A/N: I'm cross-posting this fic originally published on AO3, largely for the purposes of sharing that another Red Queen fan and I are considering starting a RQ-focused Discord server, for chatting about the series and sharing fics, but also potentially for hosting events (like fic exchanges, challenges, etc). At the moment, we're just trying to gauge whether there's any interest in this, so if you would be interested, please let me know in the comments, or send me a PM to let me know!

He's dreading being home. He shouldn't be, and he knows it, but he can't help it. He's exhausted and he knows that Mare is probably still angry and he just doesn't have the energy to fight with her more. It was a stupid argument to begin with, borne of his own insecurities, and he had been foolish to let it come out, especially so close to leaving. And now Mare's had five days to let her anger simmer and sink in, and he's certain he's coming home to an even fiercer argument, when all he wants to do is collapse on their bed and sleep for hours.

He knows she loves him. He's not sure why he gets so caught up in who does what and who cares more, because he knows it's silly. Just because she doesn't express herself the same way he does, doesn't mean anything. And yet he can't help but get caught up in it sometimes, feeling like things are unbalanced between them. Her words needle at him every now and then, sticking in his mind like a thorn. In a perfect world, who would you have chosen? I can't answer that. Not because I don't want to, but because I simply can't. It isn't something I can ever solve. And it sows a seed of doubt and that's all he needs to spiral off into thoughts of how much he's sacrificed for her, how much she has cost him (even though he really doesn't begrudge most of it). And he just… in those moments, he feels like he loves her more than she loves him, and he can't let go of it.

When he gets to the airfield gate, there is no one there to meet him, and he thinks that's a pretty good indication of how angry Mare is still. There's a scheduled transport that will take him to the military sector of the city, where there are apartments that house some of Montfort's soldiers, and from there he can walk home – it isn't too far, maybe 20 minutes. He climbs onto the transport with the few other soldiers and officials who had been on the flight, taking a seat by himself.

The feeling of dread coils and grows in the pit of his stomach as he gets closer to their home. He mentally runs through different options and ways that he might head this off before it can even start. Should he just apologise and tell her he didn't mean any of it? Should he say they can talk about it later? Should he just pull her into bed with him and ignore whatever she says (about their fight)? He doesn't know. He feels like none of the options are good.

Cal stands in front of his own front door for a long moment, trying to summon the courage that comes so easily to him in battle. Typical, Calore. Raging armies are no problem, but you're terrified of your girlfriend. Though he thinks many people would agree with him – Mare is as intimidating as any army. He sighs. He can't stand out here forever.

He opens the front door and is immediately met with several confusing things. First, it is pitch dark inside, which is odd… unless Mare isn't home. Which would mean that he's fucked things up even worse than he thought. Second, he smells something… something good . Like spices and autumn. He drops his bag at the foot of the stairs and moves deeper into the house, and though he would normally turn the lights on as he goes, something instinctively tells him not to. When he opens the door to the little deck at the back of their house, he sees he was right to keep them off.

The small table is laid out with plates and wine glasses, and right at the centre stand two tall candles casting a flickering glow over the deck. Strings of globe lights drape back and forth above his head, brightening the area enough to see properly without diminishing the effect of the candles. Far overhead, constellations wink brightly like friends who are in on a secret that hasn't been shared with him yet. Mare stands at the edge of the deck, leaning against the railing as she looks up at the stars, bathed in a soft glow of golden light.

She turns around when she hears the door close behind him, and he swears the smile she gives him actually makes his heart stop. She looks… beautiful . Her hair hangs in loose waves around her shoulders, the purple ends reaching all the way to her waist. They match the lavender shirt she's wearing. The fabric looks silky, and he's sure it's too light for the time of year, despite the fluttering short sleeves. But the way the soft colour of it contrasts against the deep golden-tan of her skin is positively entrancing. Really, her entire appearance is breathtaking.

