This night, the papers have departed, taking with them maps, memos, and missives alike. They leave only questions to linger around the shoulders of a sheep and a lioness, sitting apart on the same bed. His heart races to pump the Thunderer’s lightning through his body, and any moment he will burst from the strain. He must talk. He cannot talk. But he must. He must go first.

She is waiting, still.

“That night, when you told me about what had happened between you and Bella, I’d thanked you for being honest with me. And, I did mean it. But when I said that you didn’t need to apologize anymore, that I wasn’t hurt, I don’t think I did mean that. I hadn’t really given it much thought; how could I have meant it? But I thought I did, and I thought it was enough, and I couldn’t explain why it wasn’t so. You kept asking, too, checking in to see if my answer had changed. And every time, I told you the same thing. I was fine. I’d accepted your apology. Everything would be fine, now. But nothing [i]felt[/i] fine, and I didn’t want to burden you with nothing more than vague feelings.”

Amazing, how such a sensible plan sounded like rubbish when he had to speak it aloud.

“Do you remember when you offered me your post? Just earlier, that day, Hera had told me that I could, perhaps, learn more about what was the matter if I found something new to work for. It couldn’t have come at a better time. Even though…” He quietly promised to make Hera a nice snack. “I wasn’t sure it was such a good idea. I was just a chef. What business did I have, putting on a fancy hat and telling people what to do? How badly might that go?”

Unconsciously, his hand drifted to his chest, and rubbed at soft wool that only yesterday ached to the touch.

“It. Hasn’t gone perfectly, yes. Ah, no, that’s beside the point. We’re here, and we’re alive, and we have the Lanterns now, and that’s more than I thought we’d get. It’s more than I thought I could do, even though it nearly all went wrong. After…after I got hurt, it got me to thinking; if I could do this much, then perhaps I [i]could[/i] think a little more about what I wanted? If I’m at least this much more than a chef, then, maybe, I could ask a little more?”

“And I realized I wanted you. Vasilia, I want you so badly. I don’t want to travel, or do any of this, if it’s not with you. But when you and Bella…” A hundred words offer their services. None feel up to the task. So they burn, restless, in his throat.

“Dolce…” She looks so worried. At him. At his chest. At his face. “If you don’t-”

“Please. Please listen, I have to get through this part. I can do this.”

“Very well. Just. Just be careful. We can speak more tomorrow. It doesn’t have to all be tonight.”

Wouldn’t that be nice? But he cannot rest on the thought of retreat too long. If the momentum is gone, then…! “I thought about losing you, Vasillia. I’d always worried, maybe one day, you’d realize I was just a silly little chef, but never, I’d never actually lived in a world where it might happen. And that hurt. It hurt terribly. Losing you, that would hurt more than anything, ever. I kept thinking about what I could do to make the feeling go away. There must be [i]something[/i] I could do to make sure this would never happen again. But all this? Being Captain? Made me realize I didn’t [i]just[/i] want you. I want a life with you, Vasilia. Not just any life. Not a life where I serve you in fear of losing you. I want a life where I serve you because I’d burst if I couldn’t. I want to wake up, and know that you’re there as sure as I breathe. I want to make your meals, find you treasures, plan such adventures with you, and hardly be able to think straight for how much I’m looking forward to your smile. And I can’t see your smile if I’m too busy worrying I’ll lose it.”

She does not smile, now. Where a smile might live is broken, and her eyes are anguished longing, and her hands tremble not to hold him, and through the pain she manages a slight, questioning nod.

The words are exhausted, now. Let whatever may come, come. He nods back.

And at once she gathers him up and sits him on her lap and wraps her arms around him tight, so tight. “You are the best thing that’s ever happened to me, darling. [i]My[/i] darling. Whenever, wherever you fear, you must tell me. If you’re able, please, tell me. I thought I could see you hurting, but when I asked you, you always said you were so fine, and, and! I didn’t know what to think anymore. If I’d known, I would have told you, in any way you needed me to say it, that you were my most precious treasure. And nothing would ever, ever change that. My dear heart. My dear, dear Dolce.”

Of all the terrible futures he might have brought about, somehow, he never thought to really anticipate the one he was hoping for. “Vasilia…” Now, he trembles. Now, the tension locked tight in his heart releases, and he holds onto her for dear life.

“Shhh. Shhh, it’s alright, darling. It’ll be okay. I’m here. It’ll be okay.” She whispers into his wool, brushing the terrifying thoughts aside like so much dust. “I want to know how I can keep from hurting you again. You don’t deserve to face that from me, ever again.”

“I think…in the future, we shouldn’t do a plan like that, even if we’re out of options. Where we play with hearts, I mean. It doesn’t feel right, and, even if I know it’s for the mission, I don’t think I can keep from breaking apart.”

“Of course. Of course. Where should I draw the line? Touching another’s arm? A clever line to throw them off-balance?” When he grew quiet, to think, she added. “Whatever answer you give is okay. I don’t want to win a victory at your expense.”

“I think, if it were just teasing, perhaps? And you yourself were out of reach? I don’t know…”

“We’ll start there, then. If we need to move it, you can signal me. Cough loudly, or, I don’t know, do something attention-grabbing. We can work on it. Together.”

He feels, rather than sees, the thought approaching. The tensing of her shoulders. Her chest swelling with a sharp, bracing breath.

“Here. Just so you know, I don’t tell this story out of guilt. Well, okay, there’s guilt, but it’s not the motivating factor. You’ve not, forced this out of me, even though it is a rather big exercise in trust, but, ugh!” Pouting lionesses were difficult to take seriously. Fortunately, he had a lot of practice. “Look. It’s a story that I wish I had told you a long time ago. It’s a story you ought to hear, one that very few people in the universe know. And I want to trust you with it. I want you to hear it, and see me. As I am. Not…not as I might pretend to be, at times…”

Fitting, that the telling should begin how it would end; in each other’s arms. As gaps were filled, and a hundred questions answered, he nestled up in the crook of her arm, where he’d always fit. Her hands found their homes in his wool. Their heartbeats slowed, as one. There was much to learn, for the both of them. Too much to fit into a single night. They had thoughts to turn over, experiments to try, questions that would only come in time. But all must begin somewhere.

They were together again. Let that be enough to start.

********************************

“She means to kill the Princess.” Dolce says from his seat. “It was her aim on Salib. I don’t think she would give up so easily.”

“Not on treachery of that level, no.” Vasilia added, standing by his side as she surveyed the scene. “If she means to kill the heir, then she most certainly won’t stop with that. All of us are loose ends she must tie up, and this will be her best chance.”

“Indeed.” He nodded, then raised his voice over the collective murmuring. “Mynx? If you are listening, you have the best insight of all of us into her plans. What do you think?”