An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
I don’t post nearly enough about my writing on this blog! I have a huge amount of writing going on on my Ao3! This link will take you to Sun and Moon, a story from the demigod’s lifetimes that happens almost twelve hundred years after the comic! I also have stuff written for Reinne and Flower Crown, as well as an au I don’t think I’ve mentioned here called Friends with a Benefit and an OSC! If you like my characters I definitely recommend checking it out!!
Just after Halle had died, Basille had made a request for more roses to be planted in the palace gardens. She’d been able to see the gardeners as they got to work fulfilling her request, and had gone down to see the bushes as soon as they were in the ground. They hadn’t been blooming when she’d gone, but she’d made plans to see them as soon as they were. Because of the king’s orders and her later injuries, however, this was the first time she was actually seeing them in all their beautiful glory.
She was finally healed enough that the king had granted his permission for her to leave her rooms, and the moment word had come, she’d gathered her skirts, excitedly looking to Malak in anticipation. He’d laughed and called for her maids, to her disappointment, but she knew he was right. It wouldn’t do to make the king think he was being shamed by her waltzing about the palace grounds in peasant’s clothes. She was still the queen, after all.
The moment she’d stepped foot outside, hair curled and properly dressed, she’d made a beeline for this corner, Malak having to trot to keep up with her.
The gardeners had gone above and beyond with the request, and the beautifully arranged buds nearly brought tears to her eyes. Halle would have loved them, she thought. The myriad of colors was all the memorial she ever could have hoped for.
Carefully, she stepped onto the wood that encircled the plants, lifting her skirts with one hand to prevent herself from tripping. With the other, she cupped a particular blossom, stroking the petals softly before all at once burying her nose in the center and taking a deep breath. Immediately, she sneezed, pulling back to avoid ruining the flower as she sneezed again, then again, all in quick succession.
Behind her, she heard a familiar laugh, and turned with a smile to see Reinne approaching. “I’ll thank you not to laugh at your queen.”
Reinne bowed deeply, the smile still plain on her face. “Yes, your majesty.”
“What brings you?” Malak asked, looking at his partner in confusion. To Basille’s knowledge, her guards weren’t meant to switch until after dinner, and by his expression, she assumed he was thinking the same.
“General Byron requires your presence,” she said as she straightened. “He’s a few men short on his patrol. I’ll take over your duties until tomorrow morning.”
Malak nodded sharply, then turned back to Basille, bowing just as Reinne had. “Excuse me, your highness. I am required elsewhere.”
She smiled fondly. He really was an earnest man, seeming much younger than he was at times. “Of course. I wish you safety.”
“Thank you, your highness.”
As he left, Reinne assumed his position, hands clasped behind her as she watched Basille turn back to the flowers. They stood in silence for a few moments, Basille smelling the blossoms at a safer distance this time, until Reinne suddenly spoke.
“Are these for Halle?”
“Yes,” Basille answered, smiling happily down at the latest bloom, a dark purple that reminded her of the shirt Reinne usually wore. Following the thought, she turned around, squinting at the shirt in question before holding out a hand. “Come, I want to compare these colors.”
Reinne furrowed her brow, but stepped forward, allowing Basille to take her by the arm and hold her sleeve against the richly-colored petals. The match was slightly off, the flowers a little bluer than the cloth, but it was still close enough to make her grin in satisfaction.
“You know, Halle’s sister was Banamoran,” she said suddenly, letting Reinne have her arm back. “They had different fathers, and Halle came here in the hopes of finding her sister’s father. He was a nobleman from their country.”
“Did she ever find him?”
“No, I don’t think so. As sad as it is, he had likely passed on before she took her station. Didn’t you say that your grandfather was from Banamore?” Reinne nodded, and Basille continued, happily tracing a finger over the petals of the rose. “Perhaps the two knew each other. They would have been of an age, I’m sure.”
“I doubt it,” Reinne said with a grin. “My grandfather was a foot soldier. He’d have had no reason to know a nobleman.”
“You’re a foot soldier,” Basille commented. “And I’m the queen. Yet, we have met.”
Reinne laughed, the sound clear and bright. It always brought a smile to Basille’s face, and she found herself suddenly entranced by the flash of the other’s smile. She took a step forward, suddenly, leaning in to smell the flower Basille held. Her softly curling hair brushed Basille’s wrist, and she shivered.
“I’m not a foot soldier,” Reinne said, voice still holding a smile as she pulled back. “I could have you brought up on charges of treason for disrespecting the king’s decrees.”
“Oh, could you? I’d like to see you try!”
“I think you’ll find it’s my duty, woman,” Reinne said, biting back further laughter and stepping back into her position of respect.
“Woman?!”
“Was I mistaken in my assumption?”
Basille snorted, shaking her head as she suddenly said, “You know, I think that if I had known you better while Halle still lived, the two of you would have been great friends.”
“She seems to have been quite the woman,” Reinne commented quietly, but when Basille looked up, she was smiling.
“The two of you have that in common.”
“Thank you, but--”
“No buts,” Basille said sternly, considering the flower for a few moments before beginning to pick off the first few thorns. “Do you have a knife?”
Reinne snorted, pulling a hunting blade from its sheath at her waist. “You know, in addition to being your friend, I am still a palace guard. Why do you need a knife?”
