a/n: AUGH. JUST LIKE LAST YEAR WHEN I FINISHED NIGHTFALL, THIS NEW BOOK GAVE ME TOO MANY SOPHITZ FEELS, AND I BASICALLY HAD TO WRITE "DUSK TILL DAWN" TO SURVIVE.
AND THIS TIME I MEAN I HAVE TOO MANY SOPHITZ FEELS, SO THIS ONESHOT IS KEEPING ME ALIVE AND GOING.
HERE'S A DRABBLE/WORD VOMIT BECAUSE I LOVE MY COGNATE CHILDREN.
augh i winged this entire thing and it sucks i'm sorry ;-;
To say that everything was a blur for the following days was a major understatement. But in a way, she almost wasn't surprised by the outcome. She had known something would get in their way eventually, and she had felt deep within her all along that the match wouldn't go well.
A part of her had even considered once or twice that the Council would do exactly what they had done - deem her "unmatchable."
Months ago she would have been happy to find that out. She'd been struggling with the idea of signing up for the process, not at all enthused by the way it seemed not one bit romantic. She wanted to find her significant other all on her own, and build trust and support and love with the person who counted - not have someone tell her that if she didn't pick a person a specified list, that she'd be ruled a bad match.
And there was another reason she didn't like it. It was such an unfair prejudice to have and it didn't even make a bit of sense. So what if people didn't want to sign up to be paired? So what if they had their hearts set on a certain someone?
Months ago, Sophie would have been happy. In a sense, at least. Yes, a part of her back then had been thinking about how it would be a little fun to see who was on her list(s), and she had imagined a few flickering images of what her Winnowing Gala(s) might look like.
But now?
Sophie was. . . shell-shocked and more than devastated. She was a little numb to the fact that they had done that.
SOPHIE FOSTER IS UNMATCHABLE.
The dizzying words had been on repeat in her brain for every single day after she walked out of that building.
The Council and all their unjust, stupid ways had always seemed to find some way, shape, or form to control her life. And she thought she could deal with it and had been handling every hard situation they threw at her well until they sprung. . . this on her.
This time she felt that this was somehow more. They weren't controlling where she went or what they said—they were controlling her future life with someone. They were taking away her right as a citizen to apply for the same thing everyone else could, and they were filing her down—forcing her—to be named a bad match right then and there.
This time they had messed with the love in her life.
Just thinking about it brought stinging years to her eyes every. Single. Time.
Life would never be the same. This determined who she could love, who could learn to love her, and how people around her would treat her in her walk through life. As if being herself wasn't enough, now she was ruled a bad match by default?
But that wasn't the only thing that was bothering her: if she would cause any significant other to become a bad match, just because they chose to be with her. . . To marry her someday and spend their life together. . .
That would mean she'd drag the other person down with her.
And that also meant no one could get her on their lists: and that included Fitz.
SOPHIE FOSTER IS UNMATCHABLE.
The words taunted her like a little monster in the back of her head and she knew that if Flori hadn't chased away the echoes with her song, she would have been battling that every day, thanks to the thrilling wave of emotions the matchmaking incident bestowed upon her.
Or, more accurately, the lack of matchmaking incident.
No matter how many times Fitz reached out telepathically or they met up, Sophie couldn't seem to tell him. He'd smile at her, offer his hand, whisper encouraging things to her telepathically —but she just could never get the words out.
It didn't help that everyone else was also always around and they didn't seem to have any free time for Sophie to drop, "Hey, by the way, the Council said I'm Unmatchable!" But she supposed that was for the best.
She didn't want to distract everyone from the efforts of making a plan to check up on Tam, since they knew it was not a wise plan to try and storm him out of there. You know, wherever 'there' was.
Besides that, Sophie felt selfish for thinking about something as silly as matchmaking while her friend was technically being held against his own will at the enemies base. Because Lady Gisela had clocked him over the head and drug him there, so. . .
