I may not always know what's right, but I know I want you here tonight.

What the fuck had Arthur and Morgana been on about? Croe was fantastic.

Fucking fantastic, in a way which made her utterly unlosable and irreplaceable.

He missed the hint of a smile at the corner of her mouth, unable to bring his eyes to meet her face. Her first statement, painfully off the mark, stoppered his breathing for a moment. He couldn’t exhale until her instruction sunk in some moments later. Mallos released his breath slowly, imperceptibly, as he lifted his eyes to search her face for a sign of any sarcasm or falsehood the rest of his family would have expected of her.

Finding none, the tightness in his chest disintegrated. The Arthur in his head backed up – not disappearing entirely but, for now, giving him some breathing space at least. There was a moment of silence while he processed it, trying to slot the one thing that had gone right into a the last three days of hell, before releasing Croe’s hand to lock his arms around her in a bone-crushing embrace. The guilt from minutes before washed away, briefly clearing his head from the fog of grief and exhaustion which had clung to him like a thundercloud for days.

Fuck anyone who thought he shouldn’t have her. Right now, Croe was synonymous with his happiness.

He loosened his grip, keeping one arm around her waist while the other found her cheek, brushing away a strand of hair. The subsequent kiss may have lasted forever if, somewhere in the haze of it all, he hadn’t remembered her order. He released her entirely, briefly, before taking up her hand again and leading her to the door.

Since bringing Ned here, Mallos had only seen him once, and then only for about twenty minutes or so. Ángela and Ned had been taken in by the dutiful and adoring members of his household staff while he’d spent the majority of the last two days obsessing about Croe’s comatose state. Being able to walk down the hallway with her now, hand in hand, still felt a touch distanced from reality. Ned’s quickly-assembled nursery was at the end of the hallway; Mallos pushed open the door with his free hand, not yet ready to relinquish Croe’s, and led her into the small, cosy room.

It was a plain room, previously a guest bedroom. The twin beds were still present; a cot for the baby had been hastily constructed between them. With the exception of them and the sleeping child, the room was devoid of all other people. A baby monitor lying next to Ned’s head indicated that one of the staff was keeping an eye on him from a distance.

Mallos gave Croe’s hand a gentle squeeze.

Mallos
I've learned enough to know I'm never letting go