{ scene } you were torn like a road map and lost in the crowd

[cailisairgid]

After the sudden ordeal in the nexus, it's Ankhenaten who takes the princess back to her castle - where they have been undisturbed, so it's still anyone's guess as to precisely what happened to her brother that has her now seeping blood from an arrow-wound. There are magi and healers and fussing maids (not to mention Lonán, who takes up station

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[ankhenaten]

It's this that he hates most about royalty - all the fussing. She'd be just the same without the healers and the attention, he knows, and looks possibly more frightening than he's cared to appear in many years, particularly when he abruptly takes his shoes off and reveals his true form, causing a number of attendants to decide maybe they don't need to try and boss him around after all.

Now, up in the canopy, he lays with her - around her, to be exact - and sits apart, one of her hands in his, the end of his tail dangling off the side of the bed, sometimes curling lightly in agitation. It's the only way anyone might tell he's stressed, though, because he puts on his best calm and serene face for the princess.

"I know that you will," he assures her, very seriously. "It will be terrible and without mercy and all shall fear you and despair."

[cailisairgid]

In the silk sheets and cushions that mainly make up Nuala's frankly absurd bed, curled against one side not to bother her injury (that it's only one injury goes a decent way to soothing her, if not nearly far enough), she's very small and sullen for someone so typically statuesque and gracious. She nods firmly, twisting the fabric of her peignoir around her fingers.

After a long silence, she confides, "I would hate it when he went to battle. He's the finest warrior I've ever known. Only, he cannot be perfect, not always, and I would be waiting, and I would never know-"

Tensed, waiting for blows that might not land, unable to do other than have faith in her brother's abilities and wait. Put that way, it does sound stressful. (Times of war tend not to be easy, and aren't nearly far enough from her mind.)

[ankhenaten]

He reaches out and puts another pillow behind her - being on her side is fine, as long as she's upright enough not to encourage the blood to pool near the wound. Fussing a bit, yes, but what use is he otherwise?

"It's unfair that the anti-violence field didn't stop that," he murmurs, brushing one surprisingly warm hand over her forehead.

[cailisairgid]

As a rule, Nuala prefers to do the fussing rather than be the one fussed over, but even princesses don't always get everything they want and she's too grateful that he's here to make it difficult for him. "The field prevents what is wrong," she says, tilting her face. "This is simply our nature."

And she's quieter, then, because she knows it's safer not to tell, that she had the Brucolac's silence from him on it - but Ankhenaten is in a position to understand and she can hardly lie to him.