A/N: Thanks for your reviews! I cannot express how much they really mean to me. As a writer, it's the only kind of feedback I get about my story, and to know what you think of it. I want to answer a comment from Frippery, who was asking about Hecate's reaction to Thanatos cornering Persephone. Part of the reason she didn't stop Thanatos or go looking for Hades is because, like Thanatos, she didn't realize how frightened Persephone had become. Another reason is that she knew Thanatos, while he might push at Persephone, would never do anything to deliberately hurt her. Bruises are another matter, as you'll see in later chapters. But the main reason that both Thanatos and Hecate reacted as they did is because they *wanted* to provoke Hades. They knew he was coming in a few minutes. If he walked in and immediately jumped to her rescue, they'd know he cared about her, and he gets to act like a hero. If he ignores it, then she means nothing to him. They haven't given up hope for Hades! As for Thanatos, he wanted to see what it would take to make Persephone to stand up to him. He was testing her dedication to Hades, and also what kind of person she was. They want to make sure Persephone is worthy of Hades, of course!
I hope that answers your question! Feel free to ask anything, if I don't answer, it's probably too spoilery or it will be answered in the story within a few chapters. Here's your new chapter today. What do you think Hades would do with Persephone on his day off?
Chapter 10: An Afternoon Off
Together they made their way to the library to fetch a scroll for her to read while he worked. They met Thanatos on the way there. Hades stopped with speak with him.
"Thanatos," he called sternly, "Why didn't you summon me for work?"
"My lord?" Thanatos looked blank.
"Usually by now I'm in my study going over your reports. Why didn't you call me?" He was feeling irritated, suspecting that once again his advisors were trying to arrange his life.
"It's your day off," Thanatos answered calmly.
It was Hades' turn to be surprised. He made a habit of scheduling himself off one afternoon a week. He usually spent it with Cerberus, and took his dog riding. He eyed Thanatos suspiciously, and counted the days since his last afternoon off. The lesser god was right: this was his free day. In the excitement of Persephone's arrival, he had completely forgotten.
"Ah, thank you," he said gruffly, embarrassed at having to be reminded.
Thanatos inclined his head and started to leave. He paused. "I believe I heard Cerberus whining when I passed the kennels earlier," he said in an unsubtle hint.
"That will be all," Hades said in exasperation. Thanatos had the audacity to smirk as he walked away. Hades looked down at Persephone. Her face shown with curiosity and excitement. He was aware of the way their fingers entwined, and he felt the urge to kiss her.
"Would you like to meet Cerberus?" he asked.
She grinned in answer.
Like horses, dogs were some of the creatures that chose to serve after they'd earned their well-deserved rest. It was the most intelligent that preferred the company of shades and gods to the endless Elysian fields, and none were more intelligent than the one with three heads.
Cerberus' fur was white, but it was hard to tell under all the spots. He had spots of every size, shape and color. There were huge ones longer across than Hades' arm, and freckles smaller than the tips of Persephone's fingers. They were grey, black, red, tan, brown, buff, and all shades in between. Over all it could have made for a very ugly dog, but instead Cerberus managed to look like a rather eccentric mutt. His body was about the size of a mountain lion, with broad shoulders to support three necks and heads.
"Cerberus!" Hades greeted his dog. Cerberus let out a chorus of barks, sounding like an entire kennel by himself. His tail wagged hard, and three heads thrust out for petting.
"This is the Lady Persephone," he introduced. "And this is Cerberus. He understands what you say."
"That's amazing," she said, hanging back at first, nervous of the large dog. She cautiously extended a hand to be sniffed, and soon three muzzles were investigating her.
"Hello, Cerberus," she giggled, becoming more comfortable. She began petting all the heads, while Cerberus panted happily. Hades leaned against the wall to watch them. His shadow prowled around the room, taking on a distinctly feline shape. The slinky movement caught the attention of first one set of eyes, and then another. Soon all three were watching his shadow. Without warning, Cerberus pounced on it. The shadow batted at the dog, while the various heads bit down and shook playfully.
"No!" Persephone screamed and threw herself on top of the fray. Hades' heart nearly stopped. She pried at Cerberus' jaws with her delicate fingers. The dog released the shadow and backed away with a whine. Hades strode forward and picked her up.
"Persephone," he exclaimed. It was the second time he used her name informally today. If he wasn't careful it would become a habit. "What's wrong? Are you alright?"
