Category: Winx Club

Rating: M

Couples: Hinted Faragonda/Hagen

Warnings: AU, Character Death

Chapter: One Shot

Copyright: Characters & places © By Iginio, Plot & OC´s © by me

Author's Note: Rough Draft for a Birthday-gift, but I decided to write something else for the occasion. Still thought I might update it.

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"I can take care of myself."

"Then you better take care of that Witch. Does the name Mandragora sound familiar?"

She couldn't believe it. How had Mandragora escaped Obsidian? It hardly mattered now. All that mattered was getting her away from Alfea. And so she exhausted herself to do so.

Her body fell down, into his waiting arms. She herself didn't notice: she was unconscious. But perhaps she had miscalculated or something like that. At any rate, she had used too much energy. At first no one noticed: she even helped in the rebuilding of her school.

But she grew weaker as time progressed, culminating in her collapsing without a proper reason. Soon the doctors came in with a terrible verdict: Magical Burn-out. Not a month ago she had heard of Nabu, the fiancée of Layla, having put himself in a deep coma in the same way.

Hagen returned from Hoggar when her condition made the news, coming to visit her in her private mansion. She rested much since her collapse, but the decline was still progressing steadily. Combined with her old age, she would not end up in a coma, like Nabu, but she would die.

During his first visit they took a walk in the gardens. By his fifth, she could barely make the walk to the couch.

"Soon I won't wake anymore." She softly said, looking at the hands resting in her lap.

"You must." Hagen was never good at displaying his emotions: he never truly showed anyone how he felt. But she knew how to read him and while her body slowly was shutting down, her mind was still as sharp as ever.

"Hagen, we are not immortal, my old friend." She rested her hand on his. "Sooner or later we all must say farewell to the world."

"But not like this." Hagen stared at her hand, watching the shivers progress through the limb and feeling the cold of death enter it. "Not by withering away."

"Is aging not simply withering away?" Faragonda shifted a bit on the couch.

"Aging does not involve you dying in front of my eyes!" He rose from the chair he had been sitting on. "Look at you, Faragonda, you practically killed yourself because of Mandragora."

"I did what I had to, Hagen. As everyone should do." She looked away from him, looking on the painting resting above the fireplace on the far wall. "Our time has come to an end. We are no longer needed. Best to go down in a useful way."

"You do not mind this at all, do you?" He walked to the fireplace, looking up at the painting too. It depicted the Company of Light in all their glory, and more importantly, Faragonda in all her strength.

"I do mind, Hagen." She countered. "But I cannot change it. What is done is done, and I refuse to go and beg Bloom to heal me so I live a few years more. And neither will you." She added, fixing him with an angry stare. "Let her believe I cannot be saved."

"She would gladly heal you." He answered, half-turning to look at her. "You would not need to beg her."

"You will not tell her, Hagen, nor anyone that would tell her." Faragonda ordered. "I forbid you from doing so."

"You want me to let you die?" He rounded on her, his eyes blazing with barely concealed fury. "You want me to stand by as you wither away?"

"Yes." The silence descending upon them after that one word was oppressive. They stared at one another, Hagen trembling with anger, Faragonda with the progression of her illness.

He left then, without another word he stormed out of her house. He did not return, not even when her time had finally run out. Saladin and Griffin were there though, watching their colleague and friend breath her last. By then she had truly been confined to her bed and nothing had remained of their former splendor, save her eyes. Those still shone with the warmth she reserved for everyone. But that warmth had been tainted by grief. Even in her last moments he would not come to her.

She died alone, in a way. Because the man she wanted at her side was not there.

She would never know who all but broke into her house after she had died. She would never see the tears he shed over her. Hagen does not show emotion easily, his raising had forbidden him. But he wept now, after she had died.

They never had properly figured out the relationship they had had. Had they been friends with benefits? Had they been lovers? Had he even loved her?

He couldn't say, and it wouldn't matter now at any rate. She had died, and so had everything related to her. What did it matter if he loved her, she was not here at any rate…