WHO: Eliot Waugh & Fen WHEN: April 28th, after Fen's arrival WHERE: The Physical Cottage WHAT: Husband & wife have so, so much to discuss. WARNINGS/TRIGGERS: Discussion of child death, difficult pregnancy, slavery and body mutilation. Spoilers for season 3 of the Magicians.
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He'd been there the moment they'd let her free. Between seeing her post upon the network, and his arrival at her side, he'd managed to reel in some of the anxiety that he'd been feeling in those initial moments. He'd hid it well on the network, he thought, and mostly played the part of giving her information and answering questions. Things had come out a little quicker than he'd have liked, and in ways he'd have prefered been done in person, but there was nothing else to be done about it. He'd elaborate on those now that he was by her side. He still had an itch to light cigarette after cigarette but he'd purposefully left his cigarette case back in his and Kylo's bedroom. When she'd been released from quarantine, he greeted her with a weak smile, reached out his hand to take hers and then led her to the portal he'd opened nearby.
Upon stepping through, they were in an unfamiliar bedroom that had no personalization done to it. He let her hand go but only because he was suddenly bringing both hands up as he faced the portal. With a few intricate movements, it closed at his command, and then his attention shifted back to her. He held his gaze upon her for a few moments, feeling a swell of a desire to step forward and wrap his arms around her in an embrace, but he stood his ground for the time being. She was ahead of him and he didn't know what that meant for them, other than the clues he'd gathered from the conversations they had just hours before on the network or the information given to him by Margo.
"Are you sure you aren't hungry?" He opted to ask, his hands coming together, so he could fidget with the rings upon his hand in the way he did when he wasn't fully certain of how to act.
It had been strange to feel him reach for her hand, until she realized he probably needed it to take her safely through the portals. Fen missed blue jeans and the comfortable clothing of Earth. Her hair was done up and very stately, her dress heavy and made of fine material, and the crown looked both fitting on top of her head without an ounce of actual authority.
She would have removed it, but given her hair, it required a mirror.
Fen wasn’t unhappy to see Eliot. She wasn’t surprised he had a new lover he was very close to, someone who seemed to be more of his type. Things might have changed drastically and yet her situation was still all too familiar. Still, she smiled for him. It wasn’t a full smile, or a particularly bright one, but it was genuine. For better or worse, he was family and he had shown her nothing but kindness since her arrival.
“I just want to know when you and Margo are coming back, but none of you seem to have an answer. I don’t trust Tick Pickwick not to try something and I don’t know if I’m making the right choices, despite double checking everything, and I just want to make sure you have something to come back to once magic is turned back on. I’m trying, Eliot.”
She sounded exhausted. Not all of it was physical.
He'd taken immediate note of her demeanor when he'd first seen her. His crown sat upon her head and for a moment he had wondered if the one that sat on his dresser in the other room still remained there, or if it disappeared from existence now that it's identical from further along in the timeline had arrived. He supposed that answer would be given to him whenever he did return to the room he shared with Kylo, which he didn't plan on being anytime in the immediate future. He wasn't making plans at the present moment. He turned his wedding ring again and again between his fingers.
"I don't have that answer," he began, with a look that made it clear he was sorry about this. He wished he had that answer for her. "My last memories of the quest were just after we got to New York from the Neitherlands. You and Fray were off with Todd. Margo came, with two of the keys, and she stopped Quentin and I from going into Fillory of the past. Anything after that? I've not lived," he explained, though there was a look of heaviness to him as he said this. As though he knew more even if he hadn't experienced it. "Margo and Fray are further along. I..." he hesitated, "...Fray's told me the truth."
If Fen was from a point where they'd gone off to try and turn back on magic, Fen knew too. "Have we been gone long? Margo and I?"
Fen swallowed. The nice part of being about Acting High King, and stressing about the fate of a small country, was that she didn’t have time or energy to spare in thinking about the very final loss of her daughter. Fen no longer had that luxury.
“A few days,” Fen said, nodding. “I’m.. glad she told you.” Something lit up, and for a moment, when Fen stepped closer, it looked it might lead to something else. Until she started speaking, “There’s something I need to tell you. The Library, they’ve been hunting fairies in Fillory. I tried to stop them but the Fairy Queen made a deal after Julia and I freed the fairies on Earth. She’s sacrificing herself. I tried to postpone them, but the Fairy Queen was more interested in striking a deal that would protect her people than waiting for magic to come back. The Library will be able to power the syphon.”