"I'm fine," she gasped, but she was trembling. She ran her hands over his chest and arms, creating a wealth of sensation. "Are you hurt?"
He almost didn't hear her question. He caught her hands and held them in one of his, easing her to her feet.
"I'm not hurt," he said quickly. "What happened?" His breathing was ragged from her administrations. She looked him over carefully.
"Cerberus attacked your shadow. I thought he was hurting you."
Warmth spread through him. She was protecting him. He stared at her in wonder as she blushed and began to fidget.
"I'm sorry, I know it was stupid," she hung her head and started to turn away. He caught her arm to stop her.
"No, it wasn't," he said, his lips pulling upward into a smile. "It was very brave of you." He couldn't stop grinning. Had anyone, especially this slip of a goddess, ever tried to defend him? She threw herself on a three-headed dog for him! He wanted to kiss her. His hand on her arm twitched, aching to pull her closer.
"That's just the way we play," he explained. "He wasn't hurting me."
"Oh," she looked embarrassed. He longed to offer comfort, and ran his hand up and down her arm, unable to resist stroking her.
"You should probably tell Cerberus that you're not mad at him," he said. "He doesn't know what he did wrong."
She looked at the dog. He crouched away from them, all six ears back and his tail low.
"I'm sorry, boy," she said, kneeling to pet his heads. "I didn't know you were playing."
Six ears perked up, and in short order all was forgiven. She scratched under his chins for a few minutes, before she looked up at Hades and asked, "Does he have a nightmare form, like the horses?"
Hades smiled. "Yes, actually. Cerberus loves getting dressed up, and he actually figured out how to dispel the illusion on his own. No other animal can do that."
Cerberus barked and wagged his tail in excitement.
"Can I see it?" she asked the dog directly. He barked again.
Hades took the precaution of standing behind Persephone, and then snapped his fingers. Instantly the spotted form of Cerberus disappeared. In his place was something out of the depths of Tartarus. The Hellhound stood twelve feet tall at the shoulder, and had to crouch because the kennel wasn't that big. Each head was as big as his original body, and his fur was jet black. It was thick and matted. His tail was twice as long, and scaled like a snake. The three heads had eerie blue eyes that glowed. The insides of their mouths were blood red, with fangs longer than Hades' hand. Vivid green drool leaked from their jaws, and where it touched the floor, the stone hissed and dissolved.
Even though she'd known to expect the transformation, Persephone still gave a squeak of fright and pressed back against Hades' legs. Cerberus gave a cavernous growl that shook the room—and suddenly reverted back to his spotted form. He sat down and panted proudly, his tail beating the floor. Persephone let out a laugh.
"Very good!" she praised the dog. "I've never been so terrified in my life!"
Cerberus preened under her hands. He accepted a few more pets, and then trotted over to the door and gave Hades a distinctly reproachful look. Hades chuckled as he helped Persephone rise.
"We usually go riding, and Cerberus misses his exercise," he explained. "Would you like to join us?"
Her eyes lit up, and then her face fell. "I would," she said wistfully, "but I don't know how to ride."
The Fates were smiling on him today. "That's quite alright," he said smoothly. "For today, you can ride with me, as my mare is strong enough to bear us both. Next time, we can see about getting you a horse and riding lessons." He faltered, realizing he had assumed there would be a next time.
She smiled and squeezed his hand. "I'd love that."
His heart jolted. Hearing her speak of love was like the ultimate forbidden temptation. What would he have to do to get her to say she loved him? They stood there smiling at each other for several minutes, before one of Cerberus' heads barked in impatience. Still holding Persephone's hand, Hades led her to the stables.
The palomino and the bay were the best chariot horses, but for riding he preferred a big chestnut mare. She had been a warhorse, and had the size and muscles to prove it. Her back was only an inch shorter than the top of Hades' shoulders, and was twice as broad as most horses. She had three white stockings and a wide blaze down her face. Long feathers on her lower legs covered hooves the size of dinner plates. Her mane and tail were an orange-ish color compared to the copper-red of her body. Persephone was instantly taken with the mare.
"What's her name?" she asked, stroking the white nose while Hades tacked up the mare.
"Phlegethon," he answered. "She's named after the river of fire."
"I can see why," she nodded, admiring the big horse.
