These were not quite the scars she thought she'd have soon. She thought they might have been something more mighty, more worthy of song. 

She supposes that having to grapple with one's dark side once a month is an apt enough metaphor. 

"I asked Pelor, if this can be my penance. He said no."

Her mouth twists in annoyance, as if the Lord of all gods should have granted her permission, as if He is a particularly adored and strict teacher. The same look she had when she challenged Aurophantus (though he didn't see it, he can imagine what it looked like.)

She looks tired too. She is no stranger to pain of that measure, but she doesn't remember it. Her body locked up before she remembered she was allowed to scream this time. 

Even he blinks at that. 

Then he sighs. 

"I- look, I'm not a priest, but I see- I forget you didn't grow up in the Church. It's not - it's not about the pain." He looks at her with his eyes blazing, more silvery than she's seen them before, as though if she looked close enough she could see stars in the blue. "It's more like - what you do every day, what you do for me, for everyone, that's penance. It was always going to hurt, but not - not like this." He's not the biggest reader but he's sure actually Talloran's told stories of people being redeemed through suffering, he might be wrong here but he's fairly sure he's not - "You'll be all right." He sounds like he believes every word of it. 

A furrow appears in her brow, and she touches his face, one finger rapping on his brow gently. "You're very wise, you know. Wiser than I am. Or perhaps I am used to more cruel gods."

Her hand feels through his hair, nails scratching at the nape of his neck in that way that makes him purr. "You'll be alright too, you know. Ophel told me they've been to ask the Hand of Heaven to send us troops, and he asked for their blessing upon Voltur. I never really asked, you know, what you wanted. What did you dream of, when you were little?" 

His eyes half-close. On second thought he's still not going to ask about what she was taught, growing up. 

When she asks him that question he twists to look at her. The strength is coming back to her already, maybe more than before, the colour returning to her cheeks and the power to her limbs. "Battle. I wanted to fight, joust - I always liked the stories of the bravest knights. Chivalry and high adventure and keeping the world safe when it was young."

Raina smiles and really can't help it; boys will be boys forever, it seems. She had dreamed of a love to sweep her away from Aunty, when she was little. 

"The world is already older than time has known, Car. Would you still keep it safe? Even when it cuts you?" 

Yeah. He was a little late, sorry. 

And he says:

"Of course."

As though no other thought would ever enter his head. 

There is no other word for the love that shines in her eyes in that moment; she is smitten. His tenderness, his righteousness, it surprises her every single time. She loves it; her favourite part of him, and she is always surprised that he can be better. 

Raina takes his hand and presses a kiss to his knuckles, perfect porcelain skin; alabaster strength. "I thank the gods every day that you never lost your light for this world. That you never suffered enough to let it wink out." 

He puts his thumb on her chin and traces fingertips up the line of her jaw. 

What can he say, to something like that? She always makes him feel like - like this, more real, more grounded, it's only in battle or with her that the constant sense that he should be doing something, making a name, being important falls silent. 

"I love you."

Her eyes soften, pools of that expensive fragrant coffee that she favours on early mornings. They morph, under his gaze, from cunning and scheming to softness and devotion.

"I love you. Could you love a life of royalty, if it happens?" 

He scratches his chin. "I never really thought about it until - well, you know. I knew my father was a likely choice of heir, I knew it might happen, but it never really occurred to me to think about it. I think..."

It had been so strange. It had felt right in some deep way to be king, even when he thought his father was dead, even when Ophel told him he was dying - and then it had all been ripped away.

...And that was better. He hadn't realised, but-

"I think I'd need you. On my side, I mean. As Queen. But together - yes."

She takes his hand, holding both of them clasped in hers, and looks intently into his eyes. "We don't have to. We can ask Dad to name someone else. We don't have to do anything, my love. We can galivant around the world and fight monsters and spend money on frivolous things and give the locals stories for when they have people come into town."

