So much happening this chapter! I also love when you all can guess where I'm going in the reviews, though I'm unsure if that makes me a good or bad author, haha. Enjoy, please!

When Soul even refused to show up to dinner, Maka had made up her mind. She waited until it was pitch black, donned her riding clothes, and snuck out to the courtyard to climb the wall to his bedroom window. It took her even less time than the first since she wasn't thinking sweet, soothing thoughts but the contemplating the agitated screaming she was about to let loose. When she slipped into the window, he was still awake, red eyes glaring at her from the darkness.

"Get out," Soul murmured. "Please."

Maka wiped her hands on her pants before sighing, "I think somehow you've mistakenly come to the conclusion that now that we're betrothed, you can order me around."

Soul sat up in the bed, his hands clenched into fists in the sheets. "Maka-"

She walked closer to the bed, stopping at his side. "You need to purge it from your mind. Not to mention, when we're married that doesn't change either. So you can suggest I leave, but I'm not going to."

He threw his eyes to the sheets, a withering sigh from his mouth. "Talking about this is pointless. You can't deny that somehow, it transferred to you. I saw the black blood on your lips!"

"I wasn't going to deny it," Maka answered softly. "It happened. I don't think I feel it in me anymore, but it is something to be careful of. It was an accident, though, and can be easily explained by Medusa showing up. You took water from that girl, and while I don't know many of your servants, I don't recognize her. We both drank it and I'm almost sure it must have been polluted with one of Medusa's potions. Without those mixtures, you have been-"

"No," Soul groaned. "No, Maka. It's not something to be careful of, it's a risk we shouldn't be taking. The betrothal, it's off. I won't marry you if-"

The words were cut off by the resounding crack of her hand connecting with his cheek, sending his neck snapping to one side. "How dare you," hissed from her mouth.

He brought his completely bewildered eyes back to her. "Maka, I want to keep you safe."

"Do I have to slap you again?" she threatened. "You made a promise to me!"

"Maka, I-"

He was sure her hand was coming back for another violent impact but instead it was to press his cheeks between both of them, holding his head steady so she could stare in his eyes. "You are breaking a promise and you are being a coward, and that is most certainly not you, so snap out of it or I will slap you again."

Soul grabbed her hands, bringing them from his face to clutch them tightly in his. "Think about it, Maka. If it could pass that easily, just from a touch, potion or no, what could happen when we have a child? You've already made your deal that we have to so there's no avoiding it, but imagine passing this on to them? Or worse, what if it's not a child at all but a monster that hurts you, tears you apart like my nightmare come true? I won't let that happen to you."

"So you'd gutlessly just marry a different girl and let that happen to her? Better I live and some throw-away courtesan suffers and dies?" Maka delivered that with a strange calm, making the words that much more chilling. "Because you must realize that not marrying me means that you'd have to marry someone else. Did all your thinking today not bring you to that conclusion?"

"No," he murmured softly, his hands squeezing until her fingers ached. "But you have to get-"

"I know, if your concern wasn't so stupid it would be sweet," Maka huffed out a sigh. "But if it's you and me, we're capable of dealing with whatever it will be. If it's a normal child, one tainted with the blood, or some terrifying alternative, we can be strong enough as long as we're together. Don't risk other people and other things just because you're scared for me."

"Aren't you scared though?" He forced her closer, pulling her to sit on the bed with him as he drew his legs back to make room for her.

"Of course I am," she laughed. "Just maybe the next thing you'll finally remember is that even though we're scared, it doesn't negate our duty. Even if that includes bearing children and everything that comes along with that," she couldn't stop the end of the sentence from tightening her throat, bringing her voice up an octave. It didn't help that they were close again, Soul having moved her in his desperation until she was almost in his lap. To make matters even worse she watched as he realized it and instead of fumbling away one of his hands moved from hers and dared to run along her shoulder and threaten to touch the bare skin of her neck.

"I don't want to lose you," he murmured.

"I'm not going anywhere," she huffed but it was hard to hold onto the annoyance as his fingertips just brushed her neck. "Soul, I came here to argue with you, not-"

He laughed softly, "It's so weird that you can be so courageous in the face of the future, our duty, but my fingers make you tremble."

"We aren't married," she hissed as she grabbed his fingers away, stopping the temptation. Because how do I tell him that the trembling isn't fear?

