Band: Fabulous Thunderbirds
Song: She's tuff
Pairing: Jon/Thayet
You oughta see my baby when she walk down the street
Upsettin' everybody she meet
She's twenty-three in the waist, thirty-eight in the hips
She got long black wavy hair and ruby-red lips
Thayet on the Grand Progress was a grand thing to watch. She smiled waved, and looked every inch a queen. People—well, men at least—fell in love with her at first sight. Jon glanced sideways at his wife, drinking in her incredible beauty.
A giggling child ran toward her horse. Before Jon could react, Thayet leaned precariously sideways in the saddle, reached out, and grabbed the youngster before he got in the way of the warrior's chargers. Folk clapped, and Thayet smiled breathlessly, embarrassed.
She dismounted and held the boy before the crowd. A young woman, blushing furiously, pushed her way into the street. She curtsied deeply and opened her arms. The toddler shrieked and babbled merrily as he bounced back to his mother's arms.
Thayet remounted and patted her mare's neck. "Now, that's not something we normally cover in Rider training." She confessed to the onlookers. "But I've found it's a useful trick to know, since I've two younglings of my own." The mothers in the crowd grinned appreciatively.
Jon smiled. She had the people wrapped around her delicate, deceptively strong pinkie.
Oh she's tuff
Oooo, she's tuff
My baby's tuff, she ruff and tuff
And that's tuff enuff
The only imperfect feature Thayet possessed was her nose (it was too large to be fashionable). Now it was broken to boot. She mopped away the blood, simultaneously brushing off the dozen healers that flocked to her. "I'm fine." She growled. Her voice was a nasally whine. She winced.
Where'd they all come from? She'd been practicing with the Riders. It wasn't as if she was doing anything dangerous; it was just standard training with the new recruits. One poor trainee had caught the queen off-guard. Serves me right. Thayet thought with grim good humor.
The rest was history—or at least, it was about to become palace gossip. Thayet slapped away the hands of Duke Baird. "I said—
"Let him heal you." Jon's calm command drifted through the courtyard as he appeared over her shoulder. His voice allowed no dissent. She spun around, ready to knock him on him on his arse.
His own sapphire gift slid over her, cool and refreshing. Her temper cooled a dozen degrees. Damn him, he was good at that. Her shoulders relaxed, her rebellious streak was almost smothered as Jon's cooling magic flowing through her.
"This may hurt." Duke Baird said apologetically. 'Hurt' was not the word Thayet chose to describe the sensation. She used multiple, colorful, and probably inappropriate terms to describe the feeling of grating cartilage and explosion of pressure in her sinuses.
She spluttered curses for a moment, and then released the breath she'd been holding. Now it felt better. She looked up at her husband's smug grin. He was so proud; he wore his special, 'I am king, I handled the situation perfectly, everyone loves me' smile. He didn't stop to think that maybe Thayet wanted to handle the situation by herself, that maybe she wanted to let the wound heal on its own. Jon hadn't given her a chance to use her voice. He went through periods like this; and his attitude had been building since "he" won the war against Scanra. Thayet had allowed him bask in the glory for a bit, but was too much. She had the right to say what happened to her body--and no one else.
She clocked him, and was rewarded when she heard a satisfying crack. Blood trickled down Jonathan's fine tunic. "Remember that you're not the only one who gives commands around here." She murmured sweetly.
Duke Baird sighed and stepped toward the King. "This may hurt." The healer warned.
She walk past a clock, the clock won't tell time
She walk through the college, professor lose his mind
Lindhall was not prepared for his monthly meeting with the Queen. His office was a mess, the turtle was sick; his clothes were dirty—at least Bonedancer was occupied. The undead, prehistoric creature was busy chewing through the professor's most expensive leather belt. And that was the least of Lindhall's worries.
There was a knock on his door. Stifling a groan, Lindhall trotted across the room and opened the door to his office. King Jonathan stood outside, his hands folded neatly in front of him. Lindhall breathed a sigh of relief. "Oh good, it's just you." The mage murmured.
