desperately she wanted to be. 

“You should be in bed.” 

“And you should tell the truth,” Bloom bit back, holding her phone up for Farah to see. A lump formed in Farah’s throat and she felt panic rising in the pit of her stomach. Why was Bloom showing her a picture of Rosalind? 

Silence. Farah glanced over at Ben, indicating that she would need a moment alone with Bloom. With a silent nod Ben complied. 

“What is this?” Farah asked, trying to keep her voice from sounding too harsh. 

“This woman - the one standing right next to you is the woman who left me in the First World.” Farah’s heart all but stopped. How could Bloom know that? How had she even come upon a picture of the previous headmistress? 

“Rosalind.” She said, hoping that putting a name to the face might encourage Bloom to explain what was going on here. 

“Who is she?” 

“She preceded me as headmistress. I was her student, then her protégé.” 

“You were there sixteen years ago when she did it?” The question felt like an accusation and, though she didn’t mean to snap at the girl, Farah felt her blood boil at the tone that was being aimed at her. Farah had had her own battles sixteen years ago; anything that Rosalind had been meddling in outside of her family had not been on Farah’s radar. 

“I told you, the circumstances surrounding your birth are as much a mystery to me as they are to you.” As the words left her mouth though a thought crossed Farah’s mind. Bloom was born sixteen years ago. From the moment Farah had met the girl she had felt a connection to her - a familiarity. Her hair, her eyes, they were reminiscent of Faye - reminiscent of you. Deep in her mind Farah began to wonder if her heart had known what she had been unable to see all this time, but right now she couldn’t entertain such notions. There was too much going on and she needed to process these thoughts before saying anything she may later regret. 

“Do you see how that’s getting harder and harder for me to believe?” Bloom asked and, on hearing the tone of her voice, Farah knew that Bloom too was in no condition to be having this conversation. 

“You’re drunk. Perhaps we could have this conversation when you’re not,” she suggested. 

“Every picture of her was shoved in the abandoned East Wing, tell me that’s not suspicious,” the girl persisted. 

“Rosalind was headmistress during a difficult period in Alfea’s history, it’s not a time we’re keen to celebrate.” Farah couldn’t talk about this - not now. The things she had learned about what Rosalind had done to you were too raw. Her new-found suspicions around what may have happened to the daughter you had both lost needed time and consideration. 

“I wanna talk to her.” 

“That’s impossible.” 

“Really?” Bloom paused and it grew clear to Farah that she was not going to take no for an answer. “Because a week ago I had a vision, a memory, of the day that she left me in the First World. She said ‘find me’. I want to talk to her.” 

“She’s dead, Bloom.” Oh how Farah wished that were true. How she wished that Rosalind had died long before she had managed to get her hands on you and Faye. It was all she could think to say to make Bloom stop in this endless tirade and just allow her a moment to think. Yes, it was another lie, but it was one that Farah had to tell right now if for no other reason than to protect her own sanity. 

“What?” Bloom’s voice was shocked - almost pained. 

“She’s been dead for years… So, I don’t know what you saw, or why you saw it, but that is where this ends.” Farah knew that her voice was harsh, that she was failing to support Bloom in a moment where she was clearly struggling with her own search for answers, but if Farah’s suspicions came to truth then this was too tied up in her own trauma for her to be the support that Bloom needed. Farah needed to think and so, with one last word, she turned and headed straight for her office. There was something she needed to check. 

Making a beeline for her desk, Farah began rummaging through the stack of files and paperwork that she had collected concerning Bloom. She knew that her main file was in there somewhere. Frantic fingers pushed other files aside, leaving them strewn messily across the desk. Despite her usual need for order Farah paid little mind to the chaos she was creating. Her heart was racing in her chest, her mind a jumble of questions. 

Bloom had called Rosalind the one who had left her in the First World. All of this time Farah had been wondering at the sense of familiarity that she was feeling from Bloom; surely it couldn’t be that Rosalind had stashed Faye away in the First World for her to collect at a later date. 

Bloom’s file finally came into view and Farah plucked it from the pile, flicking it open on the desk before her. She scanned the information: names of parents, parents contact information, place of birth… 

Date of birth. 

Farah’s breath caught in her throat, her heartbeat stuttering in her chest. The birth date on Bloom’s records was only two days later than Faye’s. It wasn’t proof by any means, but Rosalind had taken Faye for a power that she seemed to believe the child possessed. It would make sense that Rosalind would want control of a power like that rather than to snuff it out. It would make even more sense that she would not want Farah to have any influence over that power. 

It felt as though her head was spinning - how had the possibility not occurred to her sooner? She had been so protective of Bloom from the day she had met her. She had spent her evenings telling you about the fire fairy, relaying all of her concerns and feelings that didn’t make sense. 

“Don’t you see it yet sweetheart? She’s important.” Farah remembered your voice whispering the words into her head during her dream. You had known, though Farah couldn’t understand how when you had never even met Bloom. Perhaps it had been intuition, a mother knowing when her daughter was close. It was a thought that would need to be considered. 

Farah’s mind turned more fully to Bloom and she felt panic enter her heart. She had been so cold towards the girl only a short time ago - too caught up in her own concerns to listen to Bloom’s. If Bloom was Faye, if she truly was your child, Farah feared how she may respond to being shut out like that. You had always been recklessly temperamental during a disagreement and if Bloom were anything like you then there was a good chance that she would react dangerously to their previous interaction. Farah needed to find the girl - quickly. 

-

Saul was healed, the burned one that had attacked him was dead, and Farah breathed a sigh of relief. One less worry for her to keep in her mind was a blessing, and to know that she wasn’t losing a half of her currently conscious support system only comforted her further. Still, that did not mean that her troubles were at an end. Though there were still matters to figure out, Farah felt that she needed to share what she had learned with Ben and Saul - if anyone could understand what this all meant it was the two of them. 

“Bloom came to me tonight,” she began, leaning against the desk in her office, flanked by her friends. “She had a memory of the fairy who left her in the human world. It was Rosalind.” 

“Oh shit,” Ben muttered, the meaning behind Farah’s words still settling in his mind. 

“My thoughts exactly,” Farah agreed. 

“What did you tell her?” Saul asked. There was a look in his eye that caught Farah’s attention. She took a breath, trying to calm herself. Not that I think I may be her mother - even the thought was enough to quicken her heart rate.

“That she was dead.” 

“You don’t think…” Ben’s question trailed off and Farah looked at him expectantly. He seemed to be struggling to find the words. 

“You think that Bloom may be Faye.” Saul eventually cut in. It was a statement rather than a question. 

“Do you think I’m wrong?” 

“Actually, it makes a lot of sense.” Saul conceded. “The strong will, the impulsiveness, the refusal to back down no matter what - remind you of anyone?” 

Farah couldn’t help but laugh, nodding her head slightly. Your name slipped from her lips like a prayer. “I think she knew before I did.” She paused, uncertain if she should mention her dreams. “I heard her voice the other night in a dream. She said that Bloom was important. I don’t understand how she could know in her current position but… what?” 

Ben was looking at Farah as though she had grown a second head. His jaw hung slack as though in shock and his brow furrowed in thought. 

“You alright mate?” Saul asked. 

Ben ignored Saul, turning his attention on Farah: “she spoke to you in a dream? When?” 

“Not long after the start of the year.” Farah’s own brow was furrowed now as she tried to follow Ben’s train of thought. 

“But with your mental defences it would take an extortionate amount of power to get through to you. She isn’t a fairy… Oh…” 

“Ben, what is it?” Farah asked. Fear was beginning to tug at her heart now. She didn’t like when Ben got like this. 

“It can’t be… That magic has been lost for centuries…” Ben turned swiftly, heading for one of the many bookshelves lining the walls of Farah’s office. His finger ran along the spines until he found the book that he wanted, beginning to flick through for a specific page. “You remember that I told you how rare a child like Faye was,” Ben began as he continued his search. “A child like that requires both great power and a bond unlike any experienced by most.” Finally Ben seemed to come upon the page that he was looking for and he moved back towards the desk, holding the book out for Farah to see. “There was a time long ago when another child was born of two female fairies in a situation not unlike your own. The child grew to be a fire fairy, more powerful than any seen in the Other World until that point. They said that the child possessed the Dragon Flame.” 

Farah’s eyes scanned the page before her, taking in the information presented to her. With each sentence that she read she felt a sense of understanding beginning to sink into her very bones. This all sounded so familiar: the nature of Bloom’s magic; the potential for both great power and great destruction that seemed encapsulated within her; the tendency for the magic to grow out of hand in adolescence as the Dragon Flame grew stronger and the bearer having to learn control. The page was describing Bloom. 

“It’s more than just that though,” Ben’s voice cut through Farah’s thoughts, “turn the page.” 

Farah did and continued to read. The book told of how the Dragon Flame in this instance had created a bond between the child and the mother who had carried them that was unheard of. The mother could feel where the child was, at times could hear their thoughts - the last sentence was the one that had Farah almost dropping the book in surprise: it was thought that the bond between mother and child had strengthened the mother’s abilities, giving her some power in line with that of her child. 

“The changes began when Bloom arrived at Alfea,” Farah murmured absently. 

“They did,” Ben confirmed. “If we’re right, if Bloom is your daughter and possesses the Dragon Flame, it could explain why that lovely partner of yours has chosen now to begin waking. Perhaps Bloom’s presence has allowed her the strength that she needed to begin fighting whatever Rosalind has done to her.” 

“Wait, Rosalind did something to her?” Saul asked. It had slipped Farah’s mind to tell him amidst everything else that had been going on. “But when? I don’t remember Rosalind doing anything when she took Faye…” 

“Come to think of it, nor do I,” Ben agreed. 

“It seems we have some missing time on our hands that can’t be accounted for.” Farah’s voice was resigned as she spoke the thought aloud. “We will have to figure out why, but for now there is the issue of Bloom’s memory. She seems intent on finding out more. If Rosalind is calling to her there’s a reason, and if Bloom possesses the power that we think she does it can only mean trouble. We can never let the two of them meet.”  

“Agreed,” Saul nodded. He seemed to pause for a moment, wanting to ask one more thing though doubting himself. It wasn’t until Farah frowned at him that he managed to find the words. “Will you tell Bloom of your suspicions?” 

It was a good question, and one that Farah had been asking herself. On the one hand, she knew that giving Bloom an answer could help; it may be the only way to stop this rampage that she seemed to be pushing forward on. However, Farah was hesitant to say anything. Whilst they had a theory that Bloom was the child that had been taken from you both sixteen years ago, there was no solid evidence. The last thing that Farah wanted was to get Bloom’s hopes up only for her to have them dashed, not to mention the impact it could have on her own heart. On top of everything else, were it true, how was she to explain to Bloom the condition that you had been left in ever since her birth. Bloom was the kind of girl to take a blow like that to heart, to blame herself and allow the guilt to consume her, she was a little like Farah in that way. 

“I think we should keep that to ourselves until we are certain. Bloom has enough on her plate as it is.” Perhaps adding to the mountain of lies was a mistake, but Farah didn’t know how else to protect everyone involved. Sometimes choices had to be made - she could only hope that this one wouldn’t blow up in her face.

Chapter Text

Keeping her suspicions from Bloom proved harder than Farah had originally anticipated. The girl was relentless in her search for the truth, almost more determined once Farah had told her who the woman from her vision was and that Bloom could not speak to Rosalind herself to gain answers. It was beginning to worry Farah that Bloom was so headstrong, determined to the point that she would put herself in dangerous situations to get to the information that she had been seeking. 

On top of everything Beatrix had become an issue: killing Callum, taking off with Bloom and filling her head with all sorts of warped stories about Rosalind and her good intentions. Farah didn’t know how a girl as young as Beatrix could even know about Rosalind, though she had her theories. If Rosalind was strong enough to pass magic from her cell and into Bloom’s mind there was no telling what else she was capable of. 

When Bloom had gone missing and her suite-mates had come to Farah, insisting that Beatrix had been the one to kill Callum and had then taken off with Bloom, it had felt as though Farah had been pulled back sixteen years into that room as her child was taken away from her. She admitted that she had been hard in the methods she employed when dealing with Beatrix, but she was not about to risk anything happening to Bloom. The fire fairy had not seen it that way though, her fury at Farah thinly veiled after she had been brought back to Alfea and Beatrix had been locked away. Farah had done her utmost to conceal the pain that had risen within her during that particular interaction; no matter how much she had wanted to tell Bloom the truth she knew that it simply wasn’t the right time. 

Now though, Bloom’s search for herself through finding her parents was the least of Farah’s worries. The students’ training was not proving fruitful and, with the heightened threat of the Burned Ones seeming to grow ever closer to the barrier, it was imperative that they learned quickly to protect themselves if the school stood any chance against an open attack. 

“Do you remember how well trained we were?” Farah asked as she, Saul and Ben watched the recordings of the day’s training. The students went through all of the correct motions but there was no urgency to their movements, no fire or intent behind each cut of a wooden blade. Moments like this only made her miss you all the more; you had been a force against any opponent and would no doubt have benefitted the students greatly at a time like this. “Rosalind…” 

“...put us through hell.” Ben finished for her. “I’ve still got the scars.” 

“And not one of the students took down a simulated burned one; most of them just gave up.” The frustration was clear in Farah’s voice as she reached out to flick through a pile of paperwork to the side of her tablet. 

“They’re not ready yet, which is why we are training them,” Saul reminded them. 

Farah looked as though she wanted to argue that there was no knowing how much time they would have to do so when the peace in the room was broken by the door being flung open. As Marco entered, the trio all seemed to click into high alert. He was clearly wounded, dirt and blood staining his uniform as he clutched at his side, grunting in pain. 

“Marco,” Saul started, he and Farah both rising to their feet in unison. Saul rushed to Marco’s side, helping him to sit. “What happened?” 

“Noura and I were tracking a Burned One not far from the school. Once we killed it we let our guard down.” It was clear that he was struggling to speak, his words strained as he continued to groan in pain. Carefully he lifted his shirt, revealing a clear claw mark on his abdomen - one of the Burned Ones had got him. “It wasn’t alone.” Marco’s voice was strained as he choked out the last part and the trio glanced between themselves with concern written on their faces. 

“I’ll get some Zanbag.” In moments Ben was up and on his way to the greenhouse. 

“How close was it to the school?” Farah asked anxiously. 

“Noura and the battalion will take care of it, don’t worry. But we were told that the Burned Ones are solitary hunters - two of them travelling together…”

The question in Marco’s words even had Saul looking to Farah for answers. “Well, it’s rare but it happens,” Farah reassured. It had to be a one-off incident. She couldn’t believe that the threat of the Burned ones had grown so rapidly in such a short space of time. 

“We should alert the Solarians,” Saul half whispered. 

“We tried,” Marco cut in. “They’ve been radio silent for days, and they pulled their troops from the battalion.” 

The confusion on Saul’s face only gave way to a hint of panic. “What?” he turned to Farah again: “When was the last time you spoke with Luna?” 

Farah’s hands were fidgeting a little before her as she tried to control the panic simmering beneath the surface. She had to project strength - falling apart now would do no one any good. Still, she couldn’t find the words to answer Saul’s question, shaking her head almost imperceptibly in response. 

“Is there something happening I should know about?” Marco asked, clearly uncomfortable. 

“The Queen removed her daughter from the school over a week ago. Since then she’s been distant,” Farah finally confessed, unable to meet the gaze of either of the men. Their situation was becoming more perilous by the second and now, knowing that Luna had pulled her troops away, Farah was beginning to feel the anxiety building within herself. 

“We don’t have many more troops.” Marco’s voice was clearer as he said this, his own panic somewhat evident in his push to be heard. “If the Solarians abandon us we’re in serious trouble.” 

A sigh escaped Farah and she nodded her head. He was right, without the Solarians there was little chance of things getting better from this point on. Though she tried to keep herself focussed on the task at hand Farah couldn’t stop her mind from straying to thoughts of Bloom. A question played at the back of her mind: if things went wrong here and something happened to either Bloom or herself, could Farah be at peace with the fact that she was keeping the girl from a possible truth of who her parents were? That question was too difficult to answer at that moment and so she pushed it to the back of her mind. 

“I will try to contact Luna, leave it with me.” 

-

Five or six. Just two Burned ones travelling together was almost unheard of - a reality that hadn’t been seen since Rosalind was last free in the world - but five or six travelling together was something altogether new. 

Farah shifted to the table in the centre of her office, lifting the lid to reveal her field uniform neatly nestled inside. She could feel her own heartbeat quicken at the sight of it, a reluctance to don the uniform once more taking hold of her. It had been sixteen years since Farah had worn those clothes; she had promised herself that she would create a world in which she would never have to again. Not after everything that she had been through under Rosalind’s rule whilst wearing them - not after everything she had lost. 

The silence in the office was broken as the door was flung open, Bloom storming in without so much as a knock. Her features were set into a look of determination and for just a moment Farah thought she caught a glimpse of you somewhere deep in the girl’s eyes. 

“Excuse me.” The words held little of the bite that she had intended in questioning Bloom’s lack of manners - really, what did it matter right now? 

“I wanna see her. Rosalind…” Farah felt a chill prick at her skin at the mere notion - over her dead body would Rosalind be getting her hands on anyone she cared about again. 

“I told you, she’s…” 

“I know that she’s alive so don’t lie to me again.” Fury laced each word as Bloom spat the order out. Farah couldn’t help the stabbing sensation in her heart. It wasn’t that she wanted to lie to Bloom, but how could she tell her the truth when Farah wasn’t entirely sure of the truth herself? 

Another text from Saul popped up on her phone and Farah tried to contain the emotions threatening to bubble over within herself. “I don’t have time for this right now Bloom.” Dropping the lid of the table back into place Farah made to head past Bloom and out of the school, only to be stopped in her tracks by the girl’s words. 

“I’m from Aster Dell.” All Farah could do was stare. Her heart was racing in her chest, fear gripping her. How had Bloom come to that conclusion? It didn’t make sense, unless… Beatrix. Another of her whisperings to get Bloom on side, no doubt. “Yeah. That’s where I was born. That’s where my birth parents lived, that is, until you, Mr Silva and Professor Harvey destroyed it.” 

It was all Farah could do not to burst out with her own suspicions of Bloom’s birth: her belief that Bloom had been born in her own cottage, not far from the school; that Farah had been there, holding your hand as you brought Bloom into the world; that Rosalind had ripped Bloom from you, taken her to a world where she would have no clue of who she was or where she had come from and all for Rosalind’s own lust for power. Farah’s hands shook at her sides and she squeezed them into fists to control the tremors, turning away lest Bloom see the pain she knew must be reflecting in her eyes. 

“Is that true?” Bloom asked. Farah could feel the tears beginning to sting at her tear ducts. If only Bloom knew how dearly Farah wished that she hadn’t been party to that atrocity. “How could you do that? How could you think that killing Burned Ones is more important than people’s lives?”

“Do you think we did it on purpose?” The question was almost spat as Farah turned on Bloom, disbelief colouring her voice. She knew that she had lied to the girl, that she had hidden things from her, but surely Bloom didn’t believe any of them to be so monstrous as to kill with so little care. 

“That’s what Beatrix said, that Rosalind had a crisis of conscience and you did it anyways.” 

There it was. Even after all of the years that had passed and the things that she had taken from Farah, Rosalind was still trying to take what little she had left. Bloom was being poisoned against Farah without Rosalind even having to be there - the woman herself displayed as some sort of hero. It made Farah feel sick just to think of it. 

“Rosalind,” she hissed, turning to retreat towards her desk, “she’s still manipulating people after all these years.” 

“What does that mean?” Bloom asked, frustration clear in her voice. Farah could hear the girl moving closer as she leant on her desk, her back still turned. “Tell me what happened that day.” 

A pause. Farah didn’t know if she had it in her to relive those memories. They weren’t the most painful she had by a long shot, but they were certainly the memories that held the most regret for her. Still, she owed Bloom at least some of the truth and so she steeled herself as she began to speak. 

“That day I made a mistake,” she started, turning slightly towards Bloom, her voice hesitant. “Rosalind was my mentor, the most powerful fairy in Alfea - feared but respected. I never doubted her, never questioned her. So when she told us about the Burned Ones at Aster Dell we followed. The magic we unleashed that day was immensely powerful. Until then, we didn’t know fairies could combine their magic. It was a secret Rosalind kept - not the first. Still, we never questioned her.” Farah paused. It was as though she could hear the thunder still, drumming endlessly in her mind. A flash and she could almost see Aster Dell going up in flames. “She told us she’d taken pains to evacuate the village. She told us only Burned Ones would be killed in the blast. We should have questioned her.” A deep sense of regret tinged her words as Farah stared off, deeply lost in the memory by now. “When we realised what she’d done… what we’d done…” Farah felt her heart constrict with the pain of it. She remembered how she had come home that night and broken down on the bedroom floor. She remembered how you had held her, reassured her, but even then a part of her still felt responsible for the damage that she had caused. “That day has lived in my mind for sixteen years.” 

Bloom didn’t make a sound the whole time that Farah was speaking, her eyes fixed away from her teacher as she tried to take in every word. Though Farah knew she had tainted the trust that Bloom had in her, she hoped that the girl could see that every word that she had said was the truth. 

“Why would she do that? Lie?” Bloom asked, shaking her head as she spoke. It seemed that she was trying to understand, to make sense of what Farah had told her in line with what she had learned from Beatrix. 

“She was a zealot. She wanted every Burned One dead, no matter the cost. She thought if she told us she couldn’t evacuate we’d have said no, and she’d have been right.” 

“What about me? Why did she save me? Why did she put me in the human world? Why did she tell me…”

The questions overwhelmed Farah, her mind reeling from the thought that Bloom truly believed herself to be from Aster Dell. Perhaps she was. Perhaps Farah had got it wrong and Faye truly was dead as she had believed for the past sixteen years. The thing was that Farah didn’t believe that she was wrong. The timelines lined up too perfectly: the timing of Bloom’s birth, her arrival at Alfea, the improvements that you had been making, the effects of the Dragon Flame that she had read of. It was all too well aligned to be mere coincidence. 

Apparently the silence in response to Bloom’s questions riled an anger within her and her voice cut through Farah’s thoughts harshly: “This is why I want to see her. If you can’t give me the answers that I’m looking for…” Her words trailed off and Bloom seemed to rethink her approach. “Beatrix said that you’re keeping her under the school…”

Panic engulfed Farah at the implication that was laced through Bloom’s words. She could not let Rosalind be free. Not after everything that she had done. Not when Farah was so close to getting you back and to knowing for sure if Bloom really was the child that had been taken from you both all of those years ago. 

“Whatever she has to give you is not worth unleashing her back into the world for Bloom.” There was a plea in Farah’s voice as she grasped Bloom’s shoulders, trying with all her might to make the girl see how dangerous that line of thinking was. She only hesitated as she noticed how Bloom pulled back from her slightly, carefully loosening her grip though she kept Bloom in her grasp. 

A moment of quiet passed and Farah considered her options. She couldn’t tell Bloom the truth of what she believed - not yet - but she could give her something. 

“Listen to me Bloom,” she began, a slight tremor in her voice, “I need you to understand something. When I said that I don’t know where you’re from I meant it, though in truth I have a theory. I could be wrong, and I don’t want to give you information that will lead you down a false path.” Farah took a breath, looking into Bloom’s eyes. “I will help you get the answers you need. I give you my word.” 

Farah couldn’t tell if Bloom still held enough trust in her to take her assurances as truth, but she didn’t have the time to question it. Saul had appeared in the open doorway to the office, studying the scene before him for just a moment until his gaze met Farah’s. He didn’t ask any questions, knowing that Farah would explain what was happening there in her own time. 

“We need to go. Now.” His words left no room for argument. 

Bloom turned back to Farah and for the first time Farah noticed the unshed tears in the girl’s eyes. The urge to pull Bloom into her arms bubbled up within her but she pushed it aside. Now was not the time. 

“Tomorrow,” she assured, hoping that Bloom would understand. Then, without another word, she stepped past the fire fairy and followed Saul out into the hall. 

-

Bloom wanted to trust what Dowling had said, that she wanted to help Bloom find her answers. The fact of the matter was that the headmistress didn’t have those answers, only guesses and theories. Rosalind was the only person who knew the truth and Bloom needed to hear it. 

As she stood gazing up at the wall of magic surrounding said fairy though, Bloom had to admit that there was a seed of doubt growing deep within her. Dowling had been scared, Bloom had seen it in her eyes when the headmistress begged her not to risk releasing Rosalind into the world. Could one fairy really be so dangerous as to cause that fear in a woman who had shown nothing but strength and certainty in all of the time that Bloom had known her? 

“Hello Bloom.” The voice resounded in her mind and it was as though Bloom’s doubts were washed away instantly. Rosalind was here. She was real. Bloom had never felt closer to finding the truth that she had been seeking. 

“Rosalind.” 

“I can only imagine how many questions you have for me.” 

“Yeah, just a few.” She didn’t sound like a murderous zealot, Bloom thought. She was offering answers, which was more than anyone else had done for Bloom in all of her time at Alfea. 

“I’ve only got one for you. Do you have any idea how special you are.” As her voice slipped through Bloom’s mind it felt like a soothing balm, slick and easy. What had Dowling been so afraid of? “D’you wanna learn a new trick?” 

“Right… right now?” 

“You need to know where you came from, and I need to get out of here. Now, access that flame inside you.” 

A part of Bloom hesitated for just a moment, the image of Dowling’s wide, panicked eyes flicking to mind. The image shifted and Rosalind’s words from moments ago came back to mind: you need to know where you came from . If she wanted to know the truth then this was the only way. 

Bloom closed her eyes, feeling the flame burning at the very centre of her being. She grasped the feeling, holding it in place, and as she opened her eyes she felt the magic building. 

“Your instincts are telling you that flame will burn you. Your instincts are wrong. Grab onto it.” 

Listening, following, Bloom breathed in sharply, grasping at the magic as it began to grow wider and larger. For a moment it felt warm, then hot - too hot. It built and built until it felt as though it couldn’t grow any larger - a magic that Bloom had never known that she was capable of. 

“Touch the barrier again. You’ve got this.” 

Bloom reached out a hand, then all at once the flame released, catching at the magical barrier before her. Shimmering blue was engulfed by flame and it fell away until standing before her was Rosalind Hale, just as Bloom had seen her in the pictures that she had found. 

Bloom caught at the woman as she wobbled unsteadily, the burning remains of her prison still floating around them both. “You need food, water, rest.” 

“No. I need magic.” The way that she looked at Bloom was almost ravenous and for a split second Bloom wondered if she had made the right decision. “Come, this way, before Farah realises what you’ve done.” 

-

Alfea stood plummeted into chaos. Burned Ones had somehow penetrated the barrier; Farah had a sinking feeling it wasn’t a coincidence. Taking hurried strides to her office, Ben and the young student Aisha at her side, she knew that disaster would strike. As she burst through the doors to her office her eyes fell upon Terra, Musa and Stella, all looking very guilty.

“You have no idea of the trouble you’ve caused.” Farah’s stern voice broke the tense silence.

“We were just trying to find the-” Terra started to explain.

“Not another word!” Ben bellowed, silencing his daughter. “Come with me.” He gestured for them to exit the room. They didn’t hesitate to follow, Aisha trailing after them a few paces behind. The girl seemed to have become unpopular with her friends. 

Farah waited until she was left in silence once more, the footsteps receding into the corridor. Hoping against hope she grabbed a torch and made her way down the swirling stairs. Rosalind had been in stasis for so many years that Farah had started to relax, the prospect of her previous mentor being released into the world once more seeming unlikely if not impossible. She chastised herself for it now; how could she ever have let her guard down? It was precisely this situation she vowed to never find herself in again. Not after what had happened all those years ago, the evening where she’d lost everything.

In the years since, Farah had taken it upon herself to excel at every aspect of magic so as never to leave herself vulnerable. With each step she took leading her down into the crypt she wondered if it had been worth it. If faced with Rosalind now, would she be able to do what was necessary? Farah’s steps grew more urgent, the sound of her boots ricocheting off the walls, piercing the eerie quiet. As soon as the torchlight fell upon the very spot that held Rosalind, Farah’s heart sank. There was nothing there. Rosalind was gone. I should’ve killed her when I had the chance , Farah thought bitterly, a rare streak of darkness washing over her. She stood staring at the empty spot, panic creeping from the corners of her mind - she had to focus to keep it at bay. 

Farah didn’t waste any time in making her way to the stone circle. While it had been more than a decade since she had faced Rosalind, Farah had spent her time well. She would be ready and she had a feeling the first place Rosalind would go was the stone circle. As Farah stepped past the circle she felt her magic tingling at her fingertips. Her eyes scanned the empty space before her, ears sharpening for any sound. She remained still for several moments, listening, but after a short while she turned to leave. 

-

You shot up in bed, gasping for air. Ears ringing, you placed your hands on either side of your head. You were unable to form a single coherent thought, images flashing through your mind as though trying to bring you back to yourself. You felt a comfortable warmth tingle through your limbs, reaching your fingertips. Though it was an unfamiliar sensation, it felt oddly like home. 

Forcing yourself to your feet you swayed dangerously, gripping the bed with both hands. Every muscle in your body felt weaker than you remembered, your limbs stiff with disuse. You let out a groan as you focused on taking steadying breaths. Very slowly the fog in your mind started to clear and Farah’s face materialised. You whispered her name into the darkness of the room, though no reply came. With every breath you started to remember, the flashes of what had passed threatening to bring you to your knees. Faye… You pushed it all away, trying as best you could to focus your mind.

Without pausing to think you pushed yourself out into the corridor, re-familiarising yourself once more with the movement of your limbs, trying as hard as you could to will strength back into them. It was odd, knowing that over a decade had passed you were aware that you shouldn’t even be able to walk, yet here you were. The question sat steadily in your mind but your heart told you to push on - you could find explanations later. Suddenly you were aware of how cold you were, feet bare against the stone tiles of the hallway. A violent shiver wracked your body and you wrapped your arms around yourself. 

Your eyes adjusted quickly to the darkness as you moved. Flashes of light burst through the small windows, distracting you momentarily. Where am I? Your thoughts were hazy, confused at your surroundings. Your eyes fell upon rows of clothing and you felt relief washing over you. Though the walls around you were strange, the interior was not. You realised with a start that it was the image of the changing rooms you once knew so well.  Military uniforms hung in neat rows and you eagerly grabbed hold of one. Without hesitation you shed the white shift that you had awoken in, quickly replacing it with the dark grey uniform. With your hazy memory returning with every breath, you turned around, and your gaze fell upon several shelves with the unmarked boxes you knew so well. Lifting one off you opened it, anticipation mounting. You let out a sigh of relief as you closed your hands around the familiar hilts of combat knives. Though they couldn’t compare to your sword they would have to do; there was no knowing what state things were in outside of these halls - you had to be prepared. Your hands moved with muscle memory as you placed the knives at your belt, thigh and at the side of your boot. 

Comfortably warm and with newfound energy, you made your way down the corridor with pure instinct guiding you. You didn’t stop to question the source of your energy, let alone your ability to stand upright- it was as though an invisible force was pulling at you, and all you could do was to let it take you. Flickers of flame danced within your mind as you blinked, propelling you forward with greater urgency. Finally, you reached the end of the corridor, and you stood facing two heavy doors. Experimentally you prodded them with your hand, relieved to find they swung open at your touch. 

Staring out into the cold evening air it was anything but silent. Eery screeches penetrated your ears and dread settled in your stomach at the knowledge of its source, the memory seared into your brain after one too many encounters with the Burned Ones. Blinking several times, you were relieved to recognise the woods around you. An ear-splitting screech drew your attention and you found yourself running towards the sound. 

Reaching a clearing you suddenly found yourself facing Farah and you froze, staring for several moments in disbelief. A multitude of emotions hit you like a tidal wave and you had to remind yourself to breathe. You considered her in the silence between you, the years that had passed seeming to create a distance between you that you hadn’t expected - a river you were unsure how to cross. To your eyes she was as beautiful as she had always been, perhaps even more beautiful. Her hair showed signs of greying in places, like the silver light of the moon, and the lines around her eyes from years of smiles were so delicate that you wanted to reach out and trace them with the pads of your fingers. 

Farah stared, her mouth opening to speak but unable to form words. Her eyes sparkled and as she smiled that special smile of hers you closed the space that separated you and engulfed her in a bone crushing embrace. Her arms reached around you, holding onto you as if life itself depended on her never letting you go. You couldn’t help the tears that escaped the corners of your eyes for the relief you felt was all-encompassing. Farah croaked out your name as you parted, holding onto each other by the shoulders.

The moment was disrupted as a loud roar seemed to shake the very ground beneath your feet. Moments later a Burned One burst through the trees. You exchanged a glance with Farah who gave a determined nod in return. It was as though the sixteen years that had passed disappeared and the unspoken understanding between you felt like it had never ceased.

A fire burned inside you so strongly that you could practically feel it in your veins. Your hands closed forcefully around the hilts of your knives as a familiar calm settled over you. Standing completely still you waited for the Burned One to make its move. With a roar the creature pounced. You slid over the muddy forest floor between its legs, catching its inner thigh with your blade; though it did little but anger the beast it felt good to know that your skill had not left you. In one swift movement you jumped to your feet as you drove a knife deep into its back. You felt warm liquid splatter your face as you withdrew it. The beast roared in anger and Farah didn’t waste a moment, her magic bursting from her fingertips as she hit it square in the chest. The Burned One screeched loudly as it fell to the ground, dead. 

For several moments you both stood, panting and watching to ensure that the carcass remained still. Farah moved to your side, turning you towards her. She reached into her pocket, withdrawing a handkerchief and started to wipe the blood from your face. You melted into the tenderness of her touch, acutely aware of the years you’d missed being by her side.

With the adrenaline beginning to wear off you could feel yourself growing more overwhelmed by the reality of what had just happened. Emotion bubbled in your throat and you clenched your fists at your side anxiously, trying to regulate the way that you were feeling. “Farah, I…” You started, unsure. “There’s so much we need to talk about… Faye, she-”

“I know, my love.” Farah responded with a reassuring smile, her fingers coming to rest against your cheek. “I’ll explain everything.”

-

Farah led you by the hand to her office, informing you that Ben and Saul would be waiting. You felt oddly nervous at the prospect of seeing them again, unsure of your appearance and not quite so certain of yourself as you had been when around them in the past. 

Upon entering the Headmistress’ office you felt odd, as though the very energy of Rosalind lingered in the air. Your eyes hadn’t missed the plaque at the office door stating ‘Headmistress Dowling’. A rush of pride washed over you: of course she was Headmistress.

Ben was sitting in one of the comfortable seats placed before the desk in the centre of the room, Saul pacing the floor. Both men looked sharply up as the two of you entered the room.

Ben was the first to react, crossing the space in a few long strides, stopping just before you. He stared as though you were some sort of miracle. “Remarkable,” he muttered but caught himself. Grinning at you, he placed a hand on your shoulder. “Glad to have you back.”

Saul’s reaction was slower than Ben’s. For a moment he stood uncertainly where he had stopped in his pacing before he too approached you. The weight of his body crashed into yours as he pulled you into a tight embrace. As he let go he looked at you for a moment, seemingly unable to speak, before he gave you a curt nod and resumed in his pacing.

Farah watched the exchanges with fondness in her eyes before settling herself in front of her desk, leaning back into it. You lowered yourself onto the leather sofa, letting out a deep sigh. 

“We just killed a Burned One. What the hell is going on here?” You asked, your voice filling the silence of the room. 

“You got one?” Saul asked in astonishment.

“Always the surprise, Saul. You wound me.” You said mockingly, clutching your chest. “It seems even after a sixteen year nap I can still out-fight you.” 

Farah chuckled. “She always was better than you.” The air of pride was evident in her voice. You shot her an appreciative grin. 

Saul rolled his eyes whilst Ben and Farah stood laughing. It was as though no time had passed at all, the four of you teasing each other as a way of breaking tense situations. 

After a few moments Farah cleared her throat, bringing the four of you back to earth. 

Suddenly, it felt as though a weight of lead was dropped onto your body, and you felt yourself slipping. The flame that had guided you thus far seemed to dim, yet you knew you were safe. 

“No!” Saul’s voice cut through the silence, grasping your upper arm, preventing you from toppling sideways onto the sofa. Farah leaped from her position against her desk and was by your side in a moment, panic in her eyes as she regarded you. 

Ben knelt before you and patted your cheek rather forcefully to keep you alert. “How are you feeling?” he asked gently. 

“Not great,” you managed to choke out, Farah’s arm reaching around your shoulders, holding you upright. 

Farah looked confused. “She was fine just a minute ago.” 

“Hm.” Ben hummed, seemingly unsure himself. “This is what I would expect. Remember, you have been unconscious for sixteen years. I’m surprised you’re even standing.” Upon considering you he added, “that you were standing.” He rose to his feet. “I’ll go over to the greenhouse to get some supplies that might help you. In the meantime,” he turned his gaze to Farah, “a cup of strong tea may not go amiss.” 

Ben and Saul retreated from the office, the latter offering to help, leaving you in silence as Farah prepared the tea. She carefully handed you a steaming cup, kneeling in front of you as you laid staring at her, afraid to close your eyes. She stroked your cheek affectionately and smiled at you. “How are you feeling?” she asked tentatively as you took a sip of your tea. It felt foreign to feel the hot liquid as it hit your lips after all these years.

“It’s strange,” you began as you held her gaze, pausing to think before you continued. “When I woke up it was like… Like an inherent force in me that urged me to move.” You wrinkled your nose as you struggled to explain. “It was like a flame, one I knew wouldn’t burn me.” You took another sip of your tea. 

Something flashed in Farah’s eyes, as though your comment held great meaning that you did not understand. She looked as though she wanted to speak but she remained silent. 

“Farah?” You urged. 

Handing her the cup she placed it onto the table behind her without uttering a word. She looked hesitant, seemingly debating with herself whether or not she should speak. “I-” she started, her expression growing more determined, “Bloom-”

At the mention of her name, you shot up from your position, the memories of your subconscious mind crashing into you. Immediately you regretted it; your head spun and it took all your effort to suppress the urge to vomit. Farah placed a hand on your back to steady you. 

Your eyes were wide. “Farah, I remember- the dreams.” 

“I remember them too.” She said, though a twinge of hurt crept into her voice. 

“Then you see it as well? Faye is Bloom?” you asked, hope bubbling within you.

Farah’s expression was unsure. “I have had my suspicions, of course. However, I don’t have proof.”  

“Nevermind the proof. Answer me this- how do you feel when she’s near?”

The question seemed to catch her off guard and she fixed you with a curious look. “I want to take her into my arms and tell her it’s all going to be alright.” She admitted. 

There it was- the proof you needed. 

Chapter Text

Bloom wasn’t sure how she felt about Rosalind hiding the two of them from sight in the stone circle. She had told Bloom that her magic was almost entirely drained and yet she had enough power to trick Miss Dowling into thinking that no one was there? It didn’t make sense. 

“I thought you said you were weak, that you couldn’t do magic, but you can make us invisible?” A small voice in the back of Bloom’s mind was beginning to question the validity of everything Rosalind was telling her. Dowling’s words echoed in her mind: she’s still manipulating people after all these years . 

“In the stone circle I can draw on the magic of the land. That’s why I had you bring me here. Recharge the old batteries.” As she spoke, Rosalind held her hands over the centre stone. Sparks of blue magic lit up the darkness of the night, seeming to flow directly into the woman. 

“What happened at Aster Dell?” If there were any way to decide who she could trust, Bloom figured that was the question to point her in the right direction. 

Rosalind paused, watching Bloom. A small smirk tugged at her lips; Bloom didn’t like it. “Everything Farah told you is true. I lied to them. I told them Aster Dell was evacuated - it wasn’t.” 

A sick feeling settled in Bloom’s stomach at that. She had wanted to believe that there was some sort of explanation - that Rosalind wasn’t the monster Miss Dowling made her out to be - but the look on the face of the woman across from her suggested otherwise. “You killed those innocent people?” 

“That’s where it gets complicated. One of the fundamental tenets of the Other World is that only fairies can do magic. The settlers of Aster Dell were the exception. They were humans who drew on sacrifice and death - Blood Witches.” 

“Wait-” All Bloom could think was that none of this made sense with what she had learned from Beatrix. 

“So when the Burned Ones descended on them, I saw my opportunity to destroy them both.” 

“Wait, if the settlers of Aster Dell were witches and my birth parents were fairies then…” 

“You’re right, your parents aren’t from Aster Dell. You were kidnapped by the witches. Your fairy parents were nowhere to be found.” 

Bloom’s mind was reeling. If her parents weren’t in Aster Dell when the village was destroyed then what did that mean? They were in the world somewhere, assuming that she was dead? The way that Rosalind stated it as though it was nothing angered her. She had spent so long trying to find her birth parents this year, always hitting another wall or setback, and here Rosalind was treating the matter as though it was of no importance whatsoever. 

“So they could still be out there? Why didn’t you go looking for them?” The sound of Bloom’s heartbeat was pounding in her head. She could still find her parents. They could be anywhere, perhaps even somewhere close, but Rosalind had known that and done nothing. Bloom couldn’t imagine that any excuse would be enough to make her believe that keeping her from her parents was the best decision for her. 

“You weren’t safe in the Other World. The power inside you is too great, that’s why the witches wanted you - to use your power. That’s why the Burned Ones outside the barrier want you too - to get rid of you before it’s used on them.” 

“They’ve been after me this whole time?” 

“Sucks to be special sometimes doesn’t it?” 

Special . Rosalind kept using that word, as though Bloom were a precious jewel or a rare work of art. The way she said it felt as though Bloom were a possession to be coveted. That voice in the back of her mind piped up, wondering why Rosalind was so interested in her and if the woman’s intentions were as pure as she would have Bloom believe. 

“But you’ve got me now,” Rosalind continued, “and that’s gonna suck for the Burned Ones even more. Are you ready for trick number two?” That smirk was painted on her face again. Bloom tried to push back the discomfort that arose in her at the sight of it. 

Rosalind’s hands were still held over the centre stone, her magic recharging from the power there. After a moment she disconnected herself from it, moving to circle Bloom. 

“Find that flame again,” she instructed, guiding Bloom herself towards the centre stone. “Dig deeper than you ever have before. What you did to free me is just a fraction of the magic you need.” Flames lit in Bloom’s hands as she focused on the power within her, trying with all her might to push it further than she had thus far. She tried to close her mind off to her doubts, needing to learn what Rosalind seemed willing to teach her. “More!” Rosalind ordered. The heat was rising within Bloom again and she felt her breath beginning to catch in her throat in fear. “Let the fire consume you. Keep going.” 

“What if I lose control,” Bloom asked, her voice trembling. Her head was pounding, her vision consumed by flames. 

“Control limits you,” Rosalind reassured. 

“I’m scared…” 

“Good! The moment you start to enjoy that feeling is the moment the world unlocks for you!” There was a sense of glee within Rosalind’s voice, as though she were enjoying Bloom’s fear. Though Bloom still wanted to believe that she hadn’t just freed a madwoman, she was starting to see where Miss Dowling had been coming from when she described Rosalind as such. 

Flames were running up Bloom’s arms now, circling her torso. It was as though she was becoming more fire than person. She panted slightly at the heat overwhelming her, but with it grew an anger. If she was as powerful as Rosalind said then who was to say that Rosalind wasn’t doing this to use her, just as she claimed the Blood Witches had wanted to? 

“A wildfire burns within you Bloom, and with the right people around you…” 

The flames stopped. That was it. Rosalind did want to use her. She was the supposed ‘right person’ . 

Turning on Rosalind, Bloom glared. The woman took a step back, clearly apprehensive. 

“You mean with you.” Bloom stated. “With you around me. You want me to listen to you and trust you and let you guide me? I just met you!” The anger within Bloom sparked again and she clenched her fists at her sides, her voice growing in intensity. “You hid me from Miss Dowling! You didn’t tell anyone I existed! I almost killed my new family because you hid me in the First World with no guidance!” 

Who knew what could have happened had Rosalind just told someone that she was there, in the first world. Maybe Bloom would never have burned down her family home. Maybe Miss Dowling could have stepped in sooner to help. Maybe there wouldn’t have had to be so much uncertainty, so many lies and arguments over who Bloom was and what she deserved to know about herself. 

“The guidance you needed was love. Farah couldn’t give that to you, Vanessa and Michael could.” 

A pause. Bloom’s first thought was that Rosalind was wrong. There had been a lot of tension between Miss Dowling and herself since the start of the year, and a lot of trust lost, but Bloom had a feeling that the headmistress was capable of giving love where it was needed. She didn’t know how she knew that, only that sometimes she would see a look in Miss Dowling’s eyes as though she wanted to reach out and comfort Bloom only for her to then push the thought aside in line with her role. The capacity for love was there though - Bloom knew it. 

It was only when Rosalind mentioned her human parents that that thought was wiped from Bloom’s mind. “You know their names?” 

“I knew they were about to lose a daughter. I gave them a second chance. And I gave you a hiding place from the monsters that wanted you dead.” Rosalind stepped closer then, taking Bloom by the arms. She made eye contact and Bloom felt herself beginning to believe at least some of what the other woman was saying. “I will always, always look out for you Bloom. And when this is over, we’ll find your birth parents together.” Bloom nodded, unsure how else to respond. 

A text from Stella popped up on her phone - the Burned Ones were in the school - and without hesitation Bloom headed off to help. 

-

“I want to take her into my arms and tell her it’s all going to be alright.” Farah admitted. 

A moment passed and neither of you spoke. Farah’s fingers danced absently along the skin of your arm, her eyes following the pattern that she was making. You watched her closely. There was a haunted look in her eyes that you had never seen there before and you began to wonder just what this wonderful woman who you loved so dearly had been through in the time that you had been gone. 

“What…” you paused, uncertain how to ask the question that had embedded itself in your mind. “What happened after I…” 

“That’s a difficult question to answer. Saul, Ben and I have some time missing from our own memories around that point.” Farah sighed as her gaze slowly trailed up to meet your own. “We know that Rosalind took Faye. The next thing we know you were unconscious and nothing we did would wake you. We thought once you healed you would come back, but you didn’t. You only started showing signs of life when…” 

“When what?” 

“When Bloom arrived in Alfea at the beginning of this year.” A frown tugged at Farah’s brow and she took your hand in her own, lacing your fingers together. “I found her in the First World. She had no idea that she was a fairy until she nearly burned the humans who had raised her to a crisp.” 

You nodded slightly as you listened. It was hard to hear that the child you had once carried and dreamed of a life with had been put in such a terrifying position. Whilst you remembered Farah telling you some of this whilst you had been unconscious it felt important that you hear it again, properly this time. 

“Why would Rosalind put her in the First World?” 

“I imagine to ensure that I wouldn’t stumble upon her by accident. She knew that I would assume Faye had been killed and that I would be too consumed by worry for you to question otherwise.” A sad smile pulled at her lips and she leant forwards to press a kiss to your fingers. 

“And the Burned Ones?” you asked, hesitantly. You still vividly remembered the day when you thought they had been wiped out in Aster Dell, when you had returned home to find Farah broken and crying on the floor of your bedroom. “I thought they were gone.” 

“As did we all. The attacks began again around the beginning of the year too.” Another frown, as though Farah were just realising something. 

“Sweetheart? What is it?”

“I’ve been blind,” Farah mumbled, her head shaking slightly as she breathed a sigh. A bitter laugh broke into her voice and she released your hand, dropping her head into both of her own. “The Burned Ones reemerged right after Bloom arrived in the Other World. They’re after her.” 

“They’re after Bloom? But why…?” 

“Her power - Remember that when Rosalind took her Saul said it was because she believed that Faye would possess a great power? We all laughed it off as nonsense but… the power Bloom holds is unlike any I’ve seen before. She has the potential to be more powerful even than Rosalind. A power like that… the Burned Ones fear her. They need to stop her before she can stop them.” 

All of a sudden your chest felt tight, fear constricting your lungs. Just the thought of your daughter being in such perilous danger made you want to push through your weakness to protect her in any way you could. Sensing your distress Farah lay a hand on your shoulder to calm you. 

“There’s something else you should know. After everything that happened we placed Rosalind into a stasis - she couldn’t be trusted to roam the Other World freely. Only earlier tonight, just before we found one another in the forest, Bloom freed her.” 

“What?” A burst of anger shot into your voice and you tried to sit up. Your head spun with the effort and you felt as Farah's gentle hands guided you back down to the seat of the sofa. “Why would she do that?” 

“It seems Rosalind has exceeded herself in her powers of manipulation. Bloom seems to believe that Rosalind was the innocent party in Aster Dell… she also believes that Rosalind is the only person who can help her find her parents.” Farah’s eyes dropped from yours at her last confession. A frown settled across your features. 

“You haven’t told her the truth?” 

“Things have been complicated. I didn’t want to share any theories that I couldn’t prove. She’s been through so much…” 

“Farah.” Your tone was warning and Farah seemed to shrink away from it. 

“I know,” she murmured, looking ashamed. “Perhaps I was afraid to believe the truth myself… I lost you both. Believing that I could get even one of you back was challenging enough, but both of you…” 

Sighing, you reached out a hand to cup her cheek. Your heartbeat quickened at the way she leant into the touch, turning her face to press a kiss to your palm. Gently, you guided her closer, Farah rising onto her knees from where she knelt on the floor beside you. She took in a shaky breath as her nose brushed yours. 

The lights flickered and Farah paused. They flickered again and you both shared a look of concern. That wasn’t right. The power at Alfea never failed. If the lights were going out then that meant that something was brewing. 

“The barrier,” Farah muttered and just like that the moment was broken. 

Almost instantly Farah rose to her feet. No sooner had she done so than Saul burst back into the room with a look of panic on his face. 

“Did you see that?” he asked, eyes locked with Farah’s. 

“We did. Something isn’t right. We need to gather the students and prepare them.” 

“Let me help.” Farah turned on you at the sound of your voice. She looked far less than pleased as you tried to push yourself up to sit once more. 

“You must be joking. Darling, I know that you can handle yourself most of the time, but look at you. You’re in no fit state to…” 

“Farah I’m fine,” you insisted, though you struggled to conceal the way that your body swayed as you sat upright once more. The look in Farah’s eyes told you that she wasn’t buying it. 

“You most certainly are not.” She dropped into the seat beside you, one hand coming to cup your cheek and she made sure that your eyes were fixed on her own. “I only just got you back. Please don’t make me risk losing you again so soon.” Farah pressed her forehead to your own, her eyes slipping shut as she murmured, “I couldn’t bear to lose you again.”

Every fibre of your being wanted to argue, to insist that they needed all of the help that they could get, but you knew what it meant that Farah would show such vulnerability, particularly with Saul still in the room and watching you. Sighing, you nodded against her, watching as a relieved smile pulled at her lips. She leant forward, pressing a quick chaste kiss to the corner of your lips. 

“Farah, we really need to…” 

“Yes Saul, I know.” Gently Farah helped you to lay back on the sofa, brushing a curl of hair from your eyes. Her fingers lingered just a moment too long at your cheek. “I’ll seal the door to keep any undesirable company out. Don’t you dare try to break it down.” You chuckled slightly - she still knew you so very well. 

“Dowling, when you get back we need to have a discussion about how you are my partner, not my mother.” Farah only rolled her eyes, pressing another kiss to your forehead before she and Saul slipped away.

-

Farah’s mind was focused now. It had to be. The magic protecting Alfea had failed, Burned Ones had infiltrated the barrier and now the lives of each and every one of her students and faculty rested on her shoulders. 

At least now, she thought, she had slightly less to be concerned about in terms of you. Yes, you were still weak - that was to be expected after sixteen years in a coma - but you were back. She had held you in her arms, felt your breath against her skin and your heartbeat against her chest. It was enough to allow her some peace of mind. 

Instructions had been given. The courtyard was in the process of being barricaded, with the gates sealed and welded shut. Saul was preparing the students whilst Ben had set up a makeshift triage area and lab. Now all they could do was hope that the Solarians got there quickly. 

As Farah made her way to the upper levels of the courtyard she could hear the hurried footsteps behind her. She knew that it was Bloom, no doubt looking to yell at her yet again about everything that she had done wrong. 

“Miss Dowling?” Bloom asked. Farah steeled herself. She had to stay focussed. She simply didn’t have the capacity to get into an argument with Bloom right now. “I know you’re mad.” 

“An understatement.” Her voice was tense. Of course Farah was angry; Bloom had done the one thing that Farah had categorically told her not to do. 

“Rosalind isn’t the monster you think she is. She had a reason to lie.” If only Bloom knew the truth - she would know that Rosalind was exactly the monster that Farah thought her to be. As though Bloom could sense Farah’s disagreement she grabbed her arm, turning Farah to face her. “The settlers of Aster Dell weren’t innocent. They were Blood Witches, and my birth parents weren’t even there.” 

So that was the story Rosalind was going with. What pained Farah most was the clear belief in Bloom’s tone. She was so young and trusting, it scared Farah how easily swayed Bloom was by Rosalind; it somewhat reminded her of the devotion she had held towards the former headmistress once upon a time. 

“Gosh, she certainly has a way of winning people over doesn’t she?” 

Farah turned away, trying to make some space between herself and Bloom to end the conversation. No such luck. Bloom followed closely, still persisting in her train of thought. 

