I guess I should begin with a note to clear some things up before I surprise!bother someone with my headcanon. Feel free to skip this if you prefer to just read! (I would put this all at the end, but some minor explanation might be in order...?)

On the characters and timeline: I don't believe Raquesis ever really got over her brother's death – she truly loved him. Incest is best and all that. I also believe that when she found out about his demise, she gradually started to change, unable to really develop a bond with anyone out of a subconscious belief that anybody she allowed herself to love would be taken away from her. This was further cemented by the events in Belhalla, when Beowolf, whom she had started to have real feelings for throughout a weird, splotchy, on-and-off relationship, died. Yay, trust issues!

Osawa Mitsuki's manga is kind of hit-and-miss on a lot of things with me, but I do like the idea of Quan assigning Finn as Raquesis's guard. And also Finn's resulting big dumb crush on her. However, I do not think that she ever gave him a second thought until after the fall of Leonster – and even then, they just became really close friends, working together out of mutual interest. Up until she realized what a good guy he really was (probably after observing him taking care of Leif on the run and during the months thereafter), she enjoyed teasing him relentlessly and, very very rarely, used him for... extracurricular activities.

On this particular writing: Again, I didn't have anyone proofread this. (Because I'm a big dumb who can't into socially acceptable requests.) I am aware that the pacing is a bit off, and it gets a bit wordy at times, but I am, overall, satisfied with it. It wasn't supposed to be as long as it turned out; I was just trying to capture a particular moment in this romance-that-really-isn't. I tried to step away from constant dialogue, which is my comfort zone. I also decided to write this more from Finn's point of view instead of an omniscient take on things. As such, it probably isn't very good, but hey. I wrote a thing! I am very open to any concrit you have to offer, as it will help me better myself, and then I can write things that more people will like, and everyone will be happy in the end.

On nonsense: LOCALIZED NAMES. Things are so much easier now. Sometimes unfortunate, but easier. I apologize if I slipped at any point. Please point out mistakes.

- For some reason, the line break thing isn't working. Which is awesome. I'll fix this later.

Finn's voice just wouldn't come. His mouth opened and closed, but try as he might, he was completely speechless. Maybe it was because Raquesis was so close, and he could see just how blue her eyes were. Maybe it was because her cheeks were flushed pink, and she looked more beautiful than ever that way. Maybe it was because he had been outside for hours, and she was all but radiating the heat he so desperately craved. Or maybe the words that had just come from her mouth had punched him somewhere between his heart and his stomach, and he didn't know what to think.

"Well?" she asked again. She balled her fists a little tighter, pulling at the fabric of his cloak.

He still couldn't form a response. Seeing her here in Leonster was enough of a surprise for one day. After hearing about the massacres, first in Yied and later in Belhalla, he'd forced his weaker feelings to some deep corner of his soul, vowing to give up everything he'd ever felt for this woman so that he could focus on the duties Quan had assigned him before his death. At first, pretending he felt nothing had been difficult, but he had gotten used to it. Until now, he'd been able to maintain some semblance of happiness – a composed exterior for little Leif to depend on as they walked through the castle grounds during the day, with a sharp mind and good listening ear for Glade's concerns at their favorite tavern each night.

Raquesis had been dead until minutes ago. Finn simply did not know whether to laugh, cry, greet her, or push her away. He wanted to do all those things and more, to let her know how much he had been suffering here, but that had never been his duty. He was a knight that had been assigned to protect her, and she had been too busy with her own welfare and desires to give his care a second thought. That was how it was supposed to be. The logical side of him had always wanted it to stay that way, while his emotional side had threatened to kill him with heartbreak as he had stood vigil at her door every night knowing full well that she had some mercenary or another wrapped up beside her beneath those silken bedsheets.

Even now, he knew she had feelings for no one but that late brother of hers. Even now, when she was tugging at his cloak and whispering such madness; even here, in a corridor where anyone could hear. "I know how men like you are," she had said without so much as a greeting. "You see me here, and yet all you can think about is how much you want to get me into your bed. Now's your chance, o faithful knight. Do what you will with me."