“In addition to being the queen, I’m holding a flower that I’ve just de-thorned, Reinne.” Basille couldn’t stop her smile growing as she looked back at the other. The combination of the sunshine, the company, and the flowers were putting her into a better mood than she’d had in months. Despite still being behind the castle walls, she felt free. “Take your best guess.”
Unable to hide the laughter in her eyes, Reinne stepped forward, taking hold of the flower and slicing it neatly just below her hand. Basille, still smiling, dropped her grip to overlap Reinne’s, entangling their fingers around the stem as she said, “For you.”
Something unrecognizable flashed through Reinne’s face, her smile softening for a split second before her whole body stiffened. Confused, Basille let go of her hand, allowing the other to take the flower. Reinne couldn’t seem to look up from the petals, and Basille watched a war fight across her expression.
“Thank you, your highness.”
Basille wasn’t sure what to say for a moment. She was unsure what had just happened, but knew she didn’t like the other pulling back, using her title when they were clearly alone and refusing to look her in the eye. “Please, Reinne, call me Basille. As far as I am concerned, we are equals.”
Reinne took a deep breath, finally looking up from the rose but still not quite making eye contact. “Basille.”
She wasn’t sure what to say for a long moment, but finally settled on, “What’s wrong?”
“Ah,” Reinne said, glancing into her eyes for a split second. “It’s been a long day, is all. I’m quite tired.”
“If that’s all it is, we could go inside. You can sleep in my room.”
She was surprised to see a deep blush appear on Reinne’s face, but the other spoke quickly, her laughing tone at odds with her wringing fingers. “I’m sure if an assassin breaks in, I would be alerted to his presence by the sound of your dying screams.”
“I will choose to be assassinated silently, then, if it will allow you to rest.” A flicker of a smile flashed across Reinne’s face, and Basille shook her head. “Please, Reinne. What ails you?”
This was unlike her, and Basille knew she didn’t like it. Reinne was nothing if not straightforward, and the very fact that she didn’t seem to have the words at her ready was worrisome in and of itself.
Reinne swallowed, again staring at the flower. When she spoke, her voice was breaking. “Your highness, I find myself at quite a loss.”
“Yes?” Basille prodded, watching her carefully. She still didn’t like being called an honorific, but she let it slide, not wanting to discourage Reinne from her thoughts.
“I am… W-when I had just come of age, there was a boy in the city, the son of a friend of my father’s. He was kind to me, and Karlen let me make my own choices, so I allowed him to court me.”
Not having the slightest clue where this could be leading, Basille just watched her.
“There was nothing wrong with him, you see, but I just… he was not…” Reinne seemed frustrated, reaching up to push the fingers of one hand through her own hair as the other arm wrapped itself around her chest, rose still held tightly in her grip. “I-I…”
“Reinne, it’s okay,” she said, stepping forward. Almost of their own volition, her hands jumped to cup the other’s face, and she smoothed her thumbs over her skin. “Whatever it is, it’s okay.”
There was a long moment where they just looked at each other, Reinne’s brown eyes filling with terrified tears. “Basille, I… I have grown too close to you.”
Despite the pain in her chest, Basille asked, “Did Tyrrel hurt you?”
“No! No, that’s not…” Reinne took a deep breath, looked up to the sky in an attempt to get her tears to fade. “The king has not touched me.”
Basille just watched her, slowly letting go of her face and reaching instead to lay her fingers on the other’s arm. “Whatever it is, you don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to. I wish you nothing but happiness, Reinne, and so long as you have that…?”
“I prefer the company of women, your highness.” The words seemed to burst from Reinne’s lips, shame coloring her face as Basille’s eyes widened in surprise. “And I seem to have fallen in love with my queen.”
The words lit up something inside of Basille’s mind, puzzle pieces fitting together to make a picture that, in retrospect, was embarrassingly obvious. It was… gods, it made so much sense. She’d never even considered it. It was incredibly uncommon in Saibhadha, a crime worthy of execution. She supposed she could be excused for not realizing--
“I know that what I am is against the law,” Reinne was saying, words flying from her mouth more quickly than Basille had ever seen her speak. “But I needed to tell you, before I left. I am putting you in danger, Basille, even by standing at your side. I have kept this secret for so long, but I have never had reason for it to be--”
“You’re leaving?” was all she could think to say, mind still rushing.
“Y-yes. Yes, I-I… I am going to go to the king tomorrow, ask him to transfer me to the company of the Banamoran ambassadors. But I did not want to just abandon you without reason, so I--”
“Oh, you…” The words to describe the other’s stupidity didn’t immediately spring to mind, and she glanced over her shoulder. There was a gardener, far out of earshot but not out of sight, and Basille let her hand drop from Reinne’s arm. Then she turned, gesturing quickly and beginning to walk towards the palace.
After a moment of hesitation, Reinne followed, accompanying her through the halls, passing servants and guards until they arrived at her rooms. Basille’s heart was pounding, and as they entered, she jumped at the sight of the maids, arranging her sheets and chatting quietly as they worked. At the sight of her, they all stopped, and, more severely than she’d intended, she barked, “I require the room!”
They exchanged glances, then quickly filed past her, the last of them scampering through and Basille catching Reinne’s arm as she started to follow. “You stay.”
Reinne’s face was growing pale, but she nodded, and Basille gathered her wits about her as the other closed the door behind them and set her rose on the dresser. For a long moment, Basille was frozen, and Reinne just watched her.
“Your highness, I know that I am a traitor to the gods,” she finally said, voice coming out a broken whisper. “But I do not wish to hear that from you.”
