Fawn warmed her hands by the low crackling of the hearth. The once-roaring fire of the servant's quarter was almost embers now, the arched stone room dark and quiet save for the low, murmured conversations of the scullery maids over clinking dishes in the chamber beyond. It was late afternoon – the lull before the evening rush began. She'd finished her washing and mending, hoping to snatch a short time alone, away from the scathing stares of the other girls.

It'd been over a week now since she left Thomas' chambers, painstakingly making her way down the massive stone steps after their terrible fight. At first, she focused only on the task at hand, lowering her body over the edge and letting herself drop to the stone below. But gradually, with each step, a sense of terrible distance seemed to encroach upon her, threatening at any moment to become unbreachable. Until reaching the bottom, she looked back up with a plummeting gut. 

She wouldn't have been able to climb back even if she wanted to.

She wandered the winding labyrinth of tunnels and halls, directionless and purposeless, one foot stumbling before the other. She didn't know if Thomas came back out to find her, expecting her to still be waiting on the stoop. Only that she had to keep moving, keep walking; that to stop would somehow make all of it real. She walked until exhaustion set in and finding the servant's quarters, she collapsed onto a thin, stray mattress in the crowded dormitory. Laying awake among the hundred huddled shapes of the other sleeping girls, she listened to them breathe, the rise and fall of it almost like the low hum of Thomas' breathing. And for the first time in months, Fawn felt truly alone, without a single kind face, a friend, a place to call home.

In the days that followed, she kept herself busy, lending a hand with any work that could be found. She kept mostly to herself, the other girls skirting around her or whispering together as they shot furtive glances her way. Even that she could stand. It was still hours of the night she hated the most, when the bustle of the day fell away, leaving only her most troubled thoughts. She imagined him reckless without her, desperate for her to return. It was then that she craved him most, it was then that she wanted most terribly to break.

Fawn stiffened at the sudden clatter of footsteps, buoyant voices echoing down the stairwell. She had drifted away again, lost track of time. Cursing, she turned to usher herself quietly out of the room, but found it was already too late. A group of five lady's maids had bustled in, their giggling chatter stopping abruptly as their voices dropped into conspiratorial whispers.

"Look, it's her."

The group stopped short, shuffling around one another as they tried to see.

"You mean that little thing creeping in the corner?"

"I heard she's his whore."

"Her? But she's so small and boyish! Why ever would he want that little rat?"

Fawn dropped her gaze as titters broke out, her cheeks flushing with warmth as she stared hard into the hearth.

"You sound jealous, Annabelle," one of the girls quipped. "Do you wish the Godking would take you instead?"

"Me?" she cried, "I'd rather die than debase myself like that!"

"Oh, do you think he does terribly wicked things to her?"

"Do you wager she enjoys them?"

Fawn crushed her eyes shut, trying to drown out the excited cruelty in their voices.

"Well, she certainly wouldn't be his first, you know," one of the girls continued eagerly. "Lady Davenborne tells me such sordid tales about him."

"Liar!"

"I'm not! She said he coveted her for a time, that she's seen his inner chambers. He has a whole room of them, his favourite trinkets. Keeps them in cages in the wall. She says his appetites are insatiable."

"Which appetites?"

Fawn's ears burned at the eruption of laughter, the lady's maids not even pretending to hide their conversation any longer. In fact, they were moving forward now, ruffling toward her like a flock of angry geese. She fixed her eyes firmly on a single glow of embers, watching as the coal collapsed into fireplace soot.

"Well, I don't think she should be wandering out here where she might pollute us respectable women. He should keep her locked up where she belongs."

"Don't worry, Mary. It's only a matter of time until he grows bored and does away with her."

"Good riddance..."

"Well until then," a voice hissed, "she better stay out of our way."

Fawn flinched, the words spoken inches from her ear. She kept her eyes downcast, her body trembling. Then just as quickly as they arrived, the group swept past, leaving her with tears of shame and fury in her eyes. She didn't realize how tightly she was gripping the stone mantle until a voice rose up to her right.

"Don't pay 'em any mind love. They're nasty to all folk 'neath 'em."

Fawn blinked up in alarm, unaware that anyone else had been in the room. There, at the doorway to the scullery, a woman was leaned against the stone, her rough hands polishing a copper pitcher. She was taller than Fawn and heavy-set, though not much older. In the dim light Fawn could just make out a swathe of mottled scarring running down her face and neck.

