Expectations had been laid upon the fae prince since the time of his birth. He was expected to be the perfect heir to the Seelie Court and the future king of the fae. He was expected to uphold himself with honor and dignity at all times. To become more than just another fae of noble blood. His power had blossomed early, becoming apparent to all those around him that magic, the gods, perhaps both had blessed him with approval. There was the expectation of his court, his people, the fae kingdom, his mother, the queen, and now the human kingdom as well. So much upon his shoulders, though the weight was such a familiar friend that he didn’t quite realize it was there. Not, at least, until he felt it lift when Desdemona seemed to expect very little from him. Many, perhaps, might take such knowledge and hold it in offense. After all, as future partners in life, to expect things from one another was… well… expected. It was part of any human relationship, as far as Aurelion was aware, and yet she didn’t expect him to do much more than the bare minimum of what their relationship called for. That had him wanting to do a great deal more for her. In the span of the few hours he had known her, he had quickly come to realize that she was so very different than most humans he had crossed paths with.

Love might be out of the question between two creatures so different, but certainly friendship was not. And, he was coming to realize, he desperately wanted to hold that title in her eyes. Friend. It had been so very long since he’d had a human friend; perhaps he was due for one. Humans were different from the fae in a variety of ways, but that didn’t mean they were inferior to the beings that survived eons. Their lives were short, yes, but they were able to do so many great things in the few years that they had been granted life upon this earth. They were intelligent beings, understanding and capable of love in ways that weren’t familiar to the fae people.

As the hours of the night morphed into the early hours of the morning, still separated from the arrival of the sun by a good amount of time, Aurelion continued to move, walking through the garden with his future bride upon his arm. It was soothing, being here with her. Calming and peaceful in a way he hadn’t known in well over a hundred years, and he didn’t wish for it to end any time soon. Of course, should she grow weary and wish to retire to her chambers for the remainder of the night, he would let her, but until then, he would fully enjoy her company.

For a being that had lived through the Sundering War and who had the great expanse of the future waiting for him, its arms of time spread open wide in welcome, reading had helped to pass the time. It was one of the few things that he had come to treasure because, with every year that passed, new books would appear, old books would remain, and he could continue to read. He could go on adventures with characters born from the minds of some magnificent artist of words, or he could learn about some important figure in human history. Books would never disappear, of that he was certain. Too many people relied on their existence, both in the fae realm and in the mortal world. The infinite stretch of time embraced the literary works of the world as it embraced him, and he found a great deal of comfort in that knowledge.

When the soft sound of Desdemona’s voice broke the silence, the fae prince looked towards her. He listened reverently as she spoke, dipping his head in a nod at her words. A noble interest. He quite liked the way that had been worded. A great many things could be learned from the words printed on a page, and many more emotions could be evoked. A warm and light laughter bubbled up within him and erupted into the coolness of the night as Desdemona spoke of her time being spent more in the company of ledgers and reports than anything else. “I am quite familiar with materials.” And he was, well, over five hundred years had seen him writing, reading, and interpreting such things for the court, the queen, and for himself. At her last couple of words, the fae prince listened with as much intent and interest as he’d had since they first began speaking. He watched as the wind caressed her skin and ran its invisible fingers through her hair, lifting it and gently pulling it along on its current before reluctantly letting go. “I think…” He started and lifted his free hand to carefully and gently brush aside the strands of hair that had blown into Desdemona’s face. “I would very much like that.” He finished, his tone honest and genuine.