Author's Note: Set in the future. Because hey, even as messed up in the head as I am, I'm still not messed up enough to ship a six year old with a twelve year old. As is, I'm more of a Gunther/Jane shipper anyway. But every series needs its femslash. Thus the birth of this failing grade angst fic.
And the title is from my favorite song by Antimatter :'3
"You requested me, milady?"
Upon hearing that voice, the queen's lips curled in the slightest hint of a smile. She turned around slowly, the simple movement full of all the grace and poise she had learned as the sole ruler of her kingdom. Such elegance had not been a quality she possessed during her last encounter with the owner of the voice and she saw the harlequin green eyes glint with mild disbelief. The queen was sure that if not for her newly practiced means of this royal behavior, her own taupe gaze would have flashed with similar emotion.
"That I did. How are you, Jane?" The older female Queen Lavinia had practically worshiped back when she was a young princess had changed much since their last meeting, ten long years ago. Scars crisscrossed the exposed parts of her pale apricot skin, which was all the more saddening considering it was only Jane's face and hands exposed. The rest of her was clad in the knight's amor that suited the copper topped woman better than any dress ever could have.
"I am well, Your Highness," answered Jane. But Lavinia could see through that easily. Reading people was another skill she'd come to possess as queen, but with that aside, this was Jane. It didn't matter that she'd had no contact with her friend for the past ten years, Jane was the fiery, headstrong girl she'd grown up with as a child and the worthy lady knight who'd defended her kingdom fiercely as an adult. "You're battle weary," the queen murmured, taking a few fluid steps toward the older woman. The knight was visibly worn, a dull look glazing the eyes which had always sparked with adventure in their youth. Those eyes had yet to face true battle, and these more experienced ones went to war at sixteen and stood before her now at twenty-six with all the horrors of carnage and death committed to memory.
"I…I am,"Jane breathed, her shoulders slumping. "All of Kippernium is. Yourself especially, Your Majesty, I know. I am deeply sorry about your parents and your brother. I'm sorry I wasn't there to defend them. I always promised I'd protect you." Grief and sorrow were raw in the dulled green pools, and Lavinia could only shake her head.
The queen swallowed her anguish the best she could and offered Jane a smile. An odd expression one would think from a distance, but up close you could see all the sweet misery that could never be spoken in her highness's pearly whites. "Don't say such things, you were on the front lines. And rightfully placed. If it weren't for you and Dragon, this castle would be collapsed and everyone inside buried beneath the rubble."
Jane returned the sad smile with one of her own, the faintest gleam of tired pride dissolving some of the dullness in her eyes. "I'm honored by your praise, my queen."
"It is deserved…Jane, what I've heard about Sir Theodore…It is true?" Lavinia hated asking when her beloved knight had just started to feel a sensation aside from loss, but she simply had to know.
Immediately the pride left her gaze and a pained look shadowed Jane's face. She nodded. "Yes, it's true. He is dead. Gunther as well."
Lavinia had heard rumors of Sir Theodore's passing, but the latter was news to her. "Gunther as well…" she repeated slowly with a touch of disbelief. True, the young queen always held a distaste for his lineage, but the man himself had been a loyal knight. She felt a twinge of guilt she hadn't know of his death.
"Unfortunately," Jane sighed. "Don't feel bad Your Highness, I wasn't aware until yesterday. Sir Ivon informed me."
"I see." Lavinia nodded solemnly. "He will be missed."
The lady knight shook her head. "I can still hardly wrap my mind around it. It will be strange not to be competing with him. Even in this horrible war we were competing with each other. Who cut down more enemies, who was assigned higher placements, who could withstand the night watch longer. It helped get us through it all, and now…" She trailed off and simply shook her head. Further explanation was not necessary.
Lavinia stepped forward and gently rested a hand on Jane's scarred cheek. Jane exhaled a low sigh and inclined her head into the queen's comforting touch. Lavinia tenderly stroked over the scars with her thumb and gazed into Jane's weary harlequin pools. "Relax now," she murmured softly. Wordlessly the lady knight seemed to obey what wasn't really a command, her eyes sliding closed.
The queen lifted her other hand and gently ran it through Jane's wavy copper mane. She was careful not to agitate the tangles or clumps of dirt and dried blood. "Would you like a bath, Jane?" she asked as she continued her caresses.
Green eyes opened a crack. "Milady, I do not even recall the last time I bathed."
