I Love You, Tis Why I Do (Helle/Cyrus)

Cyrus had not had dreams in several years, now. They had disappeared with his humanity, swallowed up just as so many other things had been when he had taken on his divinity. And yet, he had awoken this morning from a dream he could only have ever called pleasant. A quiet life in the sands he had once called home, peaceful and free of evils. He spoke with Shirohime, with Hayden, all about such simple things, and he watched his beloved's golden hair dance in the evening breeze as though it were the most beautiful thing in the world.

He hated such dreams. Such visions of a world that would never be. It soured Cyrus' demeanor, just the faintest bit, as he awoke, and while he might normally have been more than a touch surprised at Helle's appearance overnight, he had of course sensed her energy, even if unconsciously. Her sleeping form, despite his displeasure at his dreams, could only ever have made Cyrus smile faintly. He knew that he had hurt her--it was not even a question. But he did love her, so very dearly. He would do anything to make the world he had promised her.

Moving was still so very difficult, so painful. He knew, even so, that it was little compared to Shirohime's suffering, and he allowed himself no complaint. He merely moved enough that he could reach out to Helle, and take her hand in his. He could ask for nothing more than such a pleasant moment as this.

"You must forgive me, Helle. I do not aim to embarrass you, but in times such as these I cannot help but wish to hold you however I may."

Cyrus did not particularly mind the thought of having embarrassed her. Not because he wished to make her feel foolish, of course, though the true reason was every bit as foolish. He simply thought her rather charming when she blushed. Perhaps that was poor of him, morally speaking, but he could not bring himself to worry about such things.

"As you say, my love."

Despite his usual refusal to rely on others, Cyrus knew fully well that he had little place to complain about it in this moment. Even disregarding the breathtaking sight of the woman before him, and the knowledge that this moment was one that no other man would ever be so fortunate as to experience, there was the more pressing matter that he likely could not have fed himself if he wished to do so. So, he simply did as Helle wished, and ate from her hand. He did not mind it.

"I would not think to argue with you on this matter, Helle. You are correct, that the Reich demands me at my best. Even if I can no longer lead them into the fray as I have, I must still be ready to lead them in my decisions, and to be the leader they may depend on. That much is owed to them."

Despite his confident nature, there was a faint degree of dejection as he spoke on this topic. He knew that he no longer carried within him everything that he had used to lead the Vandenreich, that he could no longer serve as the hand of his people for their sake on the Earth. Even if he knew that Mazda had the same aims as himself in the grand scale, he could not feasibly predict the divine's actions. He knew very little, beyond that Mazda would likely consider himself beholden to none.

"You are a blessing, my dear. I think there are very few who have ever lived who have known such love as this."

As he leaned into Helle, Cyrus could feel his body cry out at the efforts, such a small exertion still tremendously difficult after all that he had undergone. However, he knew at much the same time that this pain was temporary. That he would recover, that he would still fulfill the oaths he had made. This was nothing more than a brief pause in his efforts.

"I have, this much is true. My faith in every man and woman I have brought to the City of Lights is unwavering, even now, and I have no doubts that they will do well in my absence. But you must forgive me for worrying, even so. It is only natural, I suppose."

Of course, the longer Cyrus leaned into Helle, and the more he spoke, the more it struck him how truly different things were now. He was not divine, he did not carry within him that eldritch core. And, as such, he did not suffer at the mere idea that he might feel. He did not experience agony as he thought of Helle's loveliness, did not need to temper his pride in the Vandenreich. He could simply...feel.

"I love you, my dear."

Her tears bring a good deal of pain to Cyrus' chest, but he supposes that this pain is not, in itself, a terrible thing. It is not the searing agony of his very existence being denied, of his soul being consumed by a higher power. It is simply the displeasure at seeing his beloved cry. Though it certainly caused him no small amount of pain, Cyrus reached up to wipe her tears away, offering her a small smile as he did so.

"So long as you are with me, Helle, I have no reason to worry. I am only sorry that I do not have the strength at present to show you the full scope of my affection, but I do hope that my words, if nothing else, might suffice."

Of course, he knew that they surely would not. How could any words ever possibly convey to Helle what it was that Cyrus felt for her? The depths of gratitude for having stayed at his side, the simple desire to keep her by his side. Such things could not be conveyed by mere words.