“Oh, Reinne…” Basille murmured. “I could not fault you for it if I tried.”
The other’s brow furrowed in confusion, and Basille held out a shaking hand. “When I came of age, I did court men. I have never found fault in their gender alone, but as you spoke, I… Reinne . I am so sorry.” She was understanding her previous hesitation, now, a lifetime of following unfeeling gods stopping the words before they could leave her mouth. “Please don’t leave on my account.”
Reinne’s head inclined, and she said, “Basille, I appreciate this. I thank you for your kindness, but I don’t think you understand. I have to.”
“I think that I understand better than you know,” Basille said, finally summoning her courage and stepping forward, taking Reinne’s hand in her own and lifting it to her lips. She felt the other’s fingers light on her shoulder as she pressed a kiss to her other palm, and Reinne’s breathing grew uneven.
When Basille looked up, the other was staring at her in disbelief. How could Basille explain? That her words had put meaning to the feelings that had been growing inside her for so long? That even from the first moment Basille had seen her, there had been a sense of admiration she had never before experienced. That she…
“Reinne, in the event that you choose to stay,” Basille murmured, “I should hope that you believe me when I say it would bring me great happiness. I would never think to betray you.”
Letting out a short laugh, Reinne shook her head, wide eyes staring into Basille’s own. “I want to protect you.”
“I don’t think even your leaving would do that,” Basille said dryly. “You put me in no more danger by staying than I would be in without you. Can I ask you, instead, to stay by my side?”
“Basille…”
“It’s a request, not a command,” she said quickly. “As much as I… your life will be in danger. It’s selfish of me to even ask, but… Reinne, I think that I may be in love with you.”
Reinne blinked, long and hard, brows raising, then laughed again, disbelievingly. “What?”
“I love you,” Basille repeated, and she knew that she meant it. “I knew that I felt strongly towards you, but I hadn’t had the words to describe it until you said it. You love your queen? Your queen finds herself returning those feelings.”
They just looked at each other for a long moment, Basille’s heart pounding in fear until she saw the smile growing over Reinne’s face. “Are you sure?”
“Absolutely.”
Pulling her hand from Basille’s grip, Reinne cupped her cheeks with shaking fingers. “And you want me to stay?”
“You make me happy, Reinne,” Basille answered. “Of course I do.”
“This could end very badly.”
“It won’t end well,” Basille said. “No matter what happens, there aren’t many happy endings, and if you do choose to go, you take my heart with you. I won’t fault you, and you are always welcome here when you return to Saibhadha.”
Wildly, Reinne shook her head, starting to laugh as she leaned forward. She hesitated, then drew her into a tight hug. “I thought I had already made my decision, but damn it, Basille!” Reinne pulled back, reaching up and holding her face, laughter creasing her eyes. “How could I go? You really want this?”
“Yes,” Basille said, starting to laugh herself. “How many times must I repeat it?”
“At least as many as it takes to convince me this isn’t a dream.” Reinne leaned closer, searching her face carefully. Her smile didn’t seem to want to fade, and she slowly shook her head. “I would die for you in an instant, Basille. I always would have. And this would… it would bring me great joy, even if it does end badly. Of course I’ll stay.”
Smiling, Basille leaned into one of her hands, looking up at her and wishing that Reinne didn’t have to make such promises. “Reinne?”
“Yes?”
“Would you do me the honor of a kiss?”
Reinne’s eyes grew soft, and she nodded, moving forward to close the distance between them. Their lips met, a gentle press that burned through her like fire. Basille’s grip went to Reinne’s hips, and she felt one of the other’s hands slip down her jaw to rest at the curve between her neck and shoulder.
Breaking apart, Basille felt her face flushing red, and Reinne seemed equally affected, only looking at her for a moment before she buried her face into Basille’s hair.
“I love you,” she said, and Basille couldn’t help her smile.
Reinne leaned back against the wall, the rickety bed frame creaking below her as she moved. Outside the window, she could see a new contingent of guards practicing, and watched them with a faint smile on her face. There were several of them that she recognized from her home in the city, boys much younger than her, who’s advancement into the ranks of the guard had given her a shocking reminder of the passage of time.
They were a mess, as they were expected to be, but most of them looked as though they would learn. Given enough time, nearly anyone could, she thought. Karlen had certainly always believed that.
It was evident enough in his decision to pick up a street rat and turn her into a warrior.
She started as the door opened, Malak stepping in and squinting at her. “Why are you awake?”
“I already slept,” she answered, looking at him questioningly. “How long have you been with the queen?”
“Since the sun set last night,” he said, and she shook her head.
“You could have summoned me.”
“Ah, about the time I would have, the king visited. He asked me to stay through the visit, and he and the queen took a turn in the garden.”
Reinne looked at him, surprised. “Only a walk in the garden? Isn’t that unusual?”
“Why, because the king keeps her at arms length? Yes, except that we currently have Banamoran visitors in the north wing. They arrived last night.”
That explained the higher activity of guards in the courtyards, and the polished armor on the new men. “I’m surprised I wasn’t summoned.”
“You will be. They're meeting with the dignitaries in a few hours, and I’m going to need to sleep anyway, so you might as well head up to the queen’s quarters now. Did you know that one of the Banamoran women has a wife?”
Forcing her expression into one of neutral indifference, Reinne asked, “Oh?”
