Vanya

The most painful devotion

"What has gotten into you in the span of moments? Are you hurt?" He grabbed me by my arm to be closer to him, his concerned eyes roamed my face, then my arms, my chest, my rising and falling chest, my aching chest; I think it caught his searching eyes, stopping them right then and there, making his own chest mimic mine. We were breathing one disappointment, one pain, and the same bereavement.

"Who was he?" He asked, his voice low and... hurt? I could not understand what it was or what it sounded like, but it was sincere, so sincere it made me utter words I never thought would ever escape my mouth.

"Everything. He was everything, he was everywhere, on my skin, on my heart, my veins, my chest, my neck, and I wanted him to be everywhere. He was so beautiful, and I was very much in love, then he was gone, and then it got lonely." I wanted to swallow my words, to swallow my tears and to stop breathing all together, but none of that was possible.

"I understand. I know. I knew the very first time I noticed you looking his way, it was so obvious it almost made me laugh, almost. Why didn't he stop your misery? What a coward." He huffed, as if my pain was his pain, as if my bereavement was his, and my disappointment seemed to hurt him too, somehow. Was I too sleepy? I could not believe that any of his act was true.

"He isn't a coward, he is just a man. And men often disappoint, they often sacrifice love for power, or safety. It did not come as a surprise to me, what hurt me was you thinking you could ever make me want you, in any way. You took me right out of the hands of love, knowing I did not want to be taken, knowing I did not want this union."

"I do not think you are aware of what you are speaking of right now. Or aware of your painful accusing tone. When will you realize that I saved you by marrying you? You were the only crowned woman, not the only successor. Your father never discussed this with you, I assume? For there is no other reason for you to act as if you own the world, unless you did not know. Wake up! I'm getting tired of your meaningless accusations." He let go of me, ever so gently, he was angry, but his touch was not, he was furious, but his eyes were still curious, still focused on every line in my face, every movement I make, every breath i let out. He was confusing.

"You asked about your duties, and I cannot accept that a queen who was ruling does not know the simple duties of a woman in royalty; plan a ball, invite guests, look beautiful, keep the house in harmony, and sleep to do it all over again the next morning. What's so difficult about that? Or do you need to mourn your lover more? I do not mind. I can always get a mistress who would do your job and satisfy me in other ways too. Either way, the choice is yours. Wife."

"Fuck you." I couldn't hold it, i wanted to slit his throat right then and there, he was using my worst nightmare against me, my weakness, and I hated it with every fiber of my being. I hated him with my whole heart.

"Fuck me all right. Fuck you too, your majesty." He was smiling, a real, beaming smile. I was honestly questioning his sanity then. Does he get excited by insults? By swearing? Good grief!

"I'm going to bed. And I will not be slaved away under your disgusting demands. So yes, you can have all the mistresses you want, I will not waste my skills by rotting away in your chambers."

"No. You will not go to your silly separate bedchamber, not tonight. You said you were lonely, and I know I am no soldier, but I too can talk, and I can stay, and I can and will listen. Don't go, this is an order." An order? This man was not being himself whatsoever, but the lonely part in me did not mind, not at all. I wanted to stay, but I would never have done it had he not given me a direct order... He knew my language, and I liked it, I really did, sometimes.

"Have you ever been in love?" I was suddenly compelled to ask, curious, desperately wanting to feel understood.

He started getting ready to sleep, laying down on his side and looking at me with saddened eyes and heavy lids, "No, but I did stand in the way of one." Those words hit my chest like a brick. He may not have tried to hurt me, not this time, but it seems that he always hurts me, no matter what his intentions were. Why did he hurt me so much? Why did his words affect me so much?

"You are cruel, you know that?" I said, with a defeated smile on my face, I think it was the first smile that wasn't one of disgust or hatred, it was simple; just a smile.

He nodded, closing his eyes and saying "aren't you tired? This bed can take us both."

"What if I attack you in your sleep? Kill you? Aren't you afraid of that?" I tried arguing, but found him laughing, it was beautiful, I don't think I ever heard him laugh like that before; maybe his peaceful sleepy voice was what made it so captivating, who knows?

"I would love to see you try. Now, can you please just rest? You look, to me, and you sound to me, extremely exhausted. So, come. Sleep. It is an order." I could not stop grinning, I believe it was the exhaustion that made me so giddy all of a sudden, I did not give it much thought, and I threw my fatigued body on his very spacious bed. It was warm, too. Nothing about this felt like loneliness, it was strange; this feeling of mutual understanding, mutual exhaustion.

That night, he made me realize that two lonely people talking made the loneliness less painful, less devoted, less present. Breathing was suddenly much easier, and I was experiencing the strangest forms of satisfaction.

"Do not think I am obeying your orders, I am simply choosing to rest, by my own desires." He nodded, opening his eyes to look right at mine, speaking of nothing but amusement.

"Yes, Vanya, I know. Are you cold? Should I call for more water? Do you need anything?" He was getting up, ready to call for his butler -I assumed- but I held his arm and he stopped immediately. He looked surprised, yet he did not move my hand away.

"No, I am good. I do not need anything, can we sleep now? I am getting sick of acting nice around you." He smiled, still not moving an inch, I believe he was afraid I might cut his arm off or something of the sorts. It was funny, really, but I did not have it in me to laugh then.

"Yes, I cannot imagine that it is easy for you to be nice, especially not to me." With that, he squeezed my hand gently before turning his back to me, ending this unusual interaction between us. I was grateful, and resentful all the same.