[ He'd maintained then, as he would now, that he made his choices deliberately and would make the same ones again; Jack Rackham lived to fight another day because of it, and he was satisfied with the bargain. If Daphne had done the same, maybe he'd feel differently. Instead, it was simply a careless turn of events that might have cost her life if one of those bullets had found a better mark.
Then again, he probably wouldn't feel differently at all.
Charles has never been one to overstate his feelings, but he wouldn't disguise them from her. They know each other; he wanted that so badly, to be known deeper than his legend by someone he could trust with it, and of the very few people who have managed it, Daphne is the only one who never betrayed him afterward. So why hide anything from her now? ]
I don't fear my death. But I fear yours. And I'll never stop trying to protect you from it - even if you slaughter an army of elephants.
[ What satisfies him enough is that she's here, alive, and will be whole in short order; well enough to argue means she's well enough to be moved a little bit, so he angles himself along the pillows and pulls them behind his back, so that he can draw her in to recline against his chest.
His hand finds hers, and threads their fingers slowly. ]
I intend for it to be well understood, that anyone who wants to get to you will have to go through me.
[She lays on his chest, and the steady thump of his heart is absolute comfort, quiet and heady. She just lets her eyes close, just a little bit.
He doesn’t talk about his emotions but he shows them as obviously as anything. The way he holds her now, the way he moves her to make sure she doesn’t hurt. The curve of his fingers.
The fierceness of his love isn’t nearly as surprising as the tenderness of it.]
Charles.
[She brings his hand to her mouth and presses tender kisses to his fingers, and then to his wrist.]
[ A blessing and a curse. The message he intends to send will get out, but so will others, built by gossip and rumor, and there's no telling what stories like that will provoke in response.
Or perhaps it's just that neither one of them wants to think of what would happen, should the full weight of a royal navy be brought to bear against them. ]
[She will bear her teeth and declare war, if a navy comes. They're independent, even the Mughals know it, and they will not bend for anyone, no matter who.
But that's not a worry for now. Those were hunters, not a delegation. They were in full rights to do what they did.
She takes a breath, and assesses her body.]
Most of the bullet holes have closed. I think my arm will take a bit more, maybe a few days.
[If she were a normal tiger, it would have been a death sentence, a good luck hit by a hunter who was stabbing wildly.]
I fear you will have to tolerate only one of my hands, when I'm able to climb you again.
[ What a fucking relief. The bullets had frightened him more; the arm might take longer to heal, but she's too strong to go down from that alone. And she's not as solitary as tigers usually are. ]
We'll manage just fine in the meantime.
[ He uses their laced fingers to tip her head back a little more, against his shoulder, and turn her face toward him so he can kiss her slowly. It deepens, but he doesn't press as hard as he usually does, as if this might be the thing that hurts her. But he doesn't let the kiss break too soon. ]
Maybe you'll have to tolerate letting me carry you for a while.
[When she kisses him back, it's with that same slow intensity, knowing that for a little while this is the most they're going to get out of each other. She raises her good hand to his hair, and closes her eyes, and keeps kissing him, her body pressing against his.]
I don't mind it when you carry me.
[She admits it with a flush, a dip of her head.]
As long as it's not where any of my people can see, when I'm not injured.
[ That makes him laugh, a low chuckle with his nose against her cheek between one kiss and the next. ]
In that case, I'll certainly do it more often.
[ Maybe he'll carry her to the bath and clean every inch of her beautiful body himself. See where else he can make her flush like that, and how many times. When she's just a little more healed, he'll do it.
For now he just kisses her slowly again, running his thumb along the line of her jaw, until the moment he draws away and their foreheads touch. ]
[Her heart hammers a little, like it does every time he tells her that. It's a rare thing, rare words whispered between them, and every one is more precious than a jewel. She doesn't reply with words, because there's no need.
Instead she looks him in the eye, her mouth just parted, a true and absolute vulnerability on her face, and she kisses him again, opening his mouth for her tongue.
When she's satisfied she pulls back.]
If I sleep, will you stay?
[He might not. He often doesn't, if he has other things to deal with.]
