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He couldn't sleep.
That wasn't super unusual. It seemed like it happened to him more often lately, but that didn't make it less frustrating. He stared at the ceiling, which looked the same as it looked every night he couldn't sleep. He started counting the bumps on the stones. He had them all memorized. It had only taken six or seven nights. Usually it worked to bore him to sleep.
Tonight it didn't. He counted them all. He counted them a second time. He counted them a third time. Sleep didn't want to find him tonight. He sat up and rubbed his eyes. He got up and walked over to the window. He looked out at the night sky, which was as starry as ever. There was a breeze, but it was summer so even at night it was a warm breeze. Colder than Georgia, but still warmer than he wanted. He missed the cold. He missed Nifl. He missed Jotunheim.
He stepped away from the window and turned back to the room. Water. Water would help. He opened the dresser they had given him and pulled out a shirt. He pulled it over his head and picked up his lamp off the night table. He fumbled around in the dark a bit for the flint but it was where it belonged. He missed electric lights. There was a lot he didn't miss, but electricity was one of them.
At least they had running water.
He lit the lamp and grabbed his cup. He gently pushed his door open and looked into the hallway. There wasn't anyone present that he could see. There wouldn't be at this time of night anyway. There might be some guards patrolling outside and some of the Heroes would probably be out and about, but not around here. None of the people with rooms near his were the type to be awake this late into the night.
He stepped into the hallway and started towards the kitchens. He made sure to be careful when he passed by Alfonse's room. Alfonse would be sleeping, but he was a much lighter sleeper than his sister. He was less careful passing Sharena's room, because he could tell from the snoring that she wouldn't be disturbed. Once he had passed their rooms he knew he was out of the area where he would be passing by anyone he could wake up. From here it was a hallway where the only rooms were storage space. The size of Askr castle always got to him. It was so much bigger than anywhere he'd ever been back home, even his old office. And these days it only felt larger. Now that he was...alone.
He plodded down the hallway towards the kitchens by the light of his lamp. He wasn't tired, but even so he nearly bumped into a suit of armor at one point because he was so lost in thought. Because he was so lost in his memories he didn't notice that there was a light coming from the kitchen. Not until he bumped into the person responsible for it.
"Oof! Wha...I'm sorry," he said as he gathered his thoughts and held up his lamp. "I didn't think there would be any...your Majesty!" He quickly stood up and composed himself when he realized what had happened. "Are you alright? Did I hurt you? I'm so sorry!"
"Oh please, it's fine. I was a little surprised, that's all. I didn't expect anyone to be awake so late," said the queen of Askr. There was a gentle smile on her face as she looked up at him. She was tall for a woman, but he was 6'5". She was still almost a head shorter than he was.
"No, no, I need to apologize," he said quickly. "I should have paid more attention to where I was going and even if it was an accident I still could have hurt you and it's really not appropriate for me to have done something like that to you." She actually giggled. It reminded him of Sharena's giggle. This was the first time he'd ever been this close to her, especially alone. She resembled her daughter quite a bit.
"I think you need to relax, Summoner," she said. "It was an accident, and you could hardly be expected to know I would be here at this hour! Please, don't worry about it." She held up a small apple tart to him. "Would you like one?" He looked back and forth between the tart and her face a few times before he sheepishly took it from her and ate it.
"Th-thank you," he said. "That's...very kind of you." He felt himself stiffen as though his body was trying to force him into better posture. It was hard to have good posture when you were so tall and had to look down at most people, especially when you were fighting the urge to drop to one knee.
"I was about to make some tea," she said. "I'd be happy to make you some as well."
"Oh, you don't have to do that," he said. "I was only here for some...what I mean is that I couldn't sleep and I thought I would get some water." Her smile faded slightly and he thought he saw some sadness in her eyes.
"Ah, you too? Then I think I have to insist you sit and have some tea with me."
"Your Majesty-"
"Please, Summoner, call me Henriette. I've never felt the need for ceremony, especially not with someone who has done so much for my dear children."
"Ah, alright then, Henriette. Let me help you with the tea." She turned and picked up a kettle then held it out to him.
"Get some water while I get the tea, would you please?" He nodded and put his cup down on a table so he could take the kettle. He placed his lamp next to it since the two lights the two of them had brought made the room bright enough to work. He walked over to pantry where the jugs of purified water were stored and poured some into the kettle. As he brought it back to the nearest stove she returned with the tea leaves. He started a fire and put the kettle on as she started bundling the tea into bags. She placed one in each cup and put them on the table, then sat down on a stool and invited him to sit across from her. He did so.
