A Thing You Won't Remember

Romulus wrapped his arms around her, tucking the covers up over her but leaving her arms free. He moved his weight, so she wouldn't feel trapped by his bulk being on top of the blanket, and nuzzled her nose just slightly when she scooted in.
How did he feel?
Exhausted, mentally and physically. Burnt over most of his body. Headache from previous injury acting up after being out all day. Pent up, with a beautiful woman in his arms that he was not going to screw. Worried about her safety, anxious about his father, ainticipating more pain, guilty over the awful day…
"I'll be alright."

Romulus closed his eyes and made a deep rumbling sound when she starting massaging his head. The light pressure eased the headache, and he found himself falling asleep very quickly. He leaned into her kiss on his cheek, and only halfway responded when she kissed his lips.

Lear walked in about then, and Romulus was out by the time the Lieutenant sat on his own cot. He didn't glance over, just crawled under his covers and curled up.

Romulus was 25. His father was asking why the people thought he'd burned down Calegon. "I don't have time to put down an uprising caused by your stupidity!" A knife slid into his ribs, and he flinched.
Romulus was 23. His father was asking why Romulus was standing in his way, guarding women and children. "The only way to put down this rebellion is to teach them a lesson!" A spear pole smashed across his left eye, and he flinched.
Romulus was 21. His father was asking why a maiden had turned up claiming the child was his. "With a Venian!? You want to end our line?!?" The Oliphanut whip cracked across his legs, his back, his chest, and he flinched.
Romulus was 19. His father was asking why he'd appointed young, Venian nobility. "You're trying to make a statement, and I won't have it!" An armored boot thudded into his ribs, and he flinched.
Romulus was 17. His father was asking why he'd brought Lear back to the palace. "You can't just keep bringing back whores and prostitutes!" A firebrand sizzled on the skin on his stomach, and he flinched.
Romulus was 15. His father was asking why his reputation was so awful. "You're a Vespasian, and heir to the throne, stop visiting brothels and bars!" A baton crunched across his hands, and he flinched.
Romulus was 13. His father was asking why Romulus was upset he'd claimed a throne by slaughter. "If you're going to be such a woman, maybe I ought to make you one!" A blade sliced across his groin, and he flinched.

Romulus was awake. It was still dark in the tent, but the sun was just beginning to come up. He was breathing hard, but the sight of Elitia in his arms helped him calm down.
He was safe. She was soft. And his father wasn't asking questions.

Yet.

Romulus chuckled, his morning voice making the sound ultra-low. His chest vibrated with the deep rumble.
"Swearing first thing, huh? Venomous indeed."
He smiled as she buried herself in his chest, and he wrapped his arms a little tighter around her.
Lear was up and getting the camp ready to set out, so they didn't have much time, but… he'd take what he could get. Nothing ventured, nothing gained…
"Sleep ok, Princess?"

(totally fine, as you can see XD do well! :) )

She was grumbling, which wasn't anger, so Romulus smiled at her.
"You are to me."
He nuzzled her forehead as she sat up a little. "Slept ok. And I'll be alright. Just gotta give them time. How did you sleep?"

Romulus nodded. "Agreed." Usually, he slept well. Last night had been bad, but… well. Today was going to be interesting.

Lear came back in just then. "You're awake, good. Camp is ready to head out, just about. Most of the men are at least able to ride, though not well. A few will have to go in the wagon. There won't be room for everyone back there." He glanced at Elia.

Romulus caught the glance. "She can ride with me, Ruir won't mind."

Lear nodded. "I was kinda hoping you'd say that. Should make things easier." He ran the calculations in his head. "Those riding will be back at the palace in about 8 hours. The wagon might need to stop overnight, particularly carrying wounded."

Romulus nodded. "You and I need to get back today, as soon as we can." He looked down at Elitia. "I guess that's you too, if you're coming with me."

The Prince smiled to himself, curled around her there in the cot. They'd slept in the same bed twice now, been naked together, she'd bathed him and tended his wounds a couple times, and riding together was what made her blush?
"I'd like that." he said gently.