“Is your ego so fragile that you can’t even consider for a minute that you might be wrong about her.” That had Farah’s blood boiling and she turned back to face Bloom, her features contorted into a look between hurt and disbelief. 

“Rosalind gave you just enough information to string you along. She’s manipulating you Bloom, that’s what she does.” 

“Oh, and what the hell have you been doing? You’re the one who hid information from me, not her.” 

“Then why isn’t she telling me this herself? Why isn’t she by our side helping us fight? Where is she?” 

Bloom’s expression seemed to drop in defeat at the barrage of questions that she had no answers for. Farah didn’t want to make the girl feel stupid - far from it - but she needed Bloom to see that Rosalind was playing a game here, a game that she had started sixteen years ago and still intended to win. 

“She’s still weak,” Bloom tried to argue, though her words held no conviction, “she’s not charged up enough, but she said that when she is…” 

“Wait, so you were in the stone circle.” Realisation hit and, not for the first time that evening, Farah cursed herself for her own foolishness. Sighing, she closed her eyes, trying to calm herself. This was all Rosalind’s doing. She could control everything from the stone circle, Farah knew that. She was doing it again, tearing down everything that Farah cared for. “The stone circle is a conduit to the magic of the land. That magic powers everything at Alfea. Like our electricity, and the barrier.” 

“Wait, are you saying that Rosalind is the reason that the barrier was weak enough for the Burned Ones to get through?” 

As the words left Bloom’s lips a roar was heard throughout the courtyard and Farah’s eyes lifted, scanning the perimeter. This was all her fault. If she had just been honest with Bloom about her suspicions earlier perhaps all of this could have been avoided. Farah gripped the railing before her, finding herself unable to look Bloom in the eye. 

“This is no accident Bloom. Rosalind always has a plan.” 

“They’re after me, you know.” Bloom’s voice was hesitant as she made the confession and Farah turned to her, finding blue eyes filled with guilt staring back at her. The urge to pull Bloom into her arms and comfort her was still simmering just beneath the surface of Farah’s composure, but she held herself back. 

“Yes. I didn’t realise that at first, but I do now. Which means it’s my job to protect you.” 

“But we’re going to fight them, right? Rosalind told me how to fight them.” 

Farah’s instinct was to be harsh in that moment, to place the blame for the situation they now found themselves in on Bloom and hope that it would subdue her into doing as she was told. Beneath that instinct though there lay a thought. Whether Bloom did as she was told or not, there was a chance that things could end badly that night. The question of whether Farah could live without Bloom knowing the truth circled her mind once more and she realised that she couldn’t. 

“Bloom, there is a good chance that many of us could die tonight. I hope that it doesn’t come to that, but in case it does…” her voice trailed off as she tried to find the words. “Earlier I told you that I had a theory about who your parents were. I have no proof, only my experience of a specific night, my knowledge of Rosalind and a series of events that are far too conveniently linked.” 

Bloom gazed up at her, those blue eyes so much like yours, and Farah’s voice caught in her throat. The pause drew out too long for Bloom’s liking and the girl frowned. “So? Who do you think my parents are?” 

“I believe I may be your mother.” The words were out of Farah’s mouth before she could find a way to break it more gently to the girl. Bloom’s eyes seemed to bulge in surprise, her lips parting as though to speak. “It’s a very long and complicated story, one that we do not have time for right now. I just… I cannot risk anything happening to either one of us without you knowing.” 

“But how…? I don’t…” For once, Bloom seemed speechless. Farah almost wanted to laugh at the confusion in her eyes. “Who’s my father? Not Headmaster Silva?” Farah snorted at that, actually laughing this time at the absurdity of that thought. 

“Absolutely not. You don’t have a father.” At the confusion that graced Bloom’s face once more, Farah lay a hesitant hand on her arm. “You have another mother. It’s another very complicated story that I will gladly tell you once this is all over. Hell, if I don’t tell you, your mother certainly will.” a fond smile crept over Farah’s face. When she lifted her eyes to meet Bloom’s once more, she found that there was a softness in Bloom’s expression that she hadn’t seen before. 

Though Farah didn’t want to spoil the moment, she knew that she had to. She was glad that Bloom now knew the truth, but as well as playing the role of mother Farah also had to play the role of headmistress here. Farah’s expression hardened as she surveyed the mass of fairies and specialists darting around in the courtyard beneath in preparation. She was still angry with Bloom, though she didn’t care any less for the girl because of what she had done. 

 “I need you to understand Bloom, that your actions tonight are the reason the school’s in danger. I know that you want to fight the Burned Ones, to make it right, but if you’d like to be helpful I suggest that you join the other fire fairies and weld the gates shut.” Her words left no room for argument and with a look, Farah turned to head away once more. 

-

Bloom was reeling, Farah was her mother? And as though that wasn’t enough, she had another? There was so much she didn’t understand, so much she wanted to ask. A small voice whispered at the back of her mind: were Farah’s words true? Bloom felt lost, confused. Forcing her eyes shut, she considered for several long moments. The more she thought about it, the more she started to believe that Farah had given her more truth than Rosalind. And even Bloom couldn’t discount the creeping fear she felt when around the former Headmistress. Guilt enveloped her then- she had been a fool! If everything Farah had told her about Rosalind was true, then Bloom had made a terrible mistake in setting her free. The feeling was so overwhelming that Bloom hardly knew what to do with herself. Pushing past the questions and the guilt, a sense of calm settled upon her as she decided what she needed to do. She was going to set things right.

Taking in the movements around her, she noticed fellow students running frantically to secure the school. Bloom understood now, they would all be safe if she left, her parents would be safe. She permitted herself the thought; her parents . 

Bloom’s eyes scanned the grounds before her, and her gaze fell upon Aisha and Stella speaking quietly. Stella had her arms crossed and seemed annoyed. Glad some things haven’t changed. 

“So what do you think she’s gonna do?” Stella asked Aisha as Bloom was within earshot.

“Probably something a little reckless and crazy, but for once I’m not gonna do it alone.” Bloom cut through, and two sets of eyes stared at her curiously.

Walking past them, she said, “Come on!”

Only casually glancing at Doris as she had her back turned, the three of them walked into the kitchen in search of the secret passage that Rosalind had told her about. 

Entering the cool evening air, Bloom slowed to a walk. “Come on. We need to make sure the Burned Ones are following me.”

Moving swiftly across the school grounds, Stella trotted uneasily beside Bloom. “My mum’s going to be here soon with an actual army.” She said, worry evident in her voice.

The words did nothing to quell the determination Bloom felt within her. She had to do this, had to do everything she could to prevent the Burned Ones from killing anyone else, especially as she stood at the centre of it all. “They won’t be here in time, Stella. The Burned Ones are after me, they have always been after me.” A roar caused them all to stop. “Rosalind taught me how to stop them, but I have to draw on more magic than I ever have before and…” Bloom swallowed, suddenly afraid. “I don’t know what’s gonna happen when I do.” She said in a whisper. Her gaze flitted between them, landing on Aisha - her clever, sensible friend who always seemed to have an answer to everything.

“It’s ok. I’ll make sure we’re safe, and that you are too.” Aisha said, sure in her words. They had a reassuring effect. “I can surround you with water in case the flames get too big.”

Stella took hold of Bloom’s arm, giving it a reassuring squeeze. “You won’t see us, but we’ll be right here.” 

The dark figures of Burned Ones started emerging in the woods, their howls growing ever closer. The sense of worry within Bloom seemed to mount high with each breath and she turned to her friends and took each of their hands in her own. “Rosalind wants me to believe that she’s the person I need to get through this,” she looked at both her friends in turn, smiling weakly, “she’s not.” 

A roar ripped through the silence, and Bloom gave Aisha and Stella a nod before letting go of their hands, steeling herself. Taking determined strides ahead, she forced worry and doubt away, her mind focussing on the task at hand. Losing herself in a void, her mind empty of thought and sound, she drew upon her magic. As her eyes remained closed she let the flame engulf her and, rather than fearing it, she greeted it like an old friend.

-

You remained still upon the sofa in Farah’s office, gazing up at the tall ceiling. Though the room was quiet, your mind was not. It took nearly all your effort to suppress the urge to sit up and break through the door, even going against Farah’s wishes. What if something happened to her and you lay there, unable to help her? What if something happened to Bloom and you hadn’t been there? The frustration towards your own weakness angered you, warming your chest. 

With a start, you recognised the sensation and you welcomed it with a smile. Comfortable warmth spread throughout your body and this time you didn’t question it. After a few moments you slowly sat up and, to your surprise, your head remained clear. Experimentally, you stretched out your arms, turning them this way and that, testing your own strength. Excitement washed over you as you started to feel more like yourself. You rose to your feet and moved your body, carefully testing your abilities. You let out a laugh, it seemed as though this familiar warmth had acted like a healing balm on your tired body and you were not about to deny it. 

Eagerly, your eyes flitted across the room searching for something, anything to serve you in battle. Your eyes fell on the table, on top of which stood the tray of tea you had shared with Farah only a short time ago. A smile danced on your lips as you lifted the tray away and knelt in front of it. With gentle fingers you lifted the lid, revealing the treasures beneath. Past Farah’s clothing and weapons, your eyes fell at once upon the double-edged sword tucked neatly in its sheath. Your heart clenched at the notion that Farah had kept it with her all those years. With reverence, you lifted it from the crate as though cradling a child and fastened the leather straps around your shoulders. The familiar weight of the sword against your back made you smile, feeling as formidable as you had sixteen years ago.

With a couple of long strides you stood facing the door - the one which Farah had sealed for your own protection. Whispering a silent apology to Farah you kicked the door with your boot in an attempt to break it down. It creaked. Taking a few steps back you heaved a deep breath before running at it, letting your full weight crash against it. The door flew off its hinges, and you fell on top of it with a loud thud. With a groan you rose to your feet, immediately alert to the cacophony of sound coming from the school that seemed to grow only louder now that you had moved beyond the office.

-

“How are you feeling?”

“A bit rough but, you know, I’ll survive.”

“Well, you drew on a great deal of magic last night. You’re bound to feel drained for a day or two so-” 

“I’ve been a brat,” Bloom cut Farah off, her foot bouncing anxiously as she spoke. “I can’t stop thinking about what I said to you last night. You’ve…” she hesitated, “you’ve been incredible to me,” a small laugh filled the pause that followed. “You found me when I was lost, you brought me to a place that was safe, you gave me guidance, y… you surrounded me with amazing people. And I’ve.. I’ve just been…” Bloom stood abruptly, unsure of what to do with herself and feeling the need to move to expend some of the pent up energy within herself.

Farah looked up at her calmly, pausing the girl in her movements. “It’s forgiven.”

A moment of quiet passed as they stared at one another, Bloom looking at Farah in a way she never had before. She wasn’t just the headmistress of the school, nor only the person who had saved Bloom from herself. She was her mother. The thought alone had the questions from the previous night flooding back to her mind and she parted her lips to speak, only to quickly realise that she had no idea where to begin. 

Thankfully for Bloom she wasn’t left floundering for long as a clear knock resounded through the newly reattached door to Farah’s office and you entered without waiting for a response, your eyes fixed on something that you carried in your hands. 

“Farah, I was just talking with Ben and…” Your eyes rose from where they had been focused and you stopped in your tracks. Your gaze pulled from Farah towards the girl sitting opposite her and you felt the breath catch in your throat. 

Bloom looked exactly as Faye had in Farah’s dream. The same red hair as yours, though with less curl to it, the same blue eyes gazing up at you. Unbidden, you felt tears spring to your eyes, your attention flicking back to Farah in your struggle to find words. 

“Darling,” Farah greeted, holding out a hand to you as she rose from her seat, “perfect timing. I think the three of us may have rather a lot to discuss.” 

You didn’t find your voice again until you felt Farah’s fingers close around your own. Her touch had always been a bolstering force for you, giving you strength in situations where you felt little of the sort. 

“Hi,” you managed to choke out as Farah led you over to the leather sofa. Bloom shifted on the table that she had perched herself on, spinning in an attempt to keep you in her sight. 

“Bloom, this is…” 

“Mom?” The girl’s voice was hopeful though hesitant as she looked directly into your eyes. 

A bewildered half-laugh seemed to break from your lips at the name and before you could stop yourself, words spilled out into the open almost of their own accord: “oh my god, she’s American.” Farah turned an amused smirk on you, a moment of silence falling over the room. Then Bloom was laughing, quickly joined by yourself and then Farah. “I’m sorry, it’s just,” you glanced at Farah once more as you lowered yourself onto the sofa, “you didn’t warn me.” 

“Well, that certainly broke the tension,” Farah quipped, settling herself by your side, a hand subtly resting at your back. She turned her attention back to Bloom, finding the girl’s eyes flicking back and forth between the two of you. “I imagine you have some questions for us.” 

Bloom suddenly looked nervous, her gaze falling to the floor as she kept bouncing her knee. She seemed to force her gaze to meet yours, and then Farah’s. “How…” she started, seeming unsure, “how did-” she gestured between the two of you, not quite asking the question, but you smiled knowingly.

“Straight to the point, I like her.” You grinned, exchanging a glance with Farah.

Farah’s hand reached between you, lacing her fingers with yours. “I assume you’re asking how you came to be?” She arched a perfect eyebrow, giving Bloom a subtle smile. 

Bloom’s cheeks reddened slightly. “I mean, er, is it normal for fairies - women - to..”

Sensing Bloom’s panic, you decided to come to her aid. “No, Bloom, it’s not. We didn’t know that it would be possible until I found myself pregnant.”

“You carried me?”

“I did.” You smiled affectionately at the girl. “You are a rarity Bloom; from what Ben told us there hasn’t been another like you in a very long time. When we realised you were the product of both Farah and I, we were so happy.” At that you squeezed Farah’s hand, momentarily feeling the loss of the life you could’ve led together. Meeting Farah’s eyes you could see that she was feeling the same. 

Bloom considered you, watching the small exchanges between you and Farah. “What happened? If you were so happy, why did you give me up? Why didn’t you keep me?”

Farah let out a sigh. “Rosalind.” She paused for a moment. “Somehow she understood that you would be powerful. She wanted that power for herself.”

“We had a plan in place. We were supposed to get you to safety before anything could happen to you but…” The words caught in your throat and you had to stop, biting at your lip to try and calm yourself. “Rosalind took you from us by force,” you admitted quietly. “We had only just named you…” 

Tears formed in Bloom’s eyes and your heart clenched at the sight. “But you didn’t look for me?” the girl asked quietly. The tremor in her voice had you thinking that your heart would shatter. 

“We thought that you were dead Bloom,” Farah explained carefully, “and your mother…” she had to pause, afraid that tears would come if she didn’t. Bloom’s eyes turned to you, worry swirling within them. 

“Rosalind did something. I’ve been unconscious for the last sixteen years.” As the words left your lips you watched as Bloom’s expression contorted into something dark and guilt-ridden. 

“And I set her free…” She spoke in a low whisper, her hands clenching into fists on her knees. “She took me from you… hurt you… and I freed her.” Bloom’s gaze turned to Farah and you saw something pass between them, an understanding that you had somehow missed out on. “No wonder you were so angry with me.”

Farah reached out and took hold of Bloom’s hand, an earnestness in her eyes that couldn’t be denied. “I meant what I said last night Bloom, it’s my job to protect you.” She glanced over at you and smiled before addressing Bloom once more. “It’s our job to protect you.”

“Rosalind won’t be able to hurt you sweetheart, we promise.” You added, smiling reassuringly at her.

Bloom threw herself into Farah’s arms, the fairy freezing for a second in her momentary surprise before she held the girl to her. You hesitated only for a moment before you scooted closer to Farah, pressing your forehead against her temple and curled an arm around Bloom’s back. As you embraced your little family, you felt overwhelmed with emotion at being reunited. The impossible was made possible and the years you had missed seemed to dim slightly. 

“But, wait,” Bloom began after a while, pulling back from you both slowly. You didn’t miss as she dabbed at her eyes with the sleeve of her jacket. “If you were unconscious,” she began, looking up at you, “then how are you… you know, awake?” 

“Well, we’re not quite sure, but we think that I have you to thank for that.” 

Wide eyes blinked at you and a small frown creased Bloom’s brow. “Me?” 

“When I woke I felt a flame inside of myself, pulling me. It pulled me right to Farah.” You glanced up at her then, feeling as the arm that Farah had wrapped around you tightened. 

“But, are you not a fire fairy too? Could that not just be your magic?” She looked so confused and you realised in that moment the mistaken assumption that the girl had made. 

“I’m not a fairy, Bloom.” You confessed, smiling slightly. “All of your magic comes from Farah. The only way that I could have felt that flame is through you.” Bloom’s expression contorted in concentration as she began to make sense of what she was hearing. You reached out a hand, gently trailing your fingers along her cheek. “You may have made some mistakes in the last few days Bloom… in fact, from what I hear, you’ve made rather a lot. But you have also brought me back from a state that might as well have been death. I can’t tell you how grateful I am.” 

Bloom smiled then, a smile that allowed a light to settle over the three of you. There was still much to discuss, hurdles to navigate and there was also still the issue of Rosalind to address. For now though things felt just a little brighter, and for that you were all thankful. 

Chapter Text

The soft hum of the wind gently rippling through the trees filled the air around you, occasional leaves fluttering to the ground from the branches above. You felt oddly hollow standing there, shoulder to shoulder with Farah, your fingers gently touching as you shared a moment's silence for the dead. The mounds of soil before you seemed strange to behold on the grounds of Alfea. The Burned Ones had once been human and the thought of what had happened to them made you sick. 

The sound of a snapping twig tore your attention away, and you turned to see Bloom approaching, her face white as a sheet as her gaze remained fixed on the graves. As Bloom approached you extended your hand. She took it hesitantly, letting you pull her slightly closer.

“I didn’t know they were human. I-” Bloom halted abruptly, seemingly overwhelmed.

Farah placed a gentle hand on the girl’s shoulder. “You saved us all, Bloom. They had not been human in centuries; it was no way to live.” She gave Bloom a sympathetic look. “You freed them.”

Another sound alerted you to another presence behind you and you felt a sense of unease settling over you. Without waiting to see who, or what, was approaching, you drew Bloom behind you forcefully. She let out a sound of protest but you didn’t respond. You and Farah stood shoulder to shoulder once more, shielding Bloom from view.

Stepping out from behind a tree, Rosalind approached you with slow, deliberate steps. “You buried them.” She offered a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “How noble.”

Farah’s expression remained unchanged, seemingly unaffected at seeing Rosalind standing before her. You knew Farah well enough to know that there were emotions about the ex-headmistress that she was keeping well masked behind that expert facade of hers. “Well, it seemed fitting seeing as they were clearly human at one time.” She paused. “But then, you knew about them, didn’t you.”

“I did. I did.”

“Are there more out there?” Farah asked, taking a slow step forwards and positioning herself in front of you and Bloom, who remained close behind you.

“Shit tonne.” Rosalind said casually, clasping her hands in front of her. She seemed to wait for a response but when Farah gave none she continued. “Fine,” her expression was smug as she spoke, “I’ll let you in on a little secret. Just this once. There’s a legend. It’s a thousand years old. That’s how old the Burned Ones are, by the way. They were soldiers from an ancient war. The legend is about the magic used against them. It created them. It’s powerful - primal. The Dragon Flame.” Hunger danced in her eyes as she said it. “It burns inside our changeling friend. Well, your daughter.” She took several steps closer to Farah, peering at you over Farah’s shoulder, eyes glinting mirthlessly. “I assume you finally put the pieces together.” Her voice was mocking, no doubt trying to bait you for a response.

“So that’s why Bloom was able to transform so easily.” Farah said, more to herself perhaps than in response to her former mentor.

“With my guidance, yes. The Burned Ones never stood a chance.”

“You let Burned Ones into the school to test her? Risked the lives of countless students? Risked the life of my daughter?” Farah was outraged, her composure cracking ever so slightly.

“Alfea is not what it once was.” Rosalind cut her off. “I fear you lack the composure to lead the next generation.”

Farah let out a humourless laugh. “And there it is.” Her gaze fixed on Rosalind, a frustrated grimace on her face. Farah took a step closer to Rosalind, towering over the other woman as she looked down on her. “Once I stepped out from under your shadow, I saw a world full of light. Turns out this place isn’t miserable. It was just you.”

“Oh God, don’t pout Farah.” Rosalind stepped back from Farah and started to pace back and forth, her gaze falling onto you occasionally. “You never could quite measure up; not by fault of your own really. I should have seen it back then.” She halted, drawing herself to her full height. “It requires a certain backbone to be headmistress of Alfea.”

You glanced at Farah and could see her jaw clenched with the effort to control her desire to lash out, verbally or otherwise.

“Tell me, Farah, have you accounted for your missing time sixteen years ago?”

Farah remained silent, her fists clenched.

Rosalind seemed to take pleasure in the uncertainty of others, each revelation a triumph of its own to her. It caused a rush of anger in you, wanting nothing more than to bury your sword deep into her chest. You knew, however, that it was your reaction she sought. You remained obstinately still, boots firmly planted on the ground.

At the continued silence Rosalind let out a chuckle. “Oh come on now, Farah, you used the same magic on me. Well, Queen Luna did.” She extended her arms theatrically. “Stasis, of course, coupled with a small memory wipe of a few moments before and after - couldn’t have you remembering me carrying your girl away, could I?” Before either of you had a chance to respond she spoke once more. “I knew that you, along with Ben and Saul, would be a bit of a problem you see, with everything I needed to do with both mother and child.” Her gaze travelled to you, a satisfied smile playing on her lips.

Your mouth suddenly felt terribly dry, anger boiling so close to the surface that you felt you might burst. “And what exactly was it that you wanted from us?” you spat, unable to contain the words any longer.

“Ah, there is a good question.” Rosalind made to step closer to you but Farah was faster, her arm coming across your body and pulling you closer to her and away from the former headmistress. Rosalind rolled her eyes but continued. “The question I asked myself was, how could a non-fairy like yourself possibly give birth to a fairy as powerful as Faye, or excuse me, Bloom?” She peered momentarily at Bloom, still close behind you. Curiously Rosalind reached out a finger, as though wanting to touch your cheek.

This time it was Bloom’s voice that spoke up: “Don’t you touch her!”

“Feisty. Just like her mother.” Rosalind laughed, pulling her hand away. “I needed to know how it was possible. Perhaps you have innate power yet unknown,” she mused.

Farah scoffed, her calm replaced by visible anger, no doubt because Rosalind was now addressing you rather than her. “You have always considered fairies above others, refusing to believe in the strength of humans. It’s your greatest weakness.” She emphasised the last word, as though wishing to strike Rosalind where she knew it would hurt.

“My weakness? You were the one fucking a human and just look where that got you!”

In that moment you felt you understood Rosalind in a way you hadn’t before. You realised that she would never understand love, nor the relationship you had with Farah. For Rosalind every action must lead to a purpose and, to her, a relationship was a hindrance. The hunger for power was what fuelled her, the need to gain it for herself and to take it by any means necessary. Nothing else mattered to her, friendship and love seeming to be foreign and unnecessary obstacles along her path.

With what you considered newfound insight, you addressed Rosalind before Farah could. “Since you seem eager to tell us, what did you find?” you asked with a voice so calm that you even surprised yourself.

The anger that had flashed dangerously in Rosalind’s eyes a moment ago seemed to dim slightly. “You are merely a human, but your heritage is interesting.” She started pacing once more, believing she had regained control of the conversation. “The Dragon Flame is passed through generations, you see, only coming to its full power in specific circumstances. A century ago one of your ancestors bore a child possessing the Dragon Flame. A union between two women, like yourself - a powerful love - as they say.” A look of disgust seemed to momentarily flash across her expression before she continued. “The bond between the mother and child was extraordinary. It’s the reason I took Bloom to the First World and why I elected to ensure that you would remain well and truly out of the way. I had hoped that last part might be permanent… a pity really.”

As the words left her mouth you found yourself struggling to contain your emotions. None of what she had said seemed enough of a reason to you for everything she had done, but then Rosalind only acted for selfish reasons, for her own personal gain. She was calculating and you were sure she had somehow wanted this power for herself.

An odd sense of calm settled over you as you took a step towards Rosalind. Farah uttered your name in warning as she sensed your intent, a worried look flashing in her eyes. You gave her a reassuring smile and squeezed her hand as you stepped past her before approaching Rosalind. 

“Well, if you’re so eager to have me out of the way, Rosalind, what do you say you and I settle this?” Your voice was defiant as you addressed her. You held eye contact, never backing down from that cold gaze as you knew you would have many years ago.

An amused look crossed Rosalind’s features as she considered. “I do like to settle things the old fashioned way.” She unclasped her hands and straightened as she took a step closer “Have you forgotten who taught you everything you know?” She seemed utterly sure of herself, as though thinking you could never be a match for her strength.

“I haven’t. I assume that you remember the condition then. No magic.”

Rosalind circled around you hungrily, as though planning where to strike first. “One amendment though. We fight to kill.”

“Fine.”

A shout of protest caused you to turn your head, catching Bloom struggling against Farah to free herself. Farah held onto Bloom’s arm with a tight grip while her gaze remained fixed on yours. A look of understanding passed between you and you willed yourself to communicate everything you felt in that moment to her. You knew that Farah understood - you had to do this, not only for your family but also for yourself. Rosalind had taken too much. She would only take more were she allowed to live. After a moment, Farah’s gaze softened and she gave a slight nod of approval, hidden from Rosalind’s eyes. You watched for a moment as Farah bent to whisper something into Bloom’s ear before turning to face Rosalind once more. You felt emboldened by Farah’s confidence in you and you felt it settle deep in your heart. You took a deep breath and your mind emptied of thought, seeking the calm of combat as you had countless times before. 

As though she had anticipated this, Rosalind bent to pick up her sword from beneath the bench a few paces away. Slowly, you pulled your own sword from its sheath, relishing in the familiar weight of it in your hands. You stood completely still for a few moments, feeling the adrenaline build within you, your heartbeat pounding in your ears. Rosalind appraised you, a satisfied grin on her face at the prospect of causing you pain. She was clearly convinced that this fight could only end in her favour. 

With a growl you struck, your sword hitting hers with a loud clang. In quick succession you struck again and Rosalind met you easily. As she swung her sword with both hands you ducked and swiped your leg to topple her, but that too she evaded. The focus on your movements and purpose was all-encompassing, the world seemed to fade away as you fought against her. You miscalculated the next move and Rosalind took advantage of your error, hitting your jaw with the hilt of her sword. Your head snapped backwards at the sheer force and you tasted blood. As you turned to face her the blood trickled out of the corner of your mouth. Rosalind’s eyes flicked down towards it, seemingly pleased with her accomplishment. 

In another move that surprised you, Rosalind’s eyes lit bright blue and you were thrown backwards and onto the ground. You should’ve known she wouldn’t keep her word. Your sword slipped from your grasp and you had no time to reach for it. Instead, you pulled a dagger from your belt as Rosalind’s sword fell upon you with such force you struggled to keep it away from your face. You knew your dagger would snap the next time it made contact with her sword and your mind spun desperately, seeking a way out. Looking up at her you knew she believed she had won. 

From the corner of your eye you saw movement and in the next second Farah shouted your name and tossed the sword to you. You caught it by the hilt and rolled away, jumping to your feet. A look you couldn’t quite discern flashed in Rosalind’s eyes but you didn’t give it a second thought as you thrust your sword at her yet again. You welcomed the rage that had simmered so close to the surface, allowing it to fill you and propel you forwards. Everything she had done to you, to Farah, to your family - it could never be forgiven.

With every strike the anger within you mounted, the force of your blows strengthening with every clang of steel on steel. You forced Rosalind backwards and for the first time since you had known her fear flashed in her eyes. You pushed onwards and Rosalind took several staggering steps back. With the gained momentum you kicked her square in the chest and she fell onto the forest floor, her sword tumbling out of her grasp. You let out a cry and, without hesitation, you thrust your sword into her chest with all your might. Kneeling next to her you grasped the hilt forcefully in your hand before leaning down towards her to speak. “This is the price of underestimating me. Farah was right, your greatest weakness is viewing humans as anything less than you. Your narrow minded view of the world was always destined to be your downfall.” You paused, watching her take a ragged breath. “I pity you Rosalind. What a sad life you must have lived, never knowing love. Perhaps in the next life you will.” 

Even after everything she had done and all of the pain she had caused, you didn’t want her to suffer needlessly. You believed in compassion and you didn’t enjoy what you had just done. With a final twist of your sword you pierced her heart and her head dropped back to the earth beneath her, the remnants of life extinguished from her eyes. Your hand slipped from your sword, slick with blood, and you fell back onto your knees, exhausted.  

A cacophony of sound filled the silent air then as Saul, along with several other specialists, burst through the trees with Bloom close at their heels. In the blur of combat you hadn’t noticed her slipping away. Farah fell to her knees next to you, pulling you towards her, not minding the blood that would stain her clothes. Unexpected tears started running down your cheeks - it felt as though the weight of the world had been lifted from your shoulders. Farah pressed her forehead against your temple as her arms wrapped around you in a warm embrace. 

“It’s over, my love.” Farah whispered, pressing a kiss to your temple. At the sound of approaching footsteps you both looked up to see Bloom coming to an abrupt halt before you. Her gaze flickered down to Rosalind’s still form, her eyes wide in surprise. The next moment she fell to the ground, crashing into the both of you in a fierce embrace. Wrapping your arm around her back you and Farah held her close for several long moments. You finally permitted yourself to feel the extent of emotions that you had pushed away in the time since you had awoken. Most of all, sheer and utter relief. The feeling of Bloom in your arms and Farah by your side confirmed that this was real. Farah’s hand that clutched around your shoulder and her lips that pressed another kiss to your temple washed the brutality of combat away - a remedy to your weary heart. It was finally over. Rosalind would never harm you or the two people you loved most in this world ever again.

- 

Stepping back through the doors to the home that you had built with Farah that evening was a strange experience. On the one hand a sense of relief seemed to wash over you as you took that first step across the threshold; this was a place filled with memories of happy times, moments of laughter, the seemingly endless months of your daughter’s journey to life. You felt at ease here - safe. In truth it felt good to be home, yet there was a part of you that did hold reservations about this house. Your final memories of these halls, and particularly your bedroom, were not pleasant ones. A cold shiver traversed the length of your spine at the thought and you pushed it away. It would take time to heal the effects of that memory, but it would pass. This could be a safe place for you again. 

“Welcome home, my love,” Farah murmured, one hand resting at your back as she closed the front door with the other. Her words were warm, yet there was a hesitance in them. You could understand why; it had been a long time since Farah had shared her living space - she must have grown accustomed to the solitude. 

The house looked the same as you remembered - well, almost the same. Your personal possessions - coats and shoes - were noticeably missing from the entrance; still, the rest seemed just as it had always been. As you stepped further into the living room you allowed your fingers to trail over the back of the plush sofa, the soft blanket that lay along the back feeling comforting against your fingers. Across from the sofa you noticed that the fire had already been prepared in the ornate fireplace, ready to be lit at any moment. You imagined Farah having got herself into the habit of readying the fire in the mornings to save herself a job when she returned home from a gruelling day’s work. It made your heart ache to think of the adjustments she had had to make just to live without anyone to support her. 

“Tea?” Farah asked somewhere behind you. You turned to find her watching you, a thoughtful look in her eyes. 

You gave a small nod, a smile pulling at your lips. “I’d love one.” Farah flashed you a smile of her own, kicking off her boots and placing them on the shoe-rack before she padded through the door leading to the kitchen. 

With Farah gone you returned to reacquainting yourself with your home. Slowly you made your way around the room, noting the artwork that hung on the walls - most were the same pieces that you had picked out together when you first moved in, though you spotted one or two new additions. Even the new pieces were beautiful; Farah had always had good taste. On the far wall you smiled to find that the bookcases that spanned the entire wall had only grown more full in your absence. As ever the books were organised by form and author’s name, alphabetical of course. A warmth settled in your chest - it was a comfort to know that Farah still enjoyed a controlled environment. Some things never changed. 

That being said, some things apparently did change. Looking more closely around the room you noticed a few key differences - namely a number of unfamiliar picture frames that seemed to have sprouted on several of the surfaces around the room. As you trailed your fingers along one of the bookshelves, you caught up a picture frame that had not been there the last time that you had set foot in this house. From the depths of the frame your own face beamed out at you. Farah was standing just behind you in the picture, her arms wrapped securely around your waist. She nuzzled her nose into your cheek, the smile on her face one of the softer ones you had seen on her. Oh how you had missed that smile. 

“Are you okay?” As though summoned by thoughts of her, Farah had re-emerged from the kitchen, a cup of tea in each hand, leaning in the doorway as she watched you. She seemed torn on how to act around you, both wanting to give you your space and yet simultaneously appearing eager to be as close to you as she could, as though she were gravitating towards you. 

“This wasn’t here before,” you murmured; a blush coloured Farah’s cheeks as she noted the picture that you held in your hand. 

“You may find a few more of those dotted around the place. They helped…” She paused, her gaze seeming to drift off somewhere distant, though her head was still turned towards you. “Without you it felt so empty here at first.” 

There was a haunted look that slipped over Farah’s features for just a moment. Pain gripped your heart at the sight of it. Though you knew that it wouldn’t have been easy for her without you this was the first time you had begun to see the effect of what Rosalind had done to you. Tears threatened at your eyes but you steeled yourself against them. 

Placing the photograph back on the shelf you shifted from where you stood, heading towards Farah. You paused just before her, gently taking the cups of tea from her grasp and setting them aside. Turning back to her, your hands came to rest at her shoulders as you looked up into her eyes. She had such beautiful eyes, the warmth within them never failing to take your breath away. Your eyes strayed to her lips, your heart hammering in your chest. It still felt somewhat foreign to be so close to her once more. It was like the first time that you had dared to invade her space all over again, feeling as though you were about to spontaneously combust. Slowly you rose up onto your toes to come closer to matching her height and, before you could second guess yourself, your fingers curled around the back of her neck, pulling her to you as you kissed her. 

As your lips met it felt as though everything paused for just a moment. Your eyes slipped shut and you felt as Farah’s arms snaked around your waist, pulling you tightly against her. Pressing closer you allowed your fingers to slip upwards, cupping Farah’s face between your palms. You held her close as her fingers gripped you more tightly. 

“I’ve wanted to do that since the moment I saw you in the woods,” you whispered as you pulled back just enough to speak. Your lips were still close enough that they brushed against Farah’s with each word. 

A shaky sigh fell from Farah’s own lips, her breath fanning out over your cheeks. Careful fingers trailed over your back; she held you as though you were something fragile and liable to break. 

“I’ve thought of kissing you again for so long - I almost thought that you would never…” Her voice trailed off and when you pulled back a little more you watched as a tear tracked down over her cheek. Your heart ached to think of how it must have been for her, all of those years on her own. 

“As if I would ever give up on you, my love,” you reprimanded teasingly. Farah only let out a watery chuckle, brushing another stray tear from her eye. “Whilst I was under Rosalind’s control,” you began hesitantly, “the one thing that kept me going was you. I could hear you, you know. When you visited I heard every word that you said, every story of your students, your time with our friends. I kept going knowing that you were out here living.” Some of the colour seemed to have drained from Farah’s face at your words and a frown creased her forehead as she watched you. 

“You were conscious enough to hear me?” You only nodded in return, your fingers coming to play with the baby hairs at the nape of her neck which had fallen free from her intricate up-do. 

“I could feel the passage of time somewhat, though it was hard to keep track. My mind seemed to flick between memories and wishes of its own accord. I think Rosalind wanted to trap me in what could have been whilst keeping me conscious of what I had lost. She allowed me to hear you so that I would know that I had abandoned you.” Your gaze lowered at the admission - it still stung to think of how long you had been gone. 

“No.” Farah’s voice was firm, her hands slipping from your waist to your arms, gripping your shoulders so as to ensure that you were listening carefully. “You never abandoned me, darling - you were taken from me. You and Faye… Bloom.” Farah’s voice broke upon uttering your daughter’s given name, tears welling in her eyes. “Rosalind’s cruelty took you both from me; I just never imagined that she would go so far as to trap you in your own mind to torture you.” 

You lifted a hand to brush a stray tear from her cheek, leaning in to press your foreheads together. You were home. You were safe. It was over. 

“I’m sorry that I couldn’t bring you back sooner,” Farah whispered. You could hear the clear tone of frustration in her words and thought your heart would break; you knew Farah, and you knew that she blamed herself for what had happened. “If I had only…” 

“Stop. This was not your fault.” The muscles in Farah’s jaw tensed against your fingers and you tried to soothe her with a delicate kiss ghosted over her lips. “I’m here. We’re together.” 

Farah’s gaze locked with your own once more. She was so very close, just as you had dreamed she would be for the past sixteen years. The scent of her clouded your mind: warm, sweet tea, freshly cut grass and the pages of old books. You thought you might weep at the gentle familiarity of it. The warmth of her body was pressed so closely to your own, her soft breaths still dancing along your skin. She was an ocean you could happily drown in. 

All at once Farah’s lips descended on your own once more, her hands beginning to grip at you more insistently than before. You felt yourself melt into her embrace, sighing into the kiss as your own fingers slipped up to find her hair. It felt right to kiss her like this - to let Farah Dowling consume you. 

As the kiss deepened, Farah began to back up towards the sofa, pulling you along with her. She dropped herself onto the seat and you felt yourself pulled down to straddle her lap. Farah’s hands rested at your hips, her fingers shifting to slip beneath your shirt and jacket. Just the touch of her skin on yours sent fire sparking through your veins. 

“Farah,” you whispered against her lips, pulling back ever so slightly. Your breaths were coming deep and heavy, your heart racing in your chest. 

Farah looked up into your eyes, a touch of worry resting beneath the surface. “Is this too much?” she asked, studying you as though looking for physical signs of distress.

“No,” you shook your head. With a small laugh you pressed another slow, lingering kiss to her lips. “You are never too much; I just… I haven’t been able to tell you for sixteen years just how much I love you.” 

Farah’s expression broke into a grin and she pulled you to her again, one of her hands shifting to grip the zip at the neck of your jacket. She tugged lightly, her kisses shortening as she spoke between each one: “may I?” 

You nodded your head furiously, allowing her to pull the zip down before you shrugged the jacket onto the floor. Your shirt followed swiftly after and before you knew it, Farah’s kisses had migrated to your throat as she kissed and sucked at spots that she had always known to make you shudder. Moaning softly as she nipped just beneath your jaw, your fingers strayed to her hair, beginning to pull pins from the beautifully designed style. You wanted to see her long curls tumbling down her back in that graceful way that they always had - you wanted your fingers buried in her hair to keep her close. 

Pulling back from you for just a moment, Farah took in the sight of you. She trailed her fingers down your throat and over your collarbone slowly, as though mapping you out by touch. Her hand came to cup one breast through your bra and you let out a shaky breath at the hungry look that flashed in her eyes. The corners of Farah’s lips quirked up into a smile and she pulled you in for another long, slow kiss. 

“I almost forgot how beautiful you sound when I touch you,” she murmured against your lips.

A thumb trailed over your nipple as she spoke. You couldn’t help but whine at the contact, Farah’s touch at once both familiar and yet somehow foreign after so long. You hadn’t imagined that there would be so much change in this area, yet it felt as though you were having to re-learn the inkling of pleasure that was beginning to coil in your stomach. 

“I forgot how good it felt to be touched by you,” you confessed. 

Farah bumped her nose into yours before stealing another soft kiss from your lips. “Will you allow me to remind you?” 

Another smile lit up your face and you nodded. You reached behind yourself, quickly discarding your bra before wrapping your arms around Farah’s neck once more, pulling her as close to yourself as you could. Skilled fingers were already settling to work teasing at your breast: short nails trailing over sensitive flesh, the pad of a thumb circling your nipple. Each caress had heat pooling in your stomach, your breaths growing shorter. 

Finally pulling the last pins from Farah’s hair you watched as blonde curls elegantly unfurled over her shoulders. Without hesitation you buried your fingers in the glorious mane, tugging  slightly as you pulled her mouth back to your own. Farah let out a sound between a huff and a groan and you laughed into the kiss. 

“Is that the game we’re playing?” Farah asked, her tone aimed at teasing though her own breathlessness smoothed some of the intended effect away. 

“No game,” you rebuked, “I only want you as close as I can get you.” 

A look of understanding crossed Farah’s features and she nodded her head slowly. The hand that was not occupied with fondling your breast slid down your back, pulling you closer on her lap. “Don’t stray too far from me then,” she murmured into your ear, taking your earlobe between her lips and nibbling at it lightly. 

It seemed an age that you remained like that, trading kisses and caresses as you sat half-clothed upon Farah’s lap. You had both adopted a slower pace, so grateful for the time that you had been granted that you didn’t want it to be over again too quickly. As time moved on however you could feel yourself growing impatient for more. 

Farah’s hands rested low on your hips, her thumbs tracing feather-light circles over your abdomen. Each brush of her skin on yours sent heat curling down to the apex of your thighs. You were practically writhing in her lap when you finally felt one of her hands shift from its spot, her fingers coming to rest at the waistband of your combat trousers. 

“Is this alright?” The question was spoken softly, Farah’s fingers resting over the button at your waist. When you looked into her eyes you could see a touch of fear, as though she was afraid that you would say no. 

“Sweetheart,” you whispered, the term of endearment rolling easily from your tongue, “I can think of nothing I want more in this world.” 

Farah was slow and precise in her movements, flicking the button at your waist open and pulling down the zip there as well. Her hazel eyes watched you intently, ever attentive, ensuring that she was not crossing any kind of line. Her hand slipped past your waistband, gentle fingers coming to cup you through your underwear. Though she was barely touching you, your hips rolled forwards into her touch of their own accord. 

“Oh my love,” Farah murmured, noting the sodden state of your underwear as she began to stroke you through the soft fabric. Your stomach muscles clenched at the sensation, a soft cry escaping your lips. 

“Sixteen years,” was all you could choke out as you squeezed your eyes shut, pressing your forehead to Farah’s once more. Farah hummed in understanding. 

Slow strokes gradually gained pressure and momentum, Farah’s fingers moving to focus more closely at your clit. You could practically feel the wetness growing between your thighs, the sensation of pleasure coiling within you growing by the second and Farah hadn’t even touched you directly yet. 

“Please,” you whined softly, your shaking hands gripping to her shoulders. 

“Anything you ask,” Farah assured, her free hand resting on your thigh as the other pulled your underwear aside. 

When Farah finally touched you - really touched you - you were almost embarrassed by the moan that escaped your throat. Your hips rocked into her touch almost immediately, already desperately trying to chase your release. Whilst she kept up her ministrations, Farah kissed you again and again, slow, passionate kisses now, the kind that had always felt like the epitome of love to you. 

Long fingers traced through your folds, collecting your wetness before slipping up to circle your clit in small, quick circles. You moaned into your love’s mouth, nipping at her lip lightly as you felt the pressure building within you. Had this happened under any other circumstances you might have felt ashamed for finding yourself so close to climax so quickly - as it was you were almost surprised that you had held out this long before the familiar pressure began to build within you.

Farah could tell you were close, you could see it in her eyes when she looked at you. She didn’t slow her movements, pressing more firmly into you as she kissed you breathless. The tension within you continued to increase, your hips stuttering in their rocking against Farah’s hand, and after another moment you felt the tension snap as your whole body quivered in your release. 

Everything was still around you, only the sound of your own heavy breathing filling the air. Farah pressed slow, gentle kisses along your skin, seeming to lose herself in you as you gradually came down from the high of your climax. Her hand remained pressed between your thighs, though her fingers now only gently ran along the sensitive skin leading to the crease of your hip, carefully tracing patterns towards your abdomen. 

Curling your fingers beneath her chin you guided Farah to look at you once more, pressing closer until your noses brushed together. “Well, you certainly haven’t lost your touch,” you teased. 

Farah hummed, smiling as she kissed you once more. “How could I forget how to please you? You’re a difficult woman to forget.” 

You could feel the blush rising in your cheeks. Farah’s fingers had lifted to stroke over your hips and lower back, a comfortable tingle following in the wake of her touch. 

Your own hands, which had been tangled in Farah’s hair, carefully freed themselves from amongst the curls. Your fingers trailed down her throat, coming to rest at the zip of Farah’s own jacket. To your surprise Farah’s hand came to cover your own. 

“Maybe later love,” she whispered. A frown creased your forehead as you looked to her, confusion alight in your eyes. Had you done something?

“Your thoughts are incredibly loud,” Farah chuckled. Her eyes were so soft as she took you in once more, both of her hands tracing a path up your body to cup your face. “It isn’t anything that you’ve done, my love. It’s just… you missed so much in the last sixteen years. I want this time to be about you. Just for a little while.” 

The frown softened along your features into a smile: “and if all I want right now is to taste you?” Farah shuddered beneath you, pulling you in and kissing you. 

“Is that what you want?” A nod. Farah took the hand of yours that she still held in her grasp, a twinkle in her eye as she gently guided it to the waistband of her trousers. “Then who am I to deny you?” 

- 

The early morning sun was just beginning to filter in through the cracks in the curtains when you finally stirred. Blinking blearily you rolled onto your stomach, feeling an unfamiliar pull in your back that was more than a little uncomfortable. Strange you thought, that’s definitely new . 

Beside you, you could hear the steady melody of Farah’s breathing, your love still lost to the land of sleep. You turned your head to look at her. She was stretched out on her back, one arm curled over her stomach with the other raised over her head. Right to the sheet that was draped over her from the waist down she was nothing but soft olive skin on full display with not a scrap of clothing in sight. It was a view that you had missed, this woman that you loved so dearly so open and vulnerable in your presence. She was a goddess, there truly was no other way to describe her. 

A soft smile pulled at your lips as contentment settled in your heart. How good it felt to be home - how comforting to be in the one place you had longed for all of these years. Slowly you pulled yourself up to sit, your muscles protesting at the effort of the movement. You tried to ignore the discomfort, putting it down to the years of disuse and the strain of the previous evening. You scanned the room around you - your bedroom, or at least, it had been for many a year. 

Farah had made more changes in here than you had noticed in the living room the previous evening. The walls, once a pale blue, had been re-painted in shades of green. The bed now sat with its head against the windows, its foot turned towards the en suite where once it had faced the hallway. She had kept the old dressing table, sat neatly in the corner at the bottom left of the bed, and had carefully organised her hair products and your lipstick collection upon the surface. The artwork in the room had changed - the old beach landscape that had once hung above your bed now replaced by a woodland scene along the wall that housed the dressing table. There were a few more pictures of the two of you hung upon the walls too, you noticed, and a particularly carefully framed one sitting on Farah’s bedside table amongst her books. You were glad of the changes in truth, the altered atmosphere a distraction from the trauma that you had both lived through within these walls. Farah had breathed new life into a room where your previous one had been ripped from you. 

As you surveyed the room your eyes eventually fell upon the full-length standing mirror that had been placed to the right of the entrance to the en-suite. Its silvered surface caught at a beam of light that had broken through the barrier of the curtains and you realised that you had yet to see yourself since you had woken within the school some hours ago now. Though you didn’t know why, the prospect had your heart stuttering uncomfortably within your chest. 

You moved slowly as you swung your legs from the bed, pushing aside the sheets that you had been tangled up in. Each shift of your body against the mattress had you worrying that you would wake Farah, yet the sound of her breathing remained quiet and even. When you finally stood you breathed a sigh of relief to find that she had not so much as stirred. Carefully you crossed the room until, for the first time in sixteen years, you were confronted with your own visage staring back at you. 

Your face, whilst familiar in the reflection before you, was definitely changed from the view that you had been expecting. The line of your jaw was looser than it had been, the sharpness somewhat softened now. You raised a hand to run your fingers along the flesh there slowly, a soft sigh slipping from your lips. It was strange to see your face shape changed even marginally. 

Continuing your inspection you turned your attention to your hair. Here too things weren’t as you remembered. Though the light dusting of grey that you had noticed in Farah’s hair seemed not to have touched you, the once dark auburn of your curls had lightened slightly, touches of blonde beginning to shine through amongst the red that you had always known. The fingers that had traversed your jaw now slipped upwards, slowly running through your hair, and a slight downturn pulled at your lips. It wasn’t that it looked bad - not at all - but the longer that you studied yourself, the less you seemed to recognise the woman staring back at you. 

A rustle of sheets resounded behind you and your head snapped around to see if Farah had awoken. Unease gripped you at the prospect of being caught appraising yourself as you were. A weight seemed to have begun to settle over your heart in the past few moments and, though you knew that she wouldn’t be critical of you, you were unsure that you could clearly explain to Farah what you were feeling about yourself in this moment if she were to ask. Your eyes flicked over Farah’s face, her features still relaxed and her eyes closed. You let out a relieved sigh as you turned back to the mirror. 

Now your gaze travelled lower, over your shoulders and arms which seemed mostly unchanged. Your breasts appeared somewhat fuller, though you noticed that age had eaten away at their firmness. Your muscle tone too, once well maintained given your strict training schedule, now appeared non-existent; no doubt the years of disuse had softened your form in ways that would take you a while to reacquire. That realisation stung. Unbidden, tears sprang to your eyes, your breath catching in your throat. You dropped your hand to your stomach, curious fingertips poking at the gentle swell that now lay there. You birthed a child not long before falling into your coma you reminded yourself. Still the reality of that did little to ease your discomfort. 

“Darling?” The hesitant tone of Farah’s voice broke the silence and you turned to face her slowly, your arms coming to wrap around your stomach. She sat in your bed, her hair tousled, eyes blinking away sleep as she looked at you. You felt your heart stutter at the sight of her, dark blonde curls falling so effortlessly around her face as she watched you - she was so breathtakingly beautiful. 

“Maybe later love.” Farah’s words from the previous evening echoed in your mind as you studied her and your stomach churned as a sickening fear clamped down on your mind. Had Farah denied you originally because she had seen what you were now seeing? She had said that she wanted to focus on you, yes, but why? A feeling like a cold hand grasping your heart settled in your chest. Could you blame her if she had been disappointed by this body? You were barely a shadow of what you had been now. 

There was something like concern written in Farah’s expression as she noticed the unshed tears in your eyes. She held out a hand to you, beckoning you back to bed. “What’s wrong, my love?” she asked softly. 

Reluctantly you edged closer to the bed, careful not to let your arms slip from your stomach. As you moved you could feel Farah’s gaze trailing after you, intent on your every movement. She studied your posture, your body language, your expression. You could tell that she was growing more worried with each second that passed. 

“It’s nothing,” you tried as you perched on the edge of the bed, though you couldn’t meet her eye as you said it. You could practically feel her gaze on you. 

“It doesn’t look like nothing,” Farah sighed, the bed shifting as she slid closer. You felt as her fingers lifted to tuck your hair behind your ear. The pads of those same fingers followed the line of your jaw to your chin and she guided your face until you met her eyes. “Please love, talk to me.” 

The worry within those hazel depths tugged at your heart and you bit your lip. Unconsciously you tightened the grip of your arms around your stomach, curling your knees up as though to hide yourself more easily. You were afraid to admit it - to tell her of your insecurities. You had always been so sure of yourself before and this newfound doubt was unsettling as it writhed within you. 

For a moment the words wouldn’t come. Farah was patient, her thumb lightly stroking at your cheek whilst she held you in her gaze. You took a breath to calm yourself. Then another. “That was the first time that I’ve seen myself in sixteen years.” 

Almost instantly the worry in Farah’s eyes morphed into confusion. “Seeing yourself upset you?” she asked. 

“A little. I suppose a lot has changed. I look…” You wanted to say old, but that didn’t quite sound right. Yes, you were older, but that wasn’t the problem. Age could be beautiful, Farah was living proof of that - she had only grown more breathtaking in the last sixteen years. “I don’t see me,” you admitted finally, your eyes downcast. 

“Oh, my love,” Farah breathed. In seconds she had pulled you closer, wrapping you up into her arms. The warmth surrounding you was all consuming and, no longer able to suppress it, you felt a tear or two escape your eyes, running down your cheeks though you tried furiously to wipe them away. 

“It… it’s stupid. I know it’s stupid.” The words were slightly muffled by Farah’s neck and you tried to pull back just a little to ensure that she would hear you. “It’s just that before I was so young and strong and fit - I was a warrior. It feels as though I blinked and the girl I had known to be me was gone. And how can I expect you to want me now when I’m…” 

“Don’t you dare.” Her voice was stern as she spoke and Farah looked down at you with such earnestness in her eyes that you almost lost your train of thought. “I know that this must be jarring for you, seeing yourself so changed after such a long time, but you can’t possibly think me so shallow as to have my heart changed by something as natural and beautiful as ageing.” 

Shame washed over you then, the weight of it hanging heavily on your heart. She was right, of course, and yet you were struggling to see beyond the alien form that had stared back at you in the mirror. You knew that Farah loved you - truly loved you - with a passion that lay so much deeper than your outer appearance. She had sat at your bedside for sixteen years, never giving up on you, never once considering leaving you there alone to fade away. The guilt you felt for considering that her heart could be changed by your appearance sat uneasily in your stomach. 

