Christopher was, as predicted, a complete moron. Deceiving him was so easy, she almost felt a scrap of pity for the young man.
Ducking beneath rogue branches and carefully watching for anything that threatened to trap her, Caitlin gracefully fled through the forest proper towards her true destination. If destiny smiled upon her, Christopher the knight would soon return to her father and inform him of her intention to arrive at Salvis Topar within the next two days. The King would send an emissary to retrieve her from the Silver Kingdom, giving her just enough time to return with. If fate truly desired to have things go her way, perhaps her father would have the knight exiled or, better still, executed for failing to protect her.
The dark blue of the sky gave way to complete darkness. There was no way he could find her now. Caitlin decided to sit down, legs crossed, near a creek for a quick drink. Her deception was so utterly perfect she figured a small respite was acceptable. She cupped her hands and brought the ice cold liquid to her lips, her not quite parched mouth happily lapping up the purified water.
"Praise the Creator," The Princess whispered to herself. "That is good."
Above her, a bird's wings fluttered as the animal sped away, soon lost to the darkness. Was it cruel of her to allow Christoph to fall so she could have more time? He seemed like such an earnest, honest fellow, and he swore and oath to serve her father. In all likelihood, her father would deem him worthy of mercy, and, if not, she could convince him his failure stemmed from ineptitude rather than malice, unworthy of exile or death.
"I'm beginning to think you don't like me very much."
With the reflexes of a starved wolverine, Caitlin was on her feet, an arrow aimed directly at the source of the disturbance. Relief quickly gave me to anger, as it was him, arms crossed and an insufferably smug expression on his face.
"How did you find me?" She asked."You're not the only one who can track a target, Princess Snow." Barry said as she considered the probability of someone discovering his body out here. Caitlin could only stand there mystified. How could she have been so inept as to let this buffoon track her down like some sort of bear? If this bumbling moron could hunt her with a rudimentary understanding of warfare, that meant she might've possibly overestimated her own abilities.
Barry uncrossed his arms and moved closer to her. "I swore an oath to protect the people of Amorado, and that includes you." She backed up in response, an arrow still trained at his face.
"You know there's a difference between courageous and stupid, Allen?" Caitlin asked.
"And I'm sure you know that if I could track you down, others could just as easily. There's a difference between courageous and stupid, yes?"
Caitlin couldn't deny he was correct on both counts. She still harbored a powerful desire to knock the knowing look off his face, but her attention was drawn to a small pillar of smoke rising among the trees some distance away from them. Barry turned to face it as well.
"Is that your doing?" Caitlin asked.
"I was going to ask you the same thing." Barry said.
Having established a temporary treaty, the two holstered their weapons and carefully made their way through the underbrush towards the fire, discovering a pair preparing a small encampment. The pale, yellow skin, smooth, hairless, and covered in blood red tattoos meant it could be only one muscle-bound creature.
"Gologs," Caitlin whispered. "They're undead spirits of killers, thieves and tyrant-"
Shh." Barry furtively snapped at her.
She picked up some small projectile, a pinecone, and hurled it at the side of his head. "Shush me again and I'll cut out your tongue, oaf."
He scowled at her. "I will shush you whenever the mood strikes me."
Tarvag, ya damn ingrate! Ya' killed the fire just as it got done and wasted our mostra! Now what're gonna drink?" Pildrough Fleakeeper berated his comrade after the fire dissipated.
"Why we even makin' dis' fire?" Tarvag, Carver of Faces said. "We're supposed to be huntin' the humans, not keepin' em' nice and warm!"
"Because, ya' drakkamore, we're gonna use it to draw em' over here and then we're gonna kill em'!" He responded as he took a knee and got to work on starting up the fire again.
Several beats of heavy silence passed, during which Tarvag concluded he should at least attempt to remedy their relationship.
"Pildrough, you ever think there's more to life than just killin' and plunderin' folks?"
"How do you mean?"
"Well, once dah' thief takes up dah' Sword of Sunlight and dah' Mastah' has his new vessel and rules dah' world, what're gonna do? You know I love tourturin' the weak and all, but you think Mastah' won't have need for us? You think he'll let me...I don't know, paint a picture?"
