Worship of Trees
And there will come a time, you'll see, with no more tears.
And love will not break your heart, but dismiss your fears.
Get over your hill and see what you find there,
With grace in your heart and flowers in your hair.
"How can you make others happy if you can't even make yourself happy?"
Such a fool he had been to say those words with such conviction, and know full well that he couldn't even live up to them himself. He wasn't a child any more, though, and he couldn't make thoughtless, emotion-fuelled decisions. He was king, and kings didn't...shouldn't...ever feel like this. It was a fallacy to have even entertained the idea in the first place – all those years ago...
Richard shook his head and looked back at his reflection, running the comb through his hair again and flicking his fringe out of his eyes. It was almost time.
"Asbel, I'd hoped you would come,"
He recalled wondering how it felt. People were always distant, suspicious existences so outside his own, and to even let friends in had been strange, and intense – The concept of letting someone in even further...He chuckled softly to himself. Of course, he had let Lambda in easy enough, but this was different. Voluntary. Quite the opposite of what Lambda had sought in him. Someone who sought his positive qualities, and wanted him – not the crown, nor the wealth – just him.
Well, there was only one, Richard knew, and he...yes, he had already found his connection. Strange, how he had thought this would work out. Asbel had come for him when no one else would have, and had stayed at his side, protected him despite all his mistakes and failings...Richard had believed intensely that just maybe Asbel did...
"Richard, I'm getting married,"
Asbel had never smiled like that before – looking for all as if nothing would ever go wrong in the world again, and he couldn't help but return it. Cheria was an amazing woman; she was selfless beyond all measure, and he knew first hand of her saint-like temperament and kindness. If there was any in the world that deserved Asbel it was her, and he knew beyond doubt that she would make him happy.
And yet...Richard shook his head and straightened his collar again, making sure it was flawless, and smoothing his shirt down before going down to the castle's kitchens to make sure the preparations for the reception were all going to plan. The cook beamed when she saw Richard, hurrying over,
"You Majesty!" She had worked for his father originally, and had always been especially kind to Richard during his youth, and his fondness for her hadn't dulled in that time,
"Good morning, Daphne," he smiled at her, "how is the cake coming?" Daphne laughed, her cheeks flushing with mirth as she took him over to the far corners of the vast kitchen to show him. Daphne didn't know Asbel or Cheria particularly well, but it certainly seemed she had done her research – the three-tiered cake's white icing was decorated with pink butterflies, and silver birds designs that were clearly inspired by Asbel's uniform. Surrounding the base were a number of smaller cakes each with the silver or pink designs from the main cake.
"Thank you." Daphne laughed and shook her head,
"No need to thank me, boy," she patted his arm, "I had hoped it would be your wedding, though,"
Richard's smile dimmed a bit and he nodded once, giving her a quiet platitude about just looking, and excused himself quietly,
"Your Highness," Daphne stopped him and handed him one of the smaller cakes, "this one was the first I made. It didn't quite turn out as I'd planned but...ah, I'm sure it'll still taste good," she smiled and shooed him out of the kitchens then.
Richard looked down at the little cake in his hand. The silver design on it curled into design more familiar than even that of Asbel's – the Windor crest. He smirked faintly and went back to his rooms, setting the cake on his desk and checking the time as he grabbed his jacket, slipping it on and checking his reflection one last time.
In the mirror was a confident, assured man. A king. Richard gave his reflection a curt nod and left the room, heading to the hall.
Asbel turned when Richard entered, and smiled widely at him in a way that made Richard's lungs freeze up for a moment. He smiled back and slowly exhaled as he approached the altar. Asbel held his hand out to Richard and warmly shook it before drawing him into a brief hug. Asbel smelled like sandalwood, and a spice Richard couldn't quite place. The slight outline of toned chest he felt was warm, and reassuringly solid, and if Asbel felt Richard lean into the embrace more than he should have, he didn't comment.
"Thank you, Richard, all of this is...It's perfect, and it's all thanks to you."
Richard shook his head,
"No...thank you, Asbel," he smiled and reluctantly stepped back, going to take his seat. The music soon started up, and Richard turned to catch a glimpse of Cheria in her gown. Richard had asked the tailor to draw inspiration from the goddess of hope to whom the Royal Sanctuary was dedicated, and the finished product was a true credit to the man's talent.
Turning back to Asbel, Richard caught the way his expression softened, a little smile playing on his lips as he took in his bride.
Asbel's gaze flicked to Richard for a second, that expression not changing. When questioned later Richard would claim he had simply been moved to tears by the grandeur of Cheria's dress, and his happiness for his closest friends.
Asbel had looked at him for just a second with all the tenderness and affection of a lover, and for that second Richard let himself dream again.
