The Gifts We Share [A Medieval AU]

Chapter Thirty-One - Kings and Hallways

The rest of the ball is consumed with dancing, partying, and conversation. Mark can hardly focus on any of it. Seán's words run through his mind over and over again, slowly driving him nuts. Every once in a while he glances to the king beside him and receives a small smile in return, which doesn't help the thudding in his chest.

Ken sits across from Mark and Seán, Mary leaning gently against his shoulder. The king, despite the late hour, still exudes a certain cheerfulness as he speaks with the two other royals.

"So, Mark, do you ever plan on going back to Rubellus?" he asks, leaning back in his chair. "It is your kingdom, after all.  I think all of us would like to see the rightful king back in his throne."

Mark shrugs a little. "I would love to go back, but there is no rush. I need to improve my magic and swordsmanship abilities before I even try."

Beside him, Seán looks down at the table, running his finger along the wood grain. His eyes flicker with pain for a moment, but soon return to their happier state. Mark glances over, but doesn't say anything.

As the night grows older, people start heading back to their rooms. Sleepy couples lead each other back to their quarters while others simply wave goodbye before slipping out. Mark watches anxiously, waiting for the last few stragglers to go with fidgeting hands.

When the ballroom is finally empty except for a few stray servants, Seán takes Mark's hand and leads him into the hallway. His hair is still ruffled and his eyes still sparkle, just like they did when they were dancing, and Mark feels the same breathlessness as before.

"Mark, I... um..." Seán begins, gesturing aimlessly with his free hand. "That dance... I should have just..."

Mark grins, leaning into the king ever so slightly. "You should have just what?"

The king glances around, and upon realizing that the hallway is completely void of servants, guards, and royals alike, turns back to Mark. When he starts stammering, the farmer's smile grows larger.

"At a loss for words, Seán?"

The king stares at Mark for a second longer before pulling him in, pressing a kiss to the farmer's lips. Mark's heart nearly pounds out of his chest as he pulls Seán closer, bursting with joy. Finally. Finally! Mark's magic thrums in his veins, warm and excited by his connection with the royal.

When they separate, Seán is grinning from ear to ear. Mark smiles back, breathless from both the kiss and the expression on the king's face. For a few seconds there's silence, but it's the best silence in Mark's opinion. Neither of them can think of anything to say, but the farmer doesn't care. They don't need to say a word. Their actions speak for themselves.

"I guess this is goodnight," Mark says finally, although he hates the thought of leaving Seán's side for even a second.

The look on the king's face conveys the same thoughts. "I guess so." He pauses for a moment, looking down at his feet before returning his gaze to Mark. "We'll talk tomorrow."

The farmer takes Seán's chin between his finger and thumb, a teasing grin on his face. "I'd be more surprised if we didn't talk, your highness."

The king turns bright red. "You have a point."

Mark grins and lowers his hand back to his side. "Goodnight, Seán."

"Goodnight."

The king presses one last kiss to the farmer's knuckles before departing to his bedroom. Mark watches him go, smiling incredulously, before going to run his fingers through his hair. He knocks his crown off and manages to catch it before it hits the ground, laughing from his own sheer silliness.

He moves up to his bedroom, feeling dazed and giddy and incredibly cheerful. He has no idea how he's going to sleep tonight. He feels way too pumped up to be able to rest.

He enters his room and moves to his closet, discarding the fancy partying clothes.  As he does, he catches a glimpse of a shadowy figure move outside of his window.  He jumps, but upon inspection figures it was just a bird flying past and his excited, frazzled mind. 

He changes into pyjamas and crawls into bed, but his eyes don't want to close. He doesn't want to sleep. He wants to get out of bed, find Seán, and stick by his side until some outside force yanks them apart. His brain won't stop racing, and eventually Mark gets tired of lying awake with his thoughts. The later it gets, the darker they get, and he doesn't want to sink into another depressive state after having such a good day.

"Knock me out, please," he murmurs to his magic. Red starts twisting around his hand, and before he knows it, he's asleep.