Guarded Love (COMPLETED)

Mother Issues

It was sad how long it took Alistair to realize that Reiss fell asleep in his arms. While her silence and methodical breathing weren't enough to tip him off, the small puddle of drool building upon his tunic was. Amazingly, she didn't rouse as he picked her up in his arms and staggered to his feet. It wasn't the best move in his life, his back angry at daring to put so much strain on it, and the arms being general jerks, but he managed to make it all the way inside to her room before she so much as stirred. Even then, it was only a small crinkle of her nose before she drifted off. She was more exhausted than she let on.

Laying her down in her bed, Alistair managed to yank her covers up over her before stopping and glancing down at the obvious silhouette of boots hiding below. Only cursing under his breath, he yanked those off her feet, re-added her covers, and then slid out to his room. He wanted to stay, to curl up beside her, to drape an arm over her stomach and accidentally engulf her hair in sleep. To wake with her as sun's morning light skipped across her face. But people would wonder, and question, and then there'd be lots of "Here's why this is bad for the country" meetings he was in no mood for.

Putting away the wish for something normal, Alistair quietly closed the door separating them and fell face down into his bed. He didn't have the tenacity left to remove his own boots. When he woke from a pleasant slumber and even more pleasant dreams, he found a few servants standing at the foot of the bed. "Don't tell me," he groaned, the ache in his head reminding him why champagne was bad. He never noticed how much he drank until the bottles began to stack up. "It's Satinalia! Everyone's waiting for me to open up their presents."

"No, Sire," the first servant responded seriously to his joke. "It is only Summerday, remember."

"Yes, I know, I was..." he rolled over, accidentally knocking an elbow into the nightstand and a shoe against the bedpost. Lifting up off the bed, he gazed through the door to catch Reiss standing outside. She'd already dressed in her armor for the day, but a sweet smile graced her lips that seemed to be only for him.

"You were what, your Majesty?" the second more senior servant grabbed at the sheet Alistair kept rolling on top of and gave it a good yank.

"Joking," he coughed, accepting defeat and sliding off the bed to land upon his still laced on boots. Maker, he didn't sleep in his clothes? Glancing down Alistair confirmed that he did in fact fall fast asleep in the damn things.

"Long night for his Highness?"

"I dunno, if I find him I'll be sure to ask," Alistair quipped back. He fumbled for a comb to de-knot his hair but snatched up a small pin instead. What was that even doing here? Oh well. Unlatching it, he tried to use the single stick to dig apart the mashed ends of his hair.

"Sire?" the poor, serious servant stumbled again.

"Another one of those joke things you seem to be allergic to." He tried to blink through the nests spiders built overnight in his eyes to catch a glimpse of the man circling him, "Are you new?"

"No Sire," he bit back, which caused the second servant to break into a few silent giggles. "Shall we bathe his Majesty?" the serious one asked.

"No we shall not. I think his Majesty can figure out how a sponge works all by his little lonesome." The old servant who'd been buffing Alistair's shoes since he first strolled into the palace politely coughed into his fist. Admitting to his past misdeeds, he added, "Provided it's not at the end of a stick which can grow slippery and be launched out a window fully on accident and not because I was sword fighting with it. Fair enough, Charles."

"I said nothing, Sire."

Whatever they were fussing with, both men abandoned it, stepping away from the exhausted but technically upright King. Their jobs were finished. "Sire, I believe the water is hot and the bathing room is open. Shall I accompany you...?"