Chapter Text
Farah’s office is warm. A stark contrast from the cold walls and gold of Solaria’s kingdom. You shift in your seat and peer around the room taking it all in. Deep mahogany shelves are decorated with worn books and mysterious trinkets that glitter despite the low light. You turn your gaze to the light filtering through the colorful stained-glass windows and sigh deeply. Alfea was very different than Solaria, it’s warmth and charm immediately greeting anyone who stepped through its heavy wooden doors.
You are a part of Luna’s personal guard of specialists, a small elite team whose primary focus is to guard the queen and perform any mission necessary. Your team had been sent out on a recon mission to another realm after Queen Luna received intelligence of a possible incident involving a burned one. How someone could mistake a golem for a burned one was beyond you. Your team took a brutal beating from not one golem but four. The result of it landed you in Farah Dowling’s office at Alfea with a nasty injury to your shoulder.
You stretch your neck in hopes of alleviating the dull throb that lives in your shoulder and hiss at the painful tug. You squeeze your eyes shut and take a deep breath, focusing on your breathing in hopes of it distracting you from the pain.
There is a shift in energy in the room as you hear footsteps approach. Standing up you feel a tingle run down your spine causing you to shiver just as the headmistress steps into her office. Honey colored eyes meet yours in surprise as she walks over to her desk putting a stack of paperwork down.
“Ah, you must be the specialist Luna sent over for some extra healing,” she smiles warmly at you as she leans against the front of her desk.
You nod your head. “Yes, although any healing at this point is appreciated. Luna didn’t have much salve for it and the medicine reserves haven’t been replenished yet,” you say quietly, “I’m Y/N.”
She frowns a little as she eyes you subtly cradling your arm, “I’ve heard a lot about you actually. Luna speaks very highly of you, always saying that you are the best out of all the specialists. I’m surprised it has taken us this long to meet. I’m Farah Dowling but feel free to call me Farah, no need to be formal here.”
“Thank you, Farah,” you smile softly at her, “I hope it wasn’t all good things you heard. I would hate for you to get the wrong impression of me so soon,” you teased.
She laughs. And oh, what a glorious sound it is as it reverberates off the walls into the quiet office.
“Well…” Farah says straightening up and walking towards you, “I can see why she likes you.” She pauses in front of you and eyes your shoulder, “I believe Luna said it was your shoulder? Something about a golem?”
“Four golems,” you state with a frown, “It was a hell of a beating, I got knocked around a bit, but the rest of my team only sustained minor injuries. My shoulder on the other hand has seen better days.” You look down to the floor a bit embarrassed.
“Glad to hear everyone else is okay. I’m going to guess that you and your shoulder are to thank for that though,” she says warmly, “Did Luna have enough salve to the stop the infection from setting in?” Her honey eyes take in your appearance more. You are pale with dark circles under your eyes, and you keep your right arm close to your body. Her frown deepens.
You shake your head no. “It set in straight away but has stopped at my elbow. My shoulder was dislocated when it happened, so we think that has something to do with it.” You shrug with your left shoulder as best you can. “Where’s the infirm-“
Farah cuts you off, “May I see it?” she asks softly. Inquisitive eyes meet yours and for a moment you are taken aback with the amount of concern and sincerity in them. You are learning that Alfea isn’t the only thing that is starkly different than Solaria.
You nod and shift your weight as she slowly approaches you with her arms stretched out to push the Solaria fleece gently off your shoulders. She slowly guides the fleece down your arms and places it on the chair you were sitting in. You shiver and lock eyes with her. She’s even more radiant than you originally thought now that she’s so close to you. You study each other for a moment before she finally breaks eye contact and looks over at your shoulder. Her brows furrow as she reaches up with gentle fingertips to trace the dark lines of infection from your elbow up to the deep gashes marring your shoulder. You hold your breath.
“You must be in a lot of pain,” she states while studying the extent of your arm. Her fingers flex at the top of your shoulder where it’s still bleeding and swollen. She steps closer and you hope she can’t hear the racing of your heart. “May I?” She whispers while her hand gently touches your shoulder.
You don’t know what she is asking permission for but nod your head anyway. This woman is enchanting, and you aren’t about to deny her anything.
You feel the energy in the room change and then a deep warmth cascades down your shoulder sweeping away any pain in its path. You gasp. The pain that has radiated through your body for days is now nothing more than a light ache. She takes a step back from you and you see her glowing eyes fading.
“You’re amazing” you breath out astonished.
Something flits behind her eyes at your admission. You think you see a faint blush color her cheeks and can’t help but feel a bit of pride from it.
“Magic,” she wiggles her fingers at you before turning around to open a drawer in the bookcase behind her desk. “Take a seat, I’m going to handle this myself instead of sending you to the infirmary. Your wounds are serious, and I suspect you are giving Luna more credit than she deserves in the treatment of this.” She turns around towards you with a jar in her hand full of lime green goo, “Did they even put a drop of this salve on it?”
You look down at your feet.
“As I suspected. And she waited 5 days before sending you here?” She asks with an annoyed tone.
You shift in your chair and tilt your head to the side to watch her walking towards you before sighing, “7”.
She lets out a frustrated sound and shakes her head. Before you know it, she has dragged a chair to sit in front of you with the jar in her lap.
“I’m going to put this on the gashes at the top of your shoulder. It should help with the infection and some of the swelling. Is that okay?” she asks gently.