Fen still didn’t quite understand the nature of the alternate timelines or that there would be nothing she could do to stop events from unfolding as they were supposed to back home.
He noted the response she gave. He didn't like that he was giving her a reminder of that topic, but he was aligning their events. It was crucial to give her what pieces he could, both of what he remembered and what he'd been told. And in watching her, he found himself having a similar response, as he swallowed too. He'd mourned his daughter in those initial days, grief stricken on a boat with no way to really work through it, until he'd pushed it down and tried to keep from thinking about it too much. He'd went along on pointless side journeys to lands of cultural significance and tried to move along. And then the pirates had come, and he'd been injured and Emmeline was gone and Fray arrived and there was just so much.
He swallowed again.
"Margo told me first," he told her, though it didn't necessarily need said. But it gave an indication of how it had played out. Eliot had known by the time Fray arrived. There was to be no pretending at him for Fray.
His hands stopped fidgeting when she stepped closer and they came undone from one another, as he misinterpreted the action. He took a step towards her himself, ready to perhaps embrace her, but then she began to speak. He instead raised an eyebrow as she began. "There was fairies being held prisoner on Earth?" was the first question but more followed with no gap. "Why would the library being hunting fairies? What is a syphon?"
“As slaves,” Fen said. “Humans were cutting up pieces of them to grind up their marrow to make into a powder that gives them magic. Julia and I freed them on Earth and then Fillory gave them full citizenship in order to get the sixth key from the Fairy Queen. Anyway, the Library has been using this powder and they need a lot of it to power their syphon. If they are able to put it into place after magic is turned on, then they’ll have control over magic and who has access to it. But they only have a very limited window of opportunity to do it. You already know about what the Library is planning, but what you don’t know is that the Fairy Queen has the power of fifty fairies, which is most likely what they need in order to get the device to work. What you don’t know is that they’ll likely be waiting now for the moment you turn magic back on.”
Fen looked relieved to be warning him. It was much easier to talk about that than to think about… Except now that she had finished speaking, her thoughts turned to Fray. She had wanted so badly for Fray to be hers. For her daughter to be safe and alive.
Fen looked away, deflating slightly before taking a seat on the edge of the bed. “...It’s kind what you’re doing for Fray.” A beat. “Kylo Ren seems nice.”
"Jesus fuck," he instantly said, with a disgusted sneer crossing over his features. While there wasn't much that was capable of surprising him these days, given everything they'd been through as of late, he hadn't expected her to suddenly tell him that the library was hacking bits of fairy off to get a magical high. He exhaled sharply and brought his hand up to rub at the corner of his eyes, shaking his head. "Great," he mumbled, not out of annoyance at Fen, but with a general tone of such. Nothing could ever go according to plan with them, could it? They'd finally completed the quest and were on their way to obtaining magic again, and the fucking Library was going to put a stop to it going the way they intended.
"We can't do jack shit about it here," he then told her, with a frown, as his hand slipped down. "I appreciate you telling me but...whatever is going to happen at home? We can't stop it," he sounded as though this was something that inherently bothered him and had for longer than just this specific instance.
He then tilted his head, looking at her as she moved to take a seat on the bed. While they hadn't ever been as close as he suspected Fen would have liked, he'd gotten to know her well enough to note the change in her mood. His frown grew but now it was out of concern.
Fray.
He sighed and moved to sit down next to her on the edge of the bed, hands clasping together between his legs. "I couldn't leave her to fend for herself," he told her, as he turned his head and gazed upon her. "And I..." He had resisted fondness for Fray when they'd been traveling together. He'd tried to hard to hold off any type of emotion. He'd failed and finding out she wasn't there didn't take away the fondness that had developed. He sighed, uncertain as to how to put that into words. He had wanted her to be theirs in the end.
But instead of finding the words, he raised an eyebrow at the next statement she gave. "He's anxious as hell," he commented. He could feel the worry radiating off his lover before he'd left his side. He understood the fear. Kylo had been disappointed by so many in his life. Eliot did not want to be another in a long list.
