A/N: No, no dear readers, don't faint or start looking for the four horsemen, it is in fact a genuine, bona fide update less than 6 months after my last one bahahaha. It's kind of a filler chapter, cause the next one will kind of be a doozy….there's a long author's note at the end if you want some explanations about the ridiculously long time it's taking for Tristan to figure out who she is :)
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Sookie had been right. Rory hated her.
It had taken so long for the nausea to hit her that she's started to think that Sookie had been mistaken and she wasn't going to get sick at all, but would have to think of another way out of the ball. Goodness had she been wrong. It was several hours after breakfast, almost lunch, when she'd first felt the twinge that rapidly progressed to a roiling nausea. She'd been with Madeline and Stephanie, helping them pick out ribbons to match their dresses for the banquet the next day when it hit her like a tornado, retching and paralyzing waves that made her fall to the ground gasping. She'd curled into a ball despite herself, holding her stomach and squeezing herself into as small a space as was humanly possible.
Madeline had stared at her in shock and Stephanie had started screaming for help, both thinking she was dying. In truth she'd wondered as much herself. A servant attending to Stephanie during her stay had bolted into the room, looking around wildly for what was causing the hysteria. Upon seeing Rory writhing on the floor she'd called out into the hall for the physician before falling to the ground next to her and touching her forehead, looking into her eyes. She tried to help but any efforts just made Rory scream louder. They wanted to move her to the bed but she just curled up tighter, squeezing her eyes shut and shaking her head. She really wondered if Sookie had accidentally killed her.
Finn, who'd been close by and heard the screaming, had wound up carrying her gingerly to her room. Even the gentle pressure of his arms made her whimper and groan. They called for Anna and she came running, her face streaked with worry. She'd fluttered her hands around, trying to find some way to comfort the squirming girl, but could find none.
The castle physician came and ordered everyone out of the room but Anna obstinately refused to go. If Rory hadn't been overtaken by crippling waves of pain and nausea she would have been touched. Instead she cried out when the doctor touched her stomach and barely made it over the side of the bed before she threw up. Anna cried out, reaching for her, but the doctor pulled the older woman back, and the last thing Rory had seen before passing out had been the maid's panicked face.
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Tristan sat with Max, Logan, and Mitchum discussing something about uniforms or weapons or some other thing that didn't require his attention but for some reason they still felt needed it. He was staring out the window wearily, leaning back in his chair. It wasn't so hard to tune them out once they got going. Usually he didn't even give the pretence of listening to them anymore. They were on the third floor of the castle, and from the window here he could see the tops of trees, the sky with a patch of clouds moving over it, and off in the distance the beginnings of a rolling field.
His mind wondered.
When he'd woken up that morning Leigh had been in his bed again, sleeping peacefully with her legs thrown over his and his favorite pillow clutched to her chest, wrapped in one of his softest shirts and a pair of comfortable pants she'd stolen from his closet sometime in the night. It surprised him, really. More than anything it surprised him that he hadn't been angry about it. If anyone else had done it…if any other woman had had the audacity to go through his things and put on his clothes he would have been livid. But with her…he simply thought that he could wake up to it every morning and never tire of seeing her swathed in his garments. He thought it was adorable, really, that she seemed to be developing the habit of wearing his clothes.
He was pulled from his musings when someone called his name from the doorway. He glanced up to see Anna standing nervously inside the room, looking directly at him. He stood quickly, "What's wrong?" he looked her over uncertainly. She'd practically raised him and by that had engendered in him a fierce affection for her. She didn't seem injured, though.
"I'd have a word with you, your majesty." She said quietly, looking between the four men in the room.
Tristan shot her a questioning look but stood without a word, following her out of the room. Once in the hallway she looked at him squarely, lacing her hands together in front of her. "Is everything alright?" he asked once they'd shut the door.
"Ah…" she trailed off, looking up at him, "Leigh's ill. She was sick in her room…" Tristan looked at Anna for another moment before glancing out of the window…it was still morning. He felt his eyes widen involuntarily as he turned back slowly to face her. At his look she promptly rolled her eyes, scoffing, "No, she isn't pregnant; she wouldn't be having symptoms this early." She snapped, "And even if she were it wouldn't be a good thing, so remove that look of awe from your face this instant."
"What's wrong with her, then?"
Anna shrugged, "She collapsed in Stephanie's room this morning-"
"Wait, what?" Tristan cut her off, "She collapsed, and I'm just now being informed? How long ago was it? Did she hurt herself?"
"Calm down, Tristan. She'll be fine. I'm sure it's just something she ate or maybe she's been around someone who is sick. It should pass in a day or two."
He shook his head lightly, "Anna, she collapsed, what happened?"
She shrugged, "I don't know, I wasn't there. They just said that she grabbed her stomach and fell to the floor nearly screaming."
Tristan felt his chest tighten, "And then?"
"Stephanie's maid came in and called for the physician. Prince Finn was near and he heard the screaming. They tried to help her but every time they touched her she just curled up tighter….he carried her to her room and they called me. The physician came and made the others get out but I wasn't going to leave her…" Anna trailed off uncertainly, watching Tristan through wary eyes.