He grinned as he released her, giving her space as he leaned back on the bed, his head hitting the pillow. "Not yet, at least."

"Even though you were about to throw it all away," Maka murmured as she got up the bed. "I should… I should go."

Soul was eyeing her, a forlorn sigh hitting his lips. "Stay. Please."

"Are you insane?" Maka hissed.

"Maybe that slap rattled my brains," he murmured as he turned his head to the wall, focusing on the stone. "But I still… I want to ask you to stay. I want you here, with me, and…"

She took a step back for safety, though she was unsure of what from. He wasn't grabbing at her, eyes not even stealing anything. Really, she needed saving from herself, her heart pounding at the idea but not in dread. Because I want what we had. We were so close, and the more I think about it, what would have happened that day or after it if I hadn't been so stupid. "Soul…"

"Please don't say my name like that, it makes it worse," he sighed. "Even with what I said I spent every other moment wishing for you. Wanting to stay with you but I thought that was the selfish decision. I know I was wrong. I'm sorry and… you should go, Maka. Just leave, please. We both have a long day tomorrow."

Why did a whimper want to come from her mouth at the idea? Leaving was safe, proper since this moment was honestly anything but. Two unsteady steps brought her back to the bedside, her breath catching as he turned his head to her again. Soul reached out his hand and without a clear reason in her mind, Maka intertwined her fingers with his. I wonder if he's remembering something, what this might make him think of. We held hands like this sometimes but never late at night, alone, and never- The thought was cut off by him pulling her forward, forcing her knees onto the bed and her free hand to press just above his shoulder to keep her balance.

"I thought we both agreed that you should go," his voice was more of a low growl than a whisper, not anger but something close to pain infusing his tone.

"I want…" Maka struggled for air as his other hand planted on her waist.

"You want?" he sounded just as breathless.

This is wrong. This is dangerous. This is putting all my work in jeopardy just so that I can… so that I can spend a few more minutes with him looking at me like that. "I want a better apology."

He grunted a laugh, "Slapping me didn't fix it?"

"No," she shook her head sharply. "You were about to…"

"Do the only thing you've ever begged me not to do," he sighed and released her hand. It left her off balance, but he caught her with that hand on her waist as the other climbed up her arm to her shoulder. Both worked in tandem, bringing her down on top of him as Maka gripped the sheets above his shoulders.

"Soul…" she gasped as her chest lit on fire. She just turned her head in time, letting her cheek rest next to his rather than the much more dangerous alternative. Even this was threatening to burst her heart out of her chest, especially as his lips grazed right next to her neck.

"I never should have left you. Not then, and I shouldn't be trying again now." His hot breath echoed against her ear as his hands gripped tighter, one digging into the flesh of her hip while the other pressed her shoulder close to his chest. "I don't think it was my choice, though, was it? Not then?"

"No," Maka warbled.

"I'm sorry. I got scared for you because I-"

"Don't," Maka cut him off quickly as her hands slipped to his shoulders to give her enough leverage to pull away from him. She got just enough that she could see his face when his hands resisted, holding her in place.

Soul's eyes were searching hers with that steady, analyzing face she'd seen a thousand times. "Alright, that's too much, huh?" Instantly his hands were at his side but he was still processing. "I hope that was enough of an apology."

"Yes," she murmured quickly as she climbed off him and struggled to her feet at the edge of the bed. Why didn't I want him to say it? Because he was going to, right? That's what he was going to say, that he loves me and I… why couldn't I bear to hear it? "I'll… be ready for tomorrow."

She heard the bed move and he grabbed her wrist lightly. "You can tell me if you're scared."

"I…" Maka shook her head quickly but couldn't bring her eyes to his. "What is there to be scared of?" She didn't let him answer the question - as if there was an answer - just simply rushed for the window, desperate for the night air, and to be free from her thoughts.

Picking your bride for love was a rare option and the traditional wedding ceremonies were built with this in mind. Customary dress was expected for both of them, Soul in a long red robe that his mother had embroidered by the most talented hands with fine gold thread. It was ludicrous, and he hated it, but it hadn't been worth arguing about because fighting it meant losing the opportunity to see her in the same. The cut of the dress was purposefully like the one from the temple, low to show off the decorative stain that was still bright on her chest, proof that she was pure and ready to wed.

