by impracticaldemon
for Shalily Week 2019, prompts: “Status Quo” & “Safety”
fandom: Fairy Tail
pairing: (human) Shagotte x Pantherlily
words: 1300 rating: general (historical/fantasy fluff)
[will also be available on FFnet and AO3]
~-----~
Queen and Captain
“Travel papers?”
The guard at the gate looked bored, and Pantherlily saw his eyes flick toward the horizon, and the bright orange-red glow of the setting sun. The tall former soldier had picked his time with care—no matter how much unrest remained in both the City and the country as a whole, a man who’d spent the day on gate duty in the sun would be hungry and averse to creating work for himself. Hopefully, he’d be disinclined to examine their documents too closely.
“Here.”
“Mm.” The guard scanned the artistically aged parchment with a practised eye, and Lily was glad he’d followed Lady Shagotte’s advice and spilled tea on it the day before. There was something very normal about tea stains. “Your wife, is she?”
“Yes.” He managed not to hesitate, this time. Her (former) Royal Majesty had scolded him just the day before about his reluctance to claim her—on paper!—as his bride. She’d understood his dilemma, but pointed out that she’d rather be married—on paper!—to him, than dead at the hands of the victorious invaders for the sake of royal etiquette. There was anonymity, and safety, in being a wife.
The guard smirked. “Frail little thing. Try not to break her, big man.” He gave Lily a friendly poke, and Lily tried not to scowl. He could tell he failed by the way the other man’s eyes narrowed. Then again, it would have been suspicious if he’d been happy with the comment. Or so he hoped. Acting wasn’t Lily’s strong point.
“…Yeah.” He shuffled his feet, desperately trying to look more like a big labourer than the former captain of the Queen’s Elite Corps. The dirt on his hands and face was authentic enough, as was the… odour… Lady Shagotte had insisted on rubbing into the soles of his boots.
[READ MORE BELOW]
There was a long pause while the guard made a show of rereading the documents. Pantherlily was just starting to get genuinely worried when the man stepped to one side with a shrug and a nod.
“Don’t cause any trouble. We’ll be keeping an eye on you—got it?”
“Got it.” Pantherlily gestured his ‘wife’ over, and tried to look natural about expecting her to follow him through the gates. It was killing him not to carry all her things for her, but she’d insisted it would look strange if he did. With an effort, he quelled the rage in his heart at having to watch her duck her head submissively to the annoying gate guard. Her life was more important than her dignity, as she kept telling him.
“Lily…”
A soft voice recalled him to his surroundings, and he felt heat suffuse his cheeks. Until a few days ago she’d only ever called him ‘Captain’ or ‘Captain Pantherlily’. Even if it was just for the sake of their disguise, he found it embarrassing to hear his adored Queen use his unadorned name, and a diminutive at that. Embarrassing and ridiculously charming—as if he didn’t love her enough already.
“Yes, My Qu—um, I mean, my… my dear?”
There was a gurgle of laughter from beside him. Two bright eyes peered up at him from between the wide brim of an unfashionable travel hat, and a wide scarf.
“You sound so—so unconvincing, Captain!” Then she clapped her slender hands over her mouth at her faux pas and glanced around nervously.
“Sorry,” muttered Pantherlily, also casting a wary eye over the people around them. As far as he could tell, nobody was paying them special attention except to the extent of being cautious of his size. He made an effort to slow his pace and drag his feet a little.
Lady Shagotte cleared her throat. “I’m sure it’s fine, dear. No need to look so uncomfortable just because we’re finally in the big city.”
“As you say, Sh-Shagotte.” Her name wasn’t a problem in and of itself, since many girls had been named after her while she was still a child, and even after she’d taken the throne following her parents’ tragic death. But to use such a familiar form of address—! It simultaneously lacerated Pantherlily’s sensibilities, and made heat rise to his cheeks. He was glad his skin was too dark to show any but the deepest blushes.
