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Even through the general gloom of the mess-tent, she spotted Gascon immediately. Sitting in his usual corner, a mug of ale in front of him. She almost expected to see Reynard coming back from the bartender with a drink to join him for a few parties of Gwent – only that this wouldn't happen anymore, and the mere thought felt like arrows burrowing into her guts.
She made her way to the table, sitting down opposite of Gascon. The movement made the man stir and look up, and Meve could see he had been expecting a certain someone else, no matter the smile on his lips as he noticed it was her. Meve knew she wasn't the only one missing her General and long-time friend.
“Oh, hey Meve”, Gascon said, “What brings me the joy of your company?”
“You seemed lonely”
“Did I?” he raised his brows, attempting to cover that she was right, and failing. Meve knew Gascon well enough by now to figure out when his mischievous grin was a farce. Especially now she often found him feigning his good mood, just as much as she did. They were tired and weary and ready for the fighting to end. Especially after what had happened to Reynard.
“How about you get yourself a new ale and we play cards, hm?”, she suggested on a whim, stealing his mug from right under his nose and taking a long sip. He laughed at that, an honest, surprised laugh. It warmed her heart to notice that.
“Just because it's you”, he replied with a grin and got up for a new ale. Meve looked after him, glad her spontaneous idea had pulled him out of his brooding for now. They both could use the distraction of a good game and a drink among friends, she thought.
***
“Maybe we should call it a night as well”, Meve said, looking around the mess-tent. Gascon followed her gaze, noticing that most of the soldiers had retreated for the night. Only a few were still around, chatting with the bartender or each other. There was something calm about it, everyone seemed a lot more at ease, this close to the end of the war. Victory was theirs, and they knew it.
“Sounds fine to me”, Gascon replied and got up, stretching himself before offering Meve his arm. “Care for a little walk? You look like you're not quite ready to go to bed yet”
Meve looked at him for a few seconds, then nodded with a small laugh. “Sure”
Gascon gave her one of his broad grins and left the tent with her at his side. The cool night air was almost a shock, but also a relief after the stale air inside the mess-tent. He looked at Meve for some time, wondering what was going on in her head – she had masterfully hidden her true emotions after what had happened, stayed strong and unwavering in front of her soldiers. But he could tell there was a lot going on beneath the surface, and she'd have to let it out eventually.
They walked aimlessly through the camp for a while, both lost in their own thoughts, until Gascon spotted a fallen log in a somewhat remote corner. Looking at Meve, he knew she had the same idea.
“What's on your mind?”, Gascon wondered when they sat down on the log, gazes wandering over the silent camp.
“Is it that obvious that I've been thinking?”
“No. At least not for those that don't know you”
She sighed deeply, silent for a few more moments and not meeting his eyes when she spoke.
“... I feel like I could've prevented this. That he didn't have to die. That it's my fault“, Meve eventually said, fists clenched in her lap, struggling with the tears that were coming to her eyes. Tears of anger, frustration, grief. Gascon had an idea of how she must feel, for he felt the same. “Maybe you would've had better chances, working more silently, undetected”
“Meve”
“It would've made a difference, wouldn't it? If we arrived earlier”
“Meve”
“Or if the medics had been faster-”
“Meve. We don't know that. Chances are, had I gone, I would be the one you'd have to bury. Reynard was a soldier through and through. And he died valiantly, for the country he loved. For the woman he loved”, Gascon didn't even have to speak any louder than usual for her to fall silent, an inaudible sob shaking her frame at what he said. It broke his heart to see her like this – this strong woman, the queen who never gave up and fought the battles most others would've deemed pure suicide, and won all of them.
And yet here she sat, allowing her emotions to finally show. A moment of vulnerability after all the madness, shared with him. It would be good for her, he hoped. Letting things fester for too long hadn't done anyone any good ever.
Gascon extended an arm to gently pull her to him and Meve accepted the embrace without a second of hesitation. It felt good to have her by his side, to feel another human's warmth right next to him. He was certain she felt the same, judging by how she leaned onto his shoulder.
“He meant a lot to you, I know that. But let it rest. He wouldn't want to see you tormenting yourself with guilt like this”
“Says the one who has been drinking his brains out almost every night since Riva Castle. He meant just as much to you”, Meve replied. Gascon shrugged slightly. She was right, and they both knew it. No use to denying it.
“Can't argue with that”, he sighed deeply, “Guess we both have to try and look forward”
“I suppose we do”, she mumbled, shifting her position just a bit to sit more comfortably, yet not moving away from Gascon. He placed a light kiss on her hair, holding her close.
“Everything will be fine again”
Meve hummed in agreement and reached out for him, taking his hand into hers – her way of returning the embrace, the need to simply hold someone right now. To know they were not alone.
“Gascon”, she whispered silently, almost inaudible even to his ears, “Promise you won't leave. Please”
He felt a lump in his throat at those words. The utter fear of loss lingering in each and every one of them made him choke for a moment, and even though he tried, he wasn't entirely able to keep his own voice from quavering just a bit.
“I won't leave you, Meve”, he replied, pulling her close and squeezing her hand lightly, “I won't”