#I headcanon that artham arundelle and esben were all friends as kids

[mozart-the-meerkitten]

@cyclonestudios-alt I have fulfilled the fanfiction request! I hope you like it :)

~~**SPOILERS for The Wingfeather Saga book 4, The Warden and the Wolf King**~~

Broken Together

Pairing: Artham and Arundelle from The Wingfeather Saga

Word count: 1225

Rating: G

Ao3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/45190897

Summary: Two weeks after returning to Anniera, Arundelle and Artham have an important conversation about their pasts and their future.

Maybe you and I were never meant to be complete Could we just be broken together? If you can bring your shattered dreams and I'll bring mine Could healing still be spoken, and save us? The only way we'll last forever is broken together -Casting Crowns, Broken Together

           Arundelle strode through the new grass of Rysen hill with a skip in her step, running her hands over the stones of the old castle as she passed them.

           She was looking for Artham Wingfeather. He hadn’t been in the little makeshift hut village that had sprung up in the two weeks since they’d returned to Anniera and she didn’t think he’d gone flying which meant he was likely here, in the ruins of Castle Rysen.

           She was going to ask him to marry her.

           Traditionally, of course, a man would ask the woman he loved to marry him. But she couldn’t wait any longer. So she was going to ask him.

           She had thought that he would ask her after they reunited, but there had been other things on his mind then- mainly traveling with his family to the First Well to restore Janner. And she didn’t begrudge him that. She just very much needed to know if he still wanted to marry her, if he’d still pledge himself to her after everything she’d been.

           (She deeply hoped he would)

           She found him where she thought she would, in the ruins of Esben’s old rooms. She had noticed him coming up here a few nights ago, and after visiting the site in the daylight she’d known exactly what it was. Arundelle had grown up in the castle, just like Artham and Esben, and she knew all its rooms and halls as well as they did (or almost as well, she was fairly sure there were passages in the castle they never told her about).

           Artham sat with his back to her, against the stones that used to make up the room’s fireplace. His wings drooped and his head was bowed, his sadness hanging about him like a shroud. Her heart went out to him, and she longed to take him in her arms and hold him until all the broken pieces of his heart came back together again.

           She took a deep breath and his head came up. He looked toward her, and when he saw her his shoulders hunched and his magnificent wings drew inward. He drew up his knees and wrapped his arms around them, head down once more. “Arundelle.”

           She sat beside him and he twitched, glancing up at her just a little. She smiled at him. “Artham.”

           He looked away quickly, but not before she caught the little blush coloring his cheeks. Her smile widened. He hadn’t changed that much, then.

           Then she sighed and sobered. “Artham I need to ask you something.”            He curled himself tighter, his wings closing in on him in a way she thought he must be unaware of. “Oh?”

           She looked down now too. “When we reunited… I asked if you would still have me. I have always loved you, Artham Wingfeather, since I was a little girl, and I will always love you, whether you will have me or not. But I need to know,” she turned to him, looking up and meeting his wide eyes. “I need to know if you still love me too. And if you do then I must marry you straightaway, no later than the morning. I’ve been apart from you for far too long, and if I am to be wed to you I will not wait a moment longer than I have to. So, Artham Wingfeather, will you marry me?”

           He stared at her. And stared. And stared. His mouth hung open a little and his right eye twitched ever so slightly. Emotions flew across his face too quick to track before they finally settled on a deep confusion and worry that made her heart ache.

           “Arundelle,” he said finally. “I- I am not who I was. I, I’m not a dashing hero, I’m not the man you loved when we were young. I-” his voice hitched and he looked away. “Something has broken inside of me. I-I left was I who, who I was, in the Theeps of Drog, Deeps of Throg. I’m something else now. The fire in my heart is gone, burned out in my fail, fail, failure.”

           He squeezed his eyes shut and pinched the bridge of his nose. “I’m not who I was,” he said in a cracked and shaking voice. “You beserve detter, deserve better than me-e-e.”

           He turned away and his breath began to come in shaking gasps as tears sped down his cheeks. Arundelle stayed still, frozen for only a moment before she reached out to him.

           She cupped his face in her hands and turned him back towards her. He stared at her in confusion as she pressed their foreheads together and wrapped her arms around him.

           “Artham, Artham,” she said softly. “I’m not who I was either. I lost myself in the Deeps too, and came out broken and scarred. My love-” her voice wavered and she closed her eyes, holding his shaking form tighter. “I will love you in your brokenness if you will love me in mine. Let us be broken together and strive to make each other whole again,” she lowered her head and tucked it under his chin, resting in his embrace as she had longed to do a thousand times the past long nine years. “Please.”

           His strong arms held her back as he pressed his face into her hair and breathed in. “Arundelle, I, I’m not, you don’t, I still lose myself to the madness and I failed him, Aury, I left him, I left him there in Throg, Aury, how can you want me after that.”

           She felt his tears in her hair and how his breath caught with sobs. She pressed closer to him, as if they could meld and become one and take each other’s sorrows.

           “You were lost. We were all lost, Artham. Esben knew that. He didn’t blame you, not for any of it. I don’t blame you for it either.”

           Artham made a sharp keening noise that rang in her ears and she reached a hand up to stroke his hair.  

           “Will you have me, Artham? Will you take my brokenness hold it with me?” she pulled back and looked at him, her hand coming around to cup his chin. “Will you let me hold yours with you?”

           He stared at her for a moment and she saw a spark of wonder in his eyes. Then he pulled her to him, arms wrapped tight around her, kissing her hair softly.

           “Yes,” he whispered in a shaky, watery voice. “If you- if you’ll still, if you still want…”            “I do, I do, I do,” she whispered back, running her fingers through his hair.

           Then she pulled back just enough to press her lips to his and still his stream of worries with a kiss. And after just a moment of surprise, he kissed her back.

           On the green of Rysen hill the next morning was a simple wedding. All the Annierans, former cloven and Fangs and lost humans, stood and watched as the Queen of the Cloven and the Throne Warden of Anniera were married. And all who saw it agreed that it was like watching the sun rise after a storm, like seeing the first buds of spring after a long winter, as the two broken souls joined together and, as one, started to mend.