The steam in the sacred bath chamber drifted in slow, heavy curls, thick with herbs and incense. It clung to Tirian's skin, hot and suffocating, matching the tension tightening the air around him. His jaw ticked as his voice cracked through the haze.
"What is this?" he snapped, the words sharp enough to make the nearest priest jolt. Tirian's golden eyes burned into the priest. "Don't we only meet after the baths?" His tone was sharp, barely restraining his frustration.
Across the pool, Orielle stood stiff and small, clutching her robe with both hands. Her face flushed with embarrassment, her fingers trembling despite how desperately she tried to hide it. She kept her eyes fixed on the polished stone tiles beneath her feet, her earlier calm facade now shattered.
The head priest stepped forward, hands folded, trying to appear steady under Tirian's glare. He failed.
"It is the cleansing bath, my lord," he said, voice wavering at the edges. "Both of you must wash together. It is a test of restraint. A sacred part of—"
"Restraint?" Tirian barked, laughter dripping with derision. "What a load of bull—"
He stopped mid-curse as Orielle flinched. A small recoil, barely noticeable.
Something cold slid down his spine.
Restraint? he thought bitterly. Do they honestly think we're about to devour each other the moment we're alone? Hah what a joke! I've held my tongue for days. I've barely held myself together. And now they pull this? Look at the girl! Couldn't they let her know at the least?
His irritation sharpened, then redirected. He shot the priest a glare that could have carved stone.
Fine.
With a low growl, Tirian strode toward the steaming pool, refusing to shed his robe. The priests gasped softly, but he ignored them and stepped straight into the water, the heavy fabric soaking instantly.
He turned, gesturing to Orielle. "Come," he said, voice smooth with sarcasm. "Let's show them how well we can restrain ourselves."
The priest paled, eyes darting towards the other priests. His knees looked one breath away from buckling. Why am I the one delivering this? his expression seemed to cry. Why did it have to be me?
Orielle moved only when the silence became too thick to bear. She stepped toward the water slowly, her robe clinging to her ankles. Her shoulders stiffened as she entered the bath, choosing the farthest possible corner from him. She sank into the water, holding herself small.
Neither spoke. The silence pressed in on both of them, heavier than the steam.
Tirian dragged a hand through his wet hair, forcing down a sigh. Her discomfort wasn't helping his own.
"Look," he muttered finally, eyes flicking her way. "We're both uncomfortable right now. But this is supposed to be the easiest part of the day."
He turned his back deliberately facing the other way, giving her as much space as the pool allowed. He washed briskly, trying to pretend this was not the most awkward moment of his life.
"I was told we only need to be here for half an hour," he added. "So… just try to relax."
A small voice answered, so soft he almost missed it. "Thank you. I understand."
He glanced over his shoulder. "What? I didn't hear you."
Orielle startled slightly, then cleared her throat, speaking louder though her voice trembled. "I understand. And… thank you. For being considerate. Even though this is… the easy part."
Her robe stayed wrapped tightly around her as she washed inside carefully, almost nervous movements.
Tirian looked away again, heat creeping—traitorously—into his neck.
I wasn't being considerate… Was I?
He didn't like the answer forming in his mind.
When the ordeal ended, attendants approached with fresh robes. They dressed with their backs turned, neither daring to break the silence that had settled between them.
By the time they reached the royal chambers, the corridor was empty. Not a single priest or attendant remained.
Now they're gone, hah but they wouldn't leave us in the baths, Tirian thought dryly.
He pushed open the heavy chamber door. The creak echoed too loudly, It felt unreasonably loud. He stepped inside and paused. The bed, the silken drapes, the dim lantern glow, everything felt suddenly too close, too expectant.
What now? he wondered, casting a glance at Orielle as she slipped in behind him. Her face was pale, panic barely hidden beneath her calm exterior.
She was steady through the entire ceremony, brave, even. But now? Now she showing every emotion she hid so well.
He opened his mouth, unsure what to say. Words failed him. So he sat at the edge of the bed, elbows on knees, staring at the patterned rug underneath his feet.
Orielle remained frozen for several breaths before sitting beside him—straight-backed, rigid, hands folded tightly in her lap.
The silence swelled again. Heavy and soffocating.
Tirian risked a side glance. Her eyes were darting around the chamber, avoiding him and the bed altogether. Then slowly… her gaze drifted toward a table in the corner, her expression glazing over as though exhaustion had finally caught her.
Is she tired? Or overwhelmed?
Before he could ask, her eyes fluttered shut. Her body swayed, and then her head dropped softly onto his shoulder.
Tirian went completely still.
What—?
He turned slightly, instinctive alarm gripping him. He checked her breathing. Steady. Calm. Then placed his ear to her chest.
