Work Text:
When Zed didn't think Gritta was looking she would catch him smiling out of the corner of her eye.
Sometimes it would be while she was folding clothes, something she quite enjoyed doing. Sometimes it would be while she checked the wounds leftover from Zed's dramatic fight with the ToQgers. Sometimes it would be just when she was reading in the chair in her corner of the room, engulfed in the story but paying just enough attention to catch the small curl pulling at the edge of the Emperor's mouth.
It was always while his eyes were on her.
Upon returning to the darkness, Gritta had made a choice to take on the role of the Emperor's wife (which she technically still had, after all.) Zed was like a glass figure in a shipping container, mind and body damaged by the final battle, and (as she told herself) the morale of the kingdom would be better with the belief that his wife was simply stepping into her role as Empress. It helped that Gritta had grown almost fond of the Emperor. She wanted to at least protect his dignity.
Zed was bizarre but childish, friendly but aggressive like the young boys she had admired as she looked over playgrounds. They played with ants and beetles in rough ways but meant no serious harm in their own minds, just as Zed did. Gritta took on the duties that required being closest to the Emperor to save his face for that reason. Of course, this meant she essentially lived in his room, sleeping on the loveseat while Zed remained in his canopied bed, rarely leaving the confines of it except to hide away in his curtained off throne.
Zed didn't speak much anymore. Gritta had tried making conversation but the best she could get was a simple yes or no. It wasn't until almost a month after his return that she heard anything different. As she was putting clothes away in their respective drawers, setting her own few dresses aside, that the sound came from the canopy bed.
"Twinkle, twinkle, little star. . ."
She froze, almost startled by the sound. The Emperor was. . . singing?
"How I wonder what you are. . ."
The clothes Gritta had been organizing were set aside as she instead fluttered over to the bedside, overwhelming morbid curiosity setting over her.
"Are you feeling better, Your Majesty?"
She asked, large but delicate hands neatly at the edge of the bed. Zed's eyes slowly rolled over toward her, a smile stretching his jaw. She rarely saw his face, especially so directly.
"Gritta, your eyes. . . After all of that, you're still shining. Even in the dark." He spoke, voice soft.
Gritta blinked, confused by the comment. The Emperor was still looking at her eyes after all of this? It seemed strange that he would speak after so long for such a simple compliment.
"Are you still my wife, Gritta?"
That was definitely a surprising question. Gritta had taken the title for the sake of helping Zed, but to tell Zed yes. . that had it's own implication. She stayed quiet.
"That you're still here must mean that you at least told the shadows that you are. Is that correct?"
"Yes."
Gritta nodded as she spoke, pulling her hands to her stomach. Zed reached out to grab one of then regardless, his hand small in her's, but strong. Gritta swallowed, a sense of fear setting in. She had seen Zed do some awful things despite her instinctive affection for him.
"In time. . . I would love to properly have you as my wife, Gritta."
The gentle tone Zed's voice took on struck a nerve in Gritta's heart. He sounded so much more genuine than he had before when he talked about wanting her, wanting the shine in her eyes.
"I-in time?" She questioned, the confusion obvious.
"I know you do not love me, Gritta. I want you to be my wife. . . and I want you to love me. So please, Gritta. . . stay by my side so I can heal. And then we will discuss our engagement."
Gritta felt a ping in her heart. Despite what Zed said she felt something like love deep inside her heart, and it was growing.