And she loves me; She's waiting for me
Two years. Two years and the war is at an end. He is weary. His father has died, he is king and his is not at home with his wife. He is in the muck and the mire and the snows of the east. But it is done a treaty struck. And he is to go home. It is another three months before he sees familiar forests and meadows. Their caravan is slow, many men on foot walking home, eager for their wives and families and farms. So he walks as well. The night he can see the torches lit on the castle walls, he leaves with a small group of his men. She is too close to him, to stay starved of her touch, her voice. His soul has been cleaved into many pieces over the past years, but the thought of Talia, of his wife has kept it together. When the guards question him he barely has the patience to answer with dignity. "It is your king, back from war and eager to return to my own bed. Open my home to me or my men will have consequences for you." The gates are opened almost immediately. He stables his horse and walks the familiar path to his and Talia's chambers. Will she recognize him? Has she grown use to living without him. Did she want him to return? Tumultuous thoughts plague him as he knocks at his wife's door. Perhaps he should have cleaned himself in the river before returning. Or even, bathing downstairs in the servants quarters where water could have easily been warmed. But it is too late now and Talia will be greeted by Gabriel with his long beard and dirty face, sword still sheathed at his hip.