"Burn marks," the girl said matter-of-factly, angling her head to look at them herself. "Hot oil, actually. Crossed the wrong man."

Fawn's eyes darted away, embarrassed at being caught staring.

"I'm sorry," she whispered.

The maid shrugged, pushing herself off the wall and wandering closer.

"What you got to be sorry for? You didn't do it," she grinned. "'Sides I'm used to the stares. Put up wit' much worse before I came 'ere."

"And now?" Fawn whispered, "Has the Godking...that is - have you suffered much here?"

"King's merciful enough," the woman shrugged. "Only seen 'im once with me own eyes, and by the gods that were enough. But the work's n'er burdensome and there's a roof o'er our head. Don't much care what else he's done long as I can live in peace."

She finished polishing, throwing the rag over her shoulder.

"That's what their lot'll never get," she nodded toward the now-vanished lady's maids, "with their fancy titles and their high ideas."

She placed a hand on Fawn's arm, offering a small but sympathetic smile.

"Girls like us, we do what we 'afto to survive. We can't afford the luxury of morals."

Fawn stiffened, the words hardening like mortar in her gut.

"Excuse me," she muttered, brushing past and out of the hall. 

***

Fawn sucked in a deep breath as she stepped outside the castle, her lungs contracting from the bitter cold winter air. She felt as if she were holding her breath the entire walk up, a furious burning in the center of her chest that threatened to explode. Even now, she wanted to scream, to cry, but instead kept her mouth soldered shut, letting the frigid wind whip against her until she could no longer feel her skin.

The sound of the workmen's cries in the courtyard below finally broke her from her trance and she wrapped her woolen shawl more tightly around her shoulders, suddenly desperately aware of the cold. Stepping down from the small side servant's entrance in the eastern wall, she began to thread her way through the winter gardens toward the stables. The grounds were barren now, the soil frozen hard as stone while rows of orchards stood stark and skeletal against the bitter wind. Even the once deeply flowing fountains were now empty, piles of half-decayed leaves frozen in clumps along the bottom of the basin. As she passed the southern gate, she saw two men in the distance, conversing in a quiet huddle. One of them raised a glance at her, before carrying on, leaving Fawn to disappear among the crumbled statues of gods and kings, their stone faces staring blankly toward the grey sky.

With relief, she soon rounded a bend of stone and found herself before the long line of wooden stables. She reasoned they should be empty – the hour was late for hunting and the stable boys would have mucked out the stalls already, warming their hands now by the evening hearth. Still, she approached cautiously.

The stables were deserted as expected, grey light sifting through the wooden rafters. As she stepped quietly into the dim warmth of the stalls, she could feel her numbness begin to thaw, a calm settling over her as she was greeted by the familiar smell of warm animals and hay. The fury she'd felt earlier seemed to melt away, and for a moment, she felt almost at ease, as if she were back in the barn in Windemere tending to the heifers.

A few of the horses became curious as she entered, hanging their heads over the stalls or flicking their tails, their soft whinnies rising up in puffs of steam. She spoke soft greetings to them as she wandered down the halls, blowing warm air into her hands. Soon, she found herself nearing the end of the rows where a much larger enclosure stood, occupying the entire back wall. Inside, an enormous roan mare had moved up to the gate, head shaking as she pawed at the ground. Brilliant black eyes blinked back at Fawn, dark as frozen pools beneath her tawny, reddish mane. Beneath, a dappled beige and white coat glistened across broad muscle almost 16 hands long.

The mare snorted, her head jerking back slightly.

"Easy..." Fawn said softly, her voice forming clouds in the cold, evening light.

The animal paced slightly, her head jutting forward as her nostrils flared. She seemed to regard Fawn warily, the girl standing utterly still before her. Then the mare began to nicker, neck stretching out to nuzzle Fawn's pockets for food. Relieved, she exhaled shakily, offering the mare one empty hand, palm up. With the other, she fished inside her skirts for an oatcake she'd saved for herself for later.

"That was supposed to be mine..." she laughed softly, "what will I eat now, hmm? Hay?"

The animal accepted the offering gladly, allowing Fawn to stroke her muzzle, then her neck. She pressed her hands up against the short coat, greedily accepting the animal's warmth.

"You're not meant to be touching her."

Fawn jolted, spinning around toward the commanding voice. The very last of the day's grey light was waning, casting the figure in a silhouette of shadow. Her heart thudded against her chest, fearful of another confrontation.