"And what?" he urged her on, grabbing her shoulders gently.
Anna blinked slowly, "The doctor touched her stomach and she screamed. I hadn't heard her scream before that. She'd just been gasping…I think holding her breath made it hurt less…but when he touched her stomach she cried out and threw up…and then she fainted." She finished nervously.
"Anna!" he said loudly, gripping her shoulders tighter, "What? Are you honest? Why am I just now hearing this? Where is she? Is she still unconscious?"
"No, no, she woke up but she's resting now…not peacefully, I'm sure, but-"
"Where is she?" again he cut her off.
Anna shot him a stern look, "Tristan."
He ignored her, "Where is she now?"
"Tristan you absolutely can't go around her. What if what she has is catching?"
"Is she in her room?" he ignored her question and turned in the direction of where she was sleeping.
"Think about this, Tristan. She needs to rest. You being there won't help her get well any faster." He ignored her and kept walking. Anna sighed frustratedly, calling after him, "Fine! But when you fall ill don't say I didn't warn you."
Tristan got to her room in record time, knocking rapidly on the door. It was opened by the physician, who looked at him in surprise, "My Lord, what can I do for you?"
"You can let me in." he said simply.
The doctor looked around to see that he was blocking the door and grimaced lightly, "Your majesty, I don't believe the girl's illness is contagious, but it may be, and I would hate for-"
"Ronald." Tristan interrupted him calmly, "Let me in."
"Ah…yes, my lord, of course." He stepped aside reluctantly, opening the door wider. Tristan stepped in to see that Leigh was on the bed, her eyes closed and her chest rising and falling rapidly. Usually when she slept she reminded him of what the clouds in heaven must look like…calmly blowing around in the sky, smooth and warm and soft. That wasn't how she looked now. Rather, now, she looked like a tempest over an angry ocean, her breathing rough and rapid, her hair matted to her forehead and neck, sweat glistening over her skin as she tossed and turned in a fitful slumber.
Seeing her like that made something tighten in his chest and he looked over at the doctor, "What's the matter with her?"
He shrugged one shoulder, "It could be a number of things."
"She's going to be alright though, isn't she?" he asked, a note of tension in his voice.
Ronald opened his mouth, uncertain of how to respond. Being wrong could have disastrous consequences. "I would presume she'll recover shortly, I think it's just a bout of seasonal irritation with the sudden cold. Or it could be something she ate. She could just be exhausted…" he trailed off, "She should recover, though, I can't imagine she won't."
Tristan nodded lightly, taking a step towards her bed, "Thank you. Is there anything else you can do for her? Anything to make her more comfortable?"
He shook his head, "No. Any type of movement causes her pain, so if your goal is to make her as comfortable as possible, I wouldn't suggest touching her." He looked at the girl in the bed, "There really isn't much we can do. She'll just have to wait it out."
Tristan bit the insides of his cheeks, turning towards the bed as she whimpered, shifting violently in her sleep. "Thank you, Ronald." He said quietly before stepping towards the bed, effectively dismissing the doctor.
He heard the door close as Ronald left.
Tristan walked over to Leigh's vanity and picked up the chair, bringing it over to sit next to her bed. He sat down heavily, leaning his elbows on his knees. His head dropped down. He didn't understand. He couldn't figure out why in the world he was worried for her. A girl. A simple, country girl who had somehow learned to wield a sword with shocking precision. Who made him weak in his knees and burned so bright that she cast a shadow over the sun.
Why was he worried for her, though? According to Anna and Ronald she wasn't even that sick. But looking at her now…her forehead, neck, and chest glistened with a thin sheen of sweat, her hair was cast violently over the pillow from where she writhed in her sleep, and her hands and arms moved constantly in her slumber, gripping the sheets and flexing as if through pain. She made small noises in her sleep as well, cries and whimpers. She shuddered occasionally, curling in on herself.
Watching her like this made him hurt.
Tristan nearly jumped when a small whine came from the other side of the room. He twisted in his chair to see the puppy he'd given her, cowering in the corner. From the way it was trembling it seemed as if the small dog had watched all the activity from its corner, too frightened to make a sound. It saw him watching it and the shaking intensified. He leaned over, one hand close to the ground, and whistled to the dog, calling it to him. It pushed itself harder against the wall. Tristan swore under his breath. What was it Leigh had named it? Something that had made him laugh. Something…something… "Duke?" he called quietly. The dog sharpened. Tristan whistled softly again, not wanting to wake the sleeping girl, "Duke, here boy." The puppy crept forward cautiously, uncertain that he was frightened of Tristan now that he knew his name. He called the dog again and this time it reached him, touching its nose to his hand curiously before licking his fingers. Tristan picked the dog up gently, holding it in his lap, and it burrowed into his stomach, rubbing its head against his shirt. He looked down at it, understanding why Leigh had liked it so much, petting its back slowly.
He wasn't sure how long he sat watching her, but the shadows outside had moved considerably when she made a sound that wasn't one of sleep. She woke slowly, moving stiffly and impained. Tristan leaned forward anxiously. She shifted again, opening her eyes slowly. She stared up at the ceiling for a moment, her eyes tight with pain, before sensing him by the bed.
