Author's Note: Happy Holidays everyone!
Intoxication: Chapter Twenty-One
Don't panic
No not yet
I know I'm the one you want to forget
Cue all the love to leave my heart
It's time for me to fall apart
Now you're gone
But I'll be okay
Your hot whiskey eyes
Have fanned the flames
Maybe I'll burn a little brighter tonight
Let the fire breathe me back to life
Baby, you were my picket fence
I miss missing you now and then
Chlorine kissed summer skin
I miss missing you now and then
Sometimes before it gets better
The darkness gets bigger
The person that you'd take a bullet for is behind the trigger
Oh, We're fading fast
I miss missing you now and then
-Fall Out Boy, Miss Missing You
Despite the worries of farmers and lords alike, the frost held off until harvest time, allowing the crops to come to fruition. This year's yield looked to be the best in recent memory. Sofia found some small delight that the Harvest Festival would commence after all. She'd feared it's cancellation due to poor weather, and it was one of her favorite celebrations of the year. The day of the event rose chill, but sunny. She was just on her way out when her mother caught her in the entryway.
"Sofia, I was hoping to speak to you."
"What's up, Mom?" She finished tying the bow of her cloak under her chin, eager to be on her way.
Worry crinkled the corners of her mother's eyes. "I've been wanting to talk to you about, well , about everything happening lately. I feel like we haven't had a chance to catch up."
"If it's important, I suppose we could talk now."
The queen chewed her lip in a familiar gesture. "Maybe now isn't the best time. You're on your way out, and I want you to have fun today. Perhaps we could make a point to speak later."
"Of course."
"Good. That's good. But, while I have you, I did want to ask, did you and Amber have some sort of falling out? Things seem a little frosty between you."
"Yes," the princess sighed, "We had a bit of a fight last week, just after the return from Tangu. I think I may have been a little harsh with her."
"You? Too harsh on your sister?"
"We disagreed about something, but in her own way, I know Amber was only looking out for me."
"Anything I can help with?" Her mother asked sincerely, perhaps even eagerly.
"Not really." Sofia's smile was sympathetic. She used to tell her mother everything, but not anymore, something her mother was aware of surely. "Are you and Dad going down for the festival?"
"We're to survey the winter stores before watching the parade. I think James is already down there. I'm not sure where Amber is. She said something about being far too busy for a 'silly village fair'. Wedding preparations, no doubt."
Sofia felt a twist of guilt. She hadn't spoken to Amber since the day in her room. Though the fault wasn't entirely hers, she'd made no attempt to seek her sister out.
Miranda sighed. "I miss the days when you were all children and I could keep you under my watch. Sometimes I feel there's so much I'm missing."
Sofia's smile softened. "You don't have to worry. You raised us to take care of ourselves."
"I'm your mother," the queen replied, her mouth turning down at the corners. "I'll always worry. That's part of the job. And it's also my job to be there for you." She set a hand on her daughter's shoulder, looking her in the eye, "I am here for you, Sofia, no matter what. I don't want any of you to ever feel that you have to face things alone."
Now it was Sofia's turn to bite her lip. "I know that."
"Do you truly? I didn't think I needed to say it, but you can talk to me if you need to. About anything."
Sofia looked into her mother's worried eyes and wondered again that she didn't know more than she was letting on. "I know that, Mom."
A moment passed, but when Sofia refused to fill the silence, Miranda wrapped her in a hug. "When you're ready to tell me what's been bothering you, I'll be here to listen."
Her immediate instinct was to give a flippant response to cover the sudden tightness in her chest. But Sofia couldn't find it in her to lie, not when her mother was being so understanding. She just wasn't sure that understanding would extend to the truth. Not for the first time she wondered if she should feel ashamed, if not for losing her chastity, than at least for leading Sebastian on under false pretenses. Of the two, she felt worse about the latter. She couldn't feel shame for the former. To her mother, she simply said, "Thank you."
Miranda smiled sadly, "Where did my little girl go? It was so much easier to help when the problems were smaller."
"My problems were rarely small," Sofia scoffed honestly, "But you made them seem that way. The answers were so much clearer then."
"I only ever told you to do what was right in your heart, even if the answer wasn't easy."
"What if what my heart wants is not only difficult, but impossible?"
"Impossible?" The queen laughed lightly. "I'm surprised to hear you talk like that. Nothing is impossible, Honey, just something more difficult than others. Just know that I will always help you in any way that I can."
Sofia leaned into her mother's arms, hugging her again, tighter. "Thank you, Mom. I ... I think I needed to hear that. Or something like it."