When you turned your attention back to Farah the severity that had been in her moments ago had softened slightly. There was a sadness in her expression that only fuelled your guilt further. She lifted her hand to your cheek, gently tracing the line of your cheekbone with her thumb. “What could you possibly think is bad enough that I would no longer want you?”

Though you hadn’t intended it, your arms tightened around your stomach once more; this time the shift did not escape Farah’s gaze. She sighed deeply as realisation seemed to dawn on her and a small frown etched itself upon her features. Young, strong, fit - body image was a cruel beast and Farah could see now the turmoil that it was sparking within you. Careful hands reached for your own and gently she coaxed you to release your grip, breaking the barrier that you had created for yourself. At first you tried to straighten your posture, sucking in your stomach, but a warning look from Farah convinced you to try and relax once more. 

“Stand up for me.” You frowned slightly but complied, lifting yourself until you stood at the side of the bed once more. Farah shifted until she was sitting on the edge closest to you, her hands gripping your hips as she pulled you to face her. “Good girl,” she praised and you felt a blush rise in your cheeks - Farah only smiled at your response. “Now, I need you to hear me when I tell you this, okay?” You nodded, your hands coming to rest over hers on your hips. “No matter how you have changed, or will change, there is nothing in this world that will take your beauty from you. Particularly not this.” Farah lay her hand against the slight swell at your stomach, her eyes meeting yours from where she sat. “This is not a failure, my love. It is not a loss of those years of training. This is our love, our family, our daughter. This is the most beautiful thing in the world to me, because it binds us.” Closing her eyes, Farah leant forwards, pressing a kiss to your stomach. She lingered there, breathing you in as she kissed you again.

You nodded a little at her words, the truth of them settling within your heart. Gently you carded your fingers through Farah’s hair, smiling slightly as she looked up at you once more. “I have stretch marks now,” you commented softly. 

“My little tiger,” she teased, gently tracing one of the light lines along the side of your stomach. You giggled softly in response. 

“I think it may take some time for me to get used to…” You vaguely indicated to your body, shrugging slightly. “I hear you, and I know you’re right, it’s just…” 

“Different. I know.” Standing from the bed to meet you, Farah wrapped you up in her arms again, holding you close. She pressed a light kiss to your forehead, then one to your lips. “Should those insecurities start creeping in again, will you promise me that you’ll talk to me?” You nodded your agreement. Readjusting may take time, but you knew how lucky you were to have Farah’s support through it all.  

Chapter Text

As the weekend drew on neither you nor Farah seemed inclined to leave the safe little bubble that you had created for yourselves. The burned ones appeared less of an impending threat than they had been and Rosalind was gone, the biggest problem that you had been facing having evaporated with her passing. Moreover, Saul and Ben had practically forbidden Farah from setting foot on school grounds until Monday morning, insisting that the two of you had time to make up for and that two days' rest could only do Farah good. You were grateful to your friends for their insistence. Though you knew that Farah wanted to reacquaint herself with you, you also knew how important her role as headmistress was to her; she would not have had the willpower to stay away had Ben not threatened to tie her up with vines and deposit her right back on your doorstep should she try to enter Alfea too soon. 

It was late on Sunday morning when you both finally pulled yourselves from bed, Farah having dressed for the day out of habit whilst you had opted to just throw on an old, oversized t-shirt of Farah’s to go down and make breakfast. Though it had been some time since you’d had the opportunity to cook anything, you hadn’t lost your touch. By the time Farah came down from dressing there was already a plate of pancakes prepared and waiting for her and her favourite loose leaf tea, which she usually only made on special occasions, was brewing in the pot. You were just reaching to retrieve the cups and saucers from a frankly ridiculously high shelf when you heard a soft hum behind you. The sound sent a shiver running down your spine; you already knew that the t-shirt you were wearing had ridden up high enough for your arse to be on full display and from the sounds of it Farah’s gaze could only have been directed somewhere entirely indecent. 

“Well good morning to you too,” you laughed, dropping back down from your toes as you realised that there was no way that you were ever getting your hands on those cups without scaling the countertop as if it were a climbing wall. Glancing over your shoulder you were entirely unsurprised to find Farah leaning on the breakfast bar, her eyes slowly trailing back up from where they had been affixed only moments ago. You couldn’t help but roll your eyes, blushing softly at the appreciative gaze that was set upon you. “Dowling, are you just going to stand there ogling me or are you actually going to help? Not all of us have been blessed with that statuesque frame of yours you know.” 

With a laugh, Farah slipped around the breakfast bar, advancing until she was standing behind you. She leant forwards slightly as she reached for the china cups, a hand resting low on your back to steady herself. 

“My apologies darling,” she purred as she pressed a kiss to your temple, “I was rather distracted and forgot my manners for a moment there.” 

Glancing up at her you caught a mischievous glint in her eyes. The hand at your back slowly wandered down to your arse as she laid the first cup and saucer on the counter top. 

“You are incorrigible,” you giggled, swatting at her hand lightly. Farah only chuckled as she laid the second cup and saucer next to the first. 

“Can I be blamed for your state of undress?” she asked softly. 

As she spoke, Farah’s hands gripped your hips and turned you to face her, lifting you until you were perched on the counter by the side of the cups. Gentle fingers trailed along your thighs as Farah leaned in to kiss you, your arms curling around her neck to pull her closer. 

“Your pancakes are getting cold,” you warned as you pulled away slightly, your noses bumping as a fond smile curled your lips. 

“Let them,” Farah muttered, stealing another kiss. 

“Okay, but your tea will also be ruined if I leave it to brew much longer.” 

That gave Farah pause. She still seemed to be showing no signs of removing herself from you, yet you could see the silent debate taking place behind her eyes. You knew how it would end; even you were not tempting enough for Farah to risk destroying a perfectly good cup of her favourite tea. 

“Anyone would think you didn’t want my affections,” she teased softly, pressing one last chaste kiss to your lips. 

“Not at all darling, but someone has to ensure that you take care of yourself. I really don’t know how you’ve survived without me all these years.” Though your tone was teasing there was an edge to your words that pulled the mood down ever so slightly. You hadn’t intended it, but referencing your lost time did have a habit of bringing you both back to reality. Perhaps it was too soon for that particular joke. 

Farah stepped back slightly, allowing you to slip from the counter once more. There was that distant look in her eyes again. You hated yourself for being the cause of that look. Carefully, you lifted a hand to cup her cheek, bringing her attention back to you. “Go on then,” you smiled softly, indicating the plate of pancakes on the breakfast bar. “I didn’t stand there making them so that they could sit there looking pretty.” 

A smile pulled at the corners of Farah’s lips, though she rolled her eyes at your implied command. “So bossy this morning,” she commented, a slight laugh in her voice. You had a feeling she was trying to keep things light and you loved her for it. “Is the honeymoon over already?” 

“Honeymoon?” You asked, raising an eyebrow suggestively. “Something you’re not telling me, love?” Farah shook her head with a soft chuckle, though you thought you detected a light blush along her cheeks. Making a mental note of that reaction, you turned and poured the tea through a strainer, carefully handing her cup to her before taking your own and taking a sip as you leant against the kitchen counter. “So, any plans for our last day of solitude?” 

Farah looked up at you, a sparkle in her eyes as she swallowed the mouthful of pancakes that she had been chewing on. She licked her lips and you watched the line that her tongue took as it caught at a spot of syrup that had settled in the corner of her mouth. “I have a few ideas.” The smirk that Farah aimed at you was highly suggestive and you felt yourself gulp down the mouthful of tea that you had just taken. 

You had a feeling that today was going to be eventful. 

-

The sun was warm on your cheeks as you walked around the grounds of Alfea at a quick pace, yet the cold wind rippled through the thin fabric of your jacket. Eager to remain warm you increased your pace, settling into a slow jog along the track. It was Monday and Farah had already had to resume her duties as headmistress. Though she had kept her promise to Saul and Ben, it was the start of a new week and, despite your pouting as you felt her pulling herself from the warmth of your bed in the early hours of the morning, the obligations that she faced as headmistress simply would not wait any longer. 

Deciding against remaining in bed alone you had dressed along with Farah and walked her to the school, stealing a kiss behind the closed doors of her office before leaving her to work. You had spent countless hours training while at Alfea many years ago and it was nice to reacquaint yourself with the school’s surroundings. A run seemed as good a way to do that as any. 

Continuing to run at a comfortable pace, you felt more out of breath than you could remember having been before. At once the incessant whispers of doubt in the back of your mind resurfaced. You had always been proud to be in excellent shape and now you yearned for that feeling of confidence to be returned to you. You could almost hear Farah’s voice in your ear, as though a whisper to quell the doubt starting to settle in your stomach. Though her words had the ability to alleviate some of the uncertainty you knew that getting back into shape would be an important step for you to recognise the person you once were while accepting the time lost.

The sound of approaching footsteps caused you to turn and halt. You were surprised to see Bloom running at a slow trot to catch up with you, her cheeks pink from the exertion. An unexpected wave of affection washed over you as you watched her draw closer. Her coat hung loose around her shoulders, her neck exposed to the cold wind. You wanted to reach out and wrap the coat closer around her but instead you dug your hands into your pockets, smiling at her. “Hello Bloom. Shouldn’t you be in class?”

“Hi,” her voice was slightly breathless as she came to a stop before you. “I have a free period and I saw you running by so…” 

You regarded her for a moment, taking her in; it was almost surreal watching her, her hair so much like yours yet you could see Farah in her too - little expressions and mannerisms that you were so fond of seemed to have taken hold in the genetics of the girl. It made your heart warm to see it. Spotting a bench just ahead you sat down, patting the seat next to you. “How are you?” 

Bloom lowered herself to the seat beside you, her eyes not quite meeting yours. “Mm, I’m ok.” Her knee bounced up and down - a trait you recognised from yourself as being a sign of nervousness.

You waited a few moments, giving her the room to resume, but when she didn’t you asked: “would you like to tell me what’s on your mind?” You were making a conscious effort not to push her, wanting to give her the space she needed while letting her know she could open up to you. 

“What makes you think there’s something on my mind?” Bloom asked. You smiled knowingly - the girl was terrible at hiding her emotions. 

“Call it instinct,” you responded cryptically. 

Bloom sighed, nodding slightly. “Good instincts,” she muttered, pausing for a moment as she seemed to consider how to approach what she wanted to say. “I can’t keep ignoring my life back home and lying to my parents. They deserve to know who I am and what happened to their real daughter. The truth.” She spoke in a low voice, as though she was unsure that she should be speaking to you about this. It hurt a little that she seemed uncertain about being open with you, though you had to remind yourself that this was unchartered territory. Each interaction built a new bridge between you, linking you more strongly than you had been before. The trust would come in time, and that knowledge eased the pain just a little bit. 

You placed your hand on top of Bloom’s, giving it a reassuring squeeze. Eyes like yours looked up and met your gaze. “You’re right, they do. I’m sure I don’t need to tell you that it won’t be easy.” Bloom remained silent so you went on. “They will always be the parents that raised you and loved you like their own Bloom, nothing will ever change that.” You hesitated for a moment. “Farah and I want to be in your life as much as we can too… if that’s what you want, that is.” 

Bloom smiled with a hint of hurt in her eyes that made your heart ache. “I-” she paused, seemingly unsure. For a moment fear gripped your heart, wondering if perhaps that wasn’t what she wanted. You certainly hadn’t been expecting it when the girl asked: “can you come with me? When I tell them, that is.” 

You rose from your seat and Bloom followed suit. “Tell you what, how about you come to our house this evening and we’ll talk about it - perhaps even make a plan?” you suggested, giving her a soft smile. 

Rather than giving you a response, Bloom took a hesitant step closer - instinctively you opened your arms and she immediately stepped into your embrace. Her chin came to rest on your shoulder and you cradled her head briefly as you held her to you. Smiling as you parted, she gave a small wave before turning in the opposite direction of the path and soon she disappeared from view. 

- 

As the evening drew closer you felt increasingly nervous. You had already changed your outfit three times and, though you knew that dinner was coming along nicely, you still kept checking on it incessantly, so afraid that it would all go wrong if you didn’t. Now you were pacing the length of the kitchen, fiddling with your bracelet as you crossed back and forth across the room. Farah sat calmly on a kitchen chair, her gaze following your movements. “Darling, Bloom’s only coming over for a chat. You even made your special vegetarian lasagna.” She rose from her chair coming to stand in front of you, grasping your shoulders gently. “What’s got you so nervous?” 

You didn’t respond but took a step closer to Farah who immediately sensed what you needed and opened her arms for you to step into her embrace. You remained still in the warmth of her arms for several long moments, feeling the weight lifting slightly from your shoulders. What weren’t you nervous about? Somehow the prospect of having Bloom back in your home, where she was born, seemed to weigh heavier on you than you had imagined it would. You were acutely aware that this would be the first time that Bloom had set foot in this place since that awful night - you needed everything to be perfect.

Stepping back from Farah’s embrace you subconsciously let the palm of your hand drop to your stomach. “I just…”

Farah’s eyes fell onto your stomach as though she too momentarily saw images of the years past flashing before her eyes. She lifted her gaze to meet yours, sighing softly. “I know, my love,” she murmured, a slightly mournful tone slipping into her voice.

Suddenly becoming aware of your hand you jerked it away as though your own touch burned. You hated the way that your traitorous body kept drawing you back into this warped part of your mind that could no longer tell when or where you were. “I’m not sure how to explain it, this feeling-” you abruptly paused, meeting Farah’s gaze hesitantly. “I know that sixteen years have passed, and that my body too has lived those years. It feels as though my body is at odds with my mind. There’s a part of me that had been expecting to care for an infant. I suppose I’m struggling to come to terms with the loss of that part of our lives.” You let out a frustrated sigh. “There are moments I catch myself waiting for that ache in my breasts, as if to…” Your eyes cast to the floor, feeling slightly embarrassed at the admission. 

You felt Farah’s soft fingers beneath your chin, forcing you to meet her gaze. “I can hardly begin to imagine what this must be like for you.” She paused, her thumb coming to stroke your cheek. “I’m here,” she whispered, her eyes fixed on yours in a way that made your heart swell. She dropped her hand only to take both yours into her own, her eyes suddenly glinting with mirth. “We could always try for another,” she joked, grinning.

You snorted, glad to lift some of the tension. “I do think we’re possibly a little past that now.” Letting out a chuckle, you continued. “I’m happy Bloom has grown into this beautiful, clever and slightly reckless young woman,” Farah arched an eyebrow at that, “but I need to find a way to reconcile the past and the present and it may take me some time.” You closed the space between you once more, leaning in to place a soft kiss on Farah’s lips. “For the record, I’m not opposed to the act of trying for a baby.” You muttered against her lips, smiling into another kiss. 

Farah hummed, deepening the kiss. Getting lost in the taste of her lips, you were surprised by the knock at the door and you abruptly parted, breathless. 

“Shit! How do I look?” 

Farah looked confused. “How do you-”

“Is my face red? My mouth? Is it obvious we just made out?”

Letting out a laugh, Farah shook her head. “You look absolutely beautiful, my love.”

You merely rolled your eyes as you made your way into the hallway, peeking into the mirror on the way. Thankfully you didn’t look quite as ruffled as you had expected and you were quite sure that Bloom wouldn’t notice. Smoothing down the front of your blouse you felt Farah place a hand at the small of your back in reassurance. 

You opened the door and Bloom stood smiling up at you. “Hi,” she grinned at the two of you. 

“Hello Bloom. Please, come in.” Farah’s voice was warm as she greeted the girl, the sound of it settling your nerves - you were doing this together and the thought put your mind somewhat at ease. 

Bloom’s gaze seemed to take in her surroundings, eyes flitting over bookcases and framed photos on the wall. “This is where you lived when..?” Her voice trailed off as though she was unsure she should’ve asked. 

You gave her a reassuring smile. “Yes, this is our home. You were born here.”

“I was?” Bloom’s eyes were wide in surprise. 

Farah stepped close to you once more, her shoulder pressing into yours. “Are you hungry Bloom? Your m-” she halted abruptly, quickly uttering your name, “...made lasagna.”

“It’s vegetarian,” you added, hoping to smooth over Farah’s near-mistake. 

Bloom just smiled, seemingly unaffected. “Sure, I could eat.” 

As soon as the three of you sat down at the dining table, it was as though all uncertainty had dissipated as swiftly as the morning fog. You chatted easily, and Bloom asked many questions about the past, you and Farah alternating between telling stories, your hands intertwining beneath the table. Watching the girl in amazement as she spoke made you feel silly for being nervous at the start of the evening. She was outgoing and seemed to enjoy a laugh; you felt warmth settling in your chest the longer that you spent in her company. You could almost see the tension starting to lift from Bloom’s shoulders too, comforted by the knowledge that she too was beginning to feel more at ease. 

When dinner had been cleared away you placed steaming cups of tea at the table. “This is Farah’s favourite.” You smiled as you placed one in front of Bloom.

“I like this one too.” Bloom returned your smile, her eyes following the steam rising from her cup as she inhaled the scent that seemed familiar to her. “I’m going home for the weekend to talk to my parents.” The words fell from her in a way that almost seemed to take Bloom by surprise. Her gaze remained fixed on her tea, as though not daring to meet your eyes. 

You exchanged a glance with Farah. Your voice was steady but slow as you finally spoke. “Bloom, I understand that you want to speak to them, but are you sure you want to tell them everything?” You asked carefully.

Bloom seemed to consider for a few moments, her knee bouncing anxiously once more. “Yeah. They deserve the truth - to know what happened to their real daughter.”  

Your heart constricted at the way Bloom bit her lip, uncertainty clearly painted upon her features. “Sweetheart, you are their real daughter.” You had to swallow hard at the lump in your throat threatening to overwhelm you. You knew that they were the words that Bloom needed to hear, and that they were the truth, but it didn’t make it hurt any less to say it. 

Farah’s hand gripped yours tightly beneath the table. “Rosalind alone is responsible for what happened sixteen years ago. Vanessa and Mike lost a daughter too, that night. You filled their lives with joy, even if it was under circumstances less than ideal.” Farah paused momentarily, sharing a long look with you before shifting her gaze to Bloom. “We couldn’t be more grateful to know that you grew up in a home with so much love in the absence of ours.” 

You saw tears glinting in Farah’s eyes and reached over, stroking her back in soothing circles. 

Bloom watched the two of you for a few moments, seeming to consider a question that you knew would be coming after you had spoken with the girl that morning. “Would you come with me this weekend, when I tell them everything?” 

You had considered the request after Bloom had asked the same of you earlier that morning. You felt torn on the matter. Whilst you wanted to be there for her, to hold her hand and support her through one of the most difficult moments in her life, there was a quiet voice in the back of your mind whispering that it wouldn’t be a good idea. Bloom had a lot to tell her parents in the First World, some of which would concern you and Farah, but more that wouldn’t. It didn’t feel like your place to intrude upon such a personal and private moment, particularly given that you had never met these people before. It would be like stepping into the bedroom of a complete stranger and climbing into bed with them. 

When you glanced over to Farah, you could see a similar clash of feelings seemingly battling it out behind her eyes. At least you were both feeling torn on the matter - you would have felt monstrous in your inclination to decline had Farah been set upon agreeing. 

“You know that we want to support you Bloom, in any way that we can,” you began carefully, afraid of turning the girl against you with such a rejection, “but would it not be a little much for your parents to be introduced to us right as they learn that so much of what they have believed for sixteen years is not as they had thought? This has been a lot for Farah and I to come to terms with as it is, and we knew a great deal more than your parents do at present.” 

Bloom’s brow furrowed for a minute as she considered your words. It was clear that that thought hadn’t occurred to her until this very minute. “Maybe,” she shrugged, chewing at her lower lip lightly. “You’re probably right, it’s just… I’m sort of scared to go alone. What if…” 

The apprehension in Bloom’s eyes pulled at your heart and you parted your lips to speak, but Farah got there quicker. “Perhaps you should ask your friends to go with you. Aisha, Stella, Terra, Musa - I know how those girls have formed a support system for you this year.” A tight smile pulled at her lips and you felt the pain that was mirrored in your own heart at having to deny your daughter this. “They would likely be less daunting for your parents to meet, at least for now.” 

To both of your relief, Bloom nodded at Farah’s suggestion, her eyes reflecting a thoughtful consideration. “You’re right, this has all been a lot to take in. I needed time, and it wouldn’t be fair of me to expect them to take everything in all at once. But…” she paused for a moment, seemingly hesitant to ask anything more. 

Carefully you slipped your free hand over the surface of the table, offering it to Bloom. She took it with a small, grateful smile. “What is it sweetheart?” 

“Would you be open to meeting them at some point? Maybe not right away, but I’d… I’d like for you all to meet.” 

A smile pulled at your lips and you nodded enthusiastically. “Of course,” you responded, not a hint of uncertainty evident in your voice. Farah seemed to share your conviction, nodding towards Bloom with a smile. 

As Bloom finally decided to make her exit you felt oddly hollow, somehow wishing you didn’t have to wait several days before seeing her again. Wrapping her arm around your waist, Farah too stared out of the door at Bloom’s retreating form. You turned towards her in her embrace, resting your forehead against hers. “I’m going for a run.”

Farah frowned. “Now? It’s getting quite late.” At the look in your eyes, she gave an understanding nod, knowing that exercising had often been  your chosen way of processing things. 

A short while later you stepped out into the cold evening air, feeling it bite at your cheeks. Stretching for a moment, though not nearly as long as you should have done, you set off in the direction of the woods. You welcomed the slight burn in your lungs as your breaths grew heavier with each step, letting the conversations of the evening set in. While you were relieved that Bloom felt as though she could rely on Farah and yourself, guilt was eating away at you having had to deny your daughter the very first thing that she had asked of you. In your heart you knew that you had wanted to agree, to give Bloom all of the support that she needed, but you had to be the adult in this situation. Bloom’s feelings were not the only ones to be considered here and, headstrong as she was, she was easily distracted from considering the impact that her decisions could have on others. It felt strange to be the one thinking before acting for a change - clearly motherhood had matured you despite the short amount of time you had been given to fill the role. Other thoughts also seemed to intrude as you ran: would Bloom tell her parents everything as she had said she would? Would they understand fairy magic, accepting it all as truth? You had sensed that particular question had been one that was playing on Bloom’s mind and now, try as you might, it seemed to have embedded itself deep in your own, refusing to let you go. 

You had been running for a while, your pace ever increasing as your mind wandered. So engrossed were you in your own thoughts that you forgot to watch your step as you ran. Dodging to your right as you almost collided with a tree trunk, your foot caught in a landscape of tree roots and you tumbled to the ground hard, landing on your shoulder against a large rock. 

Blinding pain shot up your arm, shoulder and neck. You didn’t need to look to know that something was wrong. Letting out a loud groan you tried to move onto your back, but the small movement alone made your head spin as another bolt of pain shot through your body. Your breath caught in your throat; why had you chosen to go for a run at this hour? No one would be out at this time of night, and of course you hadn’t brought a phone. 

Minutes passed as you contemplated what to do, taking steadying breaths to try and settle your heart rate. Realising you couldn’t stay sprawled on the forest floor forever, you braced yourself and rolled onto your back. The pain was excruciating and you let out another loud groan. Suddenly you heard twigs snapping close by and your mind shot to attention as you tried to sit up in an attempt to see who or what was approaching. The movement only caused another bout of pain to shoot through your shoulder and a soft whimper broke from your lips unbidden.

Someone called out your name and you could have wept with relief. “Farah?” 

Farah’s face came into view just above yours as she knelt next to you. Her expression lay somewhere between frustration and worry. “Darling, what happened?” She placed a hand on your shoulder and you flinched away, crying out at the pain. 

“Ah,” you took a shuddering breath, “I think I dislocated my shoulder.” 

As carefully as she could Farah helped you up, her hand gripping yours tightly. 

“How the hell could I be this stupid?” You muttered through the pain.

Farah gripped your hand reassuringly. “It happens,” she soothed. You laughed a little, appreciating the half jibe hidden within her words. Even when you were hurt she would never let you off the hook for the consequences of your impulsive decisions. 

“How did you find me?”

Looking over at you, Farah’s eyes shone bright blue. “I started to worry when you didn’t return, so I followed. I had a feeling you went into the woods.”

You let out a breath. “Good thing you know me so well.”

Farah leaned closer and placed a kiss on your temple. “I’ll call Ben and ask him to meet us at home.” 

After what seemed like an eternity of walking, pain continuing to shoot through your arm at every miniscule movement, your home came into view and you recognised Ben pacing back and forth at the entrance. He came running up to you as you approached, looking tired and a little dishevelled. “Dislocated shoulder?”

You grimaced. “Yes, think so.”

“Let’s get you inside.” Ben smiled tiredly, looking over at Farah who guided you carefully into the house. Once inside she lowered you into a chair, pulling up another to remain close to you. 

Ben regarded you for a few moments, studying your shoulder carefully. “We’ll have to cut off your jacket.” His gaze shifted to Farah. “A pair of scissors?”

As Ben worked you tried your best to hold still. He was slow in his movements, careful as he pulled your ruined jacket away so as not to disturb your arm more than he had to. The whole time your forehead was pressed to Farah’s shoulder, biting your lip as she ran gentle fingers through your hair in an attempt to keep you calm. 

“So,” Ben started as he studied your shoulder more closely now in the light, “Are either of you going to tell me how this happened? It’s nearly the middle of the night for goodness’ sake - what were you doing out in the woods?” 

You could feel the heat rising in your face as you blushed. You didn’t much want to admit to your own impetuous insistence on dealing with your emotional stresses by running alone in the woods in the dead of night. Ben had already spent sixteen years caring for you only for you to call him back again after causing more harm to yourself. He would start to think of you as incompetent if you weren’t careful. 

“Emotions are running high at the minute and I’m apparently not making the smartest choices.” The response was vague, but it was one that allowed you to feel less mortified by your own stupidity. 

“Sounds like you,” Ben chuckled and you raised an eyebrow at him in question. 

“I thought you were supposed to be the nice one. If I call Saul here will he suddenly have had a personality transplant and learned how to be sympathetic?” Farah snorted softly at your side, rolling her eyes at you as you smirked. 

“Glad to know your sense of humour’s still very much in tact,” Ben gently took your arm into his hand, exercising extreme caution as he moved to place his other hand on your back, “though I’m not sure how long that will last. I’ll be honest, this is going to hurt rather a lot.” 

Your body wanted to tense in preparation but you forced your muscles to relax. Farah’s fingers threaded through those of your free hand and she turned you to look at her as she squeezed your hand lightly. “Just pour all of that pain into me, my love,” you heard her whisper into your mind. Not bloody likely . You hadn’t intended to project the thought but the frustrated sigh that expelled itself from Farah let you know that she had heard you all the same. 

“Are you ready?” Ben asked, bracing himself in preparation to snap your arm back into place. 

“As I’ll ever be,” you muttered in response. 

Ben began to count down, giving you the time to prepare yourself for what was to come, though before he had even voiced the number two you heard the sickening crack of the joint snapping back into place and felt white hot pain burn through your shoulder and down your arm. A yowl of pain began to bubble up from your very core, then you saw Farah’s eyes light up like ice sent to cool the fire burning through your bones and suddenly the pain lessened. 

“Farah Dowling, don’t you dare!” You snapped as she grunted softly at the pain that she was leeching from you. “I got myself into this state - I should be the one suffering for it!” 

Despite your remonstrations Farah refused to let up. She simply shook her head, pressing a kiss to the tip of your nose. “You’ve suffered enough,” she muttered. Though she tried to remain stoic, you could see the tension in her gaze and the way that she clenched her jaw as she tried to swallow down her reaction to the pain. 

Shaking your head you sighed. This was so like her, insisting she be the one to suffer in place of anyone else. Farah had a habit of martyring herself - a habit which you couldn’t say you had ever approved of. “Stubborn bloody fairy,” you huffed. You knew that there was only one way to make her lose her focus and break the connection. 

Without warning you pulled your free hand from her own, immediately curling it around the back of Farah’s neck and pulling her into a deep kiss. Farah squeaked in surprise, stiffening for all of a second as she fought to keep her attention on the task at hand. Her attempts were futile, just as you had known they would be. As you nipped lightly at her lower lip you could practically feel Farah’s resolve crumbling, slight twinges of pain spiking in your shoulder. Let go, you projected into her mind and just like that you could feel her reluctantly give in, kissing you as the full force of the pain swarmed back into you. To your credit you managed not to react, prepared this time for the pain that would come. 

“That was a dirty trick,” Farah mumbled against your lips when you finally allowed her to part from you. Though your arm felt as though it had been violently ripped from your body and haphazardly reattached, you still couldn’t help the self-satisfied smirk that pulled at the corners of your lips. 

“I can think of dirtier,” you teased with a wink. Farah bit her lip at the implication. 

The sound of Ben clearing his throat resonated from nearby and you were suddenly very aware of the distraction tactic you had chosen to employ. A light blush coloured Farah’s cheeks as she too remembered your friend who had just realigned your arm stood not particularly far from your impromptu make-out session. 

“Not the usual reaction to that particular procedure,” Ben quipped, “though, in fairness, I’m not sure what else I expected from the two of you.” 

“Don’t you start,” you warned, “and don’t you go thinking that you’re off the hook either. What the hell was that? Three, two, SNAP! What happened to one?” 

Ben held his hands up defensively, taking a step back from you as you shot him a murderous look. “People usually tense on one which would have made the pain far worse.” 

You rolled your eyes, turning to Farah who only inclined her head as if in agreement with Ben. Annoyed, you made to swat at Farah’s thigh only for the sudden movement of your injured arm to slice through you once more and you hissed in pain, quickly pulling your arm close to your body to hold it steady. 

“Ah, yes, you may want to keep that still for a few days. Absolutely no heavy lifting or training for at least three weeks either I’m afraid.” Ben seemed to give both you and Farah a pointed look at the former comment and you couldn’t help but roll your eyes. It was clear what he was implying - that particular arm would be out of action for a while. 

Once he had handed over some pain remedies and recommended rest for a few days, Ben politely decided to take his leave. In truth you were thankful, you were feeling guilty for having called him out so late in the first place. 

“Well then,” Farah started as she turned back from the door that she had just seen Ben out of, “you heard the man. Let’s get you up those stairs and ready for bed.” You quirked an eyebrow suggestively but the act only earned you a pointed glare. “Absolutely not what I meant.” Farah added flatly. 

“But I’m in pain,” you pouted, batting your eyelashes up at Farah from where you sat. “orgasms help with pain!” She didn’t seem at all impressed, though you could just see the amused smile that she was suppressing starting to crack through her disapproving façade. 

Sighing, Farah crossed the room to your side, helping you out of your seat and turning you in the direction of the stairs. “I want you up there and sitting on our bed,” she instructed coolly, pressing a light kiss to the shell of your ear. “I’m going to tidy up down here, then I’ll be up to help you change. The last thing we need is you dislocating your shoulder again trying to dress yourself.” Pausing before she sent you off up the stairs, Farah cupped your cheek in her hand, leaning in to press a slow, sweet kiss to your lips. She looked at you as though just the sight of you was a soothing balm to her as she whispered, “I love you.” 

Though you felt somewhat like a child being sent to her room, there was a part of you which also felt very safe and protected as Farah ushered you towards the stairs. You loved the intimacies that you shared, but there was something about the softness in Farah, her protective and doting side, that had always made you fall just that little bit more in love with her every time she let that side of her slip out into the open. Who knew that after all these years you could still be falling more and more deeply in love with Farah Dowling.

Chapter Text

The living room was darkened by night, only the soft, flickering light of the fire sending a dull glow out into the room. You didn’t know how long you had been curled in the blanket on the sofa. In fact, you didn’t remember what had happened before you had opened your eyes here. Strange you mused to yourself. You must have fallen asleep there, that would explain your addled memory, right? 

Swinging your legs from the sofa, you looked up to the mantle piece to check the time on the clock that sat there. Two in the morning - Farah would already be fast asleep by now. You wondered at why she hadn’t woken you, though you knew yourself to be a deep sleeper - perhaps she hadn’t been able to. With a yawn you lifted yourself to your feet, carefully folding the blanket and laying it neatly over the back of the sofa where it belonged as you turned to head up the stairs. You would just have to hope that Farah wouldn’t tease you too mercilessly in the morning. 

The stairs creaked beneath your weight in familiar places, a soft sense of comfort settling over you at the sound. As you reached the top, you turned down the landing towards your bedroom, a soft light emanating from within. You paused. Farah didn’t usually leave the light on when she slept. 

Almost instantly your senses sharpened, your nerves on edge at the peculiarity of the situation. A frown creased your features and you hesitated for a moment before slowly beginning to advance once more. Unease settled in the pit of your stomach like a stone nestled within your gut. You listened carefully but no sound met your ear. Only, then it did. A shuffling sound. A whimper. That had you hurrying the rest of the distance, bursting into the room with your fists clenched, ready for anything.

“So good of you to join us.” You knew that voice, its sickly lilt curling into your brain, washing over you like oil. The stone in your stomach grew and for a moment you thought you would vomit. 

Rosalind. 

It was impossible. She was dead. You killed her yourself. Wildly your eyes darted around the room but there was no sign of her. No sign of anyone. 

Where was Farah? 

It was then that another realisation hit you. You were in your bedroom, yes, but the room that you were looking around at now was not as it should have been. The walls were painted a pale blue, the bed facing where you stood in the doorway and above its head your eyes caught a familiar beach landscape. This was the bedroom that you had known as yours sixteen years ago. This was wrong. 

“Did you think it was all over?” Rosalind’s mocking tones invaded your mind once more and all of a sudden you heard a thump and a growl to your right. 

Panicking, your eyes darted to the sound. There was Farah, held to the wall by two hulking figures in black, thrashing and growling and trying to free herself. You remembered the sight - Farah trying to get to you as Rosalind took your child from your arms. Faye. Bloom. Tears sprang to your eyes, threatening to drown you. 

“This isn’t real,” you whispered to yourself desperately. You rubbed your eyes as though trying to clear the image. Still Farah fought to free herself - staring helplessly at you as though she was losing everything. “This isn’t real. I lived this long ago. She’s gone. We’re safe.” 

“Or did I just allow you to believe that?” Rosalind’s voice whispered in your mind. “I can paint a pretty fantasy you know, and this delicate little mind of yours is so susceptible to my whims.” 

A pain stabbed within your stomach, the stone that you thought had lain there suddenly morphing into fire. It burned and scorched you, leaving you doubled over in pain. Now the tears began to fall, pouring down your cheeks. You whimpered a plea for it to stop but the only response was that heartless cackle of Rosalind’s ringing in your ears. The pain grew and before you knew it you were curled on the ground, darkness encroaching at the edges of your vision. 

“This isn’t real,” you repeated to yourself in a whisper, though the way your voice shook made you wonder if you believed your own words. “This isn’t real.” 

Darkness. Stillness. The pain slowly subsided and calm took hold of your heart once more. Then you opened your eyes. 

The living room was darkened by night, only the soft, flickering light of the fire sending a dull glow out into the room. You didn’t know how long you had been curled in the blanket on the sofa. In fact, you didn’t remember what had happened before you had opened your eyes here. No, that’s not right. This just happened. 

Dread seemed to engulf you as you practically leapt from the sofa, throwing the blanket down to the floor. You had just done this. You couldn’t be living the same moments again, unless… No . The last time this had happened was before: before you had awoken in the restricted wing, before you had killed Rosalind and gone home to your life with Farah, before the world began to set itself to rights. 

“Or did I just allow you to believe that?” Rosalind’s words from before rang in your ears and you felt sickness overwhelming you. This couldn’t be happening. You couldn’t still be trapped in your head. 

Desperate now, you threw yourself down to your knees by the fire. The flames danced carelessly in the grate, deceptively cheerful in appearance. There was only one way to know for sure if this was real. Without another moment’s hesitation you plunged your hand into the flames. 

- 

Your eyes snapped open as you gasped for air in the darkness of your bedroom. You could feel your chest heaving, panting as though you couldn’t get the air into your lungs quickly enough. Almost instantly you sat bolt upright, your eyes frantically scanning the room as you prayed to any higher power that would listen for it all to have been a dream. It was too dark to tell the colour of the walls, your mind too addled to ascertain the layout of the room, but as you glanced back you found not a painting over your bed but the windows to the outside world, carefully covered by delicate curtains. You thought you would cry with relief at the sight. 

“Darling?” The sleepy voice that broke through the silence drew your attention and you glanced down to find the silhouette of Farah’s head lifted just slightly from her pillow. You didn’t have to see her to know that she was barely awake, the exhaustion of the beginning of the week willing her to allow herself to drop back into the land of slumber. 

You parted your lips to speak but no words would come; only shaky little gasping sounds seemed to spill out of you. The lack of a response was enough to have Farah worried. In a matter of moments her slow, lethargic movements of before were gone and you felt as she sat up next to you, leaning over to turn on the lamp on her bedside table. 

You could only assume that you looked as shaken as you felt. As Farah’s gaze fell upon you in the light her features contorted in concern, her brow furrowing into a frown as she whispered your name softly. “My love, what is it? What happened?” 

Every muscle in your body felt tense as you shook slightly. Your lip quivered as you turned a watery gaze in Farah’s direction and finally you managed to choke out a word or two: “I… I thought…” Tears brimmed more threateningly in your eyes. You swallowed hard, trying to subdue the panic still simmering within you. It wasn’t real. I’m safe . “It was horrible, Farah.” 

Needing comfort you all but threw yourself into Farah’s arms and, ever the protective partner, she sensed your movement before it had even begun. Farah wrapped you up tightly in her embrace, her hand moving to rub soothing circles over your back as she peppered soft kisses over your hair. With your head nestled against her chest you could hear the steady beating of her heart and feel each even intake of breath. Despite yourself, a heavy sob broke from you and you buried your face further into Farah’s chest as you tried to block out the memory of the dream. 

“Oh my love,” Farah cooed softly as she continued to soothe you, “was it a bad dream?” 

Gods, you hated how that sounded. A bad dream. The words made you sound like a child, snivelling and cowering in the dark in fear of the monster under your bed. What you had just experienced was far worse. It had been a memory more than anything else; that dream was a scar left on your mind - a reminder of all of those years helplessly held under Rosalind’s control. Even in death the bitch still managed to haunt your dreams. 

It took you a moment to find your voice again. You forced your tears back, swallowing thickly as you took a deep steadying breath. “I was back there,” you began, your voice cracking momentarily with the strain, though you fought through it. “That place in my head where Rosalind had me trapped. I was caught in the loop again. I could hear her taunting me. I thought… for a moment I believed…” 

You felt as Farah’s grip around you only tightened, her nose nuzzling into your hair as she held you close to her. Shakily, she sighed, pressing another kiss to your hair before muttering: “You believed that you had imagined everything. You believed that you were still a prisoner in your own mind.” You could hear the pain in Farah’s voice as she spoke; the sound alone made you want to exhume Rosalind’s body and rip her to pieces with your bare hands. Farah paused for a moment; she was thinking so loudly that you could practically hear her mind working in the quiet of the night. The clock on your bedside table ticked away quietly, the only sound other than your slowly calming breaths filling the silence. “Ben feared that there would be consequences to what Rosalind did to you.” 

Slowly pulling back from Farah’s embrace, you studied her quizzically. Ben had never said anything to you, though you did have a feeling that he may be talking with Farah behind your back. Though you didn’t like being treated like a child or an invalid, you did somewhat understand. Ben was your friend - hell, he was practically family. He, like Farah, had watched you suffer for so many years that it only seemed right for him to be overprotective now. 

“Consequences such as?” 

“Well, this. Nightmares linked to your trauma, perhaps even moments of PTSD. When you first started showing signs of improvement Ben warned me that the impact of what you had been through was likely to manifest in mental turmoil for you.” She sighed softly then, her hands trailing over your arms, though her left was particularly gentle over your still healing shoulder. 

“Is there anything we can do about it?” Your voice sounded small even to your own ears. You resented the weakness that broke through with it. 

“We cope,” Farah murmured, trying to smile reassuringly at you. As she began to speak again, careful hands came to help you to readjust. Gently Farah guided you to lay back down, propping her own weight onto her elbow as she hovered just above you. “I cannot take your pain away - a pain like this is too complex to be removed or shared. But I can help.” Farah’s hand came to rest over your stomach and for a split second you felt yourself tense up, your muscles only loosening as warm fingers began to rub back and forth over your flesh there. “May I?” she whispered, pressing a kiss to your temple in indication of what she planned on doing. You didn’t hesitate to agree. 

With her eyes locked on your own you watched as Farah’s irises glowed that pretty shade of pale blue. You could feel her stroking gently at the recesses of your mind, carefully edging her way into your thoughts. Then an image began to spread before you - one that you had almost forgotten. It was in the early days of your pregnancy, a slight bump just visible under your combat uniform. You remembered how silly it felt to wear the damn thing when Rosalind wouldn’t allow you to train, but it had grown to be a habit and you felt wrong walking the grounds of Alfea dressed in anything else. Farah had just finished training a small group of fairies in field uses for mind magic and you watched as she strode towards you, sweeping you up into her arms and kissing you breathless right there in front of her entire group. You remembered the thrill that you had experienced in that moment, knowing that Farah loved you enough to so openly express such love in front of a class full of her students. Wolf whistles and a few inappropriate comments were thrown your way but you hadn’t cared. Farah was yours and you were hers and soon you would have a third little being to love and hold. It had been one of the happier moments of your life. 

As Farah slowly retreated from your mind you became aware of the heaviness of your eyelids as tiredness was returned to you once more. Upon waking you had thought you would never sleep again, but with such a warm memory resting in your mind and Farah’s warm fingers still resting comfortingly over your stomach you thought that maybe sleep wouldn’t be so scary after all. “I’ve got you,” you heard Farah whisper as your eyelids fluttered. “I’ll be right here if you need me.” 

Though you tried to whisper your thanks, the warmth of Farah’s body and the easing effect of her words seemed to cushion you as your eyes dropped closed. You could thank her properly in the morning. 

-

You awoke slowly the next morning, your mind entering the realm of consciousness with each steady breath that you took. Without opening your eyes, you felt Farah’s arm draped across your stomach and a wave of gratitude washed over you as you recounted the events of the night before in your mind. You couldn’t imagine how you would’ve survived without her. You felt as though the weight of anxiety had lifted from your chest with the knowledge that Farah was at your side, always and in everything. 

Blinking, your gaze fell upon the large window, the warmth of the sun spilling through the narrow gap between the curtains. Turning your head, your focus shifted to Farah who remained fast asleep next to you looking to be the picture of serenity. Dark blonde waves spilled over her pillow and you resisted the urge to reach out and touch them, the desire to run your fingers through the soft length reverently almost overwhelming. The sun was barely up, and there was still some time before the alarm would wake her; you didn’t want to disturb her peace prematurely. 

Very carefully you lifted Farah’s arm from your waist, laying it down across the mattress as you sat up. Walking into the bathroom you closed the door quietly before starting to undress to take a shower. Your injured shoulder was aching, you noticed. Gingerly you rolled it, feeling the dull ache that seemed to have settled there intensify with the movement. Curious, you pressed your thumb into the joint firmly, hissing at the pain that shot through your arm at the action. It would take a few weeks still before you could use it normally. 

The hot water of the shower had a soothing effect on your body and it felt as though the images that had plagued your dreams were washed away with it. Realising you had spent far too long in the shower you shut it off and reached for a towel. Though you groped around blindly in search of a towel’s fluffy bulk your hand only seemed to meet cold tiles. It was then that you remembered with a quiet groan that there were no towels in the bathroom - they were all neatly stacked on the dresser in the bedroom, clean from yesterday’s washing. 

Sighing and shaking some of the excess water from your body, you tiptoed quickly into the bedroom, careful not to splash water everywhere and soak the carpets in the process. As your hand closed around the soft fabric however, you heard a faint noise behind you. Turning slowly you caught sight of Farah sitting up in bed, her eyebrow arched as she regarded you and a small smile pulling at her lips. You felt yourself unable to move under the intensity of her gaze, fixed to the spot as she took in the sight of you with hunger in her eyes.

“Good morning, beautiful.” She husked.

You felt a shiver run down your spine that had nothing to do with being cold. Droplets of water snaked over your skin as you stood there, a steady stream of it running down your body from your sodden hair, beginning to dampen the carpet beneath you. 

Slowly, Farah rose from the bed and approached you, pressing her body into yours without hesitation. You let out an involuntary gasp as you felt her hardened nipples against yours through the fabric of her nightdress. Long fingers pulled you closer and her lips met yours in a searing kiss, her tongue easily slipping into your mouth as you moaned. She drew your bottom lip between her teeth as she pulled away and it made your head spin with desire to feel the gentle tug. Grasping your waist, she started to guide you towards the bed and you let out a chuckle. “Farah, hang on, I’m all wet!”

“Well, you aren’t quite dripping yet,” she smirked, pulling you down onto the mattress with her, taking care with your injured shoulder. “I plan on doing something about that.”

- 

As you walked across campus later in the day you felt your cheeks blush slightly thinking of your morning with Farah. The memory caused a rush of arousal within you and you shook your head; it amazed you that she still had such an effect on you even after everything that had passed between you.

It was nearing the lunch hour and you had decided to surprise Farah with a picnic - a basket filled with delicious things and a bouquet of flowers in white and different shades of blue held in your grasp. The sun was high in the sky and there wasn’t a cloud in sight, it was the perfect day for lunch out in the open. After a few minutes walk you sat down by an oak tree, placing a blanket on the grassy forest floor. Your eyes travelled to the tree trunk and they immediately found the initials carved there many years ago. You ran your thumb over the letters, fond memories bubbling up in your mind. 

In the distance you recognised Farah approaching, the sight of her causing a comfortable warmth to bloom in your chest at the sight of her. She wore her maroon leather coat which billowed behind her as she walked, an air of authority about her which you had always been attracted to. You rose to your feet as she drew closer, cradling the bouquet of flowers in your arms. Taking another step closer, you placed a light kiss to her lips before extending the flowers to her.

For a moment Farah looked confused, but soon it passed and she flashed you that special smile of hers - a smile she gave only to you, and it made your heart swell. “Darling, these are lovely! Thank you,” she said fondly, reaching out to you, her arm curling around your waist as she placed a soft kiss on your lips. “Whatever are they for?” 

“Must I have a reason to spoil you?” You winked flirtatiously at her, gesturing towards the tree. “I’m glad you understood my cryptic message this morning.” 

Carefully, Farah lowered herself to sit down on the blanket you had laid out, smiling as you sat next to her and drew the basket closer. “How could I ever forget, my love?” 

A memory from years past seemed to draw you away from the present. Farah was young and so were you - only just starting your training under Rosalind’s watchful eyes. Sneaking out late at night had become a habit, relationships between fairies and specialists were forbidden under Rosalind’s regime and it seemed the only time the two of you could get away with it. You pushed Farah against the tree and she let out an “ompf” before you placed your lips on hers in a slow kiss. Parting, you murmured, “I’ve been wanting to do that all day.”

Farah brushed her nose against yours, a bashful smile that was somewhat uncharacteristic of her pulling at her lips. “I’ve missed you.” 

You stood there for several long moments gazing into the depth of Farah’s hazel eyes, realising that you would never love another in this way for as long as you lived. The enormity of it caused a rush of fear - you hadn’t voiced your feelings to her, not like this, and suddenly you worried that she wouldn’t feel the same. Farah seemed to sense the shift in your demeanour, reaching out to place her hand on your cheek. You couldn’t help but close your eyes and lean into her touch.

“What just happened?” she asked curiously, her thumb absently tracing the line of your cheekbone.

You forced your eyes open and met her gaze, hesitating for a moment. “I…” you took a deep breath, “I love you, Farah. I am in love with you.”

Her eyes seemed to glint under the light of the moon and she smiled in that way that always took your breath away. She pressed close until your lips were almost pressed together once more, though she didn’t kiss you as you wished she would. “I love you too, so much,” she whispered, her breath against your cheek as she embraced you. 

Relief washed over you and grew into such joy that you could barely contain it. You lifted Farah off the ground momentarily and she let out a squeal of surprise, laughing as she gently swatted at your shoulder until you placed her down once more. As you parted, you drew one of your short combat knives from your belt, grinning at Farah as she raised an eyebrow at you in question. “How about we make it official?”

Farah’s eyes flitted between you and the knife before following your gaze to the tree trunk behind her. She snorted. “Really? Don’t only the first years do that?” 

“No one will know who it is apart from us,” you winked. 

Farah rolled her eyes but an amused smile spread across her lips.

You were brought out of your reverie as Farah bobbed her finger on your forehead, that same amused smile playing across her lips. “Where did that beautiful mind of yours go?”

Letting out a chuckle you reached out to the tree behind you, once again touching the initials carved there. “I realised that night that I would only ever love you.” Straightening, you laced your fingers with hers. “My feelings for you never wavered Farah and they’ve only grown stronger since.” 

A pretty blush rose in Farah’s cheeks and, to your surprise, a tear rolled down her cheek. You reached out and brushed it away with your thumb, leaning in to kiss the place where it had been as Farah murmured, “My love, there are not enough words to describe my feelings for you.”

It was your turn now to feel heat rising in your cheeks.

“While you were…” Farah hesitated a moment, clearing her throat. “While we were parted, Saul asked me if I’d ever consider dating again.” Her eyes cast down, as though ashamed of the admission. 

You placed gentle fingers beneath her chin, forcing her gaze to meet yours. “It’s alright if you did.” Though you felt a faint twinge in your stomach at the thought, you knew Farah needed your support and you understood that in the time apart it must’ve been lonely for her.

“You misunderstand,” she said more firmly, “the mere notion was completely foreign to me. I could not and cannot imagine my life with anyone but you.” She paused for a second, taking your hand in hers. “Even if I hadn’t been so lucky as to have you with me again, I couldn’t be with anyone else. You are my only love, always.” 

Time seemed to stretch between you as you both seemed to get lost in each other’s gaze. Finally you closed the gap and kissed her, trying to pour all of your feelings into her, showing her how much you loved her in the absence of words. It was a kiss that was so overwhelming that it felt as though your breath was stolen from your lungs until the moment that you parted once more. 

With the mood well and truly set you opened the basket you’d brought, revealing the baked goods hidden within.

“You made scones?” Farah grinned, clearly impressed by the efforts that you had gone to in preparing this impromptu lunch date. “Flowers, scones, tea- you really are spoiling me darling.” She leaned closer and kissed you softly. “You’re so sweet.” 

The next half hour flew by, sharing fond memories of years past and musing on the possibilities of what the future may bring. Too soon, it was time for Farah to leave as she was due for her afternoon classes. You accompanied her to her office, walking hand in hand. Once in her office Farah tugged at your hand, twirling you once before pulling you towards her for a long kiss. You let out a giggle and remained close, neither of you wanting to move. Finally, Farah had the good sense to bring the moment to an end, placing a kiss on your nose as she tried to school her features into something more befitting a headmistress than a lovesick schoolgirl. “I’ll see you later, my love.”

As you walked home you felt almost giddy - butterflies settling in your stomach like a teenager infatuated for the very first time. Farah truly was the only one you would ever love. 

- 

As the rest of the week passed by you found yourself growing restless. Whilst you were at ease in the mornings and evenings when Farah was home for company, far too many hours passed in your days alone where you found yourself itching for something meaningful to do. Housework was only entertaining for so long and, though at first you had busied yourself with refamiliarising yourself with your home and getting an insight into how Farah had been living in your absence, the novelty of that wore off quickly. 

You were missing training. It seemed a silly thing to miss, endless drills and practice fights, but over the years your role as a specialist had become so much a part of who you were that you felt as though a part of you was missing without it. However, with your shoulder still a couple of weeks from any chance of being properly healed, you knew that Ben would have your head for pushing yourself back into it too soon. You had a sneaking suspicion that Farah wouldn’t be best pleased either. That was why, come Sunday afternoon, you found yourself sneaking away under the guise of going for a walk whilst Farah dealt with some marking that she’d been putting off all week. 

The entrance to the school was deserted at this time on a Sunday, with the majority of the staff off campus in their own homes and most of the students either locked away in their rooms or off exploring the wider world. It had always been the same ever since your days as a student at Alfea; that was why you had chosen it as the perfect spot to hide away and run some basic drills in the hopes of freeing your mind from the monotony of a life without purpose. 

On your way over you had retrieved one of the training swords from an old storage shed behind the school and, as you made your way onto the expanse of grass in the middle of the driveway, you twisted it effortlessly in your hand. It’s weight was all wrong and the balance on the thing was abysmal but you reminded yourself that you weren’t pushing yourself here. You simply needed to work yourself up to training again. It would do no good to allow your shoulder to seize up and make breaking back into training even harder when the time came. 

You could practically hear Farah’s voice in your mind as you tried to convince yourself of your reasoning for doing this. “Is that the excuse you’re going with?” You couldn’t help but chuckle at the thought. She was probably right, it was a weak excuse, but it was one that you were set on regardless. 

Gripping the wooden sword you settled yourself into your first position: legs shoulder width apart, knees bent, weight centred but resting on your dominant leg, sword gripped in both hands and held across your body in a defensive stance. You could feel a slight pull in your shoulder the longer that you held the position but you tried to stretch it out as you moved into position two. Transferring your weight you stepped forwards, releasing the grip of your left hand on the sword and thrusting the wooden blade forwards with your right arm as you stepped through onto your other foot. The thrust of your arm seemed to relieve the tension in your shoulder and you hummed softly at the satisfying stretch along your shoulder blade. You could only assume that such a feeling was a good sign. 

