Chapter 10: Reunion

Paris refused to leave Wren. Many times throughout the night, maids and guards and official officials came to attempt to persuade him to retire to a room that had been prepared for him. He could come back at any time he wished, but he needed sleep. They begged him, "Milord, please, please milord," but he sent them all away. His focus was his lover. He had eyes only for Wren.

He had done this to her. He had been cruel and heartless and he would never, ever forgive himself…but he needed her to wake.

The sun traced down over the earth as night fell, then back up into the sky as morning seized hold. The light and shadows played over the room, but Paris was almost as still and unaware as Wren was. He hardly moved, barely breathed, refused sleep and food and comfort. At some point during the night, a servant came to tell him of the birth of the princess, and that Zelda and Link had named her Savannah. He thought Wren would smile at that, and the thought of her smiling made him smile slightly. But that was the only reaction to be had from him in a long, long while, and for a longer while to come.

Two days passed. When Paris finally passed out, falling over in his chair from the lack of sleep and the hunger, he was taken to his room and cared for around the clock by a newly hired valet and footman. He slept, regaining the sleep he had lost while tending Wren, for nearly a day, and when he woke, a maid practically shoved food down his mouth. When he discovered that he really was hungry, and the maid had rather rudely informed him that he was doing Lady Wren no good by starving himself, and that if she woke to see him looking thus, she would go back into her shocked stasis, he wolf down everything he could get his hands on.

Wren did not wake those two days.

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Link sat at his desk, reluctantly dealing with paperwork. He'd really rather be with Zelda and their daughter Savannah. The name had seem appropriate; hopefully the child would represent the end to troubles Wren had faced as Savannah.

But as the maid bearing the note left his study and he opened up the folded paper, his heart sank. It had been four days since the ball, since Wren had fallen into her unresponsive state. The note informed him, with stark, bare words, that Lady Wren was still impassive. He wadded the paper up in his fist and tossed it furiously into the fire, where it caught, curled, popped and hissed, melting into ashes. How much longer could this last? How much longer could she go without food before dying? Link had insisted on the maids attempting to get some water in her, and Abby had managed a spoonful or two of a thin broth, but nothing solid had passed Wren's lips in days.

Was Wren facing the last days of her life? Was this to be her end, with a remorseful Paris watching and waiting for his beloved to return to him?

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Paris walked through the gardens at the Palace without caring. He'd attempted to go back to stay with Wren when he'd finished eating that morning, but been stopped by the armed guards who stood watch at her door. The taller one had bleakly informed him that the Queen herself had instructed that Paris was not to enter for the day, both for his health and for Wren's. Paris had been about to take the issue up with the queen herself, but had stopped. Zelda's door was guarded, too, and with a sigh, he realized he didn't want to disturb Her Highness and the new princess.

So, here he was, walking around without aim, waiting for the day to be up so he could go back to his love. He was really starting to worry about her. There was a line between being in shock and truly no longer of this world. She had crossed the line and he frantically needed her to wake. Selfish though it was, he couldn't take it anymore. If Wren died like this, he would die, too, from the pain that had been steadily spreading through him.

He needed to be near her. Running, now with a reason to his life, he went back to her room, to find it still guarded. He wanted to lean against the door, just to be as close to her as he could, but the guards lowered their spears as soon as he drew near. He gave up with a sigh and sank down the wall opposite her door, staring blankly into nothingness.

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Wren lay still, hearing voices in her head, like she had for a long time. She had no idea of how long she had laid there, in and out of that strange trance, but voices swirled around inside her, her eyes blank and black, no aid at all.

"Aim again, Savannah."

"We want you to be our sister."

"Do you…do you ever wish you were Kokiri again?"

"Wren! NO!"

"Roarke…who screamed? Are they—they alright?"

"Wren…you screamed."

"Kill it. Kill it now."

"If you please me…I might be persuaded to keep you. Can you imagine? Me inside you…"

They mixed and overlapped each other, tormenting her. She felt some things, like the sticky slick of blood running down her arm, gentle hands exploring her body, a comforting hand on her shoulder. It was like she was seeing her life from different eyes, outside of herself. It terrified her that much more, but she couldn't close her eyes, and she couldn't look away.

Everything ricocheted back to Paris's slap. The sound of it as it echoed across the room, bouncing off the people and objects, the sting of it on her cheek, the humiliation that sprouted and grew in that second in her heart, the tears that sprang to her eyes, her mouth agape.