“Yeah! A woman, not only a representative of their royalty but with a wife of her own! I had heard stories that that sort of thing was accepted in Banamore, but I hadn’t believed it! Imagine a priest being willing--”
“I hear they worship different gods,” Reinne interjected, swinging her legs off the bed and setting them flat on the floor. “Goddesses, who encourage living freely and who rule over their nature instead of their people.
“Our king may be a cruel man, but at least our gods are sane!” Malak laughed. “I thought the king was going to pass to the heavens themselves the moment he heard of it, but he managed to keep his head, luckily for the queen.”
“Do you…” She hesitated, the question on the edge of her tongue, one that she knew she shouldn’t ask. Still though, she wanted to know the answer. “Does it bother you?”
“Does what bother me? The Banamorans?” He leaned down, looking into the round mirror set into the wall and picking at something in his teeth. Honestly, he was like an animal. Sharing a room with him was an adventure that never came to an end, but it was better than sleeping on the floor, like many soldiers did.
“No, I think you’ve made your feelings on that clear,” she forced a laugh. “I meant the king. Does… does it bother you, what he does to the queen?”
Malak froze, and Reinne watched as his knuckles turned white where he was gripping the edge of the wardrobe. He straightened suddenly, sadness in his eyes despite refusing to look at Reinne. “I’ve known Queen Basille longer than she’s been the queen. She grew up a lady on the other side of Saibhadha, and my father was their head guardsman. I was a close friend to her brother, and considered a courtship with her sister before I was offered this appointment. There was a time she might have been one of my own sisters.” He looked up, the sadness in his eyes all the more apparent as they met Reinne’s. “You can’t let it get to you. There’s nothing we can do to stop the king. All we can do is serve the queen as she asks, and keep her safe from the dangers from outside.”
“It seems useless to protect her from danger that has no evidence of existing when there is danger right now, next to her in the palace.” She could feel herself growing bolder, knowing what she now knew about his history. “I wonder, at times, if the king only has us here to prove to Basille that she is truly powerless.”
He flinched as Reinne used Basille’s first name, and she cursed herself for the slip, opening her mouth to come up with an explanation before he asked, “You remember Halle, right?”
“Yes, of course,” she said, not liking where she knew this tangent was going.
“Do you know why she died?”
“So that the king could hurt Basille,” she murmured, sure in her answer and thus surprised when Malak shook his head.
“Halle went to the visiting Banamorans, and was going to ask them to take the queen with them as they left. I heard the king gloating of how she never even reached their wing of the palace. If you would like to join her at the bottom of the walls, then by all means. Protect the queen from the danger here. Or do what is smart, and find another way to help. Now get off the bed, I need to sleep.”
Nodding, Reinne stood, letting him crawl below the thin blanket, then abruptly huffing and pulling it away so she could tug off his shoes and throw them into a corner. “I told you not to wear those on the sheets.”
“If you’re going to be a woman, do it in another room, Reinne. I’m too tired for this.”
Rolling her eyes, she grabbed her shoes and sword and left the room, shutting the door perhaps a bit louder than was necessary.
As she made her way towards the queen’s rooms, she found herself lost in thought. The part of her that understood their position knew that Malak was right. The king had so much power, too many guards and too high of an ego. Nothing Reinne could do would make any real difference, unless she wanted to be killed.
She nodded to the queen’s door guards as she passed, knocking quickly before letting herself into the quiet room.
Basille turned, smiling when she saw who her newcomer was, and Reinne sighed inwardly. The sunlight streaming through the window lit up her white-gold hair in a shining blaze, glinting off of her eyelashes and making the blue of her eyes clear and bright. Reinne couldn’t pull her gaze from the queen’s smile, or her thoughts from the way the room smelled of her, of the flowers she adored and the perfumed oils that filled her baths.
Yes, the part of her that was a guard knew there was nothing to be done.
“Reinne! I’m so glad to see you, won’t you come and sit with me?”
There was another part of her, though, that didn’t think twice before nodding, smiling as she crossed the room to look down at what the queen was working on. That part of her already grieved for the pain of trying to do something anyway.
She truly was lost, wasn’t she?
~~~
When Reinne had gone through her things, she’d found a pendant tucked into one of her bags, something she’d stuffed in on second thought when she’d left Karlen’s house. It was the only thing left of her mother, but her mother was a mystery, not so much worth holding on to keepsakes as she was to leave Reinne wondering what of her was in her own face. The memories were scattered, but the ones that stuck with her were the reason she’d kept the pendant for so long.
The pendant held the symbol of Banamore’s goddess of the sky, Cerulean. Her worship was outlawed in this country, and it was really no surprise when you considered how freely their goddesses let their people live.
Reinne had taken to wearing it around her neck in the last few weeks, tucked down the front of her shirt where no one could see that she was betraying Saibhadha’s gods. Karlen had raised her to worship them, but she had never really felt their presence. Cerulean, though, Reinne could remember her mother praying to, feeling electricity light her fingertips as her mother spoke. Reinne had been hurt, once, broken her arm and her mother hadn’t had the money to bring her to a medicine woman. Her mother had turned to her father’s gods, and she had claimed they had healed Reinne.
She wasn’t sure she believed that, but the idea of these goddesses brought with them a strange sort of comfort. They were women. Perhaps they could understand.
