His laugh startled her heavy mind, jumping a little as she stared at him and listening to the liquid splash around in the jar in her hand. She realized she hadn’t heard that laugh in a very, very long time. Her eyes shined with some internal happiness as he actually teased her.

The mention of Zevran had her attention bouncing between Hadrian and then the bottle. “We traveled together for three months… I’d say I do.” She found a small tease within her own tone before she took a drink of it. “You want Zevran to be that voice?” She asked, tilting her head as she offered the bottle back.

“I do, yes,” Hadrian answered matter-of-factly, taking the bottle and a small sip from it. “You think him capable of it?”

For Alys was right: they’d traveled together. Not even knowing the depth of their connection, Hadrian guessed that Alys knew the Dresmondi better than anyone in Nevermere and was in the best position to assess his fitness.

Alys stared at the bottle for a long moment. The… whatever it was that pulled her to the Dresmondi eager to have him around. But was he a good fit?

“He and Rune, his dyr, love their people. They are willing to consider any options to help them rid themselves of the Eldouir’s and restore some sense of their lives. Even if they know it won’t be the same. He’s logical… he listens.” She took a long swing of the drink. “I think he’d be a good choice.” She looked over at him. “Though… their people aren’t used to rulers. Not… like what we have. What other kingdoms do. But after what’s been forced on them…” a sadness washed over her. Because it wasn’t anything she would want for anyone. Not from the stories she had been told.

“He’d do well.” She said, staring up at the ceiling from where she laid back against the couch.

They’d have to get used to it. For their own good. It was something Alys already knew, so Hadrian wouldn’t utter it. But the Dresmondi were in no position to be making demands, to be looking upon Nevermere with anything but gratitude. And if Alys was right about Zevran, he’d know that too.

“Good.” Hadrian trusted her instincts, something that might surprise her and certainly surprised him. He let silence settle between them for a moment before reaching for the bottle and taking a swig. 

His tone was what caught her by surprise. Making her turn her head to look at him as she released the bottle and watched him take his own pull. It was a moment of light, where maybe in her darkness she would find a way out. She didn’t expect this every time, in fact she was ready for him to meet her head on as he always had first. But that small flicker of hope brought a tightness to her chest that had a hand raised and rub a small circle against her sternum.

“Thanks,” she muttered softly, almost afraid to break the trance as she felt tired. So tired suddenly, that she shifted to get up except her head swam and she realized how quickly she had pulled a lot of of liqueur. She hung her head and her elbows braced on her knees as she tried to steady herself. “I’ll… be out of your hair in a moment.” She mumbled, her hands sinking into her curls as she tried to take steady breaths in through her nose and out through her mouth.

Hadrian was tired too; it was an exhaustion so prolonged and profound that he’d forgotten how it was to feel any other way. When Alys sat up, he realized his eyelids had started to droop as he sat up fully awake. Watching her take long breaths, Hadrian chuckled and shook his head.

“I don’t think you’ll ever be quite out of my hair, Alys.” Hadrian looked at her tenderly for a moment before reaching out and tucking a rogue curl behind her ear and guiding her chin to look at him.

“Perhaps you should lay down. A little rest wouldn’t kill you.” Unless stopped, Hadrian would stand and go for the blanket he hid away for such occasions.

Well, not exactly like these, but for rare moments where a commander could sneak a wink of sleep.

His touch was a heat that she followed, like a moth to a flame. Turning her chin as he took it and her eyes darting across his face with surprise. They had been here before once, a long long time ago. And just as it had then, something stirred in her. But her movements were more sluggish than before, allowing him to get up and move for the blanket.

Alys let out a soft noise that said ‘you’re right’ as she shifted in the lounge, moving to lay down across it as her eyes remained on him. If he tried to just give her the blanket, her hand would reach for his and would hold him in place. Not wanting him to leave. But if he made a move to sit with her, or lay, she’d move to make space (or the best she could) for him.

Hadrian was surprised when Alys’s hand caught his. Perhaps he should have put distance between them; for Kennet’s sake. To protect the precarious proposal he’d made that still in many respects hung in the balance. But he couldn’t. Not with Alys.

He wouldn’t lay next to her. Instead, without a word, Hadrian would gently lift her head and settle it on his lap. His hand would rest on her curly-haired head, absently stroking the curls as if coaxing her to sleep. Eventually, Hadrian’s head would tilt back and his eyes would droop as he was drawn to the restful darkness.