Chapter Text
He lay within a fortress of his own inadequacy. Not a boy and not quite yet a man. Sharp eyes view every inch of the fortress that He has built and was destroyed within. Borne from a tablespoon of neglect and a cup of pain, there is something special about building a place that no one will leave alive. And yet, when He sees her walking along the halls and admiring the paintings, eating breakfast alone and combing her hair, He realizes that her soul has escaped the walls of this place. She is beyond the conception of death; she is granted love and protection forever by His own vow. Will He be granted the same thing?
She beckons Him for dance and for conversation. He grants that wish, too. He can only be Himself when they are alone. The sun never rises over the mountains that make up the portrait of their bedroom window. The hot sun in the summertime does not give him any type of warmth. The flowers in the spring and the soft rain that dampens the earth does not spark any artistic value.
The renaissance of His life has just begun. There is so much that He can do. Play an instrument, write a story, knit a sweater. Using nimble fingers to create nimble souls, while idle hands remain the painstaking reminder of everything that has come to pass.
His hands, full of lead, are not inclined to create. Nothing beautiful, anyway.
The snow that falls to the ground in the wintertime counteracts the warmth from the fires lit around Him. His fortress, His solitude. If her heart, her presence, and her mouth are the crucible, is there a way to melt through the mistakes He has made?
If you whistle at a trembling horse, it may buck the rider off. The risk is too great. Before He can even take a step He is calculating how that step is wrong. Before He can even take a breath, He is wondering who will initiate the final blow to His ego.
Her smiling blue eyes and soft blonde hair that entranced him and saved him from a lifetime of hideousness was all it took. It was her all along. She will be the downfall of an entire dynasty.
The nightmares will continue to come to Him. There are no interpretations of the blood, the gore, the dismemberment, and the proverbial loss that will take over the rest of His life on earth.