A/N: Time for a moment with my favorite priest and midwife. I really love their relationship and the little nods we get, but then I love the actors Colin O Donoghue and Rachel McAdams, and I can't picture anybody else in these roles. For those that might be following this, I hope you enjoy, and as I mentioned before, this is a rather long tale, so I appreciate your patience! I love all of these characters and am not quite ready to give up on them just yet.
Thirty-five-year-old Sophia Damas sat on the front steps of Notre Dame, watching the sky as the black and purple thunderclouds rolled in. She fidgeted with the skirts of her simple purple dress, one of her favorites, a gift from her father on her name day last year, a simple thing with flowers embroidered on the bodice, and sighed.
Pulling double duty as the madam of the brothel in town as well as her usual midwife duties was starting to catch up to her. God, she was tired...Thunder came like the prelude to a great song, impetuous rumbling permeating the air every bit as much as the sudden rain. At first it was a crack, violent to the ears, but after came a rolling sound that dissipated into the surrounding hills. The thunder rolled overhead like the fury of the gods. It tumbled toward them through the darkened clouds, spreading out into the night, hailing the promise of rain to the land below. "Here you are, love," came Darius's rich voice behind her as he took a seat on the steps next to her. "I've been looking for you," he said softly, handing her a chalice of water and a half loaf of bread. "Eat with me, keep me company in these dark days ahead, Sophia."
"I don't want to eat," she hissed angrily, venom in her voice as she avoided the young priest, taking a small bite as she ripped off a chunk of bread with her teeth, despite her previous statement. The bread had a crunch to the crust that brought so many good memories, and the crumb was that wholesome taste of rustic grain. In that moment of flavor, Sophia heard her grandmother's voice; she heard how she spoke as if each word contained a spoon of love and laughter. Perhaps that's why the villagers called such food "hearty," because it is made with such heart.
When he didn't respond, one sideways glance over at the distraught priest was more than enough. When he spoke to her next, his voice cracked and wavered.
"Will she live? Will she be all right?" was his first question. "Talk to me, Soph. How badly did she…?"
"Yes," Sophia whispered, looking up at the sky, anywhere but her lifelong friend who she'd known since the age of six. "She's out of the woods for now, but don't ever let her do that again. If she…if she faces another situation like that again, tell her to come to me," she answered thickly, hearing the anger and pain practically drip from her words as she spoke them. "I'd hoped nobody else would ever have to…"
Go through that as I did with Paul, her conscious finished for her bitterly and she felt her back muscles tense up as the memory of her own experience came to her.
Darius, ever the attentive man that he was, noticed. "Soph?" he asked, his blue eyes narrowing in suspicion as he had eyes only for his friend. "I know that look. Don't think of lying to me, love. What's wrong?"
"'Raised in a loving family,'" she scoffed, reaching for her wine skin and taking a deep swig. "I hate hearing that fucking shit," she growled darkly. "Where I grew up, there wasn't anyone who gave a shit about me except for Papa, and he was always away fighting a king's war. Nobody saved me from Paul. I saved myself."
"I did. I cared about you, and I still do. I always will, Soph, so how dare you speak like that to me," snapped Darius, growing angered now. "And Soph, you can't solve everything with a knife and a sword. I know you're Marcus's daughter, honey, but…" He bit his lip, feeling his unspoken anger begin to boil over. Everything was happening so quickly with the Barreau girl, and now he wasn't sure he would be able to protect her, if finding her in a state near death last night was anything to go off of.
"I'm warning you," she snarled lowly. "You better watch what you say around me, Dari. You know better than to piss me off."
Darius frowned. "You've been like this ever since that night the girl came to the cathedral. Was it our talk? You're not...jealous of her, are you?"
Sophia startled, tossing her dark hair back over her shoulders. "Who cares? I told you never to talk about that again!" she shouted, stomping her foot in a moment of frustration.
"Sophia," he began steadily. "I'm not going to apologize anymore," watching her carefully over the rim of his goblet as he drank.
Sophia's brown eyes widened as she gaped at him. Scowling, she folded her arms across her chest. "I must have misheard you, Dari. You better hope I did or otherwise you're a fucking dead man," she warned.
"Is that so?" Darius said, carefully to keep his voice steady, but it was no use. His temper was swelling. "In that case, I'll say it again! I didn't make any mistakes! I've nothing to apologize for! That's what I'm saying! This decision to join the priesthood was my choice. I didn't need to run it by you first, Sophia!"