For ten minutes or so your drills seemed to run smoothly, so much so in fact that you almost didn’t hear the approach of five sets of footsteps advancing from outside of the school gates. Had it not been for the giggling that accompanied them you may have been too engrossed to pay your audience much attention, but as you dropped down, sweeping your leg across the ground with your weight balanced on your good arm, the growing sound of laughter caught your ear and you glanced up to find Bloom and her friends coming to a stop not far from you, each taking you in with varied expressions painted on their faces. 

“That looks a bit basic by your standards,” Bloom commented after a short pause, a look of confusion turned on you. 

“By my usual standards I would agree, but given a recent shoulder injury this is all I can really do. Frankly, if Ben or Farah found out I was even doing this I think I may just end up back in that coma for the good of my health.” You swept your gaze across the group, adding almost as an afterthought: “not a word from any of you!” That gained you a laugh as the other girls said their goodbyes to Bloom, turning to head up to their suite, leaving you alone with your daughter. 

Bloom seemed hesitant to catch up to her friends, the girl shuffling her feet in the gravel of the driveway as she watched you give the wooden sword in your hand one final flourish and retrieve your jacket from where you had chucked it aside. You got the feeling that she simultaneously wanted to talk and yet was nervous about doing so. Slipping your jacket back on carefully, you stepped over to her, flashing her a reassuring smile as you turned her back in the direction you had come in a short while ago. 

“Will you walk me back to the house? We could talk about how your weekend went.” 

Your offer appeared to set Bloom more at ease and as you began to walk she recounted the events of the past day and a half. Hearing of Vanessa and Michael’s initial joy at having their daughter home was a comfort; knowing that they cared so deeply for your child that being parted from her had been a challenge for them left a strange warmth to settle in your heart. Bloom told of how she had explained everything that she had learned about herself: that she wasn’t their biological daughter, that she had been born to fairy parents and given to Michael and Vanessa when their own daughter had died, that the fire in their home had been her fault and that, when she had left, she hadn’t been in any old fancy private school but one specialising in fairy magic located in another realm entirely. From the way that Bloom explained it, her human parents had taken the news about as well as anyone form the First World could be expected to. 

“It was hard,” the girl confessed at one point, “seeing them look at me as though they were seeing me for the first time. When I told my mom that the fire had been my fault I thought she might never be able to forgive me. The way that she moved away from me…” Bloom’s eyes lowered and you placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. 

“No mother could ever hold that against you Bloom. You didn’t know the truth or what you were capable of.” 

“I know. Mom said the same, just that it was a shock and that she would be alright.” A sad smile pulled at her lips and, unable to stop yourself, you allowed the hand on her arm to slip further until you had her pulled to you by her shoulders, still walking with your arm around her. To your surprise Bloom’s head fell to rest on your shoulder easily. 

For a moment quiet fell between you, only broken when you found the courage to ask your next question: “Did you tell them of the extent of your power?” 

Bloom laughed softly. “You mean, did I tell them that I killed an entire army of creatures that had been wreaking havoc in the woods around the school all year? No. I didn’t think they could cope with finding out that their daughter was a fairy and a murderer all in one day.” 

You could hear the touch of dark humour in her words but still you murmured her name with a tone of remonstration. Bloom muttered a quick apology in return, though you had an inkling that she wasn’t really all that sorry. She wasn’t a murderer, but you could see how it may feel that way to one so young and inexperienced. 

As you neared your home Bloom was just finishing telling you of how she had enjoyed the rest of her weekend once her parents had assured her that she hadn’t lost them having told them the truth. It had been a weight lifted from her in a way, now that she was able to be truthful with them about what was actually going on in her life. Apparently, for the rest of the weekend, she had been showing her friends around her hometown, indulging in what she referred to as ‘typical trashy tourist stuff’. If you were honest, it sounded less enjoyable than Bloom seemed to have found it, but you were pleased that she seemed so content and you told her as much. 

Stepping in through the front door you found the house sitting in near silence. The lack of noise wasn’t unusual when Farah was working, though you sensed that Bloom seemed a little uneasy with it given that you had told her Farah would be in. Smiling at the way that the girl seemed to worry for you both after such a short time of really knowing you, you placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder, squeezing it lightly. 

“I’m home, love,” you called out into the house. No response, though you heard a rustling sound from upstairs. “She must be in her study,” you told Bloom. A glint of mischief entered your eyes then, a memory from long ago creeping into your mind of when you and Farah had first moved in together and you had built a habit of bringing stray cats home with you from your walks. The urge to tease your love was too overwhelming and so you called out for a second time: “I brought someone home with me.” 

Silence. A moment passed. You could practically imagine Farah sat in her desk chair, the memory of those early days of your cohabitation playing through her mind. You imagined that sweet look of exasperation passing over her features, then you heard as footsteps advanced across the landing and Farah began to make her way down the stairs. 

“Darling, if I come down there and find you with even one cat in your arms…” The thought died on Farah’s lips as she caught sight of you in the doorway with Bloom by your side. The look of exasperation that you had imagined seemed to wipe itself from Farah’s face as she laid eyes on your daughter and she smiled softly. “Bloom. When did you get back?” 

“Just now. I wanted to stop by and have a word with you both, actually.” She paused then, turning to you with a confused frown furrowing her brow. “Cats?” She asked cautiously, seemingly unsure whether she wanted to know what Farah had been talking about. 

“It’s a long story,” you chuckled, “but the short version is that you got your impulsiveness from me.” 

“Right,” Bloom said hesitantly. As though her mood had turned on a switch, Bloom suddenly appeared nervous, her eye line downcast as she fiddled with the hem of her skirt absently. “Speaking of impulsiveness,” she started, glancing up to catch Farah’s eye, “I may have done something that fits into that category again.” 

As you watched Farah’s eyebrow rise in question you had to purse your lips to keep from grinning like the cheshire cat. Poor Farah - you’d somehow managed to saddle her with twice as much impetuous chaos in her life having passed that particular trait onto your daughter. Ever patient though, Farah simply sighed as she levelled her gaze with Bloom’s. 

“Would you care to elaborate?” 

“So, um, I know that I said that you guys didn’t have to meet my parents right away when I asked if you would meet them. I meant it when I said it, really I did, but when I told them that I’d met you guys they were interested to meet you, and you weren’t there for me to ask, so I just kind of,” she paused for a moment, glancing sheepishly up at you both, “invited them to visit next weekend.” 

Farah slowly turned to you then and for a minute you braced yourself, uncertain of what was to come. The expression that met yours wasn’t quite as flustered as you had expected, however. Instead you found her appraising your reaction. Pausing, you tried to assess how you felt about the situation yourself. 

A week wasn’t a particularly long time you realised, and to some extent it did make you anxious to think that you only had a week to prepare until meeting the people who had raised your child. You didn’t know how much Bloom had told her parents about you and Farah or the situation that you had been in for Bloom to have been put into their care - you realised that Bloom had steered clear of that particular topic on the way over, a fact which worried you. Overall though, you almost felt excited. Being given an opportunity to meet the people who had raised your baby, who had guided her to become the young woman that she was, was the closest you would ever get to experiencing Bloom’s childhood. You were eager to know what she had been like as a baby, a toddler and even through the awkward early stages of her teenage years. In short, you weren’t as daunted by the prospect of meeting Bloom’s parents as you had imagined you would be. 

A smile pulled at your lips as you met Farah’s eye and you were relieved to watch as her own carefully guarded expression melted into one not unlike your own. Apparently she had been waiting to understand your feelings on the topic before allowing her own to seep out into the open. Turning back to Bloom, you found the girl watching you with wide, anxious eyes. Her worry only seemed to soften as she was finally met with your smile. 

“We’d both really like to meet them just so long as you’re ready,” you assured her, feeling as Farah’s hand came to rest on your lower back. “Would you like us to help you plan for their visit?” 

Bloom nodded, a little bemused but mostly just grateful that you had both responded so well to her spur of the moment decision. 

The afternoon drew on and, once Bloom was satisfied that her parents’ visit would go off without a hitch, she finally said her goodbyes and headed back to her suite to prepare for a week of classes. Both you and Farah were a little anxious about the prospect of what the next weekend would bring, but your excitement eased the strain of those anxieties and as you settled down to bed that night you both agreed that the meeting would be good for you and for Bloom in the long run. 

Chapter Text

As the days drew closer to the weekend and to the much anticipated visit of Bloom’s parents you felt oddly calm about the whole event. You’d expected to be increasingly nervous, flitting about the house to ensure it was spotless; as it was, you seemed to have been hyper prepared for the visit in the days leading up to it, to the extent that there was nothing left to fret over. The house was immaculate, dinner plans were finalised and, though you would admit to a few small anxieties over meeting Bloom’s parents, you felt far more at ease with the notion than you had ever thought possible. It was as though the prospect of learning more about Bloom and what she was like as a child outweighed the worries of meeting Vanessa and Michael that you had expected to eat away at you mercilessly. 

By Friday you found yourself pacing around the house, feeling as if you were going stir crazy with nothing to keep you busy. Whilst your plans for the weekend were all working like clockwork, Ben had visited at the start of the week to assess the progress of your shoulder and he had stated that another week of minimal use would be necessary to ensure your shoulder could heal properly. You had been hoping, perhaps foolishly, that you could beat the odds and finally be allowed the freedom to return to training. Ben’s comment crushed every hope that you had held, causing a swell in your frustrations, especially as you had been feeling as though your shoulder was fine. You could almost hear Farah’s whisper at the back of your mind “When you say you’re fine, I hardly ever believe you. ” You couldn’t help but let out a chuckle, Farah knew you all too well.

Farah had been nothing but supportive during these last weeks, taking care of you, and refusing to let you do any heavy lifting while injured. She always seemed to know what you needed, often before you knew yourself. It was a side of her you doubted many others knew and you felt privileged at being on the receiving end. Despite having enjoyed the pampering of your love, however, you had to admit that you were swiftly approaching your breaking point. 

Realising that you couldn’t stay indoors for a minute longer on Friday afternoon, you quickly scribbled a note for Farah should she return ahead of you before leaving out of the door to get some fresh air. Walking without purpose, you weren’t surprised to find yourself out on the specialist training grounds, your body seeming to gravitate to the area under a will of its own. Students were engaged in close combat training as you watched and a little way off you spotted Saul pacing between pairs, shouting occasional instructions at them as he passed. 

“What are you doing here?” Saul asked in surprise as he approached you, his gaze flicking between you and his students in an attempt to fill two roles at once.

“I’m going crazy, Saul.” you admitted sheepishly. “You have no idea what it’s like. I feel like I’ve been trapped in this state of endless monotony for years!”

“Ever the dramatist,” Saul chuckled, rolling his eyes at your blatant overstating of your frustrations. “I do know some of what you’re going through though. I was attacked by a burned one, remember?”

A flush rose in your cheeks. In fairness, you had been unconscious when that had happened. “Right.” Shifting your gaze to the students, hoping to break the tension of your slip up, you watched them with a critical eye, taking in each perfectly executed attack or missed opportunity to block and parry. 

Saul seemed to notice, nudging your arm in that way that he used to back in the days when you had spent a good deal of time on the training field together. “Getting the itch again?” he asked knowingly. You could only shrug, indicating your shoulder. “You could help me give them some feedback, if you’re not too busy?”

Not too busy. You almost wanted to hit him for the sheer audacity of such a comment!

Raising your eyebrows at him you shrugged, not wanting to appear too eager. “Sure, if you can’t manage on your own I suppose I could give you a hand.” You winked at him then, a grin spreading over your features.

The next hour kept you busy as you moved between pairs to give them guidance on their techniques in combat, correcting some on footwork or posture whilst praising others for their quick thinking and light movements. Though you would never admit it to Saul directly, his students were good; jokingly surprised as you were, you had to admit that he had trained them well. On top of the joy that you were beginning to feel at being out of your home and back in the familiar world of specialist training, you enjoyed being of use once more and the students seemed to appreciate your advice, particularly as you didn’t shout at them like Saul did. It seemed just like old times: you, the patient teacher taking a more educational approach, whilst Saul often played the more intimidating role. You made for an effective team - perhaps you could get used to filling the role of teacher again. For the first time since your injury you felt less restless, being able to use your expertise with words rather than actions helped somewhat. 

By the time that classes were finished it was late afternoon and you felt invigorated. Deciding to meet Farah at her office to walk her home, you headed across the field at a quick pace, your sights set on the building ahead. You approached her office door a few minutes later, giving it a light knock before entering. 

“Not now, I…” Farah started sharply before looking up from her paperwork, the frustration lining her features melting away as her eyes fell upon you.“Oh, sorry darling, I thought you were someone else.”

Though you raised an eyebrow, curious about who had wound her up to such an extent over the course of the day, you didn’t ask. Instead you perched on the side of her desk, smiling warmly at her as she slowly allowed her pen to rest against the table top, though her grip never loosened even a little. “I’ve come to take you home, love.” 

“What time is it?”

“A little after five.” Reaching out, you placed your hand on top of Farah’s, squeezing lightly as you watched her rub her eyes in an attempt to clear the strain of staring at her paperwork for too long. “You work too hard. Have you taken a break today?” 

“I’m more interested in what you’ve been doing with yourself. Have you been up to no good? You look different.” She regarded you evenly and you let out a laugh. So she hadn’t taken any breaks - Farah always changed the subject quickly when she knew that her answer to a question would get her in trouble.

“Don’t answer a question with a question.” You gave her an amused smile, though a hint of frustration was hidden within the curve of your lips.

Rolling her eyes, Farah returned your smile. It was clear that she knew that she was toeing the line between humour and heated words. Luckily for her, that look of innocence with a hint of charm always had you wrapped around Farah’s little finger. “Humour me. Then I’ll let you take me home.” 

You rolled your own eyes at her bargaining but nodded in agreement nonetheless. “I joined Saul to assist with a few of his classes.” A shadow of worry slipped through the hazel depths of Farah’s eyes and you quickly went on: “Before you panic I was only commenting on the students’ efforts. I didn’t participate - you can ask Saul if you don’t believe me.” 

For a moment Farah considered you, her eyes scanning over every inch of your form to ensure that you had not harmed yourself any further. When she was finally satisfied, she rose from her chair, leaning in to place a chaste kiss on your lips. “I believe you.” She murmured softly. “Alright, take me home. I think you’re right - I am about due a break.” 

-

When Saturday morning finally came around you awoke with a start, your to-do list for the day springing to mind the moment you opened your eyes. You sat up almost instantly, moving to get out of bed, but found your progress was impeded by the feeling of Farah’s hand gripping your wrist, pulling you back towards her. “It’s still early, my love,” she murmured sleepily. “Stay with me a little longer.” 

The soft tones of her voice tugged at your heart and, though you hesitated for a moment, you allowed yourself to roll back towards her in the bed, smiling as you felt warm arms enveloping you and pulling you tightly against her. “How can I ever refuse you?” you murmured. Tangling your legs with hers you closed the distance between you, kissing her softly as you basked in the comfort of being in her arms once more. Farah’s arm was around your waist, pulling you impossibly closer, and for a moment your mind settled on the thought of how right it felt to be here and how grateful you were for having moments such as this as a permanent fixture in your life once more. The world fell away and it was only the two of you. 

“It’ll be alright, you know.” Farah murmured against your lips after a moment had passed. It was as though she could feel the tension that had been absent for the last few days beginning to seep into your bones at the knowledge that today was the day. “We have it all under control.”

You knew she was right but you wanted, needed, this to be perfect. These were the people who had raised your baby - who knew her better than anyone in the world. They were your one link to the life that you had lost and the people you had to thank for filling the gap that should have been you in your daughter’s life. 

“You’ve spoken to her parents before, haven’t you?” You were unsure where the thought had come from - perhaps it was just the nerves that were beginning to resurface as you looked for comfort in any knowledge that Farah may be able to provide. 

“Yes, but only as Headmistress, not as her moth-” she cut herself short. It was the first time you’d sensed real uncertainty in her at the prospect of meeting Bloom’s parents and it dawned on you that, despite that tough exterior that Farah always put up, this must be affecting her just as it was you. Guilt settled in your stomach at having not thought as much sooner.

Carefully you caressed her cheek with the palm of your hand, placing a feather light kiss on the end of her nose before pressing your forehead to Farah’s own. She let out a shaky breath at the familiar act and smiled softly, turning to press a kiss to your palm. “It’ll be alright,” you repeated her own words back to her, “we’ll just follow Bloom’s lead and answer any question they might have.”  

Farah hummed, nodding her agreement. “You’re right. Chances are they’re just as nervous as we are. Bloom too.” You laughed at that, the thought of Bloom being nervous over a situation that she had instigated seeming comical in itself. 

After another thirty minutes in bed, remaining close and exchanging sweet kisses and soft words, you finally resigned yourself to the reality that you would have to move if you were to get the final bits of preparation done for the day.  Sitting up you announced that you were going to take a shower. Farah’s smirk and whispered request to join you only earning her a roll of your eyes - if she followed you into that bathroom there was no way that you would be ready in time for Bloom’s arrival. 

Entering the bathroom though, you stopped, leaning against the doorframe as the thought of Farah’s offer circled your mind. Perhaps, if you were quick, you could just about find the time. “Oh, come on then.” You grinned at Farah over your shoulder, briefly playing at being frustrated by her ability to make you cave so easily. Farah only laughed at your dramatics, swiftly tossing the covers off of herself as she followed you.  

-

Once evening came and the sun began to set outside your window, you found yourself standing gazing at your own reflection in the full length mirror in your room, reconsidering your outfit for the umpteenth time. This time you had chosen high waisted wide trousers, cream coloured, coupled with a light blue shirt. You sighed, exasperated with yourself - you had felt mostly in control of your emotions up until this point, but now, with the arrival of your daughter and her parents imminent, everything that you had been expecting to feel all seemed to bubble close to the surface, your nerves raw and persistent. You were just about to tear the clothes off once more in your frustration at nothing feeling right when Farah’s hand came to rest on your hip, her lips coming to press to your temple as she whispered in your ear: “Darling, you look perfect.” 

You breathed out a half laugh as you regarded her in the mirror, unconvinced by her words, though you appreciated them more than you could say. Farah certainly looked more than perfect: her hair done neatly in a braided updo, stray curls framing her face delicately. She had opted to wear a black pencil skirt that hugged her hips beautifully and had paired it with a dark red turtleneck that kept the look more appropriate for the situation than such a skirt would usually be. 

Leaning into Farah’s body behind you, you let out another sigh, your gaze taking in the reflection of the two of you together as her arms came to circle your waist, holding you tightly against her. “I don’t think the outfit is the problem. I’m just-”

“Nervous.” Farah finished your sentence, nodding her understanding. “I am too, love. Here.” She moved away from you gently, turning to find something in her jewellery box that sat on the dressing table nearby. As she turned back to you again you caught sight of a thin golden chain dangling from her fingertips. “This will suit you well.” Brushing your long auburn hair from your shoulder she leaned around you, fastening the necklace around your neck before pressing a gentle kiss just above where she had clasped it. You could feel the smile pulling at your lips as you regarded yourself in the mirror once more; it was the one addition that your outfit had needed, somehow making it complete.

“Beautiful.” Farah mused, placing another kiss on your cheek. “Now, let’s head downstairs.They’ll be here soon.”

The time passed quickly from that point, the focus of your mind on finishing the final details before their arrival. Farah set the table and lit candles whilst you finished off the salad that was to go with the casserole you’d made earlier in the day. You had just opened a bottle of wine when the doorbell rang. Though you didn’t want to admit it, you felt your stomach lurch uncomfortably at the sound. 

In moments Farah was at your side, her hand seeking out yours, and you glanced up at her, catching the way that she chewed at her lower lip anxiously. Though she’d had many years of practice when it came to hiding behind the facade of being Headmistress, you could see her nervousness peeking through from beneath it all. Her shoulders were tense and her jaw was set in a way that made you want to reach out and touch her cheek in the hope of calming her. Gripping her hand more tightly, you leant in to press a kiss to her cheek, whispering: “We’ll be alright.” 

Opening the door, you found yourself face to face with Bloom, all bright eyes and beaming smile. Seeing her appear so at ease calmed you somewhat and you whispered a soft greeting, trying to smile back as convincingly as you could. Behind Bloom you could just make out the figures of two people standing a little way back from the door, both with curious gazes fixed upon you. You stepped back, leaving space for them as you indicated for them all to enter. “Please, do come in. We can’t have you spending all evening out there in the cold.”

Bloom took a step closer, shifting her body slightly to reveal the people behind her. You could tell from the way that she smiled at them reassuringly that they must have been feeling just as nervous as you. “These are my parents.” 

An awkward moment passed as the family of three stepped past you into the hallway and, hoping to ease the tension, you reached out a hand to greet them. “Vanessa, Michael, lovely to meet you.” 

“Mike, please,” Bloom’s father said, stepping forward to shake your hand. You watched as a look of recognition flashed in Vanessa’s eyes as her gaze met yours and, with a start, you realised that perhaps she saw Bloom in you.

At your side you caught Bloom’s eyes flitting between the two of you, a nervous look spreading across her features. You smiled as you took Vanessa’s hand into both of your own, squeezing reassuringly as you shook it. Though you didn’t speak, you saw her lips quirk up slightly at the corners and the tension ease in her shoulders. “Thank you for having us.” she murmured. 

Just as you parted your lips to speak once more, you heard Farah’s footsteps approaching from where she had been making the final preparations in the dining room. “Hello Mr and Mrs Peters, it’s so lovely to finally meet you in person,” she began as she too shook each of their hands in turn. “I imagine this meeting is somewhat different than you would have expected a few weeks ago.” It amazed you how easily Farah could mask her nerves yet, to anyone but you, the smile that was turned on Bloom’s parents in that moment held such ease that it was impossible to imagine that she wasn’t fully in control of her emotions. 

As the five of you moved through to the dining room you felt as Farah’s hand came to rest at the small of your back, bringing you the comfort of her touch. Vanessa and Mike too seemed to rely on each other for emotional support; Vanessa stood clutching her husband’s arm rather firmly, though her expression was not unkind. “We did think we may meet at a parent-teacher conference,” she stated with a half smile, “but that was before…” It seemed that she was struggling with how to approach the subject of Bloom’s relationship to you both and you noticed how her eyes wandered to you once more, a consideration resting in the depths of them. “You have a beautiful home.” She commented finally as she tore her eyes from you, allowing them to travel over the rest of the room, smiling. You understood her need to change the topic - perhaps dealing with heavier matters should wait until you all knew one another a little better. 

“Thank you.” You smiled, feeling less nervous than you had a minute ago. Perhaps it was seeing that they too seemed anxious which eased some of your own worries. “Please, take a seat.” You gestured towards the dining table. “Dinner will be ready soon.”

Once seated, a pleasant conversation was struck up between Mike and Farah as Mike asked about Alfea and what it was like at the school. Watching closely, you took in how Farah spoke with such ease and confidence, feeling the tension leave your shoulders as she smiled and mused on the school that she so clearly adored. She spoke of Alfea’s specialism in the strongest and most capable students, likening it to the Ivy League schools that Mike might know from the First World. Farah ethused about the specialised subjects that the school taught, from magical theory to mixed combat, though she did have to assure Vanessa that the school was not intended only to build soldiers for armies as it had been under its previous headmistress. Bloom seemed eager to supplement Farah where she could, telling her parents all the things she’d learned since starting at the school, including but not limited to the control of her own magic. Her eyes glinted as she spoke and you found yourself staring at the girl, joy bubbling up inside you as she let out a laugh.

Dinner was soon on the table and the time seemed to pass easily as you all chatted pleasantly amongst yourselves. Mike had taken an interest in your specialist background after Farah had mentioned the other side to Alfea’s schooling, telling you that he himself had dabbled in Krav Maga when he was younger. As in any form of close combat training, you pointed out that there were many similarities to your training as a specialist. 

“I’d offer to show you a move or two, but I fear I’ve had an injury of late and have been forbidden from training.” You rolled your eyes dramatically, eliciting a giggle from Bloom. 

“D’you say that to everyone you’re scared you can’t take on?” Mike asked jokingly, chuckling at himself as he faked an expression of suspicion. 

“Oh god, Dad, you really don’t wanna fight her. She’s better than the specialists’ headmaster. Even injured, she could take you down with one hand if she wanted to.” Mike’s expression seemed to morph then, first to shock before he smiled at you, clearly impressed. You were so engrossed in your conversation that you only looked up at the feeling of a gentle squeeze on your uninjured shoulder.

Farah looked down at you, her thumb stroking the bare skin of your neck momentarily. “Shall I make some coffee?”

“Yes, please. I’ll clear the table.” You smiled warmly at her, and the two of you exchanged a long glance before excusing yourselves.

Bloom and Vanessa rose in unison, their gazes fixed on you with eager smiles. “We’ll help.”

You all laughed before you waved their offer away. “I appreciate the offer, but I think we'll manage. Bloom, why don’t you show your parents to the living room? We’ll be there shortly with coffee.”

Once you were alone in the kitchen together you and Farah easily fell into step, moving around one another seamlessly as you completed your tasks. Clearing the dishes into the dishwasher you rose to stand next to Farah, your hand travelling across her back. “Alright?” you whispered before leaning in to place a soft kiss to her temple.

Farah’s gaze seemed distant, fixed onto the steady drip of the coffee before slowly shifting to meet your eyes. She considered her words for a moment before she spoke, her own hands clasped before herself. “I think it’s going well, don’t you?” Her hand sought yours a moment later and you gave it a reassuring squeeze, humming in response. It really was going well and you realised that the nerves you’d felt at the start of the evening had all but disappeared. Kissing Farah’s cheek, you turned your attention to the remaining dishes.

With the coffee made and brought through from the kitchen, the five of you sat in the living room engaging in conversation and laughing at each other’s jokes and stories. Somehow Farah had managed to turn the conversation to Bloom’s childhood and, curious as you both were, had asked what Bloom had been like growing up. Vanessa fondly retold a number of stories, from a two year old Bloom obsessed with books and learning to her first day at school when she had been so afraid that her parents wouldn’t come back for her that she had clung to Mike’s leg like a vice when they had tried to drop her off. There was even a story about Bloom in her younger teen years when, reading alone on the school grounds, she had heard an injured bird and made it her mission to save it. That story had tugged at your heartstrings in a way that you hadn’t expected - you even thought you had caught Farah tearing up, a sight which you hadn’t seen much since you had reawoken a few weeks ago. As the stories were told, Vanessa had handed you both a memory book that she had kept throughout Bloom’s childhood and at one point she indicated a picture of a very small Bloom as she told of an event of Bloom’s first day at daycare where she was placed in the sandbox to play, only to sit there dumbfounded and staring miserably at her dirty hands. It caused a roar of laughter amongst you and, though you noticed Bloom roll her eyes, the girl couldn’t help the smile that tugged at her lips. With each story you felt as though you caught a glimpse of Bloom’s upbringing and you revelled in learning every little detail about her. Though the sense of loss over missing your daughter’s young life didn’t shift, the stories helped. 

Once the memory book had been put away and the coffee cups were cleared up the mood settled somewhat, the laughter morphing into a companionable quiet. It felt as though you had finally reached a point with your guests where you would be able, finally, to address matters that were perhaps a little more raw for all of you. You exchanged a glance with Farah who was sitting at your side on the sofa before shifting your gaze to Vanessa and Mike. “I don’t mean to dampen the mood but, with everything that’s happened, do you have any questions?” Your voice sounded steady and it surprised you given the rush of emotion that washed over you once you had uttered the words. You felt as though your heart was racing in your chest in anticipation of everything that the couple could ask. 

They seemed to hesitate for a moment, exchanging a glance of their own as they considered your question. Perched in an armchair to your right, Bloom bit the side of her lip nervously. It was Vanessa who spoke up first after another moment of hesitation, her voice softening to the tone that she had been using upon first entering your home earlier in the evening. “Bloom said that a woman named Rosamund-“

“Rosalind.” Bloom muttered beneath her breath, correcting her mother.

“Rosalind- placed Bloom with us at the hospital and that our own daughter had…” Vanessa seemed unable to finish the sentence, her watery gaze shifting between you and Farah. Your heart ached for them, at least your daughter was here, alive and thriving. How awful it must be for them to find that they lost a daughter and were never given the chance to mourn her. 

Before you could open your mouth to speak, Farah’s voice broke through the moment of quiet, her tone telling of the deep sympathy that she felt for the woman sitting across from her. “We are both so sorry for what you have gone through, truly. This whole mess of a situation, this exercise in cruelty, has harmed us all in unspeakable ways. I know the pain that you are feeling all too well.”

An uncomfortable ache settled in your chest as she uttered the words, entering a realm of conversation that you had yet to start with Farah. Though you wanted more than anything to support her in the things that she had been through in your absence, it was a matter that you had been afraid to ask about. The guilt ate away at you, knowing that you were failing in your role as a partner, but until now you simply hadn’t felt ready to hear about the isolation and heartbreak that had befallen your love. 

After a short pause, Farah continued, her expression masking most of her pain though you could sense it there, settled beneath the surface of her carefully constructed facade like a second skin. “As Bloom may have told you,” Farah’s gaze met yours for a moment as she uttered your name fondly, “was in a coma for the past sixteen years - magically induced by Rosalind to, amongst other reasons, keep us from finding out what she had done with Bloom. During that time I believed our daughter had died.”

The gaze of the pair watching you seemed to soften as Farah spoke, an air of understanding forming between you all as though sharing such pain brought some form of comfort and a bond that many would never understand.

Clearing his throat, Mike shook his head slightly, clearly somewhat angered by what he had just heard, though he covered it well for the most part. “It’s not for you to apologise for what happened to us.” He assured you both, sparing a glance towards his wife. “We’re sorry for what you have gone through; the pain that that woman has brought to you, it must all be very difficult.” Pausing momentarily in his speech, your gaze wandered to Vanessa who you found giving you a sympathetic look. “Do you know why she did it?” Mike asked after a moment. 

It was a fair question, though you struggled to know where to begin. Rosalind’s reasoning was muddy and warped at best. How could one explain the motivations of a sociopath like Rosalind to those from another world entirely? 

“Rosalind’s world view has always centred around two key elements,” you began a little hesitantly, “strength and power. Even when Farah and I were students of hers, her only goal was to have as much control as she could over the strongest fairies and specialists in the Other World. She must have done her research when we found that I was pregnant because somehow she knew that Bloom would hold a power greater than any that had been seen in the Other World for centuries.” 

At those words Mike and Vanessa both turned to Bloom in unison, expressions of shock painted on their features. Bloom seemed to be avoiding eye contact with everyone in the room, looking sheepish. Apparently she’d missed that bit out when she had been telling her parents everything that had been happening in her life. 

Sensing that someone needed to break the tension, Farah picked up where you had left off, her hand straying to rest on your knee as she spoke. “We believe that Rosalind gave Bloom to you thinking that the First World would be a place of safekeeping for her. She intended to retrieve Bloom for herself when she had grown old enough to be of use, only I found Bloom before Rosalind had been freed from stasis.”

“What happened to her? To Rosalind?” Mike asked, a hint of hesitance in his tone. You had a feeling he feared hearing that Rosalind was still out there somewhere, waiting to harm Bloom in some way. 

“She’s gone. She died in battle some weeks ago now.” Farah spoke the words with such finality that it left no room for further questions on the matter. You were relieved, not too keen to recount the events of that fateful day that had drawn the life of Rosalind Hale to a close.

“Good.” Mike said, his voice firm.

Vanessa sighed, her own voice understanding but tinged with concern. “Mike…” 

“What? She tore two families apart.” His words were harsh but you couldn’t help but agree. After all of the damage that she had done, Rosalind belonged in the ground where she could do no more harm. 

“She will no longer be able to harm us,” you assured. “The best place for her is in the past where she belongs.” The words that fell out of your mouth surprised you, but as you felt the tension in the room begin to ease you knew it had been the right thing to say.

Giving your knee a squeeze in support, Farah’s eyes lingered on you for just a moment before she turned her attention to your guests once more. “I don’t know what happened to your daughter’s body after the fact, Vanessa, but if you wish I can try and find out?” 

Flashing the woman a sympathetic smile, Farah’s gaze flitted over to Mike who had grown quiet as the conversation turned to his birth daughter.The offer had Vanessa’s eyes shooting up sharply, hope forming there in depths of blue. Even Mike had perked up at Farah’s words, his gaze intently fixed on his wife, though he appeared somewhat apprehensive to believe that this could be a chance for them after so many years. “Please, anything you can find out we would appreciate.” Vanessa returned a warm smile as though shaking some of the gloom from her shoulders. “I did bring a few more books of pictures, if you’d like to see?”

“That would be lovely!” you grinned, letting your gaze momentarily meet Bloom’s, the girl’s cheeks reddening slightly at the prospect of having more of her childhood antics layed out for all to see.

The very air in the room seemed to shift, the mood lightening once more in stark contrast to the recently passed reminiscences. Vanessa drew her seat closer to the sofa, placing another photo album on the coffee table, and began once more to regale you with tale after tale of your little girl’s life. Each one seemed to fill in the gaps that the missing time had left in your heart just a little more and you truly couldn’t put into words how grateful you were to both Bloom and her parents for giving you this opportunity. 

Bloom was more perfect than you could ever have imagined as a child. She seemed to have been happy, the pictures often depicting her playing with other children or dressing up, and seeing it made your heart swell. Yet, it was as though a physical pain seemed to settle in your chest at having missed watching her grow up. Looking over at Farah you could tell she felt it too. You reached out your hand, placing it on her knee and giving it a gentle squeeze before returning your attention to the photo album. Vanessa and Mike were more than generous in telling stories of Bloom growing up. Bloom too told stories with fondness, her eyes shining – it was wonderful to see her this way, so happy and carefree.

Silence fell once more as you reached a picture that was somewhat familiar to you - Bloom as a baby in the hospital, her big blue eyes blinking up at the camera as she had blinked up at you on the day that she was born. No one spoke for a moment and you sensed that Vanessa and Mike were realising that this picture was one of the few that you would likely not need explaining. It was then that Bloom seemed to realise something, beginning to speak even before her mind had quite caught up with her mouth. “Ms. D…” she let out a chuckle, still a little unsure of how to address either of you in this new state of things. Thinking it best not to make a big deal of it she tried again, her words addressed to you both this time: “When we first spoke about…” she gestured vaguely with her hands, “all of this, I remember one of you mentioning that you named me before I was taken from you.” her gaze moved to yours, curiosity sparkling in her eyes. “I know I have a name now but… who was I supposed to be?” 

Farah hesitated at the phrasing of the question. Though she knew what Bloom meant - that the life that had been intended for her had been taken when she was taken from you both - it still didn’t sit right that Bloom would think of herself as anyone but the person she was always intended to be. Carefully, Farah began: “Bloom, you are exactly who you are supposed to be,” she assured the girl. “But yes, we did give you a name that differs from the one that you have.” A small, albeit sad, smile pulled at her lips as the name crossed her mind. It felt a long time since she had thought of her daughter by that name, though in truth it had only been a month or so. “We named you Faye.”

“Faye…” Bloom tested the name on her lips, considering it for a moment. She smiled softly as she repeated it once more, nodding her head as though she had made a particularly important decision. “It’s nice.”

“So is Bloom,” you said, glancing at Mike and Vanessa with a soft smile.

- 

The evening continued for no more than an hour or so after that. Once the last pictures of Bloom had been viewed and Vanessa voiced that she was growing tired, your three guests opted to take their leave. Goodbyes were said, more familiar now than the greetings that had been passed at the beginning of the evening and, as you finally closed the door, you paused for a moment, your hand pressed against the painted wood as you sighed contentedly.

Despite your nerves at the beginning of the evening it felt as though you had needed an opportunity like this in a way that you hadn’t expected. It had been a comfort to meet Mike and Vanessa, to see for yourself that your daughter had been raised amongst love and to know that, though you hadn’t been able to be there for Bloom in years passed, there had been people looking out for her and watching her shine. Moreover, to see pictures of Bloom’s life and hear stories of the things that you had missed had gone some way to filling the gaping hole that was the last sixteen years for you. Sure, you hadn’t been able to live those things yourself, but Bloom had and that was more important to you than anything. 

Behind you, you heard the clang of pots coming from the kitchen as Farah finished clearing up the last bits from dinner. The sound brought you back to the present and you sighed softly as your mind was drawn to more troubling matters. 

Whilst a lot of positivity had come out of this evening, there was something else that it had brought up - a failing on your part that you felt needed to be rectified sooner rather than later. You realised now that, since you had awoken, Farah had spent a great deal of time caring for you and supporting you through your transition back into the waking world; despite her efforts, however, you were yet to really ask about what she had been through since you had been gone. You couldn’t help the shame that held onto you at the thought of it - what kind of a partner were you to have not even asked after the woman you claimed to love? 

Slowly, you pushed off from the door and made your way towards the kitchen. Farah was standing with her back to you when you entered, elbow deep in a bowl of soapy water as she washed up the last few items that couldn’t be put through the dishwasher. For a moment you watched her, her posture still immaculate as ever though the tension that usually resided in her shoulders seemed to have eased somewhat - apparently this evening had been a comfort for you both. 

Gliding across the room quietly you came up behind Farah, lifting onto your toes as you wrapped your arms around her from behind, allowing you to rest your chin on her shoulder and press a kiss just below her ear. “Hi,” you whispered as you nuzzled your nose into the crook of her neck. You could feel Farah’s smile as it spread across her face. 

“Hi yourself,” she chuckled, turning her own head slightly to press a kiss to your forehead. “Does this mean that we finally have our home back?” 

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes at her mock annoyance. Whilst neither of you particularly liked sharing your personal space with others, it had been a lovely evening and nothing to be grumbling about. “You can’t fool me with that frustrated tone, Dowling. You and I both know you enjoyed having them here.” 

“I enjoyed hearing about Bloom’s life. I could have done without the Rosalind talk though.” You could only humm your agreement at that. Rosalind’s end was still recent and raw, though you were glad that you could bring Bloom’s parents the closure that your own role in Rosalind’s end had brought you. 

For a moment silence fell between you and Farah. After the last item had been washed Farah shifted, forcing you to break your hold on her as she stepped over to retrieve the hand towel from where it was hung, drying her hands meticulously. You stood where she had left you, fiddling with your bracelet, your eyes downcast as you attempted to find the words to approach the subject you wished to discuss. 

“So um, earlier,” you began hesitantly, “when you spoke about believing our daughter to be dead whilst I was in my coma… I realised we haven’t really talked about that… about how everything has been for you.” 

As you spoke you could hear the way that your voice kept pausing and you hated it: you hated the guilt that was eating you up from the inside; you hated past you for not forcing yourself to ask about this sooner; most of all you hated that Farah hadn’t once appeared upset with you for not showing her the same care and consideration that she showed you every day. How could she be so okay with you failing to show her the love and compassion that she needed and deserved? It didn’t make sense. 

When you finally found the courage to look up once more Farah was watching you closely, a small frown on her face as she chewed at her lower lip. You couldn’t quite tell what she was feeling in that moment: hurt, anger, worry? It was frustrating how difficult she could be to read sometimes. 

“Look,” you started softly, “I know I’ve been focused on myself lately. I know I haven’t checked in with you like I should have.” Sighing, you clenched your fists at your sides. You could feel your anger at yourself bubbling up again, clawing at your insides as tears threatened at your eyes. 

Farah still didn’t speak, her frown only growing deeper as she studied you. You wished that she would do something - anything. 

In that moment the shame you felt seemed overwhelming and it was easier to lash out. “Be angry with me Farah! Scream and shout, take a swing at me if that’s what you need! I love you enough to take it all! I know I’ve failed you.” You were surprised at the sound of your own voice, loud and angry. 

Deafening silence followed and Farah took two long strides towards you, placing the tips of her fingers to your lips. “Enough.” Her voice was quiet, the patience in her eyes maddening. “Enough,” she repeated and a soft sigh escaped her lips. “I’m not angry with you sweetheart - not at all.” 

Your brow furrowed at that. “How can you not be angry with me?” you asked, your voice watery. 

For a moment Farah’s eyes flicked away from your own, her fingers slipping from your lips to your hair where she toyed with your curls absently. “I suppose I am out of the habit of expecting to be asked about my emotional state.” Though her words seemed unemotional you sensed a slight quiver in Farah’s voice. Your heart clenched uncomfortably as what she was saying began to sink in. 

“Oh darling,” you breathed, a tear escaping your eye as you lifted a hand to grip her wrist. 

Farah’s features tensed at your words and she shook her head. “Don’t do that,” she whispered as her fingers slipped to your cheek. “Please don’t pity me.” 

“I don’t, love, I…” You what? You thought. “I hate myself for not being here. I loathe that you were left here alone to deal with everything by yourself. But what you said just now scares me.” Farah frowned at that. “I know that there is no way that in the last sixteen years Saul and Ben haven’t asked after your emotional wellbeing. But I also know you, Farah Dowling. I’ve known you since we were teenagers, and the only way that you could believe that no one would ask after you is if you shut yourself down to such things.” 

As you finally paused to take a breath you noticed the change in Farah almost instantly. Her entire being had tightened and recoiled, like a frightened animal trying its best not to be seen. Her features were tense, her eyes turned from yours, and her hand had dropped from your cheek as she wrapped her arms around herself defensively. You swore you would break seeing her so small and vulnerable like that. 

“What happened?” You whispered after a moment. You wanted to reach out, but you had a feeling that that wasn’t what Farah needed just yet. 

It took Farah a moment to speak, her lips parting several times only to press shut again as she reconsidered what she wanted to say. When she finally did find the words, her voice was so small that you hardly recognised it. 

“When we had brought you back to the restricted wing and Ben was beginning his initial assessment of your condition, everything paused for a moment and the reality of what had happened hit me like an unstoppable force. I understood that Faye was gone. I was certain that we would never see her again and it felt as though my heart was ripped from my chest and torn asunder.” She paused for a moment, taking a steadying breath. “Everything that we had planned was gone. The life we’d wanted to build, wiped away as though it was nothing.” You could see tears forming in Farah’s eyes now, though she was clearly making a valiant effort to keep them contained. “I tried to convince myself that there was still hope, that Ben could bring you back to me and we could fix it all together; but then a week passed, and a month, and by the end of the first year I was barely sleeping or eating. I put on a show as headmistress, but when the day ended I fell right apart again.” 

You could feel yourself shaking now, Farah’s words settling over your heart like a block of lead. You wanted to scream or be sick. You wanted to bring Rosalind back and kill her again - more brutally this time; the death you had given her had been too kind knowing what you knew now. 

“There was a day…” Farah continued after a moment, though you could hear in her voice that whatever she was about to say, she wasn’t at all sure that she should. Still, she persisted. “There was a day at about the year mark when I was sitting alone in our garden. The sun was setting and for a moment I thought I heard your voice. I looked for you, convinced that Ben had finally found a way… but he hadn’t.” She paused. “I nearly… I considered…” Farah pursed her lips tightly, her eyes slipping shut. You had never seen her struggle to say anything as she was struggling to say this. It scared you to think what could be so bad that she would be having such difficulty. “I asked myself then if I believed that I could live in a world without you or Faye, and for just a moment I believed that I couldn’t.” 

“No.” The word was a whisper, but Farah heard it. Her eyes snapped open and landed upon you. It was only when her features softened and she reached out to run the backs of her fingers across your cheek that you realised you had been crying. 

“My despair was all-consuming, like a weight upon my heart that I would never escape - one I couldn’t imagine being able to live with. Everything seemed bleak and dark. I loved you, love you , more than life itself - what would life be without you?” Farah took a shuddering breath and it took everything in you not to reach out and pull her towards you like life itself depended on it. “That night I forced myself to your bedside. I told myself that I would give Ben one more day to find a way. The next day I did the same. The day after that… well, you get the picture. I couldn’t tell the boys - they never could have understood, not then. I shut myself off because I knew that if I didn’t then it would overwhelm me and I might just do something stupid.” 

Silence fell between you. Your mind was racing, trying to process everything that you had just been told. 

After another moment, you took a hesitant step towards Farah and then another. When you were finally close enough you reached out and took a gentle hold of her hands, pulling her towards the dining table. Farah moved willingly, like a woman in a trance. You started easing yourself down onto a chair, Farah mirroring your movements. Once seated, you faced her and watched her pained expression with her eyes still lowered from you, feeling panic staring to grip at your insides. Focusing on feeling your knees brushing hers, you forced your own despair to the side and let your hands take a hold of Farah’s wrists, your thumb stroking the delicate skin there as her pulse fluttered beneath your touch, a comfort given the truth that you had just been told. 

Farah’s eyes slipped closed momentarily, permitting your comfort before her gaze met yours finally. “My dearest love,” you began, your voice low and gentle as though afraid she might retreat behind those walls she had built around herself, “I’m so grateful that you’ve shared this with me. I cannot imagine what the past sixteen years have been like for you.” 

Once again Farah’s demeanour changed, her shoulders growing tense and her back straightening in her chair, her gaze tearing away from you. This time, however, you gripped her wrists tighter, forcing her to meet your gaze. “I’m here.” Your voice was almost pleading and for a moment you struggled to find words. “I know you’ve grown adept at closing yourself off and dismissing your own emotional turmoil. I can understand that you have done so in the past.” You squeezed her hands as though you wanted to emphasise what you were saying. “You don’t have to go through this alone any more, sweetheart. I’m here for you to lean on; you can pour everything you are feeling into me and I will always be here - you won’t scare me away. And please,” you drew a deep breath, “you don’t have to be ashamed. Everything you feel, no matter how big or small, is valid, always .” You reached out to her, placing the tip of your index finger beneath her chin. “Your feelings are valid.”

Farah gave a slow nod as you lowered your hand. “I meant what I said before, you know? I love you enough to take anything from you.” You gave her a wide smile, suddenly yearning for hers. “Even if you want to take a swing at me.”

A small chuckle escaped Farah’s lips and the sound was music to your ears, a soothing balm to your heart.  

Chapter Text

“Mama.” Auburn curls framed the little girl's face as her arms reached out for you.

Warmth bloomed in your chest as you lifted Faye into your arms, kissing the side of her head as you cooed softly: “hello sweetheart.” Supporting her with one arm you walked across the living room floor and sat down on the sofa, pulling your daughter to you as you sunk further into the soft cushions. Faye’s little legs were on either side of your waist, her head resting against your chest. As you drew lazy patterns on her back with your fingers you thought nothing in this world could compare to this - the comfort of your daughter in your arms. 

Some time passed with the two of you curled together like that and after a while soft snuffling sounds began to emanate from Faye. For a moment you believed she had drifted off to sleep but, upon looking down at her, you saw her big blue eyes blinking up at you. 

“Giving all of the cuddles to mama today, huh?” You smiled at her and resumed stroking her back, burying your nose at the crown of her head and inhaling the scent of her. Faye let out a little noise as though content with the notion of staying there forever and you couldn’t help the smile that pulled at your lips. 

The sofa dipped beside you suddenly and you looked over to see Farah sitting down next to you. “Hello, little love,” she whispered before placing a kiss on top of Faye’s head, stroking her hair as she pulled away.

Farah fixed you with an adoring look as she turned away from the little girl in your arms. “Darling,” she breathed, smiling before placing a gentle kiss on your lips. You hummed in response, brushing your nose against hers as she drew away. Watching Farah for several long moments, you took in the way that her fingers drew through the curls at the base of Faye’s neck, her own gaze meeting yours with sparkling eyes - this was true happiness, you were certain of it.

-

You awoke with a start, but found that you were smiling, the image from your dream still embedded firmly in your mind as a sense of calm engulfed you - what a wonderful dream it had been. 

The bedroom was dark, the lack of light between the curtains telling you that there were many hours still to pass before dawn would raise its head. The space around you was quiet and still, only the gentle ticking of the clock on the bedside table beside you breaking through the sound of Farah’s even breathing. You shifted slightly, rolling in the direction of your love, wanting to feel her close as she had been in your dream. At the movement Farah stirred next to you and, upon seeing you curling into her side, a worried look flashed across her face as she reached over to place a comforting hand on your chest. “A nightmare?” she asked hesitantly.

Grasping her hand that lay on your chest, you smiled and shook your head. “No, quite the opposite actually. It was a pleasant dream this time.” 

Farah’s eyebrows shot up, mischief dancing in her eyes. You could tell from the curl of her lips that her mind had wandered some distance from the truth of your dream. “Is that so? Care to elaborate?” The words slipped from her lips as she leaned down, placing a slow, hot kiss on your lips, her tongue slipping into your mouth easily. 

Breaking the kiss, you found yourself breathless and you let out a chuckle, rolling your eyes. How she could be so easily aroused so soon after waking would always be a mystery to you. “Not that kind of pleasant,” you chastised, though you knew that your laughter was clear in your voice. You would have loved to continue with Farah’s line of thought more than anything under other circumstances, but you felt it important at that moment to share this particular dream with Farah. “It was one with Faye… Bloom… us as a family.” At your words the atmosphere in the room changed, the heat of before growing soft like the look in Farah’s eyes as she fixed them on you. “Why don’t you see for yourself?” 

Lifting Farah’s hand from your chest, you guided it to your face, her thumb stroking the soft skin of your cheek. Her eyes searched yours, ensuring that she had your full consent - ever hesitant to enter the mind of another until she was fully certain that that was what they wanted. A moment later Farah’s eyes lit to that magnetic pale blue and you closed your eyes in anticipation of her magic entering your mind. It was like a soft caress, her magic’s touch familiar and safe. 

Moments later Farah drew her hand away and propped herself up on her elbow as she gazed at you in the dark, a tear running down her cheek. You could feel your heart skip at the sight and you reached up to brush it away with your thumb, your hand lingering on her cheek for just a moment longer than was necessary. Turning towards the palm of your hand, Farah placed a kiss there before you drew it away. 

“Thank you for letting me see that.” Farah spoke in soft tones, an odd mixture of sadness and joy sparkling in her eyes that you could see even in the darkness of the room. 

You smiled up at her, still feeling the remnants of the dream warming your heart. “What could have been…” you whispered.

Farah laid down once more, drawing you into her arms and you settled against her chest, feeling the steady beat of her heart against your skin. “Perhaps we should try and create some new memories with Bloom in the time to come,” she suggested.

You hummed in agreement, the sense of loss at having missed Bloom’s growth dulled slightly at the prospect of making new and happy memories together - as a family.

-

The week following your meeting with Bloom’s parents was strange. Whilst nothing had changed in your daily life, something felt altered with Farah. You couldn’t quite place what it was and the lack of clarity in the matter quickly grew frustrating. 

On a few occasions throughout the beginning of the week you had caught Farah staring off as though in a daze, fiddling with something in her hands or lacing her fingers together as she lost herself in her mind. It was beginning to worry you. What’s more, your concerns were not eased much by Farah’s response each time you would find her in such a state: her features automatically sharpening at your touch or the sound of your voice; her lips pulling into a reassuring smile; the way that she would sigh your name before slipping into conversation as though nothing had happened. No matter how you tried to reason that she was just emotionally drained from busy weeks at work followed by the nerves that the weekend had sparked in her, you knew that it was something more. She was holding something back from you and the knowledge had anxiety writhing in your gut. By Wednesday morning you had finally convinced yourself that you could bite your tongue no longer, after all, you had been clear when discussing the mental turmoil that Farah had been bottling up for the last sixteen years that you didn’t want her to do that with you. Of course, to action such a thing was probably easier said than done, but still it hurt to see her going through something that she didn’t seem inclined to share with you. 

It was early evening and Farah had only been home for ten minutes or so before she had disappeared off, mumbling something about finishing some work that needed to be completed by morning whilst heading towards her study. You frowned as you watched her go. It wasn’t unheard of for Farah to complete work at home in the evenings, but it was unusual for her to insist on doing so before you had cooked and eaten dinner together. Unease seemed to settle within you and, sensing that this was connected to Farah’s recent state of distraction, you traced her steps until you found yourself at her study door. 

The door was left slightly ajar, though it didn’t seem to have been a conscious decision on Farah’s part to do so. Through the gap you could just make out her figure silhouetted against the early evening light that was just hanging at the point of sunset as it broke through the window behind her. She didn’t move - didn’t even budge. Her eyes were fixed on the bookshelf across the room from her and, at a glance, you could easily have assumed that she was simply looking for a book amongst her vast collection. As you stepped into the room though, you could tell that she had slipped into one of her dazes. 

“Farah?” As you neared her side, you reached out towards her, your hand coming to rest at Farah’s elbow as hazel eyes turned slowly to find your face, blinking at you absently once, twice, until you watched the glassy, dazed look slip from her eyes, her focus sharpening as she seemed to realise where she was once more. 

“Oh, darling, I’m sorry I…” 

“What’s going on, love?” Your voice was pleading, the mounting concern that you had been feeling clear in the frown that you wore. 

Farah paused for a moment, guilt briefly flashing across her expression until she dropped her gaze to the ground. You could see in her features a battle taking place within her: frustration, longing, concern - the mix of emotions emanating from her was almost dizzying. Eventually her eyes lifted to your own once more and she took a deep breath, seemingly attempting to steady herself. 