Finn had every intention of avoiding the subject at hand. Finally, he found his voice. "M-my lady, it is good to see you, but not so good that we should rush anything." He spoke in an apologetic tone, not nearly as even or cool as he had hoped. "You have clearly been in your cups tonight. Shall I escort you to... wherever it is that you are staying?" He placed a hand over one of hers and felt the warmth her fingers exuded. A glance down told him of her hardships, a struggle written across her skin in lines that were too deep for one yet her age. She hadn't been broken when Eldigan had been executed, and Finn had assumed, being a stupid boy, that nothing would ever wear down her strength. But, he had been wrong, and he could see the evidence written clearly across her features.

"I happen to be staying here, under your king's protection." Raquesis spat the last word out with an acidity he'd come to expect when she was feeling particularly weak. "Surely, you can understand why."

He nodded. It was a weak response, but in his current state, a triumph all the same. He was almost afraid to say the wrong thing, seeing her like this – afraid of breaking her even more, afraid of spreading those tiny fractures in her skin. She was only four years his senior, yet he felt as if she had lived much more than he had in the time since they'd last met. She was a mother whose son was halfway across the continent, a sister who mourned for her brother, a regent who could not protect her people, and a warrior who had been bested on the field of battle. A decade of maturity had been forced upon her in such a short amount of time. No longer was she the radiant princess who had captured hearts in courts across the land, but still she held a kind of resolute strength that Finn couldn't help but admire.

He wanted to tell her how much he adored everything about her. He wanted to tell her that she was the strongest, most beautiful woman he'd ever met. But he couldn't, knowing how icy her heart had grown. Though he loved her all the same, when he thought of her potential reaction to something as feeble as feelings after all she had been through, he was left with a sense of dread.

But what if...? Could he ever really be what she needed? What she wanted? And not like this, when she was slurring, red-faced, and confused. Could he be what she wanted all the time?

Finding it impossible to fault her on her manners, as if he ever had, he caressed her fist with his thumb. "I may not fully understand in the way you need me to, but rest assured, my lady, I am happy to see you here. If you need anything, do not hesitate to ask."

"I need you to get your freezing fingers off of me." If she appreciated his concern, she did not show it. He understood that well enough; she had never accepted compassion with any amount of grace, instead scoffing at the pity she didn't need. She hadn't changed in that regard, and that made him want to smile. Resignedly, he dropped his hand to his side once more, having nothing better to do with it.

Still, with making a trip in her state of maximum inebriation, he didn't trust her – or some of his brothers-at-arms, as it were, given her more recent bouts of promiscuity. With that thought, it occurred to him that he didn't like the idea of anyone sharing her bed, even now. He was still a stupid boy with no knowledge of a woman's motivations, a boy who could succumb easily to jealousy while knowing full well that not a soul in all of Leonster could take advantage of such a woman. Rather, he almost pitied any man who would make that mistaken attempt. A tongue-lashing was enough; he'd earned those plenty of times during his travels at her side. The real danger laid in inviting a physical altercation with the lioness. He had once seen how nimble she could be during a fight on foot, and didn't ever want to have a tumble with her quite like that. She was more than strong enough to take care of herself, but his foolish desires bade him protect her yet. "Has a room been prepared for you?"

"If I wanted to be in my quarters, I would be there," came her brusque reply.

Raquesis frowned, her eyes narrowed in annoyance. He always rubbed her the wrong way, did he not? But he liked that, somehow. He was so used to getting praise that such honest resentment made him feel uncomfortable, different – and it was a welcome change from the feel of stagnant competency. When Prince Quan had been his tutor of sorts, or even when he had performed badly in front of a senior knight, he had never been scolded so harshly; then again, Quan's words had always been gentle, even his criticisms, so Finn wasn't sure if that counted toward his repository of boredoms or not. Either way, this princess made his heart race no matter how badly he wanted to deny it. His feelings were inexorable, and the longer he stood here, staring down into those deep eyes of hers, the harder it was becoming to steel his resolve.

