Work Text:
Meret Windriver had learnt early in her life that tears did her little good. She still shed them, of course, it was equally useless to pretend she didn't, but once she was done then she moved on to finding solutions. Sometimes there were no solutions to be had and all she could search for was acceptance.
There had been no solution for sending Arel away. He'd been brutally honest when he laid out his reasoning and asked her to stay for Hakrium. Out of the Windriver children she was the only one who'd never commanded a battle field against Lutoria. Hers was the best chance of acceptance as a ruler and so she said goodbye to her brother as he went to offer himself as sacrifice.
She kept herself dry eyed when she returned from seeing off his airship and remained that way until she could lock the door to her room that night and sob. The arms she wrapped around herself were no substitute at all for his and the grief of what they'd had to do was a choking weight on her chest. But she loved him, and loved her country and its people so she cried her tears and then made herself at least lie down on the bed to rest. It would take days for Arel to reach the Lutorian capital and, if they gave aid - gods please let them give aid - then it would likely be weeks before it got to her. There was work to be done and she would face the day with dry eyes.
Her nights, however, were filled with tears. She waited to hear news that the Emperor had accepted their surrender and had her brother executed. She waited to hear he hadn't accepted and killed Arel as he knelt at his throne. She waited to hear he'd turned them away and was content to claim Hakrium once starvation and disease had won the war for him.
When the news finally did come she found it was something she hadn't even known to fear. The Emperor had accepted Arel's sacrifice and sent immediate aid. The military sized airship filled with rations had been such a relief she'd had to sit down hard, dizzy and sick with it. The sick feeling hadn't faded when she read the accompanying documents. The Emperor had accepted Arel's surrender and given him as a husband to his brother. She wasn't a sheltered noble girl, she was a daughter of Kings and Queens. A marriage under those circumstances was no more than a slave contract made to look pretty. He'd not do anything to risk the peace; she knew her brother. He'd walked into their enemies arms to save Hakrium and now he was trapped there.
Their parents had shown her easily enough that a marriage arranged under normal circumstances for a royal family could be bitter enough. Arel didn't even have the protection of a strong noble house to keep his husband in check. She'd seen, once, a bruise on her mother's neck that she wasn't meant to see. It was covered the next day by powder as if it had never been there but she knew what it was. Would they make Arel cover his bruises too or did no one care enough. His husband could set his teeth to his neck and bite him bloody for all the nobility of Lutoria would care about it.
He was already so injured, she thought to herself in despair. The airship crash and the pulse weapon had so nearly killed him and then their father's paranoia and pride had almost finished the job. She knew that he felt that offering his life was the only thing he was useful for and she hated their father bitterly for it. As if any of them needed to be of use to be valued but Sima Windriver had only been able to see how he could use people. He'd thought himself above all others, as if they hadn't been river travellers once. Wind-of-the-River was the family name when written in formal Hakrium. A remnant of her ancestors who'd gained power by keeping the waterways under their control.
She expected to have to give up her name but the Emperor had instead insisted she keep it and pass it on to her heirs. She'd already begun to think of herself by her mother's name and it hurt to give that up. The Greatsong family had been their best smiths for so long and it was a skill she had built for herself. Meret Greatsong was a name she would have been happy to bear but she would never see Great-Joy-in-the-Song next to her name now. She was, always and forever, a Windriver.
She was kept busy by the aid and its distribution and by the engineer fitting a message pad in her office which he assured her could reach as far as the Lutorian Imperial palace. That it existed was in itself was astonishing but that they had sent it to Hakrium was beyond belief.
She copied her agreement to the documents had sent and risked messaging directly with the Emperor. She wrote nothing that could be seen as a challenge but allowed herself the most subtle of disapproval. She regretted it as soon as it was done. If they took offense at her tone then it was Arel who would suffer. The gods be damned, she was usually so much better at this. She could almost hear her brother's voice in her ear chiding her for not taking better care of herself and perhaps there was truth to that. Your mind cannot be sharp if you don't fuel your body, she told herself. It was so hard to eat, though, as if months of ignoring hunger had imprinted on her soul.