"Oh, I get it," Pildrough said. "Paintin' a picture with the blood of yer' enemies."
"Not really, I mean like bein' an artist. Like writin' a song."
"Writin' a song with the screams of the weak?"
"No, dammit; I wanna do somethin' fulfilling! See the world and write a book about my experiences!"
"About all the fleshbags you've slaughtered?"
"Forget it'," Tarvag waved away the conversation. "Do ya' think we gotta keep fightin' if he's gonna be at full powah'?"
Such questions were rarely considered among Golog-kind. "You wanna do somethin' other than fightin'?" Pildrough asked, incredulous.
"Ah' course. What? You wanna spend the rest ah' ya' days huntin' a bloodeh princess and her bodyguard?"
"Mastah' said she's all alone. And I ain't nevah' hurd of her havin' a boyfriend or anything like that." Said Pildrough, still struggling to revive the fire.
"Then why the hell there gotta be twoa' us? She's a princess! Coulda' got a slave-glog who neveh' held an axe in his lyfe to take carea' her!
"Princess Snow must not be underestimated; she's as crafty as she is ugly."
"Yah' think da' princess is ugly?"
"Don't get me mistaken': all fleshbags sicken me to me very bein', but she's extra disgustin'. Please don't tell me you got some feelins' for her or somethin'."
"No, no," Tarvag said defensively putting his hands. "I just think she's...not bad as most. Is' weird; parta' me wants to bring her head to mastah', but there's a parta' me dat' wanna see if she likes me' songs."
Tarvag's thought quickly matured into a plan; he could very easily pick up his war-axe and decapitate Pildrough in one swift stroke. Then, when the Princess strolled by, he sing her a song. Enchanted with his voice, she'd force her father to give him a position on the court, and the whole world would gradually come to love and appreciate his music rather than fear and revile him.
"Songs?" Pildgrough asked, incredulous. "Whadya' mean songs? You sing songs?"
Tarvag cleared his throat, preparing one of his personal favorites. "I'm afraid, Princess, that you run out of time!" The beast sang with glee. "For you now face the golog of rhyme!" He concluded with an expectant smile. Having never revealed his love of music, it took a great deal of courage to expose himself to his closest friend.
"Tarvag, listen to meh, you know da' sun?"
"You mean dat' big, bright thing's always hangin' out up above?"
"Mastah's gonna want take over other worlds, just like dat' one, cuz he can prolly fly with magic n'all that. And who the bloody hell knows what kinda creatures live up der-"
Pildrough's explanation was cut short as Caitlin's arrow pierced the darkness and his heart. Before Tarvag knew what was happening, Barry's hand covered his mouth and a dagger slid across his throat.
The Princess kicked Pildrough's body to make sure he was down for good. "As I was saying before you interrupted me, gologs are the spirits of the dregs of society transferred into these malformed grotesqueries. Only a necromancer of considerable power could summon them." Caitlin explained.
"I know what gologs are," Barry said. "And I'm sure you know something about that 'thief taking the Sword of Sunlight' business."
Caitlin hesitated, clearly trying to find a worthy lie. "It's a sword."
"A sword?" He asked, feigning surprise.
"Yes."
"Well, I guessed that part," Barry crossed his arms and gave her a skeptical look. "What's so special about this sword?"
She let out a hefty sigh as if to tell Barry he was actually going to get something resembling the truth. "It's an ancient artifact capable of terrible destruction."
"I see. And how is it that you alone have such knowledge of this Sword of Sunlight? I've never heard so much as a passing reference to this sword in all my years."
The Princess paused for a moment. "It was revealed to me in a vision."
"A vision?" He asked, almost amused.
"Do you intend to mimic everything I say as if we're both five years of age?"
