OBSESSED with these two

"In the palace courtyard, King Azar and his confidant, Idris, exchanged their usual banter. Servants bustled about, preparing the palace for the night ahead, when a sudden interruption came – a messenger bearing news of a visitor seeking an audience with the king."

"Azar's curiosity piqued, evident in the subtle raise of his eyebrow as he exchanged a glance with Idris."

"Well, well," "he mused, the corners of his lips twitching with restrained amusement." “Who could possibly be seeking my audience at this hour, Idris?”

"Idris, ever the man of mischief, leaned in with a playful glint in his gaze."

“Why, I took it upon myself to invite a guest to make a dull day a little more interesting.”

"Azar chuckled." “Dull? With you around, I hardly get a moment's peace."

"Before Idris could retort, the heavyset doors creaked open, admitting a figure into the courtyard."

"Azar strides over, a mixture of curiosity and concern etched on his handsome features. Idris lingers close behind him, studying you with fascination."

"Your Majesty," the lead guard bows his head slightly. "This woman claims to be Lady Rosalind Lockwood.”

"Is that so?" Azar's voice is smooth as silk, but there's an edge of steel beneath. He regards you speculatively.

"Azar's eyes widen and his mouth forms a stunned "O" shape when Rosalind removes her hood. Idris gasps in recognition, taking a step forward so that he's beside Azar."

"Rosalind," Azar breathes out her name, his face breaking out into an incredulous smile. "By the gods, it's really you. You're alive."

"Indeed she is," Idris drawls in a low voice, looking Rosalind up and down with thinly veiled interest. "It seems Lady Lockwood is not as dead as we all believed."

Azar turns to Idris, his expression stern, and silences him with a look. Turning back to Rosalind, he runs his eyes over her, taking in her battered state.

"How?" he asks softly.

Idris smirks at Rosalind's comment, shaking his head amusedly. "I see you haven't lost your spirit, little rose," he teases.

Azar scowls at Idris before turning back to Rosalind, his eyes locked on her battered form. "Come with us, Rosalind. We'll get you some food and water, and from there we'll hear your story."

He starts to move forward to take Rosalind's arm in his hand, ready to lead her into the palace.

Azar immediately kneels beside Rosalind, his face etched with concern. "Rosalind, what's wrong?" he asks in a low voice, his hand hovering uncertainly near her back.

Idris, still standing behind Azar, scowls at the guards. "Didn't you offer her any water? Food?" he snaps, glaring at them coldly. "Take her to the infirmary at once. I want her treated like a queen."

The guards nod quickly, one helping Rosalind up while the other gets some water from a nearby fountain. Azar doesn't leave her side, gently rubbing her back in an attempt to calm her.

Idris chuckles darkly at Rosalind's parting words despite the situation. “Even on death's door, she has spirit,” he muses.

Azar sweeps Rosalind easily into his arms, holding her slight form protectively against his chest. "Take us to the infirmary now," he demands, his tone brooking no argument. He hurries after the guards, worry creasing his brow as he feels her labored breathing.

Idris walks briskly beside them, matching Azar's long strides easily. He peers down at Rosalind's waxen face, and though his smirk remains, there's a hint of concern in his eyes as well. "Hang in there, little rose," he murmurs. "Don't you dare die on us now."

Idris has been sitting quietly by Rosalind's bedside for some time, watching her toss and turn, his hazel-green eyes fixed intently on her face. He reaches out to brush a strand of red hair away from her face with gentle fingertips.

"Rosalind," he whispers softly. "Can you hear me?"

There's no response from the sleeping woman, save for a low moan as she turns restlessly in her feverish dreams. Idris sighs and leans back in his chair, studying her thoughtfully.

They hadn't parted on the best of terms all those years ago, but even so, there's a spark of curiosity burning bright within him now. What could have happened to Rosalind during her time in captivity? What secrets has she been keeping in that sharp mind of hers?

