𝕳𝖔𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖘𝖘 - (Ranboo)

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟏𝟎

As the morning sun flooded her room, it cracked the floorboards with pale rays. Unlike in Hertha's home village, the sun wasn't warm and motherly, it wasn't honey-like and welcoming. It was cold and shattering, harsh like shards of glass. That was what the sun reminded her of. It looked as though it would form and reveal sharp, mean cut glass splayed everywhere on the floor. But it didn't, it was only the morning sun. She rubbed her eyes and slid off of the couch, feeling her feet touch the floorboards before being pulled back into the covers. The covers of her bed, which Ranboo slept at. Confused, moreover distressed (from just waking up), she turned to see Ranboo still soundly asleep, and hugging at Hertha's waist to keep her in place.

No part of Hertha in that moment felt flustered nor... flattered. Though flattered wasn't the word Hertha would use - she'd rather use swayed. She didn't feel that spectrum of emotions. All that reached her thought was exasperation, and still a drop of confusion, "how did I get here?" She whispered to herself and rested her hand on Ranboo's. She drew circles on his hand gently with her thumb as she processed and admired the sight slightly. Only then did colour reach her cheeks, not for what she was experiencing; but because of her sudden wish to wake up like that every morning. There was something so calming about waking up to the cold morning and having someone hug her. Waking up and hearing his light breathing while she sat and took it all in. She wouldn't mind living a life like that if every morning was the same.

Hertha unwrapped his arms and pushed them under the blue covers, she then slid off of the bed she originally thought was the couch. As she stood and looked at the room, she bit her tongue for her own slowness; why did she think she was on the sofa if she woke up and saw the sofa in front of her? It was beyond her understanding. Even so, she looked at Ranboo sleeping and pitied him for being able to rest in such a bright room. The curtains which Hertha had forgotten to close last night were sitting idly, minding their own business. Hertha made it her objective to ruin that: as she pulled them together and flooded the room in a more comfortable darkness. After that, she pulled her laundry off of her makeshift line and she folded it, letting it sit on the sofa. With one last glance at Ranboo, and the questionable urge to kiss him on the forehead, Hertha left the room and looked around. While fixing her hair, she explored the halls until she heard noise and movement. It was Technoblade talking to Philza by the dining hall.

Technoblade turned to Hertha as she walked past, she thought that maybe the elf-like ears gave him better hearing, "sleep well? You're up quite early," the king asked politely before looking at his pocket clock.

"Mhm, I woke up next to Ranboo this morning... it was odd because I slept," she trailed away and remembered who she was talking to, but he looked amused.

"On the couch? Yes, Venus and I went to check up on the pair of you after hearing you two were quiet for a while. We found you on the couch and thought it was unfitting for a guest. I suggested we moved you onto the bed, apologies. I thought you two would look good together." The king teased while his advisor next to him face-palmed.

"Sorry about him. He isn't usually up this early. But he did, he suggested it and Venus moved you herself. We're sorry." Phil apologised on his king's behalf and looked at Hertha with his fatherly blue eyes. Hertha thought of how it seemed odd (not violating) for someone to take it into themself and being two people together, jokingly, romantically, rudely or otherwise. But she remembered she did the same with the curtains. She was just a curtain and so was Ranboo, with her analogy. Her thought process was then trampled when she realised how silly it was for her to compare herself to a curtain. It was her head making an excuse as to why she didn't mind what the king had done. Philza spoke up again, "why're you up so early?" He cocked his head to the side, similar to how a curious bird would.

"Maid hours. I'm used to waking up early." Hertha brushed off and looked around the halls while Technoblade sifted through the papers in his hand.

"You wake up early over there. No one is awake here... except for us. I should probably get to cooking." Philza realised and began walking away. In an attempt to not be left in an awkward situation with Technoblade, Hertha followed behind offering her services. She could cook, it was a fundamental of every servant who worked in the castle; the royal cook was often ill or just missing. Not that the king cared, his cooking was sublime - often absences didn't affect him. It was better to lose a cook like that temporarily than permanently. However, since Hertha was promoted to a personal maid, she didn't need to cook as many big meals, she only often cooked stews and anything similar for her and her mother.