"Are you okay?" Gavin asked urgently, standing up from the bed. "Do you feel unwell?"

"I'm... this... why were you–" Gwen couldn't seem to finish any of her thoughts, and her voice was little more than a hoarse whisper from disuse.

The two of them simply stared at one another, neither moving.

He looked fine! Blistering happened in an instant, she knew, but his lips, his complexion, everything looked fine! Aside from a bit of red around his eyes, he looked just as he had a few minutes ago.

What was going on?

She'd had some coloured balm applied to her lips earlier while preparing for the wedding – Gwen could still feel some traces of soft wax. But something like that wouldn't be enough to protect him from her, would it? Surely not.

Gavin's eyes focused on Gwen's mouth, as though his thoughts somehow mirrored her own, and his look of confusion intensified. Then he looked to the knife that lay at her feet.

"Why were you–" he began.

"What happened?" she blurted. "You fell, and I thought–"

Gwen looked away from him to the spot where he'd been laying a second ago. Her own look of confusion was probably the match of his.

Gavin looked to the bed, then back to her.

"I was... I'm sorry. I just–" He glanced at the bed again, wiping a tear with the back of his hand. "I was upset. I thought something terrible had happened. But you're not... I mean, I didn't...."

He looked momentarily distressed and his voice trailed off.

Silence once more dominated the room as they stared at one another, and Gwen, not trusting herself to stand upright, carefully lowered herself into the nearby chair and tried to think.

Was he hurt? He didn't look it. He did seem disoriented though. Was it from the poison?

"I don't understand," Gwen said, her voice sounding slightly raspy. She frowned, and attempted to clear her throat a few times, an activity that drew a renewed look of concern from Gavin.

"No! I'm... you need to–" he stammered. Then, closing his eyes, he gave a growl of frustration and looked to the ceiling.

What the heck was going on!? He was far less articulate all of a sudden. He hadn't sounded like this when speaking to her earlier, not at all! Was the toxin affecting his ability to talk?

"I'm... it's th–that I–" He sat down heavily on the bed and ran his fingers through his hair, like he was trying to think.

There was something familiar about the hesitation in his voice as he spoke, Gwen realized. It was almost like it was....

A compulsion?

Looking lost in thought, Gavin appeared to realize something, turning to Gwen a moment later.

"You wish me to tell you something about myself?" Gavin asked, his words sounding as though carefully spoken. "What I've been wanting to say to you?"

"Yes," she agreed, instantly.

"No!" he half-shouted, burying his head in his palms. Then he calmed himself, sat up, took a quick breath, and gave her an earnest look. "You wish me to tell you," he repeated, not making it a question.

Gwen's brow furrowed in confusion.

"I do," she said, nodding slowly.

Giving her a desperate look, Gavin waved his hands as though encouraging her to continue speaking.

"I... wish for you to tell me... what you've been wanting to tell me?" she managed to say, haltingly. She had a feeling she looked about as confused as she sounded just then.

Gavin closed his eyes and fell backward into the bed, groaning as though exhausted, his hands covering his face. At first Gwen thought it was because he was even more frustrated than before, but when he finally removed his hands from his face, the expression she saw on it was one of profound relief.

"Oh, thank the Goddess!" He sat back up on the bed, turned to her, his expression serious and alert. "Okay, this is hard to explain, but you're in danger. You can't do that again. Ever!" He gave her a slightly forlorn look. "Despite how much I really, really want you to. Are you feeling unwell? Dizzy? We need a towel, or something to wipe your lips, just in case."

His voice trailed off as his gaze darted around the room, eventually falling upon the tablecloth. In the blink of an eye he'd jumped up from the bed and dashed over to the table next to her, yanking away the cloth that had been draped over it. Food and silverware fell to the floor, and all the while Gwen sat immobile, trying to piece together what was happening.

"Here, quickly!" he said, holding the cloth out for her to take. "Look, I know this seems strange, but I need you to wipe your lips. And try not to touch them with your tongue when you do. Or swallow. Try not to do that either!"

She stared at what he offered. The white of the tablecloth was almost indistinguishable from the white officer's gloves he'd worn during the ceremony, the same gloves he still wore for some reason, which–

It hit her, very suddenly, and everything coalesced.

He was behaving exactly as she might if she'd poisoned someone!

And then Gwen was lightheaded and dizzy, her thoughts becoming a whirlwind of revelations. She felt her muscles suddenly relax, and she practically melted into the cushions of her chair. At that moment, though it seemed impossible, she knew why he was acting this way. She knew why he hadn't died.

