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When she opened her eyes she still expected it to be a dream. It wasn’t true. It couldn’t be. It wasn’t possible that Clover Firelight, halfling rogue, had become a queen. Things like that didn’t happen.
But then she looked and saw him, laying peacefully beside her, her king, her… husband. Eric III, King of Drostardy.
She smiled and sat up, feeling as though she might collapse into little more than clouds and butterflies at any moment. Taking a nearby silk shawl, she got up and walked to the bedroom’s balcony. She climbed up onto a bench near the railing and peered down from the height of the tower. The cool, morning wind caressed her nearly naked body and the early sun was just peeking over the eastern horizon. From here she could see the whole of the castle, of the town surrounding it, and even outside of the capital into the forests of Drostardy that lay beyond. This was hers now. This was her place.
It still didn't feel real.
She sighed and rested her arms on the railing.
She thought back to the events of the previous night. The ceremony, the reception, the grand celebration… had it all been real, then? Or was she still dreaming? If so that was okay, too, she supposed. At least it meant she didn’t have to wake up yet.
After the celebration, the king had carried her back to his… to their chambers, the both of them giggling and whispering and drunk on fine wine and life and love. It had taken Eric nearly five minutes just to get the door to the bedroom open, what with his arms full of squirming halfling and with Clover laughing and tickling him with her nimble little fingers. Finally they had gotten inside and he had nearly tripped on the rug, spilling her on her back on the bed.
Suddenly she had found herself looking up into his piercing eyes and handsome, smiling face, and her laughter vaporized in a moment of pure clarity and perfection.
“Eric…” she had whispered up at him, one hand stroking his soft bearded face. He leaned in and pressed his lips to hers, his whiskers tickling her cheeks.
“My Clover...” he sighed as his hand took hold of her hips.
After that it was fuzzy. She remembered his hand on her breast, his lips on her neck, the soft whisper of clothes falling to the wooden floor. Murmured words and tender caresses. For a long while they had simply held one another, exploring and teasing, gently opening themselves to each other. When he finally entered her she had gasped, not from pain, or even from pleasure, but from the simple feeling of closeness, of oneness with him.
“Are you all right?” he had asked as a single tear slid from her eye.
For a moment she couldn’t speak, only hold on to him tightly and breath.
“Yes…” she finally said with a nod, “No… I’m more than that. I’m… perfect.”
“You are, you know…” she heard from behind her, breaking her quiet reminiscence. She turned and saw Eric, still laying in bed, one arm propped beneath him, looking at her with love in his eyes.
“I am what?” she asked, stepping down from the stool and moving towards him with a tired smile.
“Perfect.” he replied.
She laughed as she leaned against the bed, which came up nearly to her shoulders.
“How did you know what I was thinking about?”
“Lucky guess,” Eric replied with a grin, “I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t thinking about the same thing.”
Clover blushed, ever so slightly, allowing the shawl to slip just a little bit out of place around her shoulders.
“Really? How would you feel about a repeat performance now that we’re good and sober?”
Eric reached out a hand a gently cupped the halfling’s rosy cheek.
“If I could do nothing else for the rest of my life I’d die a happy man.”
Clover let the shawl slip to the floor completely, revealing the soft curves of her body to her king. With an uncanny nimbleness she hopped up onto the bed and threw one leg over her new husband, straddling his bare chest.
“Hmmm…” she said, mischievously, “Why does this seem so familiar?”
Before he could respond she took his hands and stretched them up above his head as far as her short arms could reach, bringing her face right up to his.
“Oh right, this is exactly the position we first met in, isn’t it?” she said with a grin.
Eric laughed.
“Only at the time I remember being in the dank hold of a pirate ship and being chained down with manacles.”
“I can arrange for manacles if your majesty desires. The royal bed should be plenty sturdy to handle them.”
“Oh, I’m sure Tainley would love to see that requisition come across his desk. I can already imagine the look on his face.”
Both of them began laughing hysterically, Clover collapsing onto Eric’s chest.
“I love you.” Clover said, suddenly when they had both finally stopped giggling. She leaned in closer and kissed him, feeling the softness of his lips, the gentle probing of his tongue.
“I love you, Clover Firelight,” Eric said somewhat breathlessly as the kiss broke.
Clover moved her body backwards along his stomach, sliding downward towards his hips. When she reached her goal she wasted no time in positioning him and lowering herself onto him. Despite the size difference between them he entered her easily, and as he did she felt the same overwhelming sense of closeness and fullness that she had the night before.
“Oh gods…” the halfling muttered as she slowly sank down, finally feeling the last of him disappear inside of her, “That…”
Words failed her as a shiver ran up her spine and she moaned. Eric pulled her to him, wrapping his strong arms around her shoulders. His fingers ran through the curled locks of her hair as they began moving together in unison. It was exactly as perfect as she remembered.
When it was over they lay together, her smaller body nestled in his arms. She felt him softening against her leg and sighed with contentment.
In that moment, safe and warm, being held by her true love, she finally came to believe. This was no dream. She would never have to wake up.
She was home.