virgocat | Closed

"Yes, love. I'm alright," he breathes. Getting off this hilltop would be the first thing to do, and so he walks down the hill with her in his arms. "I love you." He's unable to hide the slight trembling of his arms, but he looks at her with a newfound appreciation. He could have lost her. His eyes are wide, his mouth open and sweat trickling down his face. It's hard not to just collapse right here.

"Love you, too." She's very groggy, but she's staying awake, so that's good.

They get maybe half way down, when they're met by half the Royal Guard, and her father and brother. Graham, who's as broad as Eames, even in his older age, reaches for his daughter, scooping her out of Eames' arms. Alexander, in turn, loops Eames' arm over his shoulders, taking his weight, for the trek back to the castle.

Rosella is put to bed in her room, with her mother watching over her, and Eames taken to his. There's a flurry of doctors, in and out, and for a couple of hours. Finally, things get quiet. Alexander pokes his head into the room, glances around to make sure the coast is clear.

"She's alone if you want to go see her. Mother's been convinced to let her rest, without a watchdog."

Eames is glad he didn't just go to sleep, and he slips out of his bed, nodding. "Thank you, Alexander."

He hurries to change into something presentable, forcing boots over his tired feet. They cleaned him off pretty well, but his hair is still sticking up with sweat. But he's not taking the time to fix it, worried he'll miss his window to visit her.

He acts casual as he walks to her room. If you look like you're doing what you're supposed to, people won't stop you. Sneaking has never helped him as much as blending in.

He reaches her door and slips in without knocking, shutting the door gently behind him. "Rose?" he whispers, not wanting to wake her if she's asleep.

She's tucked into her bed, on a mountain of pillows. She's propped up, and holding a cold compress to her head. But it's dropped the moment she hears the door open. She extends her arms, not au all shy about reaching for him like a child.

"Eames!"

He grins when he turns to her, pure relief and joy. He sprints to her side, skidding to a halt by her bed and embracing her fiercely. "You scared me, love. Are you alright?"

She hugs him back just as fiercely.

"I'm alright. Just a few bruises. What about you?" She draws back so she can look him over herself.

"Ah... not bad," he says truthfully. It could have been worse, really. And his wounds aren't that bad. The cut on his cheek has been treated and doesn't look bad. It's the puncture on his arm that's hurting, and he's basically got a big divot in his skin there. It's wrapped up in bandages, but it's bled through by now, standing out bright red through the white sleeve of his shirt. He decides to be truthful, and pulls up his sleeve.

"This one's starting to clot finally, I think. I'm going to have a nice, manly scar," he teases, trying to soften the sight of it.

She reaches up to touch just the very edge of his bandage, her fingers light as feathers.

"Will it ruin your tattoo?" She sounds very concerned, and looks it. But it's more than about just his tattoo.

"Just the edge of it. It'll make me look interesting."

He sits on the edge of her bed, pressing his forehead to hers and holding her, just breathing for a few moments.

"You scared me," he repeats, softer this time.

"You always look interesting." She settles into the embrace, just breathing him in.

"You scared me right back. How could I not try to help?" She knows this is a very gentle scolding, but really, could he expect anything else of her.

"Next time, you get abducted by the dragon, and I'll come rescue you."

He chuckles softly, kissing her lightly on the lips. "Deal. You'll come out of it more unscathed than me, though, I'm sure."

His fingers stroke at her cheek, his expression turning serious. "No matter what happens, I will always be there for you." And then he gets a crooked grin on his face. "Even if it means literally slaying a dragon."

She grins back.

"I feel I did try to convey that such a thing was probable, before you decided to come home with me."

She leans back against the pile of pillows she's been given.

"Take your shoes off, and climb in her with me. Holding you is the medicine I actually need."

He scoots over, plucks his boots off, and crawls into bed with her without question. He lies sideways and plops his head in her lap.

"You were very brave," he says seriously.

She immediately puts her fingers on his hair, petting him soothingly.

"So were you. It was your first dragon, after all."