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, her fingers beginning to fidget before herself. “I’m aware that I’ve had moments of distance these past few days… not exactly how I had wanted to show you that I am trying to open myself up more.” Though she tried to laugh, wanting to find some light in this new struggle that she was facing, the musical element of the sound seemed lost somehow. 

You sighed softly, reaching out to still her hands in their fidgeting. “I never said that you had to share every feeling with me darling. If you’re pressuring yourself because of what I said the other night…” 

“No. I’m not, it’s just… you were right about me shutting myself off. I really must relearn how to be open about my feelings, only a feeling has emerged since the other night that I worry you may blame yourself for… I couldn’t bear that.” You felt as Farah’s fingers twined themselves with your own and she squeezed your hand gently, forcing her gaze to meet yours.

For a moment you considered the question that you wanted to ask. “Why might I blame myself?” In truth you weren’t sure that you wanted that question to be answered. You could feel a slight panic clutching at you, worrying that perhaps you had said or done something wrong. 

Farah only sighed, parting her lips to speak but hesitating for a moment. “The dream that you showed me… the one of Faye…” She paused, her eyes slipping shut at the mention of the child’s name. Pain lined Farah’s features and the sight of it had your breath catching in your throat. 

“Oh…” Understanding dawned and it felt as though you had been plunged into ice-cold water, every nerve in your body freezing up at the realisation. You had thought that Farah would want to see the dream - that it would bring her the same comfort that it had brought you to see the three of you so content together. It had never even occurred to you that perhaps Farah wasn’t ready for that just yet. “Darling, I’m so sorry, I didn’t think…” 

“Stop,” Farah cut you off, her eyes opening once more as she squeezed your fingers. “It isn’t your fault, love. You couldn’t have known.” For a moment she just breathed, her brow creasing slightly as she seemed to consider what she wanted to share. You could see that she was trying, that she wanted to share this vulnerability with you, but there was apprehension in her eyes that made your heart ache. “This is all just so very different for me. For you, I know that it must feel like all of that - you and I and our tiny little girl - was a reality only days ago. For me… I suppose I made my peace with the loss of that part of my life a long time ago now. I truly believed for the longest time that I would live out the rest of my days alone and I’m grateful to have you back, to have Bloom, but…” 

“But it’s overwhelming?” you asked hesitantly. A tight smile pulled at Farah’s lips, the light never reaching her eyes, and she nodded her head in confirmation. “Okay,” you murmured, taking both of her hands in yours now. Your features were set in determination, your mind focused in a way that usually only happened when you were readying yourself for a fight. “What can I do to ease that for you?” 

Silence. Farah’s eyes met yours and you could see shock painted across her expression, as though she hadn’t been expecting that response. She seemed to consider for a moment, her thumbs beginning to gently pet the skin of your hands as she did so. Eventually she took a breath, clearly having found her answer: “be patient with me?” Her eyes pleaded to be understood and you nodded in earnest, needing her to know that you were hearing what she was asking of you. “I need you to know, my love, that when I grow distant as I have been, it isn’t because I don’t want to be present with you. I’m just processing the reality of everything that’s changed as of late. I’m reminding myself that this is all real, that I have you back, that our daughter isn’t dead and that, somehow, I’ve been given a second chance.” 

A small smile spread across your face at that last part, catching the breathless hope that had slipped into Farah’s voice. Yes, she was disappearing into herself at times, but at least now it was a reflection of her efforts to find the more open Farah once more. Truly, that was all that you could ask of her. 

“What if I need you back?” You asked softly after a moment, a slight frown creasing your brow. “What if you’ve disappeared into that beautiful mind of yours and I need to bring you back to the waking world.” 

Farah blushed at your words, a soft breath of laughter expelling itself from her. “Hold my hand. Touch me. Draw me back into the present as you’ve drawn me in for all of the years that I’ve loved you,” she murmured. 

Nodding your understanding you stepped closer, your hands slipping up her arms as you pressed up onto your toes and pulled her to you in a comforting embrace. “I can do that,” you whispered, pressing a kiss into the crook of her neck as Farah’s arms came up to wrap around you tightly. 

-

After that evening things began to settle a little more. Though Farah still had moments where she slipped into her own thoughts, you no longer had to worry about the cause, understanding that she needed the time to process the changes to her world that seemed to have been thrown at her over the past few weeks.  Just as you had discussed, each time you would catch her slipping away for a little too long, you would simply place a hand on her cheek or squeeze her fingers - just a small indication that you saw that she was trying and that you were so very proud of her for doing so. The way that she would smile at you shyly in those moments always sent your heart fluttering. 

As the week drew to a close and you had begun to feel that things were settling into a new normal for you, you found yourself in bed one evening with Farah’s head resting in your lap as you read to her aloud. With each word that passed your lips your fingers ran absently through her curls, marvelling at how soft they felt beneath your fingers and considering how pleasant it would be to stay in this moment forever. The room was still and Farah had been quiet for some time - so quiet, in fact, that you almost thought that she had fallen asleep until she spoke. 

“I was thinking today,” she murmured softly, “that perhaps it would be good to have you back at Alfea more permanently. I know that you’ve been helping Saul with his classes on occasion and the students do seem very fond of you.”

For a moment you paused, your eyes still on the book that you had just been reading when Farah had interrupted you. Chuckling to yourself, you leant over to your bedside table, retrieving the bookmark that you had dropped there earlier and sliding it into place before setting the book aside. “I take it that reading time is over then?” 

“Sorry,” Farah chuckled in response, “my mind wandered.” 

“So it would seem,” you hummed, your fingers returning to their previous task. 

“So?” 

“Oh… teaching. Right.” You considered for a moment, your eyes dropping closed as you lay your head back against the headboard. You weren’t entirely opposed to the idea, though, if memory served, it seemed a lot to be taking on so soon after everything that you’d been through. “It’s a demanding job, love. I’m not quite in the shape I used to be in; are you sure I wouldn’t be more of a hindrance than a help?” 

Though she didn’t answer with words to begin with, you could feel Farah’s eyes on you as she pulled herself from your lap. She was giving you that frustrated look that she often did when you were too self-critical. You didn’t need to be looking at her to know that she disapproved of your self-pity. 

“I would have taken complaints about marking and workload, but really darling? We both know a little shoulder injury and a sixteen year nap isn’t enough to knock you out of the game.” 

She was right of course, though you didn’t want to give her the satisfaction of admitting as much. Slowly you cracked an eye open, taking in her raised eyebrows with a smirk pulling at your lips; she was so cute when she went all headmistress on you. Feeling mischievous you threw a hand over your eyes dramatically, moaning and groaning as though you were a bad actress playing a frail girl who had been sent away to the seaside to take the air. “I simply haven’t the energy for it, my love. To face such strain would be the end of me.” 

You could practically feel the eyeroll that Farah was giving you as she leant over and tickled your sides. The feeling took you by surprise and you shrieked in protest, trying to bat her hands away as you writhed and kicked in discomfort. “Farah, stop!” you squealed. 

She laughed in response but complied, sighing softly as she settled herself on her elbow at your side. A moment passed as Farah allowed you to catch your breath. As your laughter subsided and you rolled closer to her once more she kissed you softly, chuckling at that mischievous grin of yours which was still painted on your face. 

“I’ll tell you what,” she murmured as she pulled back, “I promise to break you in slowly if you’ll agree to come back and teach again.” 

You kissed her once more, letting out an exaggerated sigh in mock resignation. “Oh alright,” you grinned, “but only because I hear the headmistress is really hot. D’you think I could convince her to go on a date with me?” 

Farah only rolled her eyes once more, kissing you again to shut you up. 

- 

When Farah had stated that she would slowly re-introduce you to teaching, it had been a lie. You had initially taken up your previous post with the Specialists as a mentor rather than a teacher, but within a week you found yourself side by side with Saul teaching his classes. More often than not you stood facing one of his students, managing to swerve just in time to avoid being struck by a fist. You felt as though you had to work a hundred times faster now than before your extended period of absence. Sixteen years really did seem to make a difference to your body. 

Yet again you had been convinced by your friend to enter into a sparring session with one of his more advanced students. The young man had certainly learned well and had given you a run for your money. Moments later you stood panting, looking over at Saul who stood sniggering from his spot just a few paces away. You gritted your teeth, a string of choice words forming in your mind in your frustration at him. To your relief, Farah stepped up next to him, inspecting the lesson. 

Seeing your opportunity for a break you moved to stand next to her, crossing your arms. “Was he always this infuriating?” you fumed, speaking as though Saul wasn’t standing just a couple of metres away.

Saul’s shoulders seemed to shake with silent laughter and you had to suppress the urge to throw your water bottle at him as you drank deeply from it. 

Farah chuckled at the murderous look in your eyes, her hand resting discretely against your lower back. “Yes, darling, he was always this infuriating. You must’ve forgotten how bad it was.” Her eyes shone with mirth as you glanced over at her, a look you didn’t quite like crossing her expression. It was the same look that she used to get when she had less than angelic plans in mind for you and you felt your jaw tighten instinctually. What was she about to get you into this time? “There’s only one way to settle this.” She took a few steps ahead as you sighed.

Oh no.

Clapping her hands together to gain the attention of all the specialists in training, Farah called out to them: “Gather around, quickly now.” A moment passed and the specialists present swarmed to form a circle, a dozen faces watching with rapt attention. “You are all doing well with your training,” she began, starting to pace before them. “Sometimes, however, I believe you may benefit from a demonstration to place things into perspective.” She halted briefly, letting her gaze travel over the students. “I want you to assess how your teachers,” she gestured towards you and Saul, ushering you to the training ground, “meet in close combat. Consider both positives and negatives.”

Farah stepped aside and you shot her a displeased look as you passed her. The wink that you received in response only riled you further - damn her and that infuriating charm of hers. Despite your frustration with Farah, however, you were still pleased to see the look of worry flitting across Saul’s face- at least his grin had vanished. 

Stepping to the centre of the circle of specialists you stretched your back, feeling your spine crack as you did. Facing Saul, you relaxed your shoulders, getting into that familiar zone as you always did when preparing for combat, whether real or in training. 

Seemingly without feeling the need to prepare himself, Saul’s arm swung towards your face and your arm shot up, your wrist slamming into his, halting his movement. Taking advantage of the position, you swung your arm low, hitting him in the side whilst he would be unable to block the attack. Saul took a step back, wincing slightly at the sharpness of the hit. He studied you, seemingly considering his next move.

You didn’t wait for Saul to take the lead, slamming your weight into him and toppling him to the ground. Somehow your friend seemed unfazed. In one swift movement he switched your positions and you now found yourself trapped beneath him. A triumphant smile tugged at Saul’s lips but you weren’t finished by any means. Twisting to allow yourself more freedom of movement you punched his side a few times in quick succession, utilising his lapse of attention to flip him onto his back. Spinning where you lay, you wrapped your legs around his neck, squeezing until he pounded his fist onto the ground in defeat. 

A few moments later you both stood completely silently as each student in turn explained their observations to Farah. You were only half-listening, looking over at Saul as he stood rubbing his neck. Though you tried to maintain a modest facade you could feel the triumphant grin pulling at your lips - that would teach him to tease you. 

Eventually, Farah dismissed the class and you were relieved that the day was finally over. You turned to pick up your sweater which lay discarded on the ground and as you straightened up you heard Saul muttering something under his breath. 

“What was that?” You asked, eyeing him suspiciously.

“Nothing.” He said, folding his arms. 

“You just can’t handle the fact that I’m better than you, can you?” You grinned.

Saul rolled his eyes but laughter escaped his lips. “It’s not that you’re better, you’re just lucky.”

“Lucky?” You stared at him incredulously, eyes flitting to Farah.

Farah laughed. “You’re equally brilliant.” 

You gaped at her then, mock shock and hurt playing along your expression. “I…” there were no words, yet in that moment you felt joy wash over you - the familiarity of this banter you had missed oh so much. You knew Saul appreciated your talent and considered you his equal on the battlefield. You trusted him with your life. The joking and laughter was the glue that held you together, the reason you could proudly call yourself a part of this wonderful quartet. You wouldn’t trade it for the world.

- 

Farah was still chuckling to herself as she made her way back to her office a short while later. She had missed your friendly rivalry with Saul and now, with you having resumed your role at Alfea, she was looking forward to many more opportunities to rile the pair of you into entertaining her in quiet moments during her work day. It did cross her mind that that was perhaps a small abuse of her role, but given that Saul was such a dear friend and you were, well, much more than that, she figured that her professional role was the least problematic part of the situation. 

“Hey,” A familiar voice broke through her musings and, as Farah looked up upon entering the room leading through to her office, she caught sight of Bloom perched upon Aisha’s desk, setting aside a stapler that she seemed to have been fiddling with. “Sorry, I would have just let Aisha know that I’d come looking for you, but she had to go and take some paperwork somewhere?” 

“Yes, I remember the tasks I set for my assistant, thank you Bloom,” Farah quipped, noting how Bloom blushed at the implication in her words. 

“Sorry, I…” 

“It’s alright, I was only teasing.” Though Farah smiled there was a hesitant tone in her voice. Were they at a stage where she could tease Bloom so offhandedly yet? Perhaps she was getting a little ahead of herself. 

Despite Farah’s worries, almost instantly the tension that had slipped into Bloom’s smile eased and the girl laughed slightly, shaking her head at herself. “Right.” 

Nodding, Farah allowed her gaze to skim across her daughter in search of any sign of why she had come, taking in the way that Bloom glanced at the office door. “Was there something you wanted to talk about?” The question sounded too formal to Farah somehow, like something that she would ask any other student. Internally she couldn’t help but scold herself - it was proving trickier than she had imagined to transition from being Bloom’s headmistress to her mother, trickier still to meld the two roles into one during the school day. 

“I uh… yeah, there actually was. Could we..?” 

Gesturing to the door, Farah nodded and the two of them slipped past it and into the familiar room where they had first discussed the truth of their relationship. The memory had Farah smiling as she removed her coat, laying it over the side of the sofa before turning to Bloom. The girl was standing just within the doorway, seemingly unsure of where to place herself. Sensing as much Farah asked: “Is this a school based discussion or..?” 

“Kind of school, kind of personal.” Considering Bloom’s response, Farah rounded the sofa to seat herself by where she had laid her coat. It seemed a more comfortable solution than the desk - after all, this was a discussion with her daughter, not some student or parent imposing upon her time. 

“So, I noticed the specialists have a new teacher,” Bloom started. Though it was clear that she was attempting to sound nonchalant, Farah could already tell that there was more to this conversation than she was letting on. 

Raising an eyebrow, an amused smile pulled at her lips. “Ah, yes. Your m…” Not for the first time Farah had to catch herself before the word slipped out, a light blush colouring her cheeks - she had to stop doing that. Trying not to pause too long, she replaced her slip up with your name before continuing: “Before you were born she worked here as a teacher too, you know. We felt that it was about time she retook her role.” 

As Farah caught Bloom’s eye she could tell that the girl had only half heard her, her attention seemingly caught on something else. "That,” Bloom started cryptically, her voice suddenly filled with more certainty than Farah had heard from her since she had found her in the outer-office. “That’s what I wanted to talk to you about. You keep nearly saying ‘my mom’ before stopping yourself, and I don’t know if that’s for my sake or…” The words flowing from her mouth seemed to halt themselves just as she was about to say just what she was thinking. As it was, Farah didn’t need to hear the words to know what Bloom had been about to confess. 

“Oh Bloom,” she sighed, a look of understanding glinting in her eyes though a touch of hurt edged her voice, “you can’t think I’m not saying it because I don’t want to acknowledge our relationship.” 

“Can’t I?” Bloom asked, the hurt in her own voice palpable. “I mean, you tell me that I’m your daughter, you both protected me from Rosalind, you’ve invited me to your home and talked through my questions with me but… but I still don’t know if I’m supposed to see you as my parents or not.” 

Silence fell between them and Farah noticed how Bloom’s hands had balled into fists at her sides, channelling her frustrations into something physical as you always had. Farah sighed softly, her own fingers raising to pinch the bridge of her nose where a sharp pain was beginning to form. Just the thought of Bloom believing that Farah didn’t want to associate herself with her was enough to make bile rise in her stomach. You had been right, she needed to open herself up more if she wanted to stop feeling so alone. Patting the seat beside her, Farah’s eyes pleaded for Bloom to join her, a small smile of encouragement pulling at her lips as the girl moved to sit at her side at the invitation. 

“I’m sorry Bloom,” she started hesitantly. “I fear that I may be the cause of you thinking such a thing.” Carefully Farah reached for her daughter’s hand where it lay on the sofa between them, almost surprised when Bloom readily allowed her to take the hand into both of her own. “Sweetheart, this whole situation has been difficult for all of us, I know, but what you must understand is that I have believed for a long time now that I had lost you and your mother, most likely for good. To find now that I have another chance with you both is proving to be a rather large adjustment, and if I am to be honest with both you and myself, I’m struggling with it somewhat.” 

As she spoke, Farah felt as Bloom’s grip on her fingers tightened and slowly the girl lifted her other hand to hold Farah’s in both of her own. A smile pulled at Farah’s lips at the feeling, the gesture so soft and familiar that it felt as though her heart would melt with the warmth of it. 

“I’m trying Bloom. I’m trying to open up more, really. Please don’t think that it’s a lack of love for you that’s holding me back - I can promise you that that couldn’t be further from the truth.” Bloom nodded in response, smiling in a way that seemed almost bashful. Lifting her fingers to graze along Bloom’s cheek, Farah continued: “so, your question was whether or not you should see us as your parents?” 

“Yeah, kind of. I mean, I know I have parents but you guys wanted me, right? And I know ever since I found out that I was a changeling that I wanted to know my real parents. Just… I guess things got weird, because you’re the headmistress and now that you’re both working here, I mean, where do I even start with what to call you and how to act?” Bloom’s words spilled from her like a torrent of water and when she finally stopped for air Farah couldn’t help but laugh at the speed with which the girl’s mind worked. 

Nodding in agreement she murmured, “yes, that is quite the conundrum.” Pausing, Farah sighed. She knew what she wanted to ask but was unsure if the question would help to answer Bloom’s own. “What would you like to call us?”  

Bloom’s lips parted as though preparing to speak almost immediately, but then she stopped. Her brows furrowed in confusion as she considered the question. “I guess, I kind of already see you as my moms…” It sounded like a question rather than a statement, but as Farah looked at Bloom she understood her hesitance to sound more certain. Bloom was trying not to put too much pressure on Farah in her own way and Farah was grateful for the girl’s efforts to help her in her own adjusting. 

“Well, then you have your answer, don’t you? I can only speak for myself, but for my part I would place your comfort in this above my own no matter what. I will happily answer to whatever feels right for you Bloom.” 

It was as though a weight was lifted from Bloom’s shoulders upon hearing the words said and, before Farah knew what was happening, the girl had slid closer, throwing her arms around her neck and hugging her fiercely. 

For a split second Farah stiffened, unsure for only a moment before embracing her daughter tightly. Bloom’s chin rested on Farah’s shoulder and it felt so completely right to hold the girl in her arms, as though she had always been meant to fit in Farah’s protective embrace. A sense of calm settled over her, at ease now with having reached an understanding and sharing a special moment with Bloom. Some of the weight that had hung so heavily on Farah’s shoulders seemed to lift somewhat and she felt momentarily surprised that she had opened up to Bloom in the way that she had. A smile tugged at her lips and, as Bloom pulled away, she fixed her with an amused look. 

As Bloom stood there, her arms crossed and that look flashing across her features, Farah could only stare and let out a laugh.

“What?” Bloom asked, her own voice filled with mirth.

Farah chuckled. “You look so much like-” she paused abruptly before drawing a breath, “your mother.” 

Bloom’s eyes sparked and Farah felt her heart swell. “Really?” 

Nodding, Farah smiled warmly at her. “She gives me that look sometimes when she’s mildly amused at my jokes.” She chuckled at the thought and found herself suddenly yearning for your presence.  

“Do you, erm,” Bloom hesitated for a moment, her eyes suddenly fixed on the floor, “do you see yourself in me sometimes?” 

Farah’s heart ached at the look in Bloom’s eyes, as though the girl had been uncertain whether she should’ve asked. A few moments passed as Farah considered her response. “You are quite persistent,” she raised her eyebrow towards Bloom at that, “and you don’t give up easily. I like to think you’ve gained that trait from me.” Her voice filled with pride at that and she reached out and placed her index finger beneath Bloom’s chin. “You’re my daughter though Bloom, and I don’t need to recognise myself in you to know that.” She said in a reassuring voice and felt relieved at the smile that tugged at Bloom’s lips.

“I know,” Bloom grinned, “mum.” Though the word escaped her lips in a mock-British accent with a hint of amusement, an unexpected wave of affection washed over Farah, and she couldn’t help but smile in return. 

Chapter Text

The grounds of Alfea were quiet as you stood by the entrance to the fairy hall, watching as the sun began to sink behind the line of trees skirting the school grounds. It was the end of the day, only a month or so still remaining until the end of the school year and, once again, Farah seemed to have been caught up by one thing or another on her way to meet you. You didn’t mind; with the end of the year approaching you understood that her time was precious at present: curriculums to check; staff interviews to replace colleagues who were leaving; ensuring that plans were in place for the new students who would be joining the school in the autumn term. Really, it was a shock that you were getting to see her at all as of late. 

Leaning back against the pale stone wall behind you, you sighed deeply, basking in the warmth of the early evening as you waited. The air around you smelled rich and sweet, the scents of the myriad of flowers lining the walls of the school mingling in a way that was just the right side of overwhelming. In the distance, you caught sight of a couple of the specialist students exiting the specialist hall hand in hand and heading towards the forest, no doubt taking advantage of the pleasant evening for a romantic walk that could possibly lead to more interesting activities. The thought had you chuckling, thinking back on your own school days and how such ideas had often crossed your mind whilst you were silently pining after Farah, still convincing yourself that she would never look at you twice - not in any meaningful way anyway. 

“Amused by something, darling?” As though summoned by your thoughts of her, Farah seemed to materialise behind you, her hand coming to rest at your hip as she pressed a gentle kiss to your temple. 

“Just reminiscing,” you murmured in response, glancing at her over your shoulder and smiling as she leant down, this time capturing your lips in a chaste kiss. “How was your day?” 

“Long and tiring - I still have reams of paperwork sitting on my desk just waiting to be completed. Had I not known that you were waiting for me I would have stayed a little later.” The sigh that escaped Farah’s lips spoke of the depth of her exhaustion and as you met her eyes you couldn’t help but register the slight redness that had settled around them, as though she had been staring at her work for too long without allowing her eyes time to rest. 

“Well, then I’m glad that I did wait for you. I shan’t stand by and watch you work yourself into the ground.” 

Farah let out a soft chuckle at your words and, slipping her hand into your own, she stepped away from the school, glancing at you over her shoulder as she pulled you with her in the direction of home. “How I coped without you, I shall never know,” she teased, winking in your direction. It was a comfort that she was still joking; so long as she had the energy for that you knew that everything was okay

“Joke all you want Dowling, I don’t need to have been conscious to know that coming to visit me saved you from pulling a whole host of all nighters in the not-too-distant past.” 

Farah parted her lips to speak once more, no doubt readying herself to defend her position, when rounding the corner you both caught sight of Bloom, a piece of paper in her hand as she headed in your direction. The girl’s face split into a smile upon spotting you and as she neared she quickened her pace, clearly having been seeking you out. 

“Hey moms,” she greeted, a slight laugh edging her words at the still new term of address. As she came to a stop before you, Bloom’s gaze ran over Farah, a look of slight shock playing across her features. “Wow - honestly, I was expecting to have to come up to your office to find you. Mom finally managed to drag you away from your work, huh?” The girl nodded at you in line with the question and you noticed how the corners of her lips curled up mischievously. Pressing your fingers to your lips you tried your best to stifle a snort at how quickly Bloom had begun poking fun at Farah - apparently another trait of yours that you had managed to pass on despite your not raising her.

Farah only rolled her eyes in response, shaking her head in mock exasperation as she turned to you. “One minute she can’t even decide what to call us and the next she’s sassing me. I blame your genetics.” 

“I mean, I’d argue but… honestly, that’s a fair judgement,” you laughed, turning your attention back to Bloom. “You were looking for us?” 

Your question seemed to snap Bloom back to herself and she quickly re-focussed, glancing down at the paper in her hands briefly before addressing you once more. “Yeah, I um… I actually wanted to ask you guys if you might want to come to a carnival with me this weekend? It’s nothing huge, just this thing they do in my hometown back in California every year. There’ll be games and junk food and maybe even a couple of cheesy rides.” As she spoke, you watched how Bloom’s eyes sparkled, the happy memories tied to this event clear as day in her expression. Your heart felt lighter just seeing the joy that those memories brought her and you glanced over at Farah, pleased to find that she seemed intrigued by the offer, though you could also sense a hesitance within her. “I just thought, you know, we haven’t really all done much as a family and it’s something I used to do with my parents every year so - seemed like something that could be fun?” 

You felt your heart tighten then. Bloom wanted to spend time with you; she wanted to get to know you enough that she was finding things for you to all do together that would allow you to bond. It was enough to almost make you giddy with joy. Squeezing Farah’s hand, you smiled up at her, hoping that the hesitance that you had seen in her moments before wouldn’t be the undoing of this. “I don’t have any plans for this weekend,” you prompted softly. 

For a moment Farah paused, her gaze shifting from you back to Bloom, then somewhere off into the distance. Though she didn’t speak, you could feel the debate going on within her. The exhaustion of the week would leave her with little energy and, though she hated to admit it, Farah knew that when she wasn’t sleeping she would still have work that she should be doing over the weekend. Despite that truth, however, you could see that Farah wanted to say yes to Bloom. On a few occasions now the two of you had suggested doing more to create memories with your daughter and this would be a perfect opportunity. Farah wouldn’t want to pass it up if she could help it. 

As Farah’s silence stretched on Bloom’s confidence in her suggestion seemed to waver. Her smile faltered and you watched as she fiddled with the piece of paper in her hands anxiously. “I mean, Mom, if you’re too busy I get it. It was just an idea and it’ll probably be really tacky anyway and…” 

“Bloom,” Farah interjected, catching the girl’s eye; Bloom’s rambling appeared to have made her decision for her, “I’d love to. Just, leave it with me. I may have to move a few of my plans around, but I’ll make time.” Farah smiled reassuringly at your daughter and you watched as the encroaching anxiety faded from the girl’s expression, replaced by the biggest grin you had seen her wear.

“Really? Great! So, I got you guys a flyer for it, so you’d know what we were doing and… yeah.” Proudly presenting the flyer to you, Bloom bounced on her toes a little and, for a moment, you could just imagine what it would have been like to have a smaller version of this sweet girl asking for permission to go to a birthday party or go out to play with her friends. You almost teared up at the thought, biting back the overwhelming joy within and controlling it as best you could as you took the flyer from your daughter’s outstretched hand. 

“Thank you Bloom, that’s really helpful,” you smiled. 

“No big deal,” she brushed you off, looking between you and Farah once more. “Okay, so, I guess I’ll let you go home now. See you Saturday?” 

Giving your assurances that you would be there, you waved Bloom off and watched as she slipped past you and disappeared into the fairy hall from whence you had come. Carefully, you tucked the flyer into your pocket before turning back to Farah, an eyebrow raised at her in question. 

“Was the aim to make her sweat?” You asked teasingly. Farah just shot you a look, bumping your arm with hers lightly. 

“Don’t be like that, you know that my time is limited at present.” 

“I know,” you sighed, leaning into her side gently. Farah released your hand as you did so, shifting to wrap her arm around you as you recommenced your journey home. “Thank you, though… for saying yes. It’ll be good to spend some time with her.”

Farah hummed her agreement and you settled into a comfortable silence as you strolled the rest of the way home, wrapped up in one another. 

-

Travelling by magic never ceased to amaze you – a mere moment ago you were in Alfea, now you found yourself staring at a busy street in another country - another world. The air was warmer, more humid than the weather in Alfea or Solaria could ever be. A multitude of vehicles zoomed past as though in a hurry and the passing traffic was loud; it took you a moment to adjust as you held Farah’s hand firmly in your own.

“Are you alright, darling?” Farah asked, a look of concern crossing her features as she regarded you, her hand coming to rest at the base of your back. It had been a long time since you’d ventured into the First World and it was clear Farah could sense your hesitation. You nodded but gave her hand another squeeze before following Bloom further through the foreign landscape. The girl seemed to be bubbling over with excitement as she led you through the streets and her mood had an infectious effect on you. Glancing over at Farah you were relieved to see that she too was smiling, some of the tension you’d seen in her earlier in the day having melted away somewhat. 

Bloom chatted animatedly as she walked between you and Farah, pointing out some of her favourite restaurants and cafes. That she had chosen to position herself between you caused a jolt of pride in you and you couldn’t help but enjoy the knowledge that people on the street would recognise her as your daughter - the thought alone was almost too much to believe. 

The weather was comfortably warm and a breeze rippled through the light fabric of your dress - you had chosen it carefully for the occasion: it was white with a myriad of tiny flowers in different shades of pink reaching just below your knees. The neckline was a deep cut and had delicate buttons from the top to the very bottom of the hem. Farah had smiled appreciatively as you had put it on, noting how it complemented her own outfit of wide linen slacks and a light pink sleeveless blouse which displayed her toned arms beautifully.

“Look, there it is!” Bloom said excitedly as she pointed to the entrance of the carnival. The entrance itself was beautifully decorated with various flowers and greens running along the arc of it. As though Bloom was now ten years old again, she grabbed both Farah’s and your hand and pulled you closer. You let out a laugh, and heard Farah’s own deep chuckle as Bloom continued in her advance. This was absolute heaven, never in your life had you felt this happiness, this pure joy at being part of a family. Though somewhere deep within it stung that you could’ve had so many more moments like this throughout Bloom’s life, you decided to push the feeling away and focus on the present. You were getting your opportunity now - that had to be enough.

Farah paid for three tickets and in the next moment you were amongst a crowd of  carnival-goers looking for where to start; excitement bloomed within you at all of the prospects. “Where would you like to start, Bloom?” you asked, flashing Farah a grin as she halted next to you, her hand brushing yours.

Bloom stood, considering for several moments as her gaze travelled over the various stalls. Her eyes shone as she turned towards you, grinning. “There.” She pointed over at the booth with little round targets and several people holding small rifles attempting to hit them. “Wanna see who gets the stuffed animal first?”

You snorted, well aware that at your level, specialist training included training with firearms. “You’re on.”

Farah merely chucked, shaking her head in amusement as she followed close behind.

Bloom had a go first and you were impressed when she hit the first target smack in the middle. The girl looked over at you, grinning and apparently pleased with herself. She would have to hit at least three to get a prize and you watched with increasing trepidation as she missed the next two. By the end of the row Bloom had only hit two of the required targets, but merely shrugged as she handed the weapon to you. 

Positioning the gun firmly into your shoulder, you curled your arm around it and fired. It missed, which was odd seeing as you had aimed it in the middle and, as this particular weapon was not firing real bullets, there would be no effect from recoil. Huffing, you readjusted for the angling that felt necessary after the first shot and hit the next target head on. The hint of worry that had curled within you at your first miss eased with the hit and, continuing in quick succession, you hit the next four with similar precision, a satisfied smirk pulling at your lips. Ushering Bloom to you, you let her pick out the stuffed animal of her choice and you were amused to see it was a giant kitten.

“How’d you do that?” Bloom asked in amazement, clutching her kitten to her chest, looking every bit the small child you often dreamed she would have been.

You chuckled. “It’s quite simple really, once you figure out that they’ve adjusted the aim.” You glanced over at Farah whose eyes were sparkling in amusement and with a hint of pride. She curled her arm around your waist, pulling you close whilst pressing a kiss to your temple and you followed Bloom to the next booth.

As Bloom moved on you noticed that she gravitated towards the Foul Shot booth: a row of netted basketball hoops lining the back-board of the stand, each one surrounded, in the pit at the bottom, by a multitude of different coloured basketballs. The entire ceiling of the booth was decked out with a number of different prize options and as Bloom approached you caught her eyeing up her options, as if she knew that this was a game that she could win. Glancing to the side you caught Farah’s eye and grew all the more curious at the slight upturn of her lips. 

“What are you grinning at?” you asked gently, a finger subtly poking at her side to get the woman’s attention. 

“She’s projecting and I’m feeling nothing but confidence,” came the murmured response, Farah’s eyes never leaving Bloom’s form as she took the first basketball in hand. 

“Okay, so the game’s this,” started the attendant on the booth, a scraggly looking young man with a mop of knotted dark hair and an oily looking complexion. “Make one basket and you pick a small prize, two and you can pick one of the big ones.” 

“What if I make all three?” Bloom asked, challenge colouring her words. Farah chuckled beside you at the boldness of the question.

“You make all three and it’s player’s choice,” the young man said, flashing Bloom a smile. There was something you didn’t like in the way that he was looking at her and, without much thought, you took a step closer, coughing to get his attention as you stared him down. To your relief, the look that crossed his face appeared somewhat panicked and, without turning back to Bloom he added: “maybe one of each, if you’re that good, kid.” 

If Bloom’s posture and Farah’s reading of her emotions were anything to go by, those were good odds. Gripping the first ball firmly Bloom took a moment, seeming to gauge her shot and the power required. She mapped out the shot once, then twice, before gracefully throwing the ball over and directly into her assigned hoop. Beside you, you watched Farah’s smile grow and a warmth radiated through your chest at the sight of her so at ease and happy. 

“That’s shot one,” the young man behind the booth said, handing Bloom the next ball. Again, Bloom lined up the shot and sank the ball straight into the net as though it were nothing. 

You knew that shock was written clearly across your face, your eyebrows raised now as you looked at Farah once more. “Did you know this was a skill she had?” 

Farah only chuckled, shaking her head. “We both know she didn’t get any sporting prowess from me,” she commented. 

“Shot two down.” Even the young man seemed impressed now, watching with his arms crossed over his chest. “Try not to miss - looks like you got a bit of an audience growing.” 

Glancing back over her shoulder, Bloom first looked to you and Farah, but swiftly her gaze slipped over you and a little ways over your right shoulder. Standing in a little huddle were a man, woman and their little boy, the man and woman watching Bloom’s game whilst their son pulled at his father’s trouser leg in an attempt to get his attention. For a moment, you thought that the pressure of being watched may get to Bloom but then, her gaze slipping back to you; she grinned, leaning back to perch on the side of the booth and, without looking, tossed the third ball over her shoulder. 

Your eyes widened further in shock, your eyebrows raising to an almost comical height as you stared at the sight before you. The ball didn’t slip right into the hoop as it had the first two times; this time it caught on the back of the hoop, bounced once onto the backboard of the booth and for a moment it looked as though it would slip down into the pit below, leaving Bloom having thrown away her last shot. Just when you thought it would fall, however, you watched as the ball skimmed the hoop again before dropping down into the net below. 

Behind you, the couple who had been watching Bloom burst out into a round of applause and Bloom herself laughed seemingly in surprise, selecting a large Dragon stuffie from the prizes available before heading back over to you. The light in her eyes and the grin on her face had you clapping your approval yourself as she got close and, upon reaching you, she dropped into a dramatic bow, laughing again at her own antics. 

“Something you’ve been keeping from us?” Farah asked as she nodded back to the booth. 

Bloom tried to play it off as nothing, though you noticed the light blush along her cheeks. “I used to play a bit in middle school - no big deal. Guess I still got it,” she shrugged. 

“Well, I, for one, am very impressed.” Farah said, the pride clear in her voice  as she smiled. 

“You should be proud,” came a voice from behind you and, turning, you all found the man from before stood not too far off. His face was kind and he smiled first to Bloom, then to Farah. “You got a talented daughter there - I used to play a bit in my time but could never make a shot like that. Get her in a team and she could be great!” 

He went to continue speaking but before he could utter another word a small voice broke through from around his legs and, looking down, you caught sight of the child still pulling at his trouser leg. “Dad, I wanna go get cotton candy!” the boy whined. Smiling down at him, his father sighed. 

“Heard you the first time kiddo, we’re gonna go now, okay?” 

They were about to leave when Bloom stepped forwards, crouching down to reach the height of the little boy. “Hey kid,” she murmured, conspiratorially, “come here a sec?” 

The child glanced up at his father, hesitance in his eyes in the way that a small child always hesitates when addressed by a stranger. The father paused for a moment, looking at Bloom before nodding his head in encouragement. Slowly the little boy stepped forwards, his whining voice quieted to nothing as he got nearer. 

Smiling, Bloom lifted up the stuffed dragon that she had just chosen, looking at it as though considering something. “Y’know,” she started, “I already got a really cool cat over there that my mom’s holding.” Briefly, blue eyes turned back to you so that the boy’s attention was turned on the stuffed kitten that you held in your arms. “I’m thinking that maybe this dragon could do with a home where it can have all of someone’s attention instead of just some. You wanna take care of that for me?” 

The boy’s eyes lit up immediately, his gaze turning to the fairly large stuffed dragon and the way that the sunlight reflected off of the golden stitching across its wings. “For real?” he asked hopefully. 

Bloom laughed, holding the dragon out to him. “For real,” she reassured. 

As the father and son left in the direction of the boy’s mother, the father sent another smile in Farah’s direction: “seriously, great daughter you got there.” 

The day went on and between visiting games booths and stuffing your faces with all sorts of greasy and sugary junk food you couldn’t remember a day that you had enjoyed more. There were a few rides dotted around too: roller coasters, bumper cars, a carousel and even a Ferris wheel, each of which Farah insisted on riding at Bloom’s side, a youthful joy springing to her eyes with each ride that they approached. Whilst you liked a ride as much as the next person, someone had to babysit Bloom’s stuffed kitten and so you sat on the side-lines and watched as your girls had their fill, often coming back to you in fits of laughter, their arms interlinked. 

Slowly the sun sank beyond the horizon and the sky filtered from blue to red, purple creeping in before the night sky stretched out above you, the stars fighting to be seen above the artificial glow of the carnival’s many forms of lighting that radiated up into the atmosphere. The excitement of the day was starting to wain into a calm contentment for the three of you and, as you walked through the stalls and booths, Farah’s arm wrapped tightly around you whilst Bloom strolled along at her other side, you couldn’t help but sigh, looking up at the lights framing your path. The whole atmosphere of this place felt magical to you somehow, which was a true achievement in your books given you were in a committed relationship with an actual fairy. You were glad that, though Bloom had grown up away from her own world, there had still been parts of this one that could supply her with some magic in place of that which she had lost. 

To your right you caught sight of the Ferris wheel that you had passed several times already throughout the day, smiling up at it as you nudged Farah with your hip. “Hey, I know Bloom’s had you up there twice already but, I don’t suppose I could steal you away for a quick ride before we think about heading home?” Your words were soft and Farah smiled, squeezing your hip lightly. 

“Bloom, will you be alright on your own for a little bit? Your mum would like a go on the Ferris wheel.” Farah’s gaze fell upon you, all softness and love and you couldn’t help but push up onto your toes to kiss her.

Bloom’s gaze softened as she looked between you both, a small smile pulling at her lips. “You know, most kids would immediately call this gross, but you guys are so cute.” She laughed slightly before nodding. “Go on, I’m gonna have another go at that hook-a-duck thing that beat me earlier.” 

The view from the Ferris wheel was incredible as your seat rose higher and higher into the sky. Whilst the Other World was so widely made up of green fields and forests outside of the main cities, it seemed that the First World had grown far more densely populated since you had last visited - and even then there had been a stark difference from home. Now, as you curled into Farah’s side, you gazed out over a labyrinth of streets and buildings, electrical lighting dotted about all over the place to the point where you could barely see where the glow of the light ended and the night sky began. Though the sounds of people and traffic were muffled up here, you were still taken aback by the ever present noise that pervaded this world, and at the sound of a siren breaking what little peace you had found you sighed softly against Farah’s shoulder. 

“Penny for your thoughts?” Farah murmured as she turned to press a kiss to the crown of your head, gathering you closer still in her arms as your head rested on her shoulder. Were it not for the bar holding you securely into your seats you were almost certain that you would be sitting directly in her lap by now. 

“This place…” you murmured, taking in the view once more. “It’s hard to believe that once we thought that we would run away to somewhere like this, trying to keep Faye… Bloom safe.” 

A soft sigh ghosted over your hair where Farah’s chin rested and she hummed her agreement. “It’s a far cry from the world we’ve known, but growing up here doesn’t seem to have done her any harm.” 

Quiet fell once more and for a moment you allowed your eyes to slip shut, breathing in Farah’s scent. Her fingers had slipped just below the hem of your skirt as she held you to her and were tracing light patterns along the skin there. You turned to press a soft kiss to her collarbone, your mind still turning over the life that you may have had. 

“Do you think we could have done it?” you asked after a moment. “Life here, I mean. Setting up a home amongst all of this chaos?” 

“If we had needed to. It certainly would have been easier to hide Bloom… there’s a reason that Rosalind chose this place I would imagine.” You felt as Farah’s free hand caught at your jaw, gently guiding your gaze up to meet her own. Hazel eyes met yours and you felt that familiar warmth that had settled over you several times throughout the day taking hold of your heart once more. “Why all the questions about the past, my love?” she asked softly. 

You were grateful for the dark hiding the blush that coloured your cheeks. “I suppose being in this world has brought some things up… what might have been. Would we have had more children? Made normal, human friends? Got married?” 

Farah remained quiet for a moment. You could feel her contemplating over each question. Then, softly, she began murmuring into your hair where she had buried her nose once more. “I think we would have made friends with those surrounding us,” she said, “though likely you would have taken to that more easily than I. Perhaps, had our magic willed it so, we could have even had more children. I doubt we would have expected it, given that we still don’t quite know how we managed it the first time.” She laughed softly at that, your own giggle joining hers. 

“I think we know some of how it happened,” you grinned up at her, not missing how she quirked an eyebrow suggestively before capturing your lips in a brief but heated kiss. 

“As for marriage,” Farah continued a little breathlessly when she finally found it in herself to part from you, “I would be lying if I said that I hadn’t considered it, even before everything.” 

A curious smile pulled at your lips then, your eyes searching Farah’s face for something that you couldn’t quite place. “You thought about marrying me?” you asked after a moment. 

“Rather seriously actually.” Farah’s eyes were fixed ahead now, hazy eyes staring out at the view of the city as you sat there, suspended in the air. A sad smile played around the corners of her lips. “Even before we discovered your pregnancy I… I had plans. Then Aster Dell happened… Faye… Rosalind.” Farah’s eyes flicked shut and she took a steadying breath, her grip on you tightening a little. “It wasn’t the time.” Slowly she turned to you once more, a hesitant curiosity in her own eyes. “Did you ever consider it?” 

A soft laugh bubbled up from you then and you buried your face in her neck, once more attempting to hide the blush colouring your cheeks. Farah swatted at your thigh softly, a playful tone entering her voice. “Why are you laughing at that?” she asked, a chuckle edging her own tone somewhat. 

“Because,” you said, taking a breath to calm yourself once more, “I can’t imagine any scenario where I wouldn’t have been thinking about marrying you.” 

With a nod of her head in understanding and a small smile playing along her lips, Farah pressed a kiss to your lips: once, twice, three times. She brushed her nose to yours, eyes almost closed as she whispered: “my love…” 

Then all at once the Ferris wheel creaked and began to move again, whatever she had been planning on saying ending up lost to the night as you were returned back to the ground.  

-

Your mind was still buzzing with fond moments from throughout the day as you lay curled on the sofa with Farah later that evening and you squeezed your eyes shut in an effort to commit them all to memory. It was as though you could still taste the sweet air on your tongue and hear the lively chatter of the people that surrounded you. Seeing Bloom as happy and carefree as you had today was a true gift, her smile infectious in a way that had you smiling again just at the thought of it. A comfortable warmth spread across your chest as you considered your daughter. You were happy to have finally been given the opportunity to make some new memories together as a family. As you sunk deeper into the sofa, a smile tugged at the corner of your lips, you felt Farah’s hand close around your ankle with your legs resting in her lap.

“You look happy” Farah murmured, a curious look in her eye as her gaze met yours.

Your smile only grew at her acknowledgement and you scooted closer, reaching out to stroke the back of her neck with your thumb. “I am,” you confessed. “I was just thinking about today, how lovely it was.”

Farah hummed in agreement. “It most certainly was.” Her gaze lingered on you and for a moment you felt overwhelmed with adoration for her, your chest tightening as you reminded yourself to breathe.

A moment passed as you gazed at one another and you started to sense a hesitation in Farah that hadn’t been there before, as though there were some inner battle going on beyond those beautiful hazel eyes. You leaned over and placed a soft kiss on her lips, your fingers moving to cup her jaw. “Love? What are you thinking about?” 

Chewing at her lip lightly, you could see Farah’s reluctance to broach the subject. You were certain that she was hesitant to spoil your good mood but, as you murmured her name once more, she acquiesced. “Bloom,” she admitted. 

From her hesitance you could tell what it was that was bothering her and after another moment you asked: “have you found a way to reconcile your role as both mother and teacher yet?” You approached the question carefully, knowing that it was a sensitive topic, your hand once more stroking the soft skin at the back of her neck.

As Farah’s gaze met yours once more, you saw guilt flash across her eyes and you felt your heart constrict at the sight. “I know I should be able to separate the two…”

“Don’t,” you began and found that your voice was firmer than you had perhaps intended. “This is a huge adjustment for you, don’t force it - and don’t feel guilty that it’s taking you some time.”

Farah let out a sigh then, nodding her head in understanding. “I know, you’re right. It’s a challenge, but I appreciate your understanding.”

Chuckling slightly at the formality of her wording, you shifted your position, straddling Farah as her hands fell easily onto your hips. “I wouldn’t be a very good partner if I didn’t understand, my love,” you whispered, your hands reaching out to cup her face. “Be patient with yourself; you deserve that much.” 

Gently your thumbs traced the line of her cheekbones and, closing the distance between you, you met her lips in a soft, lingering kiss. A breathy sigh fell from Farah’s lips at the contact, her hands travelling from your hips as she slipped them beneath your shirt, seeking your bare skin. The kiss started gently but soon grew heated, your tongue seeking hers and your teeth pulling at her bottom lip. Farah all but growled at the action and you smiled into the kiss, fuelled on by her clear enjoyment of your attentions.

As you parted in need of air, you appraised Farah for several long moments, your breath almost taken from your lungs at the sight of her – she was utterly beautiful. Her lips were slightly swollen, the corner of her mouth a pale shade of pink where your teeth had dragged across the skin. Her normally perfectly coiffed up-do was slightly ruffled where you had dug your hands into her soft hair in your need to pull her impossibly closer. The hesitation and guilt that had resided in her gaze only moments before had vanished completely and now her eyes were dark and full of desire. You felt arousal coil in your stomach at the knowledge that you could have such an effect on her.

Farah’s hands were warm and soft as they brushed over the bare skin of your back, a look of longing seeping from her gaze, then all at once she surged forwards to meet your lips in another searing kiss. She was everywhere: her hands, her lips, her scent - she consumed you in that moment and you found yourself almost overwhelmed by the need to feel more of her. Just as you were about to undo the buttons of Farah’s shirt, however, your phone chimed.

“Really? Now?” Farah groaned, her forehead still pressed to yours, your lips mere inches apart. “Can’t it wait?” she asked with a hint of disappointment in her voice as you reached out to grab your phone.

You raised an eyebrow at her, a smirk clear on your face. “Impatient, are we? And here I thought you were the one with no free time to spend with me.”

“I always have time for this,” Farah purred in response, her lips capturing yours again. Pulling away, with mischief dancing in her eyes, she let her nails drag over your spine and you couldn’t help but shudder at the sensation. Upon seeing the text that had lit up the screen of your phone though, you let out a quizzical hm and Farah stilled her movements, fixing you with a questioning gaze.

“It’s Bloom, she’s asking if she can come over.” You felt a wave of worry wash over you as you continued to stare down at the text. What if something was wrong? You’d seen her only hours ago, what could’ve happened between then and now that was so urgent?

Farah seemed to sense the growth of worry in you immediately and squeezed your hips reassuringly. “Of course she can come over. Don’t look so worried sweetheart, I’m sure she’s just fine.” She reached up and placed a chaste kiss to your lips as though to calm you, a reassuring smile pulling at her own.

“And if she isn’t?” you asked, trying to control the sense of panic gripping at your insides. 

“Then we will deal with whatever is wrong together,” Farah said, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead now. She smiled fondly, her hands slipping down to your thighs as she added: “we’ll have to continue this later.” 

Smiling at her, you reached out to brush her lips with your thumb, chuckling as she pressed a light kiss to the skin there. Farah always had a way of reassuring you, bringing you back down from a wave of worry, and you felt some of the tension leave your shoulders as she ran her hands over your back once more, her touch easing your racing mind.

“I look forward to it,” you murmured.

-

The moment Bloom crossed the threshold you could tell that something was wrong. Her eyes were red, as though she’d been crying, and her body seemed tense in a way you hadn’t noticed earlier in the day.

“What’s happened?” You asked, attempting to keep your voice even as you spoke; you could feel concern rising in your chest and gripping at your lungs. 

Bloom had moved through the house easily once she was in, gravitating towards the dining room where she sat herself down, her fingers tapping anxiously against the surface of the table and her knee bouncing up and down beneath it. You found a seat opposite her as you spoke, looking up to meet Farah’s gaze as she halted from moving about the kitchen to put the kettle on. Her feelings seemed to mirror yours judging by the worried look that flashed across her features.

Bloom bit her lip, seemingly hesitant at where to begin. “I uhm…” she paused again, her eyes cast down to the table before her. Sensing her need for comfort, you reached out and gave her hand a reassuring squeeze.

“You know Sky?” she asked, her voice low.

Your expression faltered as you tried to recall, the influx of new faces since your awakening still causing problems when it came to matching said faces to names. Sky was Saul’s adoptive son, you recalled, though you knew very little of him beyond that. Thankfully, Farah swept back into the room at Bloom’s question, seemingly knowing exactly who Bloom was talking about.

Rounding the table, Farah placed the tray of tea that she had been preparing down in the centre before finding the seat next to you. “Of course,” she replied, and you grimaced inwardly at the tone of her voice – now that of Headmistress Dowling.

Without looking up, Bloom continued. “He and I, we’re sort of, erm, seeing each other.” As soon as she uttered the words her cheeks reddened and it seemed as though she was regretting saying it.

You glanced over at Farah and, noticing that her eyes had gone wide, you nudged her knee with yours beneath the table. At the contact she cleared her throat. “Did something happen?” she asked; you could tell she was finding it difficult to hide her shock.

Bloom seemed to get the same impression, not quite meeting Farah’s gaze as she spoke again. “We argued…” she admitted. Her voice was small, her tone fragile, and it caused your heart to ache. Though you knew that arguments within relationships were nothing unusual, you couldn’t help the instinct that rose up within you to find Sky and berate him for upsetting your girl. It was all you could do to bite back the urge and remain in your seat.

Bloom’s lips parted then closed again, the girl appearing torn on what to say or how much to tell you. Between her internal debate and the still stark look of shock painted on Farah’s face, you could have laughed at the situation had it not been for that still overwhelming instinct to protect your daughter when she seemed so lost and hurt. However, sensing that you had to be the one to refocus this situation now that the news of your daughter’s relationship status appeared to have broken Farah’s brain, you reached out, placing a reassuring hand on her knee and giving it a gentle squeeze to bring her back to the present. 

“You don’t have to tell us anything that you don’t want to, Bloom,” you said, turning your attention back to your daughter. “We’re here for you in any way that you need.” Though a voice was screaming at the back of your mind that yes, of course you wanted to know what had happened, you sensed that that wasn’t necessarily what Bloom needed from either of you in this moment.

The silence seemed to stretch on for long moments and you could tell from the look of concentration on Bloom’s face that she was contemplating hard. Another minute passed by before she met your gaze with hesitant eyes. “I don’t really want to talk about it.” She paused, but quickly continued. “I know I came here wanting to see you, it’s just that we’ve had such an amazing day and I don’t want to spoil…”

Bloom’s words felt as though they were going to continue pouring from her in an endless stream and you reached out across the table, squeezing her hand to calm her. “Sweetheart,” you began, your voice halting the torrent of words cascading from your daughter’s lips, “it’s alright . We’ll just, er, hang out, as you say these days. We could watch a movie or something, if you like?” Your gaze travelled to meet Farah’s momentarily, her shock from before appearing to have settled as she gave you a warm smile.

When the three of you had relocated to the sofa a little while later it felt almost surreal, as though you had stepped into one of those dreams of the life that you could have had. You leaned into Farah’s side as you settled yourself and Bloom sat cross legged next to you, having taken control of the remote. “Ooh,” she began in a melodic tone, “how about The Devil Wears Prada?”

You chuckled at Bloom’s excitement. “Never heard of it, but sure, put it on.” To you it didn’t really matter what the movie was, your attention would be focussed on your daughter more than the film. Glancing over at Farah you found her eyebrows raised in question, but you could see the sparkle of amusement dancing in her eyes.

“You’ve never heard of The Devil Wears Prada?” she whispered, an incredulous tone seeping into her voice as she smirked at you. 

