Times of Love

 I want a 2pm kind of love. A "lets sit on the couch and read or watch a show" kind of love. A ‘forehead kisses and goodbye kisses’ kind of love. I want warm company and picnics in the backyard on sunny days. I want to wake up from a nap on the couch to find a blanket tucked around my shoulders. I want a ‘looked up from my book to find you smiling at me’ kind of love. A ‘splashing in puddles in the summer rain’ and a ‘playing video games in the middle of the night’ kind of love. A "honey I'm home!" and a ‘baking cookies in the kitchen’ kind of love.

I want a 7am kind of love. A ‘warm hug under the blankets’ kind of love. I want sleepy good morning kisses and warm cups of coffee and tea. I want to enjoy the smell of breakfast and getting dressed. A ‘slow awakening and foggy brainpower ‘kind of love. A ‘fuzzy pajamas and stocking feet’ kind of love. A "lets get ready together" and a "can you brush my hair?" kind of love.

I want a 10pm kind of love. A ‘waiting up for our kids’ kind of love. A ‘fancy dinner’ kind of love. A ‘fuzzy blanket and arms around my waist’ kind of love. I want sneaking ice cream from the freezer after the kids are in bed, and laughing at shenanigans. I want to go driving at night and to go stargazing in the bed of a truck. A ‘dancing in the kitchen’ and ‘accidentally falling asleep on the couch’ kind of love. 

I want a 3am kind of love. A ‘wiping away my tears’ kind of love. A "come here, I love you" kind of love. A ‘cuddling closer’ kind of love. I want you to hand me our fussy baby to feed him, and to wake up briefly to see you pacing the floor with him. I want to both be up praying for people on our heart. A "the baby's coming!" and a "grab the hospital bag and get in the car" kind of love.

I want a 3:30pm kind of love. A "how's work going darlin’?" kind of love. A "how can I help?" kind of love. I want you to rub my shoulders while I work and listen to my frustrations with my characters. I want to go dance in the rain. I want flowers appearing on my desk with a cute notecard. I want to look up and see you smiling and wink at me over tiny children attacking me. A "can we have that family over?" and a "how can I join you in this?" kind of love.

I want a 6pm kind of love. A "you look good honey" kind of love. A "can you tie my tie" and a "can you zip up my dress?" kind of love. A ‘picking up the living room cause they'll be here any minute’ kind of love. I want help setting the table and carrying food. A "let's feed people" kind of love. A "bring people without a home into ours" kind of love. An "I'll help with the dishes" kind of love. 

I want a 5am kind of love. An "I'll hold your hair back" kind of love. A "come back to bed" kind of love. I want to watch the sun come up through the window and touch your face before falling back asleep. I want to hide from the noisy feet of our kids for the two seconds before they jump on us. A "go back to sleep" kind of love. An "I'll take care of the sick kid if you take care of the mess and sheets" kind of love.

I want a 1pm kind of love. A "lets go swimming at grandma's" kind of love. An iced coffees, sweet tea, and card games kind of love. I want to cuddle on the couch in the middle of the day while I read my book. I want to go fly a kite in the park. I want to go hiking and get you to carry my water for me. A "lets go on an adventure" kind of love. An "I love that swimsuit babe" kind of love.  

I want an all-day all-the-time kind of love. A "come join me" kind of love. A "let's do life together" kind of love. I want to wash our bathroom and to grocery shopping. I want to pack the car and to go visit friends for the day. A "are you ready to go?" and a "let me carry that for you" kind of love. 

Princess

 Shushing noises filled the hallway. Skirts and slippers brushing the stones as she walked. Her hands flexing and relaxing, pinching the sides of the fabric. Her head was high, her hair hung loosely down her back. The dress was soft to the touch, worn more in some places where her fingers picked when she worried. A thin bronze band was settled onto her forehead. It was weightless, and he'd worn it so often, she barely noticed it anymore. Today, however, it seemed to weigh more than it ever had before. 

The walls were lined in tapestries, displaying the achievements of the past. A war here, a hunt there. She kept walking, the thought creeping back into her mind, questioning the worth of it all. Questioning the worth of her own position. 

She stopped at the double doors at the end of the hall and adjusted her skirt. She closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and the nodded to the doormen. They opened the doors for her, pulling them inward and she stepped through them. Her pace was different from how it had been in the hall. Her face held strength and dignity, her lips carried the touch of a smile. She looked straight ahead as she walked slowly through the room toward the dais where her father sat. He nodded to her and waited for her to settle on the throne just below his. She adjusted her skirts, then looked up at him and nodded. He smiled at her, the smile comforting, proud, and full of love. She breathed it in, allowing it to fill her. 

The room began to fill with conversation and hubbub again as the first petitioner came forward. Whisperings lined the walls. They seemed to hang in the air, flitting from one ear to another before being absorbed by the walls of the throne room. She wondered what stories these walls held. The depravity they'd seen. The hope they'd witnessed. 

She reined herself in and focused on the man on his knee before her father. He was requesting aid at his farm. It had been raided by brigands the night before. They had taken a horse and a cow. He had had to walk here. She clenched her fists in her skirts. The injustice of it all filled her with frustration. She took a deep breath and released the anger. Her father nodded to her and let her answer the man. She apologized for his loss, and promised that the brigands would be tracked down. She also sent him to the treasurer to provide funds to help cover the giant hole this would leave in his livelihood. She prayed it wouldn't harm his family, and knew her meager offering would not be nearly enough, although the gratefulness that shown in his eyes told her he was thankful regardless. The frustration that emotion hid broke her heart, as she could picture his family in her minds' eye.