Sophia bolted to her feet, her hand hovering over the hilt of her father's dagger she wore in a sheath around her waist. "You didn't think to join the priesthood was something to tell your best friend? Are you stupid? What am I saying, of course you are, I always knew you were stupid! That's a shame, Dari. You just stepped on a nonnegotiable big fucking landmine, Father. Like I said, a real shame," she growled, unsheathing it and holding Darius at knife-point. "There's just one last thing I need to ask you. What do you want on your tombstone? Father?"
Darius glowered at the shield maiden he considered his best friend. "Why don't you write, 'There's no cure for a fool with a sword.'" She moved so fast Darius barely had time to react, but he managed to wrench Marcus's knife out of her hands, holding it high above her head. "See that?" he demanded, having eyes only for the midwife. "There are some problems you can't solve with a weapon." He threw the knife away before Sophia could use it against him.
"You bastard!" she shouted furiously, but Darius didn't hesitate as he recognized the signs of the classic outburst, grabbing her arm and slamming Sophia against the wall of the cathedral.
"Who are you calling bastard, Sophia? I'm your best friend! You got that! I've had more than my fill of this shit! I've had enough! Madellaine almost died the other night! I see the way you look at her, Sophia, you're jealous! What kind of sick joke is this, Damas?" he bellowed.
"You fucking spoiled, arrogant son of a—"
"Arrogant?" yelled Darius, hardly daring to believe what was coming out of the midwife's mouth. "Why don't you try taking a good look at yourself, Sophia? You, you end up scavenging off corpses to survive, Sophia, just so you can drink yourself to death? Are you really that pathetic? Don't you have any pride left in you?"
"You really think you can judge me, Dari?" she shouted, wrenching away from his grip and taking a few steps back from him. "What do you know about my life, huh? What the hell do you know about me? Go on, why don't you tell me? A guy like you who spent his life in a safe little world trapped up here in your sanctuary has no idea what I've been through!"
Darius sighed, not wanting this continue, but she needed to hear this. "You're right," he said calmly, his fingers loosening their grip on her arm as he let her go. "There's no way I can know that, Soph. I'm not you, after all. But still, let me ask you this. Other than the fact that I'm a priest and we've known each other our whole lives, what do you know of me, Soph? It doesn't matter who you are, or how you live. In the end, we all have to suffer, right?" he said, feeling his voice go dangerously soft and quiet. He gripped his wooden cup in his hands hard enough to crack and splinter the wood. In a fit of anger, he chucked it over his shoulder and glowered at Sophia. "You have no intention of understanding that. Instead of owning up to things, you'd rather play the part of the tragic heroine. That's the most cowardly thing about you, Sophia."
He could only watch as Sophia's face drained of color and her face went ashen. Her rage held all the power of a wildfire; you could practically see the flames roaring in her eyes, ready to ignite anything that she came in contact with. Red. Everything went red. Her vision blurred as a flame curled in the pit of her stomach. Her brain went on overdrive as it picked every moment that she'd spent crying. The memories weighed down on her but instead of breaking even more, her heart turned ice cold and slunk into the shadows as her brain took complete control. The flames in her stomach rose up to her chest and crawling through her veins, took over the rest of her body. Her fingers coiled into fists, crushing the glass rods she'd held. The glass pierced the skin of her palms but she barely felt it. Waves of fury rolled off her as the blood rose to her cheeks. The term anger, barely even touched the tip of the volcano that she so clearly was in that moment.
"SHUT UP!" she yelled, kicking the wall in frustration as they walked away from the cathedral and prying eyes. "It's convenient for you to feel like that! Goddamn it, this isn't one of those stories that you love to read so much with a happy ending! There are no heroes in this life! And what's all this about pride? Fuck your pride! Look around you; it's shit as far as the eye can see. I hate to break it to you, but there is no fucking King Arthur or Lancelot to save the day."
"It's got to be better than feeling sorry for yourself, crying about your hard life," he spat venomously.
"Shut up, shut the fuck up, damn it, I—I'm serious, I'll kill you!" she cried, staggering backward, feeling her voice crack and waver in anger as her gaze never left Darius's blue eyes.
"Then do it," he retorted numbly. "Keep chasing your tail like a dog if that's what you want. If you kill me here, then you'll just end up proving me right."
Sophia let out a scream and she didn't know who threw the first punch, but suddenly her fist was in his face, dangerously close to his eyes. "THAT'S ALL I KNOW HOW TO DO!" she shouted furiously.