Unable to help herself, Gwen began to giggle.

Gavin somehow managed to look even more distressed than before, and the look on his face caused Gwen to laugh even harder.

"Euphoria! Quickly, rub this on your face!" he said. "And... spit! You need to spit into the towel! I'll get some water, or wine – something to rinse with! We've got–"

She was now laughing so hard tears blurred her vision. She could barely make out the form of Gavin as he grabbed decanter and goblet, made a botch of pouring and turned to her in exasperation.

"You've been poisoned! This is one of the effects," he cried. "Look, this is going to sound very strange, but my father sent me here to kill you! He has designs on your kingdom, and wishes to merge it with ours and rule over both. That's been his plan all along, this whole time! For years he's been planning this! You see, ever since I was a boy, I was forced to eat–"

"–a horrible blue-green herb," she managed to say through her laughter. "You've been fed it every day."

Speechless, Gavin simply stared down at her, his eyes wide. His newest expression just made Gwen want to start laughing all over again, but she eventually managed to control herself.

"I–" Gavin began, fixing her with a stupefied look. "My father said knowledge of it had been kept secret! You... your people know of the herb? You have an antidote? Immunity?"

"The herb is called chi'darro, which I suspect is some sort of foreign word meaning tastes like chalk fried in rancid butter, but I can't be certain," she said, grinning. Her relief was probably making her the tiniest bit silly, she realized, but she didn't really care. She'd been so serious, so miserable, for so very long. A little silliness seemed a bit like medicine all of a sudden.

Gavin blinked at her.

"You're... you... how could you know what it tastes like?" he asked, looking even more uncertain and amazed. Then his expression changed to one of dawning realization. "You've been... but you can't have, can you? It's just–"

"I've been given it my whole life. My father's plans sound almost identical to your father's. He sent me into this marriage to poison and kill you. I didn't want to. I foiled him once before, and managed to warn off one other prince, but my father made extra certain I couldn't do anything this time around," she said, feeling herself growing hoarse. She fanned a gesture in front of her neck apologetically, swallowing and clearing her throat once again. "I haven't been able to talk for weeks, thanks to something called a geis sphere, or I would have tried to warn you."

He watched her intently as she spoke, and after a while his confused look became one of thoughtful understanding, and he seemed to nod to himself. Then, Gwen saw the tiniest amount of suspicion cross his face, and his brow furrowed.

"You kissed me," he accused. "Is this some sort of trick? Why would you have kissed me if you didn't want me dead? And you had a knife, just now! What exactly were you planning on doing with that?"

Gwen bridled at the implication at first, but quickly realized how strange and unlikely things might appear from his perspective. This development was about the last thing she'd been expecting; he'd likely been taken completely by surprise as well, and was merely being cautious. Understandable, really.

"When you thought you'd killed me," she asked, "did it feel like you'd be able to live with yourself, Gavin?" She took a breath. "I had the knife because, because I...."

She shrugged.

Gavin appeared to consider that. "And the kiss? Why would you kiss me if–"

"I didn't want to kiss you. Well, actually, I suppose that's not exactly true. It was a compulsion, part of that geis sphere I mentioned. It took effect when we were wed. It, uh," Gwen looked away a moment, feeling heat rise to her cheeks. "It made me really, really want to."

She watched him raise a brow to that, consider her, and then he grinned like sun after a storm. In that moment, Gwen understood why Gavin's grin had become the talk of the castle.

"You know, It occurs to me to wonder if I might have been hit with something similar," he said, a playful glint in his eyes. "Honestly, ever since I laid eyes on you, I've really, really wanted to kiss you as well."

Gwen felt her cheeks redden further. Then she remembered something, and her eyes narrowed.

"Oh, and what would your girlfriend think?" she asked tartly.

Somehow, Gavin managed to appear even more bewildered than he had just a few short minutes ago.

"What?"

"Your father already mentioned the girlfriend you left back home," she said, realizing she sounded accusatory. "He told my father and me all about it. That someone special you are in love with back in Rhegar? What would she–"

"Gwenwyn?" he interrupted, already shaking his head. "Do you have a boyfriend? A special someone?"

"Well no, obviously," she said, giving him a look. "I can't, because I'm... I–"

"You're like me," Gavin said, lowering himself into a crouch before her, shaking his head once again. "No, there's no girlfriend back home. My father is a wretch, and a liar. A waste of skin. Like I said before, he brought me here to kill you. I found out about his plans a long time ago. He became rather upset I wasn't willing to play along with his grand scheme. Eventually he had to put me under a wish compulsion just to keep me manageable. I've been trying to get around it for years." Gavin took a quick breath before continuing. "Even though I was bound to do exactly as he wished, I tried everything I could think of to confound his plans. Wearing my riding leathers when we first met, acting aloof, refusing to look at you, all so you might feel uneasy, pressure your father into calling the wedding off, or perhaps choose to run away rather than acquiesce to an arranged marriage."