"I actually only came in here for water," he said. "I...can't get to sleep lately." He started fiddling with the handle of his mug and didn't look her in the eye.
"It's the same for me," she said. "Sleep doesn't come easily to me anymore." He looked up and saw that her expression was dark. It took his brain a moment to kick into gear.
"Oh, that's...I'm sorry. I...I forgot that you...Henriette…" She met his gaze and smiled sadly.
"Don't be silly," she said. "We all have our own troubles. Whatever is bothering you is important too." He tapped the side of the mug idly with one finger.
"With respect, I'm not your child. Don't think you need to hide your pain on my account." She actually laughed lightly.
"That's a fair point, Summoner. Perhaps my motherly instincts get the better of me sometimes."
"Please, if you're going to insist on names I should as well. You can call me Ryan."
"Oh! You know, I'm not sure I ever knew your name. Thank you, Ryan. I appreciate that you haven't insisted on formality. There are times I feel as though everyone around here treats me as as symbol when sometimes all I want…" she fell silent and he heard the sound of water starting to bubble. He got up and took a towel to remove the kettle from the heat. He poured a cup for Henriette, then himself, then returned the kettle to the stove and extinguished the fire. He sat back down.
"It must be difficult, but I can understand them at least," he said. "You're the queen. No one wants to make a misstep and get in trouble for it." He reflected internally that it was probably best that he hadn't grown up in a country with royalty, which probably made this conversation easier. It also probably helped that he was tired enough for his internal filter to be gone, or else he would probably have taken longer to stop using her title. It also helped further that he didn't think she was all that much older than he was, although he couldn't be sure. Even after what he figured was a few years the way time was measured in Askr still threw him off. Either way, she certainly looked young.
"I am, but I would never punish my subjects for acting too familiar. I wish they would be! I get so...Ryan, would you tell me what's keeping you awake?" She sipped her tea as he shifted mental gears to answer her question.
"Oh, um...sure," he said, "but I should warn you that it's not a...happy story."
"I imagine not, or you would be sleeping soundly right now." He found himself laughing.
"That's a fair point." He sipped his tea. "It starts...well, it starts back in my world. Have your children told you anything about my world?" He knew he hadn't. His contact with the queen had been limited so far. She shook her head.
"Small amounts, but I still have very little idea what it was like there. They told me that you have buildings that touch the sky and that you travel in carriages that don't need horses." He nodded and sipped his tea again.
"Those are both true," he said. "Well, sort of. The buildings don't actually touch the sky, but they are much, much taller than anything you have here. The castle is large, certainly, but I've seen and been in buildings that would make it look like a small shack. And the carriages...well, that's part of the story. They're useful things. They can help us get from place to place extremely quickly. In fact, from what I remember, my country is around twice the size of Askr, and you can cross it in only a few days in one of those carriages." He shifted uncomfortably in his seat. He was delaying.
"Truly? That is amazing. The last time I rode across all of Askr it took me nearly a full month on horseback." She took a sugar cube from the bowl and added it to her tea. It was her fourth.
"Yeah," he said. "We also have machines that can fly us through the air like a pegasus or a wyvern. It can take us the same distance in only a few hours." Her eyes went wide.
"That sounds frightening!" He saw her grip tighten slightly on her mug and he heard the sound of her sandals hit the stone floor as if to remind her that it was still beneath her feet. He felt himself involuntarily look her up and down. She was wearing a fairly simple robe that wasn't far off from the one he wore when he was out and about, although the material looked finer, more like silk or chiffon than his own wool robe. An intrusive thought sprung into his mind.
I wonder what she's wearing underneath it.
He shook it away. It was the fatigue talking.
"It certainly can be," he said. "I never liked it much myself, but there are people who use them all the time to travel all over the world."
"But do they fail? I've seen what happens when someone falls off a pegasus." She shuddered. He fought the urge to reach out and comfort her.
"Very, very rarely," he said. "There are thousand or tens of thousands of them used every day, and I think only about twenty of them fail every year. They're very safe."
"Even so, I don't know if I could ever do that," she said. "I couldn't even ride a pegasus as a girl, I would get so frightened." She blushed pink and looked down at her cup. "Oh my. I'm sorry, what a terribly embarrassing way for me to act. And here I'm supposed to be the queen."
"Was that...did you just tell a joke, Queen Henriette?" She looked back up at him and smiled, though her face was still bright pink.
"Is that so strange? Is the queen not allowed to joke?"
"Of course you are," he said. "I just thought it was…" his voice trailed off before he could finish.
