Playing with fire is a bad idea. These two, I swear ... they're ridiculous. Ridiculously cute, too, I'll admit. I had fun writing this. Ravio and Hilda's relationship is mostly implied, as they don't get a lot of romantic screentime, so to speak, but they're definitely romantic when they do. The sexual tension - it's bad. Can you blame them? They have to keep up appearances, and though no-one would really care, Lorule comes first. Always.


The lock clicked. Ravio turned, a smirk playing on his lips, and studied her. His queen. Her eyes were wide, but soft, and she let the blanket fall as he took a step closer. Privacy. Permission to do whatever he felt in the mood for. Within reason. Another step; she didn't move. Holding his gaze. He drew her in, fingers trailing over her bare shoulder, up the side of her neck, tangling in her hair. Soft as always.

Like silk under his touch. She took care of it. Nose pressed to the crook of her neck, he inhaled the smell of her skin, sweet enough to make his mouth water. Apple and blueberry, with a hint of brown sugar. A pleased hum escaped him before he could stop it, and he chuckled. Playing games with a fire mage was never a good idea. Then again, Hilda had always enjoyed watching things burn. Perhaps too much.

He traced the tip of her ear, breath ghosting past sensitive flesh, all too aware of the shudder that danced down her spine. The thing with fire was that if you left it long enough, it just sat there. Smouldering away. Dangerous in the right conditions, especially if you had a fascination with starting fires. Oh, the tension was delicious – you could cut it, and it'd probably explode upon contact. Oops.

Adjusting the shoulder of her chemise, he pulled it back up and winked. Stepping back, he suppressed a snicker at the look of disappointment on her face and turned away. Walking over to the fireplace, he lit it with a flick of his fingers, and hummed softly as he reached for the tea. Might as well leave her simmer for a while. It gave him more opportunity to tease her. Flirting never hurt either. Not like this. No way.

"Tea?" he queried, quirking a brow. "You look like you could use a drink, and, well, I'm awake now. Might as well stay awake for a while longer. See what happens. We'll be sleeping in, anyway. What's the harm? C'mon, spitfire. I think you can forgive me. I've slowly been going crazy ever since that night you ordered me to stay, and I don't care. I really don't. They can all have their celebration, I won't be there."

"Tea would be great. I could still use something stronger, though I know I'm not going to get it," she replied, huffing in annoyance as she sat down in one of the armchairs. "I hate you, you know that? You can't just do something like that and walk away. It's been so long since we had any decent time alone, and when we do, you up and decide to make my head spin. Why? That's not playing fair, Ravio."

He laughed. "You don't hate me, Hilda. You just hate what I can do to you. Besides, I don't have to play fair. That's not any fun. You have fun provoking me, I retaliate. I just so happen to retaliate in a manner that has you climbing the walls. Sure, you could go to bed, but that's boring. And you're not boring. Not by a mile. I know you better than anyone else. 'Boring' isn't a word I'd use to describe you. Far from it."

Shrugging off his tunic and undershirt, he groaned softly as he stretched, unable to hide a slight wince. He'd been sitting down too long, and he regretted it. He could feel her eyes snap to him, her gaze slowly trailing down his bare torso and hummed innocently as she licked her lips. No, scratch that. He didn't regret it. She liked what she saw, and she'd like it even more when he walked out of the bathroom.

He hadn't showered yet, after all, and he knew as well as she did that water made him look good. Why else would he encourage her spying habits in the summer? It was always more fun to pretend he didn't have an audience when he went swimming. Taking his own cup of tea when it was ready, he reclined in the armchair, legs draped over the arm, and sighed as he took a sip. Mm, that was better. Much better.

Pleasant, even. The fire was crackling in the hearth, and it was nice and all, but that wasn't what either of them wanted. He knew that. She wanted to be loved. She'd hardly taken her eyes off him since he'd locked the door, and the unspoken longing left the air taught. Right now, they were simply lovers. Denied ones. The heat was tantalizing. It drove him crazy, having her so close. Tore at his self-control.