In an ideal world, the Princess would be safe in the walls of the castle back home, but it was becoming increasingly clear nothing could convince her. Even if she was a far more capable fighter than he anticipated, skulking around crypts and long forgotten temples alone in search of some mystical sword created to enslave humanity or whatever was no job for a Princess, particularly one as beautiful and intelligent as Caitlin Snow. The fear made him more resolute than ever to assist her despite her increasingly elaborate attempts at dismissing him. In all likelihood, the two of them would do little more than wander around Amorado and the surrounding lands for a few days before she gave up her baseless dream and returned home. Hopefully, their journey would last two or three days. Of course, he spent years fantasizing about spending extended periods of time with Caitlin, but putting her in danger to satisfy his desire was both stupid and morally reprehensible.
Barry considered the matter of his grandparents fretting over his prolonged absence, not to mention the inevitable he was in for with his commanding officer, but Caitlin was unlikely to care for such objections and asking her to meet up with him after he handled his personal affairs was out of the question. But if destiny decreed he wander aimlessly in search of a magical sword of dubious origin, Barry wouldn't object to having Princess Snow as his companion. Such a condition made the prospect more than appealing.
"If this sword is a real thing..." Barry began.
"It is." Caitlin interjected.
"If we assume this sword is a real thing and you want it so badly, why not tell your father and have the King's Legion take care of it?" Barry asked as he ran a hand over the thick, light brown coat of his horse. Ever reliable, the stallion met the pair at the edge of the forest, the valley stretching out before them.
"Even if he did believe me, a battalion of his soldiers moving on Biphate territory for dubious justifications would risk compromising the peace agreement." She said.
"Then if a necromancer who can summon gologs is after it as well, will you please let me help you?" Barry asked.
Even cloaked in darkness, he could still see the fire in her eyes, burning and consuming. "Fine." It was almost a whisper, as if it somehow pained the Princess to concede.
As he achieved victory, a low bustling in the distance became increasingly clear. The two looked over to find Barry's horse and ally of many years clomp towards them.
Barry smiled and bent down in order to boost her onto the horse. Caitlin's athleticism was well established, but she was of average height and Malcot was quite large. "You can't deny we make an effective partnership. Those two had no idea what-
The look of vague disgust returned to her face at the sight of his gesture. She nimbly hopped up, landing on top of the saddle.
"Mmm," Caitlin said examining the horse for any worth. "You'll do. Does he have a name?"
Barry lifted himself up and slid a leg over his compatriot. "Malcot." He said with a hint of pride.
"He deserves nomenclature worthy of his master," Caitlin said. "Horse, I dub you: Useless."
Barry rolled his eyes and imagined the snide look of satisfaction on her face. "Your wit is boundless, Princess." He prepared to kick Malcot's side but waited until she was properly seated. He turned back to find her looking at him, confused.
"What?" Caitlin asked.
"I can't move until you're firmly secured." He said.
"I mastered the art of horseback riding when I was thirteen."
"Most impressive, Princess, but I won't risk your safety. I need you to put your arms around my waist."
"Not to save your life, Allen. Do you take me for some empty headed maiden-in-waiting?" She snarked. "I-is this another stupid attempt to woo me? I pity the women of Amorado." Her nervous delivery betrayed her nonchalance.
The knight shrugged. "Alright, then, I guess we have to wait."
The two sat atop Malcot. There wasn't a sound beyond a bird fluttering away and the vague sound of rushing water. Eventually, Caitlin let out a sigh of resignation and wrapped her arms around Barry's midsection. He smiled, only slightly disappointed she didn't rest her head on his back.
Once they were underway, Allen explained the location in question was somewhere in the valleys of the Amorado's largest territory, Alechia.
Caitlin disliked the idea of stopping to rest, only partially because Allen was so insistent about her getting proper sleep, but it had been some time and distance since the beginning of her journey. There was no sense in trying to face a necromancer while barely awake, after all.
"So, how do you know these people?" Caitlin asked to Barry's back as Useless tore through the night.
"I know them because I stayed with them when I was younger from time to time. They make clothing and food, but they've now converted their home into a residency of sorts."
"Oh, God," She cackled. "Don't tell me, is the owner's daughter your girlfriend? She's your childhood love or something equally pathetic, isn't she?"
He didn't bother with a snarky retort, so she dropped the subject.