In his response, at least, the Emperor did not acknowledge anything amiss and she gripped the edge of her desk until the wood bit deeply into her hands as she waited for permission to speak with her brother. After long minutes words began to form on the scribe pad in his usual neat writing and she bowed over the desk in her relief. It took long moments of wiping away tears before she could even see what he wrote.
His words didn't make as much sense as he she'd hoped. He spoke of respect and kindness and a man who seemed to be more suited to him to him than any person he'd met before. She was confused and then suddenly outraged when she realised what she'd missed. His husband was there. Reading over his shoulder most likely or even dictating his words.
With that in mind she kept her response polite and congratulatory. Arel would not fear punishment for her words or actions she swore to herself. When he wrote back saying that he would see her after the winter when she came to swear allegiance she had to steady her hand before she could answer him. A gift from the Lutorian Imperial family or a threat to keep her obedient. They needn't have worried. With Arel as surety and the aid already working its way to the neediest corners of her country then she would be obedient all her days.
That night she had a nightmare that started with her training master standing over her with his thin cane in his hand. He demanded perfection from her forms and took the cane to the bare skin of her upper arms until she was dripping blood. The dream twisted until it was no longer the truth from her memories but an image of Arel kneeling to submit to the cane himself. It wasn't their training master who wielded it, though, but a faceless figure in Lutorian dress.
She woke sobbing and could find sleep no longer. The thin scars on her arms were almost invisible to the eye but she could feel them catch under her fingertips. She focused instead on the marks on her hands. She'd earned those proudly at the forge as she walked the path of a smith. Fire and hot metal were not forgiving but she had learnt how to work them to create beauty. Beauty and utility. No blade created by Meret Windriver was ill balanced or dull even if it was jewel encrusted or gilded gold.
The months passed as quickly as a blink and as slowly as the path of ice in the most northern reaches of her country. She taught herself to eat regularly again, and even to take joy in good flavour and a full belly. A man from one of the smaller and newer noble families had come to kneel at her throne and offer plans for boosting their own food production. The Clearlands had been raised to nobility a mere handful of generations ago but the Baron who had inherited his father's title on his death knew his courtly manners well enough to keep from giving offense. He also, it seemed, had taken up a great interest in the agricultural work of his ancestors and the innovations he came with were a blessing. Clear-Growth-in-the-Land was how his name was written in ancient Hakrium and he embodied it well.
He was a handsome man as well, and unmarried. Once she might have let herself have a flirtation with him even despite how her father would have sneered at his low rank but she knew better. She had long since realised that her eventual marriage would be decided by Lutoria - how could they permit anything else.
Messaging with Arel delighted her and frightened her in equal measure. He still spoke of kindness and respect. He wrote that he'd recieved medical care for his scars and that his pain was reduced more each time they spoke. He wrote that he was falling in love with his husband and that he thought it was returned. Was there still someone standing over his shoulder? Often times his tone was free and open and even irreverent and she longed to match it but dared not. Could everything he was saying be true? If it was she'd kneel gladly for the Emperor and kiss his boots too if he required it. She'd never known her brother to be truly happy.
Hakrium survived the winter and spring brought the first of the new crops grown under wool and finely spun synthetic cloth. Rozan Clearland had laboured in the fields beside the workers who he'd gathered to break ground and work the earth to his will. His hands, when he took hers to kiss at court, were harder and rougher than she'd ever expected to feel in a Hakrium noble. He was immaculately presented, of course, in the bright colours and multiple layers still favoured but he was still unfashionably weathered by his work outside. Half the court, the more stupid half, disdained him for it but many saw the power he'd grown for himself as surely as he grew his crops. Hakrium had learnt the bitter truth - war was won not with weapons but with resources.
That being said, he did not favour court. He spent as little time there as was proper and more in the estate his family had been granted. It was land that had been scarred and wasted by war but he was gently coaxing forth life and growth. She visited when she could - the biofuel reserves were still too low for frivolous use in airships but she could ride in a sun-fueled carriage easily enough. They'd been relying more and more on the old technologies and the panels that took in sun and gave power were slow to work but they did not use resources she could not afford to waste.
