Oh, To Be The Lady's - [A Lady Dimitrescu/Female Reader-Insert Story]

Chapter Forty Nine: To Be Departed

SUMMARY: Prompt by the wonderful @Tiresia: I think I might have suggested this one a while back, but I'd love to see one where the reader gets a panic attack while Alci is away, and hides in one of the wardrobes or linen closets (because it's warm and hidden and smells like her wife), and then Alci has to coax her out of her little makeshift nest when she returns, and holds her.

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A/N: Hi guys, happy Friday! 🥰 I hope everyone had a wonderful Thanksgiving if you celebrate (and if not, I hope you had a wonderful Thursday haha), and I hope you enjoy Chapter 49! Thank you so much for all of your continued love, support and patience, reading all of your lovely comments and talking with you really, truly makes my entire day! 💖

**TRIGGER WARNING: panic attacks, anxiety attacks, separation anxiety, insomnia**

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It's been nearly an entire seven days without Alcina's strong, warm arms wrapped around you and you feel like you could implode.

Rolling over onto your other side with a small huff of annoyance, you blink heavily in the dim light of your bedchambers, your sleep having escaped you for what felt like the thousandth time that night and a millionth time during the last few days.

An entire week. You think, listening as the grandfather clock out in the hall chimes low for 6am.

The light outside the closed curtains is slowly growing brighter and you groan, not wanting to awaken fully and face the day without your Lady again. Despite your best efforts, stinging tears cloud your bloodshot eyes and you angrily wipe them away, annoyed with your own neediness and the longing for your wife that makes your chest ache.

Letting out a deep, weary sigh, you sit up in bed after a few more agonizing minutes of tossing and turning, knowing that there's an extremely high likelihood that you won't be able to go back to sleep.

Trembling in the early morning castle air, you shove your feet in a pair of fuzzy socks, quickly putting a bra on under your nightgown and sliding Alcina's evening robe across your shoulders. Rising from the covers, you stretch for a few seconds, drawing the curtains back from the window and squinting.

The sun hasn't risen yet, probably won't break the horizon for another hour at best and you sigh again as you take in the frosted, Romanian trees and fields around Dimitrescu estate, the glass an inch or so from your nose fogging from your breathing. Reaching up, you draw a little sad face in the haze.

Clicking your tongue, you shut the curtains again and gather your Lady's robe tighter across your shoulders, tugging on a pair of loose sweatpants after a second of contemplation, knowing that the hallways leading down to the kitchen can be chilly this early in the morning. Sucking in a harsh breath once situated, you steel yourself for another long, boring day without your wife at your side, running your free hand through your sleep-tousled hair.

Creaking the large, oak door to yours and your Lady's bedchambers open with a small grunt, you duck out into the little hallway connecting the bathroom and her office down toward the end. Making sure to keep from tripping over the train from Alcina's evening robe that flutters out behind you with each step, you quietly shuffle down the stairs and across the foyer toward the kitchen, nodding politely to each maid or servant fulfilling their duties in the halls.

Making a small cup of coffee, you sit at the kitchen island, kicking your heels against the stool's legs. The castle's quiet around you, the girls are still fast asleep and you would bask in the moment of peace if it didn't make the ache for your wife worse.