Varziel held his queen in his hands, letting her drift off to sleep. He had gathered her into his arms, cradling her against his chest as if she were something fragile. His expression softened as he brushed a lock of blonde hair from her face. He could feel his face just flushing from the sight of her in his arms, in his bed. A few months ago, he had almost given up on having her. Now that she was in his arms, he wanted more. Calling his name was not going to be enough anymore.
He lay his bare back on the headboard, his hands absentmindedly trailing figures on Arella's arm. Firelight danced around them, casting long shadows on the wall, and even in the painful darkness, an unfamiliar sense of peace settled over him. "You're mine now," he muttered to the silent room, "just as I am yours forever." He was sure that her sleeping figure could not hear his silent declaration, but his heart thumped as he silently wished that perhaps she did hear his words.
