Cataclysm War | Chapter 52: A Quiet Moment (First Draft)

Saturday, July 30, 4 S.E.

Leonidas closed the door behind himself and Aylar thirty minutes later when they entered his rooms, shutting out the corridor behind them and the Royal Guards that had positioned themselves along the expansive hallway. A single objection from the gilded defenders had been raised about the Queen being alone with Leonidas, but in a surprise turn of events, both Mernyn and Leona had scathingly shut down the interjection, leaving Leonidas feeling pleasantly surprised as he and Aylar retreated.

Now, alone in his quarters, he suddenly felt unreasonably self-conscious.

“So,” he said haltingly, gesturing around vaguely, “this is, uh, me.”

Aylar glanced back to him with a faint smile and folded her hands in front of her, drifting through the room and halting near his bookshelves, her eyes scanning the spines with interest as he tried not to notice how close they were to his bedchambers.

“No romance novels,” the Queen said mildly, glancing at him with another small smile, “how disappointing.”

Leonidas hesitated at that and then sighed as he walked over to join her.

“Yeah, I’m not really one for romance. Before the Incursion, it was called Romantasy, usually, and—well, those books aren’t really fit for decent consumption.”

“Why not?” Aylar asked with genuine interest, meeting his gaze with azure eyes he could damn near drown in. “I enjoy Terran romance.”

“Yeah, but you’re probably reading stuff like Pride and Prejudice, right?”

“...among other things, yes,” Aylar answered vaguely, a small blush forming along her cheeks and tips of her pointed ears. “Is that not what you’re referring to?”

“No,” Leonidas said definitively. “Romantasy is… well, some of it is fine, but some of it is downright repulsive. There are all sorts of terrible things in there, and while it was popular among women, I can safely say it was not fit for sane indulgence. There was usually some element of abuse in them that was disturbingly romanticized.”

“What, worse than an alien princess and a native man engaging themselves to be married after less than two months for the express purpose of murdering her rival to the throne?”

Leonidas paused at that, opened his mouth, closed it, and then furrowed his brows.

“Okay, well, when you put it—hey, no, wait! I didn’t just propose to you for that. I actually like you, Aylar.”

“Like,” she agreed calmly, turning back to the shelves. “Not love.”

“That’s not what I—”

“I am only teasing you, Leonidas,” the Queen said with a soft laugh and looked back at him. “I know what you meant. I feel the same; the beginning of something more, but yet to grow—I understand, intended, I do, but I have to have some fun with this situation, or I fear the anxiety will devour me.”

Leonidas hesitated at her words, once more, and then nodded reluctantly.

“You too, huh? I thought it was just me. I get these weird butterflies in my stomach sometimes when I look at you, you know? I don’t regret that we’re engaged, but sometimes I wonder how the hell it’s even real.”

Aylar blinked at his words, tilting her head in a way that exposed the smooth flesh of her throat. “Butterflies?” she questioned curiously.

“Oh. Yeah. They’re native to Terra, they have really pretty patterns, and they evolve from caterpillars.”

“...caterpillars?”

Leonidas paused again and then shook his head.

“Never mind,” he murmured. “The point is, I don’t regret this, Aylar. It’s fast. It’s really fast, but the trials gave me some personal insights, and while I know they weren’t real—hell, I’m not one to argue with signs, and even in the worst of them, all signs pointed to us being pretty damn compatible, even when the System was doing its worst.”

The Swordmaiden tilted her head at that and let out a quiet ‘hmm’, turning to watch him as he made his way to the table to pour them both some water.

“Is that the only reason, then?”

Leonidas turned back to her with the glasses and frowned, watching her features as they regarded him with mysterious depth. Even his [Psionic Focus] wasn’t quite enough to understand what she was thinking. Her mind shields had gotten stronger. “No, it wasn’t, but it helped clarify things. So did your dressing down in the bath, though I’m hardly complaining about the imagery it left.”

Aylar grinned at his words, but didn’t interrupt.

“The trials just… helped me see. They didn’t do the same for you?”

Aylar accepted the glass without comment when he handed it to her, deceptively delicate fingers wrapping around it as she seemed to weigh his words before answering.