He was desperate. He needed a way out of this situation, but with his words failing and Raquesis's proximity and her warmth, he was beginning to doubt the night would end well. Either he was going to do something stupid, or they would wind up in a verbal altercation. Neither sounded appealing. "Where would you like to go, then?" he asked.

She pulled, then, her grip on his cloak still strong. Finn, startled by the sudden movement, struggled to remain afoot as his shoulders were jerked downward. He didn't have any time to recover before her lips were against his.

His mind went completely, blissfully blank. Even that side of him that had said no, it's wrong, you can't, had finally shut up. Time slowed tenfold as soon as her arms were around his neck, pulling him down, down even farther. He was so aware of everything, but there was nothing he could do about it, nothing to think about it. Her lips were chapped, and her breath stank of brandy, but the moment she forced her tongue into his mouth he concluded that it wasn't that bad. Her breasts, full and soft, were pressed firmly against his chest as she worked her magic, and he couldn't ignore that either. He wanted to touch her then, but his palms were flush with the coarse stone wall behind him, his only means of keeping balance. Weight displacement, his mind rang out. Sometimes, he hated his own perspicaciousness.

After a moment that hadn't lasted nearly long enough, Raquesis relaxed her arms and backed away slightly. Finn didn't move, terrified. Was she going to mock his knightly vows? Then he would have to explain that the Knights of Leonster were allowed to marry after pledging themselves to the royal family, because they and their fathers before them had held the code of chivalry in highest regard, and to shun that code was to shun the very essence of knighthood, but that also required petitioning the church and-

"You've never had a woman, have you?"

He wasn't sure if he'd gained any color up to that point, but he was suddenly painfully aware of how much the heat beneath his skin felt like so many needles piercing through what remained of the cold from his walk through town. "No, my lady. And I prefer it stay that way."

There was something in her eyes that was making him even more uncomfortable. "That's... odd."

He knew he shouldn't ask, but the words burst out of his mouth before he could stop them. "How so?"

"You're like a schoolgirl," she whispered. She was still close. Finn was almost sure the alcohol on her breath was enough to cloud his own mind. "Any real man would fight and maim and kill for the woman he wants. But you... you're no man." She released him completely, so quickly that he fell back against the wall. Those warm hands of hers weren't done, though. With one finger, she traced the contours of his body through his clothing, slowly working her way down from his shoulder as she spoke. "You sit back and pine for that which will never be yours, spiting everyone who can have that happiness. But when it's right in front of you, even after wanting it so long... you push me away, content to live life as a lonely, bitter knight." Her finger kept to the side as it made its way past his belt. His throat was sore, taut around a lump that wasn't really there, as intensely uncomfortable as the painful stabbing sensation across his face.

Despite his reeling mind, he had a moment of surprising clarity. Her frustrations weren't aimed at him. She was speaking of Eldigan, the only man she had ever truly loved. Even knowing this, her words were like spears thrust through his heart. If she felt any remorse for the awful things she was saying, she showed no sign of it. "No, you're certainly no man. You're a maiden, so displaced from reality with your silly ideals that you will never find happiness." Her finger stopped halfway down his thigh, curling under the thick leather of his boot. His breath hitched, his fists clenched tightly at his sides, as she traced the hem in a medial direction. "You are so weak, it's pathetic. And yet you sat upon your horse amid thousands of dying men, hoping that someday I would notice you."

The sensation at the back of his eyes was a warning. This had gone too far. "P-please stop," he managed to choke out. He closed his eyes tightly, partly because he was unable to bear her scornful gaze any longer, and partly to will away his tears before she could say something about them as well. "I know my place in life, and I would appreciate it greatly if you would let me stay there." He wanted to say more, to tell her about his duty, about the honor Prince Quan had bestowed upon him, about how much he regretted being unable to fight alongside that man during his last hour, but he knew she would hear none of it. He had always known that, so why did it only hurt now?