His thoughts are interrupted by the sound of footsteps outside the door, and he rises smoothly to his feet as Azar enters the infirmary. The king looks tired but alert, his purple eyes dark with concern as he surveys Rosalind's still form.

"How is she?" he asks in a low voice, coming over to stand beside Idris.

Idris turns his head to look at Azar, a faint smile playing about his lips. "Restless, but she'll pull through," he replies quietly. "She's got a strong spirit, our little rose."

Azar nods, his gaze fixed on Rosalind's pale face. "I've had the royal physician come and examine her. She's malnourished and dehydrated, but there doesn't appear to be any lasting damage," he murmurs, relief flooding his face.

Idris nods thoughtfully. "It's a miracle she's alive at all," he says softly. "Seven years in captivity... I can only imagine what horrors she's seen."

Azar's expression darkens at the thought, his hand unconsciously tightening on Idris' shoulder. "We'll find out soon enough. For now, we need to let her rest and heal. After that, we'll get to the bottom of this mystery."

Idris nods again, his eyes flickering up to meet Azar's. "Of course, your Majesty," he replies, his tone respectful. "Whatever you say."

Idris leans forward in his chair, placing a cool hand on Rosalind's forehead in an attempt to soothe her. Her skin is hot and clammy to the touch, and he winces inwardly at how weak she seems.

"Shh, Rosalind," he whispers softly, stroking her hair back from her face. "You're safe now. You're with us."

Despite the pang of guilt he feels at their complicated history, he can't help but feel a flicker of something for the woman in front of him. She's been through so much, lost everything she once held dear, and yet somehow still managed to come out alive on the other side.

In a way, he empathizes with her more than anyone else in Azar's court. They share a certain... resilience that few others possess. And now that she's back, he can't help but wonder what kind of trouble they could cause together, if given the opportunity.

Idris leans back in his chair, his hands held up in a surrendering gesture as he watches Rosalind sit up abruptly, a look of panic in her eyes. Once he's sure she's not going to bolt, he rises smoothly to his feet and moves to the edge of the bed, settling onto it carefully.

"Easy now," he murmurs soothingly, his voice low and gentle. "You're safe here. You're with us."

Idris nods in response to Rosalind's question, a reassuring smile on his lips. "Yes, the royal physician has already taken a look at you. You've been treated for dehydration and given some nourishment to help restore your strength."

His hazel-green eyes study her closely, searching for some sign of how she's feeling now that she's awake. "How are you feeling?" he asks softly.

Idris chuckles faintly at Rosalind's comment, his gaze sliding over her slight form. "Ah, but you wear grime quite well," he teases lightly, a hint of mischief in his voice.

He pauses for a moment to consider her words, his brow furrowing slightly. "Well, we can't have that. I'll have one of the servants bring some fresh clothes and a bath for you at once. You'll feel better in no time."

He stands up and moves over to the window, peering out at the late afternoon light. "It'll take some time for you to fully recover, of course. But rest assured, you're safe here with us."

Idris turns to face Rosalind again, a wry smile playing about his lips. "Ah, the memories you bring back," he says, amusement lacing his voice. "Yes, I'm the Royal Advisor now. It's amazing what one can achieve with good looks and a bit of cunning, isn't it?"

He moves back toward the bed, a hint of playfulness in his gaze. "But don't worry, little rose, I still know how to make trouble when the occasion calls for it."

Idris chuckles at Rosalind's observation, his eyes crinkling with amusement. "You always were a sharp one, weren't you, little rose?" he says affectionately.

He meets her eyes and nods. "Yes, I'm still here, and Azar is well," he replies honestly. "We've been through a lot together over the years. And despite all our differences, we've become...well, inseparable."

The wistful note in his voice speaks volumes about his feelings for the king. He doesn't need to say anything more; the unspoken words hang heavy in the air between them.

Idris arches an eyebrow at Rosalind's tone of voice, a slight smirk crossing his lips. "Well, it's hardly a competition, little rose," he says with a hint of teasing in his voice. "I'm sure there's room enough in Azar's heart for all those who matter to him."