She turned her head slowly, looking at him evenly, "Tristan?"
He smiled lightly, "Hey."
Her forehead scrunched in confusion, "But…what are you doing here?"
"I heard you fainted." He said quietly, looking over her, "That you were sick. How do you feel?"
She opened her mouth, considering for a moment, "Like hell."
He laughed quietly, glad that she was talking, "Well that's no good."
Leigh shook her head, resting it back on the pillow sideways to look at him, "Aren't you supposed to be doing kingly things?"
"I was, and trust me, sitting here with your dog was much more entertaining than where I was before."
She looked down to see her small dog curled up in his lap and amusement flashed across her face, "He is a keeper."
Tristan smiled, setting the dog on the bed next to her, "He is."
Rory glanced out of the window and her face scrunched, "But it's almost night. I fell asleep late this morning." Tristan nodded solemnly. She turned to face him, sitting up, "How long have you been here?"
He shrugged one shoulder, "A while."
She shot him a look, though it was marred with pain, "Protecting me and watching out for me. That's so adorable." She broke off slowly, turning her face away from him.
Tristan stood swiftly, touching her face, "Are you alright?"
She kept her face turned away from him, sliding it out of his hand, "I'm fine." Her voice was tight. Another dizzying round of cramps was invading her entire torso.
He didn't try to touch her again, but sat on the side of the bed, "You're sweating."
Rory let out a strangled laugh, "Yes, well it hurts."
Tristan pulled his long sleeve down so that it covered his hand and he used it to gently wipe her slick brow, taking the sweat with it, "Mary, Mary, Mary." He whispered helplessly. She let out a small sound in reply, leaning over to rest her forehead against the bed and pull herself into a tight ball. He looked down at her, swearing silently, before glancing around the room.
On the hearth, warming by the fire, he saw a pot. "That looks like one of Anna's remedies." He said quietly.
She looked up, her eyes narrowed, with her arms still tight around her abdomen, "Yes. She gave it to me earlier to help me sleep."
Tristan gave her a short look before walking over to the fireplace and pulling a cup from the mantle. He poured the tea into it, smelling honey, and brought it back to her, blowing on it. He held it out, "Here, drink it."
She shot him a look, "But I've been asleep all day."
He shook his head lightly, "Yes, and now you're awake and you look as if you're dying from the inside. Drink."
Rory let out a long, controlled breath that shook lightly and sat up completely, taking the cup from him, "Thank you."
"It's just a drink." He said quietly as she raised the mug to her lips.
She looked at him over the rim, her face still tight, "I wasn't talking about the drink." She muttered before touching her lips to the glass and drinking shallowly.
Tristan sat back on the side of the bed, trailing his fingers over the cover uselessly, tracing his fingers down her leg through the material, "It was nothing." She tried to smile but couldn't. "Does it really hurt that bad?"
She looked up at him, pulling the cup from her lips, "Have you ever had a cramp in one of your muscles? Mainly in the arch of your foot or your leg? They seem like they never go away but really they only last for a few seconds, but in that time they wake you up wanting to scream, only it hurts so much that you can't make a sound?" her voice was quiet.
Tristan nodded slowly, "I got them when I was seventeen and eighteen, yes."
"Well its like that." She said quietly, "Only it hurts when I breathe or move and I'm sick but there's nothing in my stomach to get rid of and it still won't go away." She sighed, bringing the cup back to her lips, "And it doesn't only last a few seconds." She muttered under her breath, making him smile wryly.
Rory drained the cup and held it out to him, smacking her lips unnecessarily. He smiled lightly at her, taking the cup from her, "How do you feel?"
She scrunched her nose, baring her teeth at him and squinting her eyes.
He laughed out loud, "That good, huh?"
"Eugh." She groaned, falling on the bed. She laid still for a moment. "Ow."
He touched her arm lightly, "Lay down."
Again she bared her teeth at him, clicking them twice, "You lay down."
He cocked a grin at her, pushing her to the mattress gently, "You are in no state for what would happen if I laid in this bed."
Her laughter caught on a stab of pain.
"Is the tea helping at all?" he asked gently.
"It will soon. It dulls the pain enough for me to sleep." She exhaled heavily, pressing her hand over her eyes.
Tristan held her hand gently, pulling it away from her face to lace her fingers with his, "I have to go. I told Mitchum I'd meet him hours ago."
Rory tilted her head, clicking her tongue, "Slacking on your duties…tsk tsk tsk."
He rolled his eyes, "Go to sleep."
"Mmmmh." She closed her eyes, relaxing back into the mattress, "Goodnight."
Tristan smiled down at her still form. She was already relaxing. He leaned down, laying a slow kiss on her forehead. She shifted, mumbling something content. Tristan pulled away softly, surprised that her forehead was once again coated in sweat. "Goodnight." He whispered back.
He stood up to leave and he was halfway to the door when he heard her speak quietly, "Tristan?"
He turned around, "Yes, Leigh?"
She sighed, already half asleep, "Happy early birthday."
He stood looking at her, a bundle of covers and pillows and flowing brown hair, for a moment, surprised. She didn't move again or say anything else. And so he turned quietly, closing the door behind him.