They were ready to ride. He led Phlegethon out of the stables, Persephone walking on his arm. She gave the mare an apprehensive look, clearly wondering how she was supposed to get on something so big. He could have brought them over to the mounting block, or even offered her a leg up. But he was feeling playful, so instead he turned toward the goddess, put his hands around her waist, and lifted her to Phlegethon's back. She had a moment of misgiving as she realized how high off the ground she was. She clutched his wrists, her eyes wide.
"Don't let go!" she pleaded.
"I'm not," he assured her. His thumbs caressed the curve of her ribs. "I'm not letting you go." He realized he was talking about more than simply holding her to the horse. He longed to hold her with all his heart. He wanted to throw off his restraint and fully court her. Damn what Demeter or anyone else would think. They played no part in his happiness; only her, Persephone, who had begged him not to let go. But what did he have to offer a young maiden like Persephone? His kingdom was great, but he feared he was very poor as a suitor. She would not want him as a man. She had not shied from him yet, but in his soul he knew it was only a matter of time.
Eventually her death-grip on his wrists eased, and she nodded to him. He didn't remove his hands just yet. He was aware of her warmth under his palms. She was allowing him to touch her like this, and he savored every moment. I'm not letting you go, he repeated silently, even as he forced himself to release her. He still held her in his heart. He didn't have long to miss her touch, for he swung up behind her a moment later.
He put an arm around her middle and pulled her snug against him. She leaned back, tilting her head to smile at him. He smiled back, marveling at how well she fit against him. He hadn't dared to hold her this close before; riding was only an excuse for him to give in to his desire. She was at the perfect height for him to lean down and kiss her. Her smile tempted him to do just that. He caught himself moving forward, and pulled back suddenly. He wasn't here to woo her. The mask over his feelings was dangerously thin, and every second in her presence eroded it further.
He nudged Phlegethon forward with a faint sigh of regret. Persephone gripped his arm hard, thrown off balance by the movement of the big animal beneath them. She made him feel strong by relying on him to steady her. He was proud to have this beautiful woman hanging onto him.
"It's alright, I have you," he said, tightening his hold on her middle. He was holding her closer than strictly necessary, but she didn't complain. He wondered briefly if he was damning himself. What right did he have to force himself on her like this? It would only make it that much harder to give her back to Demeter when the time came. But she wasn't complaining. She didn't seem to mind that his hand spanned her side, or that her back was tucked securely to his chest. If he leaned down a couple inches, he could rest his chin on her shoulder, or whisper lover's words into her ear.
He was finding it hard to care that she wouldn't want him. He'd longed for an excuse to be close to her, and now he had one. Tomorrow he could worry about what was proper. He could be the stern lord of the Underworld then. Today was his day off, and he just wanted to be the man who was in love with the woman in his arms. It was the first time he thought of it in that term, but hadn't he known where he was going from the beginning?
He kept Phlegethon to a walk to give Persephone time to get used to riding. Even so, the mare had a long stride, and they covered a lot of distance. He kept sneaking looks at the maiden. She seemed content to watch the town pass by from within the circle of his arms. If only it could always be like this. If he was anyone but the god of the dead, if they had met in another manner, he might have felt free to court her properly. Instead he was reduced to these stolen moments, unable to express his feelings.
Cerberus trotted patiently at their heels through town, but once they reached the gardens, he began barking in excitement. He ran circles around them, darting in to tease Phlegethon. The mare flattened her ears and snorted, prancing in irritation. Persephone's breath caught in her throat. She clutched his arm tightly, but giggled rather than shrieked. He smiled at the sound of her happiness.
He let a couple inches of rein slip through his fingers, and Phlegethon broke into her big, springy trot. Persephone bounced awkwardly, unable to find her balance to either sit or post the trot. The mare's back hunched in warning. Hades gave her more rein, and she extended into a ground-devouring canter. Persephone flailed helplessly, until he pulled her hard against him. With her body snugged to his, she suddenly caught his rhythm, and she was in balance again. They moved in concert, swaying together with the powerful mare's strides. The feeling of her against him was exquisite. The motion of two bodies driving together brought to mind another activity, and his mouth was dry with emotion.
He felt Persephone struggling for breath. He worried he was squeezing her too tight. Then she seemed to catch her breath. She flung back her head and gave a wild peel of laughter. It wrapped around his heart and clenched hard. Phlegethon spooked and bolted for a few strides, until her brought her under control again. Persephone stretched out her arms to either side, reveling in the wind as it tore past them. She trusted him completely to keep her in the saddle.
"It feels like flying!" she shouted giddily. He put his mouth next to her ear so she would hear him over the rush of the wind.