Jon choked. After a moment, he laughed. "Let me guess, you were expecting my wife?"
Blushing, Lindhall nodded.
Cause she's tuff
Oooo, she's tuff
My baby's tuff, she ruff and tuff
And that's tuff enuff
Jon dreaded this time of the month. Alanna and Thayet were on the same "calendar". Individually, each woman was a terror; together, they were a force of nature. At least today, the women were aiming for each other's throats.
Thayet was a blur of baby blue linen; she twirled, lunged, parried in one constant, fluid motion. Her long glaive gave her added reach—something that Alanna hated.
The Lioness growled and sidestepped, her sword sliced through empty air. Thayet let out a triumphant cry. With a double handed sweep and twist, Thayet disarmed the nation's champion. Jon stood and clapped loudly…at least, until he saw the look on Alanna's face.
He paled and hurriedly moved close to his wife. Thayet smiled, grabbed the front of his tunic, and pulled him down for a long, dramatic kiss. Winning always put her in a good mood.
Jon stepped back from the kiss, taking a moment to study his wife. Her skin sparkled with sweat; if anyone could make perspiration look attractive, it was Thayet. Her cheeks were flushed, her eyes over-bright. She swept back a lock of her sable hair.
Jon leaned down to kiss her again. It was good to have a wife who stood toe-to-toe with Lionesses. He could sleep much easier at night—provided he was on Thayet's good side.
The president said to my baby, come here, sweetheart
You can stop a world war even before it start
We know the enemy won't pull the trigger
When they walk out on the front line and they see your fine figure
Thayet was a pearl among pebbles. And it wasn't because of the expensive dress she wore, nor the crown sitting on her head; it was because she glowed. From the inside out, she radiated majesty.
This time, Jon remembered to close his mouth. He glanced over at Tyra's dignitary. If Ivanhoff's jaw sunk any lower, his beard would be mopping the dining hall floor. Jon smiled happily. She's mine.
Jon ruled a country, he owned a mystical diamond and he had acquired an astounding personal fortune. Nevertheless, as he looked at Thayet, he knew what he valued most.
Cause you tuff
Oooo, she's tuff
My baby's tuff, she ruff and tuff
And that's tuff enuff
Thayet watched her husband in the mirror of her dressing table. She fiddled with her hair, but her mind was on the man standing behind her. He was a gorgeous figure of a man. Thayet knew it, and unfortunately, he knew it. Still, she liked to tease him.
"Is that a gray hair, dear?" She stood plucked an imaginary hair off his scalp. Jon lunged toward the mirror.
"Where? Did you get it?" Jon's fingers nimbly trickled through his black mane. Thayet laughed. "That isn't funny." He grunted. "Remember this day when you find your first gray hair."
Thayet smiled, mock-sadly. "Darling, I've been growing gray hairs for years now; at least I have the sense to dye them."
Jon stared at his wife in shock. "We're starting to grow old together." He said, horrified. "I never imagined we'd make it this far." He confessed.
Thayet hugged his broad shoulders reassuringly. "We're not dead yet." She informed him. Her kiss sent fire through his veins; it made him feel at least ten years younger. Their morning appointments could wait. He gathered his queen up into his arms and enjoyed the company of the woman who was his until death did them part. Even then, Jon still wasn't sure he'd be able to let her go.
And that's tuff enuff
And that's tuff enuff
And that's tuff enuff
a/n: Sorry if the flashes seemed a little shallow; I try to stay in sync with the ideas presented by the lyrics…and well, this song is kinda about looks. Oh yeah, the Lindhall thing was totally random; just popped into my head when I read the lyric above it. I'm NOT advocating Lindhall/Thayet or anything, the scene was just meant to show the effect Thayet has on even the most absent-minded men . I wrote this chapter because someone suggested a Jon/Thayet pairing in a review (and Shinko/Roald will be coming soon). If there is someone you'd like to see paired off, let me know.