"Forgive me – I came here to escape the cold...I didn't mean –" she stopped short, blinking into the dimness.

"Lord Wolfe?"

He was smiling, his gait relaxed as he strode calmly down the stables toward her.

"No, truly, I'm astounded. She doesn't abide others, not even the groomsmen. Won't let anyone handle her except for me."

He stepped up alongside Fawn, greeting the courser with gentle sounds. The mare whinnied in return, letting Garrick stroke her neck as she leaned forward again to snuffle at Fawn's pockets.

He laughed warmly.

"She knows a friend when she sees one."

He turned his smile down toward Fawn and she felt her heart flip strangely at the sight. She broke his gaze, eyes darting hurriedly back to the mare.

"She's beautiful..."

"Isn't she? Lamoria. Champion of a horse."

"Lamoria..." Fawn whispered. "The weeping beacon..."

As she spoke, a memory came back to her like a vision: the courser standing tall and proud in the blackcurrant grove those many months ago. And Garrick, staring transfixed in the golden light as he and Fawn set eyes on one another for the first time...

"Yes, from the prophecies of the Elder Kins. My mother used to read them to me as a child..."

He trailed off, a snag in his voice.

"We've been through much together, in times of war and peace," he patted her neck. "She was a gift, from my late parents."

"I'm sorry..." Fawn said softly.

He nodded briskly.

A quiet fell between them, broken only by the occasional huffing of the stable horses. Fawn raised her hand, placing it beside his on the horse's neck.

"I lost my parents too..." she ventured quietly, her gaze fixed on the mare. "When I was twelve. Lately I find myself wondering what my life would have been like if they still lived. If things had been different..."

She glanced up, her eyes meeting the full weight of his attention. He was gazing at her intently, waiting for her to speak. Yet somehow, his gaze felt calming, reassuring, almost steadying. So unlike Thomas'...

"I was studying beneath them," she glanced away. '''Apprenticing. They were healers, very gifted in the art."

"A healer?" his eyebrows raised slightly, "like the Goddess Ethurial...now that is a noble art..."

"Though I must say, I'm not truly surprised," he continued pensively. "There's something about you one can't help but trust...a soothing gentleness – like balm to a wound."

He angled his head back toward his horse, reaching his hand up to stroke its muzzle.

"Lamoria sensed it, didn't you girl?"

Fawn blushed fiercely, grateful he'd averted his eyes.

"I knew you were no peasant," he eyed her from the side, a small smile reappearing. "From the moment I met you."

This time she dropped her gaze, her foot scraping a line through the stable floor hay.

"A noble art perhaps," she muttered. "But they were simple people, my parents. They took very little for themselves, nothing beyond our needs. They wished only to help others..."

She paused, her hand skating over the wooden stall.

"I remember a great deal of people would pass through to see them. People from all over Agraria, rich and poor. I remember – " she laughed softly, "I remember sitting up at the top of the staircase some evenings, listening to their conversations late into the night when I was supposed to be sleeping. I was too young to understand it all...but it was fascinating all the same. They would talk of such things...of learning and progress, the future of Agraria; a golden age of prosperity and justice...such vision they had..."

She faltered, suddenly fearful her words could be seen for treason. But the King's Guard seemed not to mind – in fact, he was laughing quietly to himself.

"You remind me of myself as a child. Curious. Smart. Willful."

She laughed shakily in relief.

"Well, at least one of us was destined for great things."

He laughed sharply.

"I suppose you could say that..."

He looked as if he wished to say something more before changing his mind.

"Your parents..." he turned back toward her, "may I ask how you lost them?"

Fawn's smile faltered.

"They were taken...quite suddenly. They came for them in the middle of the night – men at arms, soldiers, I don't know." She swallowed, her throat tight. "It's been 7 years now."

"Indeed..."

He paused, his attention far away. Then he turned quite suddenly toward her, his brow furrowed.

"Fawn...forgive my intrusion, but your parents...they were not by some wild chance Willow and Audric Braegon?"

Fawn's heart seized, unable to beat for a single second.

"What did you say..."

He stared at her, his green eyes taking  her in with something close to disbelief.

"By the goddess you are, aren't you? You're their daughter..." He laughed, halting and incredulous. "But what strange fate is this!"

Fawn's heart leapt with a joy so wild it almost burst her chest.

"You – you knew them?" she grasped his arm, her eyes wide as she beseeched his. "You must tell me, Garrick! You must tell me everything!"

