Harper
Anything beautiful, people want to break
And you are beautiful, I'm afraid
And you are beautiful, I'm afraid
Harper has spent the few days in the wake of the devastation coordinating, rebuilding, cleaning. Anything and everything that is needed of him. He is no King, has never been a ruler despite his ability to lead and instruct, and he knows he falls short in Maeve’s absence. There is nothing to be done about that until she returns.
Because she has to.
He can’t imagine any alternative.
It’s exhausting work, and he scarcely sleeps. With his entire family out of reach he has no need to slow down or consider his own limitations, and so he toils nearly endlessly. Interruptions are frequent and inevitable; citizens in all manner of emotional upheaval, guards, lost people recognizing him as a Councilman and hoping he will assist them in ways he cannot. Aidon, however, is an unexpected interruption, and the second he sees the dragon - still alive, which means Maeve is too - he drops his tools and does nothing more than catch eyes with the foreman to explain his departure.
And then he runs.
While Maeve is motionless, the sand upon the beach, Harper is an implacable wave that rushes to meet her. “Mae-bell,” he chokes, and sweeps her into his arms without hesitation. Though the sight of her covered in blood and a starlit crown is undoubtedly terrifying, she’s alive, anything else can be fixed. “You’re hurt, where are you hurt? Let me get one of the flasks,” he takes command immediately, parting from her only for the few steps it takes to retrieve one of the flasks filled from the Fountain in the city square, returning at nearly a sprint to press it anxiously into her hands. Only then does he begin to inspect her, hands restless but steady with militaristic precision.
Because she has to.
He can’t imagine any alternative.
It’s exhausting work, and he scarcely sleeps. With his entire family out of reach he has no need to slow down or consider his own limitations, and so he toils nearly endlessly. Interruptions are frequent and inevitable; citizens in all manner of emotional upheaval, guards, lost people recognizing him as a Councilman and hoping he will assist them in ways he cannot. Aidon, however, is an unexpected interruption, and the second he sees the dragon - still alive, which means Maeve is too - he drops his tools and does nothing more than catch eyes with the foreman to explain his departure.
And then he runs.
While Maeve is motionless, the sand upon the beach, Harper is an implacable wave that rushes to meet her. “Mae-bell,” he chokes, and sweeps her into his arms without hesitation. Though the sight of her covered in blood and a starlit crown is undoubtedly terrifying, she’s alive, anything else can be fixed. “You’re hurt, where are you hurt? Let me get one of the flasks,” he takes command immediately, parting from her only for the few steps it takes to retrieve one of the flasks filled from the Fountain in the city square, returning at nearly a sprint to press it anxiously into her hands. Only then does he begin to inspect her, hands restless but steady with militaristic precision.
But I would love you in any form you take