It was becoming more common for Basille to ask her to stay as she slept. Usually, that just meant pulling the guard’s chair close, maybe holding her hand like she had that first time. A few times, though, Basille had followed through on her question, asking Reinne to be right beside her. Reinne would always do so, laying on top of the blankets and letting Basille decide how much space was left between them. It always made Reinne’s heart pound, a strange mix of guilt and happiness choking off her breath until Basille’s head rested on her chest. Nothing untoward ever came of it, of course not, but Reinne still felt like she shouldn’t be doing it.
The only reason she still did was because it helped Basille. There was no denying that she slept more peacefully with someone beside her. Whether she felt safer or was just pretending she was Halle, Reinne had no idea, but she always had to reassure herself of her own motivations.
She was helping. She was giving comfort, a purely platonic method of soothing someone she knew needed the companionship. Someone that, despite the breach of decorum, Reinne considered to be her friend.
Reinne was falling in love with the queen.
It was stupid, so unbelievably thoughtless and selfish on top of the fact that it could get her killed, but there was no denying it. The sight of Basille filled her with warmth, and the curve of her smile appeared too often in her dreams. Every time she saw the other, she wanted to pull her into her arms, bury her face into her neck and let her draw comfort just from the hold.
Her soul ached just to think of her, of the pain she couldn’t take away and the fact that… well, it was an impossible wish.
She’d tried to change her thoughts, though admittedly not very hard. It wasn’t a bad feeling, and not one she wanted to get rid of, but to be in love with the queen?
God, it was just so stupid.
But the brush of blonde hair on her chin, soft fingers curled lightly into her sleeve, breath running over Reinne’s skin, with the smell of flowers and the sensation of warm affection that filled her heart? It was something like a drug. Reinne was afraid she’d never be able to give it up. She didn’t know if she could hold it back.
Never in a million years could she imagine hurting Basille, but if she found out? If the king did? It could put them both in danger, no matter that Basille didn’t return the affections. The king would take any excuse to press his advantage over her, and even if by some miracle, he left Basille alone, Reinne would undoubtedly die.
It felt like the obvious solution, to leave. She’d thought long and hard about it, coming to the conclusion that if she asked, the king would likely be happy to move her to his ambassadors’ company of soldiers. That would put her before the eye of their royalty, help him to further whatever agenda had caused him to hire her in the first place.
It would seem like abandonment. She couldn’t explain to Basille why she was leaving, so it would seem as though she no longer wished for their friendship. Reinne had no desire to hurt her. She didn’t want to deprive a hurting woman of another of her friends, no matter that Reinne didn’t think she could ever forget her love for her.
Wasn’t that what love was, though? Doing everything you could to help the other person? Keeping them safe, and doing the best for them? Even if Basille hated her at the end of it, this is what would keep her safe.
It just ached.
Reinne leaned over the rail of the bridge upon which she stood. She could see the sun flashing over the water, the cool air soothing her mind and making it easier to think. It’d been a long time since she had come here, since long before Karlen’s death, but it had been her place. The place she’d come any time his wife was overly cruel to her, or when the guilt of loving women threatened to overwhelm her. It was her safe place, a tucked-away pocket of just herself.
Today, she’d come here to pray, clutching her pendant tightly in her hand and squeezing her eyes shut as she asked what to do. There’d been no answer. Of course there hadn’t, but she couldn’t help but be disappointed. There was no easy solution, no ready-made decision for her to just follow and lay the blame at someone else’s feet.
There was no way she could just leave. That was such absolute bullshit, and she knew it. Running away under the guise of keeping Basille safe did no good if it put the other in more pain. She knew it would, that her leaving with no explanation would do nothing but hurt the woman she was falling in love with too fast to stop.
Reinne took a deep breath.
If she really thought about it, she knew that Basille would never report her. Basille may not approve, she would not return the feeling, but she deserved an explanation, and Reinne didn’t think she could report anyone to the king, especially for an infraction based so deeply in love. That was it, she thought.
Basille would be safer for her leaving. But Reinne would tell her, before she went. She deserved an explanation.
And Reinne would, for the first time, be protecting the queen.
This is one of those really rough chapters, and I’m not going to copy it onto my Tumblr. However, here is the Ao3 link, and there are TW tags there! I’ve included the TLDR below the cut here so that you can follow the story if you’d prefer to stay on Tumblr.
TLDR (chapter spoilers): Basille has just been beaten by the king, and after Reinne helps to treat her, Basille reveals to her that the king has been forcing miscarriages for any child that isn't a boy. She tried to fight back and that's why he hurt her. She asks Reinne to sit with her until she falls asleep, and right before she does so, she hears Reinne praying to unfamiliar goddesses for her protection.
Blue had been a child, when the magic showed itself in her. She’d been playing, just kids on a field of grass, chasing each other in circles. She hadn’t quite been fast enough, couldn’t quite catch the others, and she'd fallen, hard, burst into tears at the pain in her knees. Her father had run to her side, kissed her scrapes and smoothed her hair, and she remembered being confused by the tears in his eyes.
“Why are you sad?” she’d asked.
“You’re blessed,” he’d replied. “Blessed by the gods.”
She'd realized, suddenly, that her knees no longer hurt. When she'd looked down, the scrapes and cuts had entirely disappeared.
Those with magic were those that ruled the kingdoms. The kings, the queens, the generals and ladies. The gods chose who was right, and sent them where they were meant to go, and where they were meant to go was almost never with the families they had been born to.
Blue had always been meant to be a queen. Her powers weren’t for fighting, not for diplomacy or finances. She had always been a comforter.