Despite herself, she started to see him as a true friend and then, one day when he'd smiled at her, delighted over a little glass growing dome she'd forged a strong protective copper cage for, she realised her own foolishness. Lutoria would decide her marriage and she would comply but she did not have to turn aside happiness until then. It was unfair to him to even ask it but she wanted so much to have something for herself for a little while.
When she explained, blushing and halting as she'd never been before, he took her very carefully in his arms.
"It can't last," she said desperately "It's too selfish of me to even ask it of you. I shouldn't have."
"I want it nonetheless," he told her, voice gently "If a month from now Lutoria decrees you'll marry for their gain then I'll have you for a month. It's more joy than many get in their whole lives."
"It's not proper," she blurted out, humiliated by her own loss of control. She hated the blush that showed so well on her pale skin.
"I'll do nothing to tarnish your honour," he assured her and she realised with a pang that she was disappointed by the promise.
"I can't give you enough," she whispered and the tears she'd kept back could no longer be denied.
"Just a chance to love you and know you could have loved me back if we had more time," he whispered back and tucked her head under his chin to let her cry herself dry into his shirt.
"I love you already," she managed to sob out and it was true. How could she do anything but? He'd seen the ruin of Hakrium and the devastation of war and instead of hiding in his manor or parading his meaningless wealth at court he'd rolled up his sleeves and set to work.
It was a month later when the message came through from Lutoria. They would send an airship at her word so that she could come pledge allegiance. The winter was done, her country taking its first shaking steps back towards security and it was time for her to pay her share of the price.
It was an easy enough decision to agree to depart in a week and leave the court in the capable hands of the advisors she'd chosen for herself. It was a day's journey to the Clearland estate and she spent the time in the carriage arguing with herself. Rozan had been true to his word and, if they discounted the time spent chastely alone together, they'd done nothing that more progressive chaperone would have stopped
It wasn't enough. If she was going to have to go and kneel then agree to marry whoever the Emperor had planned to gift Hakrium to then she wanted more than memories of chaste touch to comfort her. She knew what married couples did in the bedroom, even if she'd had to practically interrogate her married ladies maid to find out. She knew it could be a joy and a pleasure and not just the burden of painful duty it was to her mother.
Would he agree? Men didn't come to the marriage bed untouched, she knew that as well as any Hakrium noble daughter should. As long as the bloodline was kept unwatered Hakrium noblemen were permitted far more freedom than noblewomen were. Perhaps one day she'd find the energy to rage against that the way she used to.
She arrived at his door after the sun was long since set and let him set her in front of the fire and wrap her in blankets.
"You're so chilled," he fretted as he chafed her hands between his.
"I recieved a message from Lutoria today," she told him quietly "It's time." His hands stilled then tightened around hers nearly painfully.
"Already?"
"Yes," she whispered "The airship is set to arrive 6 days from now, they had one closer than I thought."
"Then I have you for five more days?" he asked quietly. She nodded miserably and clutched at him when he stood suddenly. Instead of leaving, as she'd half feared, he gathered her up in his arms and turned to sit and wrap his arms around her in his lap.
It was the closest she'd ever been to a man who wasn't a relative and she couldn't help the thrill low in her belly or the little flash of heat between her thighs. He smelled good and his thighs were hard beneath her backside. It made it easier to whisper her desire into his throat.
"You've taken good care with my honour," she said "Is it - I mean, do you -" She had to take a breath to master herself. "Would you want more?" she finally asked.
"You must know the answer to that is yes," he breathed "Meret, if I could I'd marry you and take you to my bed right now." She swallowed.
"We don't have to be married to go to bed," she pointed out, feeling very shy indeed. That got him to draw back enough he could raise her chin to meet his eyes.
"It's selfish of me to ask," she admitted "but if I am to go and marry wherever Lutoria wills it then I'd like to go with memories of having you in every way I can."
