Author's note: I've always wondered what Henry would have thought the first time he saw Danielle's scars (because obviously there would be scars from where who'd been whipped). So here's my take on that scenario
Disclaimer: I do not own Ever After or any of its characters
This was their first. In the days previous, they had been separated, not wanting to risk being seen officially as man and wife until the Baroness had laid her eyes on the crown atop her stepdaughter's head. They agreed they would not share a bed, nor a room, until the woman was convicted for her crimes. And it had finally happened.
Danielle and Henry were allowed to converge as the married couple they were. Granted, they had only had to wait a few days. But a few days can feel like years to lovers. Henry opened the door to their bedroom and bowed dramatically.
"Milady," he crooned. Danielle smiled widely and stepped over the threshold with light feet.
"You are too kind, sir," she said. He looked up at her, chuckling.
"Only for you, my love." He straightened up, closed the door, and strolled over to her. He placed his hands on either side of her face, stroking her cheeks with his thumbs. His face softened, eyes narrowed and mouth straighter. Danielle's breath hitched.
"Are you happy?" he asked. She closed her eyes and leaned into his touch.
"Exceedingly so." A slight smile appeared as he pressed his lips to her in a gentle kiss. The two broke apart, dizzy with love. Henry sighed.
"Shall we go to bed?" Danielle asked, breaking the silence.
"We shall," he agreed. Each went to opposite ends of the chamber to undress. They stood facing their own mirrors and began removing clothing, placing each garment atop a chest that sat next to the mirror.
Henry started with his boots, slipping each one off and setting it beside the chest. Next, the shirt. He started unbuttoning from the top. On the last one, he noticed movement in the mirror. Without even looking he knew that it was the reflection of his wife. He knew it rude but he craved for a quick glance. And alas, man is weak, especially a man in love when temptation is near. His eyes crept to the reflection of his wife. She was in her dressing gown, her long hair swept off of her back so that she could brush it. He shuddered at her beauty, even from behind. His eyes came to rest on several marks of bright red against her cream skin. Alarmed, he spun around. Pressing his full gaze into her back, he realized what they were: scars.
Danielle did not notice him turn around, nor did she notice him approach her. Only when his forehead pressed to the back of her neck and his hands went to her shoulders was she aware. She ceased brushing and chose to gaze at his reflection in the mirror.
"It would appear that I have already failed you as a husband," Henry said solemnly. She looked at his reflection quizzically, thinking this was the start of some sort of romantic banter.
"And what, pray tell, have you done wrong?" she asked, her tone much lighter than his. He lifted his head and stared at her back. With one hand he traced the old wounds. Seeing them up close, he could tell that they were fairly new. Danielle looked at her husband's grim face in the mirror, understanding his words. Her face was calm, though.
"Henry, please," she started. "You must understand–" Henry cut her off, turning around and throwing his hands in the air.
"Understand what, that I couldn't protect you? That I could have stopped this from happening if I had just come down from my pedestal of ignorance?" He came to the chest at the foot of their bed and sat on it. He put his head in his hands. Danielle turned to face him, her demeanor remaining calm. She walked over to him and knelt down in front of him. She looked up at his hands.
"You did not know me, Henry; you did not the true nature of my circumstance, and for that the blame is on me. And what happened to me, this was my stepmother's doing. There was nothing you could do. Do not be so hard on yourself, dear husband." She put her hand on one of his. Henry took her delicate hand between his and dropped them to his lap, his eyes pleading. She reached up and rested her free hand on his cheek. They stared into each other's eyes.
"And yet I cannot help feel responsible," he said. Danielle smiled sadly.
"Henry, in no way was this your fault. And there is nothing we can do about it now. This was a chapter in my life, but we need not dwell on it." She straightened up so that their foreheads touched. "You have me now. I am yours always." A small smile graced his lips.
"As have you of me, my love." They melted into a kiss.
Thanks for reading. Reviews are always appreciated so let me know what you think if you feel so compelled.