He studies her closely, an oddly gentle expression on his face. "You know, we were all so worried when we heard the news of your family's estate being burned down. We thought we'd lost you forever."

His tone is sincere, and there's a hint of something wistful in his gaze as he speaks. "But you're back now. You made it through. And...well, I'm glad."

Idris chuckles softly, moving over to the bed and taking a seat beside Rosalind. "I can be full of surprises," he quips lightly, nudging her shoulder playfully.

He grows more serious after a moment, his gaze intent on hers. "But in all honesty, Rosalind, I'm just glad you made it back to us. The world would be a duller place without you in it."

His tone is quiet, but the sincerity in his voice is palpable. For a moment, he looks almost vulnerable, as though he's revealing something deep within himself. But then he shakes his head and the moment passes. "Now then, how about that bath? I'll have the servants prepare everything right away."

Idris pauses at Rosalind's touch, turning back to look at her with an expression of surprise. For a moment, he just stares at her, as though trying to read something in her gaze. But then he offers her a small smile, his eyes gentle.

"Thank you, little rose," he says softly, placing a hand on hers. "That means a lot to me."

Then he stands up and moves toward the door, calling for one of the servants to bring fresh clothes and prepare a bath for Rosalind. She can hear the excitement in his voice, the anticipation of trouble and adventure just around the corner. It's a feeling she remembers all too well.

Idris chuckles at Rosalind's surprise. "The very same," he confirms, his arm steady around her waist to help support her still-weak frame.

He gazes down at her, hazel eyes bright with amusement. "We thought it might lift your spirits to wake up to the scent of flowers instead of the stench of this sickroom." His voice drops lower, more intimate. "Plus, it has a certain... sentimental value, wouldn't you say?"

As they slowly make their way down the hall, he studies her profile, taking in all the changes wrought by time and hardship. But beneath it all, he still recognizes the fierce, fiery spirit that has always burned within her.

"It will be good to have you near again, little rose," he murmurs. There's no banter or jest in his tone now - only a simple statement of truth.

Idris chuckles at Rosalind's teasing words, giving her a gentle nudge with his elbow. "Ah, but have they really?" he asks, a mischievous glint in his eye.

He steers her into a spacious bedchamber and helps her sit down on the edge of the bed while the servants go about preparing the bath. "I may not be as...rash as I once was," he admits, settling down on the nearby couch. "But let's just say that Azar keeps me on my toes."

He looks over at Rosalind, taking in the sight of her as she sits there, her hair somewhat mussed and her clothes rumpled from her ordeal. Despite everything, she still exudes an air of elegance and grace that he's always admired.

"It's good to have you home again," he says simply. "You've been missed."

Idris' expression softens at Rosalind's question, his hand moving to rest on hers. "Of course I'm okay," he replies softly. "Why shouldn't I be?"

He studies her for a moment, trying to read something in her gaze. "But if you're asking whether I'm worried about your return..." he trails off, looking away for a moment before returning his attention to her.

"I won't lie to you, Rosalind. We all assumed you were...dead." His tone is quiet, and there's a hint of pain in his voice as he speaks. "It was a terrible time for all of us. And now that you're back..."

He hesitates for a moment, then reaches out to take her hand in his once more. "We're all just glad to have you back, little rose. Don't mistake our concern for anything other than that."

Idris squeezes Rosalind's hand gently, his eyes holding hers with a steady gaze. "We're your friends, Rosalind," he says softly. "We all care about you, even if we don't always show it in the best way."

He leans in closer, his voice dropping lower. "If there's anything you need...anything at all...just let us know, all right?"

There's a hint of vulnerability in his gaze as he speaks, as though he's revealing something deep within himself. But then he straightens up and pats her hand reassuringly. "In the meantime, I'll go check on the bath. I'm sure it's ready by now." And with that, he rises to his feet and heads out of the room, leaving Rosalind to her thoughts.

