It was Maron who forced him into the bath. Finneas had his own attached to his room. It was much less opulent than Maron’s, but it served its purpose well enough. Maron had, however, insisted on running the bath for him the moment they’d made it inside, filling it with scented oils and telling him he wouldn’t relax until Finneas did.

“Finneas, don’t fight me on this.”

He hated when he used that tone. He never really gave orders, but there was something in Maron’s voice that could command a room when it needed to. Having that focused on him alone sent a shudder through Finneas. He wouldn't argue.

“We’ll talk about this after. Now please relax.” Maron turned away from him without another word, closing the bathroom door behind him. It wasn’t that Maron was often silly, but the level of seriousness in his tone was alarming. It didn’t match his words well.

Still, Finneas stripped and lowered himself into the steaming water. At first, it ached. His bones felt as if they were ice cracking in the presence of heat, nearly painful with pressure before it subsided into ease. His fingertips burned when submerged, stiffening before the feeling slowly steeped back into them.

This was Maron’s way of taking care of him, Finneas realized, sinking further down, the hot water pressing against his ears. When he let out a soft breath through his nose, it sent ripples over the water.

Finneas closed his eyes, trying to gather his thoughts. He had been out of line earlier. He’d reacted when he shouldn’t have, anger taking over his judgment for just a moment. It wasn’t like him to lash out when called a dog–half the palace had referred to him as such to his face, and the other half he was sure had made the same comment in his absence. It didn’t bother him. It had never bothered him. If his loyalty to Maron was subject to ridicule, so be it. At least he had a conviction.

Still, worded just so, it had riled him. But what had it been? Was it just that someone pathetic enough to attack an unarmed prince in the woods had had the gall to look down on him? No. The opinion of someone so low didn’t matter.

The way the man had talked about Maron, though, as if he was some monster only keeping him around as a symbol of his own power, that bothered him. The idea that anyone would see his service as some ploy to gain his magic back, that Maron might consider his obedience as just an attempt to gain his trust and earn his power…He swallowed. Maron would never think that.

More frustrating, however, was that he did want it back.

To protect Maron, to keep him safe, and, selfishly, to just feel that piece of himself again, he wanted it. However, since that night in the car a week ago, Maron hadn’t brought it up. Joel hadn’t said a word about His Majesty’s response. If either of them had decided to allow it, they would have told him. Right? It wasn’t anything that man had said that bothered him. It was that this had been about magic at all. The last thing Finneas wanted to think about was his powers. If he ignored the idea that he might ever have them back, this was easier. This was his life now. There was so little practical application for fire anyway. Even if it might help him protect Maron or if it might just make him feel right, that wasn’t enough for him to be mourning or having fits over. It was better if he just didn’t think about it.

Finneas gripped the edges of the tub, squeezing his eyes shut. His fingers curled against the ceramic and he took a breath, holding it as he submerged his head in the water. All he had to do was not think about it. If he didn’t think about it, it wasn’t a problem. If he didn’t think about it, he wasn’t angry. He wasn’t frustrated that no one had said anything about it in the last week. He was fine. He was fine.

It had been fifteen years.

He was fine.

Finneas pushed himself back up, taking a deep breath and blinking the water away from his eyes. One more breath, filling his lungs with as much air as could possibly fit in them. Hold. One. Two. Three. Release.

He stood, drying and dressing himself, loosening his hair and letting it fall down his back in soft waves. It wasn’t very practical to keep it loose when he was working, but this day was likely shot– there wasn’t much he could picture either of them doing after everything today. With their only meeting canceled, the afternoon was free. He could be a bit underdressed or understyled if it was just Maron.

Finneas made his way out the door. Maron wasn’t in the bedchamber. He must have gone to the sitting room, then. Finneas opened the door to it, and paused for a moment. Maron sat on the sofa, a cup of tea in hand. Across from him sat Nadia, her shoulders slumped and posture demure. Beside her, a tall woman sat with her back perfectly straight, a teacup in hand. Her hair was pressed straight, done up in intricate braids in some parts and cascading down shoulders in others. Dressed in red silks, Her Majesty was the picture of grace.

Finneas bowed low. “Your Majesty. Your Highness.” It was odd, being before either of them while still fresh from the bath, his skin still hot and soft from the water, hair undone. “It’s a pleasure to see you both.”

“Finny, are you okay?” Nadia’s eyes were wide, her fingers digging into the fabric of her dress.

“I’m alright. Thank you for asking,” he said, moving forward to stand beside the sofa where Maron sat.