The queen trailed her hands down and closed her fingers around the knight's rougher, calloused ones. She gently tugged Jane to her own personal washroom, the bathtub already filled to the rim with water. "It was piping hot when I first sent for you," she explained softly, "So I'm sure it's still warm enough to your liking now."
"Your Highness…" Jane stared, incredulous. It was unheard of that she should bathe in the queen's own bathtub. Let alone be requested for this luxury. "Please, Jane," the brunette faced her fully with an unreadable smile on her lips. "Call me Lavinia. Even as children, you addressed me solely as "Princess." Such is the norm, I know, but please just call me Lavinia. I may be your superior, but I am your friend. I want you to address me as your friend."
"Though I have always spoken to you with respect, Your Majesty, it has never been without endearment," said Jane.
Endearment. Lavinia drank in the word like a rich, splendid wine. She'd always known she was dear to Jane, but to hear it was salve on her wounded heart. To hear it was to keep at bay the part of her that longed for Jane above all others. "And knowing that, I still ask that you call me Lavinia. Do you need help removing your armor?"
"No, Lavinia." Watching her name roll from the pale amaranth lips was all Lavinia could ask for.
"Very well. I will go fetch you some soap," Lavinia graced the knight with a satisfied nod and slipped out of the room. She took swift, small steps down the hall until she'd reached a maid. She requested a bar of soap and a small cup of boiled soap to be brought to her room and then returned to said chamber. The queen had arrived just in time to hear the clang as the last of Jane's metal armor was dropped to the floor.
Quietly, Lavinia padded up to the threshold that separated her from the knight and simply gazed at her. Jane's back was to her, her matted copper tresses only just long enough to brush over her shoulders. Her naturally smooth and creamy skin was marred with the reminders of conflict, and the queen couldn't help but be saddened at the sight of them. Puckered coral flesh zigzagged around corners of clean skin and twisted under the fresher scars. Livid vermillion differentiated those from the older scars. Dulling brown bruises contrasted with the purple welts, and the two seemed to pirouette across her flesh in a blurred danse macabre.
The thought that Jane had been in pain-and that she was all too likely in pain now-hurt Lavinia's heart. Her heart had hurt so much as of late. In all truth, the queen wasn't sure how much more hurt it could take before she gave way and crumbled beneath it.
Her taupe pools followed the lady knight as she climbed over the rim of the tub and slid into the water. There was a gentle swash and breathy sigh, and Lavinia turned away from what she could no longer observe. It was then that the maid returned with the royal's requested soap, and Lavinia felt a prick of gratitude to the universe that her servant had not arrived earlier.
Lavinia murmured her thanks and strode into the washroom, hands planted firmly on either side of the wooden box that contained the soaps. "I've brought the soap, Jane."
The copper haired knight leaned her head back and shifted her gaze to Lavinia, thankfulness glinting in the harlequin orbs. "I am…So grateful." She exhaled softly and a little splash followed as slipped her arm out of the water. She held her hand up, palm flat and expectant. The queen placed the bar of soap in her hand, but set the cup beside the tub. "May I join you?"
Jane tilted her head, a brow lifting.
"In the bath," Lavinia specified, though she knew she didn't need to. Jane wasn't questioning what she asked, Jane thought what she asked was questionably queer. For all of the queen's training in poise and collection she could not stop the heat of embarrassment from coloring her cheeks.
"Indeed," answered the knight with unveiled bemusement. She scooted back to make more room in the bathtub, but it was hardly necessary. The queen's tub was generous.
Lavina removed her silky garnet gown and discarded her corset, exhaling deeply. She shook her hair out and stepped into the tub, lowering herself with a grace she vainly wished Jane found alluring.
She settled herself comfortably, eyes falling onto the front of Jane she hadn't been able to study before. Her knight was toned and lithe, but muscular. Her muscles were firm and wiry, and Lavinia suspected after swinging a sword for so long that Jane's punch could match any man's. But though her strength may be masculine, there was at least one part of Jane that was all too feminine. Her chest.
Jane's ample breasts were surprisingly larger than Lavinia's own lavish endowments. The queen was sorrowful to see however, that even those assets had not escaped scarring.
"Lavina…"Jane wasn't quite flustered, but she seemed a bit uncomfortable.
"I didn't mean to stare, Jane. I apologize. You've been so hurt…"
The copper haired woman shook her head. "I could have fared much worse. These scars show what I've been through. How I've fought my hardest to protect this kingdom. I am proud to shed blood for Kippernium's sake."