"Even if you help me with my quest, don't expect me to fall for you like we're in one of those fables parents read to their children." Caitlin said. Her servant was not a prince, and not even the most depraved dark magic could make him charming.
"I wouldn't dream of it, Princess." Barry said.
"Good. Because I would never even consider you as anything other than a repulsive ogre cleverly disguised as a human. Now that I mention it, perhaps you have a firmer grasp of magic than I originally assumed.
"I think you'll find I'm full of surprises."
The way Useless moved with grace and speed over the dirt and trees, through the peaks and dips of the valley, Allen very clearly had a firm grasp on the art. The lack of sunlight had no adverse effect on their movement. Perhaps his time under her father's command did him well.
"You're not half bad at horseback riding, Allen," She said, only then realizing it vaguely resembled a compliment. "That's one thing in your life you perform with marginal competence. I suppose your beast-like nature has some benefits."
"As I said, I'm full or surprises."
When they were mere inches from their destination, Princess Caitlin Snow placed her hands on the stallion, gently caressing its skin and faintly detecting its booming heart. The somewhat rugged exterior betrayed a natural ability for braving the dangers of the terrain and an unflinching devotion to its master. She knew she would have to commend him on a job well done.
"I was wrong to dub you 'Useless', for that title far better suits your master." She smiled at her companion as he dismounted.
"I'll remind you again that I am your protect-"
"I require no such protection, and if you call me your 'lady' one more time, I'll split your face in two, pretty boy!" Caitlin hit back before he used that insipid word again.
He extended his arms out to her. "So, I'm prett-"
To silence the dunce before he could conclude the thought, she cleanly slid off the horse. "I mastered the art of horseback riding when I was thirteen years of age," Caitlin was inches from his face. "My father's best tutors said I was the most naturally gifted pupil they ever saw." She concluded with assured finality, even if she could feel something strange stirring in her face and stomach. "And I certainly don't need your germs anywhere near me."
They stood there, considering each other with cutting intensity.
"Well," Caitlin said, becoming increasingly anxious under his undivided scrutiny. "Don't just stand there. I command you as your superior to go in first!"
Inside, the well-lit room was largely unremarkable with the exception of paintings of various dwarves of typically craggy complexion adorning the walls and a counter towards the end. Before them sat a female dwarf. Eleven feet in height with pointed ears and weighing far more than Caitlin's mass several times over, she wore spectacles and was currently writing inscriptions in parchment with a Kefkab's toenail.
"I say to thee, pathetic shopkeep, that you will relinquish to me your finest room for a price of my decision, that being nothing." Barry deepened his voice slightly to greet the woman.
"Yah, yah, shut your face and let me," She removed her spectacles, but was rendered immobile upon seeing Barry. "If me eyes ain't stuffed in somethin' disgustin', it's Barry Allen!" She almost leaped over the counter utilizing an unnatural athleticism and greeted Barry with a vicious, terrific hug that made Caitlin genuinely worry for his life. "How the feck are you, you little buggah'?"
"Great to see you, Mrs. O'Doerey." Barry squeezed out before being dropped once the dwarf made eye contact with the Princess.
"Princess Snow!" Immediately deferential, she bent to a knee and delicately took Caitlin's hand. "I am honored to be in your very pre-"
"We're on a top secret mission from the King," Barry interceded, still recovering. "So we'd very much appreciate it if you kept the bragging to a minimum for now."
Her eyes signified revelation and compliance. "Oh," the dwarf whispered. "We love the King in this household, and I'll keep a thing a' mostra in me teeth if they capture me," The quiet was once again shattered by the raging power of her voice. "Carlot! Carlot, quit futzin' around and get in here, we got companeh'!" She bellowed behind them, the reverberations shaking Caitlin to her very being.
"Stuff your bloodeh' cakehole, Carlota, ya fookin' jawdonkey, I'm comin'!" A voice from beyond called out and the ground shook as Carlot emerged from the adjacent staircase, equally titanic as his wife. "Barry!" Once again, the knight was firmly secured in a bear-like hug after Carlot easily stepped over the boundary.
"Princee-" He said before Carlota quickly put her husband in a choke-hold, causing Barry to drop to the floor.