"Lear?" Someone called from outside. He stepped out, and Romulus rolled off the cot to his feet. "Well. I guess we need to get going. I've got my armor to clean up and put on, and you've likely gotta figure out if you've got clean clothes, and we should definitely eat before we get in the saddle.-"

Lear stepped back in, holding clothes. "Lily and Calvin saw how bad things were last night, and did their best to wash your clothing from a couple days previous. They were afraid to give it to you because they thought you might be mad they'd gone into your tent, so… here." He set the clothing on his cot. "I'll be ready when you are." with a nod at the Prince, Lear headed back out.

Romulus nodded. "Well. That's nice of them, sweet kids. Solves one problem." He touched her arm. "I kinda need that shift back…"

….Oh.
Well. What a way to wake up.
He held her eye contact, and only gave her the full once-over when she went to grab her clothes.
"…. Guess I really gotta thank Lily and Calvin, now." he said softly, his voice still deep from sleep. He pulled the shift over his head, still looking at her, before tearing his eyes away and stepping around the cot to grab his chain mail. He pulled the pants on, thinking they'd be easier than getting into the lower part of his armor. He glanced up at her a couple times as she dressed, unable to help himself.

Romulus was working on taking the cot apart, but was looking over his shoulder at her finishing up. "As soon as we can. Get your stuff packed up, I'll get mine, and we can get going." He mentally added food to the list. "Say… 20 minutes?"

He jerked his head in the direction of the north edge of camp. "You'll see Ruir, you can't miss him."
Romulus kept packing, tearing down the tent and his stuff quickly. He and Lear managed to get all their stuff in packs, which they could carry on them usually. Today, he'd leave the tent and cot with the wagon. It could be slung underneath and carried that way, since he wouldn't need it anytime soon.
He'd be stuck at the palace for a while, and he knew it. The fact that he was enjoying his last few hours of freedom for a while popped into his head at some point, and he paused.
He got going again, however, when the feeling of wanting this over as soon as possible overrode the feeling of being caged.
20 minutes later, he and Lear were at the north edge of camp, Ruir was saddled and the packs strapped in place. Romulus's armor was a mess, so he'd opted not to wear it. Lear had protested, but Romulus was in pain, so he didn't argue too hard.

Lear's horse, Tabor, was a fiery creature from the southwest deserts of Lothlan in Harad. He stood shorter than Ruir by a couple of feet, but made up for the lack of size in his attitude.
That all paled in comparison to the fact that his mane was literally flame, and his hooves flashed small sparks every step. They weren't called fiery for nothing.
In any case, he was champing at the bit to get going, and Lear looked to Romulus only a moment, before spurring the energetic animal into the woods towards the main road.
Romulus turned to her, and held out his arms. "We'd better get going." He intended to lift her into the saddle again, then leap up behind her. Ruir stood still, slightly crouched so it'd be a shorter mount.

Several things went through the Prince's head just then. He kissed her back, wrapping his arms around her waist. The thoughts in his head didn't match, though, and when he finally pulled away, there were tears in his eyes.
He didn't say anything, just lifted her then, up into the saddle. A second later, he was sitting behind her, pressed up against her back, arms wrapped around her.
"Thank you, Elitia."
And they were off.

Ruir took off at a blistering pace, and soon caught the horse. They settled into an easy rhythm, where one would lead, then the other. Lear and Romulus had worked this out years ago. It kept fresh eyes on the road, gave a chance for a rest on who had to set pace, and kept them from being super predictable.
Romulus had noted that Elitia left him space, and had gently pulled her back up against him. It hurt, but at the moment, he was craving the contact.
They rode mostly in silence. Romulus was getting into a habit of leaning his head down and resting his lips on Elitia's shoulder whenever Lear was leading. It allowed him to think, and again, he was craving the closeness, the gentleness.
Lear noticed that, and was equal parts happy and sad about it.
Happy that Romulus had someone to be gentle with him. Sad, because he only craved it like that when he was super anxious.

"Nervous." He mumbled, his lips on her shoulder making it easy to tell what he said despite his low volume.
He was worried that he was going to get hurt. He was worried he wouldn't be able to do the things he needed to.
But he was also worried about her.
Taking her into the palace was increasingly feeling like a bad idea, now that he knew for sure what he knew. But doing things differently than he'd done with other people would actually arouse more suspicion, so it might be their best option.