You nod.
“You have to tell me if the pain is too much, I should be able to take more of it away, but I can’t take all of it” Farah instructs.
“Do you…” you pause looking sheepishly at her, “Do you feel the pain when you take it away like that?”
“I feel it… I only feel it when I’m in the act of taking it away. If that makes sense?” She takes some of the green goop and starts applying it to your shoulder.
You try not to wince but feel her movements still for a second, seemingly in tune with you.
“I’m fine,” you say quickly, “Keep going.”
She sighs and continues to focus on the deepest cut you have, keeping her movements feather light.
Farah is so close to you that you realize you’re smelling her perfume or maybe her soap. It’s something like eucalyptus and clean laundry mixed with something else. You can see fine lines around her eyes as she stays focused, and you can see that some of her hair has escaped the intricate twists she had done this morning. You fight the urge to push the hair back behind her ear when a sharp sting pulls you out of your reverie.
A groan escapes you and Farah immediately pulls back to look into your eyes. You can feel the energy in the room start to shift and before her eyes begin to glow you reach out with your left hand to hold hers, “No don’t. I don’t want you in pain” you say to her earnestly, “I’m okay. It just… stings a lot.”
Farah looks at you in surprise, “How did you know I was going to-?”
“I felt it” you say looking at her and releasing her hand. You miss the flash of emotions in her eyes as you look over at your shoulder finding it’s mostly covered. “You didn’t say this stuff would sting,” you narrow your eyes jokingly at her.
“You didn’t ask,” she quipped back with a teasing smile.
You roll your eyes, “What else are you keeping from me?” you ask while trying and failing to make yourself look suspicious.
She grins, “Wouldn’t you like to know”
You bite your lip in amusement as you stare into warm eyes that searched yours.
“I’ve always been curious about how you and Luna managed to grow and sell weed here for four years without getting caught.” You ask slyly.
Farah’s eyes go wide, and you can’t help but laugh.
“How do you-“ she starts asking.
“There are some perks to being in Luna’s elite circle, especially when wine is involved and she’s in a storytelling mood.”
Farah swats your knee, “I can’t believe she told you that!”
“Ah so you admit to it! Did you grow it in the greenhouse using light magic to block it? Or did you grow it in the forest?” you ask excitedly.
Your energy is infectious, and she is smiling ear to ear, your shoulder temporarily forgotten.
She’s shaking her head at you, “Pfft you really think we would grow it in the two most obvious spots?”
You grin at her, “Is it still here…do you still grow it? I bet it’s strong.”
She rolls her beautiful eyes at you, “Not as strong as the whiskey I brew.”
Now it’s your turn for your eyes to go wide before cheekily adding, “I can be the judge of that.”
She bites her bottom lip, and her eyes are alight with mischief and something you can’t read, “We’ll see.”
You grin victoriously, “We will.”
You gaze at each other, a tension building in the room between you as smiles fade and cheeks redden.
You shift and accidently bump her knee with the jar on it breaking the moment.
Farah takes a deep breath and looks at you, “Ready?”
“Ready when you are,” you answer.
The last of her work goes quickly but the stinging only increases as she finishes the last touches. A hiss escapes you as she puts a little extra on the top of your shoulder and she stops. Just when you’re about to say something you feel cool air being blown over your arm followed by instant relief. You shiver and feel goosebumps breakout across your skin in its wake. That’s not magic. That’s all Farah.
The air feels charged as the headmistress leans back in her chair and studies you. The stinging in your shoulder is slowly returning and pulling you away from those mesmerizing eyes as you peak over at her handy work.
“I need to bandage it,” Farah says apologetically while standing up to head over to the drawers behind her desk again, “But first I need you to drink this herbal tea. It’s going to make you groggy but it will really help with the infection.”
“How bad is it going to taste?” you ask making a face.
Farah looks over her shoulder at you and gives you a look that confirms your suspicions.
“That good huh?” you ask, “Maybe it could use… a chaser?” You grin at her cheekily.
Farah snorts and mumbles, “incorrigible.”
“You don’t know the half of it” you quip.
Farah shakes her head but waves her hand over a shelf to the far right of her, which opens to reveal an impressive liquor collection. You’re pretty sure she can sense how giddy you are at this turn of events but Farah continues to take her time making the tea and grabbing bandages from another cabinet. She turns around towards you with a tray in her hands that has everything on it except the amber liquid you were hoping for. You frown. She walks towards you and places the tray on the side table next to your chair. The headmistress picks up the steaming teacup and places it in your left hand carefully, “Stop pouting and drink this.”
She turns away from you and heads towards the hidden liquor cabinet. You see her reach towards the very back of the cabinet, her arm disappearing completely. “You need to drink it while it’s hot” she says to you without turning around.
You look down at the steaming cup of tea in your hand and sigh. The taste is awful, somehow being both bitter and spicy at the same time. You force a few sips down when Farah’s laugh causes you to look up. She’s carrying two crystal glasses and a glass bottle of deep amber liquid with no label.
“I promise this will help,” She sits in the chair across from you and starts pouring into the two glasses. You set the tea down on the table and reach for the one she’s handing you. “Remember you still have to finish that tea before it gets cold.”
You ignore her comment and hold your glass up to toast with her, a huge grin on your face as you look to her. “Is this what I think it is?” you ask.
“I won’t tell if you don’t,” Farah touches her glass to yours and takes a sip.