"You thought it was what, dear Summoner?" He looked to the side and studied the tea kettle. He mumbled out the last word. "I can't hear you," she said.
"..ute." He heard her weight shift and looked to see that she had leaned in and had cupped a hand over one ear and had a grin on her face.
"Cute," he forced out. "I thought it was cute." He could feel his face burn. He must have been more tired than he realized to let something like that slip. She started to laugh. It was loud, probably louder than she intended, but not mocking. It made him start laughing along with her. It was late. Things were funnier than they should have been. Henriette laughed so hard that she nearly fell back off her stool. He reached out and caught her arm before she could.
"Oh you're very sweet, Ryan," she said once her laughter had subsided. "Especially to an old woman like me." He shook his head and grunted.
"You're not old," he said. "You're probably not even much older than me."
"And how old are you?"
"In terms of my world I'm thirty-one. I don't know exactly how old that makes me here." Her eyes widened slightly.
"Really? I'm only thirty-six of our years." She turned pink again and looked down. He supposed that maybe the old saw about asking a woman her age applied even here. Or maybe she was embarrassed at sharing it. Or maybe she did think of that as old. Maybe Askrans worked on anime logic of what made someone "old."
"But you have two grown children," he said before he could think about it. "You must have been young when you had Alfonse." She turned away and he felt his stomach drop. "Henriette, I'm...I'm sorry." She looked back and patted his hand, then sipped some more of her tea.
"Don't be," she said. "You didn't mean anything by it. You were right, anyway, I was young. And besides, I've had...time." He put a hand on hers in return.
"Time is never enough on it's own," he said. He couldn't keep the tinge of bitterness out of his voice.
"You sound as though that's from personal experience," she said. He looked down at the table and remembered that he had been about to tell her the story. He nodded.
"It is." He raised his head back up and looked her in the eye. He thought he saw tears forming. "I'll tell you what: I'll tell you my story if you tell me yours." She hesitated before answering.
"Let me make us some more tea," she said. He nodded and pulled back his hand. She stood up and started to prepare another pot of tea.
"The carriages," he said while she was working. He didn't look at her. Instead he started into his mug. "We call them cars. They're extremely useful. Get you where you're going fast. But, well, have you ever seen what happens when a horse cart has an accident?"
"No," she said without turning around, "but I've heard." He could tell that she already knew where the story was leading.
"Well, for these it's even worse because of how much faster they travel." He drank the last of his tea and waited for her to finish. She poured him some more a few minutes later. She sat across from him and met his gaze. Her expression was sad.
"Please, Ryan you don't have to continue."
"Yes I do," he said. "I have to start from the beginning." He drank some more tea and wished it was bourbon. That was another one of the things he missed. "...There was a girl. Her name was Danielle. We were young. Stupid. Silly. Very, very in love. I told her I was going to marry her after we finished university and I could support us." His voice cracked. He took a sip of tea and she placed a hand back on his when he put his cup down.
"Take your time," she said. He nodded and was silent while he regained his resolve.
"You're very kind, you know," he said. He tried to smile. This was something no one in Askr knew, and here he was telling the queen in their first real conversation. He needed to stop thinking of her as the queen. She wasn't "the queen," she was Henriette, a beautiful woman he was commiserating with.
"Perhaps it's because I have so few opportunities these days. I hope I'm not smothering you." he shook his head and held her hand between both of his.
"No, you're not. But I owe you a story. Danielle and I, we finished university at the same time. In my world many people will attend their studies far from home. She was one of those people. When we finished we both left the university to return to our homes with the promise that we would meet up again the next week. We weren't more than half a day from one another, it was easy for us to meet. I got home in an hour and—oh, I should explain. We also have ways of communicating from long distance with each other in my world. We can send one another messages instantly." He shuddered as he remembered his increasingly desperate texts. It had started with an innocent how's your trip?
"Gods, Ryan…" He closed his eyes and forced himself to continue.
"She...never made it home. Her father was the one driving the car. It was raining that day. Someone driving in the other direction lost control because of the rain and…" his voice broke and he screwed his eyes shut even tighter. They started to ache. He remembered all the other messages. The texts on the anniversary. The texts on her birthday. The day he'd gotten a response from the new owner of the number and had stopped sending more. Henriette pulled her hand out from between his and he heard her stool move, then footsteps. Next he felt a warmth against his right shoulder and he felt his head pulled to the right as she embraced him. After a moment she actually started to stroke his hair, which made him open his eyes and look up at her. She froze, blushed tomato red, and stepped back.