“I was unconscious for sixteen years - it’s fair to say I missed a lot,” you muttered back, swatting at her thigh lightly. You only received a low hum in response as Farah pressed a kiss to the corner of your lips.

Bloom watched the movie with rapt attention, pointing out her favourite moments throughout and you got the impression she’d seen this movie more than once. The whole situation was idyllic, the way the three of you laughed together and how Bloom bumped her shoulder playfully against yours on occasion creating an atmosphere of familiarity and ease that you had always hoped for within your little family. Farah too seemed lighter than she had been in days, an air of happiness radiating off of her that touched your heart.

Now that the credits were rolling over the screen however, nothing but the music from the movie filled the silent air. Glancing over, you saw that Bloom had fallen asleep, her knees drawn up to her chest and her head resting on the armrest of the sofa. You nudged Farah gently to draw her attention and, as her hazel eyes fell onto Bloom, her gaze softened.

Rising carefully from the sofa, you took a blanket and tucked it over the sleeping girl. She looked serene where she lay and for a moment you saw a hint of the baby girl you had once held in your arms. The memory caused a jolt of hurt in your core though you did your best to shake it off. It was easier to move past the pain now that your mind was filled with the wonderful moments that you were beginning to create with Bloom and Farah - your little family. Bending down, you placed a gentle kiss to the sleeping girl’s forehead before following Farah into the kitchen.

Farah seemed to tip-toe around as she reached for two glasses, seemingly finding any sound too loud with the threat of waking Bloom now hanging over you. You let out a soft chuckle at her caution, moving to stand behind her and pressing your nose into her back. Farah stilled her movement and let out a deep sigh of contentment as she set the glasses on the counter. You pressed a kiss to her shoulder before moving to stand next to her. “This evening has been a nice surprise, don’t you think?” you murmured.

“It has been, indeed,” Farah agreed in a whisper. “It felt so natural, the three of us like this.” There was a hint of surprise in her voice, as though she hadn’t expected it to feel this way. You could understand such feelings – only a short while ago she had confessed how she was still struggling to attune herself to the new life that had sprung up around her.

Leaning closer and pressing a kiss to her cheek, you whispered: “small steps, love. It’s often the little things that matter most.”

The two of you settled at the kitchen counter, sipping a glass of wine and exchanged whispered words. It was strange; suddenly it felt as though this had always been your life – being parents.

After a while, however, an ear-splitting shriek burst through the tranquillity that had settled over you and it felt as though your heart leapt out of your chest in panic – it was Bloom. Both you and Farah bolted into the living room, falling onto your knees next to the sofa as Bloom continued to let out heart wrenching screams.

You shook Bloom’s shoulders forcefully to wake her and in the next moment her eyes shot open confusion slipping over her expression momentarily before she realised where she was. The pause that followed was worse than the screaming; her expression faltered before, all at once, she began to sob. Without hesitation you pulled Bloom into your arms, pressing several kisses to the side and top of her head. “You’re safe sweetheart, it’s alright. We’re here.” You cooed, rocking her gently from side to side as she clutched at you with a fierce grip. For several long moments you remained like that - holding your daughter to you as she cried, Farah reaching out to run soothing fingers through the girl’s hair as you shared anxious looks over her head.

As Bloom’s sobs began to subside, she pulled away haltingly,  sitting up on the sofa and rubbing tears from her eyes. You remained on the floor, watching her with a look of concern, suddenly not sure what to say. Whilst you knew better than most what it was like to suffer from nightmares, you couldn’t find the words that would bring Bloom the comfort that she needed in that moment. To your surprise, Farah moved then, seating herself next to Bloom before reaching out and brushing away some of the remaining tears with her thumb. “A bad dream?” she murmured softly, studying Bloom with nothing but love in her eyes.

Bloom nodded, sniffling. “It’s stupid,” she began, as though chastising herself. “It’s about that night, with the Burned Ones… when I killed them.” Her gaze cast downwards and you felt your heart constrict at the look of shame in her eyes.

Farah placed a gentle finger beneath Bloom’s chin, forcing the girl to meet her gaze. “You showed courage which I’ve rarely seen before that night.” She reassured, pausing for a moment, though her gaze never left Bloom’s. “That being said, I understand that it can be difficult - taking a life is no small thing, even if they were the lives of Burned Ones.” Farah seemed to hesitate for a moment before she went on. “May I try something using magic?” she asked carefully.

Nodding, Bloom straightened, seemingly unsure of what to expect. You watched Farah in anticipation, expecting the characteristic shimmer in her eyes. Instead, Farah drew Bloom into her arms and it seemed like the most natural thing in the world. Bloom’s eyes shut almost instantly as her head rested against Farah’s chest, evidently feeling utterly safe in Farah’s embrace. Though you knew little of magic, you were familiar with Farah’s and you felt it in the air as she comforted Bloom – her power radiating off of her like a soothing balm that filled the room. Watching them, it was clear to you that Farah’s instincts had endured the hardships of the years passed – she had never ceased being Bloom’s mother.

Chapter Text

The sun was streaming in through the windows over your bed when you awoke the next morning, the light visible behind your eyelids before you had even fully pulled yourself to consciousness. For a moment you were confused, certain that you had pulled the curtains closed before you went to sleep; your confusion was sated very quickly, however, when you felt the weight of Farah rolling closer to you as her chin came to rest on your shoulder. Though your eyes remained closed, your mind pulled itself into a waking state and, laying there, you felt as Farah pressed a soft kiss to your shoulder, swiftly followed by another along your collarbone. 

“Darling?” Her voice was soft yet alert. You felt as long, warm fingers mapped the line of your neck down to your chest and an open mouthed kiss was pressed to the opposite side of your neck, the feeling enough to make you catch your breath. “Are you awake sweetheart?” 

“Hard not to be with whatever you’re up to,” you mumbled and you felt as Farah smiled against your skin, her nose still nuzzled into the crook of your neck. 

“Sorry, I’ve been awake for a while: listening to you breathe, watching you… you’re so very pretty,” she mused. 

Another kiss was pressed to the underside of your jaw and slowly you allowed your eyes to flicker open, adjusting to the light as you blinked a few times. Sensing the change, Farah pulled her head from your neck, propping herself up on her elbow above you and, for a moment, you had to remind yourself to breathe. No matter how many times you awoke by her side, you could never quite get used to the feeling of complete contentment and love that consumed you at the sight of her. 

Farah gazed down at you, her face completely devoid of makeup and sleep still gathered at the corners of her eyes. Her hair hung in thick curtains of curls around her shoulders and she carefully brushed it back as it fell into her face, her focus never leaving you as she did so. The way that her lips curled up into a soft smile had your heart skipping slightly and you lifted your hands to her cheeks, carefully brushing the sleep from her eyes as you lifted yourself to press a lingering kiss to her lips. 

“Hi,” she murmured when you finally pulled back from her, her nose still brushing your own as she lowered you back to the mattress. 

“Hi yourself.” Your fingers carefully trailed from her cheeks to her shoulders and in the moment of quiet that followed you gently toyed with the straps of her nightgown, the thin silk slipping easily beneath your touch. “To what do I owe this very pleasant wake up call?” 

Your question sent a smirk splaying across Farah’s lips and she lowered herself to you once more, her lips now hovering over your own. “We were interrupted in our moment of intimacy last night,” she murmured, her lips brushing yours as she spoke. “I thought it only right that we make up for that now.” Soft lips captured yours once more and Farah nipped at your lower lip, sucking at it lightly before pulling back. “And as I said - you are very, very pretty.” 

A low hum emanated from somewhere deep within you and, slowly, your hands began to wander. One pulled the strap of Farah’s nightgown aside as you leant up, your lips pressing to her shoulder lightly. The other hand skimmed her waist, slipping to her hip, and you felt as Farah shifted, one leg being thrown over your body until she was straddling your hips. 

“If all it takes to get a morning like this is a little interruption, perhaps we need to be paused in our intimacies more often,” you joked as Farah sat tall above you. Both of your hands had slipped to her hips now and you gripped the flesh there, your fingers migrating lower to her thighs, slipping beneath her nightgown and teasing at the delicate skin between Farah’s thigh and hip bone. 

Chuckling softly, she leant down, capturing your lips in a more heated kiss than before, the persistence behind it drawing a soft mewl from you. “And deny ourselves what we both so clearly want?” She asked between kisses. “I think we’ve been denied enough, have we not?” 

As Farah’s kisses grew more persistent you could feel the heat at the apex of her thighs building, pressing against your stomach as her hips rolled ever so slightly. You could sense her need growing and you trailed gentle fingers over her thighs to slip further beneath the skirt of her nightgown and press to her centre. You bit her lip, pulling softly as you dragged your fingers through her folds, noting the lack of underwear with a soft chuckle. 

“Someone planned on this all along, I see,” you commented as you pulled your lips from hers. Above you, Farah’s cheeks flushed a deeper shade of pink than your kisses had already drawn them to, her fingers toying with a curl of your hair. 

“I will admit to having been feeling somewhat restless since last night.” The fingers in your hair trailed over your shoulder and chest, a hand coming to cup your breast lightly. You bit your lower lip at the feeling of Farah’s touch through the silk of your own nightgown, her thumb brushing over your nipple achingly slowly. “I may have allowed my need for you to govern some of my choices.” Her fingers closed around your nipple then, pinching lightly until a gasp slipped from your lips, your back arching into her touch. 

“You could just say that you were horny, love,” you suggested, letting out a strained chuckle. At your words, Farah pulled lightly at your nipple and a soft moan was ripped from your lips, your hips rocking up into the weight of the woman still perched atop you of their own volition. 

“Mmm, I wondered how long it would be until that crass mouth of yours would make a reappearance,” she hummed, releasing the one nipple to turn her attentions to the other, “I was beginning to think that all of that time in your mind had somehow led to a change in you.” 

“I’m sorry to disappoint,” you murmured, though the conviction in your words was lost to another moan as Farah pinched the other nipple and pulled lightly. 

“Not at all, darling. I’ve rather missed teaching that pretty mouth of yours to behave itself.” 

Smirking up at her, you watched as Farah’s eyes darkened, her lips delicately parted in a way that made you ache to taste them against your own once more. The power that her position above you created for her had you practically shuddering with anticipation and, wanting to rile her further, you shifted the hand that had been teasing at her cunt lightly, dragging your fingers up to her clit and tracing slow circles over it. 

“And how exactly do you plan on achieving such a goal?” you asked, your features the picture of innocence as you continued your ministrations. You watched as Farah’s eyes flashed and in a moment your hands were being pulled from her and pinned above your head. 

“Such a brat this morning.” The words were purred against your neck as Farah nipped at the spot of flesh beneath your ear, gently laving her tongue over the spot that she had bitten afterwards to take some of the sting from it. “Let’s think, shall we darling: what better use could there be for such a misbehaving tongue?” 

Hazel eyes met your own just as the rich warmth paled to luminous blue and all at once your mind was filled with a series of delicious images: Farah stood above you, one foot on either side of your face as she lowered herself towards you; your tongue buried deep within her as she fucked herself on your face, teasing you with a single finger as you squirmed beneath her, already desperately worked up; Farah denying you again and again whilst you brought her to multiple climaxes until you couldn’t hold off any longer, pushed into an orgasm so intense that your entire body quivered from the aftershocks. You could feel your heart racing in your chest as your vision came back to you and you became aware of a growing dampness between your thighs. Finding yourself gazing up into loving hazel depths once more you were relieved as Farah lowered her lips to your own, kissing you possessively but still with the love you always felt behind her kisses. 

“I trust you would have no objections, my love,” Farah murmured. Her words were phrased as a statement, but you understood the question hidden within them - she wanted your consent, asking as she had so many times before when you had been young and desperately aroused just at the sight of one another. The force with which you shook your head drew a low chuckle from Farah as she brushed her nose to yours. “Such a good girl. Does my good girl remember our safe word?” 

You grimaced slightly at that particular memory. “Storm” you murmured - because who could possibly continue to find themselves aroused with connotations of Rosalind Hale in their mind? 

Sensing your unease, Farah allowed the teasing tone to drop from her voice momentarily, one of her hands coming to cup your cheek as she assured you: “we can change it…” 

“No. It fits its purpose.” 

A single nod from Farah communicated her understanding and you watched as the softness of her expression shifted once more and she smirked. The warm hand that had been at your cheek moments ago slipped away and Farah pulled herself up the bed until the view that you had seen in your mind had materialised itself into actuality and Farah was hovering above you, kneeling at either side of your face as one of her hands carded through your hair. 

“Let’s see if that tongue can live up to my expectations then, hm?” 

You didn’t have to be asked twice. Your arms came to wrap around Farah’s thighs as she lowered herself further to you, pulling her firmly against your lips as your tongue took one long swipe through her folds. The fingers in your hair gripped into a fist and Farah let out a shuddering sigh, her head dropping back as her eyes slipped shut. Eagerly you delved deeper, lick after lick, your attentions growing in precision and persistence until Farah’s thighs were shaking around you. 

“Such a good girl,” she repeated for the hundredth time though now her voice was strained, her hips rocking forwards as you sealed your mouth over her clit, sucking hard before dragging your tongue over it. Farah moaned deeply, her hips stuttering in their rocking. “So good for me… so close.” The last words were breathy and high pitched, desperation almost palpable in her tone. 

You knew how close she was now, her chest heaving and her words beginning to devolve into babbling in her need. Sensing an opportunity, you freed one hand from around Farah’s thigh, moving two fingers to her entrance, and with little warning you pressed into her and curled your fingers against her inner walls in one fluid motion. At the sensation Farah moaned so loudly that it shocked you into pausing, your eyes flicking up to see her tensed above you, just on the precipice of ecstasy. 

A knock at the door broke the moment and, before either of you could move, the door swung open to reveal a ruffled looking Bloom with an expression of concern painted over her face. “Moms? Is everything… Oh my God!” As her gaze came to rest on the scene before her, Bloom’s eyes widened in horror and immediately her hands came up to cover her face, just a hint of the bright red of her cheeks visible as she tried to cover her vision as best she could. “I am so sorry… I’ll just…” She couldn’t get out of the room quickly enough and, in a moment, the door had closed again and you were left alone once more. 

Silence. For a moment neither of you moved, both stunned into motionlessness. Then, all at once, you both broke out into mildly horrified laughter, Farah shifting from where she was still perched over your face to sit by your side, her own face still flushed as she dropped it into her hands. 

“We may just have scarred our daughter for the rest of her life,” she lamented, her words muffled a little by her hands. 

“I completely forgot that she was here,” you admitted, pushing yourself up until you were sitting as embarrassment washed over you. 

Farah only groaned in response, removing her hands from her face just long enough to drop her head to your shoulder and hide herself once more in your neck. “We can’t be the first parents to ever be caught in the act by their child,” she reasoned. Your hand came to rest at the back of her head as she spoke, fingers threading through her hair as you tried to comfort her. 

“I wouldn’t have thought so, but I do believe most have the experience when their child is still too young to truly understand what they’ve seen…” 

Again, laughter bubbled up within you both before slowly it died out and the room fell to silence again. Your fingers continued their slow petting of Farah’s hair for a moment. Sighing, you turned to press a kiss to her head. 

“Did you at least get to finish?” you asked, hesitantly - a part of you unsure if you wanted the question answered. 

Pulling back from you Farah shook her head, a tense sigh issuing from her. “No… no I didn’t.” 

You let out a sympathetic hum in response, leaning over to press a gentle kiss to her lips. “I’m sorry, love,” you murmured. 

“Don’t be. I don’t think I would ever recover from the mortification of climaxing in front of my own child.” Though her expression was haunted, you had to stifle a laugh at her words, your fingers pressing to your lips as you fought to keep your expression sympathetic. “I’m glad you’re amused darling,” Farah bit out half-heartedly and, managing to reign in your laughter, you lay another kiss on her cheek as you shifted to climb from the bed. 

“Why don’t you take a moment - collect yourself… I’ll go and check on Bloom.” 

Though the prospect of facing your daughter was daunting after what she had just witnessed, you knew that you were in a better place to do so than Farah. Quickly, you slipped into the bathroom, washing your hands and face before checking your reflection in the mirror. Thankfully it only took a moment of running your fingers through your hair before you were content enough with your appearance; then you pulled on a robe and slipped from the room, steeling yourself for the conversation that was to come. 

-

It took a bit of looking to find Bloom; she wasn’t in the guest room, the living room or the kitchen and it wasn’t until you thought to look outside that you finally found her. At the far end of the garden Bloom had situated herself on the swinging seat that overlooked the countryside, her eyes fixed dead ahead as she stared blankly over the rolling hills and fields that lay beyond the boundary of your property. Her expression appeared somewhere between mortified and upset and the sight caused guilt to settle in your stomach, thick and heavy, a sensation that made you almost feel sick. 

You were careful to approach slowly so as not to startle her, coming up from her left with gentle movements until you paused a few feet away. “Hey,” you greeted hesitantly. Despite being clearly placed in Bloom’s periphery, you still saw her jump slightly at the sound of your voice, her eyes flicking over to you before she hastily pulled herself from her seat. 

“Mom… God, I am so sorry for interrupting like that!” As she spoke, Bloom’s fingers fidgeted before her and she seemed to be struggling to meet your eye. “Really that was so rude of me. I know I knocked but I didn’t even wait for a response… I just heard a sound like one of you was hurt and…” Her voice trailed off slowly and a deep blush settled in her cheeks once more. Bloom’s eyes ran over you, taking in your still only vaguely covered state of undress, before she looked away again, shaking her head. You almost wanted to laugh, though you sensed that it wouldn’t help much with the myriad of feelings that Bloom must have been going through in that moment. 

“It’s alright sweetheart,” you assured her softly. “No harm done. Your mum and I… Well, that’s not exactly the first time that we’ve had someone walk in on us,” you admitted, laughing softly. “We just want to know that you’re okay.” Slowly, you stepped forwards, your hand coming to rest on Bloom’s arm as you guided her to sit back down, slipping into the seat next to her. “Do you want to talk about it?” 

As you watched, Bloom’s facial expressions seemed to traverse a number of different emotions: panic, discomfort, shame. You noted that at no point did you see disgust written along her features, surprise filling you as you had expected a much stronger reaction from a child having walked in on her parents mid-coitus. Still, you knew that this wouldn’t be an easy conversation were it one that Bloom wanted to have. 

“Not really,” Bloom admitted. “I know it shouldn’t be that big of a deal - couples have sex, I get it, I’m not a kid. It’s just that…” 

“We’re your parents, and that makes it a little weird for you,” you finished for her, knowingly. “I understand that.” A pause stretched between you and for a moment you thought about letting the conversation die there, but there was something more that you wanted to say. It didn’t sit right with you, to leave Bloom seemingly so ashamed about her feelings on the matter. You needed to be just a little more open, if only for the sake of your own sanity. “I get that you don’t want a full blown discussion about this, but you know that sex is nothing to be ashamed about, right?” 

Beside you, you felt Bloom tense slightly, her head dropping into her hands as Farah’s had not too long ago. “You… you don’t have to do this mom. I had the whole sex talk years ago… I’m good.” 

“I’m sure, darling, it’s just that some people tend to have a different approach to that particular talk, skirting around the topic and what-not. If you want to talk more openly about anything…” 

“Yeah, okay, got it.” This time you did laugh, your hand coming to pat Bloom’s back as you stood up. She was still young, but you felt better knowing that in time, she would know she could talk to you should she want to. 

“Alright then,” you murmured, glancing back at the house. “I think I may make a start on breakfast, if you’re interested?” 

Relief washed over Bloom’s face at the change in topic and she nodded her head slightly in response. “Sure, I’ll be there in a minute.” You turned to head back towards the house, but before you could get too far, the sound of the girl’s voice stopped you again and, glancing back, you caught blue eyes finally focused on your own. “Hey mom… it may be weird for me, but it’s still kind of nice to know that you two still love each other so much… even after everything.”

Chuckling softly, you nodded your head, a light blush colouring your cheeks now. “If there’s one thing that isn’t lacking in my relationship with your mother, it’s love,” you agreed. As you studied your daughter, your hand came up to her cheek, brushing over the delicate skin there lightly. “You’re living proof of that.” The words were murmured absently, your mind wondering, as it often did, at just how Bloom had come to be from love alone. Then, without another word, you pressed a light kiss to Bloom’s forehead before turning and heading back to the house. 

-

The end of term ball was one of Alfea’s proudest traditions, one that had remained a key date in the school calendar for decades. With the end of the year approaching, Farah had spent the past few weeks organising every little detail, from deciding the colours of the tablecloths to selecting the live band that would be playing throughout the evening. Despite the variety of other tasks still on her plate, you knew that this was one that had been particularly important to her. It had consumed so much of her time that some days you had barely seen her at all and now, despite it being a Sunday, she had pulled you over to the school in order to put the final steps of organising the ball into action.

Stretching your arms over your head, you stared at the tall stack of thick envelopes before you. The invitations were to be sent out first thing in the morning and so you had spent much of your afternoon addressing envelopes until your elbow felt as though it were going to lock into place and your fingers hurt from the pen you had been holding. Had anyone else asked for you to complete such a task you were certain you would have laughed at the notion; for Farah though, there was no question - you would do anything she asked so long as it would take some of the burden from her shoulders. 

Surveying your work you sighed, leaning back as you allowed your mind to wander. You had fond memories of the end of term ball from your time as a student - most including Farah and almost all involving the two of you getting into some sort of trouble. You had to suppress a giggle at the thought of the mischief you had gotten up to together, wondering if this year’s ball would evoke such bad behaviour from the students now in your charge.

This time around, you knew that both you and Farah had to be on your best behaviour. Not only were you adults now, setting an example for the students at the school, but with Farah being Headmistress and you a teacher you really couldn’t misbehave in the slightest. You would have been lying were you to say that such a prospect wasn’t a disappointment, but you were sure that the ball would still be an enjoyable evening regardless. 

In truth, you felt a rush of butterflies in your stomach at the prospect of the ball. It was a chance for you to dress up for a change and to shed the image of the dedicated warrior that it was necessary for you to project around the school. Farah always looked immaculate, but you normally walked around the school grounds in a specialist uniform and it often felt that a large proportion of your identity was hidden behind your mask simply in the attire you were required to wear.

Pulling yourself from your musings, you glanced over to Farah who sat serenely behind her desk, a pen in her hand as she scribbled away on the page before her. She appeared engrossed in whatever it was that she was writing and didn’t seem to notice that you were watching her. You were always fond of opportunities like this, moments when you could truly study Farah as she carried out some mundane task, and so you let your eyes travel over her form, the woman herself none the wiser. A strand of dark blonde hair had escaped the delicately braided bun that you had watched Farah crafting early that morning and as you observed the way it hung just so over her eyes you wanted so badly to reach out and twirl it around your finger, revelling in the softness of it. The form-fitted grey dress that Farah wore was causing your thoughts to wander, images of it falling down onto the floor and exposing her soft skin settling in your mind. It seemed that you were even more attracted to her now than you had been when you had first started dating. 

As you watched Farah, your mind slipped back to the fresh memory of your morning tryst that had ended so abruptly. Images started forming in your mind in a way that caused a surge of heat to rise rapidly within you and, impetuous as always, you rose from your seat, approaching Farah’s desk silently with the intent of making up for the moment that had been lost to you earlier in the day. 

As you came to a halt by Farah’s side, her gaze lifted to meet yours curiously. “Everything okay, love?” she asked softly. You only smiled in return. 

Without uttering a word you lifted her hand, stroking the inside of her wrist with a gentle thumb as you carefully extracted the pen from her grasp. Farah raised an eyebrow at you in question, though when you looked at her once more there was something in her eyes telling you that she was beginning to sense what you wanted. The silence between you seemed to stretch endlessly, the air growing heavy with want. 

Farah gradually pushed back her chair to allow you space to perch on the desk. You held her gaze, your lips tugging into a small smile before leaning down to place a languid kiss to her lips and letting your hands tangle into her hair. You pulled her bottom lip between your teeth before releasing, noticing the quickening pace of Farah’s breath, her own hands reaching out, finding rest against your thighs. With purpose, your hands travelled from her hair to her cheeks, thumbs brushing over her exposed collarbones and then down over her breasts. Her breath hitched as you gripped her hips and her hands dropped back to her sides as you lowered yourself onto your knees before her, looking intently up at her. 

“Is this alright?” you asked, making sure you weren’t doing something she wasn’t comfortable with; it had been a long time since you had last crossed the line from private into semi-public rendezvous and with all that had changed you wanted to be certain.

Farah swallowed hard, her response coming in a hoarse whisper: “Yes.” You could practically hear the need in her voice, all too aware of how close she had been to release that morning when the moment had been swept out from beneath you. 

Making yourself comfortable, you pulled Farah’s chair slightly closer to you to gain better access. You smiled up at her before gently trailing your hands up the length of her thighs, hiking up the skirt of her dress and exposing black lace panties soaked with arousal. “Oh,” you breathed, your tone hanging somewhere between being concerned and impressed. You could only imagine how Farah’s body had been coping since her denial that morning, but if the sight before you was anything to go by, she had been wanting this for some hours now. “I’ve got you, darling.” Your voice was a whisper in her mind as you placed a kiss directly over the sodden lace, the scent of her making your head spin deliciously. Farah could only sigh at the contact.

Hooking your fingers around the waistband of her underwear you pulled them down with increased urgency, the sound of Farah’s breaths filling the silence of the room as she lifted her hips to help you. Her legs parted further as you let your tongue travel over the length of her slit; at the taste of her, arousal coiled in your stomach and you hummed your approval against her. Your tongue swirled around her clit and she dug her short nails into your scalp, letting out a deep moan. Getting lost in your ministrations as you sucked hungrily at Farah’s clit, you barely registered the knock at the door. 

“Really?!” Farah groaned in exasperation above you, sounding as though she may kill whoever had instigated the interruption were they not to disappear very quickly.

Her knees clamped rather forcefully around your head at the sound of the door and you pulled away abruptly, your hands gripping her thighs and parting them slightly to ensure that you wouldn’t be smothered down there. You felt immensely grateful for the design of Farah’s desk at that moment, the wooden panel at the front hiding you from view. Who could possibly be here to interrupt us on a Sunday? No sooner had the question crossed your mind than it was answered as a familiar voice rang out into the silence of the room.

“Hello Farah, sorry to disturb…” Ben halted mid-sentence, not having waited for a response before entering Farah’s office. “Are you quite alright? You seem a little flushed; a fever coming on perhaps?”

“I’m fine.” Farah’s voice was unusually curt, her frustration at being interrupted again clear to you, though you were sure it would pass Ben by entirely. You found yourself biting your lip to suppress a giggle at the thought. 

At the short silence that followed it seemed Ben was surprised by her tone, but before he could second guess himself he hurried on: “I know it’s the weekend but I had a feeling  you would still be working. I just came by to ask about the invitations to the end of term ball. I’d like to make sure other members of the family are going to get them in time.” A hint of pride laced his voice, as though this ball was among the most revered within the Other World and would bring honour upon Ben himself simply through association.

Farah cleared her throat, a hand coming to rest on your cheek as you grew bold, placing a kiss against her inner thigh. “They’ll be sent out in the morning,” she responded shortly. You had a feeling that her tone this time was meant more as a warning to you than Ben. 

“Alright, perfect. I’ll see you tomorrow then.”

You were relieved to hear his receding footsteps a moment later, even more so as the tension in Farah’s thighs seemed to ease. She relaxed back into her chair and you peered up from the spot between her legs, bursting into laughter as you rested your forehead against her thigh. “Thank god for his innocence.” You managed between laughs. “If that had been Saul we would have been done for!” Farah joined you in your laughter though you noticed the tension behind the sound. 

“Poor Farah,” you hummed softly as your laughter subsided. “It’s as though the universe doesn’t want you to come: first last night, then this morning, now this...” As you spoke, a teasing tone crept into your voice and you placed a kiss where your head had rested against Farah’s inner thigh. 

“Still such a brat,” Farah mused, her fingers at your cheek turning your head back to the apex of her thighs. 

“Is that any way to speak to the woman with the power to keep you on edge for as long as she pleases?” Your voice spoke of innocence though laced with a light threat, your breath directed purposefully to fan over her centre. Farah’s jaw tensed, clearly trying not to respond to the feeling. 

“Don’t you dare,” she warned, her voice slipping into the familiar tone of the headmistress. You felt yourself shudder at the sound. 

Pulling yourself together and smirking, you leant closer, licking slowly up the length of her slit once more, humming contentedly at the taste of her on your tongue, still so wet and ready. “I’ll clean up the mess I’ve made then, shall I?” You asked, pulling back and licking your lips.

Farah’s eyebrows shot up momentarily, a look of mischief dancing in her eyes. “Hm, I think you’d better.”

Not needing to be told twice, you dove back into her with aplomb, your hands gripping her thighs as you sucked her clit into your mouth, laving your tongue over it. Farah’s head dropped back against the backrest of her chair, her lips parted in a silent sigh and pure pleasure written across her features. You were slow to work her back up, pausing every time that her hips began to roll towards you until Farah would whine in protest and you would set to work again, your tongue lavishing her with your attentions from her clit to her entrance. 

On and on you went, bringing her just to the edge, until finally Farah had had enough. Just as you were about to retreat for the third time you felt strong fingers fisting in your hair as Farah held you to her cunt, a moan drawn from you as her hips began to roll, pleasuring herself against your tongue. 

“Such a pretty little brat, but if you do insist on misbehaving…” Farah’s words were cut off as you sealed your mouth over her clit, sucking as you shifted two fingers to her entrance and immediately thrust into her up to your knuckle. You knew that it was a move reminiscent of the one that had got you caught that morning, but still you felt the wetness flooding between your own thighs as Farah moaned loudly, her hips stuttering in their movements and her walls fluttering around you. 

“You were saying?” you asked, a knowing grin pulling at your lips as you thrust your fingers within her, curling them just so until Farah was practically quivering in your grasp. 

“Don’t stop,” she whined, drawing a chuckle from you as you leant in to circle her clit with your tongue: once, twice, three times. 

“You’re so desperate, aren’t you sweetheart?” Farah only whined, her hips bucking up as you pressed a third finger into her. You knew the answer without her having to voice it - how could she not be after all of the interruptions. “I want you to come for me Farah,” you whispered, pressing a kiss to her hip as your thumb came up to rub her clit in time with your thrusts. 

It only took a few strokes more before Farah’s whole body tensed, a string of expletives whispered to the room as she shook through her orgasm, arousal spilling from her as you had never seen before. So enraptured by the sight were you that all you could think was how badly you wanted to give her that pleasure again and so, leaning in, you reapplied your mouth to her clit once more, licking and sucking until Farah slipped right from her first climax into a second, this time her walls clamping around your fingers like a vice so that your thrusts were dulled to a rocking motion. 

“Storm…” Farah choked out as you pressed a kiss to her clit and instantly you pulled back from her, stilling your fingers within her as you glanced up at her in concern. It was rare that either of you used your safe word and to hear it uttered by Farah was always a shock. As your gaze landed on her, however, you were pleased to find an expression of pure bliss still painted across her face, her eyes pressed closed as she shook through the aftershocks still coursing through her body. 

“Are you alright, my love?” you murmured. You pressed a gentle kiss to her hip then her stomach, smiling as Farah’s eyes finally blinked open slowly to meet your own. 

“Never better,” came the response, “though for a moment there I thought I had died and slipped into another realm.” You laughed softly at that, your fingers still within her shifting slightly at the motion and you felt as Farah’s walls clamped around them once more as another aftershock rolled through her, a soft whine escaping her lips. 

“Sorry,” you chuckled softly, a look of sympathy turned up to her. “May I…?” 

“Gently,” Farah warned and, as instructed, you slipped your fingers from her slowly, noting the soft groan that she let out at the emptiness left behind as you removed yourself from her. 

Smirking to yourself, you lifted your fingers to your lips, catching Farah’s eye as you slipped them into your mouth and sucked them clean. Despite the fatigue in her eyes, you still saw her gaze darken at the sight and, wanting to get a reaction, you purposefully let out an indecent moan, pulling the fingers from your mouth with a gentle pop. 

“Delicious,” you commented. Farah only hummed, reaching out for you and pulling you up until you were leant over her in her chair. 

A searing kiss was stolen from you then, one that had your cunt pulsing with need, and as she pulled back Farah whispered against your lips. “Give me a minute to recover, then I plan on absolutely destroying you darling.” 

Promises, promises you thought.  

-

Facing the mirror you smoothed the front of your dress, finally pleased with the reflection staring back at you. The silk fabric of the dress clung to your body in swathes of a rich green shade, thin straps laying delicately against your bare skin. Auburn waves cascades past your shoulders; you’d styled it carefully for the occasion with one or two curls pinned back for effect - it was nothing compared to Farah’s masterful styling skills, but you knew better than anyone that there was no competition when it came to your love and her hair. Finishing off your look, you’d chosen black stiletto heels and the thin gold necklace that Farah had given to you a short while back. With a final look in the mirror, you turned and made your way downstairs where Farah was waiting. A rush of excitement washed over you, having wanted to keep your outfit a surprise for her until this very moment.

As soon as you stood at the top of the stairs Farah’s gaze affixed itself to you, a look of wonder in her eyes as she bit her lower lip. “Wow…” she murmured, her line of sight traversing the length of your body. You felt your cheeks grow warm under her gaze. 

Finally reaching the bottom of the stairs, you took Farah in with equal wonder, swallowing hard at the lump that had formed in your throat at the outfit that she had chosen.  Farah wore black cropped trousers that skimmed the shape of her legs beautifully and a white blouse in a soft translucent fabric upon which you couldn’t help but let your eyes linger. The blouse was tucked loosely into her trousers and had a loose tie at the neck that hung down before her, creating an illusion of effortlessness that somehow only drew you to her all the more. Finally, your eyes fell onto her pointed stilettos with leopard print - it was easy to imagine her wearing those and nothing else, and it made your throat grow dry. Taking both of her hands in your own, Farah’s gaze moved slowly up to meet yours. “You look amazing,” you whispered before placing one hand on her hip and giving her a gentle push, making her twirl before you.

“Like what you see?” Farah smirked, wiggling her eyebrows at you as she caught sight of the hunger with which you regarded her - she knew all too well the effect she had on you.

You reached out and pulled at the loosely tied neck of her blouse, using it to guide her towards you and, as Farah leaned in to place a kiss on your lips, you drew away playfully just before she could make contact. “I can’t smudge my lipstick.” You winked mischievously at the raised eyebrow that was turned on you. 

“Perhaps it’s for the best, we can’t risk being late.” She mused, though you sensed that she was trying to convince herself more than she was you. Turning towards the door she added, “really, I’m not sure if I could’ve stopped myself.”

The statement caused a jolt of heat in you – images of Farah fucking you right then and there springing to mind and it was almost enough to make you regret denying her. Taking a steading breath you followed Farah out of the door and you knew the hours ahead would be a challenge.

-

Entering the grounds of Alfea, you walked arm in arm with your love and glanced around to see the many people milling about, chatting to one another and snapping pictures. A few of them looked up to meet your gaze, nodding in greeting as you passed: students, colleagues and even a few people that you couldn’t recall ever meeting. 

Glancing over at Farah you could see that she was completely at ease with being at the centre of attention and, as you moved through the crowds, she seemed to command the room with her presence alone. It was incredibly attractive the way onlookers would nod to her in a show of respect or move from her path on instinct - even more so that Farah held such power without once seeming to think that it was owed to her in any way. Before your thoughts could start wandering you quickly re-focussed your attention on the people around you - you had to behave, you reminded yourself - the thought leaving a bitter taste in your mouth as you mourned the loss of your youthful antics.

As you rounded the corner to the assembly hall, your eyes fell on the wall to the left, adorned with flowers from top to bottom. A red carpet was laid out in front and a group of students you recognised from your class stood posing for the camera.

“There’s a red carpet?” You asked incredulously, a smile tugging at your lips.

Farah turned slightly towards you, meeting your gaze. “This is the first ball without the looming threat of Rosalind for some time,” she looked over at the students, a touch of pride shining in her eyes, “I figured we might as well celebrate it.”

You hummed your agreement as the two of you moved towards the crowd of students posing on the red carpet. One of them caught your eye, his own eyes widening in surprise as recognition slipped over his features. “Wow, teach,” he exclaimed as his gaze passed over you once more. “You brush up well!”

Chuckling at his look of utter disbelief, you grinned at him, rolling your eyes. “I’m more than just a Specialist you know.” Pausing for a moment you shook your head, your grin settling into a genuine smile. “You look rather dashing yourself, Connor. Enjoy your evening.” With a nod towards Farah, he quickly turned and joined his friends once more.

“It’s nice getting to show you off like this.” Farah whispered beneath her breath, slipping her hand down your waist and giving your hip a quick squeeze. A delightful fluttering feeling sprung up within your stomach and you lay a gentle hand over Farah’s, guiding her touch back up to a more appropriate area for the current setting in which you found yourselves. 

“Behave…” You warned, smiling as another group of students passed.

“Hey moms!” Bloom’s voice caught your attention in the cacophony of sound that surrounded you and you felt a rush of warmth swell in your chest.

At once, Farah took half a step away from you, as though not wishing to make Bloom feel uncomfortable. Letting out a chuckle at her reaction, you smiled warmly at Bloom as she approached. “Hello sweetheart.” Studying her carefully you took in her appearance; she wore a marine-coloured dress that reached all the way to her ankles, and you found it suited her well. “You look lovely.”

Bloom grinned at you before giving Farah a confused look, eyeing the space between you. “What’s going-” realisation seemed to hit her before she could even finish her sentence and she snorted, fixing Farah with an amused look. “Really mom, it’s not like I can’t see you being affectionate. I mean, good for you, you know - still having sex at your age and all.” At that point she smirked, clearly trying to get a rise out of Farah. “I just don’t need to know that about my parents.”

You felt a rush of pride within you but you realised that this was perhaps not the time nor the place. Before you could speak however, Farah cleared her throat. She looked unaffected by the comment, no doubt drawing the mask of the Headmistress across her features to keep from giving in to Bloom’s bait. “Where’s Sky? Why don’t you bring him over for a proper introduction?”

Momentarily Bloom looked mortified and her cheeks blushed profusely. “Uhm, sure… ok.” She turned on her heel in search of her boyfriend, finding her way amongst the increasing crowd of people that was now humming around you. 

Once Bloom was out of sight you turned to Farah, smacking her shoulder lightly. “That was cruel, Farah.” You shot her a disapproving look and shifted your gaze away from her in search of Bloom.

“I know,” Farah responded, her voice low and a look of shame flashed across her eyes, “I’ll speak to her later.”

Sensing her feelings of insecurity, you immediately felt your heart constrict at the look in her eyes. “Love, it’s alright. I’m just glad she was comfortable enough to mention it to us. When we were her age, the mere notion of mentioning anything related to sex to our parents was unthinkable. It has to be different for her.” You hadn’t intended on giving such a speech, but the words had left your mouth before you could stop yourself.

Farah took a step closer, and to your surprise she pressed a soft kiss on your lips, not caring who was watching. You sighed softly as she pulled away, looking up into her eyes. “I know you’re right, darling. I want that for our daughter too, but it doesn’t mean that I find it easy.” She let out a sigh of her own but remained close.

Slipping your hands from her shoulders down her arms, you gave her hands a reassuring squeeze. “We’re in this together.” Leaning closer, you placed a chaste kiss on her lips.

At the sound of someone clearing their throat, you practically jumped apart and saw none other than Queen Luna appraising you, her arms crossed and a disapproving look flashing in her eyes. Uttering your name in greeting she smiled at you briefly, but it seemed like hard work. Her gaze didn’t linger on you for long and she let her eyes travel over to Farah, the attempt at warmth that had been turned on you softening into something more easy as she took in the headmistress. “Farah,” she gave her a wide smile and you noticed immediately that it was genuine, “lovely to see you.”

You had to resist the urge to roll your eyes. When you had first started dating, Farah had told you of her brief relationship with Luna. It had been short lived, with very little actual emotion on Farah’s part, and they were young, but Luna had a tendency to grow possessive and it seemed even now that the Queen still held some sort of flame for her former lover. Though you didn’t know her well, you could tell from Luna’s relationship with her daughter that the woman was complicated. It was Farah who decided to end things and had said it felt freeing to be away from her – only a year later she had met you.

Watching Luna’s attention fixed on Farah, you were certain that, despite her own relationships after the fact, the Queen hadn’t quite managed to let Farah go, even after all these years. Whilst you knew being jealous was both irrational and unnecessary, a sense of unease settled in your stomach at the look in Luna’s eyes. Suddenly, the Queen turned her attention to you, and you realised you hadn’t listened to the conversation at all. “Excuse me?”

“How are you settling in? How is teaching going?” The way her voice sounded almost condescending made you struggle in resisting the urge to hit her.

You gave Luna an equally strained smile as you considered your response. “I’m settling back in well, thank you. The students seem pleased with our teaching.” Emphasising the word “our” seemed to have the desired effect and you watched as the Queen’s expression faltered for only a moment.

The woman recovered quickly. “Well, I should get on.” She pushed between you without another word and you felt a flash of anger rise within you. At the feeling of Farah’s comforting hand on your lower back, however, your tension eased immediately. “She hasn’t changed.” You murmured.

Farah let out a chuckle, “No, she has not.” She lowered her voice then, seeming to sense your unease. “You’re the only one for me,” she reassured you.

It was as though you could feel her love spread across your chest and you felt as though you could face Queen Luna a hundred times more. Giving Farah an appreciative smile, you leaned in to kiss her cheek, chuckling slightly as you rubbed the light lipstick mark that you had left in your wake away. “I’ll be back in a moment, I need to fix the mess that you’ve made of my carefully applied lipstick.”

You returned only a moment or so later, snapping your purse closed as your eyes found Farah in the crowd. Noticing a girl with hair just like yours by her side, you grinned as you approached them. “Hi,” you greeted, shifting your gaze towards the tall boy standing next to Bloom. “Hello, Sky.”

“Hello,” he said, his eyes moving from you to Farah. “You both look lovely this evening.” Bloom clung to his arm, adoration in her eyes, and you felt a sense of ease at seeing her so comfortable and safe with Sky.

Farah chuckled beside you. “You’re very kind, Sky.”

Before any of you could engage in further conversation, you felt yourself being swept off your feet and lifted into the air. You didn’t need to see who it was to recognise the strong muscular arms around your waist. “Put me down at once, Saul!” As he lowered you to the ground, chuckling all the while, you punched his shoulder hard. “We’re supposed to be setting an example here, not inspiring them into misbehaviour!”

“Ouch,” Saul said mockingly, rubbing his shoulder. “Oh, come on. Like we didn’t do worse when we were their age.”

“Stop talking.” You said, completely deadpan. The last thing you needed was Saul spilling the beans on your student days – there ought to be some privacy from your daughter.

Farah stood with her arms crossed and arched an eyebrow, though amusement sparkled in her eyes. “Yes, Headmaster Silva, I think you’d better stop.”

Ben came into view then, clapping his hand on Saul’s shoulder. “Bothering these lovely ladies, are you?”

You snorted at his comment - always impeccable timing.

“Well, they’re taking photographs, come on.” Ben stated as though that explained everything. When no one moved, he let out an exasperated sigh. “Come on, people!” He waved enthusiastically towards the red carpet and neither you nor Farah could see a chance of escape. Saul too seemed reluctant, dragging his feet away first as he followed Ben at a slow pace.

Before starting to follow, you turned to Bloom and Sky, a light smile pulling at your lips. “Bloom, why don’t you bring Sky to the house for dinner sometime? Perhaps it’ll give us a chance to get to know each other a little better.”

The pair exchanged glances and Bloom smiled. “That’d be nice.”

Reaching out to squeeze her upper arm, you returned her smile. “Perfect. See you later then.”

When you turned away from them, you found Farah had already gone and was standing just by the start of the red carpet waiting for you. As you approached her, you suddenly remembered the additional reason that you’d excused yourself earlier and you felt a rush of excitement thrumming through your veins. Drawing to a halt next to her, you opened your purse and slipped your hand inside, hiding the soft item in the fist of your hand. Leaning close to Farah, you discretely slipped your hand into her pocket and stuffed your panties into its depths. You drew away from her and stepped past her towards the red carpet where your friends stood waiting. Pausing, you turned to watch her as Farah slipped her own hand into the pocket of her trousers. It seemed her hand made contact with the soft fabric left there, for her eyes widened momentarily in realisation and her gaze shot to meet yours.

Grinning, you waited until she approached - now the two of you were only a step away from Ben and Saul. Farah smiled as she leaned in close to your ear and you recognised the guise of the Headmistress veiled across her features, though her voice didn’t mirror it. “Naughty girl.” She whispered and it caused you to take a shuddering breath.

Stepping next to Saul, Farah positioned herself at your other side and the four of you smiled as though you were movie stars. Had the past minute been different, you might have felt excited at the notion of standing there, smiling at the flashes of the cameras as though transported to another life. The only thought in your mind, however, was that of Farah’s reaction at realising what you had left in her pocket. You felt acutely aware of your own body as the four of you stood huddled together, especially now that Farah’s hand was on your waist but slowly slipped down to momentarily caress your butt.

You realised that perhaps your little act had backfired, for you knew Farah revelled in the knowledge that you couldn’t react to her teasing and now you had given her the perfect opportunity to do as she pleased for the rest of the evening. 

Chapter Text

Farah’s hand ran across your shoulders as she rose from her chair, giving you a smile before she fixed her attention upon the room at large. The guests had gathered in the atrium and the ball was on the verge of commencing, but there was still the matter of Farah’s speech. She wasn’t nervous about it per-se; Farah was a seasoned speaker and so used to her role at the head of a faculty that giving a speech was like second nature to her. Still, you knew that the opening of the ball was as important to her as the ball itself and so, as she glided elegantly across the floor, making her way to the podium from whence she would give her speech, you were vaguely aware of how your breath seemed to still within your lungs in anticipation.

The whole of the school, along with other invitees, had been ushered into the hall to find their seats before the feast. You were in awe of the room; the ceiling was enchanted to mimic the sky, shades of blue and green creating the illusion that you were outdoors. What seemed to be breezes of fresh air caused a stray curl of yours to ripple slightly and you smiled at the lengths to which Farah had gone to make the evening magical. Even butterflies in vivid colours fluttered in the air, floating on delicate wings above your heads, much to the delight of the attendees around you.  

By the time you had drawn your attention back to the front of the room, Farah had found her place on the platform and the hum of voices fell quiet at once. The Headmistress had a way of commanding the attention of any room she entered and you couldn’t help but stare at her, so beautiful where she stood.

“It’s an honour to wish you all welcome to the Annual Alfean End of Term Ball,” her voice was clear as she spoke, every eye in the room fixed on her as she enthralled her audience. “This year has not been an easy one and our students have proved themselves in ways that have not been required by those who have come before them in recent years. Tonight is an opportunity for us to celebrate our school and the wonderful talent of our students. Now, we will feast and form connections for the future which I hope will allow our students to prepare themselves for the life that awaits them outside of our walls. Later we will revel in the achievements that have been made throughout the course of the year and I hope you will all join me in wishing our soon-to-be graduates well for their future endeavours.” Ripples of applause filled the air as she finished and Farah returned to her place next to you, kissing your cheek as she sat down.  

Beneath the table, you squeezed her thigh: “Short and sweet, love - good job.”

“I rarely have much to say when it comes to these events,” Farah mused, “but I do try my best to say something of substance.” 

Around you, the prepared feast that had been planned was being brought out by a swarm of servers: platters laden with a multitude of different meats; large bowls of vegetables and potatoes; dishes of fish garnished to perfection; bottle after bottle of a variety of alcohols. You barely saw any of it, your attention still fixed on your love as she scanned the room, ensuring that everything was running to plan and that her guests were satisfied. Her eyes were flitting around anxiously and you squeezed her thigh again softly. 

“Everything is just fine, sweetheart,” you leant in close, purring softly into her ear. You could sense a slight tension in her now that everyone was settled and the meal had begun - you had no intention of allowing such tension to remain for very long. “You can relax now.” 

As you spoke, you allowed your hand to slip slightly higher on her thigh. Almost instantly you felt the muscles beneath your touch tensing, hearing Farah’s breath catch in her throat. Hazel eyes turned on you and you painted an innocent smile across your lips, watching as the warm depths shone blue for a moment. You could feel Farah’s magic pressing gently to your mind, requesting permission wordlessly. You granted her to do as she wished, intrigued as you heard only the whisper of her voice in your mind. 

“Will you help me to relax, my love?” An eager nod of your head had Farah’s lips curling up into a satisfied smile. “That’s my good girl. Keep your mind open to me, won’t you? I have plans.” 

With the words left in your mind and a kiss ghosted against the corner of your lips, Farah turned away and began serving food to you. You could only wonder at the plans that your love had in place. 

-

The feast was consumed and with one wave of Farah’s arm the assembly hall was completely cleared of tables, a group of musicians entering the room and setting up in the far corner. Magic never ceased to amaze you, even after all these years, yet you noticed the people around you continuing their conversations as though it were the most normal thing in the world. Soft jazz suddenly drowned the buzz of conversation, changing the atmosphere of the room almost at once. The light seemed to dim and couples entered the centre of the floor, wrapping themselves up in one another as they began to dance to the music. Amongst them, you spotted Ben walking arm in arm with a woman who looked so much like him that she could only be his sister. Several students followed suit too - Connor leading a pretty girl in the sway of the music with Bloom and Sky dancing together a short distance away.

As you watched, transfixed, you felt Farah’s fingers lacing with yours. Turning your head, you found her gazing into your eyes in a way that made you feel a rush of butterflies in your belly. “May I have this dance?”

You chuckled at the formality of her question, suddenly feeling like a girl being asked onto the dance floor for the very first time. “Of course you may, darling.” You winked at her as she pulled you onto the floor, a soft chuckle on her lips.

There were now so many couples dancing around you that the two of you had merged seamlessly into the crowd. Farah’s hand came to rest on the small of your back, leading you gently to the beat of the music. Your fingers were laced together and it felt as though the rest of the world fell away when you felt the brush of her body against yours as you moved together. All thought disappeared and your only focus was Farah, the loose curls that framed her face tickling your cheeks as you pulled her close to place your forehead against hers. Your eyes fell shut as you pulled Farah’s hand against your chest, holding it there as she led you across the floor.

“Are you enjoying yourself, my love?” You heard the words whispered into your mind and you pulled away slightly to gaze into her sparkling eyes, the lights of the room reflected there. All you could give her in response was a nod, her expression alight with joy at your confirmation. 

Too soon the song came to an end and you placed a chaste kiss to the corner of Farah’s mouth before stepping away from her, positioning yourself at her side as you both stepped back from the dance floor. The band continued playing, taking up the pace to a livelier beat, and people resumed their conversations around the edges of the room as they observed the revelry before them. 

From the corner of your eye you caught sight of a rather severe looking woman wearing a military uniform, her eyes turned on Farah who smiled as she caught the other woman’s eye. “I’ll just be a moment,” Farah told you and in a flash she had shifted from your side and across the floor, taking the severe woman’s hand into her own and shaking it in greeting. As far as you could tell from where you were standing the woman must have been a high-ranking member of the Solarian Army, her dress-uniform lined with medals and other accolades that you only vaguely recognised. Of course Farah would be on good terms with army officials - she really had made quite the name for herself with those in power in the last sixteen years.

Finding yourself alone, your eyes fell onto the bar and you decided to get a drink for Farah and yourself before joining her in conversation. It was important to you that you could act as her partner in all situations and tonight that meant being at her side, laughing at her jokes and engaging in conversation with attendees of the ball. At least, you had assumed that your role would fall in that line, though as you turned from the bar, a glass of champagne in each hand, you felt a stirring within yourself that gave you pause. 

For a moment you stood very still, a slight frown creasing your brow as you attempted to pinpoint the feeling that you had just experienced. It had been brief, a sensation like a hand pressing to your hip, but when you had looked up there had been noone close enough to make contact. Around you the party was still continuing on: Farah still seemingly engrossed in her conversation; Bloom and Sky still on the dancefloor; Ben no doubt boring his family with tales of the school and his work there in some recess or another of the hall. You were just about to write the feeling off as a phantom touch, missing Farah’s closeness as she played at being hostess, when your eyes fell on your love once more just as her own lit up and you felt the touch again, lower on your backside this time. 

“I have plans”  

The words echoed in your mind and suddenly realisation settled over you like a thick blanket. Farah planned to play with you from the other side of the room. She had wanted access to your mind knowing that her skill would allow her to toy with you even from a distance. Just the thought had your heart rate increasing rapidly. 

Another flash of blue coloured Farah’s eyes across the room and your body buckled to her whims, convincing you that her fingers were toying at the slit in the silky material of your dress that reached dangerously up your thigh. You caught Farah’s gaze across the room and couldn’t help but notice the slight darkening in her eyes, though her expression betrayed nothing of the game that she was playing. 

“Bored?” you projected in the direction of Farah’s magic. You knew the answer before her response reached you. The stern woman with whom Farah was conversing seemed to be droning on and on whilst her captive audience had no choice but to nod politely and ask questions on the topic, regardless of actual interest.

“Painfully so, though I recall you agreeing to help me to relax. A distraction from this lecture would be most relaxing.”  