"Can't say nothin' bout havin' the Princess here. They're on a top secret mission for the King hisself."
"Oooh, secret mission. Sounds…mighty secretish'," Her husband whispered before she released him. "Well then!" Carlot yelled immediately after. "Since you're our first ever customahs', you get the best dang ol' room in the whole place! C'mon, Barry!" He lightly tapped him in the shoulder, nearly shattering it. "First, yah' gotta see what we've been workin' on, then I give yah' some nice clothes!"
Caitlin decided to lag behind for a moment as the two ascended the stairs, wanting to engage Carlota in further conversation.
"You have a very lovely home here, Mrs. O'Doerery." She said.
The dwarf was utterly elated at the compliment. "Aww, that's mighty fine of you, Princess! And don't worry 'bout payin' neither. Even if Barry weren't family, we'd let you spend the rest of yer days here free ah' charge. We only ask that you recommend our humble establishment to all your papa's rich friends, eh?"
"I most certainly will," Caitlin smiled back. "May I ask how you and your husband know Christia-uh, Barry?"
Carlota smiled. "Me hubby and his grandaddeh' been friends since they were the size of an apple stem; both his grandaddeh' and his dad helped us with buildin' this here in which we now stand, and sometimes we looked after the youngster when his papa went off to fight for the Land and his ma' had to take care with the business. The gradaddeh' runs a bakery cuz they make this bread with a bit ah' magic, mighty delicious."
Barry's reticence to reveal any portion of his history was cast into harsh illumination; didn't want to reveal his somewhat lowly status relative to her. "What was he like in his younger years?" Caitlin asked.
Mrs. O'Doerery's smile grew even larger. "A kinder little lad never did exist in all the lands, I promise ya that. Talked to anyone bout' anythin', always helpin' folks whether they ask for it or not, standin' up for the little guys. Even as a youngster, sweet and kind as a cake bathed in chocolate," She declared. "His parents, too; better, more handsomer' folk never walked our world," Carlota added with a sigh. "Whole place's a bit bleaker with em' not around."
A sullen silenced followed, and Caitlin felt a distinct pain at the sadness plastered across the visage before her.
"May I inquire as to what happen-"
"Ya' know, when he was just a boy," Mrs. O'Doerey interrupted the Princess, totally unaware that the latter was speaking. "He wanted to be a knight, yes he did," She nodded and the infectious grin returned. "It was too bloodeh' adorable; he wanted to be a knight at eleven years ah' age, said he'd seen the most beautiful lass in all the land. Said she'd only ever even thinka' him if he was the strongest, most bravest warrior in the King's Legion, that's for true."
Caitlin considered a thought for a moment, and she was powerless to stop its sudden exfiltration.
"Did he ever clarify as to the woman in question?" Certainly any lady who could so firmly secure Barry's affections must've been of mythical beauty.
The innkeeper suddenly brandished a sly smile. "Ahh," She said knowingly. "He's mighty handsome, ain'te?"
Caitlin's mind went blank. "Uhh…" She dumbly said as Carlot returned.
"Barry's waitin' for ya' in your room, Miss Nonroyal."
She said her thanks, went up the stairs, and opened the only ajar door. "You know, Allen, perhaps you're not as useless as I-"
Sometning cut her off. Silencing Caitlin Snow was no easy feat, but the horror inside was enough to render her mute, eyes wide and mouth agape.
"What?" Allen asked. "Is everything alright?"
"Buh..." She made an attempt at a coherent response. "I-juh...you."
"Caitlin, what's wrong?"
Anger got the better of her. His teasing was simply too much. "You...you don't have clothes on! Why don't you have clothes on?" She struggled to keep the volume down, her eyes fixated on his bare stomach.
Allen's stupid face once again lit up like a comet. He dodged her gaze. "I am wearing pants, and I will remind you that you barged in here."