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Rory woke late the next morning, feeling shockingly refreshed. She pushed herself up slowly, looking around the room. She was alone. She rubbed her eyes, shaking her head rapidly. Alone. Anna was gone.
She turned to step off the bed and sat right back down, a wave of nausea overtaking her. Maybe she wasn't quite healed yet. It wasn't as bad as it had been the night before though. She looked around the room again, still trying to figure out what was going on, when the door opened and a young maid came in, smiling brightly, "Good morning Miss Leigh! How are you feeling today?"
Rory stared at her, eyes narrowed. She'd never seen anyone so chipper in the morning. "Who…" she shook her head lightly, trailing off.
"I'm Tina." She supplied happily.
That hadn't been Rory's question. It had been more along the lines of….who the hell is smiling that brightly before lunch? "Where is Anna?" she asked slowly.
Tina was already bustling around the room, pulling back the curtains to the window and swirling the water in a large metal basin warming next to the fire. "Oh, she wasn't feeling well and she didn't want to make you any worse, so she's staying the servant's wing today.
Rory still stared at her, her face scrunched in confusion. She hadn't moved since the girl had entered the room. Anna was sick? Anna didn't get sick. She watched the girl bounce around the room.
"Come on, into the bath."
Rory didn't move.
She stepped toward her, "Come on Miss Leigh, into the bath."
"Uhm, no." Rory held a hand out, scooting further back onto the bed as the girl came closer, "No, I don't think so."
Tina gave her a strange look, "What's wrong?"
"I don't, ehh…I don't take my clothes off in front of people." She said lamely.
The girl shot her a look, "Now, now, it's just a bath. I'm sure you don't have anything I don't."
Rory laughed out loud at that, then clutched her stomach, swearing at herself. "I just…I don't like taking my clothes off in front of people."
Tina put her hands on her hips, tilting her head, "I have my directions and I'm not leaving until you take a bath. Really it's not that bad."
Rory sighed, kneeling on the bed. "I'll get in if you leave."
Her head cocked back, surprised, "What?"
Rory leaned forward seeing an opening, "Honest. I hate taking my clothes off in front of people. I can do it myself."
The girl looked at her uncertainly, "I don't know…"
"It will be fine." Rory coaxed, crawling off the bed, "I'll be quick, I'll put on my slip and call you back in. I won't say anything, if anyone asks, though I doubt they would, I'll say I knocked you out." She smiled lightly at the girl's shocked look, pleased with herself despite the stabbing pain in her stomach, "Don't worry, I won't actually hit you."
"I…" she trailed off.
Rory smiled encouragingly, shooing her towards the door, "It will be fine." They were almost to the door when she glanced over to her vanity and slowed, narrowing her eyes. There was a nightgown thrown over the chair that hadn't been there before. She nodded towards it, "Do you know what that's for?"
Tina looked over, surprised, "The nightgown?" Rory nodded. "It's yours. Anna stayed up all night with you and she said that you kept tossing and turning and that you were soaked with sweat. She changed your nightgown so you wouldn't catch a chill."
Rory froze.
She felt the ground fall from under her.
Anna had changed her clothes while she slept?
Suddenly the pain in her stomach was barely noticeable.
The young maid looked up at her, "Miss Leigh, are you alright?"
She looked over at the girl, dazed, "Yes. Yes, I'm fine."
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Rory sat by her window that night staring resolutely out into the dark night. Torches and handing lanterns decorated the lawn. She could hear the party goers from her spot next to the open window. She watched as groups of people went from the lawn into the ballroom and back out, laughing and talking and drinking. She knew, realistically, that she should be glad she wasn't there, but really she wished that she were.
Stephanie, Madeline, and Finn had come in throughout the day, whining to her about how they wished she would come, even if just for a little while. And she wanted to, she did. She even felt better. Her cramps were almost completely gone and the nausea was just a twinge, but she told them that she still wasn't up to it and eventually Logan had come in and thrown them out, saying that she needed her rest. She'd been sitting in her room all day, rearranging everything and going through all of her clothes, reading books. Without the crippling pain of the day before to distract her she'd just had nagging cramps and boredom to keep her company after Logan had thrown the others out. Anna had never come back. Rory didn't know what to think. Surely she'd finally seen her crest? But why hadn't she done anything about it yet?
She sat now, looking between the twinkling lights on the lawn and the stars in the sky, sitting in the windowsill and sighing, wrapped in a blanket as the cool night autumn wind blew her hair behind her shoulders. She rested her head against the cold stone, sighing. But she was suddenly pulled from her thoughts by a quiet knock on the door followed by it being pushed open without waiting for an invitation. She twisted around, surprised to see Tristan walking in. Marty hadn't been pulling her leg when he'd said that her dress had been made to match Tristan's clothes. He had on a rich, elaborately stitched shirt in the same ice blue that her dress was made out of, trimmed with silver like hers was. It fell over him perfectly, outlining his defined shoulders and chest. His pants were dark blue and tucked into black boots, which hit the carpet covered stone heavily as he moved.
He saw her and shot a crooked grin at the look on her face, closing the door quietly before walking over to her, "Hi." He laid a playful kiss on her open mouth.
