Curses and Cream Puffs

Damien hadn't realized how much he missed his bed. As much as he wanted to protest against Lena cuddling up to him like that while she was a little buzzed, he knocked out almost as soon as he laid his head down. Damien had always been a heavy sleeper, but sleeping on the floor hadn't done him much good. When he finally woke up in his bed for the first time in a little while, he felt like he had slept for seven years. He just stared at the ceiling for a moment, then glanced to his side to see Lena still curled up at his side, soundly asleep. They were both still fully dressed in their formal clothes. He felt panic creeping up on him. When she woke up she'd be sobered up. Would she be angry to see him?

He slowly and gently moved her off of him and tucked her into bed, trying his best to sneak away without waking her up. He wasn't as quiet as he thought he was. She didn't even open her eyes, hand darting out to grab him by the back of his shirt. He stopped mid step and fell back into bed. She cracked an eye open.

"All those years of training and you can't properly sneak away from a witch?" she mumbled.

"You seemed pretty deep asleep," he said. "I didn't want to wake you."

"Get back in bed," she whined. "It's cold."

He hesitated for a moment.

"Are you sure?" he said slowly. "I just... don't want you to resent me."

"Do you resent me?" she asked.

"No," he said. "You might be the only thing in the world I don't resent."

"Then get back in bed."

He sighed and unbuttoned the top button of his shirt so he could breath a little easier. Lena patted the spot in bed next to her and rested her head on his shoulder when he laid back down. They stayed there for a little while with her dozing in and out of sleep while he stroked her hair. It felt nice, being affectionate with someone. He had never given it much thought while he was dedicating his life to his training, but now he could only hope Lena was right in saying she wouldn't resent him. He wasn't sure if he could ever go back to the life he had before.

"I never took you to be the snoring type," Lena said after a little while.

"Oh," Damien grimaced. "Did I snore? I'm sorry."

"You were out like a light," she laughed. "The snoring was the only thing letting me know you were still alive. It's alright, though. If I poked you, you'd stop. It was kind of cute, honestly."

"I come from a long line of snorers," Damien said. "I'm not as bad as my father is. My mother used to say the house sounded like a pigpen at night."

"Well, I guess I'm lucky just to have you to worry about," she said, kissing his cheek. "And I think we've all benefitted from Louis being gone a few days."

"He's my brother," Damien sighed. "But you're right. I don't miss him much."

"Don't feel too bad," she said. "He wouldn't have enjoyed the wedding much, anyways."

He cracked a smile, then sat up. She made a small wince in protest.

"I'm sorry," he chuckled. "This shirt is itchy. I'd like to change now, if that's okay with you."

"Fine."

She released him so he could get up and start unbuttoning his shirt the rest of the way. He glanced back over his shoulder and saw her watching him and he chuckled.

"I'm not opposed to it if you wanted to watch, but I assumed you'd want to change out of the gown, too."

She blushed and got up, taking out a more comfortable dress and rushing into the washroom to change. Damien went down into the kitchen and looked at what he had available to him. He might as well have tried taking over breakfast.

He was in the middle of trying to scramble some eggs when Lena came back down, looking fresh and ready for the day. She shook her head with an amused smile.

"Did you season them?" she asked.

"Of course I did," Damien said defensively. "But in the occasion that maybe I hadn't, what might one season them with?"

"Salt and pepper will do just fine," she laughed. "Move. Let me do it."

He stepped to the side in defeat, watching her as she expertly finished what he had started.

"I'll have to learn eventually," he said. "You know, since you got here I've had a hard time getting into every pair of pants I own."

"Good," she said. "You know us witches. We always like to fatten you up before we eat you."

She poked him in the gut with a giggle.

"Well, I don't mind it so much," he said. "I can buy new pants. If... you wanted to stay here. With me."

She stopped what she was doing to look up at him, looking both surprised and happy. She set down the pan for a moment and brushed her hands off on her apron.

"Do you mean that?" she asked.

"Only if you want to," he said. "If you're repulsed by the idea, then I'm absolutely joking and take it back. But if you're not-"

She pulled him down and kissed him, cutting him off. He wrapped his arms around her waist to pull her in. He supposed he had his answer.

Breakfast was pleasant. They sat together and chatted lightheartedly while Duchess nibbled on some assorted vegetables at their feet. Then their conversation was interrupted by a rough knock on the door. Damien frowned and went to answer it. There was no one there, but he noticed a piece of paper had been left on the doorstep.

"What is it?" Lena asked.

"I'm not sure," he said, picking up the paper.

There was no writing on it. Just an image of a black square, surrounded by five circles. Lena took it from him and examined it.

"Do you know what it is?" he asked.

"A warning," she said. "This mark is used by dark magic users to target their prey. It lets the target know that they're out to get them, and also that other witches should stay away."

"It must be the Mortecombes," Damien said.

"Must be," she said. "But we'll be ready. Just like we were before."

"We will."

He gave her a reassuring and hopeful smile. He wished it was more hopeful than he felt.