Rather than allowing the dunce to continually fluster her, Caitlin slammed the door shut. Out of sight, the image of a shirtless Allen was already seared into memory. The knight was far more muscular than anticipated and his stomach looked similar to one found on a marble statue of a mythical hero. Doubtless, this was yet another underhanded tactic of his to woo her, to undermine her resolve. Perhaps taking his clothes off attracted lesser women like starving wolves to meat, but the Princess would have none of such foolishness.
Still, she remained outside the room, arms crossed. Didn't want to risk encountering further aesthetic sorcery.
Thirty seconds later, the door opened, and a mercifully fully clothed Allen stood before her.
"I find it helpful to knock before entering rooms. Manners are so-"
Caitlin stormed into the room, forcing him back. Once her dominance was reasserted, she turned back, sticking an index finger in his face. "Try anything like that again, and I fill you with arrows."
She turned back, but her journey was quickly brought to an end, once again stunned by an apocalyptic revelation
"I didn't try anything, and I'll have you know that...what's the problem now?" He dutifully asked.
"There's only one bed. Will you next inquire as to the color of the sky, or can you circumnavigate that intellectual quagmire yourself?" Caitlin asked in kind.
"As anyone with eyes can easily tell," Barry hit back. "There's more than enough space for two humans, although I can sleep on the floor if I truly repulse you. Perhaps we can use my sword as a buttress"
Caitlin waved the idea away. "No, no, I'm a fair superior…just don't get any funny ideas. And don't even think about crossing over into my portion."
"How am I supposed to know which is your portion?"
"You'll figure it out."
Caitlin could sense's her partner's gaze as she moved towards the lone window providing a view of the valley beyond and removed her boots. She again scowled at his lack of manners. "Turn around!" She nervously said. "I can't change if you're drooling at me like some sort of monkey!" It was only removing her boots, but they needed to establish essential rules.
"I'm sorry, Princess. I promise I'm not some sort of barbarian." He said.
She tsked. "You're indistinguishable from one. Get a different sword, and you would be the genuine article," Caitlin said, still waiting for Allen to comply. "Turn around!"
Carlota knocked on the door to room thirteen. Perhaps checking in on the pair would interfere in the whole 'lovey-dovey' portion of their evening, but maintaining her vow of dispassion as a host was impossible. Barry and Caitlin were cuter than two puppy dogs licking each other's faces under a rainbow.
A gentle knock at the door. "Hello in there, it's Carlota. Mind if I drop in?"
"Come in." Barry's muffled voice called out.
The dwarf stepped in with an uncontrollably bright smile. They weren't cuddled up next to once another just yet, but young love needed time to grow. "I got a night gown for me most favorite princess in all the land. Can I getcha' anythin' else? Midnight snack? Some mead, perhaps?"
"That's quite alright, Mrs. O'Doerery. I think we're both fine." The Princess said, walking up an accepting her gift.
"Aw, thank you, Miss Snow. I hope you two don't mind the livin' arrangements. I promise you this is the best bed in the whole dang country. We wanted the very best for the Princess of Amorado and our most favorite knight in the whole world." Carlota made her way out to get to some sleep of her own. Having seen fit to the comfort of her treasured guests, she found her husband reading on his side of their over-sized bed after wishing Barry and Caitlin a lovely night of rest.
"How ya' think we doin' so far?" He asked.
Carlota plopped into her equally massive bed. "Pretty good, if I do say so meself'," She pulled the covers over her body. "We only gettin' a few hours a rest."
Her husband looked over from the book he was reading. "Why in the name of our King we doin' that?"
"Because," She continued. "We gonna make a big ol' meal for the two ah' them. They're our guests, and they deserved it."
"Can't we just give em' a couple snacks and send em' on their way? Why we gotta give em' a whole meal?"
Beginning to become frustrated with Carlot's objections, she turned over to face him. "Do you wanna have dah' Princess tell her father we sent her home with just a' couple a' snacks? When the two of em' get married, ya' think King Benjamin's gonna call us up to cater if we treated his daughter like she was some common underling?"
There was no retort. "Alright. Is' a good thing I love the two of em' so much, otherwise I'd be catchin' up on me damn sleep. Speakin' ah which', yah' think it was a bad idea putin' Barry n'the Princess together in the same bed like we did?" Her husband asked.
