Light Eyes; DarK Eyes

Aurora and her father waited with their horses at the designated place, having sent the men forward. It was in an alley, not far from where Aiden and Mathias were supposed to come out. The plan was to get Aiden, and leave immediately, and meet back up with the soldiers in the forest. The horses’ feet were muffled with burlap sacks, and nothing on their persons’ glinted.
They were late. Mathias had said ten o’clock and it was quarter past. Aurora’s stomach churned with doubt.
“There.” The Celestine king whispered, pointing out two figures hurrying up. His daughter breathed a sigh of relief. Aiden’s arm was draped over Mathias’s shoulders for support. When they were close enough, it was obvious that he was barely standing at all. Mathias held Hiraka with his free hand; the other kept his cousin from keeling over. In an instant, Aurora was off her horse. She slipped under Aiden’s other arm, evening him out a little. A sharp intake of air told her just how much more abused he was.
He mounted the large horse as quickly as was possible, before Aurora swung up in front of him.
“Mathias.” The man looked up, before handing him his sword. “Good luck, and thank you.” Aiden said in his native language, gratitude showing in his voice, since it couldn’t on his face in the dark, as he slipped the sword clumsily into straps made for holding swords.
“Same to you, Aiden. Your highness,” He addressed the king in Celestine, who looked quizzical at bring addressed. “May I have two months to sort out my country before we meet to discuss an alliance?” Celadon looked confused, but agreed. They turned their horses, and set off at a canter. When they were safely outside the city they slowed down to a trot.
“What did he mean by that?” Aurora asked the man behind her, whose arms had snaked themselves about her waist.
“King Ohrir is dead. An ‘assassin’ killed him not fifteen minutes ago. Mathias will be the King of Darria now.” He said in her ear.
“You killed him?” She asked, surprised that he had been able to. The late king of Darria had been neither small nor weak, and they both knew it first hand. And Aiden had been under his ‘tender’ care for months.
“Mm. He hurt you, and had my half sister killed.” Aurora felt the half shrug that went with his next words. “Besides. He gave me room and…board…in his lovely cells for two months. Had to pay him back.” He drawled sarcastically behind her, his body was close enough to warm her back, though not touching. The horse underneath them stumbled on a raised tuft of moor grass, jolting her backwards, into him. Air hissed through his teeth, followed by a hoarse groan.
“Damn,” he muttered weakly, his voice betraying his quickly deteriorating ability to remain conscious. On of his arms unthreaded itself from around her waist to try and staunch blood that he could feel sliding down his side.
“Aiden, are you alright? Don’t pass out, you’ll fall.” She said, signaling furiously to her father that they needed to slow down. He noticed, and the horses slowed to a fast walk. They couldn’t afford to stop yet, they were still too close to the city.
“I think…I’ll be alright.” He murmured, sounding less and less alright by the moment.
They caught up to the soldiers sometime after midnight, right outside the forest that stretched for days. They rode in at a walk, mindful of both woodland dangers and Aiden’s wavering consciousness. When Celadon finally had the company halt, he was more or less riding unconscious, leaning a little on Aurora to remain upright.
A small fire was lit, just enough to be able to see his wounds by. And they were numerous. Even some of the steadiest veterans winced in sympathy. Aurora set right to work, healing with magic until she was too lightheaded to stand. She was almost as exhausted as he was when she had finished. She fell asleep next to him. Her father looked over, and pulled himself to his feet. Grabbing her blanket, he covered them both. None of his men said anything, for which he was grateful. He knew that they both loved each other…but old habits die hard, and it was difficult, sometimes, to reassure himself that they wouldn’t bring misfortune down upon both of their heads.

It was three days before they got back to the Palace. Aurora had been unable to summon enough energy to finish healing Aiden, and she was the only healer in the group. The group of men, outside Aurora and her father, knew only of Aiden’s reputation from their comrades on the interrogation. They had had a half-wary respect for the man, on the principle that anyone who impressed the interrogation team that much should be watched carefully. Now; after watching him carefully, up close and personal, for three days; they had seen just how high an opinion that was due to him. He seemed unwounded, now that he wore a clean shirt. Except for the few times that he’d been hit in the side, where the worst of it was, it didn’t seem like he had been slowed down at all. Aurora knew better. He had little of his usual cat-like grace about him, and his injuries pained him more than he let on. Knowing he would only cover it up better if informed, she let it stand.

It wasn’t until they were back in the city that Aurora was rested enough to finish patching him up. It had been easy, for Aiden was a fast healer naturally, and Aurora’s magic merely sped up the process.
The class was ecstatic that their foreign teacher would be staying in the city, for good, this time. They more or less fell upon him immediately; demanding answers, and trying to guilt him into teaching them more swordplay, which he agreed to. They quickly fell back into their old schedule of visiting the markets and then the courtyard. Something was different, though. Their relationship had changed. Aiden and Aurora finally admitted to their feelings for one another, and were enjoying the rewards of their honesty. While they curbed their affection in public, it was readily apparent when they were alone.