"Always, my darling." Miranda pulled back after a moment, offering a reassuring smile. "Now, for today, try to have some fun, if you can."
"I'll try."
The reason the Harvest Festival was one of Sofia's favorite events was because she got to pretend to be a villager once again. Off went the fluffy ball gowns, tiara, and jewels. Today she wore a simple dress, cinched in at the waist and cut to her mid-shin. Woolen hose kept her legs warm against the cool October breeze. The chill air fill her lungs and caress her rosy cheeks as she walked the lane down from the castle. Carriages and carts clogged the bridge to Dunwhitty, bringing stores to the castle kitchen. Even from a distance the village looked quaint and festive, garlands and ribbons strewn from every house and shop. Carts lined the street, bursting with food and wares. Today, she'd do as her mother suggested; she'd shuck off the mantel of princess and simply have fun like any other young woman her age.
Entering the main road, a pair of sweethearts passed her on their way to the fair. The man tipped his hat while the young lady bobbing in a shallow curtsy. "M'lady," they offered in greeting. She smiled, nodding in acknowledgment. They looked no older than herself, strolling arm in arm, sharing flirtatious glances and quiet words. She watched them go, a wistful longing filling her. It was hard to imagine how her life would differ had she remained a villager, but she found it easy to imagine herself strolling casually down a village lane holding the hand of a beau, one of her choosing. One she cared for. One she wanted. She couldn't help thinking how a royal sorcerer would prove a high prize for a simple cobbler's daughter.
As a young child she used to play pretend, wearing her mother's apron for a ball gown. Jade, topped with her father's worn old hat and too-large boots, played the prince. Ruby, an old blanket tied over her shoulders, provided the obligatory wicked witch. The prince had to rescue the princess from peril, or sometimes they other way around. They took turns in each roles, but Sofia much prefered playing the princess sent to rescue the prince. The day her mother told her she was going to marry the king and Sofia would be a real princess was the happiest day of her young life. And she couldn't deny that many happy days had followed; many adventures, friends made, and wonderful memories that would never have happened had she remained the daughter of the village shoemaker. Perhaps she would never had cause to ever meet Cedric, let alone know him.
She turned her eyes from the smitten couple, wondering that she didn't feel more grateful.
Once inside the fair proper, Ruby spotted her, waving from beside the apple vendor. Jade was there also, picking out a pastries. Sofia hugged them each in turn, listening with interest as they caught her up on life in the village. Jared came to meet them, carrying little George in his arms. At half a year old, the baby looked around with interest, taking everything in with stoic equanimity. Being with non-royal friends helped her feel at ease, even as Jade inquired avidly after every detail of Amber's engagement. Sofia patiently relayed every detail. But when Jade's interest shifted to Sofia's own royal courtship, Ruby pointedly elbowed the other woman, interjecting enthusiastically about the sudden bout of good weather instead. Whether because they were out in public, or care for her feelings, Sofia knew they were avoiding the subject of Sebastian, and her ill-fated affair with Cedric. Whatever the reason, she was grateful for it. When she bid them good-bye, she promised to visit again when they could speak more privately.
She wandered about, not having much fun after all. Villagers every few feet stopped to greet her or give a respectful nod. She acknowledged them all with polite acknowledgement, but their deference only reminded her that she was no longer one of them, no matter how she dressed. In a sea of people, she felt terribly lonely. Dejected, she thought about just going back to the castle when she spotted Lucinda coming towards her through the crowded street. They hadn't seen each other since that day in Ruby's parlor. And while she'd probably be subjected to some uncomfortable questions as they caught up, Sofia needed the friendly company more.
As the witch neared, Sofia smiled with sincere warmth, but Lucinda didn't pause, throwing the princess into a tight hug that nearly choked the air from her lungs.
"Oh, you poor thing," Lucinda crooned, showing an uncharacteristic amount of concern. "How are you holding up?"
"Um, alright." Sofia stepped back, confusion plain on her face. Lucinda had no way to know what was troubling her, and even if she did, the witch was more prone to offering a stiff drink than a hug. Her motherly concern was worrying. "Why? Is there some reason I shouldn't be?"
"You mean you don't know? Everyone at Hexly's talking about it. I figured you knew. It's just a rumor for now, but ..."
"But, what?"
Lucinda looked around before taking her by the arm, leading them to a secluded place behind one of the gaming booths. "It's your sorcerer, Cedric. It's all anyone's talking about back at school. He's accepted a teaching position at Hexly."
"What?" Sofia blinked. "No, that can't be."