“You’re powerful magicians. Even without magic, I’ve seen what you can do. You’ll think of something. You always do,” Fen said. Margo and Eliot were very clever. Fen imagined it was important to using magic, perhaps why she never had the gift herself.
Her expression softened when Eliot spoke about Fray. She understood. In his position, she would have likely done the same. Her head nodded. When another topic came up, however, she was more than happy not to think too deeply about their loss.
“You told him about us, didn’t you?” Fen said. Kylo Ren was easier to speak out. She had a small, wry apologetic smile. “I don’t see what he has to be anxious about. You can go to him. I’m fine. I’m probably safer here than I am in Whitespire with the Pickwicks.”
"We aren't the only powerful magicians here. There's damn near 300 of us, and yet no one's figured out a way to stop it," he informed her, shaking his head as he did so. "There's an entire branch in that facility that's focused on trying to study it," he tacked on, though he didn't state that he was part of it. He wasn't, after all, because his focuses had been on so many other things. He wanted a way to prevent people being sent back or to willingly summon. Perhaps even willingly send back, for those who didn't wish to stay; but that latter group was certainly not one he'd place himself.
He wanted to tell her more about Fray. He wanted to mention how Fray wanted them to be her parents, even still, but they were speaking about other things now. And he felt a pit in his stomach as he thought about them being parents, even if he'd told Fray he would be her Dad. He wanted to be. But sitting here, beside Fen, and knowing what they'd lost was beginning to make his shoulders feel heavy.
"Eventually," he spoke truthfully. He'd not told Kylo in the beginning. After all, in the beginning, he'd been from just hours after their wedding night. He'd been intent on forgetting Fen entirely. But his past had caught up with him and he'd learned about the pregnancy and the fairy deal and no further updates. Kylo had found out because of his heated reaction to the news and it'd become a rather frequent topic as he tried desperately to get to Fen and save her from the fairy realm.
He blinked, staring at her for a moment. "I've been away from you back home, you've been away from me here, and you're suggesting I go?" It didn't match up with his memories of Fen back home. He knew there was a gap of information because he hadn't been with her as they found out the truth. He didn't know how the truth had changed her views. But before that? He remembered Fen wanting him close by and wanting them to be a family. He didn't know if he could give her everything she wanted, but at the very least, he figured he could give her his company tonight of all nights.
“Eliot,” she said. The air was knocked out of her for a few moments. Fen didn’t mean to leave it at just Eliot but it was harder than she expected to gather her words. “I care about you very much. I’ve…”
Fen tilted her head up. She didn’t expect to cry. She wasn’t crying yet. But she was closer than she thought she’d be. She never thought she’d cry over the Fairy Queen, either.
“...come to know you, and respect you. We’ve been through…” She sighed. “...I know I’m not what you want or who you want. I’ve known it for sometime. I just think at least one of us deserves to be happy. I want you to be with someone that makes you happy.” At that, Fen forced a smile and nodded. He had admitted, not that he would remember, that he had been a shitty husband. Fen wasn’t entirely sure she could say she hadn’t been a shitty wife. “Something has to go right for one of us.
He didn't say a word as his name hung in the air. He hated this feeling of uncertainty. He didn't know what to expect to be the next phrase from her. It was a feeling that he was all too used to since his arrival in Tumbleweed. Whenever someone came from home, they had more information than him and the dynamic had changed. He couldn't presume anything when it came to his friends and loved ones. Sometimes, though they had information he lacked, he found that he could still largely guess how they would respond to whatever he said or did. Others were less so. And as she began again, but the words trailed off, his head tilted to the side, expression slipping as he felt his heart almost sink.
She'd turned her gaze away from him and though there were not tears, he could recall the times he had seen them come. He could recognize the signs of deflection. His fingers flexed, wanting to reach out and take her hand, but he refrained. The way she was analyzing her words, after telling him he was good to go, was giving him even more pause on what was and wasn't acceptable now. Would she even want him to try to give her comfort as simple as taking her hand? He didn't know. He swallowed once again.
'We've been through...'
His head tilted down and he brought in a slow breath. It could have been a reference to damn near anything but he had suspicions of what it meant, and he hadn't been through it at all. Not with her. He'd done it here, badly, and though he had his loved ones, it wasn't the same as her. No one else really would understand the way she did.