She could make light, dancing along her fingers. There was the soft warmth she could summon, and she could alter hers and other's appearances. Most of all, though, she was a healer.
That had been the power of most use to a queen in her position.
The servants used to come to her with their sick children, beg her to heal them. Often, she couldn’t fix them entirely, but she could soothe their aches and pains, make them a little less scared. She would usually just heal herself, smooth down scars and take away the stinging pain of the king’s brands. There wasn’t often he’d let her get rid of them all, but she would do what she could. Sometimes, trapped beneath his hands, she would try desperately to heal him of whatever horrible spirit had invaded his soul to make him the way he was.
She hadn’t been able to save her only friend, something that haunted her to this day. Her handmaiden, a woman named Charity whose soul echoed the name. She’d been the one that had gotten Blue out, a woman brave enough to steal a queen, strong enough to not even cry out as an arrow pierced her back.
Blue had reached for her, magic already sparking in her fingertips but knowing, just already… there was nothing she could have done. She’d known that. Charity had known that.
So she had sat back a little further, let the arrow pierce her heart and left Blue with nothing to do but run. It was still hard to believe that she’d made it. Stealing a boat, crossing the river, stumbling up onto dry land and falling to her knees. She’d barely known what to do, and all she could think of was that she couldn’t be recognized.
Her eyes had found a flower, half-buried under the grass, whose petals were the color of the ocean, and everything went Blue.
Days of walking, not having anything to eat, and knowing there was no one to help her for at least another week. Ljosvollr was famously empty, all the people gathered at the center of the land, and she was so close to the edge.
She had been pretty sure she was going to die. She’d even been okay with that, accepted it right up until the sound of hoofbeats and--
“Are you okay?”
Jumping, Blue looked back to see Razz standing behind her. There was concern in his eyes, and he took her hand softly. She nodded, laughing dryly and gesturing at a hollowed-out stump by the side of the road, much more decrepit than she remembered it being so many years ago.
“I think I slept there, one of the nights that I--” She cut herself off, shaking her head and turning back to face him. “I thought you were all so imposing, up there on your horses. Now I know that all soldiers are fools.”
“Including you?” he asked, the humor in his eyes not doing much to hide the pity that he knew she hated.
“Especially me.” she said with passion, forcing a laugh. Then she turned, gesturing to where her men were setting up for the night. “They haven’t been fed yet, and here I am, staring at a tree.”
He didn’t say anything for a moment, and she gave him a look, knowing he had better things to be doing with his time than caring for her.
“Will you ever…” he stopped, shook himself and smiled. “Will you join me tonight?”
The question he’d stopped was one he’d asked before. He already knew the answer, but she murmured it anyway. “My past is my own. I don’t want to remember it, and I don’t want you to see me differently. But yes.” Blue shot him a grin. “I will join you tonight.”
Razz laughed, leaning forward to kiss her cheek, then turning as someone called for him from across the field. She assumed he had left, jumped again as he cupped her face. He opened his mouth, then hesitated.
“You’ll be in my thoughts, then,” he finally said, and she laughed, leaning down to pick one of the blue flowers that dotted the entire landscape of this beautiful country. She tucked it behind his ear, grinning widely at the picture he made.
“Token of my favor. Until tonight.”
~~~
Blue ducked through the flap of Razz’s tent, setting down her bags in the corner his didn’t fill. He wasn’t here yet, but the women posted at his door (a pair from Halle’s command, she thought) hadn’t blinked an eye as she stepped past. Word must have traveled quickly of their marriage the past few days, many of the soldiers under her charge clasping her hands as she walked by to murmur a congratulations. This was the first night she had stayed the night with him, though, her duties keeping her up late enough she had just crashed on the ground with her soldiers.
Grinning to herself as she sat on the pile of furs and feathers that made up his bed, she started to unlace her boots. Being a first lieutenant wasn’t without its perks, the semi-privacy and protection from the elements that a shared tent provided being invaluable after being a foot soldier for so long. But Razz was a captain. He was afforded privileges she had only been able to dream of, not the least of which was the tradition of many soldiers carrying an extra blanket for their captain.
The people of Ljosvollr called it good luck, but up until this moment, she’d always thought it was foolish.
She placed her shoes next to her bags, then reached inside for her bow, polishing the smooth wood and checking the draw of the string. Relaxing, she unstrung the weapon, laying it carefully over the bags and starting to unclasp her armor before the flap lifted again.
Razz smiled tiredly as he saw her, letting the tent fall closed behind him as he leaned in for a kiss. Quickly, she returned it, watching him with soft happiness as he sat beside her and began to unbutton his shirt. When he had it loosened, he tugged it over his head, leaning forward and tucking it carefully into his bags, glancing over his shoulder at her explosion of breath.
“What?”
Without a word, she came up onto her knees, smoothing her hands over his spine and following the lines of his back. He sighed as she pressed softly with her thumbs, soothing the knots that had formed in his shoulders. “We’re almost there,” she murmured, pressing a kiss just below his ear.
“One more day of travel,” he sighed. “Then two weeks of patrols.”
“The patrols are always easier, my love. At least, easier to command.” She kissed him again, guided him back to sit beside her in the nest of blankets.
“Not for you,” he remarked dryly, turning against her hands and twining their fingers together. “You must be tired, all the riding back and forth you had to do today.”
“Abel will be the death of me,” she laughed, naming the second that gave her the most trouble.