But then, every single time they'd meet up to put their heads together and talk about Alvar or the hive or the troll alliance or the alicorn babies or anything, Fitz would flash his stupidly gorgeous smile at her and he'd offer his shoulder to her, or let her huddle up against him, and she'd just melt.
And then? Then she'd get nauseous as everything would flood back bigger and harder than the tidal wave at Ravagog.
SOPHIE FOSTER IS UNMATCHABLE.
The Council couldn't have come up with that on the spot. They couldn't have just found out that she was deciding to register and then been all, "Hey, let's make this really big jerk move that'll just crush her heart! That'll be entertaining!"
It didn't seem like a spur of the moment decision or even something that was set in place last minute. It felt. . . It felt as if it had been there since the beginning. As if it had been set there since they found out who she was, where she came from, what she could do, why she could do what she could, and everything else. Every other little bit of information regarding her confusing life story.
Why oh why couldn't this be the one place in her life that hadn't been tampered with? Why couldn't she have one normal thing to count on? Why couldn't she have the same privilege and choice that every other elf had?
SOPHIE FOSTER IS UNMATCHABLE.
She knew she was different. She didn't need anyone to tell her that. But the fact that solely because she was different was a reason the Council had felt they could justly proclaim her to be Unmatchable, was just. . .
Unfair.
Cruel.
Painful.
And by doing that, they had ruined her hopes for her future. They had stripped away every hope and thought and dream of her having a nice life with. . .
. . .Anyway, he'd said it himself. No one in the Vacker family had ever been filed as a bad match. And was he willing to become one? Even for her?
No.
Never.
Which meant she and him. . . just wouldn't work out. It was impossible and there was absolutely nothing she could do to change it. No amount of bribing, begging, or bargaining would get the Council to change those four gut-wrenching words.
SOPHIE FOSTER IS UNMATCHABLE.
Taken out of context, the words sounded great. It made it appear as if she could do anything she set her mind to and that she was unstoppable, in a sense. It made it sound as if she was determined and ready to put order back into her world.
But taken in context? It actually took power away from her and limited the things she could do now, and even things later on in life.
Sitting alone in her bedroom one night, the fears and worries and doubts crept back over her and consumed all her thoughts. It was all she could think about, no matter what else she tried to set her focus on.
She couldn't think about Tam, and she felt shameful for putting this above him. She couldn't think about how Dex was doing with Tinker. She couldn't think about what Fitz and Biana were going through after knowing their brother escaped with all his memories back. She couldn't think about how Linh was doing, sitting all alone at Tiergan's just wondering about what sort of things her brother was being forced to do. She couldn't think about what Keefe was going through, having received that new memory, and having realized that some memories?
He would never get back.
But what was Sophie choosing to worry about?
SOPHIE FOSTER IS UNMATCHABLE.
The more she thought about it, the more she couldn't talk, think, look around, move, breathe—
Sophie? Sophie! SOPHIE!
At first, her brain didn't process who it was that was calling out to her. All she knew was that they were pretty frantic transmissions and those usually came from a rather glittery mama alicorn.
And then Sophie realized that she also hadn't bothered to remember about Luna or Wynn during her epic worry-fest.
W-What? she called back shakily, trying to shut down all negative thoughts and focus on the task at hand.
LOOK AT THAT! I DID IT AGAIN!
With that, it suddenly clicked, and Sophie's brain made the connection that the triumphant voice calling out to her was Fitz.
Great.
Fitz's voice dimmed a little. So, not happy to hear me, I guess?
He'd said the words as teasing as possible, but hurt had still seeped into them, and it reminded Sophie that he could hear her every thought.
No, I just. . . I'm sorry. It's not you.
Fitz paused for a second. I'm trying to block you, I swear, but. . . The thoughts blaring in the background say otherwise.
They did indeed. Though she wasn't going to straight up admit that.
I'm sorry, she repeated, feeling utterly guilty.
