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Apple slowly blinked awake, ears just picking up the sound of muffled cries. The space behind her, where Darling would usually be cupping her through the night, was empty. Cold. Like Darling had been gone for hours.
Apple rubbed the sleep out of her eyes, squinting to make out anything in the dark of the bedroom, where Darling was.
Darling was sitting on the edge of their bed, Apple could just barely make out the shape of a sword in her hands.
It was very rare that Apple heard Darling cry, even after their 12 years of marriage. It was a sad, gentle thing, Darling's cry. It was never loud, never angry, never had a sharpened edge. It was soft, heartbreaking, always quiet, like a slow waterfall running over rocks. The first time Apple heard it, she had to silence her thoughts just to hear it.
Apple tucked a stray hair behind her ear, tilting her head at the sight on the foot of the bed. "Sweetie?" She reached out, as though Darling was in reaching distance.
Darling's head popped up, like a baby deer realising it had been spotted.
"Sweetheart, what's wrong?"
Apple shuffled herself over to Darling's side, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. She looked down at the sword, still held in her Darling's calloused grip. She recognised the glare of the gem. King Charming's sword.
"Oh...."
When King Charming passed a year and a half ago, no one really knew how to feel. Especially Darling. Nights were spent with Apple squeezing a seemingly empty Darling, who was as close to looking feeling as Apple did alive in her poisoned sleep. But Apple had felt the storm inside Darling's head, even if Darling herself refused to be rocked by it.
Darling and King Charming had been distant since long before his death. He refused to see her as anything but a confused princess, never acknowledging her achievements or anything she did besides wearing a tiara. Darling all but cut him off, seeing him occasionally at family and royal events. It was always tense between them, around him Darling held the same demeanour as she did when guarding.
Apple kissed away a tear as it fell down Darling's cheek, massaging her fingers into her shoulder. Darling's jaw hardened. Apple just shook her head, starting to kiss along it until it softened again.
"I never got it."
Darling's voice came after a long silence, cracked and soft. Apple sat up, brushing hair out of Darling's face. This was the first time Darling had actually spoken about her father. "What do you mean, baby?"
"I always hoped that one day he'd come around, tell me he was wrong, that I'm a skilled knight. That I've built myself a life to be proud of, a respected knight with a beautiful wife. Even just one nod acknowledging what I've done, acknowledging me like he did Daring and Dexter. Like I'm actually his child."
Darling's hands shook, the sword shivering in her grip. "There isn’t a chance now. It's gone. The one thing I ever wanted from him."
Apple had to purse her lips. She prided herself on giving Darling everything she wanted, all the paraphernalia a knight could dream of, every kiss and every word of affection. She didn't know how to feel about there being something Darling wanted and not being able to give it.
"Do you miss him?"
For the first time, Darling looked up at Apple, shaking her head. "It doesn't make sense. I would have been happy to never see him again, but every time I did, I cared so much about what he saw. Why do I even want this? What's so special about him that he can treat me like I'm nothing and I'll still come back hoping for something else?"
"Maybe you just want another version of him. A version of him that appreciates you for who you are. Sometimes I think about what it would be like if my mom was different, if she accepted me, us." Apple rested her head on Darling’s shoulder, watching as Darling traced her finger over the intricate detailing of the sword handle. She still remembered when it came to their castle. A month after the passing, Daring came to their door, the sword in his hands and his eyes lowered. He said it felt wrong for him to take it, and placed it into Darling’s hands. “It should go to the knight of the family,” he said. Apple didn’t know what Darling did with it after that.
“I had a dream.”
Apple nodded, starting to trace patterns similar to the sword’s on Darling’s shoulder.
“We were in the yard when I was younger. I was helping Dexter practice his sword-fighting skills, like Dad asked him to. I beat him, and he dropped his sword and put his hands up. Then Dad came out, he looked at us and told me to go easier on him,” Darling sniffed, Apple watched her tremble. “He squeezed my shoulder, told me I was too good, I’ll be the next knight of the family.”
Apple ignored the pain swelling in her own chest, starting to run her fingers through Darling’s hair. In all the years she’s known Darling, loved her, she’s never been this open about her father.
“That happened once. Dexter begged me to help him because Dad was getting on him about how bad he was at sword fighting. I did. When Dad came out, he grabbed the sword from my hands and threw it, told me to get back inside and behave. He didn’t even notice that I won like it was nothing.”
A tear ran down Darling’s cheek, then another, and one from Apple, too.
“Come here, baby,” Apple whispered, choked up. Darling dropped the sword to her feet to retreat into Apple, hiding her face in her hair. “Shhh, shhhh,” Apple stroked her hair, kissing her on the head. She tried her best to ignore the yearning to all but kill King Charming, regretting every tight-lipped moment she tried to be polite with him, wishing she had torn into him while she could.
“You know I’m proud of you, don’t you, Darling? Me, Dexter, Daring, Raven, Rosabella, we’re all so proud of you,” Apple talked into her ear, even though deep down she knew all the pride in the world just wasn’t the same. She knew that feeling well. Darling burrowed deeper into Apple, murmuring an acknowledgement.
“I’m sorry,” Darling choked, pulling away to wipe her eyes. Apple cupped her face in her hands, thumb stroking her wet cheek.
“Mm-mm. You’re not being sorry, sweetie. You have nothing to be sorry for. This is his fault.”
Darling nodded, lip trembling and tears starting to flow again as if it was the first time she was hearing those words. Apple wondered if it actually was.
Gently, Apple kissed Darling’s nose, and it brought a smile to her face. The sight made Apple’s heart soar higher than any dove could.
“Do you want to lie down, sweetie?”
Darling nodded weakly. Apple gave her cheek one last wipe before settling back on her side of the bed, resting against the pillows, stretching her legs out in front of her. She patted her lap, staring expectantly at Darling. Darling slowly crawled up the bed, leaving her father’s sword on the floor.
She lay down, resting her head on Apple’s lap, eyes instantly falling shut as Apple’s hand reached her head. It was a far cry from how they usually cuddled. Darling always assumed a protective position, holding her tightly, guarding her. But Apple didn’t feel like being protected right now; she felt like comforting. She wanted to take that weight off of Darling’s shoulders and bear it for at least a few minutes.
Like it was magically summoned, gentle rain started to hit the windows, one of Darling’s favourite sounds. Third only to the sound of swords clashing and Apple’s singing voice, her words, not Apple’s.
Quietly, Apple started to hum, she didn’t fully remember the song, something she heard at a True Hearts day dance when her and Darling were in Ever After High. Her fingers still played with Darling’s soft hair, threading the blonde and blue together. She wished so, so much that she could just pull all of the pain out of her Darling’s body, but she’d get as close to it as she could.
Even with a damp face, Darling was so beautiful. It had amazed Apple, how a girl could be so pretty, so handsome. One look and you knew she was a Charming. Apple didn’t understand how just one look at Darling didn’t fill King Charming’s heart with pride; she was the epitome of what their family claimed to be. Brave, chivalrous, strong, undoubtedly charming.
His loss, she thought, pulling Darling’s hair away from her face, admiring her strong features.
She’d hold Darling like she was the most loved, cherished knight in the world, because that’s exactly what she was to her.