Work Text:
The dark halls of the manor felt almost haunted in the dead of night, the wind howling as rain beat against the tall windows, sending a shiver up Pereshati’s spine as she stumbled down the way to the Duke’s office. He had failed to return to their chambers that night.
While the behaviour was not uncommon of him, she couldn’t help the worry that twisted in her gut as she pictured the beads of sweat which coated his face when he excused himself to his office. It seemed that a bout of sickness would soon be upon him, and she knew the Duke enough to know that he would not quit even if this was the case.
Her worries were confirmed when she peered into the office and was greeted with the sight of the Duke slumped over on his desk, face sweaty and small rivulets of blood trickling from his lips. He did not notice her presence, instead focused on catching fits of bloody coughs into a handkerchief rather than his papers or clothes. Eyes of crimson, usually clear, were hazy, his brows furrowed as he tried and failed to focus on the task before him.
“Therdeo…” she whispered, slowly stalking closer and resting a hand gently on his shoulder. His eyes blearily blinked up at her, confusion evident in them.
“You’re not well. Return to our chambers with me at once before your condition worsens.”
A sharp jerk of his neck is all she got, a refusal, stubbornness she came to expect from the man before her. His mouth opened, but no words came, another fit of bloody coughs echoing in the room. She sighed, moving the papers before him to the side.
“Your work will be here after you rest. If another seizure is upon you, it would be best if you were in bed. Burning yourself out will only serve to make things worse.”
He pressed his forehead into his palms, and Pereshati could see the moment he conceded. His chair scraped loudly against the floor as he stood. Pereshati quickly moved to his side to help him, his movements clumsy and sluggish as they made the trek back to their quarters, the howling winds outside little distraction from the tension between the couple.
As soon as the pair stumbled into the room, Pereshati guided him to the bed, laying his head gently onto the pillows. She turned to run out and call for Lord Phineas, but was stopped by a grasp on her wrist, gentle yet firm.
“Do not leave..not yet, please.” His voice was soft and desperate, a plea, a prayer, begging her to stay. She looked down at her husband, saddened to see him in such a state. He always tried to remain strong, a pillar for the family, but he was only human as well, no? Years of war and a curse ensuring isolation beyond one’s family would take a toll on anyone, not to mention the guilt he undoubtedly felt over the circumstances of their meeting and her numerous deaths.
Her heart ached at the confliction in his gaze. She wanted him to know he could be vulnerable before her. She wanted him to know that he was so much more than just an heir to the family name, more than a soldier. He could be just a man, just Therdeo with her.
Lifting his head, she shifted to sit against the headboard, resting it in her lap. Her fingers threaded gently through raven hair, a gentle reminder of her presence. She would be there for him. Now and always, she would stand by him, be the person he could let his walls down around.
The hours passed just like that, the rain fading to a gentle pitter-patter on glass, a sweet lullaby in the dead of night. The candles by their bed burnt themselves out, leaving the room in pure darkness.
She could feel him drift in and out of sleep, each time jolting awake. Even in the dark, it felt as if she could see the furrow of his brows, the fear in his eyes from trauma she couldn't even begin to understand. She couldn’t imagine the horrors which plagued the mind of the great man before her.
She leaned down, pressed a gentle kiss to his forehead. His hand came up to cup her cheek, wanting nothing more than to feel her.
"Rest now, my husband." Her voice was soft, a sweet melody in the chaos of his thoughts. "I am here. I will be here when you wake."
She put her hand atop his, turned her face to kiss it, holding it tight.
"You are not alone. Not anymore."
She could feel the gradual release of tension in his body. Slowly, he drifted to a restful slumber, his hand slackening in her grasp. For a moment, she just watched him, waiting for any sign of discomfort on his face.
Pereshati knew not when she fell asleep, only that she arose the next morning to the sound of voices. She blinked awake, adjusting herself to the light of a new day.
In front of her bed stood the family Matriarch as well as Lady Saoirse and Lord Phineas. The three of them looked at her, frozen in place, a mixture of shock.
Of course. They had planned to discuss important matters over breakfast, and she had been late. Why did no one wake her?
She moved to stand and greet them properly, but found herself unable to do so, halted in place by a weight on her lap and a grip on her waist. She looked down and saw Therdeo, still asleep, curled up on her, holding her like a child would a beloved stuffed animal.
She tried to move, to spare them both the embarrassment, but the more she tried to escape his grasp, the tighter it became, unwilling to let her go even in his sleep.
Words caught in her throat. No apology or explanation came, so she simply pursed her lips and lowered her head.
"The Duke and I will be down for breakfast shortly. Please give us some privacy.."
Thankfully, they chose not to comment or pry and simply left the pair in solitude once more.
Pereshati tried to calm her racing heart, her face hot. Therdeo's presence did nothing to aid her. Still, he looked rather peaceful, in a way she had never seen him before, even in sleep.
His head rested in her lap, one cheek squeezed adorably on her thigh, and his arms held her like he would die if she were to escape his grasp. She couldn't help but smile looking at him.
Everyone viewed him as someone to be feared or moulded, a Grand Duke, a war hero, a political chess piece. Did he ever have anyone truly on his side his entire life? Looking at him now, all she could see was her husband. A man deserving of gentle love and care.
Her hand found its way into the silky strands of his hair once more, brushing it from his face. As long as she was there, he would know solitude no longer.
She swore it.