“He is a good man,” Razz said.
“A very good man.” Blue kissed him, then pulled away, finishing removing her armor and laying it in front of her as she reached into her bags for the oil she always rubbed into the leather. A soldier should know to care first for their horse, then for their weapon and armor, and only then for themselves. Razz’s rank afforded him armor of chainmail, and she knew from her years serving in his company that it was hung from a pole of his tent. It had to be cared for much less frequently than the leather, but she never would have sacrificed the freedom of movement. Razz thought she was crazy, but Razz didn’t know that there were few injuries she couldn’t heal on her own body.
Beginning her routine, she could feel his eyes on her. “You’ve come a long way, haven’t you?” he remarked, and she laughed, turning the brace in her hands to get the back.
“A long way from battered and weak-willed?”
“You’ve certainly never been either,” he said, and she felt his fingers working softly under the hem at her back, tracing the skin under her shirt. “I meant as a soldier. I remember the day you told me you wanted to learn.”
“You laughed at me,” she said dryly, looking back as he hugged her from behind.
“Can you blame me?”
She thought back, remembered the shivering woman who had stood in front of him in the training yard. A cleaning maid, far fallen from anything she’d been but with so much more hope. He’d been the one to employ her, a lieutenant at the time, having her clean up after his soldiers until the moment she’d gotten brave enough to ask if she might become one of them. “No. But I’ve worked hard.”
Drawing her into his bare chest, he held her tightly. “You have. You always do.”
“I thought you were soft,” she commented, concentrating on her armor. “That you let your soldiers walk all over you.”
“I am soft,” he hummed, and he felt his grin against her skin as he kissed a place on her neck that she knew was sweaty and disgusting from the day’s riding. “That doesn’t mean I’m weak.”
“I know the respect you have, now.” She laughed as he kissed the same place again, looking over her shoulder at him. “You don’t have to kiss me, love, I know that I need a bath.”
“If a little dirt could dissuade me from any part of you, we should never have married,” he murmured, already kissing another piece of her skin. She sighed, feeling him lay back and lift her shirt to mark a trail with his lips. Going back to work on her armor, she was soothed by their comfortable rhythm. Eventually, he ceased the kisses, letting go of her shirt and burying his face against her waist. Just as she set aside the last piece, one of the door guards smacked the flap of the tent.
“Messenger for you, Captain.”
“Come in,” Razz said with a groan, sitting up as the tent’s flap was pushed aside.
“Three of the lieutenants report their men settled, sir, but I cannot find--” the man seemed to notice Blue for the first time, and he blinked. “Lieutenant.”
“My men are settled, as well,” Blue said, and Razz laughed under his breath.
“Thank you, Jacob. Is there any more news?”
The man flushed brightly at Blue’s smile and glanced between them. “No, Captain. Are you…”
“Can you please relay to the lieutenant’s men that if they wish to contact her, to direct themselves to…” he looked at her, and she spoke directly to the man.
“Still to me. Tell them to send a messenger if they cannot come themselves.” The man nodded, excusing himself from the tent, and Razz gave her a questioning glance.
“I had hoped we could spend the night without interruptions.”
“My soldiers know where I am,” she said with a soft smile. “And my Seconds are more than capable. If an issue arises they need my assistance with, it will be something only I can do. This company needs to keep turning, no matter my time spent with you.”
He huffed, but nodded, returning to his task and placing kisses to her hip. Smiling, Blue turned to him, drawing him up for a real kiss and running her hands over his bare skin. “There is still no privacy, Razz.”
“And yet my self-control wanes with each day away from you,” he breathed, then laughed. “I’m not a fool. I just wish very much to hold you. Perhaps receive a kiss or two, if you’re willing.”
She smiled, thumbed carefully at his cheek. “I love you.”
“I love you too.” Grinning, he wrapped his arms around her, stole a kiss, then another. “Will you lay with me?”
“I will. Let me finish getting ready for bed.”
Razz nodded, kicking off his shoes and crawling into the nest. Blue smiled after him, fixated just for a moment. He was a beautiful man, well-muscled and with hair in the sort of waves bards wrote ballads about, wonderful to look at and even better to speak with. There was so much kindness in him, impossibly much with a world so cruel. He smiled as she watched him, and she found herself entranced. “Blue, as much as I enjoy admiring you from afar, I’d much rather find you beside me.”
She smiled at the not-so-subtle push to hurry up, leaned over to kiss him deeply. “Falling asleep in your arms? What else could a woman dream of?"
Basille relaxed back into the sheets of her bed, rubbing one hand back and forth over her stomach. She was small in frame, always had been, and through all of her pregnancies, she’d been able to feel the roundness of her stomach a few weeks sooner than Damien said she should.
They’d established, over and over, that it was no damage to either her or the child, though, so she was largely left alone about it.
As she’d thought, the king hadn’t let her escape examinations for long. Damien had taken a look at her earlier that day, his procedures for checking her health somehow even more invasive than the one he used to check for pregnancy in the first place. He’d confirmed that both she and the child were okay, and that as long as she stayed in her rooms, she should be fine. She’d been further along than even she thought, and her heartbreak had only increased with the proclamation that Damien would be able to determine the sex of her child within the next few days.
Tyrrel had asked to be present, as he always did, and she pushed back the fear that threatened to overwhelm her. She wasn’t much of a religious person, the gods having failed in their protections one too many times to be able to earn her respect, but she was praying now.