How long had she lain there, paralyzed with her fear and her misgivings? How weak was she to allow herself to do this?

She had to be strong, stronger than this. Hadn't Paris been here? That question burned through her, from her mind to the tips of her fingers, reaching the end of her nerve endings and she jumped slightly. It was enough to jilt her out of her prison of immobility.

She moved her arms, trying to push herself up. She was stiff and found that her body wasn't used to obeying, and didn't want to, but she managed to support herself on her arms. She was in her room in Hyrule Palace, alone.

She gulped, aware that she was very thirsty, then she caught a whiff of her breath and ran her tongue over her teeth, feeling the gunk. She needed a bath. Then she would dress in the best gown the queen had given her, as armor. She needed to find someone to have bath water drawn and brought to her room first though, so she gingerly pushed the covers off of her legs and moved them to the floor. She eased herself up, feeling the disuse of her limbs, but found that she was steady enough. She walked slowly toward the door, a decent ten feet from the corner of the bed. When she was close enough, she grasped the doorknob and leaned on it, swinging the door open.

Paris jerked his head up from where he'd been crumpled against the wall, facing her door.

Shock was in his eyes, then a bright smile spread and he sprang—with an efficiency Wren was supremely jealous of in that moment—to his feet, coming to her, his arms wide. He wrapped her up in his arms, like nothing had happened.

"Wren."

She sagged against him, feeling safe to again be in his arms. When he pulled away, she saw tears in his eyes. "Wren… I was so worried."

She noted that he called her Wren and not Savannah. It lifted her spirits. Savannah no longer existed.

"I…" she gulped, trying to get her throat wet so it would work. "I need a bath."

He drew in a deep breath with a nod and a smile. "Stay right here, I'll take care of it. I'll take care of everything." He turned and rushed off to see about the bath. Wren smiled slightly, then, because her legs were starting to fail her, went back to the bed to wait.

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"She's awake!" Paris burst into Link's study, guards trailing behind him. As soon as he skidded to a halt before the large desk Link sat behind, guards seized hold of him from all angles, one apologizing profusely to the King, as they dragged him away. Paris couldn't stop yelling that Wren was awake, and how she wanted a bath.

Link waved the guards off, and their leader bowed before hustling his comrades out. Link smiled as he listened to Paris inform him in great detail that Wren had awakened and requested a bath.

"You have, of course, set the servants about it, correct?" Link interrupted, just to make sure. With the excitement that Paris was in, he wasn't sure anything was getting done.

"Of course I did! But she's awake—!"

Link smiled. It was news that was long overdue. Zelda would be pleased. He was pleased.

"She's awake!" Paris screamed again.

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Wren sank low into the warm water and breathed a contented sigh. The water was bubbly and perfumed with lavender. The soaps that had been provided were delicate and fine.

Abby was coiling Wren's hair on top of her head, to be washed later, when the door opened with a small knock to admit Paris. He was smiling recklessly as he entered.

"You're excused," he said absentmindedly to Abby.

The maid fluttered her lashes at Paris. "'Tis hardly appropriate, milord."

"I know." Paris said with a wicked grin.

"It's alright, Abby. I'll be alright."

Abby glared at Pairs, clearly not having forgiven him for what he'd done to Wren, but left with a twitch of her skirts, the glare serving as her warning.

Paris came and knelt beside the tub, his eyes transfixed by Wren's. "How are you, love?"

She smiled, sinking further down into the water contentedly. "Hmm. Better."

He pulled a rose from behind him, where it had been tucked into his waistband, and held it out to her. She took it, the bathwater running down her hands, and put the delicate petals to her nose to smell.

"It's beautiful."

"Like you. I'm sorry, Wren. So very sorry."

She smiled at him, a full-blown smile now, her eyes a-twinkle. "I forgive you,"

He blinked. "You forgive me. Just like that?"

She nodded. "Um-hmm. Just like that."

"I knew there was a reason I loved you."

"Of course," she tiled her head. But then she grew serious. "My forgiveness was never your problem. Your own will be much harder to obtain."

He caught his breath. She had nailed him perfectly. He would probably never forgive himself for hurting her. The heartache he'd experienced had been justified, but not the pain he had caused her and others.

"Would you join me?"

He jerked his head to look at her again. "Excuse me?"

She scooted over in the tub. "Will you join me?" she repeated.

He smiled an wicked smile, stood and started stripping off his clothing, then, once naked, climbed in, pressing his body to hers, kissing her like the world would end if he let her go. Because his, quite literally, would.