"Like I said, it's a rumor right now, but the whole school is buzzing with it. A former royal sorcerer coming to teach at a place like Hexly is a big deal. They say he's going to be Master of Potions. Professor Darvish was supposed to get that job when Professor Polax retired next year. Word is when Cedric showed an interest, Dean Trawler forced Polax into early retirement. Oh, Sofia," she gasped in sympathetic pain. "He's supposed to begin teaching at the first of the year."
Sofia's mind was sent reeling. She thought back over the past two months, over Cedric's strange absences, his meetings with the king, his detached demeanor towards her.
He was leaving. Cedric was leaving.
"But," she mumbled, trying to stop the accumulating wave of realization, "What about Enchancia? The kingdom needs a royal sorcerer."
Lucinda twisted one of her braids around her finger and Sofia got the sense her friend felt guilty. "There's been talk for weeks now. It's all been very quiet but magic handling families are all a bit inter-related. Almost everyone at school knows someone who's been approached as a possible replacement."
"And you're just telling me this now!" Sofia shouted, anger flooding her veins. It wasn't fair to Lucinda; this wasn't her fault, but Sofia felt suddenly betrayed.
"I didn't know if it was true," Lucinda cried in her defense. "You know how sorcerers are. They're always trying to make themselves sound more important. At first I wrote it off as a bunch of bragging and bluster, but when I heard about the change in staff ..."
Sofia stared hard at the witch, wanting nothing more than to rail at her, but she that wouldn't solve anything. Lucinda was her friend and only kept the news to herself until she knew there was something of truth to report. Sofia's shoulders dropped, the warmth of her anger leaving her. "It's true. He's really going."
Cautiously, the other girl drew her into a gentler hug than the last. "It looks to be that way."
"Why didn't he tell me?" She mumbled, feeling as pathetic as she sounded. "Why didn't anyone tell me?"
The anger that had leech from her began to rekindled. Why hadn't anyone told her?
After stalking her way through half the village, she found him in the eastern fields, enchanting a crop of pumpkins. The vines of each plump fruit curled into an approximation of legs, their wide leaves acting as feet. The farmers watched in fascinated amusement to see their crops walk themselves into the waiting carts.
Cedric supervised, an aloof expression on his face, but when he caught sight of her stomping towards him, his right eyebrow rose with interest. She didn't stop until she was barely two feet from him.
"Your highness," he scanned her peasant garb, before looking to her face with the same bored disinterest he showed the vegetables.
Sofia's petite frame shook. Narrowly, she just managed to keep from slapping him. "Is it true?"
His aloof expression wavered. "Is what true?"
"Are you leaving Enchancia?"
His lips pressed tight with resolve. "Yes."
She stared at him wordlessly, a torrent of questions and words running wild through her head. There was too much to say, so she said nothing at all as her anger morphed into pain. "Why?" she croaked.
He sighed, turning back towards the fields. "You know why."
"Do I?" She snapped, her voice laced with feeling. "And how would I know that? We don't talk anymore. You've barely even looked in my direction in months."
"I thought it best."
"Oh," her laugh was low and bitter and wholly unlike her. "You thought it best. I wonder when people will actually start including me in their decisions of what's best for me."
He continued on with his work, the last of the vegetables crawling their way into the waiting cart before men began to wheel them away, tipping their hat in thanks to the sorcerer who made their jobs easier. Cedric put his wand away in his pocket, regarding her from the corner of his eyes. "I didn't say it was best for you."
His answer brought her up short, pink patches of embarrassment coloring her cheeks. She'd assumed his decision was for her benefit, a misplaced notion of chivalry; that he was falling on his sword for her. Part of her recognized that, of course, he should do what was best for himself, as she was doing. The rest of her rallied in anger, unable to let it fizzle into nothing. He'd turned and began walking away, done with his part in the harvest. She dogged his steps. He was a fool if he thought he could shake her so easily.
"You seem to be holding up just fine to me," she sneered, trying for flippancy, but sounding snide instead.
As they wove their way through the crowd of farmers milling about the edge of the fields, he sighed. "What would you have me do, Sofia? Would it make you feel better if I looked every bit as miserable as I feel? Believe me, the results would not be pretty."
His trademark sarcasm didn't faze her. "Well, you could at least look as if you feel something."
"Sorry to be such a disappointment, your highness." He wished she'd just leave him in peace. He didn't want to be having this conversation with her, especially here in so public a place. But then he'd had weeks to imagine how it would eventually happen, and they all ended badly. So here was a good a place as any, really. "This is the best I have."
How she found out, he could only guess, but really it was a miracle his departure remained a secret for as long as it did. When he first approached the king, this time armed with a plan, tendering his resignation for the second and final time, he'd been adamant that the news be kept quiet until his replacement was resolved and his new position assured. But if he was being honest with himself, really he feared a replay of his first attempt. If Sofia begged him to stay, he wasn't sure he could deny her, not matter how much he wanted - needed - to be gone.