The two of them both knew that for the past few days, she'd been doing her very best to ignore him. Sure, she'd acknowledge him when they were all together with their friends, but she tried to the best of her ability to avoid talking. She was afraid that their small talk would open up into bigger topics like they always did and then she'd accidentally slip and tell him about the Matchmaking. . .
Fitz 's brain seemed to perk to attention at the word. Matchmaking?
Sophie scrambled to get her thoughts under control. Fitz! she squeaked, lightly scolding him.
Sorry, he apologized, and she could hear how bad he felt in his tone. But she could also imagine the small, triumphant smile on his mouth and the rosy red of his cheeks.
C'mon, he urged when she stayed silent for a minute, focusing on keeping her mind blank. I already heard a lot. And you can trust me with this stuff, remember? I recall you saying you trusted me. . .
He didn't say it as if he were beginning to doubt what she had said—he said it teasingly, and her brain flashed back to the moment in the reception hall.
"I'm going to get you to trust me."
Her eyes met his. "I do trust you."
"Then trust this."
She could practically feel the curve of his mental smirk.
Oh, don't you even dare tease me about that, she warned, flushing a deep red.
Like you could do anything to stop me, he challenged with a chuckle that set her heart thumping.
I will not hesitate to leap over there and have my bodyguards beat you.
The playful threat was left dangling over his head and he laughed, which sent sparks tingling all over. Look at us, we're having fun. Don't you miss this? Don't you miss talking to me?
Sophie frowned. Of course I miss talking to you. But it's only been a few days, and—
And you've been purposely trying to not talk with me.
He didn't have even a trace of anger in his mental voice as he said it. He just spoke calmly and gingerly, which gave her the courage to quietly admit, . . .Yes.
She could practically see him nodding and running a hand through his dark hair.
Okay, he said, letting out a mental exhale. Hearing the words made it real for him, she understood.
She felt awful for the fact that the words were true, but she couldn't exactly turn back time and take back all the moments she'd purposely pretended not to hear him or had acted as if someone had called her over and away from him. Or acting like she was asleep when Fitz had reached out to her one night.
I want to tell you, Sophie admitted, biting her lip and fidgeting with the silky covers on her bed. But it's going to change everything.
I believe you said that with your last secret, Fitz pointed out. Sophie didn't do much as smile at his attempted humour.
Hey, he said when she stayed silent for a bit, I like change. If I hadn't blurted out all that awkward stuff in the reception hall to you, we wouldn't be where we are now.
And where are we? Sophie asked, partly because she wanted to hear his answer and partly because she wanted to distract him.
But he caught her.
Ah, trying to be sly, I see. Nope! Not gonna work. You already know very well how I see you.
She did. He'd been keeping true to his promise and he had been telling her almost every day—even when she had tried to relentlessly run away from him—that she was beautiful and talented and amazing. He'd been showering her with compliments for days on end, ignoring other's stares and Grady's glares, just to make her feel important and just to make sure that she might one day accept and believe those words.
It melted her heart to ashes.
But it also stabbed pin-pricks in the fluttery feelings' wakes, because she knew that now they could never progress their relationship.
Seriously Sophie, what's up? You can tell me anything.
Not this.
She hadn't necessarily meant to transmit the words but in a way of made her feel better to say them aloud. Maybe Fitz would understand the weight of the situation and just. . . Drop it.
Of course, he was Fitz, so he didn't.
I'm here for you, he promised. You know this. Do you think I'll laugh? Or are you thinking I'm going to get angry?
Fitz was a force to be reckoned with when he was angry, but that wasn't her worry.
She sighed, running a hand down her face. Look, this a conversation better had in person, okay? I'm afraid you'll do something stupid, or I'll do something stupid and—
Okay, he agreed quickly as he severed their connection.
For a moment she sat still on her bed, shocked at what had just happened, but then it clicked on her brain what he was doing.