Idris watches Rosalind with empathetic eyes, taking note of how her fingers tremble ever so slightly as she speaks. His heart aches for all she has endured.

"We all take simple pleasures for granted," he remarks quietly, moving closer. "But I can only imagine what these small comforts must mean to you now, after so long."

Idris looks into Rosalind's eyes, noting the strain there. Despite all their differences, he can't help but feel a sense of responsibility for her well-being.

With a gentle smile, he nods and steps up to her, his movements careful as he helps her undress. His hands are steady and sure, guiding her through each movement. He treats her with a deference that speaks to the respect he harbors for her, for all she has endured.

Idris' fingers linger on the bruises lining her skin, his brow furrowed with concern. He can't even fathom what she's been through these past years – the horrors she's witnessed and the pain she's endured.

But he knows one thing for certain, as he helps her into the steaming water: he'll do everything in his power to make sure she feels safe and loved. He'll do his best to provide her with the support she needs, in whatever form that takes.

The water soothes Rosalind's aching muscles, and she can't help but let out a soft sigh of relief. For the first time in years, she feels a glimmer of hope – maybe she can rebuild her life anew. Maybe it's not too late for her after all.

Idris sees the hesitation in Rosalind's eyes and the way she pulls back slightly, almost recoiling from his touch, and he knows what she must be feeling: the shame, the fear, the uncertainty that come with being vulnerable.

He doesn't push her, just holds out the soap with a gentle expression on his features. "It's all right," he says softly. "Just let me help you. It's what friends are for."

There's no judgement or pity in his voice – just a quiet understanding of all she's been through. Slowly, he begins to wash her hair and body, his fingers as gentle as butterfly wings as they glide over her skin.

For a long moment, there is only silence between them, the only sound the soft splashing of the water. But gradually, as the bath goes on, the tension in Rosalind's body starts to ease, replaced by a growing sense of calm. For the first time in years, she feels as though she's finally able to breathe again.

Idris' touch becomes a bit more deliberate as he works the soap through Rosalind's hair and over her body, his movements slow and controlled. He can feel the tension in her slowly dissipating, and something inside him relaxes along with her.

He chuckles softly at her protest, his fingers still working through her hair. "Maybe you're right," he agrees. "But old habits die hard, little rose."

He falls silent for a moment, lost in thought as he continues to massage her scalp. "I remember when I first started calling you that," he murmurs, his voice soft. "We were children, but even then...you had this fierce spirit that always drew me to you. You were never afraid to speak your mind, or stand up for what you believed in."

He takes a deep breath before continuing, his gaze distant. "Sometimes, I think that maybe...if we'd been different people, if our circumstances had been different...things between us might have been different too."

Idris' gaze meets Rosalind's, his expression pensive. "I suppose that's true," he admits. "But...I don't know. There was always something between us, even when we were at our worst."

He pauses for a moment before continuing, his voice low. "Maybe it's just my imagination, but sometimes I feel like there might have been something there, beneath the surface. Something we never quite had the courage to explore."

Idris holds Rosalind's gaze, his expression deepening. "Of course I remember," he replies softly. "How could I forget?"

There's a flicker of something in his gaze – pain? longing? – before it disappears. "It was...something we both needed, I think," he continues, more hesitantly this time. "After all the years of tension and rivalry, it felt like a release. Like something had finally shifted between us."

He pauses for a beat. "But then...everything changed. The fire happened. You were taken away." His voice turns pensive. "I always wondered, you know, if things had gone differently...would we have been able to make things work between us?"

Idris sits back, a troubled expression on his face. "I don't know," he admits quietly, running a hand through his hair. "It's complicated. I'd be lying if I said I didn't feel...something for you. But at the same time, we were both so young, and we had so much else going on in our lives."

He leans in, his gaze searching. "What about you, Rosalind? Do you regret what happened between us?"

Idris' expression softens, his eyes full of sympathy and understanding. "Oh, Rosalind," he murmurs, reaching out to lay a hand on her arm. "I had no idea..."

