A/N: I had this story collection up on a different site and just realized that I didn't have it uploaded here.
I take forever to upload and post, so I thought I would just make a story collection where I dump a bunch of ideas I had that either: I did nothing with, have no time right now to do anything with, or went nowhere beyond just the one scene. That way I can clear out some old WIPs and get rid of some drafts that have been piling up.
And because I also take forever to edit, I gave myself the challenge that everything has to have a word count of 1K or under. It was originally 500 and under, but I failed that one right out the gate, so I pushed the goalpost back to be more reasonable.
I haven't figured out how exactly I'm going to organize everything, but right now the characters and/or pairings will be in the chapter name.
I have a bunch of potential chapters right now I want to upload, but overall there's really not going to be an uploading schedule; the chapters will just come as I get to them.
Mileena watched the reflection of her face change with every stroke of a brush that passed over her skin.
Two sets of hands handled her make-up.
One set took care of her eyes.
And the other took care of her lips.
Fingers were tedious and careful as they moved around.
Another set of hands raked and pulled at her hair, pulling it back, and twisting it up into place - before tying it off. Palms ran over her head as they smoothed down any loose strands of hair; and they were careful to correct any unevenness that came with the now, high-sitting ponytail.
By now, it was a quick, and relatively painless, routine.
However, it was difficult to find her train of thought, let alone keep it going, with the sheer amount of hands that moved around her.
And the amount of maids and handmaids who passed in and out of doors and rooms around her didn't help either.
How odd it was to find herself in this place again.
Becoming Queen of the Tarkatan, Queen of the Seven Tribes hardly required any additional effort on her part.
Mileena had long since proven herself to the cannibalistic tribe of whom she drew half of her blood from.
And the Seven Tribes had long since accepted her amongst their kind.
Even the most stubborn had bent knee and offered their blades, and their lives to her.
Becoming Kahnum to all of Outworld, however, required far more work.
Despite the other tribes being just as blood-driven as her Tarkatans, the Shokans and the Centaurs insisted on handling their inner conflicts in what could be described as more humane ways. Despite Sheeva, and Motaro once serving under the control of her father, and finding their places amongst their own clans through battle, they did not share the same ideals amongst leadership.
They had all proven their worth for their own crowns, for their own seat at the table.
And they would all do what was necessary to keep both.
Which now required her to put more effort into her own ways of forgoing conflict.
Her mornings were now spent getting dressed and making herself presentable, rather than sleeping in the bloodbath of the night before.
It was a learning curve on her end, but Mileena was willing to learn.
If not for Outworld, than for her own crown.
Just like the others.
"Your gown is ready in the next room, Kahnum."
"Your carriage will be ready shortly."
Mileena waved off the horde of handmaidens around her.
She gave herself one more look in the mirror, before she stood up and moved away from the vanity, and then exited the room entirely.
Given her growing collection of clothing, she had had a room in the palace converted to hold all of them.
It had been Tanya's idea.
And admittedly, it had been a good one.
Gown was hardly what she would call her trademark Kahnum attire though, as fingers grabbed the hanging tunic from its hook and worked to slip it around herself. Years of hastily dressing had allowed her to perfect the art of wrapping the tunic first, and then tying the waist bindings on top with one hand. The maids always insisted on helping her dress, but Mileena felt that she needed to be in control of at least one thing in regards to her appearance.
Exiting the room, Mileena bypassed two more before she entered her bedroom.
It was dimly lit still.
Notably due to her companion, who was lingering in bed still, half-covered under the furs that Mileena insisted on bringing into the palace.
How the mighty had fallen, it seemed, given that Tanya had once been the one to run the palace before the help was brought in.
Tanya was awake of course, but she laid relaxed amongst the messy sheets still, with one hand lazily teasing her hair. The fur blankets that had wrapped the two of them together that morning were now tangled around the woman's waist, having been pushed down and away from her chest.
And Mileena was quick to see how doing so had left the woman's breasts exposed to the cool air circulating in the room.
"Put those away, will you," Mileena playfully chided, as she collected the gloves and stockings that went with the rest of her attire.
She had a room for her clothes, but she had made a habit of leaving her accessories in their bedroom.
Mostly for mornings like this, so that she might have an excuse to come in and wake the Edenian.
"I'm trying to leave on time today."
Tanya chuckled at the remark. "I see my lessons in hospitality are finally taking root."
Mileena owed the Edenian for helping her navigate the diplomatic challenges that came with the Outworld crown.
Even if it was for something as simple as leaving and arriving on time.
For the Seven Tribes, arrival was always somewhere between sunrise and sunset - with no further instructions.
The same could not be said everywhere else, unfortunately.
"I'm sure you are proud," Mileena teased.
"I'm impressed," Tanya spoke, as she gave a stretch before she finally pushed herself up into a loose-seated position. "But I shouldn't be. I know just how fast of a learner you are."
"Your ego is showing - and you are going to make me late."
"My ego isn't what's making you late."