A/N: Sheeshkebab totally belongs to Claire. All Hail Claire. *hailing* I use it with her permission. Speaking of which, I could do with a chicken kebab right now... school has amzaing ones... too bad I'm off school right now. That was sarcasm by the way. Much as I love chicken kebabs I would rather be off school and sans kebab than in school and avec kebab.
"Sheeshkebab guys, why do you think I'm incapable of kinky stuff?" Wendy complained, walking between Loki and Willa. They were heading to a formal reception for influential representatives from the four other tribes - the Markis and Marksinnas from the Kanin, Omte and Skojare and Sara from the Vittra as well as community members that, after the revolution, were now able to join the Council and have their voice heard.
"To be honest, Wendy, you're too cute and innocent for that sort of stuff," Willa said, slightly apologetically.
"Does this dress look innocent to you?" Wendy demanded of Willa, gesturing at all the red and the black and the lace.
Willa pursed her lips in contemplation and tipped her head to one side.
She looks weird when she does that, Wendy thought.
"Hey, I've seen you in stuff way sexier than that," Loki commented unexpectedly (on reconsideration, that's exactly the sort of stuff Loki always said, so it's actually pretty much expected of him). "Though that dress is class. You totally suit the Gothic look," he winked, "what with the chains etcetera. But you look beautiful in anything, Wendy," he smiled, genuinely.
Wendy blushed - she knew the difference between Loki's offhand compliments and when he honestly meant it.
Loki grinned wider. He loved it when Wendy blushed; more, he loved that he could make her blush. He stroked her cheek and leaned in to kiss her lightly on the lips.
"Uh, people?" Willa interrupted hesitantly, "You know it's not like me to ruin a moment but-"
Loki raised an eyebrow.
"What? Anyway, you guys better get going. We don't want to piss off the important people, do we?" Willa encouraged, leading the way down the hallway to the ballroom.
Wendy, feeling slightly envious of Loki's ability to raise one eyebrow only, dragged herself with bad grace after Willa, resigned to the fate of a brain-numbingly boring evening with posh twats and people trying to get her to give them money for some cause or other. It's not like Wendy didn't want to fund projects; on the contrary, she was all for the rebuilding of the community, but why the whole business of dressing up and hosting a summit was necessary she wasn't sure. One would have thought that being Queen would give you some power over stuff, but evidently that was a misinformed preconception.
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Three-quarters of an hour later found Wendy regretting her decision to follow Willa. Like, really regretting it. In fairness, Wendy reasoned, the reception wasn't quite as bad as the ones she'd experienced when Elora was alive. For one, there was no fat, sweating, perverted Chancellor – there was a hot young gay guy instead (Wendy constantly fangirled about what Bain and Tove got up to: she wished she could watch. Wendy suddenly shook her head, alarmed at the perversion invading her mind). For another, Wendy had Loki on hand, who made all the difference. Nevertheless, the meet and greet for the posh twats descended into boredom after the first four "It is such a pleasure to meet you, Your Majesty, it's what I've always dreamed! You're such an inspiration to us all!" Sorry, what? I've only been on the throne for a month tops and half my Council secretly hate me for being a "radical thinker"! Wendy thought, feeling most exasperated at the world and the people in it. Still, she appreciated the first four of those smarmily-executed greetings, before realising that a)they were all the same, no doubt slips of paper bearing suitable phrases had been distributed for people to memorise and b) they were empty words. One thing that Wendy found unbearably frustrating was that as the Queen, her subjects wouldn't speak their mind about her (to her face at least) so she had no idea whether they thought she could improve a particular plan or suggest a new perspective. They all just went along with what she said, out of fear or out of respect, though only her friends truly respected her. The Laris bitch conceded to Wendy's will for the most part, but not without an unnecessary amount of complaining (which was pointless, anyway, because Wendy wasn't gonna take no shit from her). Laris had seemed to have a conversion at the revolution, but unfortunately she'd gone back to her old ways. Wendy was dying to get rid of her but she was too high up the social scale to ask to leave without saying "It's because you annoy me so freaking much".
The meal was a bit more fun, because Wendy wasn't obliged to talk just as much and look happy all the time. Sitting at the head of the table, she resisted the urge to slouch in her seat, hunched over the pea soup. She normally liked pea soup well enough, but this one wasn't seasoned enough. However Wendy couldn't be arsed yelling at chefs to bring her new pea soup, so she poked at it a few times with her spoon, made a face and was satisfied for the time being.