“Please sit, my dear.” Her Majesty, Queen Meredith, motioned for Finneas to take a seat. He followed the instruction, placing himself beside Maron, but being sure to maintain his distance. “You two gave us quite a fright. We wanted to stop by and make sure you were alright.” She placed the cup on the table before her, gently enough that it made no sound as it settled onto the porcelain saucer.

Maron leaned back in his seat. He had gotten into warmer clothing, and a thick blanket lay over his lap, his hands wrapped tightly around the glass in his hands. He should have taken a hot bath when they arrived back here to warm up properly. It was more important for him to be comfortable than Finneas. Still, he looked perfectly at ease. Perhaps this alone had been enough to thaw him. After all, he had ten years more experience with the concept of being cold, and he hadn’t been on the snow-covered ground today. “I appreciate you coming. Was father busy?”

It was a loaded question. Finneas was almost surprised to hear it.

Across from them, the Queen sighed. “You know how he is. I’m sure he’ll write to you in the next week regarding this.” It wasn’t a very good answer, but it was honest. “I haven’t spoken with him in almost a week,” she said, and then paused, taking her teacup in hand once more. “Let’s not worry about him, though. Right now, I’m more concerned with you boys. Are you sure you’re both alright?”

“All I did was stand there. I’m perfectly fine,” Maron said. His voice was steady.

“Finneas?” she asked.

He nodded. “I’m alright.” It wasn’t as though the fight had been especially strenuous. He’d had to outweigh someone, and he’d had to be cold. That wasn’t asking too much. “How are you two doing? I’m sure this is worrying for you as well.”

Nadia bit her lower lip, tugging it between her teeth. “I just hope this isn’t the start of something. It’s bad enough for one magician to get caught. People are going to be unkind about it regardless, but if it’s a group, I worry about…”

Meredith nodded, placing a gentle hand on her daughter’s arm. “We’re all going to work together to make sure that doesn’t happen,” she said. Even as she spoke to Nadia, her eyes were on Finneas. She didn’t glare, but her expression was difficult to read. Finneas hadn’t been around her often enough to understand what was going through her head. “Finneas, thank you for protecting him. I know it wasn’t too violent an altercation and that this is your duty, but it is your effort alone that allowed this to end so well. And, more personally, as a mother, thank you for keeping him safe.”

Finneas bowed his head. “Of course, Your Majesty.”

She rose, her long skirts falling around her in waves. Nadia followed suit, and Finneas couldn’t help but notice that she still held that nervous look in her eyes. It was strange. There had been other attacks on the palace, and other attacks on Maron. While she’d always come to check in on them, she was still usually her bright, bubbly self, insisting that they have a nice time to take their mind off it. Seeing her eyes fall to the ground and her smile lapse completely was unsettling. Finneas almost asked what was wrong, but that wasn’t his place. With the Queen before him, he wouldn’t press the limits of what was allowed. Instead, he just met her eyes for a moment, and frowned when hers darted away.

“We’ve taken enough of your time for one evening,” Her Majesty said. She leaned down, placing a hand gently on top of Maron’s hair, smoothing it. “Get some rest, both of you. And don’t be such a stranger, Maron. I know you’re busy these days, but… do stop by for tea or dinner.”

“Of course. Thank you, Meredith.” Maron turned, facing his sister. “And Nadia, come by more often. I’m afraid Finneas has seen you more lately than I have.”

The girl’s eyes widened, but she nodded quickly. “I will. Thank you.” The smile returned to her lips just for a moment. Though shaky, it was better than that solemn look she’d held before. It was a bit odd, hearing Maron request to have her around more. It wasn’t that he’d ever indicated dislike for her, but…royal families were distant.

Finneas stood, and Meredith waved him off. “I can get the door myself, my dear. Please rest.” Her smile was small and polite as she and Nadia dipped out of the room. Finneas had, in the brief moments he’d spent with her, always liked Meredith. He returned to his seat and let out a soft sigh, finally turning to face Maron.

“Nadia seems to have something weighing on her,” Maron said, his eyes falling shut.

“Yeah. It was sweet of you to ask her to come by.”

Maron nodded, but didn’t say anything else. Wordlessly, he brought his cup to his lips, taking another sip. He was the picture of calm, but he looked tired.

“Why don’t you sleep for a while,” Finneas started. “It would be good for you to get some rest after–”

“No.” Maron’s eyes opened and he placed his cup on its saucer, letting it clink against it. “Finneas, we need to talk.”

Author's Note

One last chapter for the year-- the second part will be coming later today!