Gwen sat there, stunned. It was almost as if they'd been leading identical lives!

"So, if you were trying to get around your compulsion, why was it that when I wished that–"

"Whoa, whoa, careful! Please!" he said quickly, holding his hands out toward her. "Don't use that word, I can tell it's still active. I literally have to do what my father wishes."

"But, I'm not your father!"

"Yes, but last night he was in his cups, celebrating. I don't think he was thinking too clearly. He called me to his quarters late last night and rather drunkenly went over his plan – told me he wished for me to go through the wedding ceremony without fuss, and once that was done I should bring you back to the bedroom with all haste, and, uh–" Gavin flushed. "He told me I should do the sort of thing brides wish for their husbands to do on their wedding night." He took a slow, careful breath. "I think he meant it as a joke, or to torture me further, but he actually used the word wish. I don't know if he knew he'd said it or not, but I could feel it! So, I figured if I got you to wish for something—"

"Wait, you were trying to get me to wish to never see you again!"

He nodded somberly. "I knew if you said it, I'd be able to leave the castle. I'd grab my horse and ride somewhere, someplace far away, where no-one would find me. In truth, I'd probably just end up dying in the forest; I can't go very long without the herb. I tried giving it up once, but just that once. It was pretty awful." Gavin gave her a look. "But at least you'd still be alive. I mean, you didn't deserve to die."

Gwen thought about how desperately, how earnestly he'd tried getting her to send him away. And all that time, attempting to convince her, trying to coax her into saying those words out loud, he knew he risked his own life.

She couldn't even describe the thoughts and feelings that warred for her attention all of a sudden.

"However, the problem right now is that we've only solved half the puzzle," he said, running his fingers through his hair in a way she was beginning to find familiar. "I'm still under my father's control; I can sense it. I still have to do as he wishes, unfortunately. I probably have to do what you wish as well, at least for the moment. Right now I just need you to avoid saying the word wish to me until we can figure out some way around this compulsion."

"Like if I were to say to you: I wish for you to ignore the wish compulsion?" she asked.

"Don't–" he began, his arms raised as if trying to shield himself. Then he gaped and stared at his outstretched arms as though they were completely unfamiliar. His expression changed from one of anxiety to bafflement, then surprise, and finally wonder.

"Did that do it?" Gwen asked, feeling faintly smug.

"It's... gone!" he gasped, staring at Gwen as though she'd just performed a miracle.

The look of utter astonishment on Gavin's face was enough to cause Gwen to collapse back into her chair in another fit of giggling. It felt good to laugh, she realized. She hadn't laughed about anything in such a long time.

Gavin remained crouched on his heels a few feet away from her. He inspected his arms periodically, as though there was something new and surprising about them. Then he'd look at her and smile good-naturedly, and Gwen suspected he was mere moments away from laughing as well.

Then, suddenly, his expression became serious. He stood up.

"My father has people watching this room. Your father might as well, actually. We're blind to what might be waiting for us, but we probably have the element of surprise. We're going to need to come up with some sort of a plan. He glanced around the room. "Likely our only assets are here with us, whatever we can find and make use of."

"Rhosyn," she said.

He looked over to her, a question on his face.

"My lady-in-waiting. She's being held hostage to ensure I cooperate."

"Just one more thing we need to remedy," he said. "Do you know where she's being kept?"

"No, but I had a thought during the ceremony. We could leverage the fact we're now king and queen to our advantage, use that power. I don't think either of our fathers counted on that. Or this." She gestured to indicate them both.

"I'll bet they didn't," he said, pacing to one side, looking thoughtful. "The first thing we're going to have to do is gain the support of some strong arms, and-"

There were many ways that they could go about this whole thing, she realized. Gwen herself had already come up with one or two notions of how they might be able to work this situation to their advantage. With both their fathers being so secretive about their respective plans, the two of them would definitely have the element of surprise. They had time to come up with something, she knew.

But as for right now....

Gwen realized that she was watching Gavin intently as he paced in front of her. He was animatedly talking over some of the possibilities they could pursue, staring through the floor as he spoke, seemingly lost in thought.

She began peeling off her gloves.