"You know I love Barry like he was me' own, but the boy ain't never gonna confess his love for her without a little push." She began.
"Ya think so?" He asked.
"Course. He's always been a tad shy, 'specially around pretty ladies. And you know he's had a case a tha' cold kindopas for her since they was nothin' but children."
"I know dat', just wonderin' if the Princess'll be receptive to him." Carlot said.
"Are you daft? We prolly gonna get a special thanks from the King for findin' his next prince. The way she was lookin' at him, that gurl' is as dumb for him as he is for her. Bet this whole place on it."
Carlot took off his glasses and put his book down. "You don't think Barry will do nothin' stupid? You know I love the whole family, but I ain't lookin' to get me head severed for treason against the kingd-"
"Barry's the biggest sweetheart a mortal soul ever saw, but if I hear that he gave that lass any bit a' trouble, if he do the tiniest thing she don't like, may the Creator take his hands. If he's any less than a perfect gentleman, I'll chop em' off meself."
With her swift reflexes, she was out of her thief's garb and in the O'Doerery's night gown before that slovenly dullard Allen knew what was what. Safe from his curious eyes, she slipped beneath the covers and shuffled towards her edge of the bed, quietly praising the dwarves for their kindness and taste in mattresses. Whatever material made up the bulk of its interior, she desperately needed as much as allowed. Her drained body freely sunk into the warm embrace of the bed.
"Is it safe to turn around?" Barry asked.
A moment passed. Her comfort took priority over his, after all. "Yes."
"Good night, Caitlin." She heard him ask once he was settled in.
That was unexpected. What was he hoping to get out of telling her to have a good night? What was wrong with him? The Princess mulled over how to respond. Was it the start to another of their snarky exchanges, or a genuine wish for her happiness?
"Good night..." She considered adding his last name to her response, but thought better of it. Perhaps her optimism was misplaced, but part of her wanted to believe in his honor as a knight.
Barry assumed it to be a seventy-thirty division in her favor and he didn't want to test her vowing to stick a blade in his throat if he so much as motioned inappropriately towards her. Where Caitlin hid the blade in her evening wear courteously provided by the O'Doerery's other side business was a mystery he had no intention of trying to solve. Despite the threat of a sudden and violent death looming just across the bed, the Princess was safe, and he was on his way to a deserved rest. After toiling through the dangers of life and putting up with the Princess' ceaseless onslaught of insults and putdowns, one couldn't ask for much more. There was also the fact that the woman of his dreams was willingly sleeping in the same bed with him. Niles would almost certainly chastise him for not immediately taking things further, but Barry held no such desires. Even if Caitlin Snow wasn't a woman of great sophistication, charm and intelligence, that component of the relationship needed time to develop. For now, he was simply grateful for her company.
Some minutes later, his peaceful existence was once again interrupted.
"Hey." A whisper he opted to ignore. If the Princess wanted something, it could wait until morning.
"Hey!" A slightly louder whisper and a finger tapping him several times on the shoulder followed.
There was no getting out of this one. Barry slowly turned over to find the Princess looking at him with her usual intensity. "What?"
"It's bloody freezing in here. Is there no form of temperature control in this place?" Caitlin said.
"What do you suppose I should do?" Barry asked, even though it really was rather cold. "Force a pair of dwarves to upend-"
"No, no, that's not what I meant, don't be obtuse, just..." Eye contact was lost. "If you tell anyone about this, I will have you executed at dawn for the whole Kingdom to see."
"And what did you have in mind?" He was smirking, but he genuinely had no idea what she was going to ask.
Caitlin Snow looked as if she to shortly undergo anesthetic free-teeth removal in the middle of the most horrible busking competition ever performed.
"I suppose it wouldn't be so awful if you...put your arms around me. So we could huddle up for warmth. And nothing else.
The smirk blossomed into an ear-to-ear smile. "For you, my Princess? Anything."
