[POV: Solenne]
After the tense confrontation between Thalos and Ruvan, Solenne was exhausted. The three had spent several long, uncomfortable moments together before she finally had enough.
[I'm going to go to the room.] She signed to Thalos, who nodded and relayed the message.
"That's fine. We have a lot to… discuss," Ruvan shrugged. "Don't get lost."
Solenne shook her head and slipped out the large door into the corridors. She was used to traversing the woods alone, so her memory and sense of direction were reliable. It didn't take long for her to find the King's bedroom.
She heaved a sigh.
'That was overwhelming, no wonder you are exhausted,' Serai noted.
'No kidding. I'm already unfamiliar with interacting with people, but those two are especially difficult to understand…' Solenne admitted. She padded to the fireplace, whose flame had extinguished while she was exploring.
Solenne managed to coax it back to life with half-dried wood and a broken piece of flint she found under the table.
'If only it would burst into fire without me doing anything, like the first night.'
Perhaps it was because she had spent so many days there and gotten used to it, but whatever the reason, she was more comfortable in the bedroom now.
It was still old and dusty... but warmer, both literally and figuratively.
She moved to the bed and sat curled beneath the blanket, legs tucked to her chest, prepared to flip through an old book written in a language she didn't know. She found it on the floor when she was tidying up.
It didn't matter that she couldn't understand it, because it wasn't the words that mattered. All she needed were the few images that littered the pages and the feeling that she wasn't being forced to hide, alone, in a shabby cottage outside the Thornehowl Pack's central city. She felt… free, despite her circumstances.
Lost in her thoughts, hours passed.
She didn't hear the door open or even sense the shift in the air until his scent flooded the chamber. His aura and scent crashed over her in a wave.
Fire, cedar, worn leather… and a hint of spice.
He didn't say a word as he entered, boots dragging as though he had weights attached to his feet. His shirt was still ripped and had become half undone, and his hair was wild.
He looked like a man half-alive, his golden gaze hollow and distant
Solenne straightened, uncertain. Ever since their arrival, he hadn't come to this room other than to feed her or give her strange warnings when the voices got too loud.
He stared at her and flatly said, "You're in my bed."
She blinked, anxiety building in her chest. Was he angry?
Ruvan's gaze swept the chamber, as if seeing it for the first time—how she'd rearranged the pillows and lit the hearth, how it smelled of her instead of must.
"It smells different," he muttered. "It smells like… you."
He stumbled forward and collapsed on the edge of the bed, half-sitting, half-falling like he had no control of his limbs. One of his hands curled into the sheet, his claws barely retracted.
Solenne held her breath for a moment. She wondered, 'Does he need help…?'
"No," he snapped—and Solenne jumped slightly. It sounded like he was responding to her question… but when she studied him a bit more, she realized that wasn't the case.
His words were not directed at her. She could tell he was answering something else from the distant expression in his wild, golden eyes. Something only he could see.
Then he spoke again, "I just need sleep—a few hours. The voices are loud, and the gods won't stop watching. If I don't kill soon, they'll be coming for me again…"
Ruvan tipped his head back, teeth clenched.
"I let you stay here," he said, as if reminding himself. "Because it was quiet, because you were quiet." He looked at her finally and added, "You make things quiet. I need it."
Solenne hesitated, then motioned to the table, signaling that she would sit while he slept on the bed.
"No." His denial was sharp and immediate, although hint of desperation beneath it. He reached out and grabbed her wrist firmly, but not tightly. "Stay."
She stilled and observed as he lay back, his breath uneven, lashes dark against pale skin. The bed dipped with his weight. He released her arm once he felt she didn't want to leave.
"If I wake up screaming, don't run," he muttered. "I won't hurt you. Probably."
Solenne watched him for a moment longer, then slowly eased back into her place, facing him on the far side of the bed. She didn't want to be too close, but couldn't make herself go too far, either.
So, she was just… there.
⸻
[POV: Ruvan]
Sleep came in fractured shards.
First came memories of a man… a man who betrayed and locked him beneath the mountain. A man whose name and face eluded him.
He felt his name being cursed by mouths long dead and heard old voices trying to convince him that he was still buried, that the mountain never broke, that she wasn't real.
But when Ruvan opened his eyes, she was still there. Soft, unmoving, and watching him like he was something precious.
Ruvan exhaled slowly. "…It's quiet again."
He turned on his side, hand brushing over the pillow between them.
"I didn't dream… only heard a few things," he said, then paused. After a moment's hesitation, almost childlike, he added, "Thank you."
⸻
[POV: Solenne]
Even if she could speak, she wouldn't know what to say. He had only been asleep for an hour, and from what she could tell, his rest was fitful at best. For him to be so relieved after such mediocre rest…
'He must be suffering so much,' Solenne frowned slightly. 'What happened to this man?… I can't imagine…'
She reached over and tugged the blanket higher over his chest, then instinctively touched his cheek with her palm.
Ruvan woke and looked momentarily shocked, but his intense golden gaze softened as he looked at her. Ruvan made a low, contented sound—something between a growl and a sigh—and closed his eyes once more.
Solenne scooted closer to him, no longer frightened. His enticing scent warmed her chilled heart and sent unfamiliar feelings through her body. She touched his long, white hair and caressed it gently, noting how matted and dirty it was.
'He needs to bathe,' she thought to herself. Then, she looked down at her own blonde hair—it was in a similar state. 'Okay, we both need to bathe.'
A smile tugged at the corner of her lips when she noticed that he looked pleasant when asleep. His brows weren't creased like usual, and instead, a relaxed expression graced his pointed features.
Maybe he'd sleep through the night.