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“How is your knee?” Glynda whispered, instinctively balancing her weight off of him. Her hand remained placed on his shoulder, her other cradled gently in his. Though her gaze was set on his chest, she could tell from his muted gait that he was uncomfortable.
“We can stop.”
“No.” He answered swiftly, “The movement helps.”
Glynda stepped just a bit closer as they danced. Their pace was slow and leisurely. Almost intimate and certainly drawing an eye or two. The warmth of his hand on her bare back made it so easy for the deputy headmistress to ignore the stares.
Piercing green eyes scanned the crowds of affluent attendees. For all the gossip, people tended to look away when she caught their gaze and held it. So many things were said about the headmaster, about her, but rarely to their faces. They were far too used to such nonsense to care.
“You look lovely tonight,” Ozpin spoke suddenly in her ear. “Did I mention?”
The barest hint of a smile broke on her face, “Several times.”
“I doubt it can be overstated.”
The huntress rolled her eyes and shot him the look. Though her cool expression softened when he winced. Glynda swallowed, trying to further slow the pace, but he led on. As was his way.
She relented and followed.
He had not even wanted to attend tonight. Glynda had known as soon as she’d seen him, looking out the window of his suite to the falling snow over the vast tundra. His blazer had been left on the bed with his tie. As if to delay the amount of time he would need to spend in it. She had known with a simple look that he lacked the energy to play the game tonight, and it was not just fatigue from traveling between Vale and Atlas. Though she doubted the cold was blameless.
She had almost suggested he stay and rest and leave the political mingling to her, but of course, he would have declined even if she had offered. He was particular about these things. It did not change the fact that he was in pain, and she hated it. Glynda being partially responsible only made it harder for her to ignore.
What she hated even more, was her inability to insist. That it has been she who retrieved the tie from the bed and looped it around Ozpin’s neck and fastened the double-Windsor knot over his throat. In silence, she had fixed it just so and smoothed his dress shirt. Daring to let her open palms linger before she summoned his jacket and draped it over his broad shoulders.
He smiled thankfully down at her then, but she could see how tired the man was. Even his eyes were dim. Glynda almost said something. Almost before, she dipped her head, pulled away, and let him lead her from the room. She followed.
They only left the floor once the orchestra broke for a short recess. Glynda kept her arm looped in his while he heavily favored Long Memory.
They were soon pulled into conversation with several officials and then more after that. Suffering through endless chatter about politics and various other small talk was an essential skill honed over many decades in a position of power. But Glynda would be first to admit that Ozpin was particularly adept. While her eventual boredom was poorly concealed, the headmaster was charismatic and charming. Always managing to direct the conversation where it suited him.
Only she may have noticed the way he ticked out of rhythm tonight. The slight slump in posture and a smile that failed to reach his eyes were so clear to her. More than once, he had to be prompted to answer a question or respond. As the night wore on, Glynda’s tolerance was spent. She suggested they retire from the conference several times, but Ozpin refused until he had spoken with everyone of note. Much to her chagrin.
The woman held her tongue until he was ready. Silently, frustrated, and in awe of his dedication. By the time he was convinced of his duty, the occasional wince had become a hiss between grit teeth. She stayed perched on his arm, head held high. Finally, they were in retreat. She let him go when they crossed the threshold of his room and watched as he limped over into a chair. He sat heavily, and she followed. Already preparing her words.
He may have been able to hide his exhaustion from the whole world, but he could not do so with her. Ozpin removed his glasses and rubbed his eyes, his gaze again directed out the window.
“I will wake up early tomorrow before the closing assembly and complete those reports you needed to co-sign. Then, we can review them over lunch and submit them tomorrow night once we are back in Vale.” He said, pinching the bridge of his nose.
Over her dead body.
“No,” Glynda answered tersely before she could stop herself. Ozpin’s gaze immediately turned to her.
“No?” he queried, and the woman flushed.
“You have been overworking yourself for weeks. You need rest.” Her words were quiet but troubling. Ozpin made a little humph and rolled his shoulders back.
“I can sleep on the jet back to Vale.”
“No one ever sleeps on the jet.” She refuted firmly.
Glynda Goodwitch had priorities, too, and first and foremost, her duty was to him. She released a long-held breath and crossed the room, and leaned over him. Deft hands reached between them and loosed the tie from around his neck. She tugged the blazer from his shoulders and hung it on a hanger.
“Sleep until the assembly. I will complete the reports.”
But Ozpin already seemed to be falling asleep, eyes closed, and his head held upon his knuckles. His deputy sighed. His other hand gripping the bad knee had not escaped her notice. In the silence, she was left to her thoughts in the near dark before he spoke once more.
“All right, Glynda.”
The huntress sighed in relief. When he stood, his eyes found hers, and she hoped the flicker of affection had not been her imagination.
Without thinking, she drew his hand to her mouth and brushed her lips against his knuckles, something she occasionally did to tell him she approved. “Thank you, Sir.”
She let him go and turned to leave, but his fingers curled and caught her wrist. In the dark, she could not make out his face.
“You will stay with me tonight?”
Her brow creased. They never slept in the same bed away from Beacon. The risk was too great.
But then she would be able to ensure he took his rest.
Silently, Glynda nodded and followed his lead.