Fitz?! FITZ! WAIT! NOT RIGHT NOW!
He didn't answer and she began to panic as she scrambles around the room for pants. She'd been lounging around in a large T-shirt and definitely hadn't been expecting company.
FITZ I'M IN MY PAJAMAS.
SO AM I!, he responded cheekily and she nearly had a heart attack.
DON'T YOU DARE TELL ME YOU'RE HERE.
I am, he confirmed happily.
ARE YOU INSANE? GO BACK HOME!
Nope! I'm going to see you and we're going to talk, he stubbornly insisted.
IF YOU THINK GRADY WILL LET YOU IN HERE AT THIS TIME, YOU'RE WRONG.
Maybe, he agreed. But I'm going to try.
Sophie's cheeks flooded with warmth and colour at the determination in his voice and they only grew darker as she realized that was held in his voice for her. He was here for her and to make sure she was alright.
Then panic set back in when she realized she still hadn't found pajama pants.
Sandor rapped on the door, nearly making her lungs collapse out of fear. "Miss Foster, Mr. Vacker is here. Your mother let him in. Should I—"
"DON'T LET HIM IN HERE YET!" she begged, grabbing some grey sweatpants and jumping into them. If she had been closer to Vertina, the tiny girl would have been laughing her head off at how Sophie was shimmying into her pants.
She finally pulled them up to her hips and she breathed a sigh of relief, tugging nervously on her ponytail, aware that it was probably messy from relaxing and laying around in bed.
Sophie opened her bedroom door to see Tarina, Flori, and Sandor all standing outside of looking rather concerned as to what the ruckus inside her room had been. And why she was breathing more heavily than she probably should have been.
But she was nervous.
Sophie peered down the stairs to see Bo talking to Edaline and Fitz. When he glanced to the side and up the stairs, his eyes landed on her and he gave a huge smile.
He waved up at her enthusiastically and Bo looked clearly unhappy that the teenage elf wasn't listening to him.
Fitz began jogging up the stairs to meet her and Flori flashed a knowing green-toothed smile at Sophie, which made her blush. As Sophie watched Fitz climb the last few steps to get to her, standing right outside her door with Sandor and three of her bodyguards, she noticed he really was in his pajamas. And his hair was all dishevelled. And his eyelids were still slightly droopy.
And it was just adorable.
She tried not to let her heart go all Cute-Boy-Crazy on her, but it went against her will and fluttered away like always.
"Hi," he said, starting off the conversation. He greeted her bodyguards and Sandor made it very clear that they were not to leap off anywhere if he let them be in the room with the door closed.
Sophie mostly kept her eyes trained in Grizel downstairs, who was now talking with Edaline, but then the conversation ended and Fitz gently urged her inside the room.
All too soon the doors closed and Fitz blew out a breath, taking in the large space, which she now knew was so big because it had once been the reception hall.
Reception hall. . .
Her mind flooded with glossy, sweet memories and she had to force herself not to turn red and to shut down the thoughts, for fear of Fitz looking in her head and seeing her replay that.
She tugged on a loose strand of hair framing her face, trying very hard not to be bothered by the fact that her ponytail was probably very messy.
"So. . ." Fitz began. "There's probably no point in trying to be quiet because I recall Sandor saying he could hear you breathing and Ro saying she could hear Keefe's heartbeat."
Her mind felt the need to add that Flori could hear roots whispering, and Sophie nodded, her lips actually twitching a little at the attempted humour. The senses of her bodyguards still amazed her—though, she didn't have Ro. She had Bo.
Or, you know, Fitz said, making her jump, if this is one of those conversations that needs to be held telepathically. . .
She tugged on the cord and pendant around her neck nervously, which has been becoming a new habit of hers recently. Fitz noticed and rose an eyebrow as his eyes locked on the pendant in her hand.
Sophie rose her own eyebrow, rivalling his confusion as she looked down and realized it wasn't just any pendant she had learned to twist around as a habit.