He laughed again, a joyous sound.

"I did – I mean yes, though not personally..." he tried to gather his thoughts. "I was a young man when I first heard them speak. Just shy of 18..."

Fawn's pulse beat furiously, her heart eagerly drinking in his words. 

"Heard them speak? Where? When?" 

"The capitol, for the first time, I believe. But by then their crowds had grown large. People came from all over Agraria to see them - for their healing, yes, but also for their ideas. Their vision..."

Fawn's heart thundered in her ears, her mind racing to process his words.

"They wished to create something new, something no one had ever dreamed of. A society, built on fairness, justice, equality. I was fascinated by their imaginings, their fearlessness in the face of tyranny..." 

He shook his head. 

"Those conversations you heard...they were more than just healers, Fawn. They were visionaries. Revolutionaries. Their loss was felt heavily in many circles..."

Fawn stared into the growing darkness, her head becoming gradually lighter as his words sank in. Her hand grasped for the stable door, staggering slightly in her daze. Garrick caught her arm, steadying her gently.

"You - you didn't know?"

She shook her head. 

"They used to go away..." she spoke the words slowly, almost as if to herself, "when I was little... sometimes for weeks. They would tell me it was to gather supplies, to tend to the needy...they would leave me with a farmer's family in the neighbouring county, Joseph and Darly and Josephine...but I never...they never..."

She blinked slowly, her hands trembling.

"There were rumours," he said softly, "of a daughter, at the time of their arrest. They were searching for her for a time. But it was thought that she too was killed..."

He trailed off.

"I'm sorry. This must come as a shock..."

Fawn held onto the stable door, her mind reeling. The last of the faint light had all but faded now, the outline of the horses but a faint suggestion in the dimness.

What else hadn't they told her. What else didn't she know.

Garrick ducked his head slightly, catching her gaze.

"Whatever they told you or didn't tell you...your parents loved you, Fawn. They saved your life..."

He was looking at her closely, earnestly, as if he would again speak.
But even as his mouth parted, the heavy tread of approaching footsteps broke the stillness, a flood of torchlight dipping into the stables.

"Lord Garrick?" a voice called out. "Have you found the girl?"

Garrick held Fawn's gaze a moment longer, before he broke it with a sigh.

"Yes, Grandel. She's been found. Tell the King we're on our way."

The soldier nodded briskly, the flickering torchlight retreating until the stables were cast back in shadow. Fawn stared hard into the dark, a knot coiled in her chest.

"So, he's sent you to collect me. That's why you're here."

"Fawn..."

She clenched her jaw, her eyes welling up.  

"Well, you can tell my Master that if he wants me so badly, he can fetch me himself. I will not come to him."

Garrick regarded her quietly, his features unreadable in the dark. Then he glanced away, his eyes peering down at the ground, then out toward the cold, dark courtyard. 

"There will be consequences..."

"To the gods with his consequences!" she cried.

The stables rang out with the sound, a few of the horses shuffling nervously at the sudden noise. 

If Garrick was taken aback, he didn't show it, his ever-steady demeanor remaining unshakeable and composed. Fawn felt a sudden wave of foolishness come over her, and she looked down, cheeks flushing.

"Tell him he can do what he likes with me," she muttered. "I care not."

Garrick leaned up against the stable doors, exhaling heavily. 

"I know things have been difficult for you, Fawn...you must know how I sympathize. He is not an easy man to please - you of all people know this. But to invite such wrath...you do not wish to know what he could really do to you..."

He looked away, his eyes hard.

"I've known Kingslaves before you, Fawn, before the Godking even set foot on this island. Their lives..."

He trailed off.

"He is fond enough of you at least to spare you such fates."

Fawn felt a pang in her chest, sharp and unbearable.

"He is fond of nothing but his power."

The bitterness of her word were almost palpable and a silence settled between them, uncomfortable and long.

She could feel him begin to stir, any moment signalling the end of the conversation. With a growing panic, Fawn felt the intimacy slipping away, the crushing loneliness of the evening creeping in...

"I've known him to be brilliant..." she uttered, "merciful, even kind..." 

She shook her head. 

"The knowledge he has Garrick...the things he's seen...there are vast worlds beyond our shores, cities far greater than anything we could ever imagine. He could be the greatest ruler Agraria has ever known, and yet instead he would cling blindly to power, see enemies where there are friends, conspiracies instead of aid. He would slaughter the entire Order without question, condemn innocents to suffer...by the gods, he would starve himself to death before he ever let himself appear weak...and so he makes others bear the burden of his weakness...his conscience..."