"And I am proud to have a knight like you. Proud, and lucky."
Jane breathed a chuckle. "You flatter me, Lavinia."
"Let me wash your hair," the queen murmured with dulcet taupe pools resting upon the tangled mess of hair. "I have more mobility to lather it into the hard to reach places."
"Ah…Thank you." Jane dipped her head and turned around. Lavinia retrieved the cup of soap she'd had boiled. She rose up on her knees behind the redheaded woman and poured the liquified cleanser over her hair. The scent of spices and herbs wafted up to Lavinia's nose and Jane exhaled a contented sigh. "That's the nicest aroma I've smelled in awhile."
The queen smiled softly and dipped her hands in the water. She then cupped it in her fingers, bringing it up to pour over Jane's hair. She did this a second, third, and fourth time before she started to lather it in. She scrubbed into the dirtied locks with a gentle, practiced touch. Soap bubbled between her digits and she could practically see the grime and blood coming out. Good. It seemed there were only small favors she could do for the knight, but she would do what she could for the woman she'd looked up to since she was a small child.
"That feels nice," Jane murmured.
"I'm glad." The brunette woman continued rubbing the suds into Jane's scalp. "The war has ended, but Kippernium has suffered heavy loss. Among knights and my own family, much of our land has been destroyed and our townspeople have been lost in the crossfire. I…Nothing will ever, ever replace what we've lost. But I've found a way to remedy our future."
"I'm not surprised. You're a wonderful leader, my que- Lavinia. How is that?"
Now Lavinia took the empty cup that once held the shampoo and dunked it under the water, her lips pursed. "I am getting married. The prince of a land who remained benign in the war has agreed to wed me. His kingdom is rich and wholesome, and we will merge. Kippernium will no longer be addressed as so, but it will still be here. It will be repaired."
"Really? That's wonderful. What is his name?"
The queen bit her lip and poured the cup over Jane's hair, rinsing away the foamy suds. It was not wonderful. Not at all. To hear Jane say such sent a dagger into Lavinia's already-broken heart. This prince she was marrying could have married her much earlier, perhaps even helped in the raging war. But he had not. He had waited it out, remained neutral to see which kingdom would come out victorious and then dive in for whatever bride was available to him. That perturbed her. It showed her that this man, this man who would be her husband within the week, had no heart. He didn't care about her suffering kingdom, he just wanted a wife in a position of power.
And even with that aside…Lavinia was in love. She had fallen head over heels for Jane Turnkey. The childish admiration and crush hadn't dwindled over the years. It'd only grown and grown, blossoming into a deeper, truer affection. It had blossomed into love. Pure love that reverberated and swelled in the bottom of her heart and every fiber of her being. But it was a foolish love and a sinful love. Gods, if only her parents were here to see her now. She, Queen Lavinia Pernilla Kippernook, in love with a lady knight. A queen being in love with a knight was laughable. A queen being in love with a woman was scornful.
"Oh Jane," she muttered as she rinsed the last of the soap out of the cleaner copper tresses. "It is not wonderful." Lavinia shook her head and set the cup back down on the floor beside the tub. She began to comb out the tangles with her fingernails. "His name is Philippe, but I have never seen his face. And though marrying him will be a relief to my kingdom, it will be a treason to my heart. I am in love with someone else."
Jane sucked in a low breath and shook her head. "I'm sorry, Lavinia. I didn't know."
Lavinia continued combing through the dampened locks until the tangles were gone and her curly hair was smoothed once more. "I haven't told anyone before now." The queen sank back onto her bottom, fingers brushing out of Jane's hair. She scooted back until she felt the wood press against her. Jane turned around and faced Lavinia once more, her back pressed to the opposite wall of the bathtub.
"May I ask who you are in love with?" Her voice had lowered to a hushed whisper, almost as if they were children again and excitedly sharing secrets. Back when Lavinia wore faux dragon wings on her back and Jane still spat innocent insults like 'bog-weevil.'
The queen's lips twitched upward. "You may ask, if you promise not to think less of me no matter what answer I give."
Jane frowned, looking more bothered than perplexed, but still very much both. "There is nothing you could ever say to me that would make me think less of you. You are my queen. Until I breathe the last breath in my body, I will serve you."