He wasn't going to deny her words. She wasn't who he had wanted and he'd made that very clear in the beginning. He wasn't a kind husband in those early weeks, nor a faithful one. He'd not wanted to be in that arrangement even if he'd taken it on out of a duty to save his friends. It had been his 'sacrifice' or what you will. But time had pressed on and while she still wasn't exactly someone he found desirable, she'd slowly become his friend and then his family. He cared about her and that had been true even before they'd left Whitespire on the Quest for the keys.
He exhaled and tilted his gaze back up to her. "You deserved better than me," he said, quietly, and finding that his voice sounded off even to himself. This was something he truly felt. He didn't know if it would have been possible for her, even if she hadn't been promised away generations before, because Fillory wasn't exactly a place where the notion of what someone deserved even began to count. But it didn't mean he felt any less about the subject. "And he does make me happy. More than....I thought possible," he carefully said, because he didn't want to damage her feelings by being too honest about his feelings for Kylo, "but that doesn't mean I'm not going to still be here for you. It was...always part of what he and I discussed," he told her, watching her carefully, and almost as though he were now worried about rejection.
Fen leaned in. Her head didn’t rest on Eliot’s shoulder, he was too tall. But instead, her temple leaned in against his arm and she sighed. There were a lot of complicated feelings to sort through, and now she had more than enough time to find herself buried in them.
“You’re stuck with me,” Fen said. Only this time the words were said with affection instead of the flat, unhappy presentation she’d given earlier in a conversation he couldn’t remember. She smiled, although it didn’t reach her eyes and she blinked away the threat of tears. “We’re family.”
Even if it felt like they’d never have a family again. Fen had mourned. She’d spent over a week, drunk on the downstairs couch in the cottage, angry and bitter. In Fillory, she hadn’t known if they would be a family again. He’d offered her a divorce without thinking about what that would mean for her prospects.
Here, Fen felt she was looking at Eliot in a mirror. It was him, she was just looking at him from a side and position she never expected to be in. Her hand went to his knee and she gave it a gentle squeeze.
His gaze cast down to look upon her head pressed against him. For a moment, he was still, just letting her lean against him as he coped with the position he was presently in. He'd spent damn near a year trying to achieve this very thing. For Fen to be here, in Tumbleweed, at his side; because he'd been given no memory updates or new information and all he had was the belief that she was stuck in another realm and needing him. Then he'd gotten plenty of new information, both from others and his own memories, and he'd known that was no longer the case. But that didn't mean he still didn't want her here. She was his family and he was selfish, wanting his family to be here with him, even if it complicated matters.
He shifted, his free hand coming across to let his hand gently stroke at her hair as she leaned against him.
He felt a twitch of a reaction. A smile from her word choice. "We're a family," he repeated, in agreement, but he hesitated after them. A moment later, he opted for honesty and allowed them to be spoken. "I've missed you," he said, looking down at her. He didn't know if she would believe it. He wouldn't blame her if she did not. But it was the truth. It hadn't been quite that way for most of the time he'd been here in Tumbleweed. For most of it, he just felt a sense of duty and responsibility. But with his memory upgrade? He'd found himself missing her, especially in the wake of things.
Fen smiled, though it didn’t quite reach her eyes. She reached for one of her husband’s available hands and gave it a squeeze, trying to process the words he’d just spoken. There were certainly things she missed about him, but those aspects of the relationship had been gone for quite sometime. She’d tried so hard to make him her husband, but the effort seemed to fall apart the moment he became engaged to Idri. She’d probably tried too hard.
“Eliot, would you…” Fen looked up and with an apologetic smile held up two fingers. “...just say that again two, maybe three more times?”
Because the first time could be denial. But if he said it again it would be real and they were words she had always wanted to hear. Generally there were more important things happening, usually tied to the fate of magic, for her to really be missed.
He wrapped his fingers around her hands once his own had been taken, returning the squeeze. There was a desire to shift, to reach out and pull her into an embrace, but he continued to resist it for now, especially as she began to speak. Instead, he found himself raising an eyebrow between the start of the request and the apologetic smile.
Then there was a slight huff of a laugh. Not because he found it funny at all, but because he'd spent this entire night afraid of how to act in front of her, but that request diminished any concerns he had up until that point. An immediate shift occurred and he dropped her hand so his arms could wrap around her, pulling her into a hug against him, having wanted to do that the entire evening.