"Well, you shall have to put in better effort with your new position at Hexly," her voice was laced with petty malice. He didn't blame her for her feelings, only lamented that he'd been the cause. She continued, "I wouldn't worry too much, though, I'm sure they'll be plenty pretty young sorceresses around to nurse your broken heart. That is, assuming you still have one."
He had to admit, she was good. She'd missed her calling as a mercenary, knowing exactly where to strike for maximum damage and effect. Here on the outskirts of the village they were mostly alone. He scanned quickly for anyone looking their way before grabbing her by the wrist, pulling her in close. She could feel the warmth of his breath on her face. "Did it ever occur to you that maybe I can't bear to look at you because it hurts too fucking much? That I have to go, because the thought of you with another is so insurmountably painful that I can hardly bear it. And while I recognize the necessity, I cannot be made to stand by and watch it."
Sofia's eyes widened. Cedric rarely swore, but she was beginning to see a pattern of intense emotion. The last time he did so was right before he kissed her. She knew he couldn't do so here in public, but the thought still set her pulse to racing. Desire blazed inside her at his closeness, at the heat emanating his eyes. His love had never disappeared, or diminished, only been banked like a smoldering fire.
His words were as relentless as his grip, making her face what the nature of their lives was doing to him. "My only hope, is that with distance and time, maybe, eventually every moment of every day won't feel like torture."
"I'm only doing what you told me to," she murmured, needing to make him understand that duty was all that bound her on her course. A course he helped forge.
"I know." His grip loosened, eyes closing to steady himself. "Believe me, I know that. And I am only doing what I have to."
"I thought ... I feared you didn't love me after all."
"Sometime I wish I didn't," he huffed, "My life would be so much easier. But I do, and I can't seem to stop, no matter how much I tell myself no good will come from it."
Her eyes caught his, and she knew that naked longing was pouring from her own. At the moment she didn't care about titles or duty, only Cedric mattered. Only this pain they shared, and how they might slake it even for a moment. His eyes flitted down to her lips and she swayed forward, shamefully eager.
He released her abruptly, turning away as his long strides left her behind. Embarrassment flashed through her, followed quickly by annoyance. He was always running away from her. She gathered up her skirts and chased after him, jogging to keep up. As he climbed into one of the waiting royal carriages, she piled in after him, unwilling to let him get away.
"Are you going back to the castle, Princess?" The coach man asked, trying to cover his confusion.
"Yes," Sofia answered at the exact moment Cedric said, "No." The coachman's eyes flickered between them before stopping on Sofia's stubborn expression. She gave a terse nod and he hurried to shut the carriage door. Cedric glowered at her.
"What?" she canted her chin up stubbornly. "Being princess does have a few advantages."
The coach jostled into motion, taking to the sky to avoid the congested streets. Silence stretch out between them as Sofia glared stubbornly at his profile. He gazed resolutely out the window, his fingers drumming over his knees the only sign of his agitation.
Finally, he found something to say that he thought might help. "You appear to have adapted well enough. You and Sebastian seem to be getting on quite well. I expect, as everyone does, that you're marriage will be forth coming." He managed to keep the edge of bitterness from his tone, but he continued to gaze out the window as he couldn't hide the pain that tightened the corners of his mouth.
"I haven't adapted," she snapped with a surprising hostility. "I'm only doing what's expected of me. By everyone. Including you."
He hazarded a glance at her. Her pretty face was twisted into a frown, her brow creased with displeasure. This unfavorable temperament did not suit her and that she felt so bitter gave him no comfort or justification. Instead he felt a kindred sympathy.
He tried to offer her something of comfort, even if it cost him much to say it. "This prince, he obviously cares a great deal for you."
"Don't you think I know that?" She implored, sounding defensive and anguished at once.
Gods, he never meant to make her so unhappy. The desperate misery in her eyes was killing him. He felt her pain like his own wound. Did he want to know? Could he stand to know? "Then why are you not happy with him?"
"Because I don't love him!" She shouted. She searched his face for some response, some emotion to match her own. The feelings inside her felt like they were ready to burst out, and she couldn't contain them any longer. "I can't love him," she realized, "Because I'm in love with you."
The moment the words left her lips she knew them to be absolutely true.
Cedric stared in stunned silence, a subtle war of emotion crossing his face. "You shouldn't," he whispered.
She turned her head away, scoffing softly. When her eyes came back up to his, he knew he was in dire trouble. "I just realized how tired I am of other people telling me what to do."