~-----~
They took a room at a moderately respectable inn, grateful for the chance to wash, even superficially. Pantherlily had already chosen the place as a short-term refuge during the early part of the one-sided war. Lady Shagotte’s most devious advisor—and where was that irritating man now?—had arranged things so that Pantherlily would be known as a friend of a friend when he arrived. It was fortunate that the Royal Palace was located in a town over a hundred miles from the City, though. Otherwise, it would have been too great a risk for him to travel with the Queen, even in disguise.
“You’re frowning again, Lily,” murmured Lady Shagotte, setting a cup of tea in front of him. She’d insisted on learning to make and serve ‘commoner’s tea’.
“My lady—”
“Pantherlily. You promised to try harder. We’ll never be convincing in public if we don’t practice in private!”
Lily took a sip of tea. It was an effort to drink the bitter, ill-steeped brew, but she had made it for him, and he bore it stoically. Besides, it had improved, and now resembled tea more than ditch-water.
“…I beg your pardon, my—I mean—Shagotte.”
With her hat and gauzy scarf discarded—the door had been firmly locked—Shagotte looked much more herself again. She was smiling, but her eyes were tired and sad, and Lily longed to hold her and—
“Well, I suppose I am your Shagotte at the moment.”
“Ah—er.” Her words had been light, but it had been impossible—even for him—to miss the hint of underlying sincerity, or maybe hopefulness.
They stared at each other, expressions mirroring the same rush of longing, uncertainty, and deep loneliness. Old habits and rigid principles vied with human need for love and consolation.
Shagotte cleared her throat and looked down, eyes once more veiled by long, near-white lashes. “Captain, I—”
Her words were abruptly muffled as Lily pulled her across the short distance into his lap, and pressed her tightly against his solid chest. Large, capable hands stroked her back, and caressed her damp, tangled hair. He was very strong, but she was the most precious being in the world to him, and his touch communicated both love and desire—he would never hurt her, even by accident. The gate guard had risked his life by implying otherwise.
“My Queen… Let’s just pretend… for a while…” He pressed his lips to her forehead, marvelling at how warm and supple she was, despite the superficial frailty that had caused such anxiety to her court officials. They had not understood her brilliance and strength, and their fear had led to disaster.
“…Mmm… Lily…” Shagotte leaned away from him a little, just enough so that she could glimpse his face. “Let’s—let’s stop pretending for a while. Shall I tell you how I really feel about you?”
“No—I don’t know if I could go back to… how it must be… if you did that.”
In response, Shagotte wrapped her arms around Lily’s neck, and pulled his face down to hers. Her beautiful eyes were brighter than ever before.
“Then I’ll show you, dear captain, dear Lily, so that you’ll never forget.” She whispered the words against his lips, before kissing him as passionately as innocence and inexperience would allow.
“My Queen…” Minutes passed, and when they finally needed air, Lily corrected himself, murmuring the words into her ear, while his sword-worn hands explored her soft skin: “Shagotte, my dearest, only love…”
[END]
Likes, comments, reblogs are all appreciated!
~ Imp
"I love you ..." he murmured softly, every word accompanied by a gentle kiss to her temple. He had to be careful as to not wake her, she generally did not get much sleep as a queen, but he could not help it.
Instead, he could only watch over her, confide in her the secrets he was not ready to tell her if she were awake. Pantherlily still had some time before he would bring those words to his lips when she was not sleeping and lying in his arms.
He preferred to keep watch that no one had followed them and watched her sleep, rather than confess.
That her sleep was anything but peaceful was clear to him as soon as she fell into Morpheus's arms, but he could do nothing except wait until the morning dawned and they had to move on to shake off her pursuers.
He wanted to be angry for her on her behalf, he really wanted to, for all the treachery she had experienced several hours ago, when a group of rebels invaded the castle and seized power by a coup attempt.
His beloved queen had seen her younger sister, Alisha, get murdered cold-hearted by slitting her throat after she had already given up and submitted. The girl had never been violent, so her death was all the more cruel and ironic.