Two could play that game, and he swore under his breath as he downed the rest of his tea. Why did it have to be winter? He could handle his body temperature, but fire craved fuel, and his craving for apples was blindsiding. She smelled like them, and the memory made his mouth water – she was making him hungry, and it was far too late to sneak down to the kitchens. There weren't any down there, anyway.

Her noise of surprise as he hauled her up made him chuckle, and he grinned as he yanked her in close. This was going to be fun. "You're making me hungry," he whispered in her ear. "I'd tell you to stop, but why would I? I know, I know, you're Queen and all that, but you really should stop playing with fire. You could get burned. Badly. They weren't lying, by the way. You shouldn't have pushed me into the river."

That did it. At the mention of the river, and what she'd done, she melted into him. The implications of what was happening weren't lost on either of them, but he had no intentions of crossing any lines that he wasn't supposed to. They were courting. Nothing more. Nothing less. Even a courtship had rules. Feeling a hand tangle in his hair, he smirked as fingertips skimmed down his chest, over that scar.

She had a fascination with his scars, and this one in particular. It wasn't a pretty thing, though he'd never tell her where he got it. He didn't want her to flip out. That was never good. Scooping her up, he carried her into his room and set her down on the bed. Joining her, he quirked a brow. Asking. Waiting. She pushed him backwards without a word. Well, at least it wasn't into a river this time. Thankfully.

She could be so commanding, but if anyone ever thought she threw her weight around, they were wrong. Especially not like this. She didn't want to. She enjoyed playing with fire far too much. And who was he to argue with her? But he knew her, so he rolled over and brought her with him, now pinning her to the bed. Her content sigh was all the permission he needed. She felt safe with him. It was an honour.

Their lips met, tender and sweet, and Ravio purred as relief rushed through him. This was what he'd needed. Not anything overtly passionate – though that was sure to happen – but just the allowance to touch her. Hold her. Love her. He was always gentle with her, knowing that on nights like this, he was responsible for keeping her in the present. Though his were rare, nightmares weren't fun at all. No.

His were terrifying. And staying with her, here, in private, certainly helped to keep his mind off them. Off everything but her. It was funny, really. They were a comfort to each other, and each kiss that followed the first said something. 'Thank you'. 'I missed you'. 'I love you'. 'Stay'. Fingers curling into her hair, he took a breath, and pressed a kiss to her neck, then another to her pulse. Her voice box. Her collarbone.

The inside of her wrist. Her palms, both of them, as if to wipe away the scars there. He wished he could. The freckles on her shoulders (they really did look like stars) visible because her chemise had slipped again. He did the same to the freckles on her nose and cheeks, smiling when she sneezed. She always did that, and she hated it. He couldn't see why. It was adorable. Innocent. Something only he knew.

Her lips, again, tongue sliding into her mouth. Coaxing her into responding. Eyes falling shut, he sighed. It was quiet all around them. The middle of the night, the sky outside a black velvet expanse hidden by a swathe of snow. They were all alone. Breaking the kiss to catch his breath, he pressed his forehead to hers and smiled. Gorgeous. So gorgeous. All his. Her lips were swollen, too, and she looked half asleep.

But he didn't care. It only endeared her to him more. Playing with a lock of her hair, he chuckled and pressed a tender kiss to her forehead, before shifting to sit on the edge of the bed. Pausing to press a hand to his lips – how lucky was he, courting the Queen of Lorule? – he shook his head and hummed as he felt fingers curl around his other wrist. She didn't want him to leave. She needn't worry; he wasn't.

"I'm just going to go shower," he informed her, quirking a brow. "That's all. Don't worry, I'm not leaving you here all by yourself. Calm down, love. It's okay, I promise. As a bonus, you get to cuddle up to someone who's both warm and smells good too. I can't crawl into bed next to you like this, Hilda. I have better manners than that. I'm sure your mother would be quite disappointed in me if I did. C'mon."

A slow blink. "You mean I don't get to see you in a towel, either? Boo. Leave it to our parents to spoil my chances of fun." A grin wormed it's way across her face. "My mother's dead, Ravio. What she doesn't know can't hurt her. I'm sure she has her hands full dealing with your mother. Judging by what the others say, she hasn't changed much from your memories of her. Pretty please? Don't make me beg."

