She snuck out of the castle, as she so often did. But unlike the times she snuck away to practice magic, this time she was sneaking away to see you. The King had returned from another of his long journeys. Making it difficult and more dangerous for you to appear out of thin and silent air, before filling it back up with the quiet thrash of velvet lips against the rougher variety you possessed.
She snuck away when she was to be on a ride, tying her horse to a tree stump before you, once again, appeared out of thin air, and had her wedged between you and a nearby tree within an instant. Crystalline eyes met warm and welcoming brown and the weeks that had passed since your first dalliance together had proven that once, twice, thrice, would never be enough.
You began this affair, although that's not really a fair term, even if the King would see it as such. You began this, association of lips and skin and somehow along the way, you began to feel something. Possessiveness, entitlement — things you were guilty of on more counts than even you can recall. You're a thief. And a thief will always want what isn't his. And have no qualms about taking it.
"It isn't fair."
It's a vague and simple sentiment. One breathed out against her cheek, that has her eyebrows knitting in soft confusion.
"What isn't?"
"This. Him."
"I know." Her voice is tinged with solemnity. As it always is when she is reminded of what her life really consists of. What it's meant to. What it can't.
"He has no idea — of what he is wasting. Sometimes I imagine telling him,"
"We'd be hanged. Or worse."
"Not if I had anything to say about it." A cocky grin can only get you so far. But with her, so far is more than enough.
"And what would you have to say?" Two hands come up to hold at the lapels of your jacket, shining eyes glancing up at you, a shy sort of challenge in her tone and her expression.
"I would say — that a King should know better, than to leave his Queen alone and vulnerable to the wiles of a man who's seen more than he can imagine. That the way his Queen sighs, is reason enough for this man to risk seeing her, to risk wanting her, time and time again."
In the midst of your disclosure, her expression began to change. And suddenly just-discernible breaths left her lips for the honesty and wantonness with which your words were released.
"I would say that for a King he is a fool, and that taking his Queen in as many rooms, as many corridors as were available, was the least I could do to make up for it."
"I don't think he would enjoy that very much."
"Exactly why I would do it."
For a minute you simply look at each other, knowing that your time is limited, in more ways than one if you cared to be rational about it. But rational isn't what you put you here. And as here is where you've chosen to be, rational will just have to find someone else's day to rain on.
"You know, it would be a shame if this played out and one room in particular had gone unused."
"Jefferson," she scolds you. And then and there your determination is already piqued and ready to see it through.
"It would be so easy, when he goes away..."
"Jefferson, no — I can't, do that. I can't-" You kiss her to silence her protest. Pull away and hope for a more agreeable response.
"Why not?"
"If he ever found out, if he knew-"
"He won't." You always sound so sure when you say that. "But you will. And every time he-, just think of me and know that I am there with you." You're rotten at reassurance and you know it. And her eyes reflect it back to you more clearly than you like.
"It won't help." You hate how immediately young and broken she sounds. "I can't imagine you when it's, him. I've, tried." It's times like this you have every urge to scoop her up and leap into your hat just to see what would happen. This spell that keeps her tied to him, could it really stop you?
You try not to sound insensitive, try to sway her thoughts back to this plan of yours. "But if I had been there, perhaps it would help."
She looks at you with ever-trusting eyes. Trust you know you've done little to gain, less to deserve. And deserving it is something you never thought you would be concerned with. And yet here you are, wanting to be deserving.
"You know, you don't need magic to hurt someone. You could hurt him without his even knowing. But you would know. And no one, not even he could take that away from you."
"I hurt him all the time."
"Not like this would."
"Jefferson I don't, know if I can."
"Then you don't have to. But the next time he leaves just know, I would happy to defile his wife, in his bed."
She rolls her eyes at you, and a small smile pulls at her lips, mirroring the one on yours. "I'm sure you would be." But just when you think she's back to playing along her expression falters again, and her eyes look up at you with pain far too deeply ingrained in them. "I don't, want to think about him anymore. I don't have very much time before I have to be back."
Her gaze drops away from you and then drifts back up, trying to find her strength but you can see it isn't working. "Jefferson, please."
You drop your lips down to hers, trying to will her sadness away. Pushing her back harder into the tree and wishing you had enough time to take her mind off all this completely. But you don't. So a kiss will just have to do.