"She's really depressed," Thayet murmured to her husband. Jon looked at the
female in question. Daine's eyes were rimmed with red, and she walked
slowly, as if exhausted with life.
"What shall we do?" He kept his voice low, so as not to attract her attention.
She rolled her beautiful eyes in exasperation. "Cheer her up." She smiled, and then the expression disappeared. "Oh, I'm going away with the Riders. Could you possibly do it? Please?"
When she looked at him like that, there was no choice. He murmured, "It would be my pleasure."
"Good." She spoke as if she was really pleased, as if he had chosen to do things her way. But that was Thayet. That was why he loved her.
"When do you leave?"
"Did I not tell you? We leave tonight." He raised an eyebrow, and she giggled. "Sorry. I've been so caught up recently..." She let the words hang in the air.
Mischievously, he grinned. "Leaving little old me with all these beautiful flowers?"
She turned towards him, so close they could almost kiss. "If even one plant's scent is on you, I will take all its petals off."
He smirked. "I would say that it is lucky I'm not a gardener."
"Retired men often return to their jobs," she teased. Laughing, he kissed her. The courtiers, used to such displays of affection, smiled and turned away. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Daine's expression sadden.
*
"Daine, could you come to my rooms for a second? I need you to help me." The young woman obeyed.
"What did you want?"
"Um..." Frantically, he wracked his brains for something to occupy her. "I want one of Numair's books." He bit his troublesome tongue after saying the name and waited for the explosion of words.
Luckily, she didn't react. Perhaps she hadn't noticed, or perhaps she thought of him so often that the mentioning of her old lover's name didn't affect her, didn't make her think of something that wasn't already plaguing her mind. "Title?" she asked dully.
"The 98th volume of Carthaki... herbs," he invented, praying that it existed. Narrowing her eyes, she led him to the library.
"Are you sure there is such a book? The Carthaki aren't exactly renowned for their herb-lore. I doubt they would have written one volume, let alone ninety-eight," she told him suspiciously.
Jon decided to abandon his pretence. "He will come back, you know."
She pursed her lips, disdainful. "I knew it. Why not tell me straight away? Why bother sidling round the subject?"
"He will," Jon repeated, ignoring her questions, questions to which he had no answers. Well, no answers that he liked.
Her head shook from side to side, curls bouncing with the movement. "He won't. Everyone tells me not to give up hope. What if I had no hope to start with? I knew something was wrong. I told him not to go. But he didn't listen."
"So you had no faith in your love."
"Let me out of here," she demanded, eager to escape this conversation which brought back all those not quite healed memories, but Jon stood in her way. His strong arms were folded, handsome face determined.
"No."
"Yes!" She grabbed the door handle from behind him. Like a stone, he refused to budge. In desperation, she looked into his face.
Jon stared into the upturned face before him. The blue-grey eyes were full of pain, and tears that had not yet been shed. For some reason, she reminded him of Thayet, even though she was completely different.
"Move," she hissed. It was his turn to shake his head. Her eyes closed in frustration. "Don't make me beg," she whispered.
In shock, Jon's eyes widened. He had thought Daine had been showing all of her emotions. Now he saw past her reserve as she fought to hide her pain from the world. "It's alright," he murmured. "I won't make you do anything."
Her mouth trembled, and she looked down. "I'm sorry." He pulled her into a tight hug, feeling her body shake with sobs. "It hurts so much."
"I know," he soothed. "It'll get better."
"What if it doesn't?" She drew away, hiding her face. "What if I never get over him?"
"You will," he promised. Suddenly, he needed to see her face. It was indescribable; as was the fact she had just tilted her face up to his. He touched the track a tear had left. "We'll mend this." Her smile was grateful.
For the first time, he noticed how perfect she was. "You're beautiful," he remarked. She blushed, but didn't turn away from him. Slowly, tentatively, he brushed his lips with hers, surprised by the rush of passion in his stomach.
*
(edited with thanks to quatre-sama)
"What shall we do?" He kept his voice low, so as not to attract her attention.
She rolled her beautiful eyes in exasperation. "Cheer her up." She smiled, and then the expression disappeared. "Oh, I'm going away with the Riders. Could you possibly do it? Please?"
When she looked at him like that, there was no choice. He murmured, "It would be my pleasure."
"Good." She spoke as if she was really pleased, as if he had chosen to do things her way. But that was Thayet. That was why he loved her.
"When do you leave?"
"Did I not tell you? We leave tonight." He raised an eyebrow, and she giggled. "Sorry. I've been so caught up recently..." She let the words hang in the air.
Mischievously, he grinned. "Leaving little old me with all these beautiful flowers?"
She turned towards him, so close they could almost kiss. "If even one plant's scent is on you, I will take all its petals off."
He smirked. "I would say that it is lucky I'm not a gardener."
"Retired men often return to their jobs," she teased. Laughing, he kissed her. The courtiers, used to such displays of affection, smiled and turned away. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Daine's expression sadden.
*
"Daine, could you come to my rooms for a second? I need you to help me." The young woman obeyed.
"What did you want?"
"Um..." Frantically, he wracked his brains for something to occupy her. "I want one of Numair's books." He bit his troublesome tongue after saying the name and waited for the explosion of words.
Luckily, she didn't react. Perhaps she hadn't noticed, or perhaps she thought of him so often that the mentioning of her old lover's name didn't affect her, didn't make her think of something that wasn't already plaguing her mind. "Title?" she asked dully.
"The 98th volume of Carthaki... herbs," he invented, praying that it existed. Narrowing her eyes, she led him to the library.
"Are you sure there is such a book? The Carthaki aren't exactly renowned for their herb-lore. I doubt they would have written one volume, let alone ninety-eight," she told him suspiciously.
Jon decided to abandon his pretence. "He will come back, you know."
She pursed her lips, disdainful. "I knew it. Why not tell me straight away? Why bother sidling round the subject?"
"He will," Jon repeated, ignoring her questions, questions to which he had no answers. Well, no answers that he liked.
Her head shook from side to side, curls bouncing with the movement. "He won't. Everyone tells me not to give up hope. What if I had no hope to start with? I knew something was wrong. I told him not to go. But he didn't listen."
"So you had no faith in your love."
"Let me out of here," she demanded, eager to escape this conversation which brought back all those not quite healed memories, but Jon stood in her way. His strong arms were folded, handsome face determined.
"No."
"Yes!" She grabbed the door handle from behind him. Like a stone, he refused to budge. In desperation, she looked into his face.
Jon stared into the upturned face before him. The blue-grey eyes were full of pain, and tears that had not yet been shed. For some reason, she reminded him of Thayet, even though she was completely different.
"Move," she hissed. It was his turn to shake his head. Her eyes closed in frustration. "Don't make me beg," she whispered.
In shock, Jon's eyes widened. He had thought Daine had been showing all of her emotions. Now he saw past her reserve as she fought to hide her pain from the world. "It's alright," he murmured. "I won't make you do anything."
Her mouth trembled, and she looked down. "I'm sorry." He pulled her into a tight hug, feeling her body shake with sobs. "It hurts so much."
"I know," he soothed. "It'll get better."
"What if it doesn't?" She drew away, hiding her face. "What if I never get over him?"
"You will," he promised. Suddenly, he needed to see her face. It was indescribable; as was the fact she had just tilted her face up to his. He touched the track a tear had left. "We'll mend this." Her smile was grateful.
For the first time, he noticed how perfect she was. "You're beautiful," he remarked. She blushed, but didn't turn away from him. Slowly, tentatively, he brushed his lips with hers, surprised by the rush of passion in his stomach.
*
(edited with thanks to quatre-sama)