She stared up at him in shock, "What….your party…" she motioned towards the lawn below.
"Bah." He waved a hand, sitting across from her on the windowsill, "The party isn't important."
She looked up at him, "But Max has been planning this banquet for weeks."
He tilted his head, looking down at the lantern-strewn lawn, "And Max is thoroughly enjoying it, let me tell you."
"But you're missing it."
He glanced up at her, his lip quirking, "Forget the party, Leigh, I'll go back in a minute. Do you feel any better?"
"Yes, actually." She smiled brightly, pulling the cover tighter around her, "The cramps are almost gone and the nausea is barely noticeable anymore."
He smiled warmly at her, brushing a lock of hair behind her ear. She wasn't clammy anymore, "Yeah?"
She nodded, shifting closer to him, "Mhmm. I guess the physician was right. It was only a day or two."
"That's good." He said quietly, trailing his fingers gingerly down the side of her face. It was strange to him, to have to be gentle with her. He was a lot of times, just out of habit, but really he thought of her as one of the toughest people he knew. She had to be in order to take the beatings she did on a regular basis. To have to be easy with her because he would hurt her was a new phenomenon.
She looked away from him, smiling to herself, "How is your banquet?"
He dropped his hand, shrugging, "It's alright." She shot him a look, arching one eyebrow. His lip quirked, "Well, you would enjoy it, I think. Everyone would enjoy it more if you were there…" he trailed off, nodding his head from side to side. "I swear, Madeline and Stephanie have been drinking and falling all over each other talking about how sad they are that you couldn't come."
Rory laughed, "Aww." He grinned at her but didn't say anything. She tilted her head, looking at him through hooded eyes, "Would you enjoy it more if I were there?"
"Ehh…" he trailed off thoughtfully, rubbing his chin, "You know there are so many girls from court down there…"
"Tristan!" she yelled, annoyed even though she knew he was kidding. She swung her arm out to hit him without thinking, but he caught her wrist, laughing as he pulled her into his lap. There was a stab of pain through her abdomen, though it wasn't bad enough to make her pull away. But she did push him away for good measure, knowing perfectly well that he'd just pull her back. And he did, not letting her get away from him at all.
He held her against his chest; his arms might have been stone for all the progress she made pushing against him. He just laughed, kissing the crown of her head, "But none of them nearly so captivating as you, Leigh."
She rolled her eyes but relaxed into him, resting the side of her head against his shoulder and pressing her face into his neck, "You never answered my question." She mumbled against his skin.
She felt his body shake with laughter, "Yes, Leigh, I would enjoy the party immensely more if you were there."
Rory hit his stomach lightly, "Stop being facetious."
Tristan slid his fingers through her hair, sending tingles down her spine. He kissed her neck slowly, "I'm not." He breathed into her ear.
She shivered against him, the heat he kindled in her contrasting sharply with the cramps. She didn't know what to think. He held her close, running his fingers through her hair. "Happy birthday." She whispered after a comfortable silence, slipping her fingers under his shirt to trail over his washboard abdomen. She felt him shiver.
He chuckled quietly, "Thank you."
Rory closed her eyes, relaxing completely into him. The combination of his warmth and his scent and the constant rise and fall of his chest lulled her into a near sleep. All she knew was that she was somewhere between slumber and wakefulness when he shifted, sitting up straighter and nudging her gently, "Mary." He whispered into her ear.
She didn't open her eyes, "Hmm?"
"I should go back."
"Mhmm."
He laughed gently, standing without jostling her, "That means I have to leave."
"Heeeey." She said quietly, opening her eyes as he laid her in the bed.
He laughed, leaning down to capture her lips in a long, deep kiss. He pulled away slowly, "I'll see you in the morning."
She smiled warmly, "See you in the morning."
Tristan brushed her hair back gently, kissing her forehead before shooting her a smile and leaving quietly. Rory smiled, relaxing into the covers when the door banged open again. She grinned, speaking as she sat up, "I thought you had to get—oh" she broke off, her head cocking back. Tina stood in the doorway. "What?"
The maid glanced behind her, "Was that the king?"
"Yes…" she said slowly, uncertain of why that was interesting. It wasn't like everyone didn't know about them.
Tina looked out into the hallway Tristan had disappeared down. She looked back to Rory, "Did you two…" she trailed off suggestively.
Rory's eyes widened, "What? No!" she shook her head, "Why would you even ask that?"
Tina sighed, her body deflating, "Because, Max Medina told me to send you to the king's room tonight. But I didn't know if you were up to it. I was thinking that if you two…" again she trailed off, "That if you two did now then you wouldn't need to go later tonight." She shrugged, "But I guess you will."
Rory's eyes narrowed, "Max told you to send me to Tristan's room?" She nodded vigorously. Rory rolled her eyes, sighing, "Ridiculous."
Tina stepped farther into the room, closing the door behind her, "The banquet will be over soon, so you should probably go ahead and change."
Rory's gaze snapped up, "Into what?"
The girl walked over to Rory's closet and pulled out a long form fitting nightgown. She brought it over and Rory ran her hand over it gingerly. It was made out of something she'd never worn before, a soft silky material. Tina turned while she pulled her nightgown over her head and slipped the new one on. It fell to the floor and hugged her body all over, the neckline dipping dangerously low. She slipped her fingers under the thin straps, sighing. This was ridiculous. Tristan would rip it off in about ten seconds anyway.
