A Place for Winter

Stumbling over her own feet, Mera was making her way as calmly as she could to where Paris stood talking to some young boys. She really needed to start learning names. But maybe not today. He looked up at her then, his eyes sparkling when he sees her.

It's like time stood still. Just for a moment. Mera could see the rest of what felt like forever.

It was Paris.

Always smiling up at her. Always at her side. Always happy to see her. Always safe.

She could see him. Years in the future. Carrying a little girl on his shoulders, tossing her apples or peaches, turning back to smile at Mera. Still the prince of the streets. Holding her little girl. Loving her little girl.

He was laughing, holding hands with a toddling little boy next to him with the darkest hair and Paris' blue eyes. When Mera stepped towards them, the two children turned, running to her. Instinctively she collected them in her arms, pressing kisses into their hair. They rambled on about what they had been doing with daddy. And they were happy.

When Paris stepped up to her, he took their little girl, threading their fingers together. That was when Mera noticed the thin mental band around his finger. It was Paris. It was always Paris. Paris was always going to be her future. And she suddenly wanted him to be, so very much.

Paris suddenly looked very concerned.

Mera couldn't keep a smile from her face then. Paris was always going to love her. And it seemed so unfair for the rest of the world.

"Is everything alright? Are you alright? Mera?"

"I'm alright. I am," he had one hand on her shoulder and the other at the start of her neck. His eyes dark with fear.

"What's happened?"

"Nothing. Nothing really. I'm going to be fine. I was just talking with Perdita, one of the girls, and she has a brother who is a palace guard. Nassir. She wants to go see him. She asked me to take her when I go next to see, um," she closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and leaned into his hands. "She wants me to take her with me the next time I go to see the Prince."

"You're not going to see the Prince again."

"What?"

"Mera, you told her you're not going to see him again? Didn't you?"

"I didn't know what to say. I, I panicked."

"You can't go back there! I don't want you to go back there!" Paris' grip has tightened on her shoulders and the look in his eyes has become slightly frantic.

"I don't want to go back. Paris! I don't want to go back!" She doesn't want anyone to know, but she can feel the panic rising as her voice becomes shrill in her whispers. "I never want to go back. Ever."

"Never?"

"Never. Ever. Please don't make me go back," her voice cracks, Paris pulls her into his chest. Both of them are breathing hard, their heartbeats out of control. Paris has both hands on her back now, pressing her as close to him as he can. Mera has his shirt fisted in her hands, holding on like letting go would be the death of her. Eventually, slowly, their breathing slows, their heartbeats begin to match one another at a regular pace, and Paris kisses the top of her head lightly.

"I won't. I'm so sorry you had to go there. I'm so sorry all of this happened to you Mera. I'm so sorry," there's a hitch in his voice that has Mera pulling him just a little closer, with less of her own fear and more out of concern for his heart.

"It wasn't your fault Paris. It wasn't. And I'm okay. We'll both be okay. And our little baby is going to be perfect. You're going to be the best father ever." He laughs into her hair softly, she very shyly kisses his neck, and then his jaw, and then his cheek.

"I love you, Paris." She kisses his lips quickly, blushing when she pulls away.

"I love you, Mera." With a gentle hand and tips her head back up to look him in the eye. "We have some other business to attend to." At first she thinks it must be her momentary vision of their future. But then she remembers.

"Have we found someplace to stay?"

"You remember the farmer I mentioned? He said he'd rent his stables out to us. Well I think we've struck a deal."

"Paris! That's such good news!"

"It'll take all day to get us moved, he's on the other side of the city, and a little walk out of town. But it will be worth it. No more death. At least from the cold. Mera, we'll all survive this winter," his eyes are bright, glossy.

"We're going to be okay. What's the cost?" Paris frowns at that.

"It's steep. More than we can probably afford. It's seven pieces of gold a month, and some of us are to do labor on his land to keep our stay there relatively unnoticed for the spring planting. We can probably get paid when spring rolls around and we can help with the planting. But it's going to be steep."

"We'll have to work extra hard to make sure there's enough food."

"I know."

"Paris, I don't know if we'll break even. We might go hungry."

"It was somewhere to sleep or something to eat. And if we all freeze to death it won't matter that we have gold in our pockets and food in our bellies, will it?" He said it with compassion but it still hurt to hear. He was right.

"I just don't know what we'll do."

"I know, I know. We'll figure it out though. We always do."

"Let's tell them."

"Would you like to do the honors?"

"I think they would like to hear from the people's prince."

"I love you, Mera." He turned and began his announcements, the children gathered and there was an almost immediate rumble of excitement at his news.

"I think I want to marry you, Paris. But I'm quite scared." Mera watched him talk, admiring the way he spoke with excitement, authority, and hope. So much hope.