But that alone unnerves him a bit. It's obvious that she's put a lot of effort into all of this – the setup, her appearance. Cal doesn't understand what's going on. He had expected her to be angry, ready to send him silent glares throughout the night or argue with him some more. But instead she is standing in front of him looking positively… ethereal … and half of him feels like he's walking into some kind of bizarre trap.

"Hi," he says, his voice coming out much softer than he intended.

"Hi," she answers, taking a step closer.

"Mare, what –?"

"Cal, I –"

They speak at the same time and it makes both of them smile. Mare gestures for him to go first, standing uncharacteristically patiently before him.

"What's going on? What is all this?" he asks, and he hates how suspicious he sounds.

"You were right," she answers, moving close enough to reach for his hand. "Not about how I feel, but that I don't show it well. I'm not good at that, Cal, I'm not romantic ."

He still feels confused, but now there's a twinge of disappointment as well. It sounds like she's somehow both acknowledging him and refusing him, but she keeps talking before he can even think about saying anything.

"I want you to know that I love you, though," Mare says. "I don't want you to have doubts or feel like our relationship is unbalanced."

"Mare, I do –"

"If things like this –" She waves her hand around at the general ambiance. "– make you feel loved, then I should at least try."

Cal smiles, reaching out to cradle her cheek, and he savours the way she leans into his touch. He's not sure how to respond to what she's done. On the one hand, he wants to tell her that she is enough, that she doesn't need to try to be someone she isn't or to do something that isn't natural to her. He knows she loves him. But on the other hand… he wonders if he doesn't need this from her – the effort, the gesture. Not all the time, but every now and then. Maybe he needs to feel like she chooses him, and she's not just with him by default because he's the one left standing.

"Thank you," he murmurs, deciding that he can explore the intricacies of his romantic needs later. For now, he simply needs to appreciate what she's done for him tonight. Because she heard him, and she tried for him, and that alone means everything.

He leans forward, gently pulling her towards him so he can kiss her. His lips slide over hers slowly, reverently. It's so tempting to ignore everything around them and just pull her up to their bedroom, but it would be a shame to let all her efforts go to waste. Which reminds him…

"Did you cook?" he asks, stepping back from her slightly.

Mare laughs. "Yes. But it's actually good, I promise."

He raises an eyebrow sceptically. Her cooking skills have proven to be dubious at best.

"Trust me," she says.

She moves over to the table and sits down in one of the wooden chairs, waiting for him to follow suit. But something about it all sticks in his mind unpleasantly. This feels so… antiquated and unlike them. He hesitates, and it must be all over his face because Mare looks at him and frowns.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing," he answers automatically, but then he takes a breath. They're both trying to be better about that – being open with each other and not burying stuff inside. "I just… you didn't have to… I don't expect you to…" He waves his hand vaguely in the direction of the table, since words seem to be failing him at this moment.

Mare seems to understand his meaning, and to his surprise, she laughs. "Cal, relax. I didn't cook dinner because I think you're harbouring some secret fantasy of me as a housewife."

His heart flips and his brain nearly short circuits at the word wife , even if she wasn't using it like that . He wants that so bad. He's not sure if she'll ever want it too.

"I cooked because I knew you were getting home late," she continues, oblivious to the heart palpitations he's having. "It just seemed like a nice thing to do, and I thought a surprise romantic dinner would be something you'd like. I just wanted to do something special for you, that's all."

"Okay," he replies, accepting her words. "Thank you, it's all perfect."

She practically glows under his touch as he presses a kiss to her cheek before moving to sit in the chair across from her.

It turns out that Mare isn't wrong, the food is good . It's some kind of rice and spiced curry dish that she remembered her mom talking about, though they never had the kind of food to make it. Even her mom didn't know how to. But she'd asked Carmadon and evidently the huge library of the Premier's estate also held several books about cooking, and in one of them, she had found the recipe for this. He tells her about his trip and she tells him about her week and all the crazy nonsense her brothers have gotten up to since he left. You wouldn't think two adult men could get up to so much trouble in the span of five days, but the Barrow boys have a knack for finding trouble anywhere. When they are finished eating, Cal stands and grabs the plates, intending to clean up, but Mare stops him with a hand on his wrist.