He falls silent for a moment, just gazing at her with an intensity that betrays the depth of his emotion. "I'm so sorry," he finally says, the words carrying a weight of sadness.

"But I'm glad...if that memory...if what we shared together helped you to find some measure of peace, some measure of comfort...then I'm glad."

Idris' expression turns contemplative at her words, his gaze unfocussed for a moment. "No," he says quietly. "I never told him. It felt...wrong, somehow, to talk about it."

He runs a hand through his hair, looking a bit troubled. "But at the same time...I don't know. Maybe it's time we had a conversation about it. Maybe it's time we talked about everything that's happened between us over the years."

Idris looks deep in thought, his gaze searching out Rosalind's. "You're right," he admits finally. "This is a complex situation, and...you're right, it could make things more difficult."

"But maybe...maybe there's a way to approach it. A way that doesn't cause more pain or confusion than necessary. We can talk about it. In time."

Idris nods in understanding. "I won't bring it up right away," he says reassuringly. "But...it feels like something we need to work through, eventually."

He leans back, his gaze thoughtful. "For now, let's just focus on making sure you're safe and secure, Rosalind. That's all that really matters at the moment."

Idris continues his ministrations, washing away all the grime and dirt from Rosalind's skin with gentle strokes. He moves with a careful precision, making sure to avoid any sensitive areas that might cause her pain or discomfort.

As he works, he can feel the tension in her body slowly melting away – the knots in her muscles loosening, the lines in her face smoothing out. Even with everything that's happened between them over the years, there's something deeply comforting about being able to provide this small measure of care for her, to be there for her in a moment of need.

And for now, at least, that's all that really matters – that he has the chance to take care of her, even if it's just for a little while.

Idris continues his gentle ministrations, carefully untangling Rosalind's curls with the comb as she relaxes under his touch. He can feel a sense of calm and care radiating from her, and it gives him a small measure of peace knowing that he can provide this for her.

He glances up briefly, catching sight of Azar leaning against the doorframe with a soft expression on his face. He offers a small smile in return, turning back to his task once more.

For a while, there's nothing but silence in the room, the only sound the scrape of the comb through Rosalind's hair. But gradually, as Idris begins working through some tangles towards the back of her head, Rosalind notices Azar's presence.

Azar chuckles softly, a hint of warmth in his voice. "I'm glad to see you're finding some comfort here," he replies. He steps closer, taking in the sight of Rosalind wrapped in the robe, her curls being patiently combed by Idris.

"How are you feeling?" he asks softly, his concern palpable. "I know it's been a long time since...since everything happened, but if you need anything, just let me know."

Azar chuckles softly, his gaze shifting between Rosalind and Idris. "He's a troublemaker, that one," he says mildly. "But he keeps me on my toes."

He steps even closer, his gaze lingering on Rosalind's face for a moment before he speaks again. "I'm glad to hear you're feeling better," he says gently. "It's...been a long time since I saw you, Rosalind. And there's so much that's happened since then."

Azar nods, his expression earnest. "I've done my best," he replies. "The Eastern Kingdom has flourished under my reign, but...it's been a heavy burden to carry."

He takes a step closer, his eyes searching out hers. "And I've missed you, Rosalind. You were always such a bright light in the court, so full of life and energy. I was...devastated when I heard about the fire, when we all thought you were gone."

Azar nods slowly, his expression thoughtful. "It was...a difficult time," he admits. "For all of us." He falls silent for a moment before continuing. "But seeing you now, knowing that you're alive and safe...it's like...like some small measure of light has been returned to my life."

He steps closer, his eyes holding hers with an intensity that's hard to look away from. "Rosalind," he murmurs softly. "Is there anything...anything you need? Anything I can do for you?"

Azar nods, a small smile flickering over his face. "Of course," he says. "You're always welcome here, Rosalind. Always."

There's a beat of silence between them, the warmth of the room and the soft flicker of the candles the only sounds.

"If there's anything you need, just let me know," he repeats softly. "I'm here for you."

