Work Text:
Aranessa hadn't stopped shaking.
Julien thought, or maybe just hoped, that it had eased a little after she'd eaten. She'd curled up in bed without argument, beneath the druid-warmed blanket, but even facing away from him, he could tell she wasn't asleep. Her breathing had the faintest little shudder to it, and her grip on the blanket was a little too tight.
Julien watched the shift of her shoulders and the dense fall of her hair in the dark and felt utterly helpless.
It was so much easier to be angry. It had felt so simple, when there had been magic burning in his veins and a sword in his hand, and all he'd had to do was make them pay. Now, without anything to hit… he didn't know what to do.
He was Lady Aranessa's protector in all things, not just in body, but it was harder somehow, protecting her like this, from her own grief—
No. The problem, in truth, was that he wasn't trying to shield her from her grief. He was trying to protect her from his own failure, a failure so complete that he couldn't hope to take it back, and that was infinitely harder.
The last time he'd felt this helpless had been at Thjazi's trial, watching his father watch him with nothing in his eyes but cold loathing.
Then, at least, he'd still had his pride and the glow of being right to keep him warm.
Aranessa shivered again, a tiny little sound slipping out of her, something that would've been the precursor to a sob if it hadn't come from the Lady Royce. Julien reached out, instinctively, and then froze, paralyzed, his fingertips hovering above the curve of her ribcage. He couldn't bring himself to put his hand on her, not when she hadn't reached for him first, but he couldn't quite pull away, either.
She made another one of those heartbreaking little noises, and his hand moved without his permission, brushing over her ribcage as softly as butterfly wings. He didn't dare touch her any more than that, even with the blanket and her chemise between them, but still… even knowing he ought to, he couldn't pull away.
She flinched at the contact, her breath shuddering under his fingertips as her ribs rose into the touch, but before he could draw away and make his apologies she grabbed his hand and pulled it down fully against her side.
Julien had to stop breathing for a moment to keep from making some uncontrolled sound he'd regret.
She held his hand against her hard enough that he could feel the shifting of her breath even through the blanket, the softness of her flesh under his fingers. Her breathing shook, more obvious with this proximity, and with it came a high, barely-perceptible whining sound, thin and full of hurt.
Ever so slowly, he let his hand settle against the curve of her stomach, all too conscious of every twitch she made but also of Thaisha across the room, seemingly lost in thought but definitely still awake. Still, the feeling of Aranessa's quiet sigh under his palm was worth more than any judgement Thaisha Lloy could bring to bear.
Almost without realizing it, he found himself curling forwards, inexorably drawn towards her, until his brow came to rest against the delicate knob of her spine, just where her chemise gave way to skin beneath the wild fall of her hair. She shivered, but didn't pull away.
Julien shut his eyes against the sudden burn of his own tears.
He hadn't cried, really, not since that first night. Frankly, there hadn't been time— they were traveling as fast as they could, traveling towards the Orchard and Alogar and safety, or, probably, just less danger. Towards what remained of their family, his and Aranessa's, because there was hardly a line between them when there was so little left.
Julien didn't have time to grieve when they were still in so much danger. They needed to get to the caravan with, if at all possible, enough time to find Alogar still alive, and then the Orchard, to find his siblings, if all or any of them still remained, plus anyone else they could find.
Grief could wait until he knew exactly how much he should be grieving. Before anything else, they needed to reach the Barrowguard, because every day that passed without any news about Alogar just twisted them all tighter. Mostly Thaisha, of course, but Julien himself, too.
He wasn't quite sure how much of his fear for the young man—only a scant few years his junior, really, but between the soldiery and the years spent in the strange timelessness of the Orchard, Julien hadn't felt young in years—was because Thaisha would probably eviscerate him if anything had happened, and how much was because he could not bear to lose another of the people he actually gave a damn about. It didn't, he supposed, matter much now.
Either Al was still alive, or he'd join the long list of people whom Julien had failed. Either way, Aranessa had to come first, now and always.
Julien bit the inside of his cheek until he tasted blood, breathed in the spring-and-magic smell of her hair, and stayed as still as he could, only his hand moving with each of his lady's inhales and exhales.
