For you Tessa.

She stares at the empty doorway for a couple seconds. Then walks numbly towards the vanity and takes a seat. Gunther's boots are still there, thrown haphazardly on the floor. She looks at them for a span of fifteen seconds then, for lack of something better to do, she removes her own shoes. She feels slightly better once she is free of their confines and tosses the beautiful, delicate things with just as much care and grace as Gunther had with his sturdy boots, and leans back. The open flaps of the corset make it slightly uncomfortable bunched up as they are against her shift underneath. With a sigh she looks on the table beside her where an elegant bottle and several cups are arranged artfully on a tray, she takes up the bottle. Its heavy with the weight of the liquid inside. She grabs a cup and pours, the liquid is a deep, sweet, red purple; wine. She takes a sip, the tart taste of the alcohol mixed with sweetness of the wine hitting her tongue in different ways. Its stronger than whatever they had at the wedding, and even to her untrained tongue, she can tell it must cost a fair share.

She is tempted, only for moment, to drink more. It would certainly serve to dull the ache of what just happened but it would also dull everything else and that is something that just doesn't sit well with her. She isn't one to blind herself, it doesn't matter what the rest of the night might hold for her, she would rather face whatever might come with her wits about her and her mind intact.

She sets the cup aside a drop sloshing onto her hand as she puts it down, they had gotten very lucky that with their positions both as knights, the King had deemed it fit that no one need be present for the consummation, they would take them at their word. But they had also been very assertive that must happen, the marriage must be true in law and under god.

That being said, she stares at the empty doorway, she doesn't feel very lucky at the moment.

She accepted it in her mind eventually, even prepared for it, but it had indeed been one of her biggest reasons to refuse the visits to house. The amount of thoughts that assaulted her at his mere mention of the place where bad enough she didn't want to find out how it would be to stand in front of it. Yet this day had been different, the way Gunther had looked at her as she made her vows and the kiss itself... He didn't seem... reluctant. Even the way he had cared enough to pick a home with enough room for Dragon, it surprised her but also put her at ease, she had finally been ready to enter the house. She had felt ready, her heart had pounded with anticipation not just nerves. Then...

It was like she had been confidently walking up the stairs, surefooted, only to find the next step stolen from under her and had tumbled all the way down once more.

She looks up at the doorway again wondering if Gunther will even return or if she is to spend the night in this strange room alone. Which would certainly be a relief at this point, if bring problems later on. However if he does return exactly how are they to move forward from here, it is something that she continuously ponders, because in truth she really, really just wants this night to be over.

""~""~""~""~""~""~""~""~""~"" ~""

Gunther sets the plate back down on the kitchen counter, setting a palm on either side and tries to get a hold of himself once again.

He has picked up the plate at least half a dozen times at this point and every time has had to set it back down afraid that his legs might just give out and he will have nothing to hold onto. He sighs leaning over the dammed thing he filled with what he could find in the kitchen. It had taken no more than few minutes, but he found that when he was done, he was nowhere near ready to head back up.

"Dammit!" He strikes the counter with a closed fist water sloshing heavily in its pitcher, the plate rattling from the impact. A piece fruit is shaken loose and rolls slowly off the counter landing on the floor with a small thud. He stares at it, unwilling to pick up, it just lays there mocking him from the floor near his bare foot. He lets out a huff of indignation and defeated, takes a seat in a nearby chair leaning his elbows on the small table in front of him and covers his face with his hands.

What in the bloody hell is wrong with him? He had just run away from Jane like some cowardly little boy! And now, here he was, getting weak at the knees just at the thought of going back upstairs? How was it that she could have such a suffocatingly strong affect on him? He had thought he was in total control but, the closer he had gotten to her the more difficult it had become to breathe. This was Jane after all, he wanted to kiss her so badly, to take her in his arms and make her his that it was physically painful. He was used to wanting her, that was nothing truly new yet, when she was right there, a breath away from a kiss and more, that was when he truly started panicking and had just bolted from the room.

This was Jane, he had faced against her so many times not two days ago, sword against sword, and had been perfectly fine. He'd kissed her not eight hours ago in front of everyone and been perfectly fine, better than that even.

He takes his hands away from his face and settles them down on the table, his wedding ring bright even in the dim light, reflecting the candle on the table as if it itself has caught fire. He rolls it around his finger, there is no true running away from this now. He just needs to stop hiding, head upstairs and let what was supposed to happen, happen.

So much easier said than done.

He groans once again, feeling stupid for wasting his time sitting in the kitchen when what he has dreamt about for so many years is waiting for him upstairs. He never expected to get it however, not realistically. It was the type of thing you dream about knowing it can never come to pass like becoming king or flying. Things like that where only achievable in fairy stories told to young children before they grew up and learned the truth about the world.

Yet this was Jane. She had a way about her of making impossible things possible. After all, she could actually fly, on the back of Dragon to be sure, but she soared across the sky all the same. She befriended a Dragon and succeeded in becoming the first and so far only female Knight. She was the magic in those stories, she was what they were made not only of but for. One only had to be near her to know the truth. She was something special, a hero plucked straight from the pages of a grand and epic tale, the type of person you only run into once in your lifetime and only if you were decidedly lucky.

Only this was real life, she was real. And he was getting his heart's desire but true to the nature of life, he was getting it in the worst way possible.

Gunther had long ago realized that he was decidedly unlucky, he hadn't had the fortune of running into Jane once and treasuring that moment, savoring the what could-be. No, instead he was constantly at her opposite, he saw her almost daily and had the wretched luck to not only see how special and admirable she was, but to resent her because her brilliance dulled so frequently everything around her; especially him. However, his resentment hadn't lasted forever, instead she had began to pull other feelings from him with her words and her determination but mostly just her way of being. He missed her when she wasn't around, and wanted for her attention, even ill gotten. He found himself unexpectedly elated whenever he had managed made her laugh... He began to find her stubbornness endearing and yet still annoying in full capacity. She completely got under his skin but he wasn't sure what he would do if she were ever to vacate that place inside him. And soon he found that those things he resented and annoyed him most had turned into the things that he missed and cared for the most, that he loved about her the most.

For that was the truth in all things, he had fallen in love with her. But Jane was as unreachable as any star in the sky that she so frequently traveled. She would forever be something he longed for, for she was up there, too high, so distant, so indifferent to him and his feelings. He had secured himself in this knowledge, known it to be certain fact and now...

His world had spun violently, turned roughly upside down and he had tumbled away from the secure, flat, unforgiving ground and straight into that star filled sky.

She was his wife.

He wasn't sure how he would ever get his bearings back after this, or if it was even possible. For how could he not take pleasure in this turn of events? Now he had Jane.

But only in name and in a reluctant acceptance. So how could he ever rejoice, if she could not do the same?

Yet this was Jane...

She was the one who had beckoned him to undo her dress in the first place. He focuses on that look, she was compelling him to her. He could read it so well because it was the same challenging look she always gave him when they were sparing, urging him forward, daring him to strike. Perhaps things weren't truly so unfamiliar out in the ether as they seemed. And maybe, at her side, he really can finally get his bearings and find his place. This was Jane after all...

He stands up, feeling much steadier than before as he takes the tray and finally, begins making his way upstairs.

Thoughts? Please Let me know!

First chapter of 2016!

As always thanks a ton for the reviews, its so incredibly helpful to see what you guys think.

Life, has been busy but I really want to try and write more. So regardless of other stuff I'm hoping that the next chapter is up sooner rather than later.

If not come yell at me!