He saw the truth plain on her face, and tried not to feel the wild surge of elation that reared up inside him, so strong it made him lightheaded. She turned towards him, her eyes similarly taking in his features. In a moment she was leaning forward, and he couldn't stop himself from coming to meet her. Whatever he might have said in reply was lost when she closed the distance between them, smothering his mouth with her own and driving him back against the coach seat. He groaned when she scrambled atop his lap. She kissed him frantically, obviously afraid that if she let up he'd push her away.
His pulse roared in his ears, pounding out a rising tempo of need in his groin. He tore his mouth away, but only long enough to murmur, "Tell me again."
"I love you," she mumbled against his lips, before delving her tongue back inside his mouth.
He grasped her, clutching tightly. He should be pushing her away, but there was no chance of that now. Her desperate confession tore open the chasm of his need for her. He'd barely held on these past weeks, reminding himself almost every minute of every day that he needed to stay the course and follow the route he'd set her on. She was better off without him. But it was difficult to remember why when her willing body was writhing on his lap, grinding the soft, warm place between her legs against his quickly stiffening arousal.
She moaned softly, unhinging his sanity completely. He pulled her down, forcing her knees wide as she rocked against his lap. When she pulled away to breath, he moved to pepper her throat with kisses. His hands caressed her back restlessly. "Again," he commanded, needing to hear it.
Her hips rolled, and she knew her drawers were sodden. This time she whimpered, "I love you. I love you. I lov-"
He silenced her, fingers tangled in her hair, holding her tightly as his mouth bruised hers. Completely insensible, he was ready to shove her drawers aside and loosen his pants to tumble her right in the false privacy of the rocking coach. The tempting fantasy of Sofia riding him was cut abruptly short when the coach dropped, telling them both that they were descending and would land in a moment.
"Come with me," She panted.
"Where?" He would gladly followed her to hell at that moment if she asked.
"My room," she kissed him again and again. "Don't say no. Please."
There was no resistance left in him. Turning her away after her birthday ball took everything he had. Nodding, he pressed his lips to hers quickly. "Alright."
A violent jostle warned him that they'd touched down. He shoved her off him only a moment before the coachman opened the carriage door.
Sofia glared at Cedric, blowing a loose curl off her face. He ignored her, using all his concentration to appear unfazed in front of their audience. He said a silent prayer to any listening deity for the concealing folds of his robes. Sofia climbed out behind him, eschewing the outstretched hand of the footman.
"Will you be returning to the festival, Miss?"
"No," she barked, before recognizing her rudeness. "I mean, no thank you. I think I'll lie down for a bit. Please tell Mister Baileywick that I don't wish to be disturbed."
The servant bowed smartly, climbing back up on the raisers as the coach clicked off to the stables.
They stood on the steps together, alone except the late autumn breeze.
"We really shouldn't," he said, already turning towards her.
Her hungry gaze threatened to swallow him whole. The mingled pain and need in her eyes was not the petulant, fickle craving of a child, but the quite, resolute desperation of a woman. "I want you, Cedric. But I am through begging you to love me."
She gathered up her skirts, stomping up the stairs. He vacillated for a moment, knowing what he should do, but he was so tired of denying her.
He turned and followed.
It didn't change anything, he knew, but, for the moment the pain that would surely follow seemed a small price to pay. She waited at the castle entrance, just inside the door, her chin tilted up with stubborn pride. Taking a moment to meet her eyes, he found them free of pleading or tears. It was his choice, he could either come to her willingly or walk away, but the choice was his.
He stepped inside, closing the door behind them.
Author's Note: I didn't actually mean to leave the ending ambiguous whether he accepts her offer or not. He totally does. Next chapter is rated M. ;-)
If anyone feels the scene where Sofia confesses her love and Cedric demands she repeat the words seems familiar, that's because it is similar to Cedfia123's fic Free ch 9. At the time that she posted that chapter I had already written my scene. I messaged her, sent her my excerpt and asked if she thought I should change it. She gave me the go ahead to keep it the same.
And about Cedric leaving, that was always the plan from the beginning. When I started this story, over a year ago, I was still under the impression that he was an only child, so I didn't take into account the family line in his resignation. I feel like a bit of a cop out, but for the sake of finishing this story, I'm just fudging it. In this version there is no Calista to consider passing on the title of royal sorcerer. I figure you guys will forgive me in the interests of completing the damn story already. :P
For anyone who might be wondering, my update priorities are: Intoxication ch 22, then Lover Mine ch 12, then Into the Darkness Part II. But, best laid plans and all that ...
As always, your reviews make my day. :)