The Princess scooched over, so Barry put an arm around her the back of her neck. Despite his outwardly bold expression, he felt more than a bit apprehensive about holding Caitlin, let alone touching her. Once she was done adjusting herself, she settled her head on his shoulder, forcing him to realize that she was extremely warm and had a curiously Earthly smell to her. Not like dirt or something repulsive, but the intensely familiar smell of blossoming flowers and the serenity of nature. Lilacs. Barry's chest tightened and he wondered if she could feel his heart go thumpathumpathumpa.
"I'm not made of glass, Allen."
He looked at her. "Is everything alright?"
She rolled her eyes. "I give you permission to actually hold me, not what you're doing right now, whatever it is."
Caitlin had a point; his fingers were barely touching her frame, as if the slightest misstep on his part would shatter her. To try and remedy her discomfort, he more fully wrapped his arm around her, delicately pulling her closer to him.
"Is this better?" He asked, his voice not being nearly as steady as he hoped.
"Better."
Barry was open to the possibility that this was all some vision or an extremely elaborate hallucination. Journeying across the land with the woman of his dreams was one thing, but having her curled up next to him in bed was something he never would've considered in his most lavish, far-flung fantasies. He felt compelled to completely pull her next to him, to completely break the border separating their bodies, but he lacked the temerity to test his supply of luck. The woman he fell in love with all those years ago was practically cuddling with him as they both fell asleep. If he wasn't so mortally terrified of overstepping his boundaries and, to a lesser extent, being murdered, he'd be ecstatic.
Still, there was something exceptionally endearing about having the ferocious, tough-as-steel warrior princess curled up next to him in her evening gown. One didn't need precognitive abilities to determine that she preferred to keep people at arm's length, so he considered it something of a milestone to have reached this side of her. Sure, she dispensed insults like they were linked to some sort of plague, but he got the sense she enjoyed his company, at least marginally more so than she would ever willingly admit.
"If you don't mind my asking, Princess," Barry said. "Did you change your hair?"
"Yes," She said. "You're very observant."
He smiled. "May I ask why?"
Caitlin inhaled deeply, gently draping an arm over Barry's side. "It's more difficult to grab if it's short and the darker color helps me blend in at night. I never really liked long hair, I had it mostly to appease my mother. You know how she gets, delegate this and look good for ceremonies that. It's all rather dreadful."
That certainly made sense. Barry suspected the princess possessed an ambivalent-to-hostile relationship with being perceived as 'girly', but the role demanded certain things from her with little room for compromise. Although chopped short and black as raven's feathers was the superior option when it came to combating the forces of evil, he was having trouble deciding which he preferred from an aesthetic perspective. Both made her look positively angelic, and she would doubtless look similarly wondrous in any styling. Caitlin could be in a full set of chain-mail armor covered in Golog blood and still look fantastic. If he were a more confident man, he'd most likely tell her that. If he couldn't confess that he found her attractive in certain respects, he'd never be able to go beyond that.
"You don't need my permission to ask a question," Caitlin said, clearly on her way to the land of dreams. "And you don't need to refer to me as Princess."
"Oh," Barry said. "Okay. Whatever you desire."
Caitlin was just so damn cute, even more so when she was tired. She was warm, smelled nice, and that sleepy voice of hers just made him want to squeeze her tight and never relent. If he were an utterly senseless man, he'd definitely tell her that. The first comment might get him a stern look because it could conceivably be taken as a compliment to her skill as a warrior, but telling a ferocious warrior princess she was adorable would certainly earn him a dagger to the chest.
"I think you look beautiful in either hairstyle."
A chill worthy of the Old Guardsmen of Winter's Calling overtook Barry's body and his heart ceased to function for a few moments as he prepared for a well deserved demise.
"I-I'm sorry, Caitlin," He pleaded for mercy. "I don't know why I said that. I mean, not to imply you don't look angelic in either style, you could wear your hair any way you want and look fantastic, I was just suggesting that you-uh, that you." When no form of swift vengeance arrived, he shut up. Amazingly, he received no form of response beyond the gentle rhythm of her breathing and the movement of her chest. Barry closed his eyes and let his head fall on the pillow, grateful his companion slept through the confession.
Several minutes later, once she was certain Allen was asleep, Caitlin looked up at him, smiling.