Specifically, it was a very sparkly, very teal heart.
She pulled her hand away, forcing her hands to stay at her sides. She resisted all urges to tug on strands of hair, or to fiddle with her necklace, or even to rip out eyelashes.
I don't think this is a conversation we should be having, period. At least. . . Not right now.
Why not? he asked curiously.
I just. . . I don't think it's good news and I don't want to worry you any more than you already are. We're all worried because of everything happening and this just seems silly compared to everything else we're dealing with. I can handle it on my own, she promised.
It wasn't like it was some monster waiting to sprawl for her in the dark. It was just four words that wouldn't bother her if she didn't think about them.
Well. . . Kind of.
Fitz shook his head. I'll never consider something that's bothering you to be silly. You can talk to me about anything. I'm always here.
He patted his shoulder and smiled at her, his mind flashing to all the times she had recently been leaning on him—quite literally—for support.
Or, you know, all the times she had been leaning on him before she had tried to avoid him for a week or two.
She sighed. I know. That's almost the issue. You're here and. . . You're involved. I love having you around, but it just. . . Ugh. I don't know.
This is a tough situation, Fitz finished for her and she was grateful for how well he knew her.
She nodded in confirmation. It's tricky, she said.
When were you planning to tell me, on your own? he asked.
Sophie swallowed, going right back to fidgeting with her necklace without a care in the world. Uh. . .
I'm guessing that silence means you were hoping to drag it out for as long as possible, Fitz guessed with an elegantly arched eyebrow.
Sophie scuffed the flower carpet with the tip of her toe, scattering a few petals. Maybe, she mumbled, wishing she could be anywhere but here. She didn't want to tell him.
But she did.
It was all so complicated and gut-wrenching and stomach-swirling that she just didn't know how to approach it.
Just blurt it out, Fitz tried. Come on. You can do it. I'll be right here if you need me. And if you don't want me, then I'll stand in the corner if that really makes you feel better. I'm fine with whatever, Sophie. But I do need you to tell me what's going on.
She blew out a shaky breath, nodding her head slowly. All she needed to do was spit those four, stupid words out and then it would all be over with.
But would it? Would it really?
No. It would change everything about them and it would change everything in her future. It would ruin them and any possible chance of a future involving the both of them.
It would shatter it all.
SOPHIE FOSTER IS UNMATACHABLE.
The scene replayed in her head and she thought she might be sick. Nothing would be the same. There was nothing she could do to change it. To fix it. To do anything at all—
She had barely registered that Fitz had sucked in a small breath, but then her brain finally clicked and sent a wave of panic rippling through her body. She blinked out of her trance, looking at Fitz who was just as shocked as her.
"Fitz—" she tried, remembering that he had been in her head, all her thoughts on display.
He had seen it all.
"Sophie," he interrupted, exasperated. "Did you—did they—you're—"
"Fitz, I told you it wouldn't go well!" she shouted as he could barely get out another word. "You shouldn't have done that! I-I didn't want to tell you. . ."
Her rage was slowly fizzling away, the deep, raw hurt underneath covering over like a scar.
Fitz watched her with unwavering eyes, confusion etched across his own face. She shook her head, all the fight already leaving her body. It was going to have to happen at one point or another, and they were already on the train tracks to destruction.
It's best to just. . . cut it all off quickly, she told herself. She blew out a shaky breath, rubbing the knot under her ribcage.
"Fitz," she eventually said, drawing his attention. "I. . . I meant to tell you. I was trying to get to it, I just. . ."
She resisted the urge to rip out her eyelashes or bury her face in her hands. Right then and there, she would trade every single one of her abilities to be a Vanisher.
"Why did they do this?" he asked slowly. "When did this happen?"
She took another deep breath, not at all ready for this conversation. "A week or two ago, I went in with Edaline and Grady. And. . . they asked me stuff? I don't know. They asked me who. . ."