"Oh my, I'm...I'm sorry, Ryan, I saw you look so upset and I...couldn't help myself." He stood and faced her, then took her hand in one his and patted it with the other.
"Don't be," he said. His throat was tight so he took a moment to swallow. "I...I think I needed that. I know that I said that I came here for a cup of water, but I'm glad I ran into someone, and..pardon me for being so forward, but I'm especially glad it was you." Her face got even redder.
His brain finally caught up with his mouth and he felt himself turn just as red. Was he...flirting? With the queen? With Alfonse and Sharena's mother? At a time like this? After that story? Was he that exhausted or was he completely insane?
She started to sputter a little, but she didn't move to pull her hand away. She did look away from him, apparently to regain her composure. When she did answer it was in a small voice.
"Would you follow me?"
"Should—" his voice caught in his throat. He grabbed his teacup and drank a sip. "Should I bring the tea?"
"Please do." He nodded and let go of her hand and topped off the tea cups before taking one in each hand. Henriette extinguished the candles, took both of their lanterns and walked over to the opposite door from the one he had used to enter the room.
"Stay close behind me," she said. "The castle can be hard to navigate at night." He grunted in affirmation and she turned and led him out of the kitchens. They walked down a small hallway that led to a door which led to a much larger hallway. She turned left, then right, then left again as they navigated the corridors. It wasn't hard for him to keep up. She wasn't walking quickly.
After several minutes they reached a door which was standing open. He looked inside and through the light cast by the lanterns and candles in the room that there was an enormous and ornate bed. It took him a moment of appreciating the sheer size to realize that it was the kind of bed that had probably led to the term "king-sized." It was also, he realized after another moment, a bed meant for two. A bed that Henriette had spent nearly three years sleeping in alone.
She hesitated at the doorway to the bedroom, then walked past it to the next door, which she pushed open and entered. He followed a step behind her and saw that she had led them to what looked like a private study. There were bookshelves along the walls and several desks with parchment, quills, and inkwells. There was a table in the center of the room which was surrounded by two chairs and a large couch which reminded him of old colonial-era couches he'd seen on tours of historic sites in Savannah and Jamestown.
Henriette placed one lantern on the table then walked around the room lighting several candles on the desks and one wall sconce. Once she'd lit the room to her apparent satisfaction she placed the other lantern on the desk and sat on the couch.
"Please, sit," she said. He stepped over to one of the chairs and she shook her head. "Here. Next to me." He did a small double take, then nodded. Was it not just in his head? Was, god, was there something developing between them?
He sat down and handed her the mug that was pretty sure was hers. She took it and gripped it in both hands, blew on it once, and took a drink. She shuddered a little. Or maybe she shivered. It was the dead of night, after all, although he wasn't cold. He wished he was cold.
"I wanted...I hoped we could sit and talk somewhere more comfortable than the kitchen," she said without looking up from her mug. "This is ou—my private study. No one is usually permitted in here. But you, well, as I said, I wanted us to go somewhere more comfortable." It certainly was a more comfortable seat than the kitchen stool had been.
"This must be awkward for you," he said. It was understatement. It was likely this was outright painful for her. "I don't need to stay if you would rather not let someone in here." She shook her head.
"No, please, you can stay. Forgive me, Ryan, it's simply that it's been so long since, well, since I've had a conversation like this one. Even my children hardly confide in me anymore. And since Gustav…" her voice trailed off.
"Would it help you if I continued my story?" he asked. It likely wouldn't, since the story didn't get any happier, but it would at least put her mind on something else.
"Oh, please do," she said. "Although I must confess I didn't realize there was more to it." He smiled sardonically.
"Indeed," he said without fully hiding the bitterness in his voice, "it gets worse from there." She looked up at him in surprise but didn't say anything. "I spent years thinking I would never love again. It took, well, it took being brought here to let me move on. Seeing what everyone was going through here made my problems seem so...small. And I started healing. Started connecting with people again. Your daughter helped a lot. Even when Alfonse warned her against making friends with me she wouldn't let me be alone in a strange new place. She...your daughter is a wonderful young woman."
"I know, I'm so proud of how they've both grown up. Sharena is such a dear. I can hardly believe myself how well she gets along with everyone." She beamed. It made her look twenty years younger. It made his stomach do a flip.
"You're not wrong," he said. "I don't think I could do my job half as effectively if she wasn't so good at befriending all the heroes who show up here. I owe her more than I can repay. I don't have any siblings, but Sharena is exactly the kind of little sister I would want if I did." Henriette laughed. It wasn't the same giggle as earlier, it was more mature and heartfelt. It warmed his heart.