"You might come to love your husband," Rozan pointed out gently.
"Perhaps after time," she agreed although she didn't think it likely "But I won't stop loving you. If its too much then tell me but I want the wedding night we might have had in another life." His family were wealthy enough that she might even have been able to persuade her father to approve the match.
He stood then, with her still in his arms and she rushed to throw her arms around his neck.
"Rozan!" she half scolded "What are you about?"
"I'll take that wedding night with you," he said, his voice low and urgent "And carry you over my threshold as I would have when we married."
They'd long since made sure the staff would be discreet and she relaxed in his arms. The heat was still there between her thighs and being lowered into his bed only fanned the flames. The bedsheets smelled of him.
The callouses on his hands were thrilling on her skin and she touched him as he touched her, exploring skin as their clothes were removed one item at a time. He was gentle with his touch and she could take pleasure even when she wanted to hide her scars or the still too prominent jut of her ribs or the silvered stretch marks at her hips where she'd grown suddenly as a young woman.
His body was hard against hers, strong muscle made only stronger by the work he did. His mouth was shockingly pleasurable against hers as they kissed. It was even more so when he pressed kisses to her neck and breasts and then when he parted his legs and worked his lips and tongue at her core. The orgasm was far more intense than any she'd found at her own fingertips and it was natural to draw him up and invite him into her body as she shuddered through the aftermath. He worked her to another orgasm with the thrust of his hips and the circling of his clever fingers before he found his own release and spilt his seed across her belly.
When the tears came this time, she had someone to hold her.
They spent the few days they had always within reach of one another. She had him in as many ways as they knew how and pressed the feel and taste of him into her memory. On their last night, as they lay naked and sated together he took a deep, slightly shaky breath and rose from the bed. He didn't go far - just to the table where she could see he'd set a short sword. It was sheathed in a dyed leather scabbard that was the rich deep burgundy of his family's lineage and the pommel was shaped to look like a spray of flowers, each set with a polished red gem.
"This sword belonged to my great, great grandmother," he said as he knelt at the side of the bed. "It was through her advice that the Clearlands were raised to nobility and we've cared well for her weapon. Will you wear it?"
She sat up in the bed and realised with a rush of love that he'd found the closest thing he could to marriage for them. It was a tradition too outdated for even the most traditional of families but, once, couples had exchanged swords to handfast themselves to one another.
"Yes," she said "Gladly and always. Will you wear mine?" She had only a plain blade with her but it was one she'd smithed herself and she knew its quality to be true.
"Gladly," he echoed, setting his lips to the crossguard before passing the blade to her hilt first so she could do the same. He rose to his feet at the side of the bed and she could see he was not quite sated after all. That suited her well and she drew him down into the bed and into her arms.
It was early when she left the next morning and she kissed him as sweetly as she could before she took her leave. There had been desperation enough between them and she wanted to leave the imprint of tenderness on her lips and his.
The airship journey was a blur. She'd been polite with the representatives of Lutoria who'd come to fetch her and taken meals with Captain Gavet who'd she'd met before transporting aid to Hakrium. She'd found a belt that worked to set the Clearland sword at one shoulder and the ceremonial blade of Hakrium's royalty at the other. Arel would have despaired of the arrangement but it allowed her to wear them both and keep her dress appropriate for a court event. She had to swear allegiance before any other act and she knew he'd be watching her pull the blade over her shoulder with exasperation. It wasn't easily done, she admitted, but she had practice enough at making the movement look graceful.
She knelt on one knee and placed the sword point down in front of her as she vowed to obey and protect Lutoria. The Emperor gave a speech, as was expected, but she could hardly hear him because Arel was there. He stood tall and strong at the shoulder of a man who must be his husband and he looked better than she could ever remember seeing him.
He looked happy even if he still half ducked his head to hide his wide smile in the way he always used to. He had regained his weight and stood square over his injured leg. He also had their mother's sword at his hip and she remembered that he'd written that it was given back to comfort him rather than reject him.
Finally, finally, the speech was done and allegiance given and she was being directed to a cosy recieving room by a woman who was so divinely beautiful she felt like a clumsy child in comparison.