Azar's eyes soften, a hint of sadness in his gaze. "It's been a lot to take in," he admits softly. "But...seeing you again, knowing that you're safe, it's like...like a weight has been lifted, somehow."

He takes a step closer, his hand coming up to gently brush against Rosalind's cheek. "I'm glad you're back, Rosalind. I've missed you."

Azar's hand lingers on Rosalind's cheek for a moment longer, his gaze steady on hers.

"Always," he repeats quietly. "You'll always have a home here with us."

Azar's expression shifts slightly, a hint of surprise in his eyes. "I...yes," he says softly. "Idris and I have become...very close."

He hesitates for a moment before continuing. "It's...not something I ever thought would happen. But he's been...a source of comfort for me, in ways I never imagined."

Azar chuckles softly, a hint of fondness in his expression. "Perhaps a part of me did," he admits. "But...I never thought anything could come of it. We're both...men, after all, and there's a certain way of things in the court."

He steps closer, his hand still resting on Rosalind's cheek. "But...Idris has always been different. Unpredictable. And I've always been drawn to that about him."

Azar's expression softens with sympathy as Rosalind speaks, a hint of understanding in his eyes. "I didn't know," he says gently. "I was always so focused on trying to do my duties as prince, to make my father proud...I wasn't always as aware of what was going on around me."

He takes a step closer, his gaze unwavering. "But I'm glad you're okay, Rosalind. And I'm glad that...that we can talk about things now. I understand if things are...awkward, between us. But I hope we can put the past behind us, and move forward together."

Azar's smile is warm and genuine as he listens to Rosalind. "Thank you," he replies softly. "It...it means a lot to know that you're happy for me, Rosalind. I wish I could've been there for you, all those years ago. But I'm here now, and I won't let anything happen to you again."

He steps close enough that their noses are almost touching. "You're safe with us, Rosalind. Always."

There's a charged silence between them for a moment, the air thick with unspoken feelings and memories.

But gradually,the moment passes, Azar pulling back slightly and breaking the spell.

"Thank you for being here, Rosalind," he says softly, his gaze unwavering. "I'll...let you rest now. But please know that...if you need anything, anything at all, I'm here for you."

With that, he offers a soft smile before turning on his heel and leaving the room.

Idris's lips curve into a small smile as he falls in step beside Azar. "It wasn't a bickering, my dear love," he says mildly. "It was a bit more than that."

He glances over at Azar and notes the hardening in his expression. "Of course I knew, Azar," he admits softly. "I may be many things, but I'm not blind. I could see...the way you both looked at each other, back then."

There's a beat of silence before he continues. "But...you were never mine to claim, Azar. Not then, and not now. All I ever asked was for your trust, and for your heart, if you were willing to give it to me."

Azar stops in his tracks, a look of surprise on his face at Idris's question. He opens his mouth to reply before hesitating, the words catching in his throat for a moment.

Finally, he speaks, his voice soft and unassuming. "Rosalind...was someone special to me, once. But I've...moved on, since then." He meets Idris's gaze, his expression earnest. "I love you, Idris. You know that. And even if Rosalind were...something more than a friend to me, it...doesn't change how I feel about you."

Azar's expression fades into a thoughtful look at Idris's question, his gaze shifting away for a moment before returning to fix on Idris.

"There's no one else like you, Idris," he says firmly. "No one who has the same place in my heart that you do." He takes a deep breath before continuing. "But...Rosalind was...someone I cared for deeply, once. Someone I thought I might...spend my life with."

He meets Idris's gaze, his expression earnest. "But things change, Idris. People change. And now...now, you're the one I love. The one I want to spend my life with."

Azar's lips curve into a small smile at Idris's words, the sadness in his expression easing somewhat. "Perhaps," he says softly. "But...that was a long time ago. And even if...even if there were feelings there once, they've been covered by time and...and all that's happened."

He meets Idris's gaze, his expression earnest. "All that matters now is us, Idris. You and me. Together."