Carefully, you turned back to the bar, setting the glasses that you held aside as you leant into the bar for support. If the look in her eyes was anything to go by, Farah would not be looking for a light distraction from this particular lecture. 

No sooner had you steadied yourself against the bar’s edge than you felt phantom fingers once more, this time creeping up your stomach and coming to rest over your breast. You had to keep yourself from pressing closer into the touch, your teeth sinking into your lower lip as your gaze remained fixed on the mind fairy currently fondling you from across the room. Farah’s eyes flicked back to hazel briefly and when they lit up once more the feeling of fingers was replaced by a mouth, taking your nipple into its warmth and sucking lightly, setting every nerve in your body alight. 

It was strangely arousing to be touched like this, your mind convinced of what was being done to your body though you knew that you were standing alone and fully clothed, by a bar, in the middle of a formal ball. Each time the ghostly mouth reappeared on a different part of your body you had to swallow a sound of pleasure, desperately trying to creep from your throat out into the open. Farah had the mouth pressing kisses over your neck, sucking lightly at your pulsepoint until you were gripping the edge of the bar with a white-knuckled grip. She moved on until you felt the mouth licking and nipping at your inner thighs, an incorporeal breath fanning over your labia that drew an actual shiver of anticipation from you. 

“If only I could truly be about to taste you, my darling,” Farah’s voice whispered in your mind. It was all you could do to keep from whining aloud, trying as hard as you could to keep your outer appearance wrapped in composure. 

“Find an excuse to end that lecture you’re being given and you could be.”  

You saw Farah’s eyes swim in blue light once more and the feeling of a tongue traversing the length of your slit began to materialise between your thighs. Then, suddenly, your waking dream was sent crashing to an abrupt halt as a sharp cough sounded to your right. 

Snapping to attention, your head shot around to find Queen Luna standing at your elbow, a sickeningly sweet smile pulling at her lips as she regarded you with expectant eyes. It was an effort to keep from rolling your own at the intrusion but, knowing that such a public show of disrespect could only end badly with Luna in such a position of power, you contorted your face into a smile, feigning civility. “Your Majesty,” you began, your voice a little hoarse as you coughed to clear your throat, “to what do I owe the pleasure?” 

The way that Luna’s smile tightened at the word ‘pleasure’ made you want to snort with laughter - she knew as well as you that neither of you would take pleasure from any interaction between you. 

“Our conversation earlier this evening was cut so short that I thought it only proper that I seek you out now,” the Queen responded. Gods, her voice was grating - not at all a welcome sound at the present moment. 

You noted that the feeling of Farah’s ghostly tongue had dissipated from your body along with Luna’s arrival and were certain that she must have noticed the Queen’s appearance at your side. With any luck she would have extracted herself from her conversation and would now be on her way over to rescue you from her ex-lover’s snake-like grasp. You couldn’t turn to look, knowing that Luna would sense your motivations were you to do so, but still you sent out a silent plea for support, knowing that Farah wouldn’t willingly leave you alone in this predicament any longer than she had to. 

“I was unaware that you would have so much to discuss with me,” you commented in response to the Queen, an eyebrow raised in her direction, hoping she hadn’t noticed the brief pause in your response. Luna’s smile tightened at your challenging tone, though she refused to let her pleasant facade crack. 

“Well, how often is it that a monarch hears of one of her subjects waking from a sixteen-year-long coma? I trust that you are re-acclimating well?” 

“As well as one can, having lost so much time.” You could feel your expression shifting into one of annoyance and you finally allowed your eyes to wander across the room in search of Farah. As they fell upon the spot where she had been standing you were relieved to find her missing, the stern military woman now deep in conversation with Saul who seemed to have taken charge of things and was now giving an animated retelling of some battle or another in which he had fought. 

“Yes, well, I’m sure it has been very difficult for you. I know for a fact that Farah suffered greatly in your absence. To be abandoned so suddenly by one who supposedly loves you…” 

“I beg your pardon?” You knew that you shouldn’t interrupt her - knew that to lash out in such a public setting would be a mistake - but, with what Luna was implying, you simply couldn’t stop yourself. “What the hell do you mean, ‘supposedly’?” 

That tight smile was pulling at her lips again, a mask of innocence drawn over her features. Luna truly was infuriating in the little games that she would play with people and their emotions. She had always been the same - it was no wonder Farah had ended their dalliance so quickly. 

“I only meant that, for one who claims to love her, you did not fight particularly hard to keep yourself by her side, did you? I mean, really dear, Farah Dowling is a woman who deserves only the best, is she not? Surely you cannot disagree with that?” 

You scoffed at the nerve of such a suggestion. How the hell did she expect you to fight when you had given birth barely an hour before the attack that ended in your incapacitation? Your blood boiled in your veins at the suggestion, your hands balling into fists at your sides. “Oh, and I suppose that by ‘the best’ you mean yourself, do you?” 

Luna drew herself up to her full height then, pride crossing her expression as she looked down upon you. “I would say I was certainly a comfort in your absence - a listening ear and a gentle touch to ease the pain.” 

You knew that she was talking nonsense - Farah had been open enough about how she had coped in your absence for you to be sure of that. Still the thought of Luna using your misfortune to gain herself another opportunity with Farah made you sick. You wanted so badly to hit her but still you held yourself back. 

“How fortunate for Farah to have such an obedient puppy at her beck and call,” you bit out shortly, fighting not to smirk as the smile faded along Luna’s lips. The waning glee in her eyes only spurred you on in your verbal attack. “Of course, it isn’t your name that she’s calling out in the throes of passion, is it Luna? Or did you forget?” you asked, stepping ever so slightly closer and leaning in to whisper so that only she would hear you: “Farah chose me.” 

Luna’s eyes widened, her nostrils flaring slightly as she was clearly fighting to hold her composure. She parted her lips to throw a rebuttal your way, but at that moment you felt warmth at your side as Farah swept in, her arm curling around your waist protectively. Gentle fingers caressed your cheek and Farah turned you to face her, her voice murmuring in your mind softly: “Don’t let her rile you, love.” Then her lips were on yours, pulling you to her in a searing kiss, and everything else seemed to fade away to nothingness, only Farah’s taste and the feeling of her arm around your waist, pulling you closer, remaining. 

When you finally pulled away, breathless, Luna was seething with rage, her eyes aflame though her expression remained eerily nonplussed. Farah, to her credit, only smiled at Luna, her eyes warning the woman not to make a scene as she made her excuses before stealing you away. It was only once you had melted into the crowds once more that Luna seemed to vanish from the bar and Farah slowed your pace, coming to a stop at a bench towards the back of the hall. 

“That seemed to grow more heated the longer it went on,” she commented, her gaze turned on you. 

“That woman is the most manipulative, conniving…” 

“I know, darling.” Soft hands came to cup your cheeks and Farah gazed down at you, leaning in to press another gentle kiss to your lips. “All these years later and she’s still bitter about how things ended with us. She shouldn’t take her anger at me out on you.” 

“Ah, but to do otherwise she would have to admit that she blames you. She’s still too in love with you to do that.” Farah only hummed in response, clearly unconvinced that Luna could hold any feelings of the sort towards her. 

“You should have told her about the panties in my pocket,” she whispered as her hand shifted to rub circles into the small of your back. 

“Hmm, I’m sure that would have gone down well,” you quipped, a light chuckle in your voice. 

Farah squeezed your hip, pressing a kiss to the side of your head. “It would have shut her up at the very least.”

Sighing softly, you smiled, pressing your forehead into Farah’s shoulder, feeling as both of her arms wrapped around you tightly, holding you firmly against her. “Well, thank you for swooping in to save me, darling. I never thought you’d kiss me like that at such a public, work event.” 

Farah chuckled at the smirk that you turned upon her, an amused grin pulling at her own lips though sincerity coloured her words when she spoke. “There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you,” she assured and the warmth that rushed through you at her words made you feel like the most adored woman in all the world. 

“I love you,” you murmured, rising to your toes to press a soft kiss to Farah’s lips. 

“And I you, so much.” 

Farah captured your lips once more but the kiss only lasted a second before the moment was broken, your peaceful microcosm invaded by the boisterous tones of Saul’s voice: “put her down Dowling, there are children present!” You couldn’t help but laugh as you pulled away from the kiss. Saul came to rest by your side, a grin pulling at his lips as he held out the glasses that you had abandoned at the bar in your attempt to escape Luna. “Thought you could do with these. I see the Wicked Bitch of the West is still holding that torch for our Farah. What poison was she spitting this time?” 

“Apparently my love is false and if I had really cared I would have fought Rosalind harder to stay by Farah’s side,” you muttered, rolling your eyes with a sigh. 

“Delusional,” Saul muttered, a look of disbelief pulling at his features. “She’s completely delusional.” You turned to give him an appreciative smile, squeezing Farah’s hand reassuringly as you noticed the way her jaw had tightened as you relayed what Luna had said to you. 

“Unfortunately,” Farah started tensely, “there is little to be done about the delusions of a monarch.” 

“I don’t know about that,” Saul chuckled. “I reckon a knife to her throat would be just as effective regardless of how blue her blood is.” Saul had always had your back and if anyone so much as looked at you in a way he didn’t like, his guard would be up immediately. You suspected the effects of his perceived failure in saving you all those years ago still weighed heavily on his shoulders. In many ways Saul was as close to you as a brother might have been. You could never truly explain how grateful you were for his protectiveness over you, despite how he wound you up at times.

“Saul…” you warned. Despite appreciating his protectiveness, there was a limit to how far you would allow him to take it. You drew the line at treason. 

Sensing the tension still radiating off of Farah, you pressed yourself a little closer to her side, your head resting against her shoulder. Absently, her arm curled around you once more, holding you close, and she leant down to press a kiss to your hair, her nose nuzzling at the crown of your head for a moment. “Are you okay?” you asked softly, lifting your gaze to meet Farah’s. The emotion swirling within the hazel depths of her eyes was potent yet unreadable. 

“It was one thing her hounding you when we first began our relationship, but that she would continue with such hateful comments after all of these years… after everything that you’ve been through…” 

Sighing you lay your hand on her chest, fingers pressed to the fabric over Farah’s heart as you felt the steady beating beneath your touch. It infuriated you that Luna’s presence always led to this: Farah feeling responsible for the way that Luna treated  you when there was no one to blame but the Queen of Solaria herself. In truth, you pitied Luna. She didn’t know how to love really. It was clear that, growing up, the little princess had not been shown love in any form by those around her. She was moulded into a being that only saw power, and the admiration of that power, in the case of how she viewed Farah, had led to obsession. Luna just couldn’t tell that obsession and love were not the same thing.

You knew that the truth was too much to discuss in the current setting and so you settled for a simpler path to comforting the woman you so adored. “I never cared for Luna’s opinions before I was taken from you and I don’t care for them now. You know that how I feel for you is true - that’s all that matters to me.” 

A moment of silence passed as Farah gazed down at you, her eyes swimming with adoration. Then, like an impatient child who had been waiting for his parents’ conversation to be over, Saul cut in once more, determined to lighten the mood. 

“You two have really lost your edge! What happened to the reckless party animals I used to know? I won’t have you moping around here all evening because the fucking Queen still isn’t over a breakup from decades ago! Come on, who’s going to let me dance with them?” 

A smile pulled at your lips as you caught the expectant look in Saul’s eyes. He held out a hand to the both of you, eyes flicking from Farah to you, then back again. You would have loved to dance - had come here knowing that it was an opportunity for you to truly unwind - but Farah needed to shake the tension of the recent interaction with Luna away and so you carefully extracted her drink from her grasp, nodding your head to Saul as you smiled at her. 

“Go on sweetheart, one of us has to humour him and I need a little more to drink before I trust Saul Silva to spin me around a dancefloor.” 

The look that Farah shot you was exasperated as Saul took her hand and pulled her away, but it was worth it to watch her smile and laugh as he spun her and dipped her. There was no better feeling in the world than seeing Farah smile, and you were certain that nothing would ever make you so happy for as long as you lived.

- 

As the evening wore on, the excitement of the ball’s opening calmed slightly and things began to settle: formal conversations of school and work slowly morphed into joking and general chatter; dancing for show turned to swaying in the arms of another whilst whispered words were passed. Gradually, as it got late, the older and younger attendees began to slope off to their beds leaving mostly the teaching staff of Alfea who were simply pleased to finally be allowed a moment to enjoy themselves outside of the ‘best behaviour’ policy which had been in place for the majority of the evening. 

Farah had seated herself at a table at the edge of the dance floor, a little tipsy from the one-too-many glasses of liquor she had allowed herself as the excitement had begun to ebb away and guests had begun to take their leave. She watched as, on the dancefloor, Ben spun you one, twice, three times, taking your hands as he pushed you away briefly before pulling you back to him, smiling down at you as you lay a hand demurely on his shoulder whilst he wrapped the other in his own. Your hair still hung in pretty curls down your back, your hips swaying fluidly as you continued to dance, and Farah found herself transfixed. 

“Easy there, you’ll start drooling if you’re not careful.” 

Reluctantly turning, Farah found Saul pulling a chair up by her side. His hair was slightly more ruffled than it had been at the beginning of the evening and his shirt looked somewhat crumpled, no doubt thanks to the expanse of time that he had spent on the dancefloor with some beautiful girl or another throughout the evening; if there was one certainty in life that Farah knew she could rely on, it was that Saul Silva would find any excuse to interact with as many beautiful women as he could at a party. 

Saul smiled that charmingly crooked smile of his as he bumped Farah’s shoulder with his own and she couldn’t help but laugh at his antics. “I am not drooling,” she said. 

“Not yet, but if that mouth of yours hangs open for much longer…” Farah only rolled her eyes, being sure to press her lips firmly together. Saul nudged her again, following her line of sight to you just as Ben spun you in and dipped you low. “All these years and you still look at her like she hung the moon. I never would’ve predicted it.” 

“No?” An eyebrow raised as she turned to face Saul once more and he had the good sense to look sheepish. 

“Full disclosure, I had money on you driving her away with your ambition. Never thought you’d be able to choose her over your work.” 

A moment passed and Farah didn’t respond. She studied her friend’s face, taking in the kind eyes and boyish smile. He had a good heart, even if he could be an arse at times, and he cared more than he’d ever let on. She liked that about him. 

“Only you could get away with admitting you bet against my happiness,” she quipped, earning a chuckle from Saul who leaned back in his chair, watching along with Farah as the song changed and you tried to pull away from Ben only to be pulled back as he asked for another dance. 

“You are happy, aren’t you?” It seemed less a question and more a need for assurance. Farah sighed - Saul and Ben had seen her through some dark times during the years of your coma; she understood Saul’s need to know that she wasn’t just putting on an act now that you were back. 

“I am,” she confirmed honestly. A smile pulled at her lips then, bright and true. “A year ago I never would have believed that such happiness could ever reenter my life. She came back and the cracks began to fade. Everything seemed brighter. You may not have predicted the longevity of our relationship, Saul, but I knew right from the beginning.” 

Another moment. Neither spoke. You laughed at something that Ben had said, your eyes flicking over to meet Farah’s, and she almost held her breath as she smiled at you, genuine adoration flowing from every pore in her body. It still amazed her, the power that you held in a smile or a laugh. She had never known anyone else who could have her mesmerised so simply, and yet all you had to do was say her name and everything around her ceased to matter but the sound of your voice. 

“I’ve been considering asking her.” 

“Asking her?” Saul’s voice was quizzical, clearly not following Farah’s train of thought. 

“Asking her,” she confirmed, “to marry me.” 

Saul’s eyebrows shot up, his attention now back on Farah. She could feel his gaze fixed on the side of her head, though she never drew her attention away from you. She almost wanted to laugh at his seeming surprise - it wasn’t as though he didn’t know that this was something she had wanted for years. They had had this same conversation long ago, before Bloom’s birth, before the pregnancy even. If anyone knew how badly Farah wanted to call you her wife, it was Saul. 

“You sure the timing’s right? Last time…” 

“Last time I was young and I had endless doubts, mostly about my own worthiness.” A soft sigh slipped from Farah’s lips and she lifted the half empty glass of whisky that she had abandoned on the table when she had first sat down. She drank deeply from it, finishing the last drop before replacing the glass on the table’s surface. “I shouldn’t have let doubt stop me. We’ve lost so many years…” 

Saul seemed to have a sixth sense for when Farah’s mind was beginning to spiral after so many years of friendship and, sensing that her mind was stepping into a darker place than he’d like, he reached out to her, gripping her upper arm gently yet firmly to ground her. “Hey, don’t go there. Those lost years had nothing to do with your hesitance to ask her sooner.” 

“Did they not? Perhaps if I had prioritised our relationship over Rosalind and her battles…” A sigh broke Farah’s words and she shook her head. “You were right, you know. Back then I always did prioritise my work… I rather think I still do at times.” Her eyes were fixed on you once more, watching how you moved to the music so beautifully. A reverent whisper of your name passed her lips and she smiled softly. “She wouldn’t leave me for it; she just finds a way to make herself a part of it. How could I not want to marry someone who understands me like that?” Farah paused then, a small frown creasing her brow as she turned her head to glance at Saul. When she spoke her voice was smaller than he thought he had ever heard it. “Do you think she’d say yes?” 

It was all Saul could do to keep from laughing at the absurdity of such a question. “Farah, she adores you. You should hear the way she speaks about you when you’re not around, like you’re the most precious thing in existence to her. I think she’d sooner die than be parted from you. Of course she’d say yes.” 

Wide hazel eyes turned to her friend one last time as she considered his words, then all at once her features softened and she smiled, nodding slightly. She parted her lips to speak again, but the words died on her lips as you swept from the dancefloor and, before Farah knew what was happening, you were in her lap, your arms looped around her neck and a pout on your face as you glared up at Ben. 

“Farah, will you please explain to Ben that there are only so many dances that I can manage before I need to rest. My poor feet can’t take any more in these heels!” 

With your welcome weight in her lap, the distant, longing look seemed to have slipped from Farah’s eyes and she chuckled softly as she took in your expression and the slight whining tone to your voice. She had always found you incredibly endearing when you were tired and had had a few drinks, enjoying how needy you would become and the way you would cling to her as though you feared losing physical contact. 

“But we were having fun!” Ben protested. 

“Yes, and now I need the fun to end.” The way in which you looked at him left no room for argument and so Ben held up his hands in defeat, turning a sly smile on Farah who, sensing what he was about to say, held up a hand to stop him, shaking her head with a small laugh. 

“Don’t even think about it, Harvey, I need to get my darling partner into some more comfortable shoes and the pair of you need to start ushering the stragglers out. It’s been a lovely evening but we will all need to sleep eventually. Best we close up the school and get everyone home to their respective beds.” 

Saul rose rather quickly from his chair, no doubt in search of one of the many girls he’d eyed throughout the evening. Ben, on the other hand, took slow steps towards the hallway, as though sad that the ball he had been looking forward to had come to an end. Neither seemed to have paid Farah’s request for them to start shutting the ball down the slightest bit of notice, but thankfully Farah knew that, were the last remaining guests not off school property in the next half hour, the caretakers would have their heads and chase them all off before locking up. 

You remained seated in Farah’s lap once alone in the vast expanse of the room. The musicians had placed their instruments back in their cases and a comfortable quiet had fallen over the space around you. As you gazed into Farah’s eyes you noticed a look there, curious, searching perhaps. “What’s on your mind?” you asked her in a whisper as you pressed a kiss to the tip of her nose.

“You.” Farah sighed, her eyes slipping closed in what you recognised as contentment. “You’re all I can think about.” Her eyes opened to regard you and you felt your stomach flutter at the way her eyes sparkled so magnificently.

You let out a giggle. “Farah Dowling, you are too much sometimes.” Leaning down you placed a languid kiss to her lips, suddenly feeling as though you never wanted to leave this moment. Farah’s kisses were intense, growing hot on your lips as her tongue slipped into your mouth. Soon her lips left yours as she made a trail of wet kisses down your neck and, without halting in her path, you heard her voice within your mind as you had several times throughout the evening: “I want to take you home and make love to you .”  The sound of the words reverberating through your thoughts silenced everything else and you wanted nothing more than for her to take your right then and there. Still, the idea of seeing Farah’s bare form and having her pressed against you caused you to pull away for a moment, gazing into her eyes as her breaths came in more shallow gasps. 

Reluctantly, you rose from Farah’s lap, straightening your dress as you held out your hand to her. Locking eyes with you, she clasped your hand in her own and drew your fingers to her lips, pressing several soft kisses there before the two of you left the Atrium to head home.

-

A short while later you and Farah found yourselves at the doorstep of your house, too engrossed in each other to open the door. Farah was all lips and teeth - harsh and greedy against you - and when she let out a moan you ached to hear it again. With a great deal of effort and willpower you pulled yourself away from her briefly to open the door, feeling Farah’s lips on your throat doing all kinds of distracting things until finally the door swung open and you pulled her inside. The moment the door shut behind you, Farah pushed you up against the wall of the hallway and you let out a gasp in surprise. You lingered for a moment, the urgency ebbing away, and you watched her hazel eyes as they regarded you. 

Her face was perfect, her lips slightly swollen after kissing you, and you watched as she pulled her lower lip between her teeth, her eyes raking over you as though she barely believed that you could be real. Reaching out a hand, you trailed your fingers across the smooth skin of her cheek, brushing your thumb over her bottom lip and pulling it from between her teeth. You yearned to feel her bare skin against yours and it struck you once again that you could never long for another like you did Farah. Her beautiful eyes fixed on yours and you felt your heart swell with the certainty that she yearned for you too. 

Painfully slowly you moved closer to brush your lips against Farah’s in something that was not quite a kiss. It seemed to drive Farah wild as she sought your lips in return, pressing herself so close that it felt as though she may merge into you with just a little more effort. You let her kiss you as you led her up the stairs and towards the bedroom, stopping every few steps to revel in one another and drink up the moment of intimacy. Once there, you stepped away from her and slipped the thin fabric of your dress off your shoulders, letting it pool on the floor. It left you wearing only your bra and heels. To say it was divine to feel Farah’s hungry gaze on you was an understatement. Without breaking eye contact, she slipped her hand into her pocket, pulling your lace panties out to dangle from her finger before she carelessly tossed them behind her, a playful smirk pulling at her lips.

Farah moved closer, murmuring in a low voice, “you are stunning.” Her eyes dragging over your form, lingering on your chest and tracing the pattern of freckles on the curve of your hip. She let her fingers travel over the delicate skin there and, though it was barely a touch, you shuddered. Her eyes shot up to meet yours, the sense of urgency returning as she guided you towards the bed, stepping out of your heels as you went. 

As you landed on the mattress, Farah hovered above you, the bow of her shirt urging you to pull her closer. Twirling it around your hand you tugged and Farah let out a surprised laugh as you kissed her fiercely. As she pulled away for air, she dragged your bottom lip between her teeth and you felt as a soft moan slipped from your lips, drawing a low chuckle from Farah. 

In one swift movement you rolled the two of you over, switching positions, at which Farah raised an eyebrow. “I think it’s only fair that we’re both in a state of undress, don’t you?” 

Slowly, you began unbuttoning Farah’s blouse and she raised herself up to help you tug it from her. Once it lay piled on the floor with your dress, you paused to regard her. The way the black lace of her bra curved around her breasts took your breath away and you leaned down to place a kiss atop each. Straightening, you skimmed your hands down to her waist, reaching the hem of her trousers and, with her help, you pulled them off along with her matching panties. 

You paused - wanting to savour the moment, simply drinking her in as you now hovered above her. Watching her like that you were overwhelmed with the urge to commit her to memory – every inch of her. Farah remained still, meeting your gaze as her hands rested on your waist, gently brushing the skin there. Whilst you had seen her spread out before you countless times before, she never ceased to steal your breath with her ethereal beauty – her skin flushed with desire as she blinked up at you with hazel eyes so deep you could happily get lost in them.

Before you could lean down to kiss Farah once more, she seemed to tire of being admired and rolled you over until you found yourself staring up at her. “Fighting for control, are we?” you smirked.

“I want to see you.” Farah’s voice came out in a whisper, thick with need.

Arousal throbbed between your legs as the words slipped from her lips and you surged upwards to kiss her. Your hands sought her hair and you let your nails drag over her scalp, revelling in the way Farah’s breath hitched at the feeling. She moved her lips away from your mouth and ghosted kisses over the skin of your neck and shoulder where she nipped sharply, pulling a soft whine from somewhere deep within you. Wrapping her arm around your shoulders, Farah urged you to lift yourself up on your elbows and with one hand she reached around and unclasped your strapless bra. In the next moment she had reached behind her own back and her bra dropped onto your lap with your own, Farah tossing them over her shoulder dramatically in a way that made you laugh.

Lowering herself to you, Farah’s body pressed against yours again and the sensation of her naked skin against your own made your head spin. The softness of her was intoxicating, the urge to kiss every inch of her bubbling up inside you in a way that was almost too much to bear. Resuming her task, Farah lowered her lips to the centre of your chest before moving to one of your nipples, dragging her tongue over it. You arched into her touch, desperate for more. She closed her mouth over your nipple and pulled back, letting it go with a pop , and before she moved away, she blew a breath of hot air against it.

The sensation caused a jolt of arousal to hit your core and you let out a surprised gasp: “Farah!”

Farah hummed in delight and you felt the vibration of her chest against your skin. She spent what seemed an age revelling in your body with endless teasing and you grew increasingly impatient with every brush of her lips and slip of her fingers against your flesh. You wanted to be touched by her with every fibre of your being, aching for her to give you what you wanted. It felt as though your body was on fire and if you weren’t in such a delicious haze you might have been embarrassed by the growing slickness between your legs.

Wrapping your legs around Farah’s waist more forcefully than you had perhaps intended, you whined softly, the words breaking from you in a plea: “Farah, please.” 

As Farah’s eyes locked onto yours, you saw how soft her gaze had grown and you knew she could never deny you anything. Finally she obliged, reaching her hand between your legs, her arm pressed between your bodies. The moment her thumb brushed your clit, you let out a moan and tightened your legs around her waist in search of more. Farah watched you closely, ever observant, carefully studying every miniscule movement of your face in order to respond in the way that you needed. Your breath came in ragged pants and just as you were about to plead once more, Farah pushed two fingers into you, curling her fingers just so until you arched into her. Another moan escaped your lips and you let the sensations fill your body, reaching right to your fingertips and toes as your eyes slipped shut to fully appreciate the intensity of the moment. As Farah easily slipped another finger inside you, you bit your lip, entirely engrossed in the feeling of being so close to the edge – you were chasing it desperately.

Farah’s lips were on yours again in moments and as she pulled away, she said: “Open your eyes, my love.” For a moment it felt as though you couldn’t, your other senses too overwhelmed to take much more, but as Farah leant closer and nibbled at your earlobe softly you heard her voice slip into your mind once more, gently encouraging. “Be a good girl for me, won’t you?”  

You complied, opening your eyes to meet hers, and there was an intensity there that grew as she held your gaze. Farah pushed into you, utilising the full weight of her body as she lay on top of you, curling her fingers with maddening effect. Breath hitching, your body tensed and you forced your eyes to remain open as you toppled over the edge. Farah’s gaze took you in, as though she too wanted to commit you to memory just as you were in that very moment. You took a breath and you felt your body shudder as Farah kept her fingers where they were as you came down from your high.

“You are the most beautiful thing in the world to me,” Farah said as she reached out with her free hand to brush the hair out of your face. You blushed under the intensity of her gaze, and another shudder wracked your frame as Farah pulled her fingers from you.

“Alright, love?” she asked, concern momentarily flashing across her features.

You let out a deep sigh. “I’m perfect, darling.”

“Aren’t you just…” 

Farah sat up and licked her fingers clean, the sight causing desire to coil within you once more. Pulling Farah down towards you, you rolled over on your side, facing her. Your hand rested on her hip, your fingers slowly trailing upwards to the underside of her breast where you brushed the delicate skin there with your thumb. In the quiet of the moment your mind wandered and a realisation crossed your thoughts that had not occurred to you up to that point: sex didn’t necessarily equal intimacy, but with Farah it was – the way she loved you and made love to you was the most intimate thing in the world because you felt utterly safe with her. You could let go of all restraints and trust that Farah would catch you when you fell. You desired her in a way that made your body hot all over and you yearned to touch her, to make her feel the same.

You decided then that you wanted to worship Farah, to pour the intensity of your emotions into her, to make her feel like you could give her the world, and you would never cease wanting to do so for as long as you lived.

Chapter Text

A gentle breeze rustled through the leaves of the trees on the grounds of Alfea as Farah looked out from the bay window of her classroom. For the most part the grounds were still and quiet, but for the distant sounds of the specialists training on the east side of the fairy hall, just out of sight. It was a shame, she thought as she leant back in her chair, her gaze traversing the expanse of greenery before her, that her classroom and office had not been placed in opposite wings of the building. Her office, where she was usually too busy for gazing out of the window in this way, had a perfect view of the specialists’ training ground, whilst this classroom only allowed for a view of fields. Watching you with your students would have been much more entertaining.  

With the image of you slipping to her mind, Farah found her thoughts beginning to wander. You had looked particularly delicious that morning in your uniform, the tight fabric hugging your curves just so and your hair tied back, leaving your neck exposed. She had just been able to make out the top of a bite mark that she had left on your neck over the rim of the collar and even now the memory of the sight had her heart rate quickening. Farah was certain that whatever you were teaching you would be doing an exquisite job, but she longed to be watching from her office window, enjoying the strain of your muscles against your uniform and the precise movements of your weapon within your grasp; you were so very good with your hands. 

A few soft giggles broke through her musings and Farah turned her head to check on her class. Given that the end of the year was now only two short weeks away, Farah had elected to give her first year fairies the opportunity to work on a project that would demonstrate all that they had learned that year. She had set very few limitations, only stating that they had to ensure that their magic was carried out to the best of their ability and that no one got hurt in the process. The creative part of the project was down to the students themselves. 

With such freedom with their work, she had thought that the students would be easily engrossed in the task at hand, yet the Winx girls seemed distracted. They were huddled together around a table, the sheet of paper that they were supposed to be making an initial plan on seemingly forgotten as they whispered amongst themselves. 

“I hope the giggling doesn’t mean that we’re losing focus,” Farah warned, though her lips turned up into a small smile. She could hardly talk - her own mind was far from this classroom and she knew it. 

Terra’s eye caught Farah’s and she blushed, shaking her head. “Of course not Aunt Fa… I mean, Headmistress.” The deepening blush that began spreading across the girl’s cheeks at her slip up was endearing and Farah had to cough to cover a chuckle of her own. 

“We were just trying to guess what the specialists were working on today,” Aisha added quickly, her voice earnest as she tried to cover Terra’s slip up. “It sounds particularly violent from some of the shouts.” 

Farah wasn’t sure why, but she sensed that there was more to what the girls had been discussing than they were letting on. Curious, her gaze drew across the group to where Bloom sat at the end of the table, her head resting on one of her hands with a curtain of hair masking her face. It was clear from her posture that she was avoiding catching her mother’s eye and a frown began to pull at Farah’s brow. It wasn’t as though Farah was all that upset about the girls being off task and she was struggling to make sense of what could have her daughter so insistent on avoiding her gaze. 

It was only when Musa cleared her throat and began to speak that Farah finally started to realise what must have happened. “Miss Dowling, could we maybe go down and see what the specialists are up to?” the girl started, seemingly being careful in choosing her words. “I’m sure we would all enjoy it.” 

As she said the word ‘all’ Musa’s emphasis seemed to pull at the thread of understanding that tied everything together and Farah’s eyebrows raised, her eyes widening ever so slightly. In her moment of musing she must have let her walls drop just enough that Musa had caught on to her thoughts. No wonder Bloom appeared so mortified - one of her best friends had just heard one of her mothers’ indecent thoughts about the other. 

Clearing her throat, Farah glanced around the room, realising that the conversation had pulled other groups from their work as well. Now a myriad of hopeful eyes blinked up at her, all seemingly intent on her response. Farah felt torn on what to do. On the one hand, she would very much like to get out of this classroom and into the sun, and by the looks of it her class felt very similarly. On the other hand, did she really want to set a precedent for blowing off class schedules on a whim simply because the year was coming to an end? If word got out, every class would be wanting the same privilege, not to mention Farah would essentially be allowing herself to be blackmailed by her students - not that the Winx girls would tell anyone of what Musa had heard, for Bloom’s sake if nothing else, but still it wouldn’t do to let them pressure her like that. 

“I understand that we’re all tired and that the thought of being out in the sun is far more favourable than working in here, however these projects are important in assessing how far you have come with your magic this year. Perhaps towards the end of next week, as a treat I could…” 

“Oh come on Miss D, half a lesson can’t hurt.” 

To Farah’s surprise, the voice that had piped up was Bloom’s. The girl was now looking at her with wide, blue eyes, an eyebrow raised in challenge, her expression not too dissimilar to yours when you were trying to convince her to loosen up. For a moment Bloom’s eyes flashed with her magic and she nodded almost imperceptibly towards Farah and in a moment she could hear Bloom’s voice projecting into her own mind. “You just let one of my best friends hear you fantasising about Mom, are you really gonna make me sit here for another 30 minutes with them all giggling about it?”  

Guilt settled heavily in Farah’s stomach and she sighed, shaking her head. To the rest of the class it must have seemed that the headmistress was getting soft as the end of the year approached. Holding up her hands in defeat, Farah sighed out in resignation: “alright, but this is not to turn into a rumour making its way around the school, do you hear me?” 

A few nods met her words and a number of students grinned and whooped in excitement. The class began packing their things and heading for the door, all but ignoring Farah’s requests for them to make their way out to the training grounds quietly. Just as she was about to leave, Bloom glanced back at Farah, mouthing a quick ‘thank you’ before she and her friends too disappeared into the halls. 

It was all Farah could do not to sigh once again as she plucked her jacket from the back of her chair and hurried after her class - she really must be more careful with her mental barriers when it came to thoughts of you. 

- 

“Ugh!” 

It was the third time today that you had found yourself flat on your back, the air knocked out of your lungs.  The students were getting much better and, though you didn’t particularly enjoy being thrown like that, you were proud of what they had achieved this year. Pushing yourself back up to your feet, you wiped the sweat from your brow. The afternoon sun was hot, blazing down around you, and you could feel how the expanse of your skin had grown damp from the exertion in such temperatures - a shower would most definitely be in order by the time you got home.

“Well done, Jonathan.” You said, catching your breath. “Watch your focus though. Don’t let your guard down; I could’ve hit you just now.”

He grinned in response. “But you didn’t.” 

Shaking your head, you snorted. “Don’t be smart. You are not the first to have done that today and I would’ve thought you should have learned by now.” 

Nodding his head, the boy re-focused on his sparring partner and you turned away from him to watch the rest of the class. The students had split off into pairs and had been sparring for some time now - you were pleased to see that they were starting to look as tired as you felt. Leaning on your practice sword, it was a relief to finally have enough time to catch your breath properly. You had retreated a few steps and it was just enough for the branches of a nearby tree to offer some shade from the hot sun. 

All at once it seemed that the attention of the students was slipping away and you moved closer to see what was going on. It didn’t take long before you understood why; another class was approaching and leading them was none other than Farah. At the sight of her you felt your stomach do a pleasant swoop and you wanted nothing more than to rush towards her and kiss her. Huffing at your child-like whims you managed to resist the temptation just as Saul walked up to your side.

“What’s going on?” He grinned despite seeming a little confused.

You couldn’t help but mirror his expression - surely there was nothing that had been scheduled this late in the day? Farah was usually so strict with her timetabling, it seemed odd that she would allow for any divergence. Still, as she approached, you couldn’t help but let your eyes linger on her, enjoying the way she seemed almost regal as she walked. You couldn’t say you minded the visit, scheduled or otherwise.

Meeting the group as they drew nearer, both you and Saul appraised them in their approach. You had your hands clasped behind your back and were trying very hard to remain professional under the watchful eyes of the students, not wanting to seem as confused as you were by their presence. 

“Got your timetable wrong?” Saul asked Farah, crossing his arms as he shot her a smirk. 

Farah arched her eyebrow in the way she always did when she was secretly amused and you had to keep from biting your lip at the mischievous look in her eyes. “Not at all, Headmaster Silva.” Her eyes swept over you as she uttered your name before turning to her class. “It’s such a nice day and I thought it might be useful to my fairies to come and see how you're progressing.” 

It hadn’t been until Farah addressed the class that you saw Bloom, huddled close to her friends and giggling. You caught her eye and smiled, noticing that her cheeks looked more flushed than usual. Turning your gaze slightly you found Sky at the back of your own class giving her a wide grin. Pretending that you hadn’t noticed, you shifted your attention to Farah once more. 

Saul looked disapproving as he took in Farah’s admittedly weak explanation for the presence of her class. Beneath the gruff exterior, however, you could swear you saw a hint of a sparkle in his eye. “And how exactly are your class meant to learn by watching the specialists?”

You could tell by Saul’s demeanour that he was up to something, but you remained quiet, trying to draw as little attention to yourself as you could. Usually when Saul was up to something it ended badly for you and, with hours in the sun having sapped you of much of your energy reserves, you were in no way prepared for the kind of mischief he was likely trying to stir up here.

“Oooh!” A familiar voice piped up and you could see Terra stepping into view. Her expression was somewhat playful and, when her eyes met yours, your heart sank. “Maybe we could make this a paired combat lesson? You and Headmistress Dowling could demonstrate for us, couldn’t you? You are a bonded pairing after all, right? Who better for us to learn from?” 

Terra’s words came out in quick succession, a trait of hers that you’d come to know well lately. She lacked her characteristic uncertainty, however and, as she shared a look with Musa, you sensed that something was passing between them that you had missed somewhere along the line. 

Glancing sideways at Saul, you could tell that Terra’s suggestion had been much better than whatever he had been plotting. The grin that had spread across his face was luminous and, gleeful as a child on Christmas morning, the sparkle in his eyes had intensified. He looked as though he may burst from excitement. 

“I’m not sure-” you began, but Saul cut you off.

“I think that’s a marvellous idea!” His voice was loud enough to drown yours completely and he clapped his hands together, drawing everyone’s attention. You shot him a look as though you were wishing for his ultimate demise. He only grinned harder at the feeling of your glare burning into the side of his head. “Right then, fairies find a partner amongst the specialists and gather around.” 

Letting out a sigh you could only turn to look at Farah who gave a resigned look in return, her fingers twitching as if she wanted to throw her hands up in defeat. She glanced over at Terra and Musa briefly, her eyebrow raised, before turning back to you, the words “I’m sorry” whispered clearly into your mind. More than anything you wanted to know what she believed she needed to be sorry for, but with two classes now seemingly awaiting a show, you rolled your eyes. 

“Fine,” you all but growled at Saul as you walked past him, the entire class giving you a wide berth as you passed. 

You had been given a few minutes to get ready whilst the simulation crystals were retrieved from the specialist hall so you stood stretching your already tired muscles for one last round for the day. You checked the knives strapped to the side of your boot and the dagger on the side of your thigh. Your sword stood leaning against a nearby bench and you picked it up, swinging it in the air a few times, refamiliarising yourself with its weight.

Farah approached, her sympathetic smile soothing your weary limbs. Understanding radiated from her and you wanted nothing more than to allow yourself to collapse into her arms and be held. “I’m sorry about this, darling.” She spoke softly, her voice low enough so that the rest wouldn’t hear. “If I had realised that bringing them down here would make your job more strenuous… well…” Her voice trailed away into nothingness and she glanced around to ensure that you didn’t have an audience before reaching out to lay a comforting hand on your upper arm.

Taking in the gentle look in her eyes and the warming smile, you felt all irritation ebb away, another wave of resolve settling into you. “I’m going to need the full story when we get home, Dowling - preferably whilst you give me a back rub.” With a wink you turned and, walking towards the waiting class, gave Farah’s hand a gentle squeeze as you passed her. 

“Right!” Saul’s voice rang out over the assembled students and a hush fell over the classes as they watched him with rapt attention. “I will release two teams of four simulated specialists, and you will all get to see how it’s done. Pay close attention to the connection between our specialist and fairy models - you may not all find a paired bond in your future but that doesn’t mean that you can’t imitate the connection closely with a partner to strengthen your results in battle.” He glanced towards you, looking amused.

You could’ve murdered Saul right then - two teams certainly wasn’t standard procedure. However, glancing sideways at Farah, you saw nothing but confidence and you were emboldened by her, feeling as you so often did with her by your side, that you could do anything. 

The group of students now stood at the very edge of the training field, giving you and Farah as much space as you needed for the demonstration. Positioning yourself just a couple of steps behind Farah you took a moment to ground yourself; closing your eyes, you took a deep breath and emptied your mind as best you could. Lifting your gaze, you noticed Farah doing the same - this certainly wasn’t the first time preparing for combat that you had fallen so easily in sync with one another. Just as she always did, Farah turned slightly to face you for a brief moment. “We’ve got this, my love. ”  Her steady voice in your mind worked like a comforting cocoon around you and made you feel ready to face anything. 

You smiled at her, opening your mind to her. “ As always, darling .” Farah's returning smile had your heart skipping a beat in your chest and she turned ahead once more, awaiting the simulated specialists. 

As you knew with every simulation, there would be no warning for when they would be activated. This type of training was designed as the ultimate test for specialists in training and was often used as a final exam. Just as it would be in real life, one could never anticipate when the threat would be upon you. 

Focussing your mind, the quiet chatter from the students faded away and you could feel all of your senses heightened and alert. You watched Farah for a split second and noticed she was using her magic to scan the area. As you turned your gaze ahead, however, you saw the specialists materialising and at once an arrow released. You took two determined strides to Farah’s side, giving the side of her shoulder a firm push and she fell onto the grass with a grunt, the arrow missing her by inches as it shot past her and dissipated as it hit the ground. Both teams approached you like a pack of wolves and they were closing in fast. You didn’t waste a moment. Grabbing a knife from the hilt on your thigh, you threw it towards a specialist, hitting him straight in the chest. The image flickered and was gone - one down. 

Exchanging a sidelong glance with Farah, her voice filled your mind: “ Pack movement procedure, love - draw them towards you. ” You pulled your sword from its sheath on your back and advanced. From the very first time you had been paired with Farah you had understood that your job was to protect her in battle at all costs. Her magic was strong and invaluable in battle, but it made her vulnerable at times, her attention drawn in one direction so that she didn’t see additional threats. For that reason you remained close to her, cutting down any who dared to get too close. Her silent commands into your mind were a constant guide to you and you never failed her - this would be no different. 

A figure dressed in black with no discernible face ran towards you as though it wanted to knock you off your feet by brute force. Running towards it and away from Farah, you let out a growl as you advanced. Just as it came within reach you kicked hard into the side of its knee and it crashed onto the ground, a howl of pain filling the air. You didn’t wait for it to respond and drove your sword into its chest watching as it dissipated into nothing. Almost instantly the remaining simulations appeared to hone in on you; it seemed as though killing one triggered the others to respond to you and they all swarmed towards you as though they were closing in on their prey. You spun on the spot, dragging your sword through the air in an attempt to keep them from getting too close. 

For a moment it felt as though everything stilled, anticipation mounting within you. Then, all at once, Farah’s voice rang out in your mind: “ Get down! ” Immediately you flattened yourself onto the grass, covering your head with your arms. The ground shook with the force of her magic, bolts of eerily blue lightning streaking across the sky above you, and you could just see from the slit between your arms that the figures that had surrounded you just moments ago were now gone. 

Springing to your feet you ran to Farah’s side, grabbing her hand and giving it a gentle squeeze. A moment passed between you, your eyes locked upon one another, and a desire to wrap her up in your arms once more swelled within you. It was wonderful to feel that old certainty in your partnership settling over you, even after all the years that had passed. 

Once the two of you turned around, you were met by a roar of whoops and shouts by the students, clapping wildly as you approached. Saul’s smirk was once more firmly pulling at his lips and you rolled your eyes as he approached, letting him clap you on the back approvingly. You sensed that there were comments he wanted to make but you shot him a look that warned him against saying whatever was on his mind. No doubt you would hear all about it later. 

Pulling your attention back to Farah, you noticed you still held her hand firmly in your own. For a moment you wondered at pulling away, knowing how Farah preferred to keep the intimacy of your relationship quiet around the students, but as her gaze met yours you found that you didn’t want to let go and, apparently, neither did she. 

- 

“Your daughter is a menace, Ben,” you chuckled, drinking deeply from your second glass of whiskey. You had started the evening keeping Ben company with his bottle of red wine, but two hours in and Farah had somehow coaxed you into joining her in the harder stuff. “I mean, she looked right in my eyes today, saw how exhausted I was, and still put on that hopeful little face of hers and talked Farah and I into a paired combat demonstration!” 

You loved evenings like this, when the week had drawn to a close and you could retreat from the confines of Alfea to the little pub in the nearby village to unwind. It was a rare occurrence nowadays, with Farah worried about running into students and Ben mortified at the idea of finding himself drinking in the same place as his children. Still, on the odd occasion both you and Saul could just about manage to twist their arms, it felt like old times again.

Despite your still aching body from the trials of the day, the alcohol had settled in a warm, comforting haze by this point and as you spoke you sank into Farah’s side, enjoying the way that her arm wrapped around you and pulled you closer into her embrace. Looking around, you took in the pub’s quaint yet somewhat aged decor. Very typical of an establishment of its type, the carpet sported a gaudy pattern, only made bearable by its worn state. Across the ceiling, beer mats and bottle tops had been displayed: a collection that would only be prized by a publican or an alcoholic. The air was stale with the smell of alcohol and salty snacks, and a hum of voices created a friendly atmosphere. It certainly wasn’t a high class establishment, but you loved it there. The place held so many memories of times before everything fell apart and being back within its walls held a peace for you that you embraced willingly. 

Ben’s soft laugh pulled you from your musings and you turned back as he took his own wine glass from the table and took a sip. “Ah yes, she has quite the talent for twisting one’s will. She gets it from her mother I think.” 

“Darling, it’s not entirely the girl’s fault,” Farah began. Her voice was smooth yet a little stilted. You could feel there was something she was hesitant to voice coming. “I may have let my mental barriers slip in class before we decided to pay you a visit.” 

You frowned slightly, unsure as to what exactly it was that Farah was confessing. You tried to think back to how Terra had phrased the suggestion of the demonstration, searching for any hint as to what it would have to do with Farah. Somehow, Saul got there first. 

“Bonded pairing,” he chuckled, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively in Farah’s direction, “Farah, what exactly were you thinking about that one of your mind fairies stumbled upon? No need to spare us the details.” The glee in his eyes almost matched that which he had worn upon his face on the training grounds earlier in the day. Feeling Farah flush beside you at Saul’s teasing tone you kicked at his ankle sharply, earning you a muffled groan as his features contorted into a grimace of pain. 

“Don’t be an ass, Saul,” you remonstrated. 

“Good luck getting him to break a habit of a lifetime.” Ben grinned at you. 

“Alright kicker,” Saul teased, “I’m only saying, Farah’s only ever had one weakness when it comes to her mental barriers…” Throwing a wink in your direction, Saul grinned between you and Farah. The feeling of your cheeks flushing was inescapable and you turned away only to catch the glare that Farah was throwing at Saul over the table. 

With a grin spreading over his own lips, Ben piped up then. “Come to think of it,” he began, glancing pointedly in your direction. “I do recall once when the two of you were first courting when Farah was tutoring a group of mind fairies in mental barriers and one broke through hers just as you happened to be passing by… I’m not sure I’d ever seen a student go so red before or since.” 

“Thank you for that helpful insight, Professor Harvey,” Farah said. Her voice was tired and a little tense; you rested a calming hand on her thigh in an attempt to ease the strain of being the focus of your friends’ teasing. “Well, if you two are quite done shaming me for my…” she cleared her throat there, seemingly buying time to find the words that she was looking for. The words never found her, however, and instead Farah’s eyes wandered to you, helplessly. 

Smiling, you only leant up to press a chaste kiss to Farah’s lips, a sense of calm washing over you as you felt her relax into the feeling of your lips against her own. “There is nothing shameful in desire, my love. You know that.” As you pulled back, you turned a look of disappointment on the two men sitting across from you, watching as Saul held up his hands in defeat whilst Ben attempted to bury his nose in his drink. 

A moment passed and conversation appeared to calm between you. It was a comfort that, though you had feared that your friendships would have been changed by your extended absence, these moments of quiet never felt awkward or strained in the least. Saul’s eyes had wandered to the bar where a young but pretty barmaid was cleaning glasses. Ben, on the other hand, had taken out his phone and was typing away, though you suspected he was just trying to cover the guilt he felt for playing into Saul’s teasing. 

“Some things don’t change, do they?” You asked after a short while had passed. Three sets of eyes turned to look at you, a smile pulling at your lips. “This, for example… us. Things don’t feel any different than they did when we were young and stupid.” 

A laugh bubbled up in Farah at that and she pressed a kiss to your temple. “If what you mean by that is that Saul still thinks that he is young and stupid…” 

“Hey!” Saul protested, but the chuckle that followed made clear that he wasn’t really hurt. 

“I only mean, so much has changed but here we are, still drinking away our Friday evenings, giving each other shit about our horny escapades.” You winked in Farah’s direction and she flushed pink, though her arm tightened around you, her fingers coming to run teasingly along your thigh. “It’s nice.” 

Ben nodded his agreement, a hum emanating from Saul as he smiled at you. 

“It wasn’t the same, doing this when you weren’t around,” Saul admitted, “and not just because Farah was less fun without you.” This time when Saul winced you knew that it was Farah who had kicked him under the table. You couldn’t help but chuckle as he huffed this time: “You two are going to have my ankles bruised black.” 

“You were advised to stop being an ass,” came the reminder from Farah. 

“Right, more drinks then?” Saul offered. “I assume I’m buying for you two as an apology.” 

At the suggestion you raised an eyebrow, turning to Farah with a mischievous twinkle in your eye. “That’s a new one, how did you train that trait into him?” 

Chuckling, Farah swatted at your thigh, though she played along with your game, glancing at you with that fondness in her eyes that always had your heart rate quickening. “Apparently you can teach an old dog new tricks after all.” 

Ignoring you both, Ben and Saul took your glasses from you, heading over to the bar just as Farah’s phone began to ring. Frowning, she uncoiled her arm from around you, taking her phone out and answering. The call was brief and when Farah hung up she turned to you, seemingly curious. 

“That was Bloom, she wanted to know if you were serious about your offer to have Sky over for dinner.” 

You raised your eyebrows for a moment as you regarded Farah, your eyes meeting her searching gaze. “Well, then, it looks like we’re having Bloom and Sky over for dinner.”

-

The evening was warm as you stood in the kitchen, carefully dicing the onion for the recipe that sat on the counter beside you. Every window in the room had been flung open, the kitchen door sitting ajar, and a gentle breeze filled the room, taking the edge off of temperatures that would otherwise be stifling. You hummed softly as you swayed in time with the soft melody of the music that was playing from a speaker on the other side of the room and, as you lay your knife aside to check the recipe once more, you felt a pair of hands gently grasping at your hips as a warm body pressed to your back. 

“Hello to you too,” you murmured softly, not looking back, though you leaned into Farah’s embrace easily. 

“I was wondering if you may require an assistant.” Warm lips pressed to your shoulder and you sighed contentedly. 

“Always, when said assistant is you.” 

Farah moved easily to your side and, knowing that preparing the meat was your least favourite part of cooking, she took it upon herself to carry out the task. You watched for a moment as she began cutting the steak into strips, dusting each in a light layer of flour before laying them on a side plate. A soft smile pulled at the corner of your lips and you leant in to press a kiss to Farah’s cheek before turning back to the chopping board. 

A moment passed in comfortable quiet. Moving around each other was like second nature and there was no need for fuss or noise. It was only as the song that had been issuing from the speaker drew to a close and the next began to work itself up in pace that Farah spoke once more: “So, meeting our daughter’s boyfriend… are you feeling as old as I am all of a sudden?” 

Chuckling, you glanced over at her, watching as she attempted to brush a curl of hair from her face without getting flour all over herself. “You are aware that you’ve met Sky before, right?” 

“We both have, but never in this capacity.” 

It was true that, though Farah knew Sky far better than you, the dinner that he would be attending at your home that night would be the first time that either of you had spent with him in the capacity of someone with romantic intentions towards your child. It was a foreign feeling to be the parent of someone old enough to be pursuing their own romantic interests and, in truth, you were unsure how you felt about it. 

“I’m not sure I’d say I feel old,” you started after a moment, considering the question that had been put to you. “It is strange to think that our tiny little baby is at the age of having such large emotions though.” 

Hearing a hum in response, you glanced over to find Farah watching you. “I’m not sure either of us will ever grow used to how quickly the time has passed, though I understand that it is different for me, having experienced it.”  

Your heart clenched a moment at hearing the slight ache in Farah’s voice as she spoke. Leaning closer, you placed several soft kisses on her cheek. “I can only imagine it is, my love.” 

You let your hand travel the length of her back before you resumed your task, your fingers lingering momentarily at her neck before you forced yourself to pull away, “I suppose we should be happy as long as Bloom is happy but..” Your voice trailed off, unsure of how to transfer your feelings into words.

“But she’s our daughter and you aren’t ready for her to grow up just yet,” Farah finished for you as she dried her hands, having finished with the beef. 