The next petitioner stepped forward, this time a monk. His request was full of pain and injustice. A story of fields burning, a chapel being burned to the ground. People dying. She took her time in answering this one, phrasing her response carefully. Her father's gaze was on her, and she knew it. She kept herself in check for the man, but her mind was already whirring. Someone needed to go look into this problem. The solution was tantalizing, but she couldn't slip. Wouldn't slip. 

Breathe. Keep cool. Answer and move on. Take notes for what will need to be done later. Done to help people. To get around the corrupt court that was still filling the room with whispers.

The next petitioner stepped forward.

Glances from the women. Cutting looks like glass. Lecherous looks from the men. Knights with eyes that linger too long. Ignore them. Breathe. Focus. Answer. Be kind. Move on.

The next petitioner stepped forward.

Guards shift change. Exchange acknowledgement with the new ones. Address this new problem. No fidgeting. No moving. Keep reactions to a micro level. Submit to the king. 

The next petitioner stepped forward. 

Listen. Comfort. Pay attention to the room at large. Participate in the dance between ruler and subject. Acknowledge their needs and offer what you can. Pass them on to where there is help. Address the next one. Keep it up until the line dwindles and the king rises to his feet, announcing dinner.

She stood after her father and accepted his arm. She joined him in walking through the side door below the dais. They left the room and entered the small hall between the throne room and the mead hall. He stopped her there as the door closed. They paused in the small room, only a handful of paces long. He held her at arms-length and smiled at her, kingly demeanor dropping for the moment they're alone. His smile is that of a proud father, and then he pulls her into a hug. He holds her for a moment, letting his daughter lean on his strength, before they break the hug and step back into their roles. He pauses her before they go into the next room, arresting her with a touch. 

"I know you've made mental notes on issues you will follow up on personally," he said quietly. "I learned long ago not to try to stop you, or to ask too many questions. As your king, I ask for no details and remain in ignorance. As your father, I ask that if you're doing this to be careful, to be safe, and trust carefully."

She nodded and hugged his arm a little. She would be meeting with her compatriots again after the meal. Her father knew it. She knew he knew it. It was the thing she could do to serve her people. If the best way to do so while she was in this position was grow to be the strong leader they needed, she would do that. If another way was to join the "reprobates" in the woods for another evening, then she would set her crown and gown aside, leave her slippers in exchange for boots, and strap her knife to her belt instead of hanging it in a secret sheath under her skirt.

Tigress

 Green verdant grass. The ground is a little wet, lush and beautiful. The grass is almost spongy, and the sunlight filters down onto it, creating a dappled pattern. In one sunspot is a drop of blood. Then a few feet later there is another. And then a little further on, another. And another glistens in the sunlight like a ruby on a princess's necklace. The next is inches away, and then there's a bloody pawprint. And then there's another. Then two. Then a small pool of blood. And finally you've followed long enough to see a wounded tigress, one foot caught in a trap. 

Her fiery stripes blaze in the sunshine, but in some places they are dulled and matted, sticky with stripes of drying blood. They've turned to a russet color, and under the fresh wounds, you can see scars from past battles. One ear is torn and it's attracting flies. She holds her paw off the ground. She stumbles and lets out a roar of pain as trap pushes further into her paw. Blood is dripping slowly from her sides and paw to the grass, and she stops, lying down and licking herself, trying to keep from becoming infected. 

She's exhausted. Her eyes are glassy and full of pain. She slumps, too weak to stand anymore, with no way to free herself from this new source of pain. Her scars and wounds tell a story. A story of many fierce battles. The stripes in the middle of her back tell another story, and you see very old scars where the skin has stretched with age. There is no fur growing over them, on her hind legs. It must have been a very old wound, and you wonder what caused it. You can tell it has affected her, pushing her to fight for what she has. She cannot receive help, she is too dangerous to be approached. There is no one to help her, and she cannot ask, there in the middle of the woods. There is no hope for her. Not even a little. 

Dancing

Dancing. 

Arms above her head, her hair flying out all around her. Rainbow flitted around, her head thrown back. Her smile filled the entire room, providing light for the space. She didn't stop, even when she was talking. Her hips swayed, her skirt swished against her ankles. Rainbow rocked onto one foot, popping the other into the air. Another step and she grabbed Rogue's arm, traveling forward. She tugged him along and towards her, sliding one hand around his back and the other gripping his shoulder. Hair scraped the ground and then she was upright again. He grabbed her, pulling her into his arms for a moment. A wicked smile, a mischievous grin, and then she was spinning, around and around. She laughed and spun back into his arms, her hair dangerously close to catching on his vest buttons. 

Music.

Her laugh was infectious and caught by Sunshine. Rainbow slipped under Rogue's arm and grabbed Sunshine's hand, twirling her in a circle. She dropped her hand and they danced together, pulling Valiant in alongside them. The steps changed. They kept time with their hands, creating a syncopated rhythm. Their feet drummed the floor and their breathy laughs provided harmonies. Sunshine reached and pulled Theo into the circle, away from where he watched in the corner. The music adjusted and played, filling the air full of light. The floor was bare, the walls nonexistent. Skirts flashed color, shoes tapped on rhythm. The circumstances were bare, but the warmth, love, and joy was contagious. 

Revel.

Precious joined the circle hesitantly, tucking dark curls behind her ear. Valiant spun her around, frolicking alongside Rainbow. Snickers followed shyly before surrendering herself to the music with abandon. Rogue caught Rainbow again, pulling her into his arms and trapping her for a moment. She rested and caught her breath before he twirled her around in front of him, bringing her giggles back to the forefront. 

Happiness.

Sunshine gently invited Elegance to the party, coaxing her out into the floor, out into the dance. Rainbow saw and joined them, gently showing Elegance steps to try, to put her own spin on it. Elegance pirouetted in a circle and landed with a smile. The other girls applauded and tugged her into the frivolities. 

Dancing.