Gone was the white, replaced with a red to match his, one that was supposed to bring luck and fortune but he felt all of his was already used just to be able to see her this way. Her hair was pulled up in an elaborately braided bun, but in it she had stuck the same hairpin, an action that stirred that same feeling of hope in him. But how long had he spent last night thinking about and dissecting her 'Don't' and how adamantly she'd fallen into but then avoided his touch? Again, he tried to will his mind to remember that it was Marie's warning that had started it, but something seemed to be urging it on in Maka's heart. Even looking at her now, those emerald eyes softly playing over his face, he was sure she was locking something away.

The ceremony was nothing more than a pledge of an antiquated list of demands a husband should make of a wife and then the opposite. There was nothing special, nothing singular about it as they were just words that hundreds of other couples had spoken before them. It was designed to be a spectacle, that was all, with his parents and dignitaries and all other random court goers to watch. That was why as the last words drifted from the officiant's mouth, just before they were supposed to turn, Soul lifted her hand in his. There were no gloves to dissuade him and the idea that she could see this all as ceremony urged him so strongly to brush her knuckles to his lips as he bowed his head to her.

Those were not soft murmurs that filled the room but a ruckus of unexpecting voices, so many whispers in the room that the sound was a steady hum. It didn't matter to Soul, all of his care stolen away by the slow blossom of her smile as he raised his head. It wasn't as radiant as he knew it could be, still tempered by fear and nerves all rolled into one, but she held his eyes like she used to and refused to look away. And there at the altar, he made a final promise in his mind: If you won't let me tell you, then I'll at least show you the best that I can.

It was back to the status quo, leading her back down the aisle to cheers. He knew he'd only have a few moments as they transitioned to the hall which was to be their final resting place for the entirety of what was supposed be a banquet but would most likely end up being a continual line of kissing ass. Again, these were not built for romance but instead a way to placate dignitaries with a show. He stopped her on the cusp of the hall, his hand softly coming to her cheek. "I'll be right back."

Maka had been half lost in the wonder of letting his hand sit on her cheek when she snapped back to reality. "What?"

"I swear, just a few minutes." She tried to grab his hand but Soul was too quick, turning back in the hallway to catch Black Star. He pulled him close, his lips practically to his ear as he listed out the orders he had perfected ever since his lips touched her hand. When he pulled away, Black Star only offered him a sly smile and a salute before trotting on his way.

"Soul," Maka snapped as he finally got back to her side.

"You can yell at me later," he chuckled. "But we're overdue."

"Thanks to someone needing to whisper to his best friend. What are you up to?" Maka raised an eyebrow.

"Trust me." He let out one more laugh before he led her into the hall which had been ostentatiously decorated with more flowers than the spring meadows he used to pretend to begrudgingly follow her through. She was still eyeing him skeptically as he led her to her seat, waiting for her to get comfortable before he even bothered to follow suit.

As Soul sat, Maka leaned in with her lips next to his ear, "It better not be anything-"

"You really are stubborn," he cut her off with a laugh.

She huffed, ready to continue but Soul was thankfully saved by the first set of well-wishers in a line that spanned the entirety of the hall and beyond it. And while there had been a few times before and would be many times after, in that instant Soul was endlessly glad that he'd married her, finding Maka taking away all the need for his voice as she spun through 'thank you's and all other sorts of pleasantries. It seemed effortless for her, and all he was required to do was smile and nod at the correct intervals, never receiving a glare or any admonishment from her in his silence.

Soul let his fingers creep under the table, the tips just caressing the silky fabric of her dress on her thigh. A little color brushed her cheeks and her hand swiftly moved to his. Thankfully, instead of batting his hand away, she clutched it, keeping him from anything more daring but at least giving him a sense of comfort that brought back with it old memories. I used to hold her hand every chance I got. Sometimes it would take coaxing, a little battle of fingers, but in the end, she would hold onto me tighter and refuse to let go. Maybe that's her, scared to have what she wants but when she gets it… He spent the rest of the night hoping he was right.