Tina attempted to give her face and chest a layer of powder but Rory bared her teeth at her and she shrinked back. She did insist on walking Rory to Tristan's room, however, to make sure she actually went.
Once they were there Rory promptly closed the door in Tina's face, resting her back against the door to Tristan's lounge and sighing, closing her eyes. She'd never been alone in Tristan's room and would have loved to have looked around, but she didn't have the energy. Her body was still wiped out. And so she walked slowly into the room. She glanced at the couch, considering laying on it, before deciding against it and walking towards the bedroom. She pushed the door open, sighing quietly as she stepped into the dark room. She didn't need any light to find the bed and she collapsed into the blankets and pillows, closing her eyes. She was sure Tristan would wake her when he came in….
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Rory slowly became aware of the sunlight heating her body the next morning. She shifted slowly, smiling to herself when not even a twinge of pain throbbed in her stomach. She stretched, her body warm. Her back and left side were still warm, the bed next to her still pressed in from where Tristan had lain last night. Somehow she had the impression that she'd slept with his chest pushed against her back, his arm thrown over her waist to hold her close.
Rory thought about it…tried to remember the previous night after she'd laid down to wait for him…and nothing. She pushed herself up, looking around the room. She still had on the nightgown she'd passed out in.
She turned to see that Tristan was sitting in a chair next to the bed, pulling on his boots. He looked up, hearing her move, and smiled lightly, amused at something she didn't get. "Good morning."
She watched him, still confused, "You didn't wake me up."
He smirked, "You looked so comfortable. I didn't want to…" he trailed off, laughing at whatever had completed the thought.
"What?"
He shook his head, "I didn't want to wake you, but you did wake up a little when I got into the bed."
She didn't understand why this was funny, "Did I?"
He nodded, still grinning, "You talk when you're half awake."
She sat up on her knees, looking at him, "Did I say anything bad?" it had to have been bad for him to still be laughing about it.
Tristan finished pulling on his shoe and looked up at her warmly, "Well, you informed me that I take up too much room and steal all the blankets."
Rory gasped, clasping her hands over her mouth, "I didn't."
He laughed out loud, "You did. And you also told me that there wasn't enough room for both of us on the bed but that I was more than welcome to sleep on the floor."
Her eyes widened, "You aren't serious."
He watched her, amused. His eyebrow arched, "You don't think so?"
She bit her lip, pulling her hands away from her mouth, "Did I?" her voice was small.
"You did."
The nervous twinge in her stomach was fading. Telling the king he was welcome to sleep on the floor could cost you your head, but Tristan wasn't angry at all. He wasn't even annoyed. He was just laughing at her. "And nothing even happened?"
He snorted lightly, shaking his head, "No. Nothing happened."
So she'd slept in his bed last night. He'd held her close and hadn't even gotten any sex out of her….she didn't know what to think of that. People didn't just sleep in the king's bed, especially if all they did was sleep. She looked him over to see that he was dressed, "Where are you going?"
"I have to meet with Finn. They're leaving this morning."
Rory bit her lip, tilting her head thoughtfully, "Do you have to go right now?"
Tristan smirked, standing, "What?"
She held a hand out towards him, beckoning him closer. He came forward, resting his hand on her hips. She spoke slowly, twining her arms around his neck, "Is this meeting absolutely necessary? Do you have to be on time?" she trailed her fingers over his shoulders and down his chest, "Because if you can be late, I'll make it up to you…" she trailed off, biting her lip.
He slid his hands down her sides slowly, languidly, "Mary." His voice was a tortured groan, "Don't tempt me."
She laughed, leaning forward to kiss him slowly. He kissed her back harder, trailing his hands over her body and pulling her closer. Rory grinned against his lips, twining her arms back around his neck. He kissed her deeply, pulling her bottom lip between his teeth as his hands slid up her arms. His fingers slipped under the thin straps of her nightgown and she gasped in shock, breaking her lips from his when, in one fluid motion, he pulled them down over her shoulders, peeling the cloth down to her ribs and leaving most of her upper body bare. Tristan chuckled lasciviously and took her open mouth in his, one of his hands coming up to hold her head in place so she couldn't pull away again. His other arm wound back around her, pulling her close again as his mouth fused harder to hers.
He broke away to trail his lips over her jaw and down her neck, scraping his teeth along the sensitive skin. Rory shivered at that, but she couldn't hold back a gasp as he pushed her up with the hand on her back, his lips tracing down her shoulder to her chest. He laid a trail of hot, open-mouthed kissed over her collarbone before his lips touched the swell of her breast, already making her arch violently up into him.
She felt his body shudder, partly from a laugh and partly from something else that she assumed had to do with the fact that she could already feel him pressed hard against her center. He scraped his teeth over the pale skin, the hand on her back pulling her closer. Rory squirmed as his mouth danced tantalizingly around her chest, never hitting home. But his firm grip held her in place.
"Tristan…" she protested, pushing her hips against his.