He dipped his head down and rested his forehead against her shoulder. "You have no idea," he told her, because it wasn't just being away in Tumbleweed. His freshest memories of home were returning to Fillory, sitting under Margo's wedding arch, and remembering his life at the mosaic; where he'd had promises to himself that he was going to do better by Fen and Fray if he ever returned. Until he came to understand he couldn't think about the life he left behind and that he needed to be in the moment he was in. But that didn't mean that he hadn't missed her on occasion or thought of her. He most certainly missed her.
"I..." he began, still holding her to him and with his head held low, "...I tried to bring you here. So many times," he whispered.
Fen gladly returned his hug. She was warm and soft and genuine in her embrace, and in his arms things were simpler. There were no politics or expense reports or Pickwicks. Just the former High King, her husband. Her friend.
But she didn’t quite understand what he was saying and she let out a small laugh. She imagined he meant bring her to Tumbleweed from Fillory, and she didn’t realize what would be so urgent or why he might need her when he had a lover and all of his friends here.
“I can’t imagine why,” she said. The timelines and lack of knowledge about what he may or may not have known confused her. But Eliot was always a little dramatic. “But I’m here now,” she offered.
He pulled back just enough so that his head was no longer leaning forward. The action had made some of his curls fall down in his face and there was an expression displayed there that he hadn't masked in time. He looked vulnerable in that moment.
It didn't last long. He shook his head, glancing up at the ceiling for a moment. Of course she couldn't imagine why. He couldn't fault her for that. His head tilted back so he could catch her gaze and he released one arm from the embrace, bringing his hand up to rest against her cheek. "I wanted you safe." That was the simplest way to put it.
“Safe from what?” she asked. But when her hand gently covered his on her face, she realized what he meant. And her expression twisted a little as she tried to bury the feeling but couldn’t. “Oh, Eliot…”
Fen shook her head, bringing his fingers to her lips to kiss his knuckles gently. She had spent weeks mourning and drinking, mostly alone at the cottage. But now she realized it was still very possible to cry again.
“I wouldn’t have gone with you. I wouldn’t have left her. I thought I could stay with her. I wanted to stay with her so badly.” Fen buried her face in his hand after the admission.
As she spoke his name, with the realization hitting her, he felt his throat clench up on him and betray him. The motion to swallow, and relieve the tightness in his throat, only had the effect of bringing tears to his own eyes, though for now he quickly blinked those away. He allowed for his hands to be moved to her lips.
"I didn't intend to leave her either," he informed her, his voice cracked as he said it. "I wanted to save you both." All of his intentions had been laid to waste. He'd wanted to get Fen from the moment he found out she was there. He had been in denial and believed maybe he could defy the damned portal, find a way to get to Fen as soon as possible upon her arrival in the realm, and bring her back to this reality with him. He'd wanted that, and he'd wanted his daughter born here, where medical care could have been able to tell them if something had been wrong sooner. Maybe...
The thought trailed off, Eliot not allowing himself to go into the rabbit hole of what-ifs.
As Fen buried her face in his hand, he remained still and did not immediately retract his hand. However, moments later, he did slowly pull his hand back but only so he could collect her in his arms once again. "I remember," he whispered, his head turned and words spoke into her hair. He remembered how she'd defied Margo and only returned when it was of the utmost necessity. And those months after her return, back home, he'd hoped they'd find a way back to their daughter, foolishly believing she'd still be an infant upon rescue. It'd never even considered to him that it wasn't possible to rescue her at all.
Fen’s tears subsided relatively quickly, turning into wounded breaths. It surprised her how quickly that pain came back to her. Possibly because while she flirted with the idea of acceptance and moving on, it hadn’t really happened yet. She was closer to that point, but it was easier to let herself sink into Eliot’s arms and blink away the uglier thoughts she hadn’t gotten out of her system.
Her hand gave his arm a squeeze. She didn’t trust herself to speak until the hurt subsided, hoping if she waited long enough it would fade away into the background like it had done the last few weeks.
He kept his arms around her through the tears and even as they subsided, with his head leaning against hers. His hand splayed out against her back, moving up and down in calming motions, as he tried his best to be both supportive and a comfort for her while the pain had bubbled back up.