Maka's hands were tightly wound into the cinch of her gown, her fingers starting to tingle from the lack of circulation as her grip was all that was keeping her dress together for the moment. Soul had once again excused himself quickly when they had gotten back to the room, another unexpected and anxiety-producing interruption. But what is he interrupting? He led you here calm as could be, for once his hands not needy and searching but easy as I clutched at his elbow. And now…

The pins and needles were too much and Maka finally let the tie go, feeling the fabric that was already so tenuously clinging to her shoulders keep slipping. She only caught it at her breasts, feeling it puddle down her back and exposing more skin to the surprising coolness in the room. The temperature didn't matter, her skin lightly up especially as the door opened again, Soul striding in with strange confidence until he caught sight of her. His throat bobbed comically with a swallow and Maka almost thought she'd be able to laugh, but as soon as he took another step forward the feeling froze in her chest.

Even though Soul was moving in her direction, he sidestepped her at the last minute, moving to the trunk that had been placed at the foot of the bed. He opened the lid and shuffled through for a moment before pulling out a silken robe in the most luscious lilac color. Without any words to accompany it, Soul held it out behind her. Her fingers still ached as she released the tense hold on the fabric, now letting the rest of her gown fall to the ground as she slipped her arms into the robe.

Her breath was stolen away as his hand drifted along the back of her neck, pulling her hair out of the collar and letting it settle on her back. Maka wanted to question him especially as his eyes just stared intently at her face when she turned her head. Instead, his voice started, low and gruff as if he was holding in air. "I had them draw a bath for you. And, well, a few other things, but… I hate to ask you for this, but I need a little of your blood."

"My what?"

This was when his eyes dipped away, a pained smile on his face, "Like Marie said, they expect, well… a sign that we…"

"Oh," Maka murmured.

"Mine won't work, it'll be black and… it doesn't have to be much, just a few drops on the sheets."

"Then we're…" Maka pressed a hand to her face, trying to cage the trembling in her voice before continuing. "We're going to fake it?"

"For tonight," he murmured. "You… you must be tired and… well, I guess what I'm saying is I'm not making a decision. It's what you want, and I guess I just assumed…"

Air leaked slow and unsteadily from her lips. What do I want? Last night it was wrong but now we're married and I have to produce an heir and I took that damn potion and… She tipped her eyes to him, knowing the desperation and confusion that was there and wondering if his eyes would mirror it. Instead, there was a bit of nervousness but something else she couldn't identify. It was a new softness, something that maybe she'd seen before but had known she'd spent the night wondering about. "Thank you."

Soul gave her one more smile before moving towards the desk and picking up a canister, a little gauze, and a small penknife. "Here. Instead of your hand, try your foot. Less chance they'll ask questions."

"You really thought about this," Maka murmured as she took the knife from him before letting a small laugh tumble from her lips. "Actually, what am I saying, you overthink everything. I guess that hasn't changed."

"Not much has." His hand had lingered near hers and his fingertips brushed her wrist before he brought them back to tightly holding the canister. "Just make sure you're leaving it on the right place on the sheets. Like you've been laying there."

"Right," she nodded with surety she didn't necessarily have. Maka moved to the bed, laying down to carefully measure the right distance and for a moment she could picture it, him hovering over her with his chest firmly pressed to hers just like the night before. She flushed and sat up quickly. It would be a regrettable spot, something that would remind her with a pinprick of pain for the next few days, but she reached the penknife between the webbing of her last two toes and sliced. She let the blood well up until there was enough and she dabbed it to the sheets. "Is this enough?"

"Looks fine," he said quickly before offering her the gauze. She took it and slid it between her toes. He then offered her a hand and pulled her off the bed before taking it back to open the canister.

"What's that?" Maka tried to peer over his shoulder.

"Uh," his voice wanted to fade away as he cleared his throat. "Technically, glue, but when it dries they probably won't be able to tell the difference between that and… you know."

This was something Maka could actually giggle at and she let it free her for just a moment.

"Please don't ask how I know," he grumbled.

"I thought you weren't supposed to keep secrets from your wife," the words were a carefree tease but they came with a flutter in her stomach especially when the color started to stain his cheeks.

Soul was silent, just dipping his finger into the canister and splattering it over the red on the sheets. "There." He closed the lid and tucked it under the mattress before rubbing his hands together, the residual glue drying and flaking away. "Now we just have to wait."

"For what?" Maka sat back on the bed away from their artwork, staring up at him as she played with the tip of gauze between her toes.

"Pretty sure it's embarrassing if it's over that quickly," he laughed roughly.

"Oh," Maka produced a short laugh to punctuate.

He shuffled his feet for a moment. "Do you mind if I get changed?"