Darius felt the worst of his anger evaporate as he looked at his best friend square in the eye, seeing the heartbreak and pain she held there. "Did you forget, Sophia? The reason I ended up here, my family calmly cut my life away after I married Hanna. I was an afterthought, and all for what? To protect the family lineage, their estate and assets. And then, just like that, none of it mattered anymore. The one person who shook me awake, the one who invited me in…it was you, Sophia," he said quietly. "What concerns me now is that the one woman who showed me all this is acting just like my family who betrayed me. I'm not going to stand by and let that happen!" he retorted.
He relinquished his hold on her arm. Sophia staggered backward, pinching the bridge of her nose with her thumb and forefinger, as though she were getting a splitting headache. She let out a gasp and when she found her voice again, it was dangerously low and he had to strain to hear her speak to him.
"I don't know what you're talking about, goddamn it." She lifted her head and Darius saw with great relief the worst of her anger was gone now too. "Fuck it," she growled. "You're a real pain in the ass, you know that?' she snapped, jabbing her finger in his chest, shoving him backward slightly. "An idiot like you won't live long."
Darius felt the fury swell in his chest again. "We're both idiots and we both suffered, just leave it at that!"
"I'm pretty sure you're the biggest idiot here, dumbass."
"Getting mad!" he retorted hotly, his arms folded across his chest as he glowered at the pretty brunette that had secretly held his heart for the last twelve years, though he would never admit it out loud.
"Oooh, sounds scary! What are you gonna do, Dari, pray me to death?" she laughed wickedly.
"Hey, you two!" snapped a man's voice.
"Why don't you mind your own fucking business?" snapped Sophia, turning towards the man who'd spoken.
"Surprise, surprise," said Captain Phoebus, sheathing his sword and chuckling at seeing how flustered the midwife was. "I hear someone's making a ruckus at the cathedral and it turns out to be you again. Sophia," he scolded sternly. "Discharging your weapon without any concern for who's watching or where you are, and I'm the poor man who's got to put out the fire."
Sophia scowled, tossing her chocolate locks over her shoulders, the trademark sign in all the Damas women that she was angry with you. "Isn't that why I give you all those fat pouches of coins, Phoebus? Do I complain to you about my job, Captain?" she hissed.
"I'm not saying don't do it, I'm just saying do it where no one's going to see you. As long as you do that, I don't care if you kill people or play hide the apple for that matter. Out of sight out of mind means I don't have to cancel my brothel visits, Damas! Anyways, I'm bringing you in. There's work to be taken care of on my side, Sophia. Come on," he encouraged.
"Fine by me," she scoffed lightly, rolling her eyes. "Just…give me a minute, Doofus," she teased, ignoring Phoebus's flushed face. She turned back to Darius, whose blue eyes were now twinkling playfully.
"Hey, Darius." Her voice was soft and quiet as she leaned in for a hug, feeling his lean hard muscle underneath his habit. "Let me ask you this and there won't be any more trouble. I just want to know…which side you want to be on."
He fell silent, thinking for a moment. "I'm right here where I'm standing, Soph. I'm not anywhere else."
Sophia tilted her head to the side, in the same way, a dog would whenever it found something curious. The two stared at each other in an odd way, as if it were a silent argument. Their glances battled each other until tears arose, and they both found themselves crying. "Why'd you do it, Darius?" she whispered, her tears rolling down her cheeks with the same quietness.
He let out a groan, wiping his own tears with the sleeve of his monk's habit, always too big for him on his slender, lean frame. He wandered back towards the doors of Notre Dame, intending to go inside, but Sophia reached out a hand and yanked him back with surprising strength, much to his surprise. The midwife was stronger than he ever gave her credit for, and he silently cursed himself for ever thinking his best friend was weak.
Sophia felt an urge to do something, to comfort him, but also herself after such a horrible fight. In a moment, she pressed her lips against his, felt his body tense at first but then gradually loosen as his arms reached up and touched her shoulders. Darius's mind was screaming at him to break it off, to think of his vows, but at the moment, his senses had become seduced and he could no longer think straight. And he loved it. He loved the way her small body melted into his, the way their lips fit together like they were made for each other. The way she relented as he played with her hair, holding her tighter. When she broke apart first after what felt like an eternity in heaven that ended too soon for both of them, she whispered, "It's payback, Dari." Then they hovered right there, quite soundless for so long, simply feeling each other's presence.