He broke away, coming to look at her with a shining grin, not letting her wriggle away from him, "Yes, Mary?"
Usually she would have replied with some annoyed, biting remark, but instead she crashed her lips against his, catching him off guard. He kissed her back readily, though, letting her pull him onto the bed and push him down on his back. She climbed on top of him without breaking the kiss, straddling him. One of his hands came up to tangle in her hair and hold her close while the other slid up her hip to hold her firmly in place, pushed intimately against him.
Rory pushed her hips down, grinding against Tristan slowly. His grip on her hair and her hip tightened and he swore under his breath, pulling her lips harder to his. She felt herself grin against him. She rocked her hips again and this time he cursed out loud, pushing up against her as he pulled her down.
Rory broke her lips from his and had just touched them to his neck when she felt him break his grip on her. His hands came up in one fluid motion to pull the straps of her nightgown back over her shoulders and without missing a beat he grabbed and her and twisted, pressing her back against the bed and pushing himself off of her to stand.
"What?!" she pushed herself up on her elbows and glared at him, her chest heaving.
He looked down at her in disbelief for a moment, his breathing labored as well, before a grin of acknowledgement cracked his lips. He shook his head, exhaling in a heavy breath before turning, "Touché." He muttered under his breath, running a hand through his hair.
"What?" this time she was just confused.
He turned back to her, "Fine, I did it to you, you do it to me, I get it."
She still stared up at him in confusion, her hair falling around her in disheveled waves. It took her a moment to think through her muddled mind and make sense of what he was saying, "You think I was getting back at you?" she asked, shocked.
He looked at her, uncertain for a moment, "Weren't you?"
She almost laughed, "No. I was just annoyed. I don't…" she trailed off, "I don't think straight enough when you do that to come up with the idea to get back at you."
A grin broke over his face, "So when I annoy you your natural reaction is to throw me on the bed and climb on top of me?"
She shot him an offended look, "I didn't say that."
He smirked, "Yes you did."
"You're infuriating." She snapped, faking anger, and he laughed out loud, leaning forward to kiss her, but she turned away so his lips landed on her cheek. He didn't let it faze him and without breaking his lips from her cheek he wrapped his arms around her and tackled her into the mattress, collapsing on top of her. He didn't support any of his weight so it all fell of her; he continued to place light, annoying kisses all over her face but avoided her mouth as his weight slowly crushed her. She tried to push him off but it was no use, so she let out a strangled groan but it was muffled against the covers, "Augh you're flattening me."
He broke his mouth from hers, "What darling? I'm sorry, I can't hear you with your face pressed into the bed."
She turned her head so that her face was barely an inch from his, though the lust fueled air had left them and was replaced with a lighter, more congenial one. Even this close she really didn't have any urge to kiss him, "I said, you're being exceptionally obnoxious this morning."
Tristan just laughed and rolled off of her, but kept his grip on her so that she was pulled across his chest, "Are you feeling better today?"
She nodded, resting her head on his chest and closing her eyes, "Mhmm."
"Good." He kissed the crown of her head affectionately and rolled her off of him, standing, "I do have to go though."
Rory pushed herself off the bed too, "I need to go get dressed, I guess."
He turned at that, looking her over slowly. He crossed his arms over his chest and tilted his head thoughtfully, "Why in the world would you change out of that?"
She laughed, hitting his arm lightly, "Obnoxious."
Tristan shot her grin before leaning down to kiss her lightly, "Do whatever you want. I have to go, so I'll see you later today."
She kissed him back, mumbling against his lips, "Mmm. Bye."
He gave her a last smile before leaving the room. She heard him close the door that went from the lounge to the corridor outside his suite. Rory sat heavily on the bed before glancing around the room. It looked like she'd be going back in the nightgown. It wasn't like she wasn't used to the looks by now. She glanced over to his closet and thought momentarily about changing into something of his. It would cover more skin, but cause much more of a stir and earn her more looks. His robe was draped on the back of his closet door, she knew, but that would have been unnecessarily ostentatious. After a moment of deliberation she decided to throw on one of his more informal shirts just to cover the low cut neckline.
She left his room quietly, making her way back to her own room as quickly as possible and taking pains to avoid running into people. The stares and whispers were annoying enough without adding fuel to the fire.
Tristan's friends were leaving that morning and she wanted to say goodbye to some of them so once she got dressed she would go downstairs, but she was going to have to work on her own to get into one of her dresses, which was easier said than done considering that practically all of them corseted up the back.
And that was what she was thinking about when she came to her room and pushed the door open, only to scream quietly and jump back. Anna was there. Sitting in a rocking chair. Glowering. Rory stood in the doorway, staring at her. She'd never thought of Anna as capable of inflicting much more harm than plain annoyance. She wasn't so sure now. The way the old woman looked at her made her want to turn around and run back.
Instead she bit her lip lightly, stepping into the room and closing the door, "Hi." She said quietly. Anna didn't answer. Rory cleared her throat, "Are you feeling better?" Again nothing. They sat in silence.
After a stretch of staring up at her Anna spoke quietly, "What is your name?"
Rory shook her head, feigning confusion, "What?"
"What is your name?"
She laughed lightly, nervously, "You know my name."
