Moonshine

Chapter 27- Óli Mou I Agápi

όλη μου η αγάπη: óli mou i agápi
Greek
All My Love
-

"One step at a time, alright, just one-"

"I am going to stab you." Sanya proclaimed before she could stop herself.
Not anywhere fatal, though.

Edmund rolled his eyes, "You haven't a sword on your person at the moment. And by the time it takes you to find one, I'll be long gone."

She stuck her tongue out at him, and continued to gingerly climb down the stairs, one of her hands gripping the railing tight and the other holding her husband's hand.

It wasn't her leg- knee, specifically- that was the problem; it was all of her. After so long in Neráida, dying and changing, it was difficult for her body to be readjusted to this realm and being a normal human once more.
Sanya wished the effects of the difficulty were just some fevers and body-aches- those, she could handle. But, no- she was just weak.
She had to use a cane to walk, she had to sit down every few steps, and the only reason the in-castle doctor hadn't prescribed bed-rest for the foreseeable future was because she had been holding her sword tight in her hands.
And perhaps the point of her sword had been aimed at him. Perhaps.
She wouldn't mind bed-rest. She liked beds, and she loved rest. It was just that, she didn't want to be treated like she was just a infirm sack of worthlessness- something which was inevitable, if the doctor confined her to bed.

She just wanted to go back to how it had been. Even if she and Edmund were mentally in such different places than they had been in the Golden Age- at least, physically they could do all that they had. Go swimming, have picnics in flower-fields, read together in the Library, head to the roof to gaze at the stars- everything they had done on their dates.

Well, not everything, obviously. They were only thirteen and fourteen, and- and they just were not ready. But that would come to them naturally, as time went on, because connecting carnally had never been an issue for them.

"I swear to the Heavens, this damned castle has more steps than any other building I've stepped foot in!"

"We're almost at the ground floor." Edmund said, peering around the stone banister. "Just this last flight- seven steps- and we're there."
In the few hundred scenarios he had imagined in which he reunited with his wife- he hadn't quite expected to become her literal crutch. It was frustrating him as well- but, compared to his wife, his patience was boundless.
And it meant she was there. Slow and ill and crabby as she was- she was with him. He would gladly be her human crutch as long as she needed.

Sanya's nostrils flared, and she very determinedly let go of Ed's hand.

"What are you-"

She looked up, and in midst of the determination, there was a fair amount of anxiety.
"If I fall, catch me?"

He did not want to let go of her- by Aslan's Mane, every single healer or doctor or nurse who saw her, said that she ought to be dead- but he knew that she was stubborn and generally capable.
He had to let her go.
Only down the flight of stairs, though. Otherwise, he was never parting away from her, ever again.
"Of course I will." He nodded solemnly. "Not sure I'll be able to carry you like Britos did, though-"

"Only one time." She grumbled, and then began to stomp down the stairs, in a manner even giants would have envied.
Every step hurt, and her knee felt like a puzzle that some child was disassembling- but she had faced much worse. Much, much worse. The scar on her chest was proof of that.
Walking down the stairs was nothing, really- and pain was her constant companion, anyway. Even when she was with Edmund- the pain was diluted by her joy, but wisps of her sorrow and her agony would always trickle in. No matter how hard she tried- she couldn't be as happy as she had hoped.