Tithe

Every movement she made, every breath she took seemed to affect him to his core. If he missed anything about what she did, or what she said, he felt as though her would be lost. From that first instant he had seen her he felt the deep connection. As time had gone on he felt the tie strengthen; even as he knew, as he felt, her desire to push it away. The knowledge of her desire to break the bond broke a part of himself, though he could not understand any aspect of what had happened to them. Their physical closeness in the den brought him more of an intense comfort than he could have imagined possible. Never had he considered that he could be anything to someone, let alone someone who held such a place to him as she did. Tithe closed his iron eyes, a metal that suddenly seemed weak and fragile, against the pain of the thought of losing her and losing this.

She turned away from him, embarrassed he realized, and even just that caused his heart to clench in his chest. An uncontrolled soft whine came from his throat, trying comfort her from the unknown emotion that seemed to be battling in her. Instead she moved closer to him, seeming to sink into the heat he offered as a defence against both the real and imagined cold surrounding them. Once more he took a deep breath, swearing himself to be the sword and shield as she desired and required. Resigning himself to the chance that it was all he could be to her, denying that he should or could ever deserve more.

’You have no queen…’ The words stung. His body cringed with the mental blow she did not know she had thrown. His whole life had been spent serving. He held others above himself. To hear the one he had been fated for claim he had none shook his world. Once more she left him standing on nothing. Desperately he clinged to something, anything, that could be given to him. Finding nothing, he jumped into blind hope.

His eyes bore into her, his heart and mind racing. This entire time she had turned away from him, tried to find a cure, avoid him, deny him. Always until this day. The first day she accepted, he dared hope desired, his presence. What was his secret? His secret was not of his home, but of himself. The struggle twisted painfully within him. Breath was sucked from his lungs. How could he possibly ask anything from her? It was not his place. What are you secrets, Pandora? He breathed though it felt as though he were gasping. Mine is I want you… as my queen… by my side… like this...