#mqau

He was so — foolish. She found it impossible to fathom sometimes how it was he could believe his choices wise. When he stormed out on her only to return with bruises or cuts, it was all she could do not to scold him. Yet, despite his temper and his refusal to believe he needed any help, she’d convinced him to sit and let her tend to the cuts at least. She might not be an expert, but she knew enough that letting them be would only result in him falling victim to a fever, and her magic simply wasn’t reliable enough at all to be counted upon for this.The air between them was thick; Ripe with tension and words left unsaid. It had been her who had caused him to leave, some words misspoken that were taken as terribly as they could have been, and out he went. It wasn’t that unusual for them, they often struggled to get along entirely, but there was something more that kept them tethered. More than obligation or agreement. At least, she hoped he felt ti too, as it was often all that she felt. And why when he walked out of the thin door of their rented room in the crowded inn, she was left alone to cry.Watching him closely, she tried not to let the way he wouldn’t look at her hurt any more than his cuts might, but never had she been much of a master of her heart. Unwilling to allow herself to be more undone by this entire situation than she already was, Regina resolved to simply try and not care. As if she were capable of such indifference at all, let alone with him. Even as she tried to feign her callousness, her heart ached within her chest,  constricting with conviction and concern.Stubbornly frowning down at her work before her eyes could have the chance to cry, she continued to gently clean away the blood and dirt, trying to force her magic into some sort of obedience to her so that she could heal him completely. Yet, all she succeeded in doing was looking as if she were stricken with some terrible headache. Giving up in her benevolent pursuits, she then began wrapping the wounds delicately with what supplies they had at their disposal. She was struck quite suddenly with how similar this situation was, in its own way. Similar to another they had shared shortly after they’d made their escape into his hat, but then it had been her who had needed his help. Swallowing back a painful lump at the thought of this somehow being the last time he’d forgive her for her wrong doings, Regina ripped the towel and tied it neatly around his arm. As a final touch she gently pressed her lips against the largest of the cuts in silent apology for anyway in which they might be her fault. 

Her hand ached. Pain throbbed more violently now than it had when she’d cut it to begin, or even when he’d tended to it. Tears sat welling just at the corners of her eyes, but she didn’t want to let them fall. She’d done enough to make him think little of her already, and worse yet, likely rethink their entire arrangement all together. If there was anything she knew for certain, it was that she wouldn’t survive very long without his help. A fact which she was beginning to believe he too had realized. Rocinante had been freed rather easily with the aid of his knife, something she found entirely discomforting to know had been kept in such close proximity to her all this time, but she supposed a queen that chose to abandon the luxury and so-called safety of her palace would simply have to endure the consequences of her choice; including near and relative danger.  Their footsteps fell quietly as they moved back towards the camp; she’d insisted the stallion needed more time to calm, but the hatter insisted they needed to be back at camp by nightfall, lest any more wolves find them enticing, and her magic not be quite so cooperative. Begrudgingly, Regina had agreed. She couldn’t quite find it within her to regret the choice to flee, nor to instill her trust in this thief; however... she was questioning the decision regardless of lacking regret. She had thought him more likable, for one. And though he had shown her some kindness, he had also proven to be quite callous and immature, she thought. And though it was obvious he had the advantage of a handful of years against her, he acted more a child than she arguably still was.  She let Rocinante walk behind her unridden, not wanting to further stress him, or risk him being hurt in ways that were not obvious to the eye; though that meant her feet were aching, being unused to such use and strain. Prior to being queen, she had ridden anywhere she was able, and after the farce of a marriage had been complete, she’d not been allowed anywhere beyond the palace’s walls, negating the need for any manner of physical endurance. With her hand clenched tightly around bandages that slowly were turning a deep shade of red, the young queen failed to manage concealing her other burdensome bothers. A grunt and a groan left her with nearly every uneven step upon the rocky ground, and an exasperated sigh filtered out between tightly pressed lips when a branch swung back into her way.  It wasn’t that she was ungrateful for his help, or even the shelter and warmth he’d provided her (though she did think some of them due her, runaway or not she was still a QUEEN as well as a lady,) yet, something about him was infuriatingly careless. Her gaze narrowed upon him not ten paces ahead, a hundred different thoughts and assumptions filing away about him.  “Isn’t our camp that way?” She finally asked, breaking the silence as she stopped in her tracks, the stallion slowing to a halt just behind her. Squinting at the dimming trees, she tried to ignore the unease in her gut. “Just how qualified are you to be tracking and leading?” She asked on, not intending there to be such a doubting edge to the words, as they had been spoken in nothing more than concern; however the implication was ever present all the same.

        "Where is this land you are taking me to?"    Excitement seems to fill every word, gaze intently fixed upon him in  innocent adoration. He has shown her things already she never   dreamed of, and there was more to see even yet. He held her trust  implicitly, and wholly held her affection as well. The hat in his hands  is regarded with both hesitancy and awe by her. She's seen it work  before, of course, but it still remains something of an enigma to her.  Glancing up from it, and to him, she smiles a little nervously.                                       --------- He has shown her so much, and                                    now he is going to show her even more.

                             "You have exhausted your use to me."

I secretly:[] Hate You[] Cherish You In My Life[] Love You[x] Feel I’m A Joke To You[] Worship You[x] Like You[] Dislike You[] Belong To You[x] Think You’re … going to leave me