“Exactly.” 

The two of you continued in comfortable silence, neither wanting to discuss the upcoming dinner with your daughter and her boyfriend much, lest you unwittingly add pressure to a situation that was already much anticipated. You found you didn’t mind, the music in the room starting to brighten your mood, and you let your hips sway ever so slightly as the beat started picking up. 

“Darling, could you get the large Le Creuset out of the cupboard, please?” You asked Farah, knowing she could reach it more easily than you with her height. 

Everything was diced and ready to be sautéed, and you opened a bottle of your favourite red wine and poured two glasses before handing one to Farah. She took it with an appreciative smile and you clinked your glass carefully against hers. “Cheers, love. To our first dinner as in-laws.” 

Farah let out a laugh. “Oh god, that’s mortifying,” she murmured between laughs before taking a careful sip of her wine and humming at the taste. 

As you recovered from laughing you heard one of Beyonce’s new songs replacing the previous one - a beat to it that made you want to move to its rhythm. Your gaze met Farah’s, a playful look flashing in her eyes, and before you could even begin to wonder what she was up to she’d flicked some flour in your direction.

“Farah!” You exclaimed in surprise and just managed to step out of the way, the flour now dusting the oak floor. 

Her eyes gleamed with mirth and you couldn’t help but be affected by her playful mood. Raising an eyebrow at her, you took a couple of steps towards the counter under the guise of dancing and before Farah could move out of the way you threw a handful of flour towards her. Flecks of white dusted the floor and counter, the powdery white flour hitting Farah square in the chest, and with its impact it covered her chin, dots of white marring her normally immaculate face. 

You tried to keep a straight face, your teeth sinking into your lower lip in an effort to hide your growing grin. Your cheeks ached with the effort of holding your composure and, only seconds later, you were doubled over in laughter at her appearance, gripping the counter for balance.

Much to your surprise, Farah’s own grin morphed into a stern look and she narrowed her eyes as she took a slow step towards you. “Oh, you are in trouble now.” One moment she was motionlessly studying you and in the next she pounced towards you. You could only let out a squeal as you darted away, running around the kitchen island to avoid her grasp. 

Your eyes remained fixed on Farah as you both flanked the counter, her fist clenched around the white flour which had begun to paint your kitchen in the snow covered visage of Narnia. She was poised to dart in either direction with no clear tell hinting at which direction she would choose. Then aided by her height, her legs longer than yours, she had darted to the left and quickly moved closer than you would’ve liked. Turning your head to see, she opened her palm and blew. In seconds a cloud of white had enveloped you and there was nothing you could do to avoid it. A moment later it looked as though you’d just entered a blizzard, your hair and shoulders dusted with flour as you shielded your eyes from potential blindness. 

Emerging from the rapidly dispersing cloud, Farah’s arms grasped around your waist, pulling you towards her, and you laughed as she tickled your sides. Your hands came to rest against her shoulders and she pinned you against the counter, ceasing tickling you in order to let you breathe. Gasping for air, you took in her appearance: white flour covering her chest and parts of her face; her hair slightly messy from chasing you; hazel eyes blinking at you intently through flour dotted eyelashes. She couldn’t have been more beautiful. Unable to help yourself, you reached up to cup her face with your hands, not caring about the flour between you. Leaning in you kissed her softly, her lips tasting of red wine and something distinctly her. Farah hummed her approval softly, the hands at your waist gripping you just a little more closely. Several soft kisses later, you pulled away to regard her. 

“I suppose we should finish dinner and clean up?” You chuckled as you brushed some flour from Farah’s cheek. 

She sighed, her gaze soft now as she smiled. “I suppose so.”

-

It felt as though you were meeting Bloom’s parents all over again – the sensation of the nerves creeping up inside you, an invisible hand poised at your throat, making you pace the kitchen in an attempt to remain calm. This time, however, your feelings were mixed; yes, the nerves were there, but a sense of protectiveness dominating everything else, fuelled by the anxiety of what it meant that your daughter had allowed a boy to grow so close to her heart. 

You’d only met Sky in and around the school, passing him in the hallways on occasion and often only sharing a word or two in classes that you shared with Saul. Sky seemed a nice enough boy - very handsome and polite, though you were not at all willing to accept him at face value. You remembered from your own time at Alfea as a student that the handsome boys were often the ones to look out for: arrogant types who could be found strutting around the school as though they owned the place. It wasn’t the impression you’d gotten of Sky, but you never knew what he was up to when you weren’t watching, or when Bloom wasn’t around him. 

Warm hands settled on your shoulders as you mused on your anxieties, swiftly followed by a soft kiss to the corner of your mouth. “It will be alright, darling.” Farah regarded you with patient eyes, her hands running down your arms, grasping your hands and holding them between her own. “Sky isn’t like the specialists we remember from our time.”

“How is it that you always know what I’m thinking even without the use of your magic?” You sighed, feeling silly.

Chuckling softly, Farah leant in to kiss you more firmly on the lips this time. “I know you,” she responded matter-of-factly. Her grip on your hands tightened momentarily then. “We have to trust Bloom’s judgement on this and allow her to be happy.”

You stared at her for a long moment, considering her words, shocked at how calm she was. This was a big change for you both, yet somehow Farah seemed to shoulder it with such ease. She truly never ceased to amaze you. “You’re right. We need to trust her.”

Farah nodded slowly, a reassuring smile pulling at her lips. Leaning in for another kiss, she stepped away from you to set the table. 

The next half hour flew by and, just as you were placing a jug of iced water on the table, the doorbell rang and Farah swept past you to open it with you close on her heels. As the door swung open it revealed the pair shoulder to shoulder: Bloom in a pretty green dress of airy material, perfectly suited to the hot weather, whilst Sky wore a blue suit. You had to stifle a snort at the sight of him, his cheeks pink and a light sheen of sweat just visible along his brow; you could only imagine how suffocating the choice of dress must have been for the poor boy.

“Moms!” Bloom exclaimed brightly as she entered into the hallway, your heart leaping at hearing her address you so casually. She hugged Farah first and it warmed your heart to see how relaxed Farah’s posture was as she held her daughter momentarily.

“Hello sweetheart.” You muttered as she embraced you, kissing her cheek. 

Sky remained standing on the doorstep, the fingers of his right hand tugging at his tie as he attempted to look as though he belonged. “Oh come in, Sky!” Farah smiled at him, indicating into the entrance hall with a hand, no doubt trying to ease his nerves. 

The tight expression on his face only twitched slightly into a small smile. He nodded at her, brushing a hand through his blonde hair. Suddenly he stood facing you and a rush of sympathy washed over you at seeing how nervous he was. The boy held out a hand as though to shake yours and you felt your features pull into a sympathetic smile. “It’s nice to finally have you here, Sky.” You patted his upper arm for a moment before taking his hand and holding it between both of your own, rejecting the formal greeting in favour of one more suited to the occasion. “We don’t bite, you know,” you teased lightly. “Well, not the guests, anyway.” 

Sky let out a slightly forced laugh, nodding his head in understanding. You felt bad for the poor boy - even humour didn’t seem to be easing the tension in him much. Taking pity on him, you ushered him further down the hallway where he followed Farah’s lead into the dining room, catching up with Bloom and positioned himself at her side. 

You watched them for a moment, taking in how grown Bloom looked and how at ease she appeared by Sky’s side. The smile on her face was luminous as she met your gaze. You could only return it, as your own gaze shifted to meet Sky’s and you gave him a sympathetic look.

It was obvious that Sky had chosen his attire to make a good impression, but as he sat in his chair it was clear how uncomfortable he was. Pulling at his sleeves, he seemed to be trying to find a way to get air to his skin whilst remaining the picture of a young gentleman. You would have laughed had you not felt so bad for him. “Sky, aren’t you awfully hot with a jacket on? It’s about thirty degrees outside!”

For a moment you worried you’d made things worse, the boy’s eyes darting nervously down to his suit, but then Sky laughed - naturally this time - and rubbed the back of his neck as he nodded. “Bad timing to make a good first impression really,” he smiled as he removed his jacket with a relieved sigh, clearly taking your question as an invitation to get more comfortable. 

Bloom rolled her eyes but a grin tugged at her lips. “I tried to tell him, but he really wanted to dress up.” 

“We appreciate the effort Sky, but it isn’t as though this is your very first visit - you’ve been in this house before. You certainly didn’t wear a suit the first time.” Farah chimed in as she entered the dining room to join you. She indicated with her hand towards the table and the four of you sat down.

“That was a long time ago, Ms. Dowling,” he said politely, adjusting his jacket as it hung on the back of his chair.

Bloom seemed to be taking in the news that her boyfriend had been here before, presumably attempting to figure out when and why such an instance could have occurred. In truth, you too were curious about such questions. You had assumed that Farah would have been a part of Sky’s life as he grew, with Saul being so influential in the boy’s upbringing, but you hadn’t imagined him actually visiting her at home. 

Bloom looked first at Sky, then at Farah, curiosity lighting her gaze. “You’ve been here before?” she asked Sky. He blushed lightly but said nothing. “Has he been here often, Mom?”

Farah narrowed her eyes for a moment as though trying to remember. “If I recall correctly, Sky was about five the first time he visited.” She paused for a moment, considering. “It was a day as hot as it is now actually and he wasn’t too keen on wearing any clothes at all at the time.”

In an instant Sky’s blush deepened until his entire face glowed scarlet. Dropping his eyes to the surface of the table, he seemed reluctant to meet anyone’s gaze. Bloom, on the other hand, was laughing so hard that tears had begun forming in the corners of her eyes. You couldn’t help but chuckle along with her, the sound of her laughter music in your ears. 

“I’m glad you all find me so amusing,” Sky said eventually, his own chuckle joining the joyous melody that had been struck up around the table - thankfully it didn’t seem as though he took offence to having his childhood antics laid out for all to see. It was a blessing - many would have taken such an outing rather less well.

To your slight surprise, Farah reached across the table and patted his hand gently. The act was more familiar than you had been expecting but you tried your best not to allow the shock to show on your face. “It was adorable, really.” She smiled fondly at him. “You were adorable.” Despite the surprise, the sight of such ease between them warmed your chest and an easy atmosphere settled over your little group - finally it felt as though the tension had broken. 

“It seems I’m at a disadvantage here,” You chimed in after a moment, catching Sky’s eye across the table. “I can’t say I know you very well, Sky. Do you have any hobbies? What are your favourite classes at Alfea?” The questions seemed to spill out of you before you could stop yourself. Laughing, you quickly added. “Sorry, that sounded a bit like an interrogation. I didn’t mean it like that at all.” A blush tinted your cheeks though you refused to let your embarrassment show beyond that point. 

Farah turned towards you, an eyebrow arched and an amused look in her eye.

“No it’s… it’s fine,” Sky started, resting his forearms on the table as he looked over at you. “As you say, we haven’t really had much of a chance to talk.” He seemed to study you for a moment, getting a sense of you before he spoke again. “I spend most of my time training really - I’m sure you know that feeling - but I have a soft spot for riding the wild horses in the fields around Silva’s place.” 

You felt your smile soften as the image of Sky taking Bloom out on horseback crossed your mind. She’d look so right on a horse, wearing a flowing dress with her hair caught up in a gentle breeze. You hoped that Sky would do something like that for your girl - treating her like a princess; after everything Bloom had been through it truly was what she deserved. 

After a short pause Sky continued: “as to favourite classes, I’m a typical specialist I’m afraid. I’ll take any chance to train with a real weapon, not that Silva allows for that all that often.” 

Chuckling, you nodded your head in understanding. There had been many years as a student when you had felt much the same. Training with wooden swords was all well and good, but nothing compared to the feeling of a blade in your hands, knowing that the life of your opponent could be snuffed out so easily should that be the required outcome. You didn't necessarily like taking lives, but when there was no other option you did take some pride in the skill you held in the artform. 

“The bond a specialist has with their weapon is much greater than most realise,” you commented. As you spoke you saw Sky’s eyes light up, pleased at finding you understood. “I used to long for the opportunities to train with a blade too, though I think we both know why it cannot be the standard in classes. Too many of your classmates are reckless and overconfident.” 

“That’s fair,” Sky smiled. “I’m fond of paired lessons with the fairies too, of course. Not that we get those very often either. That demonstration that you both gave the other day was inspirational. I’ve never seen a pairing like it.” A light blush bloomed along your cheeks and your gaze slipped over to Farah as you felt her hand come to rest on your thigh. “Can I ask, how does that work? Bonded pairings?” 

Farah’s eye caught yours and you felt a light shiver down your spine at the connection there. It was a fair question though an exceedingly personal one. Truthfully, you were unsure how to answer it appropriately given that it was your daughter’s paramour who had asked. 

“Tell you what,” Farah said, squeezing your thigh lightly before lifting herself from her seat, “let’s get dinner on the table and settle down to eat. If you really want to know after that I’m sure we can explain most of what the bonding process encompasses.” 

Dinner was served and conversation turned lighter for the duration. Sky was enthusiastic with his praise of your cooking, almost to the point that you began to question his sincerity, though you knew deep down that he was likely trying just a little too hard to show his appreciation. Farah questioned Sky’s plans for after his graduation from Alfea whilst you were more interested in his life growing up and the kind of man that growing up around Saul had turned him into. To his credit, Sky answered every question put to him with calm consideration and honesty. By the time the meal was over you had begun to feel much more at ease with the idea of the boy dating your daughter; despite your earlier concerns, Sky seemed to be a mature and well rounded boy with a good head on his shoulders, if one that was a tad impetuous and hot headed on occasion. 

As you rose to clear the table you were surprised to find that Bloom too had lifted herself from her seat, taking both her plate and Sky’s into her hands. Farah also appeared shocked, her eyebrows raised as she appraised her daughter. “Bloom, I can do that. You really don’t have to…” 

Farah’s words were cut off as the girl shook her head stubbornly. “It’s fine Mom, I want to help. You just sit there and keep chatting - Mom and I can handle this, right?” Bloom turned to you expectantly and your gaze darted to meet Farah’s, both of your faces sporting expressions of bewilderment. 

Shrugging, you nodded your head. “That’s you told,” you chuckled, leaning in to press a kiss to Farah’s forehead before retreating to the kitchen with Bloom following just behind you. 

“So?” Bloom’s wide, expectant eyes looked into yours and you couldn’t help but reach out to brush her cheek with the back of your hand, smiling fondly at her.

“Sky?”

Bloom nodded eagerly as she started placing the plates into the dishwasher, her gaze never leaving yours.

Opening a drawer to get some cling film, you smiled at her. “I think…” You paused for a moment, waving the roll of cling film in the air whilst you were searching for words. “I think I like him - he seems to really care for you and that’s all that matters to me.”

Straightening, Bloom stepped around the open dishwasher and flung her arms around you. You let out a surprised “oh” before tightening your arms around your daughter too, the clingfilm hanging limply from one of your hands. Your heart swelled with pride and love - Bloom’s happiness seemed to seep to you as she embraced you tightly.

The dishes were cleared away, Bloom making several trips into the dining room to retrieve the rest before bringing them to you. The leftovers were wrapped in containers and cling film and, by the time you were done, the kitchen looked almost as pristine as ever. With your heart feeling light and warm, you made your way back into the dining room with Bloom just a step behind you. As you crossed the threshold you couldn’t help but turn around briefly to look at your daughter and she flashed you a grin which you returned. 

“- I just think it’s important to have a certain idea of what you are going to do, that’s all.”

Your stomach dropped at the almost severe tone of Farah’s voice and you instantly missed the lightened mood you’d felt just moments ago. The atmosphere in the room seemed to mirror the feeling in the pit of your stomach, the very air humming with the tension filling it. Lowering yourself into the chair next to Farah, you glanced over at Sky whose shoulders seemed more set than they were when you and Bloom had retreated into the kitchen. 

Hoping to disperse some of the tension, you cleared your throat, choosing a neutral topic, wanting to steer the conversation in a different direction. “Do you drink tea or-”

“Seeing as you will be graduating first, I’d like to know your intentions towards Bloom. You never know what will happen once you leave Alfea and I don’t want to see Bloom left heartbroken by a boy who will swan off into the world and forget about her with any kind of ease.”

You turned in your seat, staring at Farah in shock as she cut you off. Where had this all come from? Had she not been the one saying that you had to trust Bloom’s judgement? You hadn’t imagined things would take this turn - it had been so lovely at dinner. Completely baffled, you were unable to find the words to reestablish a calm atmosphere and before you could respond you heard a chair scraping harshly across the floor, making you jump slightly. 

Despite having only just seated herself, Bloom was now standing, her features hardened into an expression somewhere between shock, disbelief and anger. Her eyes threatened flames and her hands stretched at her sides as though she were avoiding allowing them to ball into fists. 

Panic settled in your chest as you realised the damage that could come from this and, following Bloom’s lead, you rose as well in the hopes of trying to diffuse the situation. Despite your hopes, however, one glance at Bloom’s face told you that your daughter’s mind was set - she was leaving.

“Come on Sky, we’re going.”

Sky seemed caught between his girlfriend and wanting to make a good impression on her parents. His eyes flicked from Farah to Bloom a few times before he allowed them to rest on you and, with an apologetic shrug, he followed Bloom out into the hallway. It seemed the girl couldn’t get out of there fast enough and you had to admit you couldn’t blame her.

Taking long strides to catch up to them, you managed to stop them at the doorstep. “Just a minute.” For a moment Bloom looked as though she would keep walking, or perhaps turn on you, all of her effort seemingly focused on keeping her temper at bay. Just as she was about to reach for the door handle, however, Sky’s hand came to rest on her shoulder and she paused. You watched them sympathetically for a moment, feeling your own chest ache as you watched the lovely evening that you had been having beginning to slip away before your eyes. “Please, just give me a moment.”

Sky waited patiently, a small smile turned in your direction, whilst Bloom stood with her arms crossed, looking as though she wanted to be anywhere else at that moment. To her credit she remained still, though you were not convinced that she was doing so for you. 

Letting out a deep sigh, you managed to separate yourself from your own shock before continuing. “I’m sorry, Sky.”

He started waving off the apology immediately, but you persisted, not allowing him to finish. “Farah is very protective of Bloom. Perhaps, sometimes, she can be a little over protective.” You let your eyes travel to Bloom’s and found that her gaze softened somewhat, though her arms remained crossed. “With everything we’ve been through… everything that’s happened…  it’s her way of trying to make up for the lost time and the guilt we’ve both felt for our failure in keeping Bloom safe the first time she was threatened. In this instance, it may just have come across as unnecessarily harsh.”

Sky uttered your name, his voice understanding. When you met his gaze you found only a reassuring light there. “It’s fine, really.” He smiled at you then, “I’m glad Bloom has such loving and protective parents.” 

Grinning, Sky extended his hand to shake yours. You waved it away and opened your arms instead, patting his back as he stepped into your embrace. “I can tell you care for her,” you whispered into his ear as you parted.

“Very much,” he whispered so that only you could hear.

Bloom’s reluctance was clear as she took a step towards you and, despite herself, the anger she’d been holding onto a moment ago seemed to dissipate as she fell into your arms, her head resting on your shoulder. “Talk to her, will you?”

You kissed her temple as she stepped away. “Of course sweetheart.”

For a moment you remained standing in the doorway, watching as the pair walked hand in hand against the backdrop of the setting sun and you slowly felt your own anger flare at Farah for having ended the evening so abruptly. 

When you entered the dining room a moment later Farah was gone. Turning the corner, you found her in the kitchen scrubbing an already clean counter. Immediately, your anger ebbed away and was replaced with an ache in your chest. You could tell she was more angry with herself than you could ever be. Her posture was stiff, her grip on the cloth in her hand like a vice, and you longed to take away all that troubled her.

Approaching her carefully, you positioned yourself directly behind her and pressed your body into hers, letting your arms rest at your sides rather than embracing her. You knew she sometimes preferred not to be touched when she was angry, but you couldn’t leave her now- not when she was struggling like this. 

“Tell me what just happened?” 

When Farah didn’t respond you reached out in front of her to still the movement of her hands. She continued despite your efforts to halt her, too frustrated with herself to stop. It hurt your heart to see her like this. 

“Enough,” you commanded softly into her ear.

It took several long moments before she finally allowed herself to stop and she slammed the palm of her hand onto the counter as she did so, channelling her anger into something that she couldn’t hurt. You didn’t flinch - no matter the rage she was feeling you knew that she was no threat to you. Gently, you turned her towards you as you reached for a towel to dry off her hands, your movements slow and soft. You had learned long ago that, with an angry Farah, you needed to approach her like a wounded animal so as not to rile her.

Taking Farah by the hand, you led her to the living room and guided her down onto the sofa. She flopped down into the cushions, her head falling back, and she stared up at the ceiling, dragging her lip between her teeth. You settled yourself next to her, your arm along the headrest as you allowed your fingers to carefully thread through her hair. 

Farah’s eyes fell shut and she let out a sigh. “I don’t know why I did that,” she admitted in a small voice, her eyes opening as she lifted her head slightly to meet your gaze.

“You are protective of our daughter.” You stated simply before leaning down to kiss her shoulder.

“I could have dealt with it differently.”

“Yes, you could have.” Pausing, you watched Farah for a moment as her eyes searched yours. “You’ll need to talk to her. She was quite cross.” 

“Ugh.” Farah let her face fall into her hands, frustrated with herself.

“I love you.”

Farah scoffed in response and you moved to sit on the coffee table to face her. Taking her wrists in your hands, you forced her to meet your gaze, fixing her with a soft look. “You may not have gone about it the right way darling, but you are no different from any other protective parent in the history of ‘daughters bringing their romantic partners home’.”

Nodding slowly, Farah straightened on the sofa. Your words seemed to make some impact in calming her and for that you were grateful. “I’ll speak to her tomorrow and apologise - perhaps to Sky too,” she grimaced, “if Bloom will let me.”

You chuckled, winking at her. “You’ll have to ask nicely”.

A few moments passed and you just regarded each other, Farah’s hazel gaze growing soft, the frustration that was so apparent minutes ago seeping away with every intake of breath. Without another word, you straddled her lap and looked down at her. Farah reached up and cupped your face gently in her hands. 

“How did I ever get so lucky..?” Her voice trailed off as though she got lost in you, unable to find words.

“I ask myself that every day, my love.”

Leaning down, you met her lips in a hungry kiss as though she was the air you needed to breathe. Farah’s lips were soft yet demanding against yours, her arms tightening around your waist pulling you impossibly closer. This was everything, she was everything, the daughter you shared – it was the life you couldn’t have imagined you’d ever have. No matter what, this was your world, now and always.

Chapter Text

The room was quiet, only the ticking of a clock on the far side of the room and the scratch of Farah’s pen on the paper before her breaking through the silence in her office. The day had been long, drawn out by the solitude that had consumed her as she worked through paperwork in an attempt to complete it before the end of the year. Despite her determination to make a dent in the seemingly endless piles of forms and letters which lined her desk, however, Farah had found her mind wandering from the task at hand on more than one occasion. It was at such a moment when she found herself laying her pen down neatly on the desk before her, her fingers reaching for the polished brass handle that was affixed to the drawer in her desk.

It was the third time that day that Farah had opened the drawer of her desk and stared at the tiny blue box sitting amongst the various trinkets and objects that she had collected over the years. Paperweights, pens, crystals and a plethora of other bric-a-brac was cluttered around the delicate little box, yet Farah’s focus was never drawn from the object. As she gazed down, a beam of sunlight streamed in through the window behind her and blanketed itself over the open drawer, making the objects glimmer and casting their reflecting lights onto the little box. It felt to Farah as though the magic of the earth was drawing her closer to her goal, yet still the time was not quite right. 

Allowing her thumb to travel along the velvety soft fabric of the box, Farah’s mind wandered to you and she sighed, agonising over how she would ever be able to plan it all perfectly. It seemed impossible that there could exist a way of asking which would be worthy of you. For as long as Farah could remember, she had dreamt of being able to spend the rest of her life with the person who mattered more to her than she could put into words. She had truly found everything and more in you - more than a partner and lover - her equal in every way. The mother to her daughter. 

Her daughter - Farah couldn't have picked a worse moment to have put a strain on her relationship with Bloom. She had been thinking of her proposal to you for a long time and from the start it had become clear to her that Bloom should somehow be involved. It wasn’t clear to her how Bloom would be a part of the moment, but she knew she wanted her daughter there. Perhaps it could be a secret the two of them shared - at the moment though, she doubted Bloom would be very interested in hearing anything Farah had to say.

A multitude of emotions were stirring within her and all Farah wanted was to collapse into the arms of her love, your soothing voice telling her it would all be alright. The truth was, she felt ashamed most of all. Prior to having Bloom and Sky over for dinner she had felt perfectly alright with their relationship, her emotions entirely set on feelings of happiness for Bloom and the relationship which she seemed to be building. Farah couldn’t explain why it had all shifted so dramatically and what had caused her to treat Sky so unfairly. The overwhelming need to protect her daughter had taken over all reason and, before she had been able to stop herself, the words were falling from her lips and she simply couldn’t take them back. Farah would have laughed had it not been for the fact that she’d hurt Bloom’s feelings so badly.

Allowing her face to fall into her hands, Farah let out a heavy sigh. She couldn’t stand the idea of her daughter being so angry with her. Glancing up at the wall to see the time, she wasn’t at all surprised to see the minutes had barely passed in the moments of her silent contemplation. There were ten more minutes to go until the school bell rang to let the students out of class, so Farah decided to get herself ready rather than trying to do more work. 

A short while later Farah found herself standing in the corridor outside of Bloom’s classroom, like a mother waiting for her young child to escort them home from school. But I am a mother, Farah had to remind herself - her chest swelling with pride. Smiling, she realised she hadn’t ever ceased feeling like a mother: not when she had believed she’d lost her family forever, and not now, when she had disappointed her daughter so much that it hurt. 

The school bell rang and Farah’s gaze shot up to fix on the door in anticipation of Bloom emerging. Groups of four and five students spilled out of the classroom all at once and Farah worried for a moment that she might miss Bloom in the throng of people. The moment her eyes fell onto the auburn hair that was so much like her mother’s, however, Farah’s heart skipped a beat and she didn’t wait a moment before making her way closer.

“Bloom?” 

The girl looked up but barely reacted, seemingly wanting to follow her friends out of the corridor and onto the school grounds. 

“Bloom,” Farah repeated and it took nearly all of her effort not to command her daughter to stop - she was here as her mother, not her teacher, and she wanted Bloom to choose to speak to her. Forcing a conversation would only make the girl’s anger burn hotter, like the flame that lived within her.

Though Bloom’s back was now to her, the girl halted and seemed to hesitate for several long moments before finally turning to face her mother. Blue eyes churned like an angry sea in Farah’s direction. She could see the tension in Bloom’s shoulders and the way that the girl’s hands tightened into fists before loosening again, as though she could not decide if she wished to lash out at the ambush or not. 

Farah cleared her throat at the unexpected lump there, suddenly nervous now that she was faced with the reality of repairing the damage that she had inflicted on this relationship. “Walk with me?” She gestured with her arm, holding it out in front of her for a moment. 

Bloom hesitated, the cogs of her mind seemingly whirring as she considered her options. Softening her expression further, Farah sighed, her eyes downcast as she muttered a barely audible, “please.” With a slight nod Bloom relented, though her gaze remained stern as she followed at Farah’s side. 

For a moment they walked in silence, Farah glancing discreetly at her daughter whilst Bloom’s eyeline remained dead ahead. Sensing Bloom wasn’t about to start the conversation, Farah led them out onto the school grounds by a side door that would keep them away from the students still lingering after class. Without exchanging words, she took Bloom to a bench beneath a birch tree, just past the specialist training grounds. The area was deserted and there was nothing but the gentle breeze in the air and a soft twittering of birds filling the space between them. 

Sitting down, Farah patted the seat next to her and gave Bloom an imploring look. Bloom stood with her arms crossed and, for a moment, Farah believed she might change her mind and walk away. But, to her immense relief, eventually the redhead flopped down onto the bench next to her, still without giving her a second glance. 

Farah would’ve been lying if she were to say that such a cold reception from her child didn’t sting, but she pushed the feeling away, turning slightly in her seat to face her daughter. “Bloom, I’m so sorry for what I said at dinner.”

Only a slight huff met the words. Bloom didn’t say anything, her gaze fixed somewhere on the horizon where the sunlight was streaming through the thick branches of the fir trees at the edge of the boundary of Alfea. 

“What I said to Sky was unfair and-”

“Unfair?” Bloom stated, her voice level and unwavering. 

The sense of calm in Bloom’s voice was a worse response than any Farah could’ve imagined. She wished Bloom would shout; at least then she could be certain that  her daughter’s anger still burned as it had the other night. The sense of disappointment in Bloom’s response was heart wrenching, especially when Farah knew she was the cause of it. She remained quiet, however, somehow sensing Bloom needed time to form the words she wished to say.

“You were just mean for the sake of it. You’ve only been in my life for about five minutes. It’s not like you really know me.” 

Her daughter certainly knew how to make it hurt. “I didn’t say what I did for the sake of meanness, Bloom.” Farah paused to sigh and was grateful that Bloom didn’t interrupt her. “It was like all the years of loss and anger had accumulated to a point of bursting. I saw how you felt for Sky - what he meant to you - and in the back of my mind the possibility of the hurt that such feelings could cause for you felt all too real. Finally there was something I could protect you from - I could spare you from the heartbreak he could cause. I didn’t see until it was too late that I was the one hurting you.”

Bloom looked over at her then, though her gaze remained hard and difficult to read. For a moment Farah felt pride blossom within her at how much her daughter had learned in the past year. “I was wrong. I know Sky well enough to know he cares a great deal about you. If he says that graduating before you will not change anything then I trust that he means it. All that matters to me is that you’re happy, Bloom.”

Farah reached out to tuck a stray curl behind Bloom’s ear and was surprised when the girl did not bat her hand away. “And, as to not knowing you, I’d like to start getting to know you better… if you’ll let me?” 

Bloom sat up a little straighter and ruffled her hair, as though in protest of Farah’s previous touch - rebelling against her mother’s comfort. Another moment passed and Farah remained seated next to Bloom, watching the way that her daughter’s emotions clashed within her mind. For a moment Farah thought that perhaps she saw a softening in Bloom; then, abruptly, the moment was broken. Bloom stood up and, for the first time since they had sat down, paused to meet her mother’s gaze. The look in Bloom’s eyes was once again stern and Farah was surprised to notice she recognised her own stare there. “Whatever.” 

Slightly surprised, Farah remained seated as she watched Bloom walking away from her with determined steps, as though worried that her mother would try to follow her. Farah found herself puzzled - she had been so sure that her apology would be enough to have gotten through to Bloom; she had been certain that she had made herself understood whilst attempting to say how she truly felt, that she was happy as long as Bloom was. For a moment, as she had tucked Bloom’s hair behind her ear and the girl didn’t pull away, she believed it all to be alright and that Bloom would forgive her. How could she have been so wrong?

Letting out a deep sigh, Farah felt as though she had somehow managed to make the situation deteriorate and that they were now worse off than when they had started. Frustrated, she let her thoughts drift to her love and wished she could be wrapped up in the embrace that could make her feel better no matter what.

-

The moment you reached for the teapot you knew it was a mistake – a sharp pain shot through your back and you let out a gasp, every muscle in your body tensing as you lifted your free hand to your shoulder. Though you had managed to build back much of your strength from before Rosalind’s magical interference in your life, you had recently found that you were injuring yourself far more easily nowadays than ever before in your life: a sprained wrist when you got the angling of a parry just a touch out of place; a crick in your neck from sleeping at an odd angle. The strain on your back that had now apparently travelled to your shoulder was just the icing on a very unpleasant reality check: you were getting old and it sucked! 

Just as you were lowering your arms slowly, trying to keep from hurting yourself any further, Farah walked through the front door, her eyes searching you out almost immediately. Very stiffly, you turned around and expected to be met with her warm smile. As soon as your eyes met hers, however, you knew her conversation with Bloom couldn’t have gone well. Defeat and confusion swirled in the rich hazel depths of her eyes with such potency that they shone out like a beacon to you from across the room. Farah’s lips were set in a thin line, tension sitting along her jaw, and as you took her in your heart sank.

“Oh, darling…”

Farah cut you off almost immediately, uttering your name in concern as the preoccupation with her own hard day seemed wiped from her mind. She must have caught sight of the hand clutching your shoulder as she took a few steps closer to you, scanning your form for any other signs of distress. “What happened?”

You would have laughed had you not been all too aware of the pain it would cause. Blindly, you reached for the counter to steady yourself, never taking your gaze from Farah. “I, uh, should’ve rested my back when you told me to,” you admitted sheepishly.

The scolding look that Farah turned on you was enough to make you blush as she shook her head in resignation. “You need to take better care of yourself, sweetheart.” Taking another step closer, her gaze softened and she reached out a tentative hand to catch at your arm gently. “Let me give you that back rub I promised, hm? The tea can wait.”

You could have melted into her right then and there at the offer, but you hadn’t forgotten the look on her face as she’d walked in. Farah was so very good at that - drawing the attention from herself by focusing on you - but you wouldn’t be so easily distracted. “Only if you tell me how it went with Bloom.” When Farah didn’t respond you reached out and gently squeezed her hand.

Allowing her eyes to fall shut, Farah let out a frustrated sigh, her head shaking softly from side to side. “I was so sure that I’d got through to her.” She began, looking as though she herself was unsure of what had happened. “She seemed to be receptive, but then she just shut me down - got up and walked away as though nothing had changed.”

Giving her a sympathetic look, you reached out to brush her cheek. “She didn’t say anything at all?” Your voice was soft and imploring, wanting to know as much as you could about their conversation.

“There were certainly some harsh words. In the end she seemed almost… dismissive.”

When Farah didn’t elaborate you didn’t press any further, sensing that she had no desire to repeat specifically what had been said between herself and Bloom - not at the moment anyway. Instead you whispered a soft, “I’m sorry, my love,” as you leant up to press a gentle kiss to her cheek.

Farah straightened, as though brushing the hurtful words from her memory. “I just have to give her some time.”

You could almost see it happening, those walls that Farah had worked so hard to escape were slowly rising around her once more. Your heart ached to see a mistake impacting her so badly. “You’re allowed to be frustrated, Farah.” Meeting her searching eyes, you went on: “Bloom will come around when she’s ready. In the meantime, be frustrated.”

Farah shook her head slightly but smiled – it was a relief to see. “Right.” She turned towards the stairs, her voice clear in its change of tone: Farah was done discussing the matter. “Back rub.”

A short while later you found yourself laying on your stomach in bed, wearing nothing but your underwear - Farah had been very clear about that in her instructions. The sheets were soft and warm beneath you, the scent of Farah’s hair filling your senses from where your head rested on her pillow. Even now the smell of her alone was enough to have your heart swelling with love for her.

Beside you, the bed dipped as Farah climbed on top of you to straddle your backside, settling herself with a thigh resting at each side of your hips. Without warning a trickle of oil hit the bare skin of your back and your breath caught in your throat, your muscles contracting slightly at the shock. 

“Sorry,” Farah murmured sheepishly, the palms of her hands warming the oil and beginning to dig into your skin, kneading your muscles as though you were made of dough. She pressed with the heels of her hands as she circled out from your spine, putting her weight into the touch. As she drew back once more she switched tactics, squeezing down your sides with the palms of her hands before settling her attentions at your shoulders once more. Letting out a sigh of contentment, you allowed your eyes to fall shut.

For what felt simultaneously like hours and seconds, Farah continued to work the knots in your back, pushing the heel of her palm into your skin and slowly loosening your aching muscles. Her touch was divine and you felt yourself relax more and more with each moment that passed, the tension in your body slowly ebbing away with every stroke or squeeze or drag of her fingers across your skin. Moments seemed to seep into each other, and you found yourself losing track of time, completely consumed by the sensation of your body loosening up. It was only when Farah’s thumb dug into a knot somewhere in your lower back that the chaste noises that you had been making up to that point morphed and you couldn’t help but let out a throaty moan.

“With the sounds you’re making darling, one could easily think I was doing something else entirely.” Farah husked as she lowered her lips to your bare shoulder, placing a soft kiss there. You felt yourself shudder softly at the silk of her voice, pressing back into the ghost of her lips which were no longer there.

From where you lay you could tell that Farah had shifted atop you to sit up again and so you took the opportunity to roll over and face her. She accommodated you easily, lifting on her knees slightly to let you move. Once on your back, you took the opportunity to look at her once more - really look at her - and in an instant the ache in your heart had returned.

Though Farah’s eyes gazed upon you with the love and adoration which you had seen there for so many years, you could tell that she wasn’t entirely there. Her mind was distracted, pulling her from where she sat, perched above you. You could practically see the pulses of her magic darting through her thoughts with every worry; every regret over the situation with Bloom seeming to consume her, though she tried her best to remain present for you.

“My darling,” you cooed softly, lacing your fingers through Farah’s until both of your hands were interlinked. “My poor darling,” you murmured and lifted one hand to your lips to press a kiss to her knuckles. “What can I do to take some of the pain away?” 

Silence settled over you both for a moment, Farah blinking down at you with wide eyes. You watched as her lower lip caught between her teeth and she bit lightly at the delicate flesh there. Frowning your disapproval, you freed your right hand from her grip, shaking your head softly as you caught at her lip and pulled it from where her teeth had held it captive. 

Farah’s shoulders were set in a tense line now, her spine pulling her up to her full height as though she were trying to make herself appear even taller than she already was. It was something that you had only ever known her to do when she was feeling vulnerable or afraid in some way. It made sense that she would feel so at this moment with everything going on with Bloom. You knew that you would do anything to ease the discomfort that had so clearly settled over Farah’s mind as you saw the hurt written in every movement she made - all she needed to do was ask. 

“Tell me what you need sweetheart.” You could tell that she needed the encouragement, her whole posture screaming of her desperate attempts not to give in to her own yearning for comfort. Ever the fiercely independent headmistress, she was still not as skilled at admitting her vulnerabilities as you would have liked. . 

A sound somewhere between a sigh and a huff emanated from deep within Farah and her eyeline dropped from yours momentarily. “You know what I need,” she all but whispered, a light blush touching her cheeks. 

The breath of a laugh expelled itself from you at the petulance in her voice. Farah had never liked admitting when she needed someone else to take the reins for just a moment, but there were times when it was truly what was required. Freedom, peace, a moment to just be, with no responsibility or pressure or fear of failure. Farah needed the permission to allow herself to relax, even just for a short while. 

“I need you to tell me.” 

Sighing, frustrated, Farah leant forwards, her fingers still laced through yours. She pressed her forehead to your own, her eyes slipping shut as she whispered against your lips: “distract me… make me forget, just for a little while.” 

A part of you wanted to smile at the irony, the mind fairy asking for your help to forget. You imagined the curse of Farah’s power was that she could not help herself in times when she wanted to forget any harm that she had caused. For a moment the image of Farah returning from Aster Dell crossed your mind and you felt a lump rise in your throat at the memory. Your closeness had been Farah’s comfort in times of distress for so long that you knew it was what she needed in this moment; you would remain as close as she needed for as long as she needed now. You only hoped it would be enough to calm the thrashing of her unsettled mind. 

Leaning up, you captured Farah’s lips in a gentle kiss, feeling as she melted against you almost instantly. You lifted yourself to sit, Farah perched in your lap and, once you were sitting securely, your hands slid to grasp her arse, pulling her as close as you could get her. Slowly, you slid your hands up over Farah’s hips, gentle fingers skimming over her waist and ribs before coming to cup her face. You kissed her again and again, drinking in the sighs that curled from her parted lips. “I’ve got you, darling,” you murmured, your voice steady and sure. 

Farah practically shuddered at the sound of the words. 

Drawing back you caught her eye briefly, not missing the way that Farah’s fingers had slipped to your waist and were clutching at you, trying to pull you closer still. Smiling softly, you let your own fingers wander to the neck of Farah’s shirt, gently tracing down the line of her sternum until you caught at the first button holding it closed. “Let’s get this out of the way, shall we?” 

The vigorous nodding of Farah’s head was enough to pull a soft chuckle from you and, before you could undo a single button, Farah’s own frantic fingers were dexterously popping each button open until the garment hung loosely around her shoulders. Then you watched as, shedding the garment and adding it to the growing pile of clothing by the side of your bed, Farah also began to unhook the clasps of her bra, leaving it to drop to the ground atop her shirt. 

“That’s my girl,” you purred lightly, smiling in approval and leaning in as you pulled Farah close once more, pressing feather light kisses down the column of her neck. Warm fingers clutched at your back and Farah sighed, though whether the sound had been sparked by your kisses, your closeness or your words of praise, you couldn’t quite tell. 

Knowing that Farah wanted to be distracted from her own mind, you allowed your kisses to roughen just a little, sucking at her neck and collarbone until you heard her breathing above you growing heavier. A devious smirk pulled at your lips as you kissed further down her chest and, leaning in, you drew your tongue over her right nipple, Farah’s back arching into you as your right hand came to rest against the small of her back, pulling her closer still. The sigh that spilled from her lips was stuttered and needy, hazel eyes slipping shut at the feeling of your mouth against her skin. Glancing up, you found Farah’s lips parted and her cheeks flushed. You had always had a soft spot for her like this, softer and more needy than was usual for her. Seeing her in this light only made you adore her all the more. 

“Darling,” you began as you gently pressed a kiss to her sternum, then her left collarbone, “I’m going to need you to be a good girl and finish undressing whilst I get a few things. Can you do that for me?” 

When Farah’s eyes reopened her gaze was hazy and she had to blink once or twice as she tried to comprehend what was being asked of her. There was a hesitance in her body language for a moment as you felt her grip tighten on your body at the thought of being parted from you; the light that sparkled in her eyes once realisation hit, however, was almost excited as she nodded her head. Carefully Farah slipped from your lap and began shedding herself of what remained of her clothing. 

Taking the opportunity, you swung your legs over the side of the bed, bending down to pull open the drawer in your bedside table. Once upon a time, Farah had referred to this particular drawer as your ‘special toy chest’ - the little hiding spot that you had kept for the few favoured sex toys that you had accumulated over the years. Each one was packaged neatly in its own little bag, lined up in rows along with handcuffs and blindfolds, silk ties and even a small flogger that Farah had been particularly fond of in the early days of your relationship. You almost felt spoiled for choice whenever you ventured into the drawer, though today you had a good idea of what you wanted to play with. 

Reaching into the drawer, you pulled out a long silk tie, placing it onto the bed beside you. A moment later you felt the bed dip once more as Farah crawled closer, her breath tickling the back of your neck as she pressed a kiss to your right shoulder blade and then your neck. “You have plans for me?” she murmured, her fingers coming to stroke over the silk tie. 

Smirking, you glanced back at her over your shoulder, finding yourself faced with an expression somewhere between curiosity and arousal. “I know you Dowling - do you think I could forget how best to take care of my girl when she’s in need of comfort and a distraction?” 

Farah only chuckled at that, capturing your lips once more. 

You were gentle as you manoeuvred Farah until she was laying on her back, straddling her waist as she had yours not so long before. You ghosted your fingertips gently over her flesh, first traversing the expanse of her chest before dragging your hands gently down the length of her arms. With each movement you made, you could feel hazel eyes watching you, intent upon remaining present in the moment and, as you threaded your fingers through Farah’s once more, you pressed her arms over her head, feeling the way that she inhaled sharply as your whole body was draped over her own with the movement.

Noses brushing, you ghosted a kiss over Farah’s lips before leaning into her ear, pressing a soft kiss just beneath the lobe. “Are you going to be my good girl tonight?” you purred softly in her ear. “Will you let me take care of you as I see fit?” 

Farah shuddered, her hands flexing in your grasp as she pressed herself up against you. “Please,” she murmured. 

“That isn’t an answer, sweetheart,” you remonstrated. The only response you received was a soft whine. “Please what?” 

Warm lips pressed to the side of your head, your jaw, anything that Farah could reach. She attempted to twist in a way that would allow her to capture your lips once more, but your weight atop her held her in place, and your hands clasping hers kept her from wriggling loose. 

“I need you… need you closer,” Farah huffed out in frustration. You almost wanted to laugh, as though you weren’t almost as close as you could possibly get. 

With one last kiss to her neck you pulled back, reaching to your side to retrieve the silk tie that lay just at the edge of the bed. “Patience, love. Trust me.” 

It had become clear by now that Farah would not be keeping her hands to herself willingly and, briefly, you were impressed by your own foresight when choosing to tie her up. Pulling the silk tie between your hands, you made a show of trailing it over Farah’s skin with each movement, drinking in the way that her eyes fluttered closed and her movements stilled as silk brushed against her wrists. Carefully, you slipped the silk around both wrists, weaving it in intricate patterns and curls, before looping it around a small metal ring, which you had installed on the headboard years before, and securing it in place. When you sat back Farah’s eyes were fixed upon you once more, her lips parted. 

“Is that alright?” you asked. Though this was not an uncommon practice between you, it had been some time since you had last tied Farah up and you worried about crossing boundaries that may not have been there before. 

“More than,” Farah choked out, and it was then that you noticed the flush that had begun to spread over her chest. 

The corners of your lips twitched up into a satisfied smile and you dragged the backs of your fingers down Farah’s cheek, leaning over her with your weight on your free hand in a way that you knew gave you a sense of dominance that made Farah weak. Sure enough, her eyes darkened as they gazed up into your own. 

“Do you feel secure?” you murmured, your tone lower now. 

A nod from Farah, her lips still parted in that pliant way that was slowly causing heat to coil in your stomach. 

“Good,” you purred, “very good. Now what to do with you.” Feigning thought, you trailed your fingers lower: grazing a collarbone; ghosting over a breast; tweaking a nipple. Farah gasped, her back arching into your touch. “So much I can do with you in this position, my love.” 

Curious fingers continued their descent, stroking over the gentle curve of Farah’s stomach before catching at her hip. Her thighs parted almost imperceptibly, but you felt the movement, a cheshire grin curling over your features at her eagerness. “Where would you like me?” 

You watched as Farah’s chest trembled slightly with the effort to take a breath. Her cheeks were flushed the prettiest shade of pink and you so wanted to lean in once more and kiss her breathless. “Closer… please.” The words were practically a whine at this point and you couldn’t suppress a sigh - Farah hadn’t needed you like this since before everything had happened. It was almost enough to shatter your heart entirely. 

“Alright darling,” you whispered, lowering your hand between her thighs as you all but lay entirely atop her. 

The sound that spilled from Farah’s lips as your fingers slipped against her folds was almost a sob and you immediately pressed your lips to her own, drinking in each mewl and whine as you set a gentle pace. Dipping down to her entrance you found her wet already, a hum of approval reverberating in your chest as you deepened the kiss. Gradually, your fingers slid back up to her clit and you lazily circled it, feeling as Farah angled her hips to press more firmly into your touch. 

Looking at Farah, you found her eyes squeezed shut, her body arching into you in any way she could. Her chest rose and fell with laboured breaths and her hands flexed in their bonds, as though reaching for you to no avail. 

“Good?” you asked quietly as you quickened the pace of your fingers somewhat. Farah only moaned in response, her back arching against the mattress. “Use your words darling,” you murmured. 

“More.” It was all she could seem to choke out between moans and glazed eyes opened once more in search of you. “Please.” 

You didn’t have to be asked twice. Replacing the fingers against her clit with your thumb, you altered the angle of your hand, gently teasing at her entrance for just a moment before your hips rocked against your hand and you pressed into her slowly. Farah’s eyes all but rolled back into her head, cursing under her breath as her hips rocked towards you and her bound hands clenched into fists. For a moment you paused, allowing her to adjust to the new sensation. 

“More,” came Farah’s breathy plea once more and your lips turned up into a smile as you leaned in to capture hers in another kiss. 

You struck up a steady rhythm as the moments passed, your hips moving in time with the curling of your fingers within Farah. You were pressing into her up to the knuckle by now, swallowing her moans in kiss after kiss, nipping at her lips every so often and feeling as she panted into the space between you when you broke for air. She seemed lost to the sensations of you, yet still she whispered “more.” 

“What more would you have of me, love?” you asked after a moment, your own breath shallow now from the effort of fucking into her with your whole body. Seemingly unable to find the words, Farah’s thighs only pressed around your hips, her eyes opening to glance over to the drawer, still sitting open at the side of the bed. 

Oh. More. You should have known. 

Brushing your nose against Farah’s you gently pulled your fingers from inside her, feeling as she quivered beneath you, almost in protest of the emptiness left in your wake. You chuckled as you ghosted another kiss over her jaw, whispering: “I’ll be right back.” 

You were true to your word. Instinctually, you knew what Farah wanted, what she craved, and you plucked the strap from the draw almost without having to look. It took a moment or two of adjusting to get the object into place, but once it was on, you didn’t dawdle. 

Turning your attention back to Farah you found her watching you, her eyes alight with anticipation. Her thighs were clenched tightly together now as she wriggled in her discomfort and, not for the first time, you wished you could see what she was thinking as she desperately tried to relieve herself without the use of her hands. 

“Was this what you had in mind, darling?” you purred, your fingers carefully tracing the strap around your hip, down, down until you reached the shaft attached to the contraption. 

Farah only nodded, her eyes imploring you to come closer. You felt a wave of need wash over you and quickly realised that it was Farah’s need; her mental walls seemed all to have evaporated in the moment, her emotions projected into your mind and consuming you. 

Re-situating yourself between Farah’s thighs you trailed your fingers down to her centre once more, smirking at the choked groan that the action drew from her. Attentively, you collected her wetness, using it to prepare the toy, before you leaned over the woman you loved once more. Farah’s eyes remained dark with desire as she gazed up at you, though there was a softness to them as well - familiar and comfortable. Though you had intended to tease, the adoration with which the fairy looked at you seemed to lead you to lose yourself momentarily and, without another thought, you felt yourself pressing the toy into her. 

“Fuck!” 

You watched Farah’s eyes rolling back in her head, her back arching as she pressed herself closer to you. Long fingers clutched at silk ties and you allowed yourself to lay your whole body weight atop the other woman, sliding your hands up to grip her own as you struck up a slow rhythm of thrusts. 

Farah’s voice filled the air of the room as a symphony, whispered curses turning to moans and pleas. Her fingers, now woven with your own, gripped your hands for dear life and she buried her face in your neck as you felt her body tightening like a coil beneath you. She was close, you knew all too well, and as you evened out the snapping of your hips into her, you whispered into her ear: “let go darling. I’ve got you… I’ve always got you.”

-

Excitement seemed to bubble within Farah as she stared down at the list laying on the desk in front of her. Having some time to spare that morning, Farah had decided it was time to jot some ideas down on paper - the proposal needed to be perfect. Notes like ‘white roses’ and ‘candle lit room’ jumped out at her and it caused a jolt of nerves to rise within her. It wasn’t as though Farah was worried about your rejection, marriage was something you’d talked about before, but she wanted to go out of her way to make it absolutely perfect. You deserved the world, and Farah wanted to give it all to you. 

Pulling the blue box out of the drawer of her desk once again, Farah opened it to stare at the ring inside. Within its silver band sat a blue sapphire, nestled in amongst a wreath of diamonds of a slightly bigger size. They were like the petals of a flower, blooming just for you, and the ring sparkled in the sunlight as Farah tilted the small box from side to side. She couldn’t help but smile, imagining it on your delicate finger. The ring was the only thing Farah had from her grandmother and she remembered it sitting on her finger many years ago when Farah was a little girl. Though Farah had few memories of the woman, those she could remember were fond. 

Getting lost in the ring and her own thoughts of the proposal, Farah found she suddenly felt your presence. Snapping her gaze up to her office door she recognised your silhouette behind the frosted glass and, with one swift movement, she swept the items on her desk into the drawer and snapped it shut just in time. Standing up from her chair, Farah walked towards the door, not wanting your attention drawn towards the desk - you were very observant and would notice immediately if Farah seemed nervous about something whilst seated there.

“Hello darling,” Farah said fondly, her eyes locking onto yours as you slipped through the door.

A moment passed before Farah noticed the blazing look in your eyes and, before she could even ask, you cradled her face in your hands and pulled her into a searing kiss. Farah found herself being spun and pressed against the door, your lips against hers and your tongue teasing her mouth. The next moment, she felt your deft fingers making their way beneath her blouse and you withdrew your lips for a moment to gain better access. Your hot breath against Farah’s lips made her head spin and she sought them out once again. 

Your hand was now traversing the bare skin of Farah’s waist and it felt as though all thought seeped out of her mind, only to be replaced by hot desire. The moment your thumb brushed her nipple Farah let out a gasp, which was only muffled by your lips. Just as Farah thought she couldn’t take it anymore, you abruptly broke away and took two steps back from her. 

Farah was breathless and stared dumbfounded at you. “I… What…” 

Your arms were crossed as you considered her with a smug smile. “Will you be home in time for dinner?” 

“Yes,” Farah mumbled, not entirely sure what she was saying yes to, her brain having a hard time catching up. 

Clearing your throat, you reached past Farah towards the door. “Right. I’ll see you later then.” 

Even in a slight daze, Farah didn’t miss the triumphant tone of your voice. It took her several long moments before she could form a coherent thought once more, and even then all she could muster was a single line: I cannot wait to call her my wife.