Raina's eyes shine, her smile quiet and all the more beautiful for it. "We can be whoever we want to be."

She needs him to know this. That this freedom he has given her... he can have for himself too. That she'll be with him no matter what. 

He meets her gaze evenly as he presses a kiss to her hands. "I know. I - want that, sometimes. But-"

He swallows. 

"I- sometimes I feel - like I need to be doing something important, and I'm not." It sounds pathetic to say out loud. He says it anyway. 

She frowns at him, the way she does when he's being stupid on purpose. 

Then she pauses. It must have been different, for him to have been running to something his whole life, chasing something that he hasn't managed to find. She's just been running away for most of hers. 

"Do you want to do something important? Or is it the fact that people built a myth around you and expect you to do something important?" 

"I-" I don't know.

"I don't care what other people expect of me, not really. I want to do right by them, but it's not like I ever promised anything. I just- I just have this nagging sense that I should."

She cups his face, drawing him closer. "Why? Whose voice does it speak in?" 

"I-"

An awful shudder runs through him. 

"I don't know."

In this light there's something in his eyes that wasn't there before, a sheen or a glitter.

"Come back to me." The command resonates with the power of a queen, with one linked to the Song of Creation and used to pulling back good hearts from the vestiges of despair.

"Come back to me, my love, and tell me why this has pushed you so many years." 

He shakes himself - too quickly, actually, it breaks Raina's gentle grip on his face - and then his eyes are clear again. 

"Er."

Well, this is... going to be a difficult conversation. 

"Sorry." He takes her hand again, holds it in his lap. "I've never talked about this properly before."

He sighs.

"I'm... not as stupid as people think, you know. I knew there was something dad was hiding about my mother, makes sense that it has something to do with -" rather than describe it he's just going to scoop her up into his lap effortlessly with one hand. "That. I just thought I'd ignore it, seemed like the best thing to do. But ever since I found out the truth... I don't know. I don't know how much is just... me... and how much of it I get from her. But - if I had to guess - that might have something to do with it. Might not be just my body that isn't... human."

She thinks on this for a moment, brushing fingertips over his knuckles. "The darkness that lives in me is a terrible thing. But without it I would not be able to fight the way I do. It is still part of me, and always will be. I think... it's still a part of you, and always has been. No matter where it comes from." 

"Maybe." He smiles softly. It's always so simple when she says it. 

It's only when she's gone that - he cuts that thought off. 

"If... if we didn't- I think probably I will be heir to the throne. It would be... safer. But... if we weren't, if, I don't know, if there were another - what exactly would you want to do, together? Where would you want to go?"

She pauses. "Somewhere warmer than this, that's certain. Winter doesn't agree with me."

Where would she go, away from her friends? From Ophel and Flint and Omega? From Voltur ?

She shifts, sheepish. "Maybe we travel and then we come back. I don't want your father to think he can be rid of me at any point." 

He smiles. "I... All right, you're going to think I've gone soft, but I... really wanted to hear that. Didn't want you to feel like you had to come back, like I wouldn't go anywhere with you."

She holds his hands clasped between hers like a beggar kneels at church. Like it is the holiest thing she can come across, like it connects her to Heaven just to hold him like this. As if touching him is devotion. As if it is sacred service. 

To her, it is. To Her, it is too. 

"If there's one thing I am certain of, it's that you would follow me anywhere."

Gone is the scared girl desperate for love and family. The strength that shines out of her makes him imagine a queen, worthy of his throne. 

Worthy of his heart. She always has been. It's just that now she believes it too. 

He smiles down at her, radiant - and in her eyes he can see the stars over alien skies and all the lands and seas he ever wanted to see, and he knows in that moment-

His hand tightens on hers-

"You should be my Queen, you know," he murmurs, and his eyes are far, far away.

Her words are carried on a whisper, a sliver of a smile, the kiss of a teardrop on familiar skin.

"I will be."