Summary: Movieverse, post twitches II, Aron/Miranda, angst, continuation.
Disclaimer: I do not own this. If I did, it would not be a kid's movie. This is not a kid's story. I have not read the books and do not intend to because I like messing with the movie characters. The books may well be better than the movies, but since it is the movies' faults and inaccuracies that inspire my subplots… being too correct would destroy my material.
The room is still dark when he hears and feels her rise. The soft rustle of cloth as she moves across the room is the only sound.
"What time is it?" Aron asks, disorientated. The cold of the impending winter has permeated their chambers, and the safe and warm bed seems to him more attractive than the uncertain chill of open space.
"About an hour before daybreak," Miranda answers, sounding calm and pragmatic. "We need to be at the inquiry when the sun rises." She gestures and a light appears, though the room is still full of the raw chill of autumn.
She pulls her nightgown over her head, and despite her brisk manner, Aron's mouth goes dry. He does not intend any disrespect, but he cannot seem to stop from staring at her. Light, he thinks, but she is still beautiful, even after so many years and trials.
Before he can react further, she steps into a formal dress and pulls her arms through the sleeves.
Somehow, she has already done her hair; at least it looks wonderful and silky to him. He wonders if she charmed it that way or if his mind is just making unusual leaps. Self-consciously he runs a hand through his own messy blond locks.
Her fingers worry at the fabric of the gown, made of particularly majestic red and gold velvet, trying to lace up the intricate ribbon that tied the back of the gown.
He gives himself a shake and finds his voice. "Let me help you with that." He manages, stepping behind her, and wondering if he has gone daft.
She immediately drops her hands to her sides and mutely stands still, passively, rather to his discomfort.
True Aron is not entirely sure how to do this. Intricate dresses are not something he has any recent or even long past, experience regarding. There are several different colors and textures of ribbon involved, and he is not quite sure of the pattern. Neither his inconveniently shaking hands nor his all-too-awareness of Miranda's body improves the situation.
He should be able to focus better than this. Really, he should. It is just that Miranda looks so lovely, and he has not seen this much of her skin in over 21 years and he is only human and…
Without his conscious approval, his hands run down her soft back. The slight tensing of her muscles would be indiscernible to him, were he not so afraid of it. Feeling her near invisible flinch, he withdraws as if burnt, cursing his insensitively.
"Did I hurt you?" He says gently, knowing and fearing the answer.
"No." She answers in a monotone, softly and untruthfully.
"Don't lie to me Miranda," Aron says sadly, resuming his work with the laces carefully, desperate not to harm her again.
"You barely touched me," She answers in a soothing placating tone.
"Then why did it hurt?" He asks firmly and his voice speeds up as he tries hastily to explain himself. "I didn't think you'd still be bruised, it's been…"
"It's nothing!" Miranda cuts in harshly, sharply, cringing at her own volume. She looks a little to the side and clenches her jaw. "He just broke a couple of ribs that's all."
"Oh good you're ready!" Ileana says cheerily as she enters without knocking. Miranda, turning her head with a perfectly charming façade, says nothing more of her injury.
"Ileana!" Karsh shouts as he too walks through the door. "You can not just barge in like that." Aron rather agrees with his servant, but through supreme force of effort holds his tongue.
"But…" Ileana protests, pouting.
"It takes finesse…" Karsh supplies in exasperation, "And regard and etiquette and…
"Oh, that reminds me," Ileana adds in a brash and exasperating voice, stepping in front of Aron, "I should be doing that."
She starts lacing up Miranda's back, distractedly and none too gently. Aron winces, especially when Ileana pulls the laces tight with a convincing yank.
As for Miranda, why you might think she was at a ball for all the discomfort her face shows. In a way, Aron envies her that fortitude, even as he wishes he could disregard all etiquette and take over for Ileana. Where are Miranda's usual lady's maids anyway?
But then, he needs to dress too, or they will both be late, and he finds himself forced to disregard that line of questioning temporarily. He cannot question Miranda about her injuries in front of Ileana and Karsh. So, though he feels immensely worried about his wife, Aron sets about the more mundane process of locating a clean shirt.
As they walk to the Hall of Justice, Ileana, and Karsh half-walk half-run ahead, arguing about what Aron surmises is whether they are going to be late. And something concerning licorice? Aron really does not care. He reminds himself to find out the date for the pair's wedding, as somehow he has forgotten.
However, as always, his main concern is Miranda. He leans a little bit towards her and says in a low tone, "You have broken ribs?"
"It's nothing. They're most of the way healed." She responds in the same low register. Her walk is steady, dignified, and regal.
Before he can answer that, Ileana and Karsh rush back to talk to them, over each other, gesticulating wildly.
"Now you have to understand the format of the inquiry…" Karsh begins talking, Aron thinks, to him, although it is difficult to be certain.
"Just relax… breath." Ileana adds, taking a somewhat erratic deep breath or two to demonstrate.
"It's very important that you…." Karsh says to Miranda
"Concentrate… focus." Ileana gestures with her hands.
"There are representatives from most of the provinces, and they…" Karsh says with emphasis.
"Just answer everything. You have to answer everything. "Miranda just inclines her head graciously at the blond woman's imperative.
"This is very serious and…" Karsh interjects
"Oh just have fun!"
Then the intimidating mahogany doors of the Hall of Justice swing open and the inquiry begins.