Her screams ... he could never forget those screams, he did not want to, because he would stick to those memories, make himself strong, so that Queen Shagotte would use him as a shield, a sword, a friend, whatever she needed him as. He did not care what was happening to him, she was the only important thing in the world and if he died for her ... he would do it - without hesitation.
Today, however, he could only hold the devastated woman in his arms, warm her and hope that the next day would dawn. Hope her pain would fade.
"I love you ..." he breathed again, a kiss on her head this time. "I'll take care of you ... just the two of us against the rest of the world."
Sorry for the inactivity ç__ç really
To make up for it I want to share a “old” drawing.
"White" and "Black" can love deeply each other. I want only to give a message of peace, tollerance and love. In particular after bad news from USA about the people that were dead at the hands of the police.
A Shalily fic ~ Shagotte x Pantherlily, Fairy Tail fandom - written for @shalilyqueenwrites A small xmas fic gift!
Summary: Dubbed the Queen of Gin by her customers, Shagotte runs her speakeasy during daylight hours as a questionable poetry parlour. Investigated by a stalwart G-man who's got his own secret demons, Shagotte learns to love and trust, saving herself and her new love.
"Why would I look the other way, Miss Shagotte?" Lily rolled his eyes, grimacing as the suspected gin runner fluttered her eyelashes. "Somehow, every night, your gatherings are full of people."
"We're poetry enthusiasts." Shagotte grinned and winked at the irritated face of the attractive G-man. "Arts enrich the soul, doncha know."
"And yet your patrons see fit to enrich your pockets. All from reading poems? I think not." The tall and thickly muscled man shook his head. "You're wetting their lips with hooch, I can't prove it now, but I will soon."
"Dear heart, don't be such a tragic downer!"
"Excuse me?"
Shagotte crossed her arms, a tempting smile on her lips. "Would you prefer I call you sweetheart?"
"I'll have my numbers men nose out your accounts, and then you won't be so chipper." Lily straightened his hat and smoothed the lapels of his double-breasted suit. "Good day, Miss Shagotte."
"Always a pleasure." Shagotte leaned in close to her opponent. "You should smile more, makes you much more attractive." She smirked as Mr. D'Pantheur marched out of her salon in a snit. He was tasty, but the money she earned from selling gin illegally was more important than romancing some uptight government stooge.
><><><><
Miss Shagotte welcomed Friday night's guests with a smile and specially printed poetry booklets. Tonight she'd been given ideas from a certain G-man - and the lyrical poetry was very fresh - and very original.
Shagotte greeted the steady stream of her patrons. "Nice to see you and the missus, Mr. Dragneel! Who's your friend? Glad to see you've returned, Mr. and Mrs. O'Connel! You're in luck, tonight's reading is going to be the talk of the town." Shagotte passed out her freshly minted pamphlets, accepting a new stack from Aaron, one of her best helpers, and then urged him to assist in the kitchen.
"Talk of the town?" Lucy Dragneel tapped Shagotte on the shoulder. "I don't see an author's name on this."
"It's a surprise for later." Shagotte smiled, her eyes sparkling. "Who's your friend, Lucy?"
"I'm a regular blue-stocking, a bibliophile, an aficionado of the written word!" Lucy's friend answered, smiling as she took in the details of the parlour; dozens of rickety chairs ringing small tables - and a podium on a raised dais.
Lucy giggled and flicked the shorter woman in the forehead. "Dizzy dame, she wants your name!"
"Levy McGarden, pleased to meet you!" Levy thrust out her hand - which was accepted and rapidly pumped by Shagotte who smiled wider.
"I'm delighted to find another literature lover. You're gonna want a seat close to the action." Shagotte pointed to the front chairs. "Especially if my special guest shows."
Levy and Lucy exchanged looks of glee. They promised to find Shagotte afterwards to discuss tonight's poetry, moving to claim their seats.