The next course was duck in some sticky sauce thing. It was nicer than the soup but Wendy hardly got the chance to eat it because a woman with mousy brown hair from the Skojare kept engaging her in conversation. It was pretty awkward conversation too, because Wendy had made sure to sit all the reps as far away from her as possible. This was in order to prevent exactly what was happening now. She had seated Loki and Willa on her left and Tove and Bain on the right. Some people (i.e. Laris) had objected to that before Wendy gave her the evil eye. These guys were her friends and Laris most certainly was not.
The mouse lady finally shut up, so Wendy took the opportunity to take a huge bite out of her duck.
"Wendy?"
Wendy looked over at Willa, mouth bulging ungracefully.
Willa shook her head in what seemed like exasperation. "Dainty bites, remember?"
Wendy did remember. She recalled her princess training where she got to eat a shitload of food for a few afternoons under the pretense of training her "how to eat". Wendy didn't complain. She was a growing girl who liked her food. Consequently all the crap about fork etiquette and bite sizes went in one ear, did a U-turn and headed out immediately. Didn't even make it across her mind.
"Your Majesty?" a wavery voice called.
Wendy turned away from Willa, hastily swallowed the duck and scoured the hall for the voice.
"Eh, Your Majesty, I'm over here..."
She started at the sight of a middle-aged man with thinning black hair seated down beside Bain. At her table. "How did you get up here?" she blurted out.
The man coughed. He looked so frail Wendy wondered if an intense coughing fit would finish him off. "Eh, I was directed up here by the High Marksinna Laris, eh..."
Would she leave Wendy alone? Answer: no.
She mustered up a smile. "Well, may I help you?"
The man looked slightly flustered and raised a shaking hand to his face. He was tapping his nose, looking fearful.
Wendy was losing patience and her duck was losing warmth.
"I am... I am Markis Simmond from the Omte tribe. I, eh... was wondering... well, all the Markis and Marksinnas from our great tribe were wondering if, eh, you would do us the honour..."
Wendy blanked for a few seconds. She felt her eyes shutting. Gathering willpower, she forced them wide open and plastered a huge smile on her face.
The Markis recoiled. "Eh, so, would that be agreeable with Your Majesty?"
Trust me to miss the important bit, Wendy growled to herself.
"Yes, of course, I would be glad to...-"
Wendy glanced at Tove to help her out. Thankfully, he put the words in her head.
"To, um, teach rowing classes...? Sewing classes, that's it. Yes, I will go to Omte and teach the girls... their future careers? Oh my God, you sexist pig! Fuck off, I don't like you!"
The Markis gulped and coughed rapidly.
Wendy sat back in her chair, fuming.
"Uh, Wendy? You think we should ask for medical help? The guy's not looking too good," Bain informed her.
"Hell no. In fact, tell him to stop the racket he's making."
Wendy turned to Loki, who was grinning widely. "Pretty good, right?" she asked proudly.
"Yeah. Also, you have sauce on your nose." He laughed.
She wore an expression of dawning dismay. "Crap."
"See when you weren't listening to him and you put on that demented expression? You looked like a clown. I hate clowns," Tove said, making a face.
"I told you not to take big bites," Willa scolded.
"Hey, I can get rid of it," Loki suggested innocently.
Not here, Wendy thought futilely.
He licked the sauce off her nose.
The hall went silent.
Wendy's face went crimson.
Loki said, "That's nice sauce."
Oh, sure it is, she thought.
Gulping, Wendy said loudly, "What are y'all looking at?"
Y'all. Why did that have to slip out at a time like this? Wendy tried to regain composure by grabbing Loki's wine and downing it.
Loki looked slightly surprised.
Wendy looked around. Everyone was still staring. Gah, go away, she thought. "It hasn't worked," she whispered to Loki.
He took Willa's goblet from her place. "Here, have another one."
And they continued on in that vein for some time.
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A/N: Originally I wasn't going to finish it there, but I did. So there. Actually, I just ran out of ideas. And by the way, I literally have no clue what I'm gonna do for the next chapter, but I think it'll be the last. And I'm only just realising that sheeshkebab is an inside joke... Hang on, I want to thank my reviewers so far, you're awesome guys, love ya so much : Steffi6400ii [bonding over Ian], Stephanie, Emily Kadushin, Ice-Cold-Diamonds and my honoured Guest. You have no idea the surprise and happiness I feel by getting reviews :D And they're so nice, too!