A/N: This is set somewhere between 6x02 and 6x10 and there is nothing to canon to disprove that this happened.
Written for writer's month 2021 Day 3 - word: outside/setting: wedding.
CW: mentions of death, murder and child neglect.
"Who would have thought we would be spending an anniversary like this?" Their silent treatment had been an especially hard slap in the face on days they would have celebrated together after the years they'd missed, torn between the Coven and the Company. But the sight of Roxy carrying the crow into her office since Griffin couldn't open doors or teleport with her magic trapped in the wings of a bird had her own powers cutting through her insides like glass shards. Her mother would be proud of the dark power she could draw from her feelings but it couldn't bring back the only witch in the room.
It was useless. Her pain and her anger and her heart full of nothing but care for Griffin's well-being were all useless while Winx were out there fighting girls just as young as them to save the world.
She held out a finger for Griffin to perch herself up on. "I was so happy when you married me. The happiest I've ever been." That smile might have left her face over the years they'd struggled through but it was still living deep in her bones. Carving the marrow out of there and hollowing out her skeleton wouldn't be enough to touch it once. "Was it because we were just girls who knew nothing of the world or was the world just free of evil back then?"
Griffin flapped her wings and screeched at her, as opinionated as ever despite the limited ways to show it. The blood red eyes of a crow were nothing like her golden irises but the look in them was so familiar. Faragonda was swept through the door to the past it opened.
Every little detail was popping out of the photo. It had to be the tangible happiness captured in the image that breathed life into it. Emalyn's dress was a radiant blue–the color of ocean water turned into a jewel–and her purple hair was braided in a crown around her head with golden lilies tucked into it faded into the background at the look of the serenity in her eyes and the tenderness of her fingers on Aryan's arm. His body was attuned to hers despite the sun scorching and blinding him before she'd pull him under the shade of the tree they'd grown outside their new home and his smile was brighter than the topaz of her engagement ring – now paler from all the light it'd seen over the years of their marriage. There was more love in a memory of theirs than Faragonda had seen from her own parents her entire life. Then again, she was more a member of the Sylvane household than her own home now.
"How do you picture your wedding?" She turned to Griffin who was religiously taking notes of the heavenly bodies and their movements.
"My wedding?" Griffin scribbled down a couple more lines before looking at her. All the light of the sunset reflected in the waters of Erebhus was gathered in her eyes. It would be too much for any other eight-year-old but it was the perfect aura of her lithe body. "I will marry the earth and grow roots with my heart so that no one will ever tell me again that my magic is unnatural." Darkness clouded her gaze, sheltering the heavy bitterness her voice carried from her chest.
Still, there was a picture unfolding in Faragonda's mind of the plants growing from Griffin's touch. She could see her with stalks of oregano and lavender twisted in her purple locks and peony blooming on her lips, with cacti down her spine and aloe sprouting from her arms, little daisies adorning her fingers and vines crawling up her legs. There'd be apple branches in her veins and pomegranate seeds in her heart. And her eyes could breed the loveliest of daffodils.
"That would be pretty."
Warmth flushed over her from Griffin's resolve. "It would be powerful."
Faragonda startled, the photos spilling from her hands. She hadn't looked at her mental image through those lenses. Power was always her mother's concern, not her own. If it was in Griffin's head, too, maybe it was time to open her eyes to what Griffin's friendship truly was – a veil for Griffin's curiosity about Faragonda's magic. Maybe to her best friend she was like the night sky – a mystery to study.
"What about your wedding?" Griffin ducked down to help her gather the photos. "I deserve a good party for all the fun I've brought into your life." Griffin grinned at her. And just like that she was in Faragonda's league again. She was her best friend, the person to spill her guts to.
"I haven't planned anything." How could she? Emalyn and Aryan had married into happiness. Griffin's happiness lay in the power to make the world of her dreams come true. And her own was out of reach like her family at the other end of the Magic Dimension. "I can't think of the future when the family I have now is hanging in the balance." Her nonexistent powers had left her without a past either, without a childhood. She'd been stranded outside the realm of love. All she had were Griffin's eyes capturing the eternal sunset of Erebhus.
"Marry me!" Griffin bounced on her heels.
"What?"
"You have me," Griffin grabbed her hand, the photos of her parents forgotten on the floor as silent witnesses. "You're part of my family. Marry me." A ring woven from tiny white flowers materialized from Griffin's magic. Fairy grass.* Griffin always complained about the name, the flower's beauty forever associated with fairies, but she'd never given up on her love for it. And she was offering that love to Faragonda.
She let Griffin slip the dainty symbol on her finger. "How are we going to get married?" They were far too little for that even if the world had forced them to grow up prematurely.
"Well, we do have a house." It was Griffin's house that her parents had built for their family. "So we should go out and plant a tree."
"Right." Erebhus weddings were traditionally held under a tree the couple had planted together outside their new home to show they could grow a strong life together even in the swampy land of the planet. Very different from Faragonda's home planet but that was fine with her. She only belonged with Griffin.
"Let's go then." Griffin dragged her out the door in a flash.
They ran into Emalyn in the corridor, the force of their enthusiasm enough to take down anything but her. "Where are you going?"
"To plant a tree. Faragonda and I are married now." Griffin held her mom's gaze and Faragonda flushed when Emalyn's eyes moved over to her and their joined hands. The ring would have wilted on her finger from her body temperature if not for Griffin's magic with plants.
Emalyn put a hand on Griffin's shoulder and the other on Faragonda's and bent down. Despite her gentleness, her touch was weighing so heavy on Faragonda's bubble it would burst it. "I'll help you pick out a tree but you have to promise me you'll take care of each other. Family is serious work and it would pain me to see either–or both–of my girls hurt or upset."
Faragonda looked at Griffin, her little heart ready to burst in her chest from all the relief she was holding back, waiting for permission to feel it. Griffin nodded and squeezed her hand, her expression not one of childish ideals but a promise of the heart and head alike. What came flooding in wasn't just calmness. It was happiness.
Faragonda waved her hand and the mirror image of her office was replaced with a big hawthorn tree in the frame on the wall. It was charred after the Coven murdered Emalyn and burned down Griffin's childhood home but it was still standing unlike the one Emalyn and Aryan had planted. It was tall and alive behind the damage – the true embodiment of power. If she could reach through the mirror and the bark and touch the flow in its veins, maybe it could lend her the love they'd grown it with to protect her family again.
Griffin circled her once before nestling herself in Faragonda's hands to encourage stroking of her feathers.
"I don't have the power to turn you back," Faragonda ran her fingers over trembling wings. Griffin's beak poked her right in the heart. "I know you forgive me. I just hope you'll be able to tell me so yourself some day." Hopefully, before their next anniversary. Griffin was no less of a strong character as a crow and nothing could break up their family but Faragonda needed her to be the strong one on their side to make sure no other families would be touched the same way.
*I'm talking about Gypsophilia that most sources referred to as Baby's Breath but it was called Fairy Grass a couple times and we'll take that for the story opportunities it provides.
