I couldn’t think of a title for the life of me. This is for an exchange with @sillyengineer! It’s set in @winnyverse’s “Petitioner” universe (who I don’t seem to be able to tag for some reason.) If you haven’t read Petitioner yet - you need to get on that, it’s AMAZING. Anywho - hope you like it, @sillyengineer!
Hm. Tumblr’s being a butt and I can’t make it post a “read more” cut. :/ Sorry folks.
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Jhanna removed her ceremonial headdress and slowly rotated her neck, first one way, then the other, feeling the bones crack and resettle. It had been a long day - there was a trade dispute between two warring tribes, and of course, only an audience with the Prime Magistrate could resolve it, even though she basically heard the same arguments for three hours and upheld the exact the same ruling that their Local Office had delivered. She huffed, her lip curling in annoyance - who did these people think she was?! The law was the law. She wasn’t some magical, all-powerful shevtar who popped out of a niburri pod, granting wishes for diluma fruit. Honestly, did these people grow up in a khubarin?
She removed the pins from her hair and sighed, shivering as her dreads fell and her scalp prickled with goosebumps. She rotated her shoulders a few times, smiling to think of her lover’s fingers weaving their magic on her shoulders. She had more than earned a little recreation with her Chosen One tonight.
Donatello always listened. He would dig the pads of his large, strong fingers into her tense muscles and make those funny little noises of his: “Mm,” “I see,” “Huh,” “And then what?” It had been so irksome at first - she was not accustomed to being interrupted while she was speaking.
“But - but,” he had stammered, his face a mask of wounded shock, “How else would you know I was listening?”
“I am the Prime Magistrate,” she had replied archly, “When I speak, everyone listens.”
She smirked, and actually giggled softly at the memory. It had been one of their first little lover’s tiffs. In truth, Donatello was still a stranger to many of their ways, and probably would be forever…but she wouldn’t have it any other way. His presence was so refreshing, so unburdened from all of the layers of tedious protocol her other interactions were smothered by. There were those in the court who thought him simple because of this, or childish…maybe even a bit slow. But she had never known an intellect as incisive, as nimble, or as adaptable as Donatello’s. Or had a lover as incisive, nimble, or adaptable, come to that.
Her cheeks warmed, and she felt a pleasant shudder of anticipation. Yes, a hot bath and a massage, and then perhaps a little -
The small bell by the door to the antechamber tinkled musically on its hinge and Jhanna suppressed a groan. It was such a pretty sound, but she had come to truly loathe it.
“Enter,” she said, wearily.
“Honored One, Jhanna,” Kharra, her Head Servant replied, bowing respectfully.
“What’s up, Kharra?” Jhanna smiled wearily, waving away her formality with a weary wrist. It was an Earth phrase she had picked up from Donatello - she liked it. It was kind of playful, like many things about Donatello - it made it sound like problems were just floating around in the air like clouds, easily dispersed.
Kharra scowled. She preferred to keep things formal, and wasn’t exactly pleased with the gormless reptile wandering around the royal palace touching things and asking questions and showing up where you least expected him. Jhanna smirked. She loved Kharra - but had to admit, she found it amusing, seeing her flummoxed.
“What is…up, Honored One?” Kharra replied, feigning confusion.
“What have you come to tell me?” Jhanna sighed, stretching again, and shrugging her robes off, “Please let it be important. I was just going to see Don.”
“Ah. Yes. Actually…this concerns the…Royal Consort. From…Earth.”
Jhanna snorted in spite of herself. She had said ‘Earth’ as though it were a Viramian mud-pit.
“Really, Kharra, it can not be that catastrophic. What has he done now?”
“Well, if you’ll permit me to guide you, Honored One,” Kharra bowed again, indicating the door.
Oh well, she’d been wanting to see Don anyway.
“Lead on,” she ordered, and followed Kharra’s hasty, officious footsteps down the glittering, polished hall, all the way down the winding steps to the servants’ quarters, past the kitchens - servants of every walk of life gasping as she passed and either bowing or snapping to attention with a salute. She smiled and nodded graciously, beginning to wish she had left her ceremonial robes and headdress on. Her hair was down and free and she only had a simple sheftr on. Not very regal.
Kharra indicated the door that lead to the servant’s courtyard and bowed once more.
“My lady,” she said, stiffly.
Jhanna opened the door, curiosity now getting the better of her, and poked her head out to see -
She gasped involuntarily, and held her breath for a moment.
Donatello was seated on the dusty, dirty ground, surrounded by a ring of children -
Lower-caste children. The children of the servants.
He still wore some of the trinkets and bracelets she had given him - completely unaware of how rude it was for him to be here, flaunting that wealth in what was supposed to be their private world. The servants working under the shady porches of the courtyard eyed him nervously now and again. They didn’t seem offended, thank J’tarra, just very confused and a bit apprehensive. And worst of all…
“Dock, Dock, Dock,” one of the children was saying, walking around the outside, touching each of their heads as he spoke.
