Summary: Movieverse, post twitches II, Aron/Miranda, angst, one-shot.
Disclaimer: I do not own this. If I did, it would not be a kid's movie. This is not a kid's story. I have not read the books and do not intend to because I like messing with the movie characters. The books may well be better than the movies, but since it's the movies' faults and inaccuracies that inspire my subplots… being too correct would destroy my material.
Habit
The quiet stifles the room, dry, cold, and awkward. The room they had shared for little more than a year seems drafty and overlarge, although perhaps that comes as a result of his recent transformation.
Perhaps she notices the cold too, for her nightgown is heavier than he has come to expect, although after twenty-one years of separation he supposes he should not assume anything. The distance of half the room spanning between them seems too far away, and he searches for some excuse to close the distance.
"Do you still like tea?" He asks, gesturing to the set on the small table. "Mint?"
"Yes." She answers, favoring him with a smile.
He pours for both of them and watches her drink, conscious of the light reflecting from the wedding ring that declares them still married, reminding himself that she had agreed to that fact.
Oppressive silence drags. They sit together on the bed, and try not to look at each other.
"There's one thing I don't understand." He finally ventures. "Why concentrate magic to the royal family and remove it from everyone else. That's not how I remember you."
She stares at her empty cup. "It wasn't my idea. At the time…. Thantos was the de facto ruler and….I thought it would be safer not to argue with him."
She looks so lost that he feels he ought to apologize, though he's not sure for what. He abruptly shifts his weight to face her and gestures with his free hand… "Miranda I…"
To his shock, she starts and defensively throws a hand in front her face.
He waits a moment. "Miranda?"
"Sorry" she answers, forcing her hands to her knees, with visible effort, "Force of habit."
"He hit you?" He asks, at once horrified, furious, and compassionate.
She moves her head in a barely perceptible nod.
"Miranda," He whispers gently, leaning towards her, and slowly winding an arm around her shoulders. She doesn't move away, and he counts it as a good sign. "I'd die before I'd hurt you like that."
"I know." She replies. She rests her head lightly against his chest. He lightly rubs her tense back, and embraces her for a small eternity.
"I love you Miranda." He murmurs as he holds her.
She pulls back a little to look him in the face, "I love you Aron," she tells him. The fear didn't leave her eyes, though.