Garrick paused, choosing his words carefully.

"If aid is what he needs, I am here at his command. I owe him the debt of my life – he knows this. But Fawn..." he shook his head, frowning, "you are not the King's Guard, you are not one of his advisors, his council. You are the Kingslave. You have perhaps the most thankless, most precarious position in all of the Kingdom. You must understand...you're not to blame for his actions...you're not responsible for the morality of someone who owns your life..."

"But am I not?" she exclaimed, turning toward him urgently. "Am I not too to blame?"

Garrick blinked back in surprise. 

It was the first time she had ever seen him without composure, and she bit her tongue. 

How could she make him understand without betraying her secret? How could anyone understand the guilt she felt...the blood that was also on her hands...

She exhaled sharply through her nose. 

"What I mean to say is...when all of it is stripped away, all titles and ranks and trappings of power...am I not too a soul with will? Are we not, all of us, responsible for the lives we lead? For a better, more hopeful future? To turn a blind eye to the sorrows of others for the sake of my own peace..."

She clenched her jaw, staring hard into the darkness.

"I do not believe in a morality reserved only for the highest among us...I cannot..."

He exhaled softly.

"You speak exactly like them, you know. Your parents. Yet you disparage yourself with the same breath..."

She shook her head, jaw set stubbornly.

"They used to tell me that righteousness would always prevail...that if I was true to my heart, if I sought goodness and truth, that the world could be changed. But I struggle to see it, Garrick...I struggle – "

The words caught in her throat.

"What if they were wrong?" she turned to him, her eyes clouded with tears. "What if there is nothing we can do to change our fate? Look at them! Look where they ended up! All their lofty ideals and the world rolls on unchanged, wicked and unrighteous, and cruel."

She looked away, staring fiercely into the gloom. 

"It's like there's a black cloud pressing in around me, darkening every day. When I'm with him, I..."

She crushed her eyes shut.

"I fear I cannot see my way forward anymore Garrick...I fear that I have lost myself..."

His face softened, brows arching sympathetically.

"Fawn...listen to me...who you are, and who you are when you're with him...they're not the same thing. He may make you feel weak. Small. Insignificant even. But I see only strength in you. Only goodness..." 

He reached out, gently tilting her chin up with his hand. 

"We cannot change the past, as much as we may wish it. But if you parents could be here now, I know they would be proud of you. Proud of the person you've become..."

Fawn went utterly still as he touched her, heart thundering as she looked up at him through tears. It was almost painful, how tenderly he gazed down at her, his thumb grazing gently over her cheek. 

"You must know, Fawn..." he whispered, "you must know what a light you are to others. Even if you walk blindly in the dark. Even if you cannot see it yourself..."

Was it the weight of the darkness or did he seem to be drawing closer, the warmth of his body almost palpable now. She felt as if she were in a trance, his hand hesitant, almost unsure, as it curved around the small of her back. They were so close now that their chests touching, hearts beating against one another. So close, that the clouds of their breath mingled in the dark, their lips nearing, then brushing, bright and cold yet begging for warmth...

Fawn snapped awake, breaking suddenly from his touch. She stumbled slightly, her heart beating furiously as she took a few steps back.

For a moment neither of them said a word.

"Fawn...I – "

"I must be going." Her voice trembled.

"I – I'm sorry...I don't know what came over me..."

"He – he will be expecting me."

"Yes," Garrick shook his head. "Yes of course."

"Garrick, I..." 

She trailed off, her breath staggered and uneven. 

"Goodbye, Lorde Wolfe..." she uttered. 

And without another word, she hurried out into the night. 

Author's Note

ahahahahahahha. Did you guys really think you'd have a single second of peace in this story?  That aside, I'm so excited you all finally get to find out more about Fawn's parents/the circumstances around their disappearance. And then of course...there's Garrick...

So general updates: sorry again for a long chapter wait. Life has been really chaotic...I've been overwhelmed with grad school and work and driving lessons and surgery and a million health appointments, while dx with burnout lol 👍👍👍 so it's been hard to find energy to write. I wish you guys could just like read this story from my brain since it lives there rent free lol 

Anyway, team Thomas/Garrick? Team oh shit. I love to hear your thoughts! And as always, thank you so much to my generous ko-fi supporters and all my readers <3 If you enjoy my content, please:

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