Rue stood on the edge of the blanket, holding the water she had obtained for her prince. She had insisted on fetching it, driven by the distantly painful memory of her cruel hand, forcing his unresisting grip to spill what it held, and her cruel voice, forcing his unresisting words to agree to her wish for a simpler drink. And now, she fought vainly with an affectionately puzzled smile, as the pale strength of the sun blanketed Siegfried in warmth that had drawn him into a doze. He smiled, too, a thin tracery of pleasant dreams, and his crown had toppled from his wind-ruffled hair into the grass. For the first time in far too long, his happiness was restored to its crystalline brilliance, and even the more literal nightmares had abated to give him peace. She padded forward slowly to avoid upsetting him as she set the bottle in the picnic basket, and caught a sleepily soft whisper when she bent close.

“Rue...”

She jolted upright, a deep blush claiming her porcelain face. Her breath snagged on her perfectly round mouth, until the startled excitement that danced behind her eyes came out in a bright laugh. “Oh, my prince!”

She tucked her knees beneath her again, gracefully adjusting her skirt before stretching out beside him and trailing her fingers over against his cheek. He did not respond, nor did the comforting weight of his breath quicken, and so she continued gently, until she began to drift away in the breeze, as well.

“Why did you stop?” His eyes remained lightly shut even as he reached out, wrapping her against his chest. The feathery amusement in his voice as he swished his fingers in her hair gave the rhythm of her heart a unique trill. “Perhaps it's selfish, but I was enjoying that...”

At last, he peered out at her through a half-veiled gaze, and its liquid gold as as fathomless as ever, but she knew, she simply /knew/, that his loving kindness went to the depths of his own soul. And that was for her... She tightened her arms around him, and felt that despite his outward calm, his heart was in a state matching hers. She skipped her hand over his face again, murmuring, “I'm sorry, my prince...”

“What's this? No apologies...” He caught her hand there, and pressed it close. His princess was so lovely, how could even think that she had an apology to give to him? No, his tender heart found everything it would ever need from her, a soothing balm to ease the drawn-out aches of sorrow and loneliness, and to refresh the happiness that he had lived so long without. He was as he should be once again, and for that he was grateful to her. “I love you, so in truth, I need nothing more than this.”