"Not quite, but close," he teased. She shot him a look of wonder over her shoulder, but it was too difficult to carry out a conversation. The wind whipped Phlegethon's orange mane like the flames she was named after. Persephone's hair was blown into his face, strands of yellow-blond, copper-red and gold-brown flashing before his eyes. They caressed and stung his cheek in a burning pleasure-pain. The scent of rain and flowers tantalized him, until he was bathed in it. He was in bliss. Holding her against him, her hair stroking him, her scent assaulting him. He could almost believe he had ridden into the Elysian fields without notice.
Cerberus followed them, sometimes behind, sometimes ahead or to the side. His heads let out a chorus of unearthly bays, sounding like an entire fox hunt by himself. His shadow took on the shape of a dog and ran beside them like another hound. Both horse and dog could run faster, but Hades kept them to an easy canter for Persephone's sake. It still felt very fast to someone not used to it. They blazed past the gardens and the fields. All too soon the fork in the road appeared, and he sat back to slow the mare. She tossed her head in protest, but was too well-behaved to ignore him.
As soon as they slowed enough for speech, Persephone twisted in the saddle and flung her arms around him.
"Thank you," she gasped, "That was absolutely amazing! I've never felt so wonderful… so free in my life!"
He was slightly overwhelmed by her outburst, by the feel of her holding him. He managed a chuckle. "So you liked it then?"
She hugged him tighter. "I loved it! And if that's not like flying, you have to take me flying someday."
A fine shiver ran through him. There were few things he liked better than the true freedom of flying, and he longed to share it with her. But it was a very intimate act, even more than riding. He had to hold her tight against him, and this time it was his own body, not the horse, that would be driving them to locomotion. He wasn't sure he could take her flying and remain sane.
"Hades," she began, and he sucked in a breath at the sound of his name from her lips. The informal address was so much more personal. It fanned the emotions in his chest, until he thought they might burn him. She blushed and corrected herself.
"Lord Hades," she said firmly. He wished he could tell her to forget his title, but if he did, he would lose any ability he still had to hold himself apart from her.
"I want to thank you for all you've done for me," she said shyly. "For sharing your home and your kingdom with me. Even your horse and dog! You didn't have to help me when my mother asked, and you didn't have to be so nice once you brought me here. I'm nobody, just a minor goddess, and you didn't have to bother yourself with me. You've opened your life to me, and I want to tell you how grateful I am to you."
His throat locked tight, and he was unable to respond. He was unsure what to make of her declaration. She thought him generous and kind, but she didn't know the thoughts he had been struggling with since she arrived. She believed him altruistic, when he was anything but! And what did she mean by speaking to him now? Had she noticed his unseemly reaction to her, and decided to put him in his place? Did she try to soften the blow by praising him first? Was this her attempt to let him down softly?
He could easily imagine her adding in a firm tone, "But you must know that I could never feel anything for something like you, so you might as well stop trying." The silent words cut his soul, though she said nothing. Another thought occurred to him, worse than the first: did she think to repay her obligation with her body? No matter how he desired her, he could never take her if she only felt compelled to offer.
He was sick with anticipation, waiting for her next move. She surprised him again. She laid her head gently on his chest, unconsciously seducing. If she had meant to lure him, he could have resisted. But her unintentional gesture undid him. He stifled a groan of longing. He would have done anything she asked of him. She had no idea how she tormented him! Nor could he ever tell her, for fear of her reaction. She would be repulsed by him. At best it would make things strained and awkward between them. At worst she might fear him, and no longer allow him to protect her. She would go back to Demeter, and fall prey to whatever god that wanted her. No, he couldn't bear it.
His hold on her tightened, under the excuse of keeping her steady. His chest hurt, both with repressed emotion and the thought of her coming to harm. He turned Phlegethon toward the path that led to Asphodel. Tartarus was out of the question, and he didn't want to see Elysium right now. After Persephone's declaration, he worried that it would seem like he was trying to impress her. If he really examined himself, he had to admit he was afraid of being disappointed in the Elysian fields. No matter what Elysium showed him, it couldn't match the feeling of holding Persephone in his arms.
So he took her to Asphodel. It was neither happy nor sad, but at least it was peaceful. They rode through fields of asphodel flowers tall enough to tickle Phlegethon's belly. These plants too gave off a faint gleam, though not as pronounced as in the grain fields. Cerberus almost disappeared, save for his heads and arching tail. With his mottled color, he actually blended quite well with the grey flowers. Occasionally they saw the spirits of the dead. Mostly they stood or sat with patient, blank faces. Having drunk from the waters of Lethe and forgotten their past lives, they now waited their chance to be born again.
