DrabbleWriMo 18: Still

Once, in the old, idle, vicious days, she had longed for Gaston de Trélan to find a purpose in life. Now that he had come back to her a soldier and a hero, she had begun at last to realise the price that fulfilment might cost.

She had not understood before tonight just how badly the fight was going; how close to danger they stood. Only she must lie still, must not toss and turn, for he must ride tomorrow and was in need of sleep.

His breathing at her side was calm and steady. Valentine awaited the coming dawn.