"Oh, you have no idea how happy I am to hear that. To know that I raised my children properly. It's good to know that I was at least able to accomplish something in life." He blinked in shock at her words.
"Of course you did," he said. "They're both amazing people. But what do you mean? I've only ever heard good things about you as a queen before. Do you think you haven't been?" Her smile faded as quickly as it had appeared.
"Have I been? None of my subjects ever speak to me without tripping over themselves. I've never had to pass judgment in my entire reign, yet all the citizens I speak to act like I'm somehow unapproachable. Do I seem that way to you? Is there something about me?" He put his mug down on the table, then took her mug and placed it next to his. She didn't resist. Once both of the mugs were out of the way he slid a few inches closer to her and pulled her into a hug.
"You should know that I'm not always that good at reading the mood," he said. "So I admit that I should have noticed the signs before now. But I got there eventually. No, Henriette, I don't think you're intimidating or unapproachable or anything like that. I think your citizens might be nervous because you're the queen, but I think they're missing out on getting to know one of the most caring people I've ever met. Heck, this is our first conversation and you've been tripping over yourself to help me in every way you can even though there's so much on your mind. And I don't know if I'm being too familiar with you or not right now, but I think you deserve this. And it seemed an awful lot like you needed it, too." He felt her hands on his back and he heard what sounded like a sniffle. She didn't say anything, so he didn't say anything else either. He sat there in silence and let her get her apparently much-needed fill of human contact.
He realized that he needed it too. He couldn't even remember the last time he'd gotten a hug. It would've had to have been sometime when...god, it had to have been when Sharena hugged him after they'd woken up in Alfheim. That was what, over a year earlier? The realization made him hold her a little tighter, which caused her to lean into him. He sat with her in silence for a while. He couldn't really tell how long it was. He didn't care. He needed this. They needed this. The reassuring warmth of human contact was something everyone needed.
"Are you a father, Ryan?" she said. She sounded like she was suppressing tears.
"No, I haven't had the chance yet," he said. He hadn't wanted to love again after Danielle. And then he had, which he was still putting off telling her about.
"You'll be a good one someday," she said.
"I...that's sweet of you to say," he said, then took a deep breath and continued, "but I don't think that's going to happen." She pulled back from the hug and looked up at him.
"You say that with such conviction. Why?" He dropped his hands back to his sides and looked away from her. This was something else he hadn't told anyone, up to and including the siblings of the woman involved.
"Because I think...honestly I think I'm cursed." He hadn't believed in curses back home, but then he hadn't believed in parallel worlds where he could use a gun to summon people, either. Life was weird.
"Ryan, it's not as though you're the only person to lose someone."
"I...no, you're right, I know," he said. He felt a pang of guilt, but plodded forward anyway. "bur it's...it's not only one woman." He chanced a look over at her and saw that her mouth was in an almost perfect O shape, which he probably would have found comical if this wasn't such a painful topic. She didn't say anything, which meant he had to keep going. "About a year after I got here I started having...dreams. It was right after we went to help Nifl. In my dreams there was another woman. At first she was desperate, like she was in trouble, but as we made progress in the war she became more relaxed. Eventually...eventually I learned how to talk back to her in my dreams. Her name was Gunnthra."
"Gunnthra? That name sounds familiar...oh...oh my goodness, Ryan…" She put a hand on his arm. He nodded and sniffed, then picked up his mug and drank some more.
"She told me she was a princess of Nifl. That she had used a ritual to speak to me. That she needed my help. The first night was only that, but then she returned the next night. And the night after. We would speak every night. It...honestly made me look forward to going to sleep. Once she was in a safe place and she wasn't only worried about the war we would still meet every night and discuss everything. Our families, our lives, our hobbies...our future. It was...easily the most intimate experience of my life."
"I can only imagine," she said. "To be able to share your soul in such a way must have been...incredible." He nodded.
"I can't describe it. I don't know if anyone will ever know what that's like. It was like...it was like she was part of me. As much a part of me as my own mind."
"My children never mentioned any of this," she said. "I'm so...so very sorry." He shook his head and started into the dregs in his mug.
"They wouldn't have. I never told them. It...didn't seem right. Not until she and I had met properly." She leaned in to hug him and put her cheek against his shoulder.
"Please, I know what comes next. You don't need to continue." He nodded and closed his eyes.
"There's...there's still a third," he said through clenched teeth. He felt her let go of him and looked over to see that she had sat bolt upright and the color had drained from her face. She was covering her mouth with one hand.