"They'll be here soon," Empress Xxalia Lutoria soothed her in a motherly fashion "Not long now, your Majesty."
"Thank you, your Imperial Majesty," she managed to get out and the dance of titles might have made her smile except the door was opening and Arel was there. She couldn't have stopped herself even if she wanted to and he seemed no different. In three places she was throwing her arms around him hard enough that they staggered a little before catching their balance.
"Mer," he half cried into her hair "Mer."
She sobbed against him, dimly aware that she was making a very poor show indeed but if he'd been comfortable enough to rush to her so then perhaps it had been true all along and he was happy here. There were voices around them and then arms guiding her to collapse down into a lounging chair still clutching her brother. He kept hold of her and rubbed long, soothing strokes down her arms as he had when they were children. It didn't matter that she had scars there now, the touch was as comforting as it had always been.
When their tears had abated somewhat the Empress handed over cool damp cloths for her to wipe her face and took a tea tray across the room. She'd hardly had two sips before the door chimed and the man she knew was her brother's husband let himself in. He was carrying another tray and set it down on the table next to the tea before he reached for her brother with a fond smile.
"Better, love?" he asked and Arel nodded at her side, squeezing his husband's had before turning to her.
"Meret," he said, a little formally. He was nervous, she realised but proud too as if he'd been waiting to show off to her. "This is my husband," he continued "Theodemal Lutoria." He left off any titles as if they were unimportant and she was slightly uncertain how to respond. She settled with offering her hand as was proper and he bowed over it in return.
"I would be pleased and grateful if you'd call me Mal," he said "the rest of my family do."
"I thank you for the honour," she said cautiously and, although it was a very proper response he lost some of his smile.
"Xxalia," he said after a moment "I've a small concern I could use your help with. Can I trouble you for a moment?" And he gestured towards the door.
"Certainly," the Empress agreed and followed him gracefully from the room, leaving Arel and Meret alone. When she turned to him in surprise and confusion Arel was smiling happily after his husband.
"Arel?" she asked, hating the uncertain tone she couldn't completely hide. He opened his arms for her immediately and she tucked against his side.
"Mal's very observant," he said quietly "We had some misunderstandings early on and he knows that you'd only believe me if we could speak privately."
"It's true, then?" she said, plucking up her courage "Everything you wrote was true?"
"Every word," he assured her and something inside her unravelled into desperate relief "I've been treated with nothing but respect and kindness since Mal raised me from my knees. I love him, Mer, I love my husband even though our marriage began with my surrender. He's a compassionate, honest, decent man and his family have treated me well."
That was enough to start the tears again and she scrubbed her hands over her face.
"You're truly happy?" she couldn't help but check and he nodded firmly.
"Ellyan has a way of seeing how things will go," he said and she realised with a start that he was talking about the Emperor. "I'd be annoyed," he carried on "but so far it has benefitted me very well indeed."
"Then I'm very glad for you," she said firmly and at last managed to wipe her face clean of tears. It was so much easier to bear her own uncertain future when her brother was happy in his own.
"Can I call him back in?" Arel asked "I'd like you to be able to get to know one another a little." He gestured to the tray which she hadn't even noticed was laden down with food "We'll take some refreshments together and perhaps you could tell me how Hakrium fares?"
That she could do.
It was two days later before Arel betrayed her unknowingly. She'd stayed in the rooms opposite his own and taken meals with him but, for the most part, her new family by marriage had given them time and space. He'd invited her to eat in the family rooms and she'd steeled herself and agreed to it. The thought of sitting down to eat with the Emperor of Lutoria and his entire extended family was an intimidating one and she strapped on Rozan's sword. Arel carried his at his shoulder and she'd let herself have a good laugh at his expense over it but it seemed she would be permitted to carry hers.