Hades and Persephone exchanged few words, though they rode for several hours. Time was nearly impossible to tell without the sun, but he could feel it passing away. She asked about the flowers and the realm, and he answered softly. They didn't ride faster than a sedate walk. It seemed both were more content to hold each other than to care about where they were. Touch replaced the words he could not say. Cerberus grew bored with their pace and began ranging ahead, returning every few minutes.
Asphodel was not a happy place for the souls, but Hades felt a steady joy radiating from his chest. In all his long existence, he had never felt this way before. No one sought him for company, or leaned on him as this young goddess did. The feelings in his heart were growing, until it was an exquisite pain to say nothing. He savored the feel of her against him. There was no telling when he might get a chance for this again—if ever. He felt guilty for taking advantage of her youth and trust. She saw him as her protector and host, little knowing that he desired far more from her. Did it matter that he meant her no harm? No, it only made him more deceitful as he tried to think of ways to protect her after she inevitably left.
Eventually, they were both hungry, and it was time to return for dinner. One nice thing about the deep connection he had with the Underworld was that no matter how far they'd been riding, when he wanted to leave, the exit was only a few paces behind him. He turned Phlegethon around and soon they were in the fields again. He urged the mare into a final canter. Persephone was better prepared for it this time. She braced against him, her body moving in sync with his, her head flung back with breathless laughter.
Once back at the town, they saw Cerberus to the kennels, and rode Phlegethon to the stables. Hades dismounted first, anticipating that Persephone would need help. She made a clumsy dismount, but when she touched the ground her legs buckled. He caught her securely.
"It's alright," he assured her, taking advantage of the privacy of Phlegethon's bulk to hold her close again. "It happens when you're not used to riding long times."
"I'll have to get used to it," she said casually.
His heart jumped at the evidence that she wanted to go riding with him again. He kept his arm around her as they walked back to the palace. She no longer needed the support, but she leaned on him just the same. He wished this moment would never end. They parted briefly to change for dinner. He hurried through his dressing, loathe to be parted from his love for long. His heart squeezed tightly every time he thought of her. He could say nothing about it, but he was no longer denying his feelings to himself.
As he entered the parlor off the dining room, he received an unpleasant jolt to see Hecate and Thanatos already in attendance. He'd forgotten he had ordered them to be present at meals. He wasn't if he was disappointed or relieved to see that they had chosen to listen to him. He knew it was dangerous for him to continue to spend so much alone time with Persephone, and yet he always longed for a few minutes more.
Thanatos was standing off to the side, while Persephone and Hecate talked animatedly. Or at least, Persephone was animated, while Hecate listened with glee. From Persephone's gestures, Hades thought she was describing Cerberus' Hellhound form. Her back was to the entrance, and she didn't see him come in. He stood next to Thanatos, watching her for a moment. Thanatos too had his eyes on the young goddess.
"She's less afraid," the lesser god murmured, his voice pitched low to avoid detection. "You're good for her."
Hades had no answer. He thought of her declaration of gratitude, and smiled fondly.
Thanatos glanced at him, and said even quieter, "She's good for you too."
His smile vanished as he rounded on his advisor. "Whatever you're thinking, stop it, now!" he growled. The sharpness of his tone caused the women to take notice of him.
"Lord Hades," Persephone greeted, unaware of the tension he'd caused. She went to him and put her arms around his neck, kissing his cheek. It was over too quick for him to either resist or welcome her affection, which was probably for the best. She stood at his side, his arm naturally curved around her shoulders. His shadow circled around her feet. He loved the way she was not afraid of touching him. It was astonishing the way she welcomed any contact from him as well. He was nervous in front of Hecate and Thanatos. It wasn't that he was ashamed of his closeness to Persephone, but he worried he was giving the wrong impression. They looked like a romantic couple, but the truth couldn't be further away. As much as he longed to enter into a relationship with her, he knew it was impossible.
He glanced around the room. Thanatos was deliberately looking away, but Hecate was watching them with a predatory smirk. He narrowed his eyes at her. She met his gaze for a moment, her expression pleading, then looked down. He suppressed a sigh. He knew they desired him to make a pair with Persephone. They had been with him a long time, and this was the first time he showed interest in a woman. They believed if he only had a partner, he'd be happy for once. He couldn't deny that he was happier in the last two days than in his entire existence, but how could he let his joy with Persephone take away her chance at happiness with someone else? How could he possibly make the maiden as happy as she made him? The thought pained him, and he forced it from his mind.
