Chapter Text
DREAMS AND NIGHTMARES
It was like a ritual for Magnus, one could say, to look at the stars in the dead of night. He didn't know for certain when it had begun or why. He realize it was a thing after a week of sacredly doing so. And he kept doing it because it was useless, frivolous, irrelevant and totally unnecessary. The kind of thing his father wouldn't have approved of. It was perfect and therefore sacred.
And he was in the middle of carrying out this sacred ritual when he heard someone approaching. The steps were light and quiet, stopping right beside him.
Princess Cleiona was wearing a light gown of a exquisite turquoise that matched her eyes perfectly and her long hair was loose, falling across her shoulders. She looked down at him for a few seconds as he completely ignored her. Then, she laid down next to him, mimicking his stance and looking at the stars.
"What do you want?", he asked before she could open her mouth.
"You wound me. I merely wanted to spend time with you", her answer was as quick as he had expected.
He moved his head to look at her. He didn't even need to arch an eyebrow questioningly, the stare alone was enough. She huffed. "When you said you dreamed about me—"
"I never said that."
"When you said you had nightmares about me—"
"That's better."
"—you were lying."
He looked at her again, brow furrowed. "Excuse me?"
"You do dream about me." A lock of pale golden hair had fallen over her eyes. He resisted the urge to brush it behind her ear.
"Don't be ridiculous, princess."
She blinked, pleased. "I heard you muttering about it this morning. You were annoyed because you had a dream about me. It was a pleasent one, it seemed, otherwise it wouldn't have bothered you so."
He opened his mouth, ready to lie, but found out he couldn't. He narrowed his eyes, instead. "I hate you".
She smiled widely and in such an adorable way he hated her a little bit more. "I hate you too", she whispered.
It was his turn to smile. Hate was such a curious thing, wasn't it? He grabbed her hand, entwining their fingers and looked back at the sky. Cleo inched closer, resting her head in his shoulder. "Why do you do this every night?", she asked so quietly he wondered for a second if it was his imagination. She squeezed his hand slightly, demanding an answer.
"Stars are such hateful things", he whispered back. "Now, stay quiet so I can sleep and dream of you."
She laughed and he joined her involuntarily. Morning seemed so far away. Tugging her closer, he kissed her forehead, completely relaxed.
He could let his guard down and enjoy this for a while. After all, this was just another dream.