"I'll do it. Everything is mostly cleaned up already anyway," she says, preempting his protests. "It's your night, and there's one more thing for you. I'll be right back, wait here."

Mare returns a minute later, reaching for his hand and pulling him to his feet. She leads him down the steps of the deck, walking through the grass to the side of their house, where the yard stretches out.

In the middle of the open space, a colourful blanket is laid out, with a few pillows from their bed sitting on top. Cal glances around before turning to look at Mare with surprise and a little bit of confusion written across his features.

She shrugs. "It's supposed to be a nice night. I figured we could stay out here for a while and… look at the stars or whatever."

He can't help the smile that spreads across his face. She has tried so hard, all for him, all to make him feel special and loved and he does. He doesn't have the words to tell her how much all of this means to him, and he feels somewhat overcome by it. His heart feels so full, and the only thing he can do is kiss her, crushing her lips under his as he wraps his arm around her waist and pulls her close.

Mare runs her hands over his shoulders as he hugs her tightly, and when he releases her, she brushes the tip of her nose over his. She smiles as she takes his hand, stepping forward toward the blanket she had set up, and she pulls him down with her.

They take a minute to settle in, scooching around until they are both comfortable, side by side with their heads on the pillows and their hands linked. It's a perfect night for stargazing, with no clouds in the sky to obscure their view. And for a moment, Cal does look up, tracing the constellations with his eyes and revelling in their beauty. But then he turns his head to look at Mare, and he thinks that's a much better sight.

"Cal, you're supposed to be looking at the stars ," Mare chides, though he can tell she's fighting back a grin.

"Mmm, but I'm looking at something much better."

It's stupidly cheesy, and Mare huffs a laugh at him, but he means it. She is his favourite thing to look at.

He rolls onto his side, propping himself up on his elbow so he can look at her better. She meets his gaze and smiles softly, and he can't help the surge of affection he feels for her yet again. Cal reaches out, brushing her hair back and tucking it behind her ear, and his thumb smoothes across her cheek. She is so precious to him.

"Thank you for doing all this," he says quietly, still stroking his fingers across her cheek. "I do know that you love me, and I'm sorry that I… let my doubts get the better of me. I'm sorry I had doubts. That's not fair of me."

She wraps her fingers around his, pulling his hand from her cheek and pressing a kiss to his palm. "Cal, it's okay. I don't expect you to be perfect, and it's normal to have doubts and insecurities from time to time."

"Do you?" he asks, his brows furrowing.

"Of course," Mare answers, but she turns her face away, looking up at the stars again. Her voice is quiet as she continues, and everything about her demeanour speaks to how uncomfortable she is still with sharing these thoughts. "I worry that you haven't really forgiven me, or that one day you'll resent me for being the reason you lost your country."

His cheeks flush deep silver. "Mare…"

"I know," she says, squeezing his hand. "You show me that my worries are unfounded. Your fear is that you are somehow a consolation prize, not the person I choose ."

He looks away from her, embarrassed by how succinctly she summarised his deepest concerns.

"But that's not true, Cal, and as your partner, I should make sure to show you that," she continues, moving her hand to his chin to make him look at her. "There's no one else I would rather do all this for."

"Thank you," he whispers. "When did you get so reasonable?"

"I don't know what you're talking about, I've always been reasonable," she laughs, settling back against the blanket.

Cal chuckles, following her back down, and laying his head on her shoulder. He drapes his arm across her stomach, content to snuggle with her all night. The autumn air is cool, but he is warm enough for both of them. Her fingers toy with the dark curls at the nape of his neck and he feels his eyes flutter shut with delight at her touch.

He had not expected his night to take the direction it had, but he feels like a weight has been lifted off his shoulders.