A/N: Originally posted to my Tumblr as a warm-up.
It's all so subtle and soft. There's fluttering in his chest and stomach, as well as lightness in his head. It's beautiful, he thinks, but he knows it's not real. What's real is the cold and emptiness of death, not this dream that's offering him so many tiny pleasures he didn't get to experience in life.
In a huff, the Fairy Queen known throughout the land as Mercedes rolls over and rests her head on his chest. "You're mean," she says in reply to his snotty comment made only moments earlier, one that described her as an annoying gnat ignoring her responsibilities in order to bother him. His hand moves behind his head and he tries (and fails) to hold in a laugh.
"You're supposed to be running a country," he moves his other hand behind her head and marvels at the feeling of her silken hair. Her lips form a pout and she looks away.
"Matthew has everything handled right now. I can relax for five minutes."
Ingway grins and there's a moment where he's tempted to pull her up and give her another playful tease before kissing her, but he refrains and instead closes his eyes. "Whatever Her Majesty desires."
Maybe being allowed to sleep beneath her roots for all eternity isn't such a bad thing after all.