"Open your eyes." Her voice seemed louder and clearer than it had when he had held her in his gaze.

"I shall not."

"Most men would be more concerned about defying my orders so bluntly, sir."

"I will deal with the consequences later."

Much to his surprise, she laughed. It wasn't the fake giggle she did for her male friends, nor was it the feigned amusement she offered in presence of other noble ladies. This was a genuine sound Finn had only heard a scarce few times, back before Eldigan's head had been taken off. Apparently, his pain amused her. That was their twisted relationship – not acquaintances or friends or anything closer, just a knight and the lady his lord had once ordered him to protect, each taking pleasure from his misery and discomfort. A perfect match, he thought.

Perhaps he had enjoyed her sharp retorts at first, truly; but this was just too much for him.

Raquesis's voice was low, then, commanding and sultry. "You need to let go," she whispered. He realized that she was speaking from far too close a moment too late. She slipped the rest of her hand down into his boot, her fingers curved around his thigh her breath tickling his ear. He let out a noise, some short groan that was a mixture of surprise and abhorrence; it was a mistake, for she must have taken it as some sort of acceptance on his part. Her tongue was on his neck, and then her lips were too, and then she was sucking at his skin, a goddess skilled in her art of seduction.

Finn had never felt something so incredible. She made him weak in the knees; he was so afraid of crumpling to the ground in this bizarre trap of anguish and pleasure, but he didn't want her to stop.

He didn't want her to stop.

He hadn't known what he wanted, arguing with himself these last few years, but with her onslaught against his senses, it had become clear. He wanted her. He needed her, needed her to keep touching, to keep kissing, to make reality fade away.

Shakily, he raised an arm. He weaved his fingers into her hair and tilted his head to the side, pulling her closer to his exposed neck, finally smelling her perfume over the pungent scent of brandy. Her kisses were bruising, wet, exciting. He hadn't felt excited about anything since – well, he couldn't remember when, not when he was focusing so much on every little thing she was doing to him. Even if he had no idea what he was doing, he wanted more. His other hand, still free, found its way onto her back, first near her shoulders just as she had done to his front, slowly moving down, down, until he was holding her body against his. She was softer than she had looked just minutes ago.

She kissed him softly, teasingly, over and over again, her tongue so wet over the tender skin of his neck, only his neck, never his lips. The rest of his resolve melted away with a whisper, though he wasn't sure if he was even saying real words when her hand found its way from his thigh to the place above. Finn thought he might have said her name just then, but he didn't really know anything. He was completely intoxicated, so much that he didn't raise a protest when she dragged him into the room across the corridor. We were right here all along, he realized when he finally opened his eyes. She really hadn't needed an escort. She could have stepped inside if she had wanted, just as she'd said.

Maybe his guilt and determination were gone, but he'd be damned if he made this mistake the wrong way. "Wait." Somehow, he brought himself to stop before his feet could carry him to the point of no return.

She turned to face him, her brow furrowed in annoyance at his hesitation. "What is it, maiden-boy?"

Now or never. He had to say something, anything, but none of the words sounded right in his head. The woman was impatient; he knew she wouldn't stand there for more than a few seconds. There was that nagging feeling, too, telling him that he was going to mess this up and anger her, why had it come back, it wasn't fair, he'd been fine without it. He needed to tell her so desperately, tell her about all the times she'd hurt him without knowing, but on the other hand, he really, really didn't want to upset her. He didn't know how or what, but he needed to say something.

Finn swallowed."I think that... you are the most perfect woman in the world."

He caught the faintest glimpse of a smile before she hid it and tugged at his arm. "Just stop before you embarrass yourself."

That uncomfortable feeling, the weight on his shoulders – it seemed to fade away. He'd said it, and she didn't hate him for it.