I'd want you beautiful and pale, the way I've dreamed you were
Set after Gwendolyn's story in the game, but before the Apocalypse. I haven't started on the Apocalypse yet, so I don't know whether this piece is truly feasible or not just yet.
Title taken from the 31 Days theme for March 23, 2007.
They walked through the unmarked paths of the forest together, moving through the lengthened shadows and the brief, brilliant pockets of sunlight shining through the canopy of trees. He was fully armored and fresh from another killing field. His wife had journeyed to the edge of the forest to greet him; she wore her mother's dress. They talked of small matters, addressing each other softly, drinking each other in through their eyes. When they moved, however, he walked ahead and she trailed behind, where she could see his back but not the thoughts that milled about in his head and made their mark upon his face.
Before that one fateful embrace, Oswald had thought that he could content himself with loving Gwendolyn from a distance. She was, at different points in time, the sad-eyed princess, the steel-hearted warrior, the spoils of war and the distant wife… theirs was a strange love, as surreal as its origins, and because he had so little to hold on to Oswald was not willing to risk anything more. As such, in spite of the fact that they had exchanged vows and sealed their bond with the Ring of Titrel, Oswald remained careful. That he knew Gwendolyn loved him was enough, he told himself. He did not need anything more.
What he had not counted on was that his heart — worn and barely used in terms of emotion — would speak out against his will for the first time in his life. He had not imagined it would be difficult, if not downright impossible, to live with Gwendolyn in the castle and constantly remain drenched by her light, or surrounded by objects that were invariably touched by her presence. Being with her destroyed him: she did so slowly and sweetly, but it was destruction nonetheless. He was too frightened of losing her to save himself.
They arrived at the old stone bridge without incident. Oswald was already standing on the other side by the time he realized that his wife had not crossed with him. He turned back, looking at her askance.
"Gwendolyn…?"
"My lord," she murmured. "Are you not happy?"
"Of course I am," he immediately replied. Her question honestly bewildered him. "You and I are finally together. I could not be happier."
"Then why have you not touched me?"
The wind was moving across the lake, tossing leaves and painting ripples across the surface. It was coming from the east — a sign of a long summer. Oswald crossed the distance between them and embraced his wife because he knew that words would fail him. In the absence of speech, Gwendolyn listened to Oswald's heartbeat: it was the only thing she needed to hear in order to understand.
They parted ways upon entering the castle, retreating to the respective corners of their world until dinner united them again. After the meal, Gwendolyn had her handmaid bathe her in rosewater, dress her in the purest silk. She made the journey to her lord's chamber alone, knocked once, and waited for no acknowledgment before entering. She approached the bed, where she knew Oswald was waiting.