Wordlessly, she ran her thumb across his knuckles, petal-soft, a startling contrast with the way she was pressing his fingertips against her stomach with almost bruising force. Julien choked back a high gasping sound and took the silent cue to touch a little more firmly.
He hesitated. It didn't feel like his place, but clearly she wanted him to touch even if it felt horrendously selfish, so—
Ever so carefully, he tightened his grip, pulling her back against him and wrapping his arm around her properly. She made a little sound of surprise, and then went liquid against him, something in her shoulders relaxing a little.
She started to turn her head to look back at him. Julien couldn't control the shudder that went through him, or the instinct to press his face more firmly into her curls until nothing of his expression was visible.
Aranessa paused and then, gently, laid a hand on his forearm, her palm warm against him. Against his will, a pathetic little whining sound slipped out of his throat, so quiet that he could almost pretend it hadn't happened, except that she was far too close to have missed it.
She gave him a heartbeat longer, and then turned to face him without leaving his grip, one hand keeping his palm against her back. Julien shut his eyes as tightly as he could rather than look her in the eye.
This wasn't right. She didn't need to be worried about him, not right now, not like this. Not ever, ideally, but now was an especially bad time to be distracting her.
"Sir Julien," she whispered.
"Go back to sleep," he whispered back, just as quietly.
She sighed, a soft puff of warmth against his throat, and then cupped his face in her hand, her thumb brushing across his lips for a fraction of a moment before it settled on his cheek again.
"Will you look at me?" she breathed, just barely audible in the space between them.
He didn't want to. He didn't want to refuse her, either, but that hadn't been an order, and between the urge to do as she asked and the urge to hide from this for just a few moments longer, the latter won out.
Her gaze, he knew, would flay him open, expose all the pulsing wriggling ugliness inside him, in a way that no one else ever had or ever could. He couldn't pretend, with her, not unless she let him.
He'd wondered sometimes if it was magic, and maybe it was magic in the way everything she did was just a little bit fae-touched, but the way she looked at him like she knew everything he was and ever could be—that was just her.
It felt like if he opened his eyes for her, he would be unmade.
"Julien," Aranessa whispered, so, so softly. "Please?"
His resistance crumpled.
There was still some nameless fear gnawing at him, but if she took him apart… there was no one else in the world he'd trust to put him back together, anyway.
Aranessa's face blurred in his vision, and he only realized that the tears had started to actually fall when she thumbed one away with the hand still on his face. He shuddered, but didn't look away.
The tears were coming faster, and Julien's breath came in shaky gasps that made his whole body move in jerky little fits as he kept his distress carefully silent—probably not silent enough to fool Thaisha, and the idea made something in his stomach curdle, but she didn't say anything and he kept fighting back the sounds trying to escape.
Aranessa lifted her hand from his face, sank it deep into his tangled hair, and pulled, just hard enough to sting.
Julien tipped his head back towards the hold, though it was soft enough that he didn't need to, and she followed the movement, keeping a tight fistful of his curls pulled just taut enough to feel. All of the air left his lungs in a low gasp, and his shoulders relaxed against his will even as his fingertips dug into her hip through the blankets.
Her burning gaze was fixed on him, visible even in the dim light, and he couldn't look away. He blinked away the tears to find that she was crying, too, just as quietly.
He reached for her with his free hand, and caught one warm tear on his fingertip before she tightened her grip on his hair and he let it drop again. She brushed her knuckles against his palm and then reached for the place where his pulse thudded quietly against the soft skin of his throat.
Julien swallowed, and felt her fingertips shift with it.
Even with the tight hold on his hair, he couldn't help straining against it a little to lean more firmly into her touch. The tips of her nails bit into his skin before she adjusted, her hand going flat across his throat, and gave him a considering look.
Julien kept from pressing into it through an act of will, but he couldn't help trembling under her touch, some strange fight-or-flight impulse filling his veins.
"My lady," he choked out, thin and desperate.
"Hush, Julien," she murmured. "Be still."
Then, tenderly, she applied just the slightest pressure.
