The Gifts We Share [A Medieval AU]

Chapter Forty - Confessions

 The next time Mark wakes up, he's back in his room. He jolts and sends floods of pain through his body, causing him to groan and lie back down. A hand tightens around his, and although he tenses at first, he loosens up when he realizes that it's Seán.

The king sits at his bedside, concern in his tired eyes. His hair is dishevelled beneath the crown that slowly slips off his head, and his clothes are the same he had been wearing the day he rescued Mark. He smiles, the gesture weak and exhausted.

Mark takes a few deep breaths, calming himself down and letting himself adjust to the room before speaking. "Um, how... how long...?"

"Since you got kidnapped? Eight. Since you woke up last? Two," Seán replies, rubbing his thumb back and forth over Mark's hand. Dark bags rest under his eyes, and he rubs at them absentmindedly with his free hand.

"Oh..." Mark takes a deep breath and pulls Seán's cloak around his shoulders, lost in thought.

"One of your ribs was broken when we found you. I fixed it with my magic, but it was still pretty bad," Seán says softly. His eyelids are heavy as the corner of his mouth manages to turn up into a small smile. "Most of your internal injuries have been healed. The bruises will hurt less with time."

Mark nods slightly, pulling his mind back to the present before it can sink too far into the dark memories. He glances at Seán again, the ache in his body mixing with a stab of worry. "Seán...?"

"Yes?"

"I tried to use my magic..."

"I know."

Mark blinks a few times, looking surprised, before continuing. "It hurt."

Seán grasps his hand a little tighter. "Magic is heavily connected to your heart and emotions. It feels your pain and reflects it back." He pauses in order to take a deep breath. "I...got your message."

Mark's eyes widen significantly and he snaps in Seán's direction, sending a stinging pain through his entire body. He winces, but the pain doesn't deter him from speaking again. "I-I'm sorry Seán, it was probably too straight forward and I was scared and you probably think I'm ridiculous but I figured that if I was going to die-"

"Mark." The king's voice stops his rambling in an instant. "I was so afraid that I would get to you and it would be too late, but now that you're here..." He opens and closes his mouth a few times before squeezing Mark's hand again. "I... love you, Mark. I've been trying to deny it for so long and I was scared that I would get no respect, but I can't... I can't do it anymore. You need to know."

Mark watches him for a moment before smiling, the gesture small but genuine. "Come here."

Seán blinks a few times, perplexed as he climbs onto the bed next to the prince. Mark runs his thumb over the king's jaw, his touch light and tentative. Seán leans into the contact, his tired eyes sliding closed.

"Are you going to be alright?" the king murmurs, reaching up to hold Mark's hand against his face. "If I sleep, I mean..."

"Yes, just be careful," Mark replies softly. He gestures to his body with his free hand. "Injuries and such..."

Seán nods lightly, his breathing becoming more even as he falls asleep. Mark sighs heavily, fighting the instinct to curl away from the contact. This is Seán, not some kidnapper. He's not going to hurt him. As gently as possible, Mark scoots closer to Seán and uses his hand against the royal's jaw to tuck him against his chest. Every movement still hurts, but he tries his hardest not to wince. Mark reaches up slowly and removes Seán's crown, placing it on the side table so he can run his fingers through the king's green hair. Seán's breath tickles Mark's bare chest as he snuggles closer, his arms wrapping around the prince's waist. Tight.

Mark's yelp wakes Seán in an instant. The king's eyes flood with guilt when he sees the pain in the prince's eyes, and he quickly backs away. Mark grits his teeth, trying his hardest to regulate his breathing.

"I'm so sorry," Seán whispers. "I shouldn't be-"

Mark shakes his head. "It's fine, I swear. I'll be okay."

"I'm going to make it worse."

"Having you here is better."

Seán pulls his knees into his chest. "Are you sure?"

"Yes," Mark replies. He settles into the cushions again and motions the royal over. Seán eyes him warily before crawling back into his arms, tucking himself beneath Mark's chin. The prince presses a hand to the back of his head, holding him close.

"Sleep tight, Mark," Seán murmurs into Mark's chest.

"You too, Seán."