“Oh dear,” Jhanna cringed, under her breath.
“You see the problem,” Kharra said, quietly.
“Dock, Dock…” the child drew near to Donatello with a mischievous, impish grin, “GOOSE!”
Apparently the nonsense word was some kind of signal, as, scrambling to his feet amidst shrieks of laughter, Don began chasing after the child. Jimto? Jimko? Something like that - Jhanna thought he might be the son of one of the cooks. So it was a racing game, then…If so, then he was obviously pretending to be much slower than he truly was, to make it fun for the children.
In spite of the gross breach of protocol, in spite of how wildly inappropriate it was for him to be out here at all, let alone playing with the children in the dirt and the hot sun, let alone pulling them away from their parents and their work, let alone encouraging them to touch each other’s heads -
Jhanna shook her head, a grin growing ever wider on her lips. No, he obviously had no idea exactly how many customs and expectations he was currently flouting. The children knew better, but were clearly thrilled to be getting away with some very silly behavior, equally aware that their parents didn’t dare correct them if someone from such a higher caste was encouraging it…and they were clearly as delighted by the game as he was, practically splitting their sides with laughter.
Jhanna felt her heart warm, her eyes roving over Donatello’s toned thigh muscles as he ran, olive-y green and marble-hard, and the flash of his white teeth as he beamed…she felt the by-now-familiar conflict between the nagging voice of propriety (strangely similar to Kharra’s voice in her head) and the whisper of her heart, helplessly falling deeper and deeper in love with him.
Jimko made it to Donatello’s recently vacated empty spot, and Donatello collapsed on his knees, raising his fists to the heavens.
“Noooo!” he cried, flopping face-first into the dirt, as the children erupted into raucous fits of laughter.
Kharra made a “tsk” noise with her tongue as she watched and Jhanna huffed a laugh through her nose, hastily raising a hand to cover her smile. He was completely filthy. A Royal Consort was expected to give extra care and attention to their grooming - after all, they were meant to be fit for a queen, ready at a moment’s notice. And here he was rolling around in the dirt with the servant kids, touching everyone’s head.
Regaining her composure, she stepped out into the courtyard, and immediately all work ceased, as the servants dropped what they were doing in dismay and hastened to make their obeisance. Jhanna waved politely, and the children scrabbled guiltily to their feet, hastily brushing dust off their clothing with wide eyes, trying to look repentant.
Don looked up from the ground, and his smile grew even more radiant at the sight of her, and Jhanna’s heart almost broke from how adorably clueless he was.
“Oh, hi!” he beamed, “All done for the day?”
He seemed to sense something was amiss as he looked at the nervous posture of the children and their parents.
“What?” he asked her, his face falling slightly, “No good?”
“Did you have fun, children?” Jhanna smiled, addressing them with just a hint of chastisement in her tone.
“Yes, Honored One Jhanna,” they mumbled, bowing her heads in embarrassment.
“Then you must thank Donatello for the game.”
“Thank you, Chosen One Donatello,” they mumbled obediently.
“Sure,” Don replied, climbing nervously to his feet, and dusting his own clothing off, and Jhanna had to resist the urge to laugh at how similar his nervous posture was to the children’s, “Uh…no problem.”
“Go on, now,” Jhanna smiled firmly, “Back to your parents.”
The kids hastily obeyed, all but the very youngest, who seemed torn for a moment, then ran straight at Donatello, wrapping her arms around his leg in a tight hug.
“Thank you for playing with us,” she chirped, her voice as high and sweet as a little bird’s.
“Aww,” Don smiled, patting her hair, “You’re welcome, sweetheart!”
Jhanna winced as he touched her head, but maintained a stiff smile nonetheless. She really needed to talk to him about that.
The little girl gave another quick, guilty bow to Jhanna, and then ran off towards her mother. Jhanna took Don’s hand and started leading him back to the main building. He mirrored her stiff grin, and they both raised their hands to wave as they walked back towards the building.
“I fucked up?” he whispered quietly out of the corner of his mouth.
“Yes,” Jhanna replied serenely, smiling and nodding to her servants somewhat apologetically.
“Big or little this time?” he muttered, sadly.
“Mmm?…Medium-small,” she said, giving his hand a little squeeze, “Do not fret, love. I will explain later. Maybe over a bath?”
He sighed, and she almost purred, hearing the desire in his breath, knowing the idea sounded as delicious to him as it did to her.
“As my queen commands,” he murmured, giving her hand a little squeeze.
She turned to look at him, and this time she really did laugh out loud, taking in dirt all over his thin, gauzy clothing. He glanced down, and his face colored deliciously as he blushed back at her.
“Uh…yeah, I guess I should’ve - ”
“Hush,” Jhanna replied, stopping in her tracks, and leaning forward to stop his mouth with a kiss.