At the scheduled time, Shagotte signaled for the doors to shut and she made her way to the podium. Her bright red high heels thumped at each step, drawing as much attention and admiration for her smart outfit as her smiling freckled face crowned with lustrous pale hair. Making a show of lifting her manuscript, Shagotte greeted the crowd. She made a few opening remarks about the weather and how glad she was to see so many in attendance.
She checked her watch and began to read the first poem, starting with the title: 'Bothersome Boy,' glittering amusement in her eyes and a suppressed smirk on her lips. A ripple of amusement moved around the room, the disturbance feeding Shagotte's satisfaction. She flipped to the next page and with even more passion, began reading 'Ode to Numbers: How a Certain Man Does Not Add Up.'
Reciting the third stanza of the poem, where the 'certain man' was compared in a bad light to a succession of local ne'er do-wells, Shagotte could hear the muffled honking of a bike horn from the street. With even more enthusiasm she read the next stanza. It dealt with the 'certain man's' poor fashion sense; cheap shoes and shiny tie that clashed with his suspenders. Keeping her eyes downcast on her book, Shagotte kept orating the poem. She heard the tread of a late-comer to the soiree and the creak as they settled into a chair. Another ripple of amusement circled the room as the attendees made certain connections between the new arrival and the content of the next poem which was titled 'Gee Whiz G-Man.'
Several more poems were read, with every progressive title drawing more titters of amusement. Shagotte announced an intermission and darted towards her private sitting room. Caught short by a 'certain man's' solid grip on her upper arm.
"Interesting, Miss Shagotte. You had such a good impression of me the other day, complementing my attractive smile. But today you've lambasted my clothes, job, and IQ. I'd be hurt, but I'd have to care about your impression of me for that to happen."
"Don't start off with a lie Mister G-man." Shagotte fluttered her thickly lashed eyes. "I said you would be more attractive if you smiled more." She tried to wrench herself out of Lily's grip and failed, so she glared pointedly at his large hand on her body. So large and capable looking, a bit rough but his warmth felt nice. "Do let go."
"Sorry." His cheeks flushed and he hunched his shoulders. "I've had enough of the stares, can we take this discussion out of the public eye?" Lily removed his hand from Shagotte's arm and looked at it front and back before shoving it into his coat pocket. "Please?"
"Fine," muttered Shagotte. "I'll give you ten minutes." She decided to blame her momentary lapse of judgment on the man's softly spoken plea. That was a weakness she'd work to eradicate later. Giving the watching crown an insouciant wave, Shagotte strutted off to her sanctuary as if taking Lily D'Pantheur there was actually her own idea.
Pouring herself a tall glass of water from a waiting pitcher, Shagotte took a satisfying gulp before offering Lily some. He shook his head and she giggled. "It's water, not gin. As if I'd offer you any rotgut seeing as you're so convinced I'm running hooch at my fine establishment."
"Thanks for bringing up the reason I'm here." Lily strolled around the room; taking a long, hard look at the pale pink upholstered seating, the doily encrusted wooden tables and gilt-covered frames holding brightly coloured art. "I need your help."
"You're crazy, Mister G-man." Shagotte set down her glass and crossed her arms, glaring for all she was worth at Lily. "My help? You've been accusing me of breaking the law and tryin' to shut me down. You need my help?" Angry sparks seemed to shoot from her eyes. "Please." Her chin lifted and her pink cupid's bow mouth flattened into a thin line. "You may leave."
"Not until you hear me out."
"How about you get out?"
"Please." Lily stopped his pacing in front of Shagotte. He bowed his head after removing his hat and holding it over his heart. "There's a new threat in town and I figure you're more good than bad. I see how many kids you're taking care of, you're their mother figure and someone like that can't be all bad."
"Excuse me?" Outrage made Shagotte raise her voice higher than she'd intended - several of her older helpers burst into the sitting room and milled about in as threatening a manner as they could manage.