"Wh-what do you mean?" she said.
"Another one. Last year. We weren't as close, but I thought I could...finally let myself connect to someone again. And she was...kind. Sweet. Strong. I knew that she...felt for me. Her name was Nott. Princess of Jotunheim." He stopped. He couldn't continue.
She stood from the couch and patted his shoulder. He looked up and she smiled weakly down at him, then she turned and left the room. He felt despair start to overtake him but some tiny rational part of his brain told him that she was almost certainly coming back. She hadn't left him after the first two, she wasn't going to leave after the third. He put his mug down and twiddled his thumbs. She was coming back.
He couldn't believe he was actually doing this. This night had started with a trip to the kitchen for water and now he was pouring his heart out to the queen of Askr in her private study, and he was reasonably confident they were sharing a mutual connection, if not an outright mutual attraction. Was he crazy? Could he really allow himself to feel this again? And if he could, was the queen, a woman with adult children, really the right person?
She returned a minute later carrying something in her hands. It looked like some kind of folded up robe or blanket. She walked over to him and began to unfold it. It was a well-worn, clearly much-loved blanket which she took and put over one shoulder, then sat back down. She threw the other end over his shoulder and he manually adjusted it so that it was covering him properly. Once he'd done so she pulled the corner on her shoulder in and shifted in close enough to him that their shoulders touched. She hesitated for a moment, slipped her left arm under his right arm, then rested her head against his shoulder.
"Forgive me for being so forward," she said.
"N-no, don't apologize," he said.
"This blanket was...a...a betrothal gift from Gustav's father. Whenever Gustav or I were having troubles we used to sit together under it and talk about them, or we would simply sit in silence and enjoy each other's company. We used to use it all the time when we were children and would still continue to use it even after Gustav became king. The last time we did he told me that he was ill. He said he had...very little time letft." Her voice was shaky and he heard her holding back sobs. "It was the night before he…" He rested his head against hers.
"He was a good man," he said. "I didn't know him long, but I could tell how much he loved you and your children."
"I'm sorry," she said, "I shouldn't be telling you this when you've got so many worries of your own."
"Henriette?"
"Yes?"
"Stop apologizing."
"What?"
"You keep apologizing to me for having feelings. Stop it. Yes, I'm thinking of sad memories, but yours are just as important as mine, so please stop apologizing to me and let yourself be upset." Whatever it was that was driving him at this late hour when his brain was barely working told him that he needed to protect this woman. He needed to make her safe and happy and realized that she was valuable and important and beautiful. Maybe it was him being desperate for human connection, maybe it was the spark of love returning to him, hell, maybe it was just because he was so tired.
"Ryan, I...I can't...I haven't been able to...gods…" she began to cry into his shoulder.
"Have you had anyone to lean on since you lost him? In all this time?"
"N-no," she said between sobs. He shifted his weight to get closer to her and pulled the blanket tighter around the two of them.
"Well now you do. So lean on me all you need to. Cry as much as you like. Cry yourself to sleep if you want to. I can find my way back to my room if it comes to that."
"No," she said weakly. "D-don't go."
"Even if you do fall asleep?"
"Yes." He grunted in affirmation, but didn't say anything. She started to sob quietly. He could feel her shaking, so he pulled back his arm and hugged her gently. Years' worth of bottled up pain were released as she sat there crying against him. He felt his chest tighten. How many times had they spoken? Maybe four times, total? He was as good as a stranger to her and yet here they were, in the wee hours of the morning, sharing their deepest hurts.
But maybe that was why. Maybe it was easier to talk to a relative stranger. Someone who didn't have any preconceptions about you. Someone who could see you as you were and accept you for it, because they didn't know any different. That could have been why it was so easy.
Because to him she wasn't the distant High Queen of Askr, she was Henriette, Alfonse and Sharena's mom. And to her he wasn't the workaholic, slightly awkward, terminally busy Summoner who refused to talk about home lest he get too homesick for his favorite barbecue place or the beaches on Jekyll Island, he was Ryan, Guy She Knew Her Kids Liked. And then they realized they had one of the worst possible things in common, and so here they were, hugging each other under her betrothal blanket she'd had since she was a kid. The realization almost—almost—made him laugh. This was her security blanket, like the one he'd had until he was ten, even if this one had a much sadder story.
He held her a bit closer without being any more forceful about it. Her crying started to quiet, but he could tell it was still happening, because she was still shaking.