He shifted, slowly, to bring his forehead round to face her, and leaned it forward to press against her own.
Fen’s eyes closed the moment she felt Eliot against her. She didn’t tell him they had done this before. That he apologized for being a terrible husband, because if she were being honest with herself, this was the moment she needed. The first time they mourned, it marked a quiet, unremarkable end to their relationship. This time, it felt more like a beginning.
A pit shaped ball of guilt stuck uncomfortably in her gut, as though this were somehow cheating. Fen liked Eliot, she just wasn’t entirely certain how to navigate those feelings.
Fen reached up and combed her fingers through the back of his long hair to keep him close. Even if it didn’t last, again, she would at least have this moment.
He didn't move from the touch. When before, he'd tried to keep as much distance between him and Fen as he could, barely giving any signs of affection, now he appeared to be comfortable in this space and this moment. He didn't feel the early pressure to conform to what she appeared to want him to be. That had been gone for some time and instead he just felt the comfort of her presence.
It was the last piece needed for closure on a part of his life that had been an intense focus for so long.
He pulled back just enough that he could look in her eyes, before glancing up to the crown that was pinned into her hair, and then back to her. He motioned to it with a nudge of his head. "Do you want me to help you take that off?"
Fen blinked. Her hair had been done up, crown artfully placed in the twists and curls, that she’d forgotten about it. Absently, her fingers reached up to remind herself. It looked nice, presentable for someone playing the role of High King, but it wasn’t Fen, who almost always wore her hair down.
“Uh, yes,” she said. Fen tried on a small smile, and though it was tentative, it didn’t feel completely wrong, either. She just needed to convince her eyes it was alright to join in. “The hair in general, um, help? I didn’t do this.”
There was a nod from Eliot before he shifted completely, breaking the contact between them. But it was only for a moment, as he moved around to sit behind her. "I figured it was one of the handmaidens," he said, with a lighter tone than the previous conversation had allowed for.
He leaned forward, eyes taking in the varying twists and the pins that held them in place, before he expertly moved his hand to pull the first clasp free from her hair. His touch was delicate and gentle. While it wasn't often that Eliot was in a position to assist someone with undoing intricate hair do's, he had done it before, though that was largely relegated to Margo. He watched as a strand fell down like a curtain against her neck. He continued from there and once the crown was capable of being raised from her head, he did so.
He leaned forward, chin near her shoulder with his head tilted to look to the side so he could see her expression, as a hand came around her arm to hold out the crown for her to take. "Do you mind holding that, High King Fen?"
Fen could not recall a time she had Eliot’s undivided attention like this. Not even on their wedding night. Though to be fair, there were extenuating circumstances. There were always extenuating circumstances.
Once she felt the weight of the crown released from her head, the relief was immediate. Her shoulders settled and she stretched her long neck out just slightly. It was when she felt Eliot close and he handed her the crown with her status, that a genuine smile with a half attempted laugh.
“High King Fen, the Temporary?” she mused.
"We can do better than that," he said with bit of a laugh of his own. With the crown released from his hand, he shifted, moving to pick up the long braid that the crown had been sitting ontop. He removed the clasp that held the ends together and began slowly undoing the braid. "Fen the Vibrant?" He suggested, leaning forward just enough to raise an eyebrow at her, continuing the lighter feel.
Fen blushed a little. It was one of the nicest things he’d ever said to her. “I don’t really need the title,” she demurred. Him helping her take her hair down was perhaps one of the kindest gestures he’d ever extended toward her. He’d done it without thinking, really, or making a very big deal out of it.
Fen realized for the first time in a long time, she actually felt like his wife.
"King Quentin was very adamant about titles," he told her, thinking back to the journey across the rainbow bridge to find the knight of crowns. He'd been ready to go ahead and just place the crown upon his own head but Quentin had insisted on ceremony. He didn't recall ever telling Fen about that specific factoid.
Once her braid was completely undone, he threaded his fingers down through her hair until he reached the end and let his hand fall against the mattress.
Fen was quiet as she thought it over. There was a small smile on her lips, even as part of her wanted to still protest that she didn’t need a title or that Fillory wasn’t bound by the old ways of doing things anymore. Instead she nodded and said, “I like it.”