"No," the word blurted from her mouth.

Soul walked over to the bureau, pulling out new pants and a shirt even though his normal was never to wear one to bed. But tonight's about her comfort. Seeing me like that might… He sighed as he started the task of unbuttoning the absurdly long robe with his back to her.

"I forgot to ask you," Maka started slowly but the ease was building back into her voice. "Did your wound actually reopen yesterday?"

Soul's fingers quickened as he debated the question in his head. What good does lying do? But telling her the truth… He let a sick laugh come from his mouth. It's not as if she can leave now. She's trapped whether she knows the ugly truth or not. "If I lose control, it leaks but closes back up quickly. You can't tell today." He shrugged the robe off his shoulders and let it flutter to the floor, his eyes tempted to look to verify his claims but he focused instead on dropping his pants and reaching for the new ones.

There was a pause long enough for him to get his bottom half covered, just reaching his fingers for the new shirt. "Can I see it?"

Soul froze, his fingers clutching tightly into the fabric. "You're sure?"

"It can't be worse than… when I saw it happen," she murmured.

He was dying to ask the question, to tear all the information he could from her on that moment but he resisted. I should remember that on my own. That already sounded so painful for her to say, so making her relive that day more than she's about to right now… I can't be that horrible. Soul turned, relieved to see her staring intently at her hands in her lap rather than waiting for him. He needed a few more breaths before he could even hope to be able to look in her eyes. Those breaths were pulled in achingly slow as he moved back to the bed, taking a seat next to her.

As the bed creaked beneath his weight, Maka moved her eyes to his chest. Her breath caught in her throat no matter how much she willed it otherwise. Maybe it's not worse, but it's the same. Because looking at it now reminds me, makes me know how foolish I was, how foolish he was. Her fingers quivered in the air between them before barely touching the start of the scar next to the crease of his armpit. This is the price you pay. This is what you earn when you-

"I'm sorry," he muttered as he grabbed her hand and pressed it into the flesh.

That broke the spell in her mind, causing her eyes to flutter up to his. "What?"

"When you look at it, it hurts you. So, I'm sorry," he repeated with a blankness to his face that Maka knew too well. This was his usual ploy, direct words while hiding his real feelings underneath a mask. Maybe this was the part that she had hoped wouldn't come back to him.

"You think that's your fault?" she pressed.

"Nobody else's it could be," he muttered.

It's mine, she wanted to scream. "You still don't remember anything from that day?"

Soul shook his head slowly, "It's the cloudiest. Could be that's still me getting back to normal but I'm thinking that maybe a part of me doesn't want to remember." He pulled her hand away and placed it gently back in her lap. "I think we took enough time."

"Alright…" Maka's eyes fell to her fingers, her mind lingering over the wonderful feeling of his skin under them tempered by the despair of her memories. She was sure nothing could break her from the pain of those thoughts, but as his hand grasped at her chin, holding her in place so that his lips could brush her cheek, everything in the rest of the world faded away.

It was gone as quickly as it came, but the residuals of it would linger on her for the rest of the night especially as he did nothing but make her heart race further as he whispered, "Don't think about it right now. When I remember, we'll talk but before then, don't. I know you said I can't order you to do anything but I think I am. Tonight, you're just supposed to be happy. So don't." She watched him swallow, hesitate, and then stand quickly.

Without another glance at her, he swiftly moved for the door, disappearing again. Attendants flooded in, gently plucking her from the bed so that it could be cleaned, the proper stares and whispers garnered by the art they'd left on the sheets. The spell only broke when she felt Liz's soft touch on her arm and her whisper next to her ear. "Come on. Your sweet prince has a few things planned for you."

Souls orders, whispered in Black Star's ear, had been as follows:

First, draw her a bath. She'd taken a liking to jasmine, that was obvious from the gorgeous way it filled the room when she was near, but honeysuckle should be gathered from the forest to toss amongst it.

Then, go to the library and grab a few books. There should be poetry, not necessarily the sappy romance but nothing epic and long. Also, a few history texts since that was what he remembered her reading the most.

Next, have chamomile tea ready after her soak. Make sure it has a dollop of honey in it or she won't drink it.

Finally, leave her the following note: If you need me, I'll be in the music room.

He should have known Black Star would forget the note, but it was just as well since his handwriting was even worse.