She shivers.  There isn't much to her, and she trembles as a leaf in the wind.  Her cloak conceals the movement, though, the rustle of its edges its only sign.  She always shivers when she looks upon me.  Perhaps because she knows there's something more to me, something more than rock, more than cold stone.  Perhaps because she knows there's life to me; perhaps because she can feel the enchantment that keeps me here.  Perhaps because the nights are cold.

She discovered long ago the secret stair—the sorceress' stair—the stair I long ago ascended, carried in the Breath of the sorceress herself, when she crafted me so lovingly with hands as rough as mine, when she gifted unto me that power of her Self, when she left me, all alone, to guard her door, her door, but her no more, when she left me, left me, left me...

But She—She found the stair, and climbed, finding me above.  Small wonder I adore her.  She is a Princess.  Eldest of her siblings, it falls to her to keep the crown, it falls to her to stand as strong as though she had an army at her back, it falls to me to make that true, and comfort her when comfort's due.

She comes to me all times of night, the time at which they cease to look, whene'er she can she takes to flight, to come straight to my hidden nook.

She curls herself into my base, and tells me of her day's events, and ever do I wish to see her face, though I look out with her behind.

She comes to me when she needs escape, they keep her close and under watch, a sorceress loose across the land, a sorceress loose—loose and mad—

A sorceress who abandoned me, who left me to my fate because I couldn't fly, I couldn't break the bonds of stone, and now I'm left to be alone.

Time increases, I feel I saw her but not long ago, yet here she is, standing, look and shiver

Climb the ancient stair, tell me of your dreams, explain to me your life, paint a picture of your mind...

Time increases, I feel I've slept, yet I cannot, the sorceress' grip is fading, her Breath is blowing with the wind, ever away, ever away

I think, perhaps, she knows.

She caressed my wing just yesterday, her touch was more than loneliness, her fingers spoke their sorrow, her hand expressed its love

She knows

She has to know

There is no other way

And yet, I fade

I curse the sorceress' name, she who left me here to fate, she who left me here to love, she who left me here to leave the moment I would wish to stay—

I fade

But even She has felt a stirring, stirring in her chest, her feet, they falter on the step, she comes behind, and then around, eyes so far from strength she shows to all but me

She reaches up, and Breathes.

Breathes into me

And suddenly, my wings unfurl, my arms they curl, about her slender form

And I kiss back

Of course I agree

When she asks me to be her Queen.

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A/N: Originally written August 2017