It should have been terrifying, no matter how gentle. If it had been anyone else with their hand at his throat and a fist in his hair, he would have fought on instinct, but here, now, it felt more like an anchor, a tether. Aranessa watched him with some strange fire in her eyes as he panted shallowly, only as much as she allowed him to.
After a long timeless moment, she softened her grip again, and his entire body went limp without his permission.
His breathing steadied as he laid there, not letting go of her wrist where he'd reflexively grabbed it. She pet her thumb along the jut of his jaw, gentle and soothing, and he realized belatedly that he was tracing circles over her hip with his other hand.
She let go, turning to catch his hand in hers instead. He paused for just a moment to press his fingertips to her pulse point, then his lips, and then let her hold on, her nails digging into the back of his hand just enough to hurt.
With his other hand, he readjusted the blanket where it had gotten crumpled between them. The shuffling left her pressed close against his chest and the blanket draped loosely over them both, and he hesitated before he put his hand back on her hip. This time, through only the thin fabric of her chemise, he could feel the warmth of her skin against his hand.
She shivered, and nestled a little closer, tucking her head under his chin to press one damp cheek against the hollow of his throat and tangling their ankles together. It seemed like she was seeking his body heat, actually, and he didn't blame her; her chemise was probably too thin for the rapidly-cooling weather, but it was all they had.
Cautiously, he rested his cheek against the top of her head, feeling once again strangely out of his depth. She didn't move away, though, or pull him back by the grip she still had on his hair. Instead, she just sighed in something like contentment, ruffling the collar of his shirt, and he listened in silence as her breaths softened and evened into sleep, without her grip ever loosening.
Julien, for his part, didn't ever quite make it to sleep, but he matched his breaths to hers and slipped into some kind of doze. Thaisha was still at the door, and he was reasonably confident both that she was perceptive enough to pick up any obvious threats and that she wanted Aranessa alive, and beyond her Vaelus was keeping an eye on the boy. If Aranessa needed him within arm's reach in order to sleep, that's where he would stay.
Genuine sleep or not, it was certainly the most rest he'd gotten since everything had begun. Every so often, Aranessa moved in her sleep and the tug on his hair changed, and it kept him from slipping too far into his darker thoughts, alongside the pressure of her body against his.
The night, though, kept getting colder. Aranessa shivered against him, her breath coming in warm puffs over his collarbones, and he wished that he could do something more to keep her warm, but save for flattening her into the mattress, he couldn't do anything.
Near-silent footsteps padded towards them from the door. Julien avoided tensing up only by remembering it would startle Aranessa and maybe risk waking her, but he couldn't help glaring at Thaisha as she came into view.
She rolled her eyes at him, then pointed at the bed and mouthed, Warm the blanket?
Julien pursed his lips, considering it. There was a chance that it would disturb Aranessa, but there was just as much chance that the cold would do that. He gave her the tiniest possible nod to avoid disturbing the hand in his hair.
Thaisha carefully picked up the blanket, moving slowly to avoid disturbing Aranessa, and ran her hands over it with an incantation whispered so quietly that he could barely hear it. Aranessa moved impossibly closer, like she would have liked to just crawl inside his skin and stay there, and Julien pressed his hand a little firmer against the small of her back.
Thaisha, expressionless enough that it was obviously on purpose, spread the blanket delicately back over them. As promised, it was warm, almost to the point of uncanniness, but Julien was too relieved by the way Aranessa relaxed when Thaisha wrapped the blanket around her to be unsettled.
Thaisha, looking at something near his head, seemed amused, which Julien found inexplicably irritating. She pointed and mouthed, Need help?
Pointed at, Julien realized belatedly, Aranessa's hand in his hair.
He scowled at her, and resisted the urge to snarl at her about minding her own business. It wasn't worth the risk of waking Aranessa, so he settled for a tiny shake of the head.
Thaisha held her hands up in wordless surrender, the badly-stifled smile still there, and backed away. He heard her retake her seat with a sigh, and allowed himself to close his eyes again.
They were both warmer under the blanket, now, but still, Aranessa didn't move away.