Archive of Our Own ^beta

I should have followed him. I admit that now.

After I returned from Aslevjal through the stone,the Fool had already been and gone.

I should have gone after him then, should have gone with him, no matter what Prilkop said.

Now I know what he would go through, I know I would have given up anything, anything, to save him from that.

But it's too late for regrets. All I can do is welcome him, shelter him, heal him in my home.

When he'd arrived at our door, Bee and I had been sitting in companionable silence in my study, Bee doodling in her journal, her elfin face turned down, concentrating on her drawing, and I writing as I so often was. The only sound the scratching of pens and the crackling of the fire.

Just as I had been about to put aside my pen and call it a night, there came a knock, ringing through the house.

Bee looked up at me, questioning, and I said, “it’s quite late for a visitor, shall we go and see who it is?”
Bee nodded, so we went out onto the hall and watched as Revel arrived at the front door just before us, opened it, letting in the biting cold air, and was confronted by a dirty, ragged beggar standing on the step.

Revel stood shocked, as the beggar staggered on a short way and said, “ Please, Fitz, I need- where is Fitz, I need him. My-” and collapsed just inside the threshold.

My heart stopped within me. I bounded forward, determined to be there, to touch him for the first time in over twenty years.

Prophet. Fool. Friend. Beloved. Such things he was to me. I had missed him so very much.
But what had happened to him?
In no way was he the same beautiful, elegant Fool I had known in my youth.

He was gaunt and twisted, torn and dirty, his eyes sightless. But even as I thought, horror stricken, of what he must have endured, I was selfishly glad that he was here, in my arms, even if it meant things hadn't turned out well in Clerres, he was with me now, and safe.

I felt Nettle in my mind, aware something was wrong, say “What is it, everything alright? Is Bee?” But I only said, “ no, no it's nothing an old friend.”
And pushed her away, and out of my thoughts.
I wanted to be alone with this just now. Plenty enough time to tell them all about it later.
Maybe I should even have Nettle and her coterie come here, I didn't think the Fool to be in any state for travel and if he needed healing I thought the coterie was best placed to give it to him.

It was at this point when I remembered Bee and Revel. I had been sitting on the doorstep, clutching the Fool to my chest, and only now did I look up.
Bee’s eyes were wide and owlish, scolding me for forgetting her, even for a moment. Revel stood just in front of her, as if to protect her. My heart filled with warmth for the both of them.

I stood, still cradling the Fool, and said, “this is my dearest friend, he has come a long way, please help me get him to a bed.” Seeing him like this, dirty, covered in mud and blood and unspeakable, disgusting things, had nearly brought me to tears, remembering how the fool had always been scrupulously clean, even whilst traveling, something entirely foreign to me.

Revel nodded and led the way with a lantern. We walked down the corridor, and, with Bee following at my heels, went to find the Fool a room.

Some time later I felt Bee tugging at my hand. I had almost fallen asleep, slumped in my chair next to the Fool’s bedside. Bee said, “come on papa, aren't you going to go to sleep?” I sighed and turned to her, “alright. Come on then, I'll tuck you in, then I'll head off as well.”
Bee agreed, and after I had tucked her into bed, telling her I'd see her in the morning, I went to my own room, and crawled under my blankets.

But I could not sleep. I My mind was racing, thinking about the Fool, asleep in a room down the hall. Thinking I heard footfalls of enemies outside my door, creeping towards one of the people I loved best. Though they were simply the paranoid imaginings of my brain, I couldn't brush them away.

At last I decided to get up and get something sweet. Cook Nutmeg had made ginger cakes the day before, and I knew there were some left over.
I found them, in the cold echoing quiet of the kitchen, and devoured my little feast right there at the table.

As I walked back along the corridor, I heard a noise coming from the room where I had carried the fool. Immediately I darted inside, thinking someone had crept in to do him some harm.
The fool was twisting and struggling in his sleep, obviously in the throes of a nightmare, and being attacked only by his own mind.
“No! No. Please.. don't hurt me. Please!” His hands were up, as if to protect himself from invisible enemies.

I had a pretty good idea about what he was dreaming of. I had dreamed it myself many a night. My heart squeezed within me. I stumbled over, throwing myself into my chair, and took hold of his hand, “Fool,” I said, “Fool, wake up. You're having a nightmare.” The Fool's eyes snapped open, blindly searching, his hand jerked away from mine.
“Fool, Fool, it's okay, you're safe now, it's me, Fitz. You'll be okay, you can stay here with me, and we'll get you all fixed up,” I comforted, “everything will be okay.”

My voice had instinctively taken on the steady cadence Burrich had used on the animals in his stables. At any rate it seemed to have some effect, because he whispered, “Fitz? Is that you? Where am I?” His voice shook.
“Yes. It's me. You're in my home. Withywoods, where my father and patience lived.” “Oh.” he was quiet as tears began streaming down his cheeks, wiping uselessly at his face.
I said nothing, but knelt by his side, taking his hand again, and holding it tightly in both of mine.

Eventually his tears calmed, and he held my hand tighter. I told him, “you can go back to sleep if you want. I'll stay right here next to you. I won't go anywhere.” The Fool closed his eyes, my hand still clenched in his grip, “I know you won't” he sighed, and slept.

I woke up at some point during the night, and saw Bee was curled up on the bed next to the Fool's feet. I rearranged some of the blankets so that she was properly covered, and as I looked down upon my two loves, I heard the ghost of Nighteyes in the back of my head, This is pack. And I replied “Yes. Yes, my heart, it is.”