"Shall we eat?" he asked, and led the way to the dining room.
The first part of dinner, Persephone joined in the conversation, but as the evening grew later, the events of the day caught up to her. She began to droop in weariness. When it came time to leave the table, she stumbled. He caught her before she could fall. Instead of straightening, she leaned on him gratefully. His heart pulsed erratically.
"You're tired, you should rest," he murmured, though he was reluctant to give up what was becoming their nightly ritual.
Her eyes widened, and she straightened. "I'm alright," she said forcibly. She was as eager as him to continue their routine. Hecate nudged Thanatos, and they both stood.
"We are off to bed, my lord," they said hastily, and left.
Hade glared lightly after them, but gave up on trying to correct them. At least they were attempting to be discreet. It was the best he could hope for. Persephone began to lean on him again, exhaustion getting the best of her.
"Shall I carry you?" he asked with feigned casualness. His hand slid down her back in a caress he could no longer hold back. She shivered and pressed closer to him, deliberately this time.
"If you wish," she said, her voice muffled by his shirt.
There were many things that he wished, but the real question was if he dared. Holding her so close and not having her was Tartarus anyway, so what was a little more? He picked her up, one arm under her knees, the other under her shoulders. She curled into him. Her hands rested on his chest, her cheek against his heart. She giggled tiredly.
"I feel bad for making you carry me," she said.
"Don't," he replied softly. "The privilege is mine." But in his mind, the word he used was pleasure.
She nuzzled into him. "I think it's my privilege as well," she said quietly. His chest swelled with emotion. He carried her toward his study, as their reading material from last night was still there. She watched him silently for a time. Her fingers reached up and touched the scar at the corner of his jaw.
—Screams and the scent of rotted blood— A thousand memories boiled up, and he shuddered.
"I'm sorry," she said quickly, withdrawing her hand. "Did I hurt you?"
"No," he lied breathlessly. His scars always ached. Most of the time he could ignore it, but her touch had woken them all. "It's just sensitive," he fibbed. Very sensitive. No one had touched his scars since they were formed; they were more scars on his soul than on his flesh, places where he had been broken and not put together right. Any brush against them caused memories to flood over him, almost overwhelming in intensity. He remembered screams, pain, rage. He remembered being eaten, burning in the stomach acid, remembered fighting back, hopelessly, remembered breaking himself, changing from god to monster, and the killing, the endless cries for mercy as he killed and killed and killed—
He broke free of the memories, trembling. A fine sheen of sweat stood out on his skin. His scars ached deeply, a pain that never fully went away. His shadow shifted restlessly, unable to decide if he was a god or a monster. To his shame, Persephone saw everything. He couldn't meet her eyes. She'd seen his weakness. She rested her fingers on his face, near his scar without touching it. A shiver went down his spine. Distantly he heard screams, smelled the smoke—
"I wish it didn't cause you so much pain," she murmured, and suddenly it didn't. The memories were still there, still as vivid and horrifying as ever, but they no longer threatened to overwhelm him. The ache in his soul that he had carried for so long was eased as well. Not completely, for he had a lot more scars than the one she had seen and pardoned. There were far more under his clothes that she would never see. No one ever wished for his well-being before, or thought to ask. By accepting his past, she healed him.
His shoulders lifted, and his knees strengthened. "I do believe I feel better already," he said, his tone teasing but his intent serious. She brushed her thumb over his scar. There was no pain this time.
"You make me glad," she said softly. He stumbled and almost dropped her. Surely that wasn't what it sounded like? Could it be possible that she returned his feelings? No, it wasn't, he told himself firmly. She likely only meant that she was glad for him, not that he caused her gladness. Anything else was too much to hope for.
He carried her to his study and put her on the couch. By the time he got their scrolls and turned back, she was curled on her side, sleeping. He smiled fondly at her. He stooped to pick her up, intending to take her to her room as usual. Instead, he found himself only shifting her enough to sit under her. She moved into his warmth appreciatively. This was what he really looked forward to every night. He felt a sensation as if he were finally home. He was complete with her touching him, in a way he'd never been before. He watched her sleep, wishing she felt even a quarter as much for him as he did for her.