Anna stared at her steadily, "Leigh Danes." She said quietly, scornfully, "A common village girl. Though I can't for the life of me think of why a common village girl would have the family crest of one of the oldest lines of nobility in our kingdom burned into her hip." Rory swallowed hard, but stood up straighter, raising her chin. She said nothing. Anna looked at her evenly, "What is your name, Lady Hayden?"
Rory watched her, unmoving. Lady Hayden. No one had called her that in ten years. "My name," she said quietly, looking at the old woman before her, "Is Duchess Lorelai Leigh Gilmore-Hayden."
Anna's body tensed and she stood, "So then it's true." She whispered. Rory nodded, but said nothing. "The last of the Gilmores and Haydens. The youngest of Christopher Hayden's children. You really did survive."
Rory raised her chin another hair, "Yes."
Anna looked at her, "How?"
"My parents got me out of the city before they were killed." She said quietly, her voice emotionless.
The old woman looked at her, shaking her head, "Why?" her voice was tight.
Rory shook her head, confused, "Why what?"
"Why are you here?" she asked as if Rory were an idiot for it. And really, she couldn't blame her, "You survived, unbelievably, and then you come back to the city. Into the castle. Do you not have any regard for your own life?"
Rory looked down, "I had to come, you know that. I didn't want to. Why do you think my father fought so hard to keep me in Stars Hollow?"
Anna's voice was void of inflection, "Your father is dead." Rory flinched, but said nothing. There was nothing to say. And more than anything she didn't want to provoke Anna, not now that she knew the truth. Because contrary to appearances, she did have regards as to her own life. "What does Tristan say?"
She blinked, surprised, as she looked up, "What?"
Anna looked at her, "What does Tristan say about it? What has he said to you? Does he not care?"
Rory shook her head lightly, confused, "He doesn't know."
Anna's eyes narrowed, "What do you mean he doesn't know? How can he possibly have missed it?"
"You missed it." She said quietly, pressing her back against the closed door.
Anna nodded thoughtfully, watching Rory, her gaze calculating. "He doesn't know…" she trailed off questioningly.
Rory saw the gears in her mind turning and she lunged forward, grabbing the woman's hand. She fell to her knees. Anna jumped in surprise but Rory didn't release her, "You can't tell him." She said quietly. She didn't reply. "Anna." She snapped, pulling on the woman's hand, "Please, please, I beg you. You cannot tell him."
She looked down to the girl on the floor, conflicting emotions chasing each other across her face, "Leigh--" she broke off, shaking her head, "Lorelai, I can't. I will not lie to the king."
"You don't have to. You don't have to say anything to him at all. Just don't tell him."
She still shook her head, looking away from Rory, "I can't…" she trailed off.
"Anna, please." She implored, standing, taking the maid's face in her hands, "Please, please, please, don't tell him."
Anna looked up at her, "He'll find out eventually." She said quietly.
Rory shook her head, "Please, if you ever had any affection for me, don't tell him."
The old woman sighed. Something in her face had softened, "It isn't a thing of the past, Lorelai. I still do have affection for you." She looked at her imploringly, "But this, this lying, this hiding, it will only make it worse for you in the end." Rory bit her lip, but said nothing. Finally Anna spoke, "I won't tell him. But if he asks me, I will not lie."
Rory nodded rapidly, unable to believe this was happening. That Anna wasn't going to tell. "Okay, alright. Of course, of course you must." She grabbed Anna and hugged her, squeezed her to her chest and held her so close the old woman gasped. Anna patted her back gingerly, resting her hands on Rory's shoulders, which, from her, was kind of like a bear hug. She pulled back, looking into the maid's face. "And Anna?" she said quietly.
"Yes?"
"My family and friends call me Rory."
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A/N: So I know it isn't as long as the past few have been, but this was kind of a stopping point considering the next chapter is going to have a lot happening in it….
2) And I know, I know, it seems like it's taking forever for her identity to come out, but really there was no way she would have ever told Tristan. Regardless of how much affection he seemed to have for her, he's the king and her father killed his father. You don't make decisions like revealing that you're the daughter of the man who murdered the king when you're supposed to have died ten years before, just cause the king is getting some nookie.
3) She wouldn't have told him and before they started sleeping together and there was no way he would have ever even had an opportunity to see her crest, and as of this moment in the story they've only been at it for a few days…. a grand total of 4 times, and it isn't like she's walking around him in the nude. AND he wouldn't exactly be looking for it, he thinks all the Haydens are dead and even if they weren't, why would one be in his bed?
4) AND, the fact that it takes so long for him to find out who she is, and that so much has happened between them, is kind of the point of the fic. If he just kind of liked her, or if he'd just kissed her once or twice, finding out who she is would be a very different experience than it will be with all that's happened.
5) However, on that note, lol, I know the wait is frustrating to you guys, I promise it is to me too, but I'm about 99.999% positive that the reveal is going to be in like, the next chapter or so, I'll have to see how the writing goes but never fear, it's coming up very soon. And the next chapter should be up kind of fast also, considering that writing trory love is way more important than homework, and my classes this semester start relatively late in the morning, which leaves plenty of time for staying up into the wee hours of the morning writing :)