"Do you need escortin' outside?" The oldest child stomped over to Lily. "Don't make me ask you twice." Miranda settled her hands on her thin hips and let her disgust show. She would have been exceedingly cute except for the jagged scar that covered her left cheek from her jaw to under her ear. With Lily remaining silent, Miranda turned to her boss. "Miss Shagotte, do you want us to give this bum the bum's rush?"
Shagotte held up a hand and shook her head. "He's a bum all right, but I need to hear him out. He's a government goon, yet I'm curious about what he's got to say."
Miranda sighed, as did the other three young adults; Richard, Betty, and Karl. The leader of the group, Miranda pouted but held her tongue.
"I'm not anything near a bum." Lily held up his hands in mock surrender. "I'm a hard working government soldier."
"Just yell if you need us, Miss Shagotte." Miranda and the others filed out of the room.
"More like hardly working government soldier." Shagotte deliberately turned her back to Lily, sauntering towards a credenza covered in books and potted plants. She turned and leaned against the piece of furniture. "What is it you want, Mr. D'Pantheur?"
Lily gulped, the sound loud and surreal in the confines of Shagotte's sitting room. "I want to understand you."
"I do believe you've flipped your lid."
"No." Lily rubbed his forehead. "The new gangs moving in are trouble. I've come to see you're the lesser of two evils."
"Thanksssss." Shagotte drew out the 'es' of her reply. "You sure know how to make a gal feel good about herself."
"Give me a chance and you'll never look back."
"Why should I?"
Lily D'Pantheur dropped his hat and sank to his knees in front of Shagotte. His voice was a soft echo of his former volume. "Because I know you are doing whatever it is you're doing to keep those kids off the street." He looked Shagotte dead in her eyes and smiled. "And if you don't work with me your business is doomed to failure."
Shagotte clenched her hands into fists. "Threatening a woman is a low and disgusting action."
"I'm afraid it's a promise." Lily slowly stood, rising to his full height. "You can work with me to bring down the new threat in the neighbourhood or be smashed with them."
Never slow or foolish, Shagotte took in all the new information given by Mr. G-man. A sour smile on her lips, she thrust out her hand and spoke. "Let's shake on it."
He immediately saw, that she was happy. How could you not see it? A broad grin graced her lips, her eyes shone with unconcealed rapture, her whole face beaming, and even the aura he could truly feel of her was nothing but excitement.
Pantherlily was glad that he had suggested going into a butterfly house and looking at the colorful butterflies, perhaps even feeling them close up. He had made her put on an orange top. It was not her favorite color, but he knew butterflies were magically attracted to these colors.
Of course he could have suggested pink, purple or red to her, but ... he wanted to see her in something other than ther usual colors. He chuckled softly. He could not even feel guilty, when he saw her excitement as the first animal settled on her shoulders.
She hardly dared breathe, let alone move. Still, he carefully took his camera out to take pictures of her because he was sure she wanted a lasting memory of it.
Shagotte beamed at him as if she were the sun herself and his heart was melting.
She woke to the scorching heat that enveloped her entire body. Thick puffs of smoke crept slowly across the floor and for a moment she was disoriented. What was going on here? Why was it so hot and so stuffy that she could not breathe? A coughing fit promptly seized her and she had to give in.
Only then did she realize what was happening. Her eyes widened in horror. The apartment block was burning - or at least something near her. She swung her legs over the edge of the bed to get up, but stumbled as she was vertical. What-?
Again she coughed, but this time she could not stop. It was getting worse: the heat, the smoke, the dizziness that had seized her ...
Shagotte had to get out of here, and quickly, if she wanted to see the next day. Most of the burnt victims did not die from the fire - they died from smoke poisoning and she needed fresh air.
She reached for the window to open it to find an escape route, but she slipped for a moment and screamed. The handle was burning hot and this one was made of plastic. Her metal door knob would be too hot to handle. Or…?
