eiattu_pride | (no subject)

(no subject)

The past few days have been quiet, and people are noticing. The princess doesn't say much to her husband, the count doesn't joke anymore or make the princess laugh at inopportune moments. Rumors are floating around of marital non-bliss, and Rial isn't sure whether or not to believe them.

He knows one thing, though. It's getting harder and harder to pretend that there's nothing wrong.

And that's why he's up again. It's 0200 hours and he's sitting on the couch, staring at that wedding holo like he's done for the past few nights. He needs to tell Plourr, needs to talk with her. He knows this.

He can't make himself get off the couch and wake her up.

Maybe tomorrow, he thinks, or maybe the day after.

Maybe never.

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She listens silently, unwilling to unterrupt, and when he apologizes and stops talking, she finally moves around the sofa and sits close at his side. She leans up and kisses his forehead, and she tells him, "I understand. I know." She smooths his hair back, face close to his. "I know you had to do it. I would never have wanted you to accept their deal." Her eyes are awake now, luminous and serious. "But you need to listen to me, Rial, and listen well. I'm alive because you didn't give in. If you had signed those papers, the first thing they would have done was slit my throat." Her voice is quiet, ruthlessly honest; relentless. "You know how they hated me. They never would have released me." She touches his face again. "You did what you had to do, and you have absolutely nothing to apologize for. You have never failed me."

She slips her arm around his neck, propping her chin on his shoulder, in a fierce hug. "I'm not going anywhere. I think I've proved I'm pretty kriffing determined to stay here, with you."

He hugs her back, holding tightly and when he looks at her, his eyes are scared.

"But what if you do go?"

"I can't promise I won't. I only wish I had that kind of power. But I can promise that I'm not leaving you without the fight of my life. And if I did die--" Because that's what they're talking about here, euphemisms aside. Her knees tucked up, her cast resting on them, she cups his face in her other hand a moment, regarding him. "You'd go on. You'd have to."

It's not comforting but it's the bare truth, and Plourr is as honest half-dressed and half-awake in the middle of the night as she is in broad daylight.

He looks at her and there is only truth in his eyes, so he smiles as best he can and ducks his head to kiss her fingers.

"If I was living in the country with a wife and a couple of kids, bookkeeping for a living, things might be easier. But," and here he leans forward to kiss her gently on the lips, "I don't think I could ever love someone else as much as I love you."

Her end of the kiss is a little wooden; expectant. Worried. But then he's finishing the thought and her heartbeat, she's pretty kriffing sure, stutters. Raw, startled emotion, impossible to categorize, flashes across her face. She hasn't forgotten the way that conversation went unresolved, not even through all the madness. Her mouth turns up slightly. It's not quite a smile, but her eyes are expressing gratitude and thankfulness and quiet, fierce love better than a smile ever could, and she fumbles for his hand.

"It gets easier," she tells him softly. "You'll stop waking up to be sure I'm really there.

"It will get easier."

"Okay,", he says, "okay."

Because she doesn't lie to him, and he trusts her. If she says it'll get better, it'll get better.

"Did for me, anyway." She gives a small shrug, eyes on him.

Eventually. Eventually, she did believe that he was still going to be there beside her when she woke up.

"That's right." He remembers her face when she came back and he was there, alive, breathing.

They've both gone through it now.

They have. She wishes he hadn't.

She wipes gently under his eyes with her thumb. "You actually going to talk to me now, then?"

He wishes she hadn't.

There's a slightly shaky smile. "I promised, didn't I?"

In the spirit of reconcilation, Plourr says nothing of the way he left her in the bar. Instead, she says firmly, "Good," and rests her forehead against his temple.

Rial may just pretend that it never happened.

For now, he sits there, entwined with her, and smiles.

She catches the movement out of the corner of her eye. It's the first real smile, with nothing hiding behind it, that she's seen out of him in ages, and she can't help but smile faintly, too.

Eiattu is a warm planet, and it can keep indoor climate control systems working overdrive, at times. At the moment, the system is overcompensating for the humidity outside; it's set just a few degrees too low to be entirely comfortable. Plourr has a habit of sleeping in old workout clothes, which typically amount to next to nothing, and tonight is no exception. She leans closer to Rial's warmth after a few moments, her arm hooked around his neck, eyes closed.

He shifts a little, looping one arm around her.

"Bed? Unless you want to stay here for the night..."

She yawns into his neck, resting her cast atop his arm. "Bed," she says, without seeming to open her eyes (but she just might be watching him through a crack). "I like my back not twisted into knots."

"In that case, and he scoops her up with some difficulty, standing, "I'll escort you."

He really likes sweeping her off her feet, and still, he manages to take her by surprise with it, most of the time. Her eyes snap open.

"Rial, wait," she says, seriously, even if her hand is already on his shoulder.

He does. It makes him happy.

He stops, glancing down at her. "Yeah?"

"If something else is bothering you or you need to say something else, you'll tell me?" She holds his gaze steadily. "We're alright?"

"I'm your wife. I can't keep any of those promises if you hide from me. Please don't."

"I'll tell you."

He looks her straight in the eyes. "We're alright."

She rests her face against his chest, curling against him as best she can. She'll still keep an eye on him because -- wounds like that, they can't miraculously heal overnight. They can start to, though, and she thinks they will.

"Okay," she says.

Okay.

He carries her back to to bed, and slips down next to her, pulling the blankets over both of them and pressing a light kiss to Plourr's forehead.

"Goodnight."

It's an hour or so later that Rial wakes up, starts to sit up, eyes already going to her, making sure that Plourr's there, alive, breathing.

She is sprawled gracelessly on her side, unmistakably alive--still with a hint of sunburn across her nose and cheeks from the hours she'd spent riding several days earlier--and breathing slowly, evenly.

Rial sits up, leaning back against the bedstead, and watches her, automatically counting her breaths.

Not fixed, yet.

But better.

"Rial," Plourr says, eyes closed. "Quit it."

Rial starts, a guilty expression flashing over his face - and then he relaxes, and chuckles, lying back down.

"As you wish, my princess."

Yeah.

Better.

Rial sleeps with one hand holding her own, and a quiet smile on his face.

Better.

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