He laughed, and gently pried himself free from her grasp. "Sorry, Hil. I can't. You know the Shades are far more perceptive than we often give them credit for. The answer's no, and that's final. Try to settle down, will you? It's late and we both need to sleep. I don't care if we're sleeping in, we need sleep regardless. Can't get anything done if we've both stayed up the whole night. We need the rest, y'know."

She pouted and stole one of his pillows instead of dignifying him with a reply. He could only shake his head as he shut the bathroom door behind him. She'd have made a linen cocoon by the time he emerged, he'd bet. Not quite, but she was propped up against the pillows, reading, and he chuckled as he caught sight of the book title. She was a musician; he was the son of a music teacher. Of course.

Music was their heritage. It was undeniable. He slipped under the covers, and with a small smile, gently plucked said book from her hands. Most people wouldn't consider a tome on the mechanics of Lorean spells interesting, but he wasn't most people. It was interesting and judging by the look she was currently giving him, he'd have a book thief to deal with later. Not that he minded. No. Why would he?

"What, is it not enough to steal my heart?" she demanded. The pillow didn't hurt; he didn't expect it to. "You have to steal what I'm reading, too? Ravio, I'm positive you have better manners than that. And could you stop being so distracting? Please? You're warm, you don't have to smell good too. You don't. Don't ask me why I like the smell of books, blackberries and winter tea so much, I just do. I blame you."

Typical. She would blame him, even if it wasn't his fault – it was, and they both knew it. He snorted and pulled her closer, thankful that she'd braided her hair. He didn't want to wake up to a face full of hair, no matter how good it smelled. He didn't give her a verbal response, merely settled down into his bed. This would be the best night's sleep he'd had for a long time, excluding the wakeup calls. Yes, two. Two.

And the second came in the form of the Captain of the Guard; not Link. Raven was prone to panic, and it drove him up a wall more than Claire did. Sometimes. Sometimes. This was one of those times. Growling to himself, he slipped through his quarters and pulled open the door just as Raven went to knock again. Quirking a brow, he took one look at the Captain and sighed. This would end with his queen awake.

He knew that. "Yes?" he asked, rubbing his eyes. "What is it, Captain? Please, I'd like to return to bed – I don't have much time before dawn, and if for nothing more than habit, I have to get up at five. What's so terribly wrong that you have to wake me up at three in the morning? I don't get enough sleep as it is, so when I relax, when I'm all nice and warm and peacefully asleep in my bed - you wake me up. Explain."

Raven cringed. It was undeniably an order. "W-well," he stammered, fingers drumming on his thigh, "The thing is, sir … how do I put this? The Queen, she isn't, she isn't – she isn't in her rooms. The door was open, and none of the guard have seen her since shortly after midnight, when one of the men said he saw her wandering through the halls with the Hyrulean General. We looked everywhere. The castle -"

"The castle in it's entirety," Claire piped up from down the hall, knowing amusement lacing her voice, "The kitchens, the library, the ballrooms, the music rooms. Even the courtyards and the stables. Just in case she was there. She wasn't. The Captain here even sent guards out into town to see if she'd slipped out without anyone knowing, but, that too, was a negative. So I thought you might know where she is."

"It was Lady Claire's idea, I swear it," Raven blurted, paling. "You're the Queen's Advisor, after all, and if anyone would know where she is, it'd be you. Forgive me if that's presumptuous, but it makes sense. It's known that the two of you are close – Claire, stop snickering; please. This is serious. The Queen is missing, and no-one's seen her in hours. If something's wrong, and she really is missing; it's not good."

He yawned, hiding it behind a hand. "Especially not considering that would leave me as King. I'm her only living relative, even if it's so distant that it hardly matters, it can be traced, and therefore is still a legitimate claim to the throne," Claire spluttered, coughing, but he ignored it, choosing instead to focus on Raven. "Anyway, she's not missing. I assure you. Would I be so calm about this if she was? Really?"

Claire snorted. "No, no, Chief, you wouldn't be. You'd be tearing your hair out, pacing, and insisting that you look for her yourself. It's not like she'd go up the mountain – it's winter, and anyone without the necessary magic to survive that environment, well, that's suicide, and she ought to know that. But if you're so terribly confident that the Queen's not missing, you know where she is. And where is that?"