Jane was so dedicated. Strong, admirable, true to her word. Her passion had never died with age. It only grew stronger and matured. How easy it had been to fall in love with her. Lavinia knew she must not have been the only one. Jane was just too lovable not to have others pining after her. Her late brother, Cuthbert had adored her in his later years. And Lavinia strongly suspected that Jester (never ever had she learned his true name. Perhaps he never even had one) had loved Jane as well. After he'd succumbed to some illness some five years back, Lavinia had even heard rumors he'd actually died of a broken heart. That made three people so far. How many others had fallen for Jane? She wondered. Was Lavinia the only woman to fall into that category? Likely so. It was simply not natural for one woman to love another in that way.
"I love you, Jane." She merely smiled at the older woman, the truth easing a trifle of the pain in her heart as it passed her lips. "I know it's wrong, I know it's not requited. I know my thoughts should be examined, I know I'm an embarrassment to my late family. But I love you."
Jane stared at her for a long moment, not moving or saying a thing. She seemed surprised, indeed, but not as positively bewildered or disgusted as Lavinia would have thought. "Do not say that you're wrong, or that you should be examined, or that you are an embarrassment. None of that is true. I am a woman, Lavinia. I am a woman, but I am a knight. I am the only female knight I know and I have been told I need to be examined, I have been told that I am an embarrassment. I have been told that it's wrong for a girl to wield a sword and that instead, I should be cooking for my husband and brandishing a needlework. No one understands how I feel. Even after all these years…Proving myself the way I have has earned my respect, but they still don't understand. I don't expect them to, but I know I am not wrong. I know I am not crazy. I know I am far from an embarrassment."
Lavinia shook her head and felt the beginnings of tears prick the corners of her eyes. "That's not the same thing, Jane. You are a noble warrior. I am a lovesick queen."
Jane reached across the small distance that separated them and grabbed Lavinia's shoulders. "You are a good leader. You're sacrificing what you feel for your people. You have stood strong and held control when you are the last of your family. You are misunderstood and that is all. I don't want to hear you insult yourself, ever again. You asked me not to think less of you, so do not speak less of yourself. I may not love you the way you love me, but I do love you."
"Could you, Jane?" Lavinia asked, trying as hard as she could to keep the utter despair and need out of her voice. "Just for tonight, could you love me as I love you?" Her family was gone. Half of her subjects were gone. More than half her land was devastated. And she was soon to marry a man she had never even seen. Lavinia's entire world had fallen apart, crashed down around her and left happiness in shambles. She fiercely, selfishly hoped that Jane would just grant her one night.
"No. I apologize, but for everything you've done, I cannot give you tonight. There is more work to be done in the field, and my mother needs me home as soon as I can manage." The redhead was genuinely apologetic and that helped to ease some of the guilt Lavinia felt for making that kind of request in the first place.
"Very well." The queen graced her knight with another unreadable smile and stood, stepping over the rim of the tub and onto the floor.
A gentle splash from behind Lavinia urged her to turn. She did, eyes lifting up to me the gaze of the older woman. "I cannot give you tonight," she whispered, her hands moving to cup Lavinia's face. They were pruned and warm, calloused but somehow still soft. The queen could feel her cheeks heating again. But it was a pleasant sensation. She welcomed it with open arms. "But I can give you this." Jane leaned in, her eyelids fluttering closed as her lips met Lavinia's.
They were firm and chapped against her unsuspecting mouth, but the taste was intoxicating. Spice. Sacrifice. Strength. Gin. Determination. Blood. Bread crusts. And Jane. Just a flavor of pure Jane. Lavinia savored it all. Pleasure rippled from her mouth all the way down to her feet. She embraced her tightly, lips moving against Jane's and parting to receive more.
Lavinia was positively drunk on the taste of her knight when she finally broke away. She even staggered slightly as if a drunkard, only to be caught by Jane. Jane was always there to catch her. "I'll help you with your corset," she murmured.
"Thank you, Jane."
They dressed in silence after that, no need for any more words to be passed. Lavinia escorted Jane to the entrance of the castle in silence, the only sound the delicate footfalls of the queen and the louder metal scuffling of the knight. They parted in silence as well, traded tiny sad smiles and chaste kisses on the cheek. Lavinia watched as Jane mounted her horse (an effortless action, indeed. Lavinia was not the only one who'd become skilled in her position since their premature farewells ten years prior) and continued watching her until her shape got too small to see.
The queen felt something wet roll down her cheek and realized she had shed a single tear. She brushed it away with the slender bare finger, the one that would have a ring on it all too soon, and went back inside.