just so we're clear, this was meant to feel unfinished. i wanted the ending to be unsatisfying and awkward.
but i guess i could continue it. eh.
i don't own anything.
the unluckiest number
(and a case of seemingly star crossed lovers)
When she turns away and shuts the door behind her, like a scene from one of those dramatic Earth movies he's seen so little of, Ren feels... well, almost relieved.
And he hates it. He hates it hates it hates it -
But there is nothing he can do. They don't work. And Ren does not want to be some kind of alien, futuristic Romeo and Juliet (another cliche tale of romance from Earth). It's too hard to do that, for something that feels so not worth it, even though it really is.
Their positions make everything so difficult.
And Ren hates that, too.
He hates that the queen cannot do anything without fearing the risk of some kind of scandal, her people hating her and getting kicked off the throne, because who she's doing is well... himself.
The Neathian queen and a Gundalian commander. Ironically, as fun and worth it as Shakespeare tries to claim being star crossed lovers is, it just isn't. Ren doesn't feel it.
But, then again, Ren doesn't feel much of anything these days.
Listening to the haughty laughs of the royals and nobles Fabia's advisor invited to the ball bothers Fabia herself. Maybe if she hadn't had to fight directly in a war for her country, and for the neighboring one, now that she thinks about it, she would be the same as them. But the dirt caked under her fingernails and her fiance's corpse six feet under the ground have made her feel a shift in who she is.
Perhaps it's a good thing, that Fabia can hear just how much everyone wants to hide and how really, they are all the same, including her, but for some reason, Fabia doesn't think it is. (And that shifts the queen's mind back to her stained hands and dead fiance, and then she doesn't blame herself for feeling the way she does.)
Ren is sitting at a table directly in front of hers, and she watches him from her seat, her narrow green eyes following him the way an animal follows its prey. There are tons of people talking to him, noblewomen and noblemen, along with some foolish royals, and they are all so interested in what he has to say. A few in particular are impressing him with everything they do, and that, for some reason, burns the queen.
Even with the droll conversation going on at her table, Fabia doesn't move her eyes away from Ren, staring at him, hoping he notices just what she's doing. But she can't fathom why. (Maybe it's because a particular noblewoman is inching closer and closer, halfway into his lap, and the queen's eyes are narrowing even further and why is this happening -)
"Your highness! Why are you so focused on the Gundalian commander?"
Fabia looks at whoever is speaking, hoping she'll remember the woman's name by the time the champagne she's been throwing back kicks in.
"Oh, was I? I'm afraid I've been a bit out of it lately. No need to worry, though."
Fabia smiles and watches as her table buys the lie, her heart pounding in her chest, the sound burning in her ears and she wants to turn back, stare at Ren some more and hope he can feel the burning stare, but she doesn't. Instead, she listens to the conversation. Or, tries to.
"I saw this gorgeous Neathian lord you should dance with, your highness."
Fabia shakes her head, "I don't feel much like dancing." (We don't feel anything. When was the last time you felt something? Tell me, Fabia, because I can't seem to remember.)
The woman continues speaking, and Fabia continues feeling jealous. It's the first emotion she has felt in a while.
Ren seizes any chance he has at getting a mission on Neathia, strictly for the purpose of speaking privately with the queen. When he finally gets his audience, he revels internally, hoping he'll have the gall to say what he wants to.
"I'm sorry, your majesty," he begins, like he rehearsed, "Would it be possible for us to speak privately of these matters?"
He hates being formal with her. They have never had to be so formal with one another in the entire time they've known each other, from when they fought on opposing sides to when his defeat in her hands made him break down in tears, to when they fought side by side, and to the start of whatever affair they had.
Fabia raises a perfectly scultped brow, but dismisses her advisors and servants and whatever other aides a queen ought to have. When the door slams shut behind them, echoing Fabia's march out of the room only months ago, Ren scowls.
"Why were you staring at me?"
Fabia sighs, playing with her blue locks (why is she even in her human disguise? it's her home planet, after all). "I didn't really think you'd notice. You semed to be to into all the attention you were getting."
"You know that we stopped whatever we were doing."
The queen snorts. An undignified sound. "I was there."
"And you know that we stopped it because it just doesn't work."
"I lived through it."
"So what are you even trying to accomplish by staring at me? Aren't you the one who was so scared of turning heads and alerting your people?"
Fabia shrugs, and lets out another deep, dark sigh. "I don't know."
Fabia's answers are curt and cold, and they cut through his skin. For whatever reason, her nonchalonce is intolerable and insufferable. And it hurts.
So Ren leaves, still half in love with her, shutting the door and setting out to do his mission.
The next time they meet at another one of the queen's parties, the queen is knocking back more champagne glasses than last time. And Ren knows that can't be healthy. He drags her away from the servers passing them out, and pulls her into a more private room.
"What are you doing?" she hisses, pulling her arm out of his grip.
"Stopping you from making a fool of yourself!"
"And you're going to cause a scandal by dragging me back here! We have had meaningful conversations about this, Ren!"
Ren says nothing. Nor does the queen. But then she opens her mouth again.
"I'm going back in. I'll cool it with the drinking, but now, thanks to you, I'm going to have to - mmph!"
Why he does it, Ren has no clue. But Fabia pulls away, and shakes her head. For someone who had been so jealous that it burned her entire body only a few weeks ago, she's certainly distant, now.
"If things were different," she starts, letting out another heavy, dark sigh, "But you know as well as I do that this doesn't work."
And she shuts the door behind her again, just the way she seems to fond of doing. For some reason, Ren had pictured that going differently.
But he should know by now that he's playing by the queen's rules.
end