His smile sharpened. Smirking, he stared down his head of staff and the Captain of the Guard, amusement glittering in his eyes as a soft curse floated out from behind him. Like he'd thought: this wouldn't end without her awake, and guess what? She was. Flicking his fingers, he quirked a brow in challenge. Neither of them said anything, and he snickered as his queen wrapped her arms around him.

"Go back to bed," he soothed, lips twitching. "I have this all under control, I promise. It's fine. You need the sleep more than I do. I'm not the one suffering from nightmares, after all. Go back to sleep, love. It's three in the morning, and you were up at midnight. Go back to bed. I'll join you soon – I just need to sort this out, and we can go back to sleep. We're still sleeping in, don't worry. We both need it. Y'know that."

"I can't sleep, Ravio. Not without you keeping me warm," she replied, voice muffled by a yawn. "And don't try telling me that you don't need sleep, either, you workaholic, because that's a load of keese shit. Now, would someone please tell me why Claire and the Captain of the Guard are standing outside your door at three in the morning? The entire castle's going to be throwing a party tomorrow as it is."

He grinned. Poor Raven looked ready to soil himself, face white as he recognized the owner of the voice, and Ravio clapped a hand over his mouth in a poor attempt to smother his laughter. Claire was beaming, mischief replaced by genuine delight, and he snorted. The castle staff would be throwing a celebration alright. Doubly so if Claire was involved. Just as long as the cooks left some cake, he was fine with it.

"Well," his head of staff quipped, "Now we know why you were so reluctant to get out of bed, Chief. And why you weren't panicking like the rest of us. She was with you. About time you stopped shying around the issue and sorted yourselves out. It was like watching a pair of teenagers try to deal with the fact that they have a crush on each other. Which is awkward, and, to be accurate, like pulling teeth."

He shrugged. "The details of what is going on between the Queen and myself is for us to know, and no-one else. I don't care what you think, it's a private matter, and still is. It's always been a private matter. No matter what it looked like, everything was under the surface. Let it be known that I was – and still am – courting her. This is by no means a new occurrence, and it hasn't been for two years. Now, is that all?"

It wasn't really a question. For all that he was still wary of what it meant for Hilda to claim him as her Prince Consort, she wouldn't have anyone else. And if that didn't sway him, the importance of protecting Lorule did. The Shades in the family never said it outright, sure, but that was the bottom line. Though it was up in the air as to why, Hyrule and Lorule were running on warped parallels. Dangerously.

It was like a blind man had tried to draw two straight lines.

"Yes," Frustration edged his queen's voice. "It is. Which means Claire and the Captain can get lost. My nights and my mornings are mine – if I have to lay down the law, so be it. I don't care if they find a closet and lock themselves inside. I don't care if the Captain decides he wants to pass out or get himself drunk in such way that he tumbles head over heels into a wine barrel. We're done here. Ravio, back to bed."

Well, orders were orders. Giving the pair a mocking salute, Ravio turned on his heel and followed his queen back into his quarters. The door shut with a quiet finality; peace once again stealing over moon-dappled rooms. The light softened everything in a way that sunlight never could, but he didn't mind. The night tempered them; the days tested them. They had each other's support – that was enough to get by.

When the sun slipped through the curtains the next morning, it ghosted over two sleeping figures. They were tangled together in that way only lovers could be; and not even the bustle of castle life could stir them from their dreams. Features softened in sleep, one could almost mistake peace for innocence, but neither of them were. They'd been through too much to be innocent. Between them, they carried the weight of a kingdom. If they cracked under pressure, they had help to get back up. Of course they did.


I know some people were uncomfortable with Ravio and Hilda being related, but there was a reason for it. Besides, the relation is so distant it doesn't really count except for one thing: like Ravio says, it can be traced. Right back to Vion and Agatha, and beyond them, their parents. That means that should anything happen to Hilda, Ravio's the only with any kind of claim - any right - to the throne. So he could step in if there was an emergency, for example.

Such as Hilda coming down with an illness. He wouldn't like it, but if push came to shove, he'd step in.

See you next time!