They'd sat together and eaten and she'd surprised herself with how much she'd enjoyed it. The table was certainly full when there children to be fed and games to entertain the little ones while they waited. She couldn't remember her father ever allowing games in the dining room. The Emperor's sister had married a cheerful outgoing man and he'd drawn her easily into conversation when he asked about the smithing path she'd chosen to walk. They had finished eating and the children had been gathered up for baths by fondly smiling staff when Arel flicked his fingers at the sword at her back.
"That's not your work," he said, sounding puzzled "and not a family blade either, not in those colours. You've not worked with a short sword before either."
She froze. Surely no one here knew of a tradition that was practically obsolete even in Hakrium. As she met the Emperor's eyes she knew she was wrong. Arel's innocent question had damned her. Worse, it might have damned Rozan.
He knew. Somehow the man knew what it meant that she'd come with a sword at her shoulder that didn't belong to her family. She could feel her breath catch and shrink in her chest and a tremble start in her limbs.
"Mer?" Arel asked her but she could hardly hear him through the rushing in her ears.
"I'm sorry," she blurted out and was halfway off the chair to get on her knees and beg for forgiveness before Arel caught her arms and hauled her up firmly.
"None of that," he said gently "It's not wanted here, trust me."
"I'm sorry," she whispered and hung her head. "It's not his fault. Please, the punishment should be mine."
"Punishment?" Mal asked. He sounded confused. "No one here wants to see you punished. You can't possibly have done anything so bad as all that." His voice was very soothing but she wasn't comforted. He hadn't figured it out yet.
"Have you kept to our treaty?" That was the Emperor and she nodded her head hastily.
"Of course," she said quietly.
"And have you kept to the laws of my Empire?" She nodded again.
"Then," he said and his voice was unbearably kind "You have done nothing worthy of punishment. And nor has he, as long as you carry his sword willing. Did you think I would punish you for finding what scraps of comfort you could when you'd already seen the last of your family go to an uncertain fate?"
She had thought he'd punish her for it, or worse, punish Rozan and she nodded once miserably.
"Why?" Mal asked and there was a sharp edge to his tone. "Arel's been telling you for months he's fine and happy here. Has he written anything different?" So he really hadn't been reading over her brother's shoulder.
"She knew I'd lie if I had to," her brother sounded very fond but very sad "As she'd lie to me. And she knew what our father would have thought. Have you really found someone?" he asked and she couldn't answer him. If there father had been alive to know what she'd done with Rozan he'd have had her whipped and married her off before the lashmarks had healed. She'd only escaped marriage to someone he deemed appropriate by virtue of the war and the time it took up. He'd had plenty of men surrounding him who'd have taken on a ruined bride to get that much closer to the throne.
"Perhaps I should be very clear," the Emperor said and she finally felt like she could look at him. His eyes were very, very kind. "You have been the best ruler I could have imagined for any one of my vassal states. You have worked tirelessly for your people, freely offered ideas of agricultural reform that will all but banish starvation in my Empire and you have been the epitome of dignified noble rule under the harshest of circumstances." She knew she was staring at him, open mouthed in disbelief.
"That you have managed to do so while fearing for your brother and expecting punishment for yourself is a credit to your strength." he said gently. "You expected me to use your marriage to form a beneficial match for Lutoria." he said and it wasn't a question.
"Yes," she answered him anyway.
"You would have accepted the match, no matter who it was in order to please me and keep Arel and Hakrium safe."
"Yes," she whispered the word that time but it was loud enough and Arel wrapped his arm around her shoulders.
"And in Hakrium you found someone who mattered enough to you that you accepted his offer?"
"Yes," she said again "But before we even began we knew we couldn't last. He understood my duty as well do I."
"Sima Windriver was a man who understood duty," the Emperor said heavily "But not one who understood loyalty. Or, I think, love. I love my brother," he said plainly "I hoped very much that he and Arel would suit and I am very pleased to have been right. It makes me glad to say that Arel is becoming beloved by our family. There is very little I would not do for his happiness and by extension yours. That is a noble sword at your shoulder - is his rank insufficient?"
"No," she managed to say "He has rank enough. It's just, I'd thought that..." she trailed off. If any other ruler had taken over her country she knew she'd have been married for an alliance as soon as a suitably beneficial match was found.