Strong heartbeat. Completely normal. She's asleep? Now? Of all times?
A startled laugh broke from his chest, quiet but genuine. He didn't feel the need to bury this one.
Carefully, he lifted her and set her on the bed, arranging her silver hair neatly but awkwardly over the pillow. He stared for a long moment.
She looks… peaceful.
What would it be like to feel that kind of peace?
He reached to brush a stray lock behind her ear. His hand hovered, hesitating. Then he justified the gesture.
She's my wife now. I'm allowed to touch her. I'm allowed to... look at her.
He lay beside her, propping his head on his arm, watching her breathe. She seemed too delicate for this world.
Fragile. Like a glass rose. Would she break if I held her?
He reached out slowly, cautiously, and pulled her closer. Her warmth surprised him.
Her scent… it smells sweet, this wasn't the same as the oils in the bath though... was it?
Before he could pull back, her arms wrapped around him.
One slid beneath the robe, behind his back. The other slipped came to rest against his chest.
Tirian froze. His breath caught and he swallowed hard.
What—? Is she still asleep?
He tried gently prying her arm off. But it only held stronger.
A stunned laugh escaped him. Of all the things he expected tonight… this was not one of them.
Not a fragile flower at all, he thought with amusement. A sly little fox.
He lay rigid for a while, unsure what to do with his hands while she clung to him like a sleeping vine. Exhaustion, heavy and relentless, pulled at him. His eyes burned. It had been days—days—since he'd slept properly.
Her warmth wasn't helping, there was a comfort she was offering in her embrace that made his eyes feel even heavier.
Eventually he gave in. Slowly, awkwardly at first, he placed a hand on her shoulder. Then, relaxing, he wrapped an arm around her.
Sleep took him faster than it had in all his troubled years.
Next Morning
Morning light filtered in, soft and golden. Tirian woke before he opened his eyes, feeling warmth against his chest. A soft weight.
Orielle.
He blinked sluggishly, disoriented. Her arm was still draped under his robe, her face pressed into him. A small, startled sound drew his attention and he quickly closed his eyes.
"Wait—!" she whispered urgently. "Did we—? Gods, I don't remember… what happened?"
Her hand clapped over her mouth to keep her voice contained. Her wide eyes flicked from him to the room, then back to him.
Her gaze landed on him, hair mussed, face soft with sleep.
"He is rather beautiful…" she murmured, barely audible. She reached for his cheek, a scar barely visible under his one eye.
His eyes snapped fully open, gripping her hand.
"Did you just... call me beautiful?"
She yelped softly and tried to pull her hand away from his face, but he pulled her wrist gently. A faint smile tugged at his lips.
Orielle's looked away trying her best to hide the red growing on her cheeks. "Well—you are—but in a… manly way," she sputtered, gripping the silk sheet tightly with her free hand.
Tirian let a low chuckle slide out, a mischievous glint sparking in his eyes.
She's flustered. And it's too easy. How... fun.
"Manly, huh?" he teased, pulling her a bit closer. "You don't remember last night? Worried you missed something… exciting?"
Her breath hitched. "I—I'm sorry, but I don't remember much," she said quickly. "So if you would please let me go…?"
He held her gaze for a moment. Her face was burning, but she wasn't terrified. Just mortified.
The warmth inside him surprised him.
"Relax," he said finally, releasing her wrist. His voice now calm, though a trace of teasing lingered. "Nothing happened."
He leaned in, lips curling.
"You fell asleep on me. And then clung to me like a vine. Quite bold for such a shy queen, oh wait... I mean fox."
Her face flushed deeper, but he lifted a hand before she could sputter a denial.
"I'm teasing," he admitted. "You were exhausted. I didn't expect anything."
He hesitated. Words he wasn't used to offering pressed at his tongue.
And despite himself, he let them out.
"Besides, I think you helped me too... That was… the best sleep I've had in years."
Orielle went still, then softened. "I... Helped?," she said quietly. "I don't even remember falling asleep. This is all new to me."
Tirian leaned back against the wall, arms folding loosely. "It's new to me too," he said, surprised at the honesty in his own voice. "But you did well yesterday. Better than me, honestly."
Her lips pressed into a shy smile. "I was a nervous wreck. But everyone was so kind. It helped me stay focused."
He watched her as she spoke, her hands fluttering slightly while she explained, her voice gaining confidence bit by bit.
He wasn't really listening.
Not to the words, at least.
He watched her smile, her laugh, the way her eyes lit up when she talked. Warmth unfurled in his chest, it was slow, unfamiliar, unwelcome but undeniable.
This little fox was wrapped around me all night, he thought. And she doesn't even know.
A small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.
This might not be as bad as I thought...