A/N: Another shrt, and as requested I will be posting these separately from this story. I've only posted them along with this since they are of the same universe. And fear not, new parts will be updated today since I've made you all wait long enough. Enjoy and review!

Brandishing Katanas

She was alone tonight.

Not another person would be awake at this time – well, at least not any of the servants of the palace. Worked to the bone but satisfied with a grand meal the head chef had treated them with, they'd all retired to the sanctity of their respective maid quarters and chambers. A heavy night of sleep awaiting them, at the comfort of fluffed up sheets in the chilly night's breeze. But, she did not go to bed; instead, she was out and about in the empty halls. The flamed torches that lit up the corridors there, spun light, jittery shadows at her feet. They increased and decreased, respectively, in length at each torch she encountered and left.

The hem of her gown tugged a little as she pressed head first against the side of a red bricked wall, her face adjacent to the structure: she scanned the next corridor for any beings. Not a person in sight. Her apron slightly bruised brown now as she had mopped herself against the wall, a bit too much.

Fwack! Out, she brandished her deadly and harmful weapon. Its edge all bristled and ready to take blood should battle arise. Its hard wooden handle made of the finest wood in the kingdom. And its wielder, the bravest heroine of them all.

Steeping away from the cover of the wall into the next corridor, the lady made a sudden dash. Taking light hops in combat stance, while swinging her lethal katana at the imaginary foes that dared to approach her.

Fiona the maid and her trusty broom, had yet more adventure to seek.

Ripping free the servant hat tied at her head she let long mops of blonde hair stream around her neck, the longer ones reaching the upper part of her spine. The hat with the two odd, floppy points she'd stitched on, allowed her much mocking from the other maids, but they were no one to judge the 'fearless adventurer'. Nay, they were but a test of courage when facing criticism.

She tied the custom made hat onto her left shoulder, its two points, upward now as she secured the adornment. Just like two spikes on shoulder guards. My armor is ready. Fiona's eyes smile in menacing delight and the play takes place.

Out front, turn, swipe. The hero lurches out, lifting her mighty katana with both hands and swiveling back fast enough, to strike the troll right across its ragged chest.

Hold onto apron – don't trip- roll on ground next to wall. A large club comes crashing at her from the right, grabbing the ancient battle robes she's wearing; she takes a dive at the rocky floor: rolling out of the way and into safety.

BAM! Kick enemy's belly, stab in heart, spin to the right and knock out puny minion. And just as her thoughts echoed orders, the hero does so – all enemies down, her katana dripping with blood. Panting slightly at the theatrical fight scene she acted out, Fiona ended it with a throw of the hand which held the broom up into the air. Victory!

"Playing around at night now, are we?" a voice crooned from behind the hero, its tone mocking in every possible way.

In large rushes of blonde hair, Fiona turns to face her unexpected spectator. Her upper lip shivers as she calls out, "Ice Queen."

"The one and only," confirms the queen as she tosses back a lock of silver hair, that had nestled at her neckline. For a moment she examines the young lady before her, hair all out, a ridiculous garment tied at her shoulder and a broom now, held at her side.

"I-is there something you need, your majesty?" Fiona finally manages, disturbed by how intently she was being watched. She has no right to judge me, these are not working hours and I was alone.

"Oh nothing," the queen offers, as she takes small strides towards the other lady. "I was just wondering about and happened to come upon your - um, little performance we could say." Fiona could feel the rush of heat to her cheeks and faint throbbing at her neck, too. She could also feel the mocking from all the other servants, boiling up in the queen before her, another test of courage – another teasing to brave. After all, she was an adventurer and trials must be had from all classes of society.

But, what the Ice Queen said next, she did not expect at all.

"I'm impressed," the queen says, standing right in front of the maid. Giggling, as a light pink rises across her pale face, the Ice Queen leans in and places a little kiss on the maid's cheek. Her lips icy but oddly, warm at the same time linger for a while at Fiona's face. All the while, Fiona does not budge, hand still clutched around the broom handle and face, now, burning up much too quickly.

The queen whispers as she draws back, "You should come to my palace and show me how you do all that."

"Yeah – um, sure. I'll do that," the maid blurts out. Her mind slowly processing the invite - much too personal, to be a job offer. "Thank you, Ice Queen." Fiona really was grateful. Not just for the kiss, not just for the invite but also because no one had found her "fighting" any form of impressive up till now. Rather it was dubbed as childish and mostly, just the foolish daydreaming of a nutty servant.

"I shall be Bethany and you shall be Fiona, okay?" The queen clarifies, "No titles, not between us."

Us. The last word repeats in the maid's mind as she smiles and nods.

Moving to a side with her large puffed white dress following her, Bethany the Ice Queen readies herself to walk the rest of the corridor ahead. She turns her neck a little to the left before leaving, whispering, again, "I'll see you around then, my hero."

"Definitely," Fiona the hero replies as she grins at the empty passageway in front of her. Victory…