"It was," he agrees with a chuckle. "I feel like I have no idea what I'm doing half the time, but I somehow killed a dragon."

"Welcome to adventuring, darling. Mostly we make it up as we go along."

Her smile quiets, and she cups his cheek, rubs her thumb across the arch of the bone.

"Do you want to marry me?" Normally, this might be a loaded question, but she asks it so simply, it doesn't seem a trap. It kind of sounds like she's asking if he'd like a pillow, or a drink.

He startles, surprised by the question. It's something that he'd thought about a lot. He thought about fidelity, commitment, duty. And in the end, none of that mattered.

"Yes," he whispers shakily, letting out a nervous breath and then smiling softly. In the end, all that mattered were his feelings. And this is where they led him. "Do you?"

"Yes," she smiles down at him. "Children?"

Okay, he's full-out grinning now. "Is this an interrogation?"

Alright, he'll answer for real. "Yes. Hopefully a few of them. You?"

"It's a polite inquiry," she chuckles.

"Yes, I want babies. With you."

Edited 2017-05-04 02:53 (UTC)

He beams at her, pleased.

"When, exactly, can one propose in the courting process?"

"Well, I'm a little sure that my parents think it's already begun. I don't usually just ask handsome men to move in with me."

He furrows his brows, confused. "I thought courting was like dating. Does that mean we're already engaged basically?"

A glance in her direction. "Will you let me ask you still?"

"Courting means that we have romantic intentions. The end goal is for an engagement. Marriage usually comes quickly after, within a few months at most. You and I are... intended, at this point. But there's nothing official in it. And, it is only proper to ask, before making it official."

He listens carefully, his smile turning warm. He leans up into her space, his eyes going half-lidded. "Marry me?"

Technically she already asked, so might as well screw up all traditions.

She's beaming at him, they're so close, not quite kissing.

"Yes."

He grins, and kisses her, deeper and with passion. He remembers back home, when he thought he'd end up alone, pretended he was okay with that. Now this young woman had flipped his world upside down, and he was hers.

He pulls away after a few moments, looking suddenly alarmed, teasing her. "I'll have to ask your father!"

He actually really likes and respects Graham. But it's still rather terrifying.

She makes a sad sound of protest when he stops kissing her, but it turns to a short burst of laughter.

"I assure you, he'll say yes. Now stop thinking about my father." She cradles his head and pulls him back into a kiss.

"Mm," is all he gets out before she's kissing him again, and he melts into the kiss, wrapping his arms around her.

They're engaged! They're going to get married! And have babies! He honestly can't believe this is his life, but he's grateful it is.

And he's going to be a king, and very rich, and there will be fairies and leprechans and elves at their wedding.

It's an awkward angle to kiss at, so after a valiant effort to keep going, she draws back, breath just a little quicker.

"Hey um...do you want to...?" Have sex. Do you want to have sex. Now.

"Um...do you want to change angles?"

"Change angles?" he asks with an arched brow and a smirk, rolling over onto his back. "You know, I thought you were going to ask for sex, but I was wrong. I suppose we won't have that then." Crosses his arms and watches her with an innocent face.

Her nose goes pink, which she thought she'd grown out of, and bites her lip.

"You're mean," she's not pouting, you're pouting!

He grins, having amused himself quite thoroughly. "You pronounced 'charming' incorrectly."

Totally holding his arms out for her now.

"Oh did I?" She tries hard not to smile, but she can't help herself. They just dealt with a very nasty dragon, and she wants to be in his arms in anyway she can. So she falls right into them.

He hums and kisses her, taking it slow and deep. He wants to make love to her. Lifting up, he pulls away a bit to peel off the layers on his top half, hissing when he gets to his left sleeve. He turns back to her for help, holding out his arm and holding the shirts with the other hand. Help, fiancee.

She immediately reaches to help him, her expression worried.

"Are you well enough for this?" The shirt is still discarded, but her hands are gentle as the touch him, so very careful of his hurts.

He smiles softly. "I'm fine, love. Promise."

He pulls her back down, kissing her slowly and heatedly.

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