She paused, her brow puckering as she remembered the last question they had asked her. Was it all because she. . .
Fitz rose an eyebrow. "What is it?" It was clear he wasn't going to read her mind again to try and find it, which she appreciated more than she could express at-the-moment.
"I. . ."
Everything seemed to be freezing. Her body was feeling number than it probably should have and she was just. . . Shell-shocked, stuck on the spot.
"That's why they did it," she whispered, mostly to herself.
"Um. . ." Fitz was unsure of how to respond to what she was saying - that much was clear. How he was feeling on the subject, though, was in To Be Determined category.
Sophie wrapped her arms around herself. "I don't understand," she said, hushed. "I don't. . . I can't fix this. . ."
"Sophie," Fitz said.
But her mind was already reeling, going through millions of theories and half-thought-out plans to fix the problem. "What if they did that on purpose? They had to have known I don't know that. Right? What if this is just all a ploy from the Council? What if they want me to do all the work for them and find out, just so—"
"Sophie," Fitz called again, this time reaching out a grabbing her arm to keep her from pacing. She tensed at the touch, but Fitz didn't let go or shy away. "Stop worrying so much and jumping to conclusions. You haven't even really told me what's going on."
"Yes, that's because you went into my head and fished it out for yourself," she snapped. Her eyes widened, shocked herself that she had said that, but he ignored it. He brushed it off like it was nothing.
"Okay," he said. "I deserve that. So, why don't you tell me what's going on in here." He took two fingers and tapped her temple. then he moved down and tapped near her collarbone, signalling to her heart.
She melted a little, her sharp edges softening. "They said I was. . . that after I told them I didn't know who my biological parents were," she admitted quietly.
Fitz blew out a breath, running a hand through his hair and disheveling it. He seemed to do that while he was deep in thought, and Sophie had to rip her eyes away to keep from staring. She loved this boy so much that it hurt her heart. But now she was just waiting for the rejection to come. Deep down, she'd always known it was going to happen one day. Hopefully, he'd make it quick. She always imagined it being quick.
Just a little, Listen, Sophie, this isn't really going to work. . .
But his reply surprised her. "You know that doesn't. . . really matter, right?"
She blinked. "What?" It was the most dumb response, but that was all that came out of her mouth.
He ran another hand through his hair - which was shaking, she realized - and he blew out a breath as he took a few steps towards her and took one of her hands. "It's not what I would have preferred, I have to admit that. But if I can't have you the easy way then I'll go the hard way. It's not like I'm just going to drop all my feelings for you just because of a roadblock. I can't. . . I can't just lose you like that."
"You've got to be kidding." She hadn't meant for it to slip out, and she winced when he recoiled lightly, looking hurt. "I'm sorry," she apologized, feeling genuinely sorry. "You just. . . It's nothing against you, but. . ." She cringed, unsure of how to neutrally word this.
"My family," he offered, and she nodded slowly. He sighed. "I know. It's really complicated, I have to admit that. And I'd rather not have a few thousand ancestors knocking at my door, angry that I've messed up their perfect "no-bad-matches" record, but. . . I can live with that if you're behind that door with me."
She blushed, unsure of how to properly respond. Fitz's face turned a shade darker in turn and she couldn't help but imagine tiny glimpses of some future between the two of them. Her heart switched to hummingbird mode.
Fitz reached forward and took her hands, sending a jolt of electricity through her body. "It'll be okay," he promised. "We'll get Tam back, we'll figure everything out with Keefe and the whole Gisela thing, we'll deal with Vespera and Alvar and any other people who decide they don't like what we're fighting for." He gave her hands a squeeze and smiled, and she eventually returned a small squeeze once feeling had come back to her numb body. She swore every time he so much as made she contact with him, she melted into a puddle of goo.
"I'm in it for the long game," he said.
"Long game," she agreed.
Come hell or high water, she was getting her happy ending.