“It helped,” she said after a moment, letting her mirth fade, “but I already knew I wanted to marry you. I made that choice, I think, after we met the Matthersons. You really don’t realize how natural you make leadership look, Leonidas. The way you soothed them, asserted authority, and even tacitly supported me all at once—it takes rare talent to do that. As a woman, I already found you desirable, but as a Princess, now a Queen? I knew I needed you to be mine. Our time spent together before the Rite, in the wilderness, only affirmed that more fully.”

Leonidas mulled that over after she spoke and took a sip of his water, momentarily glad for how easy System technology made dental hygiene as he tasted its reactive coolness. A single cap of liquid, a quick rinse, and everything was pristine again. He was glad he’d remembered to take some on the Delve and use some before going into the meeting.

“I guess you had things way more figured out than I did. Hell, than I do. I’m sorry about ambushing you like that earlier, by the way. I just felt like it needed to be said.”

Aylar smiled at him wryly when he apologized and sipped her drink, leaving the faintest smudge of pink on the glass rim when she was done. “You do not need to apologize for that, dearest,” she said quietly, her eyes locked on his intently. “I think it was very becoming of you.”

“So you think it’s a good idea?” he asked hopefully, watching her as he did.

“I think it is,” Aylar confirmed warmly. “It needs a little work, but the foundation is good. It’s inspired, really.”

“Kairi helped me come up with it,” he admitted, feeling the need to be honest. “She has a… unique view of things, being so disconnected from Dawnhaven.”

Aylar seemed unsurprised by that, and her eyes twinkled faintly.

“Your sister seems to be quite the proud woman. I look forward to getting to know her better.”

“She’s definitely something,” he muttered, and drew a laugh from the Queen.

“You should not worry, though, Leonidas. A King must be decisive, especially a System-avowed Sovereign. You were decisive, and I was quite proud of you for it. A Queen cannot afford to appear smitten, you understand, but a fiancée, as you call it, certainly can. I found your assertiveness quite… enticing.”

Leonidas choked on his water mid-sip and coughed at her words, stepping back and reflexively waving a hand to assure her he was fine as he caught his breath, his cheeks burning.

Enticing? Jesus Christ, Ace, get a hold of yourself!

Aylar hesitated when he stepped away, and the Queen stared down at her glass, frowning at it for a moment before speaking.

“Was I too forward?” she asked nervously. “I had assumed you have had female companionship before, and I know it was sudden, but—”

“No!” Leonidas said abruptly, cutting her off and causing her eyes to widen. “No, I mean, you didn’t—that wasn’t too forward, I just… Jesus, Aylar, you’re so incredibly beautiful. I’m still kind of stunned that this is even happening. You and I, that is. This. Us. It feels like I’m in a dream and I’m just waiting for someone to storm in, tell me I’m violating the Royal Person, and kick my ass to the curb.”

Aylar’s expression gradually softened as he spoke, and she gave him a small smile as she stepped forward, taking his glass and setting both his and her own down meticulously on the table mats, turning back to him thereafter and reaching out to take his hands.

“On Altera,” she began calmly, “marriage is not usually a thing considered until after a Haelfar’s fifth decade. In fact, for us Royals, it is sometimes longer. We are supposed to wait for the ideal match, or the one we choose not to live without. My Father and Mother were a love match, you see, and they wanted the same for me.”

Leonidas listened in silence as Aylar spoke and glanced down at her hands, his right thumb idly brushing over the oversized engagement ring she was still wearing as he mentally made a note to replace it with a proper one, before his gaze returned to her eyes as she continued.

“Truthfully, Leonidas, I was scared of this—of you, of us, of the entire endeavor. I was scared of being another political instrument in a long line of them, cursed to a loveless marriage and the touch of a man I could at best be tolerant of… but with you, I…”

Aylar trailed off, and her cheeks flushed with color again.

“With you, I feel safe, Leonidas. I feel wanted. I feel respected. You make me feel like you see the woman, the Aylar beneath the Crown and the armor, and I cannot explain to you what that means to me—to be seen, to be heard, to be respected; not for what I am, but for who I am.”

The Queen moved forward when she said it and lifted his hands, kissing the back of his right fist and looking up at him with her blue, blue eyes. “I am giving myself to you in the Terran way, Leonidas, because I want to give myself to you. All of me. I want to be your wife, I want to be Aylar Pendragon. I want to give you children, and live a long and happy life, and I want to be loved by you, and love you in return.”