One glance at the door was enough to see that the smoke billowed beneath the slit, blocking the corridor. Panic rose in her, which she had laboriously suppressed. How was she supposed to get out of here, out into freedom and security?
Again her eyes flickered to the window. She had no choice, it was the only way. So she grabbed her blanket and wrapped her hand over it before she twisted the handle with this improvised glove and finally, finally, the window opened. Greedily, she gasped.
Then she looked down.
A bad mistake, as she immediately realized. She felt sick when she saw the depth and the dim feeling in her head did not help. She hesitated. Once again she looked to the door and with horror she realized that it was now in flames and crackled loudly when it burned. The smoke became more disgusting as the paint burned and she had to choke, causing another coughing fit.
She looked over the windowsill and suddenly there was a terrible bang, so she lost her balance in fright and fell over in the front. A bloodcurdling scream escaped her.
That's it. She was dead, she would-
She blinked in surprise. She would not fall to her death. With a trembling body, she opened her eyes, which she had closed and saw strong, muscular arms that held her tight. Her gaze wandered upwards, up into a distinctly angular face. Dark eyes stared at her seriously and she wanted to say something to ask who he was, how he could catch her, but no sound came out.
"W-w-" she croaked, before coughing again, but she was already getting much better air than before. "Not. You can ask me questions later, first I have to get you out of harm's way, "he said, his voice deep and reassuring that she immediately felt better.
He dropped her across the street, looked at her and smiled. "You're safe now." With these words, he crouched down a few feet and jumped several yards in a leap, she was left staring after her savior, this superhero, stunned.
If she had had enough strength, she would have blushed, so she made only a faint but grateful smile.
He could not help it. Of course, he knew it was ... not the best option. But how else could he observe her unhindered in her ballet training if he did not hide ... like a stalker? Lily felt so uncomfortable watching an unknown woman for hours, but ... as he said: he could not help it.
Not if she looked so beautiful, so ethereal, so ... gorgeous. It seemed to him as if she was not of this world. Everything spoke for it.
Her alabaster skin, her white-blond hair, silvery eyes, that gorgeous face, her elegance, her dedication to her workout ... she was just magical.
No normal person could hover so effortlessly across the floor, he simply did not believe in it.
Sometimes he wondered why he did this, day after day, hour after hour, but then his gaze fell on her ghostly appearance, and at the same moment he answered his own question. For her, to see how she danced as if there was nothing else in this world, just her, the music and her movements.
She formed a rhythm that seemed strange to him, and yet he began to look at it as familiar. He had watched her too often not to. On some days, when she awoke from her trance and looked around, he had to hide so she would not see him - he was not sure how to explain his presence.
"I'm sorry, but I discovered you one day training and found you fascinating, so I've been watching you every day ever since."
He could not say that without sounding like someone in need of psychiatric treatment for obsessive and stalker-like behavior. It was not like that at all - at least not quite. It was not that he wanted to watch her out of the shadows forever, at some point, if he had accumulated enough courage, he would address her too, but until then he had to come to terms with the words and hope that he did not seem too intrusive.
Lily sighed wistfully as he looked back at her. How can a single, human being simply be so ... perfect?
He saw her start packing her things after drinking some water from her bottle. His mood sank immediately and with a sad expression he realized that it was over for today. It just felt like he had appeared a few minutes ago, in fact, he stood here for nearly two hours - her entire workout time over.
He wanted to leave, he really wanted it, but then ... then she looked up and he froze. So they looked at each other, both amazed.
Then a ray of light fell on her and he could have sworn he saw glittering wings on her back ... she smiled at him and his breath caught.
She looked really adorable, she did not seem irritated by him and his presence-
"Hi how-"
She did not get any further, because he whirled 180 ° around his own axis, took his legs in his hand and ran, like the devil were on his heels. He was not ready to face her, the only thing he thought in his panic.
What he could not explain were the wings ... or had he just imagined them?