"You deserve this, you know," he said just loud enough for her to hear him. "You deserve to have someone to rely on just as much as everyone else relies on you. You deserve a chance to be comforted, and don't ever think you need to be sorry for feeling like it." She didn't answer him, but that wasn't surprising. He'd cried before. He knew how hard it got to talk once you got choked up. Instead she held on to him. He didn't know how long she kept it up, but he kept holding her until he felt the shaking stop and beyond.
Her breathing slowed. He shook her gently. She murmured but didn't say anything he could hear. He whispered her name. She didn't respond to it. She was asleep. Experimentally he tried letting go of her to stand up. She slumped forward and ended up flat on the couch. He considered leaving to return to his room, but it wouldn't do to leave her in the study. Instead he stepped out into the hallway and went into the bedroom adjacent to the study.
She had left a candle burning in the sconce on the wall which revealed a large and cozy-looking bedroom that nonetheless betrayed exactly what was hiding behind the queen's calm exterior. The room looked like it was only rarely cleaned. There were books sitting on every surface and there was a dresser that was almost completely covered in dust. He presumed it was the dresser that contained Gustav's clothing and he also presumed it was like that because she had never been able to bring herself to dispose of any of it. He understood, he had gifts from Danielle he had never parted with, and he still had keepsakes from both Gunnthra and Nott.
The bed turned out to be as enormous as it had looked at first glance. It was probably one and a half times the size of a normal king size bed and the sheets were fine silk in the same white and gold as everything else with Askr's symbology on it. Half of the bed bore the signs of use and half was clearly well-maintained and waiting for its owner to return. He wondered briefly if she ever smelled that side of the sheets to see if any of Gustav still remained on it. He'd never done that with anything of Danielle's, but Nott had made him a scarf that he swore still had the scent of her perfume on it.
With the room scoped out he returned to the study while making sure to leave both doors open. When he reached the sleeping Henriette he took a deep breath, knelt down, and gently turned her on her back. She didn't wake, for which he was grateful. Once she was on her back he put one arm under her knees and one arm under her back, took another breath, braced himself, and stood up.
Henriette wasn't especially heavy, but she was still nearly six feet tall which meant she was decidedly not easy to carry. He breathed a silent thanks to whomever was listening that he'd spent so much time in training in the last few years or he'd never have been able to do what he was doing.
Slowly, carefully, he turned around and began walking towards the door. Henriette murmured again and wrapped her arms around his neck.
"Mmm...Gustav...don't…" she said. He wished he could hug her. He at least hoped that her dream was a good one.
It took him a few minutes, but he reached the door and stepped into the hallway. He carefully stepped around the door and into the bedroom. He was glad it was a short walk, because he wasn't sure he would be able to make it any further than the bed. Relatively light or not, she was still dead weight and he was still operating on not nearly enough sleep. He staggered once on the way to the bed, stepped around to the right side, staggered once more, then managed to get as far as her side of the bed where he knelt down and gently placed her on the already-disturbed portion of the sheets.
"Gustav...gentle…" she murmured. Whatever she was dreaming about it seemed like it was more pleasant than her night had been. He felt a pang of jealousy, even though he knew it was irrational. She couldn't help her dreams and he couldn't help his. He stood and turned to leave, but felt a weak tug at the hem of his shirt. "No…"
"You need to sleep," he whispered down to her.
"Don't…" she shifted positions onto her back which meant that she pulled slightly harder on his shirt. It also meant that her robe didn't quite shift fully with her which made it cling to her and show off her figure. He felt a pang of shame replace the jealousy as he caught himself staring down at her. His inner voice came back before he could stop it.
And she's a mother of two? Damn.
He didn't even bother to beat it back. He didn't have the energy left. There was no reason to deny his attraction anyway when he was reasonably confident it was mutual. He took her hand and pulled it away from his shirt.
"Please...don't…" He leaned down close to her face.
"I'm only going for a moment," he whispered. She murmured something wordless and he leaned over and grabbed the blanket to pull over her. She made a sort of half-moaning-half-sighing sound when he did, but still didn't seem like she was waking up. Once she was covered he stood up, walked back to the study, grabbed the blanket, and snuffed out all the candles. The room was bathed in sudden darkness, but he had made sure to memorize where the table was so he didn't smack his shins against it on the way out of the room.
He left the study, closed the door behind him, then stood in the doorway of the bedroom and hesitated for a minute. She had asked him not to leave. He wanted to listen to her, but at the same time he was worried that she might regret it in the morning if she woke up and found him next to her in her husband's spot on the bed. He considered sitting in one of the chairs in the room, but that wouldn't allow for any kind of comfort, which he needed if he was going to sleep properly.