"Ellyan won't do that to you," Arel said "I know it seems strange for me to say but I truly believe he wouldn't have married me to Mal if he thought I'd be harmed by it. I was frightened at first and it certainly caused some misunderstandings but I'm so happy here, Mer. I want you to be happy. Will you tell me his name?"
"Rozan," she said, surrendering in no small part out of sheer confusion "He's a Clearland. His father was lost in the war so he took on the estate."
"Clearland?" the Emperor asked. Did the man know everything? "The same family who are so committed to agricultural reform?"
"It's him," she said, "They're his ideas. Or, he says people have had the ideas for a long time but he's the first noble who's bothered to listen."
"An admirable trait," the Emperor said "And one we should definitely encourage in the leaders of our vassal countries. I am willing to order your marriage if you think it will ease the way."
She could hardly think in a straight line.
"If it would not be too much trouble," she managed to get out and realised it must have sounded ridiculous when Arel snorted a laugh at her. She had her elbow halfway to his ribs before she remembered herself and pulled back.
"Take an airship and go back," Arel encouraged her and she finally relaxed. Her brother would never have offered an extravagance such as an airship unless he was confident of his place and authority to do so.
"I've only been here two days," she pointed out "And it's rude to offer me an airship without asking first." He snorted another laugh and she noticed he didn't seem to feel any compunction about elbowing her in the ribs.
"You have sworn your allegiance," the Emperor said "And fulfilled every duty asked of you. The airship was always intended to take you home at your request."
"It's only been two days," she said to her brother and she was truly torn. The need to spend time with him was clashing with the stunned excitement rising in her.
"I'll see you soon," he said "I'll come to Hakrium for your wedding."
Her wedding. Gods she wanted to go now - felt as if she could run there with the only the energy of the delighted feeling coursing through her body.
"Thank you," she remembered her manners enough to say "Thank you, your Imperial Majesty." She caught his wince at that although she suspected he'd allowed her to catch it.
"Will you call me Ellyan?" he asked "I should like very much for you to think of me as a friend."
It was easily done now the fear that had been haunting her every move was gone.
"Thank you, Ellyan," she said gratefully "If I could, I'll take that airship tomorrow."
Where the journey to Lutoria had been a blur the journey back to Hakrium dragged for an eternity. The Clearland estate didn't have a space large enough to land the airship but the estate next door did and it was standing empty after the war. It was still an hour to his manor by sun-fueled carriage and she'd had the foresight to arrange for one but forgotten how long a single hour could feel.
Rozan met her at the door and staggered as she threw herself into his arms. There had been no way to send word that wouldn't have taken longer than she did and she'd frightened him with her sudden arrival.
"Are you well," he said urgently, taking her by the shoulders and going so far as to give her a little shake when she didn't answer, too busy drinking in his beloved features.
"Marry me," she gasped breathlessly. She'd run up the long flight of stairs leading to his door.
"Marry me," she repeated herself "Rule with me, live with me, make a family with me, Rozan."
"The Emperor?" he choked out and she grinned, giddy with her delight.
"He orders it, actually," she said then drew back in a moment of uncertainty "As long as you still want to?"
"Want to?" he repeated her words and she could see the hope rising "I want nothing else, Meret. Did he really order it?"
"Yes," she said and drew his face down to hers. The light glinted off the pommel of her sword at his shoulder. She poured every ounce of love she could into her kiss.
"Then yes," he whispered against her mouth "I'll marry you. I'll rule with you, live with you, we'll raise our family."
He gathered her up with an exuberant shout and spun her in a circle that had her laughing and gasping in equal measure.
"I love you," he said as he pressed more kisses to her face and mouth and she held him still to kiss him more deeply.
"I love you too," she said almost directly into his mouth. "Now take me upstairs. I've missed you, my love."
As he had that first time he gathered her up in his arms and she wrapped her own arms around his neck and laid her head on his shoulder. There would be plenty to organise another day but, for now, she wanted him to herself. They had the rest of their lives for everything else.