Leonidas felt his own cheeks heating as she let go of his hands and lifted her palms to take his face in hers, brushing her fingers over the stubble he hadn’t had a chance to shave. “Haelfar cannot truly grow beards,” Aylar said quietly, her thumbs caressing the ghost of his own. “Yet another difference between our species. I worried, truthfully, if our genetic differences would offend you—my ears, my stature, my l-lack of hair—”

Leonidas shook his head before she could continue and met her eyes with his once more, his voice faintly amused, even as it rose an octave with nervous embarrassment.

“Actually,” he said to her with utmost focus on not stammering, “I hate body hair. It kind of weirds me out. The texture just… well, it isn’t my thing. Haelfenn genetics are kind of awesome that way.”

Aylar’s self-conscious expression melted into a warm smile at his words, and she bit her lip in the most feminine, girlish expression he’d ever witnessed from the Swordmaiden.

“I do not mind the idea of it,” she said quietly, her eyes searching his. “The… ruggedness of your species fascinates me,” she admitted further, with another blush rolling across her ears, which twitched faintly. “Is that too crass to admit?”

“No,” Leonidas said reassuringly, and moved his hands to cinch around her waist, drawing her closer to him as he looked down at her. “It’s a relief, actually. I don’t know if there’s any way to actually get rid of that, on my end.”

“The [Aetherium Store] has tonics and creams,” Aylar said distractedly, her heartbeat loud enough and fierce enough that he could feel it through her dress, pressed against him as she was. “Some of the Nyrfenn on Altera use it to emulate Haelfenn beauty standards. Judging by many of the Terran women I’ve seen, I’d say it’s already caught on among your people, too.”

“Aylar,” he said with a slight laugh, “are we really talking about depilation practices right now?”

Aylar blushed at his question and moved her hands to his shirt collar, gripping it idly. “It was relevant,” she mumbled, her ears twitching again in what he recognized as a nervous tic.

“Then what about what I said in the meeting?” Leonidas asked her instead, his fingers moving gently to brush her slender waist, feeling the musculature thereupon with a thrill that shot along his spine.

“I was honest when I said I liked the idea,” his fiancée replied sincerely, her cheeks flaring again at his touch. “I like it quite a lot, actually. Those Romance novels often depict the intimacy of marriage, you see, and I always fantasized about being a bride like the ones in the books.”

“Mm…” he hummed thoughtfully, bending to press his lips to her cheek, tasting the faint flavor of honey and cinnamon, mixed with the scent of jasmine, that he’d come to associate with the Swordmaiden. “Aylar Pendragon, was it?” he asked quietly, while his lips moved further along her cheek, toward her jaw, and then withdrew. “Missus Aylar Pendragon.”

The Queen shivered when he spoke, and her hands on his collar tightened, her breath hitching as she looked up at him.

“You are a wicked man, Leonidas,” she said plaintively, her lips trembling as she spoke. “A wicked, wicked man.”

Leonidas smiled back at her, his heart thundering like a drum in his chest as he bent and brushed his lips against hers.

“I know,” he whispered quietly. “And right now, I intend on being quite wicked indeed.”

Aylar giggled despite herself at his words, and she took in a deep breath to steady herself.

“We cannot go far, you know. I—I want a proper wedding night, Leonidas.”

Leonidas smiled at her objection, and his nod was sincere when he gave it.

“Trust me, Aylar,” he said in a voice he only faintly recognized as a growl, “there’s plenty we can do without sabotaging our wedding night.”

Aylar let out a whimper at his words and tilted her head, accepting him as he promptly kissed her and lifted her from her feet, his hands gripping the powerful muscles of her thighs before he turned and pressed her against the bookshelf.

“We can’t be long,” she whispered between fervent kisses, her fingers ripping at his shirt’s buttons. “They’ll be waiting for us.”

“Relax, Your Majesty,” Leonidas responded as her legs wrapped around his waist, and his hands tightened on her thighs, drawing up her dress. “They can wait a little longer.”

Aylar moaned into the kiss that followed, and Leonidas was true to his word.

No one disturbed them until long after dusk.