...rested. -- King's Chambers

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Date Posted: 09:04:19 04/23/05 Sat
Author: Saxom
Subject: ...rested.
In reply to: Serenity 's message, "C.onflicted" on 16:44:17 04/20/05 Wed

It had not been until sleep grew tired of tapping him on the shoulder, hauling him out of his chair and dragging him into his room instead, that the king could rest. Today was full of accomplishments, but even so, even more worries seemed to be delivered to his desk every time he turned around. And sure enough, when he emerged from his private chambers into his office, he noticed two things. One, his wife and lifetime love standing at his desk with a soft expression of carefully hidden conflict. Two, a stack of papers on his desk that he did not recognize. Which meant one thing -- more political conduct in the form of a scrawling pen and ink up to his elbows.

For more reasons than a few, he brushes the matter with the paperwok aside on a subconscious level. A small smile fits the shape of his lips as he strides forward with eyes set upon Serenity. Without a single word, he sighs deeply and embraces her from behind, in the manner of a man about to fall flat on his face without someone to support him. His head rests on her shoulder as he takes comfort in her presence.

"Good morning, love," he says with a slight, morning rasp. "I do believe your wakings and exits in the morning are becoming more silent with each passing day. Which, by the way, disturbs me, because you my darling, do not stir an inch when I retire from my evening's work."

Gnelty, he releases her and moves to the other end of his desk. "You are holding the final shower of paperwork regarding the Rethwellan patronage," he says, referring to the pile of paper in her hands. "It took half the castle's hoard of soap to get the ink stains from my wrists and elbows, but given our certain state of family proceedings, I would have to say that it's fair. If this family, our family, should ever have the misfortune of seeing Kavanagh at war, it will not be with our Westernly neighbours."

His face contracts slightly. No skill of telepathy was needed here. He needed not to read her mind, but simply the facts surrounding this surprise visit. Early morning. The sheer calmness in her body language upon his entrance to the room (usually depicting that there was very little tranquility on her mind) and her unusual interacting with the work he kept stowed on top of his desk. Ah, her worries. They worried him.

"Unleash your fears unto mine ears," he quotes in a near perfect poetic verse. With this, he carefully searches her eyes. "Serenity? You are worried about something."

And so is he. His own worries, however, would come later.

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Replies:

C.onflicted -- Serentiy, 04:34:22 04/25/05 Mon