Work Text:
Even the setting sun seems to drain her, energy fading as the light goes down in regal splendor that she envies. Her exhaustion is no regal thing; she feels flayed raw, siphoned for every last ounce of her soul by the long day. Hair sticking at odd angles from the general hurriedness of life itself, outift wrinkled from wear, her tired eyes find every last flaw to nitpick in the dying light. She shakes her head to clear the spiraling thoughts, trudging towards her apartment and entering it without the proper care it deserves.
She wants nothing more than to shower and flop into her nearby bed, to drown herself in the pile of pillows and blankets that has grown with every passing visit from her lover- who seems always intent on keeping her warm and safe and cozy; he is good at such things despite his outwardly rather stoic appearance. Boots kicked off and deliberately, painstakingly, fixed into their proper place, put away somewhere through sheer determination to just get through this one more task so that the day can be done, the weight of the day hits her in full force, nearly dragging her to the floor with it.
Strong arms catch her as her vision warbles with a swaying world, her nose doing the brunt of her sensory work for her by inhaling the scent of something woody and gilded, a temperance of steel under the soft blankets time and freshly washed cotton.
"Alright?"
She thinks he must have been talking to her for some time now, as her head stops spinning long enough for her to decipher just one word of his question. Safe in his arms, nothing else registers and she tries her best to ground her spinning mind and swaying vision to the tune of the steady beat of his heart.
Mumbling a response, a tired hum to let him know she is listening even as she makes herself comfortable in his arms, warm and secure, she feels, more than hears, him frowning and musters up what strength she has left to try and explain herself.
"I am..."
She starts, but the weight deep in her chest is more powerful than she had anticipated and she ends up choking out the rest of her sentence.
"So tired, love."
His little "ah", soft and tender and full of understanding, reaches her ears as she starts sniffling, trying to hold back the tears wrought of big emotions from falling and splattering on to his work coat- he does not mind the droplets, only concerned over their cause. He brushes his thumbs soothingly in small up-down motion where they rest, one at her shoulder and the other near her waist.
Shifting then, settling her until he is holding her more solidly to himself, her head tucked into his chest as he cradles her in his arms above the floor, he moves. They pass through the interior of her current home, of their home really, in silence. His heartbeat leads her into the beginning vestiges of slumber, lulling the exhaustion in her head into a more tolerable, cottony fog.
When he sets her down on the edge of her bed, or his bed, or their bed now? she hardly notices. He coaxes her into a sitting position, with her legs dangling over the edge and facing him as he kneels in front of her. One hand of his reaches towards the outside of her thigh, close to her hip, and he makes eye contact with her until she rouses enough to blink and nod, giving him the consent he seeks. Hand now laid at her side, grounding her with the solid heat of his palm, he speaks.
"How can I help?"
The soul that shines through his eyes gazes up at her, his thumb absent-mindedly tracing soothing circles into the plush of her thigh. His voice is only a whisper.
"Command me, and I will make it so; whatever it is that you need."
His left hand holds her right gently, massaging it with the same carefulness that one might use to pet at flower skittish foal. Bringing it to his lips, slowly, when she murmurs her response, he kisses it softly in reverence and promise.
Asking him to help her unwind, to help her leave the day behind, earns her more than one soft kiss as well. Tenderly, he slips off her jacket from her shoulders, using one of his arms to help hold her upright, knowing that the trust she places in him to carry the weight of her (all of it, physical and mental and emotional) is not misplaced. Folding it and setting it aside, he continues, until piece-by-piece she is freed from the work day and clothed for lounging and sleep.
He towels off her face and hair with a quiet sort of determination, neither speaking as the comfortable silence stretches on. She tries to start conversation as best she can, exhausted but warring against the shackles of manners ingrained into her over the years, but he only hushes her with a light frown and murmured words, encouraging her to just relax and let him help as he intends to. Closing her eyes, she does. A free fall into his care is perhaps the single most freeing, darling experience of love that she has ever known, and she takes secret revelry in knowing that he feels the same when thinking of her.
Brushing, soothing, holding, caring- these are the crux of her evening as Młynar fulfills his mission objective. She falls asleep part way through his dedicated endeavors, and is soundly in the land of sweet dreams by the time he is done. A kiss to her forehead bids her goodnight, and the hand that cards through her hair as she sleeps promises her safety, safe entrusting him with her love.
° ༘ ೀ⋆。˚˚ ༘ ೀ⋆。˚˚ ༘ ೀ⋆。˚
Waking in the new morning, the bustling streets of the city beyond their door humming to life as the dawn approaches, Młynar rolls his head towards where his love lays next to him. She curls closer, seeking him even as sleep tries desperately to cling to her, to cling to them both. He is, uncharacteristically, loathe to leave the bed, holding her tighter as she blinks awake.
"Breakfast?"
His love asks, just as he has asked her to, for what she wants, and it pleases him that she has such faith and trust in him that she can ask for the things she wants so freely- the knight inside of him always yearning for that ardent faith and path to usefulness. Still, the bed is warm and cozy and he thinks five more minutes might be nice. He acquiesces anyway.
"As you wish."
(Breakfast is served with a kiss when they both finally rise for the day).