[ He brushes a lock of hair back from her face and kisses her forehead. For as relaxed as they both are now, there's still a part of Charles that half-expects another hunting party to show up in her courtyard, ready to pick up where the first one failed. ]
I'm not going anywhere.
[ It's comfortable in her chambers, with the breeze rolling up the mountain from the bay rippling in through the curtains. If she sleeps, he probably will too; even if he doesn't, he'll just enjoy the peace and quiet and the warmth of her body against his. But he's not leaving. Everything else can wait. ]
no subject
Then again, he probably wouldn't feel differently at all.
Charles has never been one to overstate his feelings, but he wouldn't disguise them from her. They know each other; he wanted that so badly, to be known deeper than his legend by someone he could trust with it, and of the very few people who have managed it, Daphne is the only one who never betrayed him afterward. So why hide anything from her now? ]
I don't fear my death. But I fear yours. And I'll never stop trying to protect you from it - even if you slaughter an army of elephants.
no subject
[She was afraid. So afraid that she’d die and he would hurt, afraid she would die and everything she built would be for nothing.
Afraid he would be alone again.]
I promise to never make you watch me die, lion. I promise you can kill as many men and as many elephants as it takes.
Does that satisfy you?
no subject
[ What satisfies him enough is that she's here, alive, and will be whole in short order; well enough to argue means she's well enough to be moved a little bit, so he angles himself along the pillows and pulls them behind his back, so that he can draw her in to recline against his chest.
His hand finds hers, and threads their fingers slowly. ]
I intend for it to be well understood, that anyone who wants to get to you will have to go through me.
no subject
He doesn’t talk about his emotions but he shows them as obviously as anything. The way he holds her now, the way he moves her to make sure she doesn’t hurt. The curve of his fingers.
The fierceness of his love isn’t nearly as surprising as the tenderness of it.]
Charles.
[She brings his hand to her mouth and presses tender kisses to his fingers, and then to his wrist.]
Certainly everyone here knows it.
no subject
[ The backs of his fingers stroke her cheek. ]
Word will spread. It always does.
[ A blessing and a curse. The message he intends to send will get out, but so will others, built by gossip and rumor, and there's no telling what stories like that will provoke in response.
Or perhaps it's just that neither one of them wants to think of what would happen, should the full weight of a royal navy be brought to bear against them. ]
How do you feel now?
no subject
But that's not a worry for now. Those were hunters, not a delegation. They were in full rights to do what they did.
She takes a breath, and assesses her body.]
Most of the bullet holes have closed. I think my arm will take a bit more, maybe a few days.
[If she were a normal tiger, it would have been a death sentence, a good luck hit by a hunter who was stabbing wildly.]
I fear you will have to tolerate only one of my hands, when I'm able to climb you again.
no subject
We'll manage just fine in the meantime.
[ He uses their laced fingers to tip her head back a little more, against his shoulder, and turn her face toward him so he can kiss her slowly. It deepens, but he doesn't press as hard as he usually does, as if this might be the thing that hurts her. But he doesn't let the kiss break too soon. ]
Maybe you'll have to tolerate letting me carry you for a while.
no subject
I don't mind it when you carry me.
[She admits it with a flush, a dip of her head.]
As long as it's not where any of my people can see, when I'm not injured.
[And another flush, another kiss.]
I actually kind of like it.
no subject
In that case, I'll certainly do it more often.
[ Maybe he'll carry her to the bath and clean every inch of her beautiful body himself. See where else he can make her flush like that, and how many times. When she's just a little more healed, he'll do it.
For now he just kisses her slowly again, running his thumb along the line of her jaw, until the moment he draws away and their foreheads touch. ]
I love you.
no subject
Instead she looks him in the eye, her mouth just parted, a true and absolute vulnerability on her face, and she kisses him again, opening his mouth for her tongue.
When she's satisfied she pulls back.]
If I sleep, will you stay?
[He might not. He often doesn't, if he has other things to deal with.]
no subject
I'm not going anywhere.
[ It's comfortable in her chambers, with the breeze rolling up the mountain from the bay rippling in through the curtains. If she sleeps, he probably will too; even if he doesn't, he'll just enjoy the peace and quiet and the warmth of her body against his. But he's not leaving. Everything else can wait. ]