He turned to leave. He took a step away from the door. He took a second step away from the door.
He turned around and went back into the bedroom and pulled the door shut behind him.
It was time to stop hesitating and stop beating around the bush. He liked her. He was pretty sure she liked him. There was no guarantee either of them would avoid pain again, but he needed to get back on the horse.
He put out all but one candle, the one nearest the bed.
Sharena would faint.
He kicked off his shoes.
Alfonse would have no idea how to react.
He pulled back the untouched side of the blanket and got into the bed.
Anna would sputter in disbelief.
He slid closer to her and put his hand in hers. She murmured again, and it sounded happy.
Fjorm would have a heart attack.
He pulled the covers over himself and put out the last candle.
"Sleep well, Henriette," he whispered.
He closed his eyes and sleep finally took him.
The sun woke him up, as it usually did. It was brighter than usual. It took him a minute to remember why that was. He forced his eyes open and looked around. The bed was empty. He heard the sounds of movement and groggily sat upright. Henriette was dressed in a simple white nightgown and was busying herself dusting off several of the surfaces in the room. He heard her muttering to herself. He swallowed to wet his throat a bit.
"G-good morning," he said roughly. She about jumped out of her skin and made a little "eep!" sound that he thought was girlish and adorable.
"Oh my! Good morning," she said. She looked over at him and he could see that her face was beet red, a term that made no sense to him on reflection since beets were usually purple. "You...I notice you didn't leave."
"You asked me not to," he said.
"Yes, but I said so many embarrassing things last night and I thought that when I started crying I would have driven you away and my goodness I'm sorry that I'm so flustered this morning but I've never had a man in here besides my husband and now after everything I said and thought about you I'm feeling all over the place and I'm sorry."
"C'mere," he said and waved her over. She nervously put down the cloth she was using to dust and joined him at the side of the bed. He took her hand and looked at her. "What did I tell you about apologizing?" She looked to one side, then seemed to gather herself and looked back at him.
"Right. Of course. It's simply that...no, no, you're right." She smiled. "I...appreciate that you stayed. I'm so embarrassed by what I showed you last night, but you still didn't...you're a good man." He swung his legs off the bed and stood up over her.
"Like I said, you deserve it." He swallowed and cast around to find his courage. He found it. It was somewhere is his midsection near his gallbladder. "Listen, I'm going to be very forward with you, but I need to say this." He looked her directly in the eyes. They were the same sparkling green as her daughter's. "Henriette...I...I think you're a beautiful and wonderful woman. And I think that you deserve to be happy. And I'd like to...I'd like to try to be the man to make you happy." She blushed a deep red.
"Oh my, you'd say that to an old woman like me?" There was a small grin on her face, but he didn't notice it right away.
"That's...but you're not…" He clammed up. She laughed that same gentle laugh from the night before.
"That wasn't fair of me. You made a serious statement and you deserve a serious answer." She slipped her hand out of his grip and his heart sank for a moment, but then she hugged him around the waist. "My children speak very highly of you, and after last night I can understand why. Perhaps we're rushing into this, and perhaps this is simply because we've both suffered loss, but I think I would enjoy the opportunity to be with you. If you're sure about this then...yes." He hugged her back.
"I'm sure," he said.
"I should warn you, my knowledge of romance may be rather limited. I was betrothed when I was only a young girl. I may not remember how to act properly."
"Oh, that's fine," he said, "I'm not some expert myself. Besides, we're not kids, we should be able to figure it out together." She laughed against him. It was a wonderful feeling.
"Goodness, we may not be young, but you do make me feel quite girlish again. It's...wonderful. Even if we are moving more quickly than we should I truly hope that I can make you as happy as you've made me this morning." On a whim he lifted her a few inches off the ground which rewarded him with a gasp and a fit of giggles.
"I think you'll do just fine," he said. His stomach, apparently sick of their private moment, took the opportunity to rumble. Fortunately for him, the mood was good so his stomach rumbling only made the two of them start laughing. It made them stop hugging, but it was worth it for him as they sunk to the floor together which ended with them leaning back against the bed together until they had laughed themselves silly.
"My word, I don't remember the last time I laughed so hard," she said as she rested her head on his shoulder.
"It's a good feeling," he said. "I missed it."
"I have as well," she said. "I have so little cause to laugh these days, except when I'm with my child—oh! My children? We need to tell my children about this!" She stood up and offered him a delicate hand, which he took and got back on his feet. "I wonder how they'll react to this news." He put his arm around her shoulder and she put her arm around his waist.
"Let's find out."