"–are loyal to the Crown, not my father," he said, wagging a finger excitedly. "Which could help us, of course. The real problem is that the only orders Father's knights will accept are written ones. I believe that's how my father wished to control me – how he'd continue to rule once he'd made me king. I was kept away from books of any sort, and forbidden to read them, so that when it came to laws–"

"Gavin?" Gwen said softly.

"–he'd be the only one who could pass them, because I can't write." He looked at her and she saw realization dawn. "But you can write! And because we're king and queen now, our word is law... which means we–"

"We'll figure it out, Gavin. We have time," Gwen said, slowly rising from her chair.

"Yes, but once we figure out how we can go about this, we'll–"

"Gavin?" she repeated quietly.

"Hmmm?" he asked distractedly, turning to face her.

Once he actually saw her, he no longer looked distracted in the slightest. If anything, he looked almost exactly the way he had when he was standing by the altar, wide-eyed and staring.

She closed the distance between them in a few unhurried steps. By the time she'd stopped, Gwen was standing about a foot away from him with one hand raised in front of her, her palm facing him, her fingers spread. She looked him directly in the eye at first, and then moved her gaze down to his own hand, saying nothing.

The two of them simply stood there, facing one another.

Swallowing hard, Gavin slowly raised his own hand up. Then, spying the white officer's glove he still wore, he quickly shed it before starting the whole process over... gradually raising his arm and lifting his hand up, fingers spread, mirroring her own gesture.

They stayed like that a few moments, hands inches apart. Gwen felt her lower lip begin to tremble, and she was filled with a strange mix of uncertainty, nervousness, and anticipation all at once.

Gwen slowly eased her hand forward, towards his, noting that Gavin's own hands were shaking slightly.

Carefully, delicately, their fingertips touched.

And all of the butterflies in Gwen's entire world took flight all at once.

Closing her eyes, Gwen felt fresh tears spilling down her cheek, and some part of her realized she was smiling. Her shoulders shook slightly, and she felt almost like she was laughing and crying at the same time.

Contact. The touch of another. And not a fleeting touch, either, but gentle yet insistent, almost as if to reassure her that this feeling wasn't going anywhere. Actual warmth under her fingertips – it was a feeling that was almost too good to be real. She savored it as though it might disappear any second.

Tiny shivers scurried back and forth along her shoulders, and she found it difficult to keep the trembling from reaching her arms.

She opened her eyes to look at Gavin. Mouth half open, he was staring at their fingertips pressing together as though enraptured by it. The beginnings of tears had begun welling up in the corners of his eyes as well.

Her father's plans, his father's plans, the various plans the two of them would have to come up with... none of it mattered in that moment. Everything else in the whole world dissolved into nothingness next to one, simple truth.

He was like her.

They could touch.

There was time, she knew. The Goddess of Wisdom wasn't blind after all – She'd known exactly what She'd been doing. Eirene had indeed blessed them both, blessed this union. All of the talking and planning they had to do could wait for a little while. Right at this particular moment, however, she was alone in a room with someone who couldn't be hurt by her poisonous nature, possibly the only other person in the entire world. Someone who could perhaps understand what she'd gone through her whole life, and in ways nobody else possibly could.

Her life wasn't a tragedy at all, she realized. It was a fairy tale.

And she had found her prince.

They both stood there for several long minutes, touching fingertips, marvelling at the feel of it.

Gwen raised her other hand, and Gavin matched her actions, the fingertips of their other hands now touching as well.

"That compulsion, the one your father put on you," she whispered. "The wish compulsion. Are you sure it's completely gone?"

"I'm sure," he said, his tone slightly husky.

"Husband?" she said, smiling shyly, slipping her fingers between his and clasping his hand firmly but tenderly. "I wish for you to kiss me."

For a second it appeared as though he could barely draw breath, and he seemed startled. Then, after a few moments, he smiled down at her, and Gwen knew she'd devote every waking moment doing whatever was necessary in order to see that smile again and again.

"Well," he said, his voice little more than a whisper, "perhaps there might be some traces of it still hanging around."

He slowly tilted his head towards her, slow enough to make her ache.

Their lips touched.

It was tiny earthquakes in her tummy, in her fingers, all over. It was like nothing she'd ever dared to dream before. It was pure, breathtaking joy.

When the kiss finally ended, Gwen was engulfed by a lingering sense of wonder, and quickly found herself very much looking forward to his next kiss. Then, realizing that she needn't wait for him to do it, she kissed him right back.

It was then she discovered she could kiss while smiling, and that was wonderful too.

And that night, though they'd scarcely spoken a word to each other until that day, the two of them made a great many of their heart's desires come true.