Please. Please be a boy.
Slowly, she opened her eyes, hand pausing in its path as she stared at the underside of her bedframe. It was a smooth wood, and her eyes searched out the patterns she knew by heart, eyes locking to the faint outline of a crescent moon before she sighed.
There was no point in dreading it, she supposed. It was going to happen, one way or another, and there was nothing she could do to stop it.
Sitting up, she glanced over at Malak. He was working on his puzzle ring, as usual, a pair of interlocking pieces of metal he’d gotten at a town’s fair. You were supposed to be able to arrange them in a fashion that they were easily separated, but he’d been working on it for at least two years and she’d never once seen him succeed. The man was nothing if not determined.
“Can I try?” she asked, and Malak jumped, not seeming to have noticed her sitting up.
“Of course, your highness,” he said, standing and crossing the room to hand over the rings. She struggled with them for a moment, twisting and turning them one way and another before she sighed. Giving up, she handed them back, then patted the mattress beside her.
“There’s not much to do when I’m stuck in my room,” she explained. “I should like to watch you work on the puzzle, if I could.”
Slowly, he nodded, taking his seat beside her and going back to what he had been doing. She watched his fingers with interest, trying to puzzle out the shapes at the same time as him.
Malak had never been a friend, but he had been a constant part of her life for almost as long as she could remember. He’d been close to some of her siblings when they were younger, and though none would admit it, she thought her father might have asked him to follow her to the palace when she was married. For someone she’d known for so long, he was too stuck on decorum. Basille had always been lacking in friends, but she certainly didn’t blame him for that. Still, though, she had always wished they could be closer.
He reminded her a great deal of her oldest brother. It’d been years since she’d seen him, but he’d have to be… oh, twenty-five? Twenty-six? He’d been married when Basille was still quite young, and moved to the far coast. She was closer in distance to him now, but she’d never really thought to try and reach out to him. Basille wanted her family to remember her as the wild-minded child they’d once known, instead of the broken woman she now was.
Malak made a small noise of frustration, then tucked the rings into his pocket. Glancing up at her windows, he suddenly asked, “Your highness, would you like me to open those? Get you some fresh air?”
“I would love that,” she said with feeling. The queen’s rooms weren’t exactly lacking in amenities, but any time she was placed on constant supervision, she could feel herself waning.
Standing slowly, she followed Malak to the windows, propping her elbows on the sill and peering out over the gardens. She could see the flowers beginning to bloom, and allowed herself a small smile at the sight.
“Do you like flowers, Malak?”
He paused in his motions, window half-open and not yet propped. “I suppose. Not to the same degree as you, though.”
Nodding, Basille took a deep breath, trying to catch a whiff of the blooms below and finding herself disappointed to find none. “Could you ask one of the door guards to fetch a maid? I would like to have roses brought.”
“Yes, my lady.”
“Thank you,” she said, and he paused. For a long moment, she thought he might say something, but as she looked back to meet his eyes, his gaze dropped to the floor.
“I will collect them myself, actually. It’s time for me to fetch Reinne anyway.”
Slowly, Basille inclined her head. “Okay. Thank you.”
These were the few precious moments of privacy she ever got these days, the time when one of her guards would fetch the other. Often, she would use those moments to relieve herself or change a chafing piece of clothing. Today, though, she was content.
Basille leaned against the window’s edge, closing her eyes and breathing in fresh air.
~~~
When Damien came for her, it was again Reinne that was acting as her guard. The blooms Malak had fetched a few days before were beginning to wilt, and she was just starting to think that she should ask for replacements when her door inched open, the weasel-faced man himself peeking through.
Basille had been busying herself with her reading, but she slowly put down her book as she saw the other.
“Is the king waiting?” she asked, and he nodded.
“Do you require my assistance to--”
“No. I will meet you at your quarters,” she said shortly, dismissing him with a wave and pulling herself to her feet. Reinne started to stand, but she waved her off. “You don’t need to accompany me. Please, rest.”
Reinne hesitated, then tightened her grip on her sword. “I think I will accompany you anyway, Basille. If you don’t want me inside the examination, I will still walk you to the door.”
Giving her a look, Basille decided not to push it further. Her heart was pounding, the calm facade she was desperately holding in place as risk of giving in at any moment. “Fine,” she said. “I… I appreciate the protection.”
The same unfunny joke of Reinne’s protection made them grimace in unison.
Basille needlessly smoothed her skirts, then beckoned to Reinne, making her way out the door and past her guards with the other following silently behind her. Their footsteps made echoes down empty halls, and Basille glanced up to the ceiling. It was pristine, she noticed, and briefly wondered how the servants got high enough to clean it.
Reinne held open the door to the east wing, and Basille nodded her thanks, suddenly unable to speak as Damien’s examination room came into view. Each step felt like it covered a mile, and yet she felt as though she wasn’t moving forward at all. Her breathing stuttered, and she fought back panic as she--
“Your highness.”
Snapping out of the fear, Basille suddenly realized that Reinne had taken her hand. The other squeezed it softly, then, in a seeming moment of wild bravery, lifted her fingers, pressing a soft kiss to Basille’s skin before she dropped the hand entirely.
Basille’s heart skipped a beat.
“I’ll be right outside,” Reinne said quietly, and Basille nodded in thanks.
She stepped up to the door, pushing it open and wondering why the place Reinne’s lips had just been felt so much like it was afire.
