Tack sat lightly on the edge of the bed, twiddling his bandaged thumbs as golden evening light fell across them from the bedchamber window. His royal robes were all asunder. He had twisted and torn at them in his worry and distress since that morning. Now they were perhaps ruined, but there were a thousand more from whence they'd come; he closed his eyes and tried not to worry about it.

He'd not seen the Princess all day long – not since rising from bed that morning to kiss her lightly on the shoulder and pursue breakfast in the kitchens. After Nanny's bursting in on his idle time with the tile patterns earlier, he'd not been able to find his wife anywhere at all. Now night was on the brink of falling, and he could only lay down on the end of the bed as he waited. He closed his eyes.

The Princess, meanwhile, had spent her day somewhat hiding on the castle parapet. She didn't want to be disturbed. Now, though, it was beginning to get dark, and she solemnly made her way up to the palace once again. She paused before her bedchamber door, willing herself to enter to face disappointment again; from the other end of the hall, Nanny watched her silently, feeling sorrow for the young couple. The Princess stood out in front of her room for a decent while, only staring at the patterns in the wood before her. Finally, she sagged her shoulders and entered the room.

Tack was sleeping on the end of the bed, she saw. Something about his posture seemed to indicate he'd been waiting for something, but hadn't managed to stay awake long enough. She sadly closed the door behind her and stepped behind her silkscreen to dress herself for sleep.

At the sound of the closed door, the cobbler woke. He blinked bemusedly once before snapping to attention and scanning the room. His eyes alighted upon the form of his wife behind her silkscreen, slowly removing her top. He pursed his lips and scooted backwards on the bedspread a tiny amount, only to lay his hand down upon a tack that had fallen from his mouth as he slept. He gave a tiny gasp of pain.

At the sound of his movement, the already high-strung Princess whipped her head around the screen. Tack froze as if caught in an unspeakable act. For a moment, they stared right at one another. The cobbler's eyes were wide and innocent; the Princess's, sad and confused. Tack laid his hand back on the bed slowly, having stowed the wayward tack safely in his robe. The Princess watched his hand as it moved and suddenly was struck simply by how lonely she was. That hand, that arm, she wanted all of him so badly, and it seemed that she never would get him. Her lip trembled slightly and she hid herself back behind the curtain as tears began to fall from her eyes and a small sob escaped her lips.

Tack was up in a flash. He loped over to her quickly and swept behind the curtain, holding his wife to him as tears fell down her face. She cried quietly into his robes as he held her close, feeling her naked skin beneath his hands. When she looked up, he saw she wore no top, but did not linger on this; his concentration was spent on her eyes, her soul, he imagined. Her troubles, whatever they were, would be his as well.

For whatever reason, this only seemed to make the princess more upset.

"Tack," she choked, looking unhappy, but when he leaned closer to show he was listening, she pulled away, her chest more visible in the torchlight. "Don't you feel anything for this?" she asked tearfully. The cobbler looked heartbroken. He touched her lightly on her shoulder.

"No," the Princess said, and sounded almost angry. With a movement, she swept his hand from her shoulder and laid it on her breast instead.

Tack froze. His eyes riveted on his hand and where it lay. Her chest rose and fell with each sobbing breath she took. He didn't move for much, much too long. The Princess wondered whether she had broken him. Then, unexpectedly, he turned and walked out from behind the silkscreen with nary a word.

The Princess was left crying for a moment longer before she dried her eyes enough to step out from behind the screen herself. Tack was curled on the bed with his back to her, not moving at all. Knowing she should be angry, but not heartless enough to express anger at such a pathetic figure, she crawled up onto the bed behind him, wrapping her arms about his waist as he often did for her at night.

The cobbler turned around on his side to face her. He looked ashamed. She wished so much she could do something to ease whatever anxiety he was feeling over this. She closed her eyes for a moment and took a deep breath, swelling her breasts against him. Then she simply held him, tight to her bosom, as in a mother's embrace.

They were silent and warm together, eyes closed, breathing deeply each other's scents. Perhaps, the Princess thought, this is what love can be. Perhaps, in our case, this is what love is. I can love without touching. I can love without feeling.

Perhaps this is simply how it will always be.

Perhaps this is...

But her thoughts came to a pause as she felt a light tickling sensation along her breast. She glanced down and saw, with a swoop in her stomach, Tack, very lightly, very curiously, licking at her teat like a pup. She stared down at him bemusedly; he glanced up and turned bright pink.

As their eyes met, then, she was fairly certain she understood something. She saw a lost boy in her arms, scared to touch, scared to feel, too used to the things he loved being taken from him. She saw a simple cobbler, unassuming and hardly about to take anything he was less than one hundred percent sure she was willing to give. She saw a man, strong and brave and sweet, married far above him to a woman he would only have dreamt of in his childhood.

She saw her husband, kind and gentle, and she loved him.

Whatever he too saw in her eyes at that moment, he finally seemed to understand something of her as well. He was hesitant, but for the very first time, he reached out and touched her of his own volition, and his hand was like a brush of heaven upon her skin.

They moved together that evening as the sun set slowly above them. They exposed themselves to one another and laid side-by-side, enjoying the tactile sensations of their skin. Tack was in a state of wonderment at the beautiful creature beside him; the Princess, a state of utter happiness, that finally they both were finding their common ground in their great bed. As the sun gave its last red flare over the darkening horizon, the Princess found herself astride her beloved; they kissed; and when the light finally disappeared to connect the dark land with the sky, they too let themselves connect.

In the dark of the night, while the moonlight shone upon the golden city, they moved together, slipping right off the bed down to the floor. They hit the tiles softly, bringing with them the bedcovers in knotted mess all around. On the ground they breathed deep their enjoyment in one another, coming to conclusion, exhausted in their efforts; they patterned themselves with the floor, bodies spread to the greatest, most beautiful geometry they could imagine, falling to the impossible curves of the city and palace. It was their home, it was their love. It was a beautiful woman.

Limbs tangled, hair messed, they slept that night as husband and wife, as close as any two people ever could hope.

In the morning, Nanny rose to bring breakfast to the Princess, but she and her husband were missing. The bed was made neatly, the torches dutifully extinguished. The old woman gave pause, but left with a silent slippered tap.

In the late hours of that morning, in the lush green of the palace gardens, two figures could be seen sitting side-by-side on the banks of the duck pond. They touched only in their joined hands, so any passers-by might think they could be brother and sister; but to see their eyes, in the secret glances they spared each other, anyone would know better. Brother and sister, husband and wife, mother and son; all love in this world was theirs, as held in those happy glimpses back and forth between each other's eyes.

The golden city echoed with morning birdsong.

"I love you," said the Princess.

"I love you," said the cobbler.

(Seriously, though, go to YouTube to watch the original movie, and see what might have been.)